He made not the smallest movement or sign by which the two strangers could gather one passing glimpse of the agony it cost him to say it, for their attention was fixed on the younger man. But Christopher saw nothing else and had thought for nothing but how soonest to quench that fierce pain. The preposterous catastrophe was evidently true, but surely his own will and wishes were of some account. He put his hand on Aymer, searching for words which would not form into sense. "Take your time, take your time, young man," broke in Mr. Saunderson's resonant voice. "It's not the sort of event a man can be hurried over. You will grasp it more clearly in a few minutes." Christopher turned and looked at him. "I believe I quite grasp the matter," he said coolly. "Mr. Masters has, with no doubt the kindest meaning in the world, left his fortune to me. It's unfortunate that I don't happen to want all this money. I couldn't possibly do with it." Mr. Saunderson leant back in his chair with a tolerant smile as if this were just what he would expect to hear after the shock, but Aymer bit his lip as if face to face with some inevitable ill. Christopher leant towards him. "You are worrying about it, Caesar. There can't be any need to say any more now. Of course it's out of the question my accepting it. They can't make me a millionaire against my wishes, I suppose. Anyhow it's a preposterous will." "There is no will," began Caesar and then looked at the big lawyer, "tell him," he added shortly. Mr. Saunderson cleared his throat. "That is so. There is no will and the fortune naturally goes to the next of kin." "Very well, then," returned Christopher, with blunt relief. "I believe he told me once he had a son somewhere. You had better find him. I don't want to deprive him of his luck." Again the embarrassing silence. Then the big lawyer got up and bowed solemnly to Christopher. "We have found him. Allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Mr. Masters." Christopher wheeled round on him like a man struck. "No!" he cried with passionate emphasis. "Caesar, it's not true. Tell them so." But Caesar lay very still and looked past them all, staring blankly at the opposite wall. It seemed to Christopher the watching eyes of the others imprisoned him, held him in subjection. He got up. "Let me out," he muttered between his teeth, though none impeded him. He walked across the room to the fireplace and stood with his back to them, his hand mechanically altering the order of a procession of black elephants that stood there. Aymer broke the silence, speaking with clear evenness. "Shakleton, will you take Mr. Saunderson into the library. You will find my brother there, probably." "Certainly, Mr. Aston. Shall I leave these?" He indicate the papers on the table before him. "Yes. Leave them where they are."