"Never! I never remember my uncle speaking of him in any particular fashion--to me. He was simply--there. Sometimes, you saw him; sometimes, you didn't see him. At times, I mean, you'd meet him at dinner--other times, you didn't." Burchill paused for a while; when he asked his next question he seemed to adopt a more particular and pressing tone. "Now--have you the least idea who Tertius is?" he asked. "Not the slightest!" affirmed Barthorpe. "I never have known who he is. I never liked him--I didn't like his sneaky way of going about the house--I didn't like anything of him--and he never liked me. I always had a feeling--a sort of intuition--that he resented my presence--in fact, my existence." "Very likely," said Burchill, with a dry laugh. "Well--has it ever struck you that there was a secret between Tertius and Jacob Herapath?" Barthorpe started. At last they were coming to something definite. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "So--that's the secret you mentioned in that letter?" "Never mind," replied Burchill. "Answer my question." "No, then--it never did strike me." "Very well," said Burchill. "There is a secret." "There is?" "There is! And," whispered Burchill, rising and coming nearer to his visitor, "it's a secret that will put you in possession of the whole of the Herapath property! And--I know it." Barthorpe had by this time realized the situation. And he was thinking things over at a rapid rate. Burchill had asked Jacob Herapath for ten thousand pounds as the price of his silence; therefore---- "And, of course, you want to make something out of your knowledge?" he said presently. "Of course," laughed Burchill. He opened a box of cigars, selected one and carefully trimmed the end before lighting it. "Of course!" he repeated. "Who wouldn't? Besides, you'll be in a position to afford me something when you come into all that." "The will?" suggested Barthorpe. Burchill threw the burnt-out match into the fire. "The will," he said slowly, "will be about as valuable as that--when I've fixed things up with you. Valueless!" "You mean it?" exclaimed Barthorpe incredulously. "Then--your signature?" "Look here!" said Burchill. "The only thing between us is--terms! Fix up terms with me, and I'll tell you the whole truth. And then--you'll see!" "Well--what terms?" demanded Barthorpe, a little suspiciously. "If you want money down----" "You couldn't pay in cash down what I want, nor anything like it," said Burchill. "I may want an advance that you can pay--but it will only be an advance. What I want is ten per cent. on the total value of Jacob Herapath's property." "Good heavens!" exclaimed Barthorpe. "Why I believe he'll cut up for a good million and a half!" "That's about the figure--as I've reckoned it," assented Burchill. "But you'll have a lot left when you've paid me ten per cent." Barthorpe fidgeted in his chair. "When did you find out this secret?" he asked.