"Fools," said Miss Berengaria, as she drove back in her brougham with Durham to the office of the lawyer. "I don't think that," expostulated Durham. "Under the circumstances the jury could hardly bring in a different verdict." "You know that Bernard is innocent," snapped the lady. "Certainly! But on the evidence before them--" "A fig for the evidence!" interrupted Miss Berengaria. "I go by my own knowledge of the boy. He wouldn't kill a fly." "Ah! But you see, the men on the jury never met Bernard." Finding the lawyer too strong for her, Miss Berengaria changed the subject, being determined not to acknowledge defeat. "Have you heard from young Gore?" she asked. "No. He may be drowned for all I know." "For all you know, and you know nothing." "More's the pity, Miss Plantagenet. Did I know anything I might be able to satisfy myself that Gore is alive." "Of course he is alive." "On what ground do you say that?" asked Durham, surprised. "On the grounds of common sense. Bernard is not the man to die when his living is needed to prove his innocence." This was so truly a feminine argument that Durham, with a shrug, held his tongue. "There's no more to be said," he remarked. "I know that," snapped Miss Berengaria in a bad humor. "I am quite upset by all the rubbish those fools have been talking. What's to be done next?" "I shall go down to Gore Hall and read the will." "Ha!" said the old lady, brightly. "Can you do that until you are sure of the death of Bernard?" "Yes. He may be dead after all--" "He isn't, I tell you." "Then it is all the better he should be thought to be so," said Durham, giving up the point in the face of this firm opposition. "Why?" asked Miss Berengaria promptly. "Because no search will be made for Gore should he be alive and in hiding. Yet I fear Beryl will search." "I don't see why he should. Oh, I see what you mean. Sir Simon, the horrid old--Well, we'll say nothing about that. But he has left the money to Beryl, after disinheriting Bernard for keeping faith with my poor Alice." "Not exactly that," said Durham, hesitating. "I can't tell you the contents of the will, Miss Plantagenet, as--" "I know," she snapped. "You needn't tell me that. I'll come to the Hall and hear it read. But, of course, I know it already." "In that case there's no more to be said," replied the solicitor, suppressing a smile. Miss Berengaria saw it. "Ha!" said she, sharply and pondering. "So Bernard's not disinherited after all." "I never said so." "You smiled. That's quite enough for me. 'A nod's as good as a wink to a blind horse.' Not that I'm a horse or blind. Thank God I have my eyesight and can read print with glasses. Well, keep your professional secrets, but tell me this: Will Beryl--the deuce take him--hunt for Bernard?" "Not if he thinks he is drowned, as is probable," said Durham, rather surprised at hearing strong language from the lips of the lady. "And if he thinks otherwise?"