‘And I leave and bequeath to the person who shall be the Moderator of the Free Church of Scotland at the time of my death, and to all the persons then surviving who shall have filled that office, and to every person who shall hereafter fill that office, the sum of five thousand pounds in trust----’ A hoarse, inarticulate cry had burst from Dr. Mackenzie’s lips. The lawyer stopped and looked at him. ‘Read that again if you please, sir,’ said the minister, in a hard, stern voice. Mr. Hatchett eyed him for a moment before he bent again over the paper. ‘And I leave and bequeath to the person who shall be the Moderator of the Free Church of Scotland at the time of my death, and to all the persons then surviving who shall have filled that office, and to every person who shall hereafter fill that office, the sum of five thousand pounds in trust for----’ ‘There is some mistake here,’ said Dr. Mackenzie, rising and going up to the table. The lawyer contemptuously pushed the paper under the minister’s eyes and pointed silently to the words. Yes; there they were plainly--five thousand pounds. Dr. Adamson came up behind, and having with trembling fingers put his spectacles on his nose, he peered into the paper, and satisfied himself that the words were ‘five thousand pounds’ beyond any possibility of doubt. Dr. Mackenzie was trembling with anxiety and passion. It was not only that an annual sum which would have doubled his income was lost to him; nor was it only the injury done to his Church that moved him; he felt that both he and the cause which he had at heart had been shamefully defrauded. He looked at the signatures of the witnesses. They were, or appeared to be, the same as when he had seen them affixed. The date was correct. There was no appearance of erasure, no possibility that the words had been tampered with. While the minister had been examining the will there was a deep silence. He now laid it on the table, and leaning one hand upon it, said in a grave tone: ‘All I can say is that my deceased friend expressed his intention to me of leaving half a million of money to the Church of which I am a member. He consulted me on the subject. He showed me a draft of the will, in which that sum _was_ so left----’ ‘In figures, or in words, sir?’ asked the lawyer sharply. ‘I think it was both in words and in figures. But the draft can be sent for, and it will be found to bear me out. And more than that, I heard Mr. Lindsay’s nephew read the will to him before he signed it, and the sum he read was five _hundred_ thousand pounds. ‘There I think you are mistaken, Dr. Mackenzie.’ It was James Semple who spoke. He had not risen. He was very pale. His left arm remained folded across his breast; with his right hand he was pulling his moustache. Laura gazed at him curiously. ‘What, sir!’ shouted Dr. Mackenzie. ‘I only say that you are mistaken in thinking that my cousin read what you say he did. As to my uncle’s intentions I know nothing.’