All the little relics and souvenirs that the poor old man had treasured most in life were there; but what could the secret be, that he had so strangely and with such evident emotion and pain referred to, thought Roland, as in nervous haste and sorrow he drew out each tiny drawer in succession--sorrow, for the hands that had touched and the eyes that had seen them last were cold and still now in yonder dark old vault. At last he found a packet carefully sealed with his father's crest, a goat's-head embossed; but directed to no one. He tore it open, and found within the cover, a legal document tied with red tape, and a page or two written by the hand of his father, and bearing the latter's signature. Both these papers Roland read quickly, but he had to do so again and again ere his startled mind could take in their contents. The first was the last will and testament of his grandfather General Roland Ruthven, and the latter was a confession written by his father concerning it. "My God--oh that this could ever be the case!" exclaimed Roland in a broken and hollow voice, as he read them. Philip, the elder brother, had in some mysterious manner incurred the high displeasure of the general, who bequeathed his entire estate and fortune to Patrick, the younger; but, repenting, had executed a second will superseding the first; and this will, Roland's father had found and _suppressed_, while, with a curse upon their father's name and memory, Philip believing himself to be disinherited, went forth into the world and was heard of no more! Philip who had never loved him, continued the old man's tremulously written confession, was gone he knew not where, beyond all trace, so that rumour even said he was dead; and to denounce himself then as the possessor of the second will, was to cut away the ground from under his own feet, when on the very eve of marriage with a girl, whose family would not permit her to marry a penniless younger son--so he had deemed himself thus not intentionally guilty, and that no one's interests suffered by his silence. If he had followed the dictates of the highest principles, he would at once have made the document known; but where was Philip? As time went on Patrick Ruthven became conscience-struck, and he now charged Roland with the task of making some amends if possible, by discovering the lost man or his heirs, if lie had any. A bitter bequest indeed! With a painfully throbbing heart, and hands that trembled, Roland laid the documents down and strove to collect his thoughts. The first dull and stunning emotion, of confusion and unreality past, he looked dreamily around him to see if he was not undergoing a species of nightmare; but no! There was the stately old dining-hall, the spacious Scottish fireplace with its silver fire-dogs, and here were the ebony cabinet of Scindia, with the suppressed will, and the signed confession of his father.