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. It was a revelation. Mr Blackford, as he sat and thought out the details, though by no means a religious man, almost considered it to be providential. No shrinking from the cruel wrong he was about to commit, no sentiment of justice or compassion interfered with his determination to avail himself of it to its fullest extent. He set to work at once. His first step was to walk across to the law-stationer and inform him that the writer who had witnessed a will on a former occasion would be required for a like service to-morrow. The testator, he explained, was the same; he was making a fresh will; he was an eccentric old gentleman, who insisted that the very persons who had attested the old will should also attest the new one; and he took the precaution of seeing the writer himself and making sure of his attendance. As he went back to the office, he warned Jobson that he, too, would be required for the same purpose. He got down his books and set to work. He drew the new will with the greatest care and accuracy, according to the instructions which he had just received. Everything was vested in the trustees named, in trust to pay the income to the testator’s dear niece Lucy, the wife of Thomas Wedlake, for her life, for her separate use, free from the debts, control, or engagements of her present or any future husband. After her death, the fund was to be divided amongst her children as she should direct; in default of children, the whole to be paid to the Vintners’ Company of London. Nothing was neglected; all the usual and proper powers and provisos were inserted with careful attention to detail.