‘Now’s the time, Laura,’ he cried, in an excited tone, though he spoke under his breath. ‘Alec is safe in the library, and the will is lying on the bed, probably; or at any rate it is somewhere in the bedroom. You have only to whisper to uncle that the solicitor’s managing clerk, Mr. Beattie, wants to look over the will to see that it is all right, and he will let you take it at once.’ ‘But, James, I don’t like doing it. Can’t you think of any other way of getting a sight of it?’ ‘No, I can’t.’ ‘Why can’t you go yourself, and tell my uncle this?’ ‘Of course he would suspect that I wished to read it.’ ‘And is it really necessary that you should see it?’ ‘Didn’t I tell you this morning, Laura, that unless I can get a sight of it, I shall never see a penny of that two hundred thousand pounds?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because if the will is not in my favour, I will press my uncle to revoke it, after that minister has gone. But unless you want to ruin me, you will go now. Soon Alec will be back from the library, and then it will be too late.’ Still Laura was not satisfied. ‘Couldn’t you manage to be in the room when the will is read over to your uncle, before he signs it?’ ‘No, no; that has been done already. That is--it won’t be done. Now do go, Laura, unless you mean to make us poor all our lives.’ A smile that was half-contemptuous passed over Laura Mowbray’s pretty face, as she glided away from the drawing-room. She certainly did not intend to be poor all her life in the company of Mr. James Semple. In less than a minute she had reached Mr. Lindsay’s room. Dr. Mackenzie was still there, standing with his back to the room, looking out of the window. Laura glided up to the bed and spoke some words in a tone so low that the old man could not catch them. He knew, however, that the visitor downstairs was Messrs. Hatchett’s managing clerk, so that when Laura lifted the unsigned will lying beside him, he merely said, ‘Do they want to see it?’ at which Laura nodded, and took it away. The minister saw that she had come and gone, but he ascribed no importance to what passed. He did not notice, indeed, that the will had been removed. Laura carried it to the drawing-room, where Semple was impatiently waiting for her. Almost snatching the paper from her hand, he said in a whisper, ‘Stand just outside the door and listen, in case the library door should open,’ and took the will to one of the windows at the farther end of the room, to read it. Laura obeyed so far as to stand in the doorway, from which position she could hear anyone opening the door of the library, on the floor below. Semple’s scrutiny of the will did not last long. Very soon he returned to Laura, with satisfaction in his face and bearing.