"Little had made a will. My own solicitor drew it, and holds it at this moment." This was the intelligence Coventry had to communicate.
"Very well; then now I shall know who is coming to the 'Gosshawk' for the five thousand pounds. That will be the next act of the comedy, you will see."
"Wait a moment. He leaves to Mrs. Little his own reversion to a sum of nineteen hundred pounds, in which she has already the life interest; he gives a hundred pounds to his sweetheart Dence: all the rest of his estate, in possession or expectation, he bequeaths to-- Miss Carden."
"Good heavens! Why then--" Mr. Carden could say no more, for astonishment.
"So," said Coventry, "If he is alive, she is the confederate who is to profit by the fraud; those five thousand pounds belong to her at this moment."
"Are you sure? Who is your authority?"
"A communicative clerk, who happens to be the son of a tenant of mine. The solicitor himself, I believe, chooses to doubt his client's decease. It is at his private request that horrible object is refused Christian burial."
"Legal grounds, I suppose; the man did not die regularly, and according to precedent. He omitted to provide himself with two witnesses previously to being blown up. In a case of this kind we may safely put an old-fashioned attorney's opinion out of the question. What do YOU think? That is all I care to know."