"Oh, Lawrence!" said Alma. "Why did you not tell us? why did you not show it? How much trouble it would have saved."
"Have patience, Alma. Let Mr. Belford rise and bring the will."
"No," said Mr. Franklin. "Hear the rest of the story. Mr. Belford, you destroyed or suppressed that will, did you not?"
"Yes, I did—damn you!"
"Good Lord!" cried the sheriff. "Did ye hear that?—destroyed it! That's State's prison."
"Oh, Mr. Franklin, Mr. Denny! have mercy on me! Do not let them arrest me."
The poor creature seemed to be utterly cowed and crushed in an instant.
"Marcy!" said the sheriff, taking out a pair of handcuffs. "It's little marcy ye'll git."
"You ask for mercy!" cried Mr. Denny, his face livid with passion. "You—you wretch! Have you not ruined me? Have you not made my child a beggar, and carried my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave? You knew the value of this will—and you destroyed it! Your other crimes are as nothing to this. I could forgive your monstrous frauds in my mills——"
Mr. Belford winced and looked surprised.