‘No more you had,’ interrupted Mr Franklin; ‘that’s very true; so there’s little harm done. Though I don’t say but what I’ll do something for you too. That has happened to me which makes a man think of things he usen’t to mind. Maybe I’ve no right to disappoint you altogether, after what I led you to expect. I might have employed another lawyer to make this will; but I thought you were entitled to have what business was to be got out of the thing. And you shan’t say I was unhandsome. Put yourself down for a thousand pounds.’
Mr Blackford expressed his gratitude as well as he could, which was not very well; but it was a great deal more than he felt under the circumstances.
‘You have named no trustees,’ said he, recovering himself a little; ‘it will be necessary to do so. I myself should be very happy’——
‘No,’ said the old man; ‘I don’t care for lawyers as trustees; they never seem to run straight. Let me see—put down William Brown, of the Stock Exchange, and James Harberton, of Leadenhall Street, merchant. Give them each a hundred pounds for their services. They won’t refuse to act when they find their names in the will; if they were to be asked beforehand, they’d say no; so don’t you tell either of them till I’m gone. And talking of that—don’t let my niece or any one else hear a word about this. I shall keep the will myself this time, and you will be the only person to know where it is to be found. Otherwise, they’ll all be scrabbling after it as soon as the breath is out of me—perhaps before; and it may be a whim, but I don’t like the notion. Lucy’s a good sort; but then she is only a woman, and curious, like the rest of ’em. I shall tell her to send for you when the right time comes; and then you can lay your hand upon the will and do what’s needful—which will bring a little more grist to your mill, to console you. Get the thing ready by to-morrow at this time, and bring it here with two witnesses, as before. Bring the old will as well; I wish to destroy it myself.’
‘That is hardly necessary,’ said the solicitor, catching at he knew not what straw of hope; ‘it will be effectually revoked by the later document.’
‘Don’t you argue with me; do as I tell you. I say I shall destroy it with my own hands; then there can’t be any question about it.—Don’t fail to come to-morrow; I want to get it over. I don’t think there’s much time to waste. If you were to take me anywhere near a churchyard and lay me down, I doubt I shouldn’t be in a hurry to get up again.’
Mr Blackford attempted a politely deprecatory murmur, but was testily interrupted. ‘Oh, I daresay you won’t be sorry to get your money. I’m tired talking. Mind you do just as I have told you.—Good-day.’
It was not until he found himself sitting in his own room, staring blankly at the opposite wall, that the solicitor realised the full weight of his misfortune. He had no feeling of anger; the blow, though he had all along had a lurking presentiment of it, was too cruel and staggering, now that it had fallen, to arouse any such emotion. He was bitterly disappointed. A thousand pounds! But a few months ago, a thousand pounds would have seemed a fortune, and the windfall would have set him planning innumerable ways of turning it to the best advantage. But what was it now to him, who had been deprived of the expectation of a sum which would have rendered all planning unnecessary, only to be resorted to as a recreation, for the remainder of his life? Nothing, and worse than nothing—a mere tantalising taste of the good fortune which ought in justice—so it really appeared to him—to have been his. And must he now give up all his hopes? Must he remain for ever a mere plodding man of business of doubtful reputation—even with a thousand pounds of capital? Were the delights of unlimited leisure, of freedom from thought for the morrow, of unstinted gratification of animal appetites, of worldly consideration, never to be his, after all? He was fast approaching middle life; the time remaining to him for the enjoyment of all these things was growing shorter and shorter. To the purer pleasures of honest labour, to the noble ambition of building up a modest fortune by dauntless perseverance and undeviating rectitude, in the hope that some day, with folded hands, he might fearlessly await the end in the quiet of an old age free from reproach—to all this he was utterly a stranger; nor would the prospect, had it been suggested, have at all allured him. His life had been one of poverty tempered by knaveries too petty to attract punishment; his dream of success had been one of sudden and unearned wealth, coming without effort, to be applied only to selfish gratification. To such men, crime, as crime, presents nothing repulsive; they abstain from it only so long as it offers no advantage commensurate with the risk. Given advantage and opportunity, crime follows with the certainty of a mathematical demonstration. He would not give way without a struggle. He could not. Something must be done. But what?
He opened his safe, and took out the will which was to have made him rich, and by that time to-morrow would be a mere piece of waste paper. He read it through, dwelling on every word with the bitterness of one who takes leave of hope for ever. When he came to the end, he gave a slight start of surprise—the date was blank. It had been left blank, he remembered, when the document was signed. He had intended to fill it in on his return to the office, but he had forgotten to do so. It should have been the 28th of November. What did it matter now! He threw the will on his desk with a despairing gesture, and walked up and down, trying to think. His brain was in a whirl; he could see no loophole of escape from the impending sacrifice. Then he remembered—and it came to him as an additional stab—that he had his bread to earn; whatever else he might do, he must at present carry out his client’s instructions. He must with his own hands prepare the instrument which was to rob him—so he put it to himself—of his just expectations.
As he turned to the table, his eye again fell upon the blank space at the end of the will where the date should have been inserted; and at that moment, the crime which was to come to his aid stepped up softly behind him and whispered its first hint into his ear.