So long as he had only had to deal with men like Philip Debenham senior, all had gone well. He had fleeced him with impunity, speculated with his money, and had contrived that all gain should be his own, and all loss his client’s. He had even gone so far as to speculate with Maud’s trust-money, and the speculation had been a lamentable failure. Belassis’ own fortune, too, had suffered through his folly and ill luck; and since this new relative had turned up, with his cool inquiring words and amused incredulous looks, the ground seemed actually slipping away from under his feet, and he could only lean upon his wife for support. The idea that she might now learn the treacherous part he had played towards her, was an added terror; and Belassis sometimes felt disposed to make a bolt for it, and get away altogether from his present surroundings, but his natural weakness and irresolution deterred him. ‘I’m afraid I am but a poor creature, my dear,’ he answered, with a sickly smile. ‘I think I cannot be very well just now.’ ‘Pooh, nonsense! You’re well enough, only cowardly. Now look here. I’m nearly sure that Philip Debenham has never seen those words about the later will. For one thing, I don’t believe the paper had ever been unfolded before I opened it out; and for another, if Philip had known of it, the search would have been instituted at once; and if the will had been in existence at all, it would have been found. I’ve never heard that any search has been made; and besides, although Philip did ask you something about a later will, it seemed to be pure guess-work, for he imagined that it had fallen into your hands.’ ‘I wish to heaven it had!’ groaned Belassis. ‘If there is another will, and if it is found, we shall be ruined.’ ‘Just so; and as we both believe that another will was made, we must take care that it falls into no hands but our own.’ Belassis groaned again. ‘You really think he made another?’ ‘You know I always did think he intended making another, when you told me how perfectly ready he was to agree to your suggestion, and to make that condition, and write that letter. You had plenty of bluster in those days, Alfred, and Philip feared you; and you could always get the whip-hand of him by threatening to throw up his business affairs, which he was fool enough to think were prospering in your hands. He dared not oppose you; but I never trusted him, when I knew how easily he had granted that monstrous condition, and that without any love for us or for Lewis. If he had argued and disputed and then given way, I might have believed better in it; as it was, I never had much faith.’ ‘Nor I very much; but I never could find out anything suspicious, and I watched him as a cat does a mouse. Nothing in his papers was found to upset the will in my possession.’