There was a covert sarcasm in the old man's voice which vexed me. "Every movement of Mr Thorneley's must be a matter of general interest," I said, with equal satire.
"Ha, ha, ha! Very good--given me back in my own kind,--tit for tat. Like you all the better for it, Mr. Kavanagh,--a sharp lawyer is a good thing in its way. Well, you've not repudiated the curiosity, so I'll satisfy it. I sent for you to make my Will;" and again he turned on me those shrewd glittering eyes, as if enjoying the amazement I could not entirely suppress.
"But I thought--" I stammered; "surely, sir, your own lawyers are the fittest persons; it is against etiquette. Indeed, sir, I'd rather not have any thing to do with it."
"You will be paid sir," he said rudely.
"It is not a question of payment, Mr. Thorneley; simply, you place me, I foresee, in an awkward position with regard to a firm with whom I am on the most friendly terms. But of course they are acquainted with your desire of having my services?"
"Of course they are nothing of the sort. If you are squeamish in the matter, I can get another man to do my business, and they'll not be a bit more enlightened on the subject. Whomsoever I employ must be bound to inviolable secrecy during my lifetime. Let us understand each other, Mr. Kavanagh: I sent for you because I knew you to be a discreet man, on whose prudence after my death I could rely. But I do not choose that Smith and Walker should know any thing of this transaction. You can do as you please in the matter, but you must make your decision now."
I gave a rapid glance at my position with all the care time would allow; and one consideration outweighed every thing else,--I take heaven to witness it!--the thought that Hugh Atherton's interests, which I felt to be now involved, would be safer in my hands than in those of any other man; and I replied, "So be it, Mr. Thorneley; you may command my services." If I had known what was coming; if in mercy one shadowy vision of that miserable future had been vouchsafed to me; if but a ray of light had illumined my darkened sight, I had shaken the dust off my feet, and left that doomed house never again to cross its threshold.
Thorneley rose and pushed a small writing-table towards me, on which was placed the printed form of a will to be filled in.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"I am."