The Greatest Murder Mysteries - G.A. Henty Edition. G. A. Henty
Misses Harmer, who bowed to Dr. Ashleigh, his son, and the solicitor, all of whom they had seen before, but who took no notice whatever of the presence of Robert Gregory.
The Misses Harmer were accompanied, or rather followed into the room by a gentleman, whom it was easy to see by his dress was an ecclesiastic of the Romish Church, and who was an entire stranger to Dr. Ashleigh.
"This gentleman," Miss Harmer said, introducing him, "is Father Eustace, a friend of ours for many years, and who, having heard of our loss, has come over from abroad to assist and comfort us with his presence and advice."
Father Eustace was a pale, ascetic looking man, with large, eager bright eyes; his complexion was dark and swarthy, and he looked every inch what he was—an Italian. He spoke English with a strong foreign accent, but still grammatically and pretty distinctly. He bowed courteously to those present, and then took his seat, and during what followed occupied himself in closely scrutinizing their countenances, especially those of Dr. Ashleigh and Robert Gregory, as if desirous to judge for himself how nearly they tallied with the description he had received of them.
The Misses Harmer were very pale, but had a quiet, fixed look about them, in which Dr. Ashleigh thought he read their determination to listen with composure to the reading of the will, which would place the hated Robert and Sophy Gregory in the position of master and mistress of Harmer Place.
For some little time after they had taken their seats there was a dead silence, as if each were waiting for the other to begin. At last Mr. Petersfield said—
"With your permission, Miss Harmer, I will at once proceed to read the will of my late client, Mr. Herbert Harmer. Will you be good enough to hand it to me?"
"I have not any will of my brother in my possession," Miss Harmer answered, coldly.
"Not in your possession, madam? But you are doubtless aware where your late brother was in the habit of keeping his important documents?"
"I have looked, Mr. Petersfield, among his papers, but I have found no will among them."
There was a pause of blank astonishment.
"How is it, Mr. Petersfield," Dr. Ashleigh said, gravely, "that you have not Mr. Harmer's will in your custody?"
"It was in our hands, doctor, until about two months ago, when Mr. Harmer wrote to me, saying that he was desirous of making some slight alterations in it, and requesting me to forward it. I did so, in charge of one of my clerks. On the day he came down here, some friend of Mr. Harmer's died—I understood it was Mrs. Ashleigh—and he told my clerk that he did not feel equal to attend to business, but that if he would leave the document with him, he would look it over, and write to me to send down again in a short time to make the alterations he required. I did not hear any further from him, and therefore supposed that he had either changed his mind in reference to the alteration, or had forgotten the matter altogether. I remember, when my clerk came back, he told me that he had ventured to suggest that so valuable a document ought to be kept in a safe place, and that Mr. Harmer had smiled, and answered, 'You need not be afraid on that score. I have a place to put it in where all the burglars in the world could not get at it."
There was again a blank silence, and then the solicitor went on—
"In any case, madam, I think it but right that we should search Mr. Harmer's library thoroughly."
"Certainly, Mr. Petersfield; you are quite at liberty to search where you like. Father Eustace, will you do me the kindness to accompany these gentlemen."
Father Eustace at once rose, and preceded the others to the library.
"This looks a very strange business, Mr. Petersfield," Dr. Ashleigh said, on their way thither.
"Very—very much so indeed, doctor, and I do not think our search here is likely to be attended with any success."
The library was thoroughly ransacked. Every drawer was pulled out and examined for secret hiding-places; the books were all taken down from their shelves to look behind them; every place, possible and impossible, was searched, but, as the lawyer had predicted, without the slightest result. Harry and Robert Gregory performed the active portion of the work, the doctor and Mr. Petersfield directing their operations, and examining the piles of papers which came to light during the search. All were very silent: they were too interested and excited to talk. From time to time Robert Gregory muttered savage execrations between his teeth; but, with that exception, the search was conducted in silence.
The priest sat quietly and watched them—watched them, and not their proceedings: in these he seemed to have no curiosity, his attention being directed entirely to the way in which they each bore their disappointment.
The search lasted for an hour. By that time the place had been completely ransacked, and every possible place examined; and the whole floor of the room was closely covered with books, papers, scientific apparatus, and the accumulated litter of years. When all was done, and it was evident that no corner remained unexplored, the searchers rested from their work, wiped the perspiration from their foreheads, and looked at their leader for further instructions.
Dr. Ashleigh drew the solicitor to a door which led into the garden, opened it, and went out with him, so that they could converse without restraint from the presence of the priest.
"This is an extraordinary business, Mr. Petersfield," Dr. Ashleigh said; "what do you think of it?"
"Do you consult me professionally, Dr. Ashleigh?" the lawyer asked, in return.
"Certainly I do," Dr. Ashleigh said vehemently. "Mr. Harmer was one of my oldest and my dearest friends; and even were I not so deeply interested in the discovery of the will as I am, I would spend every penny I have in the world in seeing his wishes carried out. You are aware of the nature of the will?"
"In a general way I am. My late partner, Mr. Ransome, who has managed Mr. Harmer's business ever since he came to England, some twenty-three years ago, told me that Mr. Harmer had left all his property, with the exception of some comparatively small legacies, between your children and his illegitimate grandchild, Miss Needham—now, as I understand, Mrs. Gregory."
"Precisely," Dr. Ashleigh said. "This is the disposition he publicly announced that he had made of his property; and in the event of this will not being found, I presume the Misses Harmer, as his only relations, will inherit everything?"
"Clearly so, doctor. It is a most awkward business. However, we cannot now determine what steps to take: we shall have plenty of time for that hereafter. Is there any other place you can suggest as worth searching—his bed-room, for instance?"
"None at all," the doctor answered. "Mr. Harmer was a man of the simplest personal habits. His bed-room is furnished just as it was in India—a plain French bedstead without hangings, an India matting on the floor, a few cane chairs, and a small chest of drawers. No, it is no use searching there."
"Or anywhere, I believe, frankly," Mr. Petersfield said. "Wherever the will may be, we shall never find it."
So saying, they returned into the library. Father Eustace was sitting unmoved in the chair where they had left him. Harry was pacing up and down that portion of the floor which remained free from the books and instruments, sometimes stopping and looking out of the window, and drumming on the panes with his fingers in a state of angry impatience; he was anxious and uneasy, but he could not believe that the will was more than mislaid for a time.
Robert Gregory had cast himself sullenly into an arm chair, and sat with his elbows on the arms, and his chin resting on his hands. His face was flushed, his eyes wide open, and his lips set hard. A deadly sensation of despair was stealing over him, which he in vain strove against. Was it possible that, after all these years of scheming and watchfulness, his prize was to be snatched from him in the moment of success? He could not and would not believe it, and yet he had a hopeless feeling in him which told him that the will was either lost or destroyed, and that it would never be found or heard of again. When Mr. Petersfield said, "We can do no good here—let us return to the drawing-room," he rose, and followed the others mechanically.
The Misses Harmer were