About three weeks after the coming of this letter, I received a note from Mrs. Montgomery asking me to call. On meeting her, I noticed something in her manner that struck me as unusual. She did not smile, as was her wont, when we met, her countenance retaining its usual serious expression. I thought she looked paler, and just a little troubled. “Thank you for calling so promptly, Doctor,” she said. “I am afraid you will think me troublesome. But you have always shown a kindly interest in me, though a stranger; and have proved, in all cases, a sound adviser.” I bowed, and she continued: “I have a second letter from Mr. Wallingford. He has, he writes, been well received by my relatives, who had placed in his hands, for examination, a large quantity of papers that belonged to Colonel Willoughby.” “If they contain any evidence in the right direction, he will be sure to find it,” said I. “No doubt of that. But”--I thought her voice faltered a little--“the question is solved, and he may return.” “Solved! How?” I asked quickly. “I have found the will.” “What?” “I have found the will,” she repeated, in a steady tone, “and that solves the question.” “Is it in your favor?” I asked, and then held my breath for a reply. It came in a firmly uttered-- “No.” We looked steadily into each other's face for several moments. “In whose favor?” “In favor of Theresa Garcia his wife,” she replied. “But she is dead,” I answered quickly. “True--but I am not his heir.” She said this resolutely. “She died childless,” said I, “and will not the descent stop with her?--the property reverting to you, as next of kin to Captain Allen?” “She may have relatives--a brother or sister,” said Mrs. Montgomery. “That is scarcely probable,” I objected. “It is possible; and in order to ascertain the fact, all right means ought to, and must be, taken.” “Where did you find the will?” I inquired. “Blanche was examining a small drawer in an old secretary, when she accidentally pressed her hand against one side, which yielded. She pressed harder, lad it continued to yield, until it was pushed back several inches. On withdrawing this pressure, the side returned to its place. She then tried to see how far it could be forced in. As soon as it had passed a certain point, a secret drawer, set in vertically, sprung up, and from the side, which fell open, the will dropped out.” “It is singular,” said I, “that it should come to light just at this time.” “It is Providential, no doubt,” Mrs. Montgomery remarked. “What course will you pursue?” I inquired. “My first step will be to recall Mr. Wallingford.” “I must take the liberty of a friend, and object to that,” said I. “On what ground?” “This will may be worth the paper on which it is written, and no more. If the legatee have no relatives, you stand just where you stood before, and will require the evidence as to identity for which Mr. Wallingford is now in search. Oh, no, Mrs. Montgomery; he must not be recalled.”