‘Four months ago I was induced by your uncle to make a will most unjust towards you, and towards your dear dead mother, my beloved wife. Why I consented to do this and to write the letter he dictated to me, need not now be explained; suffice it to say that I yielded to pressure (the nature of which you cannot understand), because I knew that it was in my power to reverse the condition which my pen had imposed upon you and upon your future. ‘I have now reversed it. I have done you justice; and it is possible that you may never know the terms of the will which this one will supersede. ‘My child, beware of your uncle, Alfred Belassis. Do not trust him, do not give him one particle of power over you; and above all, try not to fear him. Blind trust, followed by blind fear, has been the curse of my life. I pray that you and Philip may be delivered from a like curse. ‘This fear is still master of me, bitterly though I scorn myself for it. This letter I am now writing, and the will I have just framed, must be hidden away from his sight, or I may be induced to give way to him, and do you irreparable harm. When I feel my end approaching, then and only then shall I reveal to some trusty friend the hiding-place I have selected for these precious papers. Then and only then will you learn how much your father loved you, and how bitterly he suffered for even seeming to consent to do you so deep an injustice. ‘Farewell, my dear and only daughter; think kindly and not scornfully of your weak but unhappy father. ‘PHILIP DEBENHAM.’ CHAPTER XV. THE FALL OF BELASSIS. ‘Somebody must see Belassis about this, Phil,’ said Tor, when the matter of the will had been discussed many times over, in all its bearings. ‘Either you as Maud’s brother, or I as her prospective husband. Which of us shall it be?’ ‘Oh, you,’ answered Phil quickly. ‘I shouldn’t know what to say.’ ‘All right,’ returned Tor. ‘I’ll go—and the sooner he knows his fate, the better.’ ‘It may be vindictive on my part,’ remarked Miss Marjory, ‘but I must say that I feel a savage satisfaction in picturing the overthrow of Belassis.’ Maud laughed at her look and tone. ‘I’m afraid he won’t be so very much overthrown, Miss Marjory. You see, he has quarrelled with Lewis, so he will not care so very much which of us has the money.’ ‘Perhaps he wouldn’t, if there was any money to have; but as he has lost it all, he will care considerably. Lewis would hardly have sued his own father and ruined him; but your natural guardians, Maud, have no choice; and your worthy uncle will be brought to his bearings, as he richly deserves to be.’ Maud began to look grave; but Mrs. Lorraine’s voice now took up the word.