Paul looked somewhat re-assured, though
he still hesitated. " May I say one word
to you, sir?" he whispered.

Mr. Frost stepped with him outside the
door, which Paul closed and held in his
hand while he spoke.

"Sir," said he, " she is not his wife.
You see, I knew it all along, but it was not
for me to interfere. How could I? I am
but a domestic. But, the parents— the
relations, I mean— of Sir John in England
will know very well who has a right to
the property. I say nothing against miladi,
but the truth is, that Sir John was angry
with her for some time before he died.
Now why does she want the will, sir?
If there is anything left to her in it she
will get it safely by the law."

Paul emphasised his speech by a
prolonged and grave shaking of his head from
side to side.

"Paul," said Mr. Frost, after a moment's
deliberation, " miladi, as you call her, was
married to Sir John Gale." Then he told
him in a few words when and where the
ceremony had been performed.

Paul remembered the expedition to the
ship of war, and how ill and exhausted
his master had been after it. He was
much astonished by Mr. Frost's
statement, and reiterated his assertion that Sir
John had been very angry with " miladi"
before he died. How was it then, that he
had made her his wife at the eleventh
hour?

It appeared clear to Mr. Frost that Paul
had no suspicion of the existence of a
former wife, or of any fraudulent intention
on the part of his late master.

"At all events I suppose you believe my
word, do you not?" said Mr. Frost. " The
marriage on board the man-of-war I have
reason to be sure did take place."

"Oh, no doubt, sir!"

"And remember, Paul, although I
perfectly appreciate your fidelity to the
interests of your late master, that you have no
conceivable right to retain possession of
that key, when Lady Gale bids you give it
up."

"I am sure, sir, I desire nothing but to
do my duty. Sir John was hard in some
things, but he has done a great deal
for me. He took me, from being a courier,
to be his valet; and he gave me a liberal
salary, sir, and I have been able from my
sparings to do well for my family. I
could not go against my duty to Sir John,
sir!"

There was absolutely a quiver of emotion
in Paul's well-regulated voice as he spoke.
He was so fond of his boys in the
Piedmontese hills, that Sir John, from
constant connection with them in his mind,
had attracted some soft sentiments of Paul's
to his own share. And besides: under
the little man's grave imperturbability
there was quite a feminine power of
becoming attached to that which needed
him, in proportion as it was unattractive
to the rest of the world. He had often
told himself that if he were to leave Sir
John, the latter would never get any one
to serve him so well. For Sir John was
a terribly hard gentleman, to say truth!
During Sir John's lifetime, Paul had
occasionally come nigh to finding him
intolerable. But now that he was dead, the man
actually missed, and mourned for, his daily
plague.

"Have you succeeded in making my
servant understand that he will have to
obey me, Mr. Frost?" asked Veronica,
when the two men re-opened the door of
the boudoir.

"Paul quite understands," said Mr. Frost,
quietly.

Barletti looked angry, but he gave his
arm to Veronica without making any
remark, and they all descended the stairs to
the ground-floor, on which Sir John's
bedroom was situated.

"Go on Paul, and open the door," said
Mr. Frost. Then, as the servant obeyed
him, he fell back a step or two, and said in
a low voice, to Barletti and Veronica: " If
you will take my advice, you will conciliate
Paul. He is honest, I think. And it might
come to pass that you would be glad to have
him on your side."

"Conciliate him!" echoed Veronica, with
a frown, and a cruel compression of her red
lips, " I would turn him into the street this
moment. He should not be another night
beneath this roof if I could have my way."

"Cara mia! Per pietà! Be reasonable!"
whispered Barletti, on whom the lawyer's
warning produced a strong effect.

Paul unlocked the door of the dead man's
chamber, and, holding a lamp high above
his head, stood aside just within the
threshold to let the others pass. All traces of
disorder had been removed from the room.
It was dim and still. The one oil lamp
that burnt there, threw deep shadows on
the walls, and faintly illumined the objects
that immediately surrounded its pale flame.
The floor was covered with a thick carpet
into which the foot sank noiselessly. Gleams
of gold shone out mysteriously here and