"What a complete scoundrel!" said Durham to himself. "And how confoundedly clever. Of course, if the real Bernard were dead this will might stand. At all events, even if Miss Malleson could prove that Michael is not her lover, the new will might lead to litigation. However, as Bernard is alive and well we can produce him at the eleventh hour to frighten Beryl. I am afraid that young man will be hanged after all, though I am unwilling, for the sake of the family, that things should come to that pass." However, Durham, true to his appointment, arrived at the station the next day and had the will in his pocket. Julius read it in the train going down and expressed his approval of it. It was now Durham's cue to behave politely to Julius, and as though he truly believed in him and in the false Bernard Gore. But on the previous night he had written a long letter to Miss Berengaria, which was to be read to Alice. In it Durham told the whole of Beryl's scheme to get possession of the property. But for obvious reasons he said nothing of Tolomeo's story or Beryl's real guilt. He thought, very truly, that even Miss Berengaria's nerves could not stand being brought into such close relationship with a proven murderer, let alone that Alice might reveal the truth out of sheer disgust. But the letter prepared the minds of both ladies for the execution of the will. On arriving at the Bower the two men were met by Jerry, looking more innocent and child-like than ever. "Please, missus says will you go into the drawing-room?" said the infant, casting down his eyes. Durham looked hard at the young scoundrel who was such a worthy instrument of Beryl's. He would have liked to examine him then and there touching his luring of Bernard to Crimea Square, but the present moment was not propitious, so he passed on. Julius, however, in a most benevolent way spoke to the boy--"I hope you are giving your good mistress satisfaction?" "Oh yes, sir. But she was angry at me writing and telling you about the poor sick gentleman." "By the way, Jerry, how did you find out about him?" asked Durham. "I saw him arrive," said Jerry, ingenuously. "I was in the garden when he came. I wouldn't have written, sir, if I had known that my dear missus wanted it kept dark. But Mr. Beryl was so anxious about Sir Bernard that I thought he would be glad to know he was alive." "How did you know this gentleman was Sir Bernard?" "I heard James the coachman describe him, and then I knew." "All the same, Jerry," said Julius, benevolently, "if Miss Berengaria wished the fact of Sir Bernard's being here kept quiet, you should not have disclosed it even to me." "But I wished to set your mind at rest," murmured Jerry, looking up with dove-like eyes. "I owe you so much, sir."