It was the first time he had been near it since the night he had the scuffle with Stephen on the lawn; and, to Jack's eyes, it looked gloomier than ever.
As he entered the hall, a shrunken figure in shabby black came to meet him; it was old Skettle, Hudsley's clerk.
The old man peered at him curiously, and made him a respectful bow in response to Jack's blunt greeting, and opened the library door.
Mr. Hudsley was standing at the table, and looked up with his wrinkled face and keen eyes--not a trace of expression beyond keenness in them. Jack shook hands with him and looked around.
As he spoke the door opened and Stephen entered. Jack, frank and candid, stared at him with astonishment.
In silence they stood beside the grave while all that was mortal of Ralph Davenant was consigned to the earth, and in silence they returned to the library.
With the same stony, impassive countenance, Mr. Hudsley seated himself at the head of the table; Stephen sank into a chair beside him, and sat with his eyes hidden under the white lids; Jack stood with folded arms beside the window, glancing at the far-stretching lawns and watching the servants as they filed in, a long line of black.
When they had all entered Mr. Hudsley drew from his pocket a folded parchment, slowly put on his spectacles, and without looking round, said:
"I am now about to read the last will and testament of Ralph Davenant."
There was a pause, a solemn pause, then he looked up and said:
"This will was drawn up by me on January--last year. It is the last will of which I have any cognizance. A careful search has been made, but no other document of the kind has been found. That is so, Mr. Stephen, is it not?" and he turned to Stephen so suddenly that all eyes followed his.
Stephen paused a moment, then raised his lids, and with a shake of his head and a sigh murmured an assent.
Mr. Hudsley allowed his keen eyes to rest on him for an instant, then slowly looked in the direction of Jack.
Jack, feeling that the remark was addressed to him, nodded and looked at the lawn again.
Mr. Hudsley cleared his throat, and opened the crackling parchment.
There was an intense silence, so intense that Stephen's labored breathing could be heard as plainly as the rain on the windows.