With what indescribable feelings of exultation did Geoffery ride through the splendid park, look back on the baronial remains of the ancient castle, and the grandeur of the modern mansion, then around them on the immeasurable extent of the grounds, the endless variety of the scenery, the magnificent, unfathomable woods, the beautiful openings, displaying in the distance the rich low pastures, with their grazing flocks; the bare hill rising beyond, crowned with herds of deer; bends of the picturesque river, with here the swan or the wild duck sailing on its smooth bosom, there a waterfall, veiling its rocky sides in spray, and clothing its surface with a sheet of foam; all, in short, on which he had so long looked with corroding envy, and fierce thirst for possession, but for many years without a hope.

He checked the bridle of his horse on the centre of a little eminence, inhaled a long draught of the fragrant air, and smiled with supercilious self-importance while he thought of the cheering probability, to which time and chance had at length given birth, that all might yet be his.

He found Doctor Harman at home, and with great solemnity and well-acted sorrow, made known to him the discoveries of the morning. The packet of arsenic being missing, Sir Alfred having been seen coming from the place where it had lain, and the still more extraordinary and, he feared, perfectly decisive circumstance of his having himself seen a packet marked arsenic in Sir Alfred's escritoire.

It was too shocking to be thought of, he said, yet how were such staggering facts as these, together with those which had previously come under the Doctor's own eye, to be got rid of? He wished to retain charitable opinions to the very last. Investigation, however, had become a duty, although he would certainly wish it to be conducted in the most delicate manner possible. In answer to an inquiry from Geoffery, the Doctor said he had already tested the dregs found in the glass, and proved them to be arsenic; to obtain full satisfaction, he added, that it would be very desirable to open the body, and examine by similar tests the contents of the stomach. "But," he proceeded "the request must come from Sir Alfred."

"Which we know will not be the case," replied Geoffery; "on the contrary, I fear he will refuse to permit an examination, and if so, the proper authorities must enforce submission; but I am so anxious to proceed in this affair with the utmost delicacy, that you would greatly oblige me, Doctor, if you would first urge it as your own request—as a matter of favour to yourself—as throwing a light on science. I do not wish unnecessarily to hurt the feelings of Sir Alfred, and if ever I am myself compelled to yield my belief to the frightful suspicions which circumstances, I am sorry to say, almost justify, it must not be till the most ample proof has no longer left me free to doubt."

His object in wishing to act with this affected delicacy was, that Alfred might refuse to allow the body to be opened; as such conduct, under the circumstances, would look suspicious, and he felt certain, knowing as he did Alfred's wish to repress the suicide, that so requested he would of course refuse, while, if he were informed that suspicions already existed, it was to be supposed that he would for his own sake instantly consent. The Doctor, however, still objected to attend unsummoned.

As soon, therefore, as Geoffery returned to Arden, he despatched a servant on horseback with a verbal message, requesting that Doctor Harman and two surgeons would attend prepared to open the body of Sir Willoughby. This succeeded in taking in the honest-hearted Doctor, to whom it did not occur to inquire who had given the message to a servant who was one of Sir Alfred's household.

On the arrival of the medical gentlemen, Geoffery, who was determined that every point unfavourable to his cousin should admit of proof by other witnesses than himself, sent a servant up to Sir Alfred with a message purporting to be from Doctor Harman to say, that if Sir Alfred had no objection, the Doctor was very desirous of being permitted to open the body of the deceased, for the purpose of ascertaining whether or not his view of the case were correct, in supposing that the sudden death of Sir Willoughby had been occasioned by a fit of apoplexy.

Alfred, surprised at the officious impertinence of such an interference to which he had no idea of sacrificing the solemn injunctions of his dying brother, sent back an immediate and positive refusal; on which Geoffery with a face of solemn sorrow, dismissed the medical gentlemen, adding many flourishes and innuendoes, and confessing that he certainly had ventured to send for them himself, in the hope that Sir Alfred might have been induced to permit an examination, for which the circumstances of the case so loudly called. This might be thought officious in him, but his motive was, to combine delicacy with a step he felt it his duty to take.

Alfred had many reasons for his refusal; first, and above all, were his brother's anxious and repeated injunctions, which, except superseded by sad necessity, would of course be laws to him; next, he was, as we have already said, very desirous that the idea of a suicide should not be even suggested; lest it should come to the ears of his mother, and add to her distress: and, finally, he wished, that if the idea were suggested, the fact should not be proved, lest as we have already hinted, Christian rites should be refused. At the same time, feeling himself but too certain, that his poor brother must have put a period to his own existence, he had no anxious doubts to be satisfied by an examination. As to the opinions which might be entertained by others, though the doctor had said at first, that the symptoms resembled those of poison, he had, at the same time allowed, that an apoplectic fit might have caused the sudden death, and been attended with similar symptoms. Alfred naturally thought, therefore, that the family appearing satisfied with this solution, it would become the prevalent opinion, and the melancholy event pass over, as little noticed by the public, as the private sorrows of individuals generally are.

This honourable and exalted mind never once conceived the idea, that any combination of circumstances whatever, could have suggested to any human being such a thought of horror, as that of his having shortened the life of his dear brother; much less did he imagine, that by the part he was now acting, he was actually furnishing a treacherous enemy with a sort of presumptive evidence that such was the fact: so that while every unfortunate coincidence, on which the ignorance of some, and the malignant designs of others, could found an evil report, was being universally disseminated, and discussed. Alfred sat apart, unsuspicious of evil, yielding to his grief, and communicating with none, except to give such orders as were absolutely necessary; while the arts of Geoffery, and the delicacy of friends, prevented any creature's offering him a hint of what was unhappily, by this time, passing in the minds of many. For, not only were all the particulars which the servants had witnessed, already in circulation; but, the circumstances of the marked paper falling from Alfred's bosom, and the missing packet being seen in his escritoire, were also beginning to be pretty generally known, to the great surprise of the poor Doctor, who, as we said, had never breathed a hint on the subject. Yet had his prudence gained him no credit; for Geoffery had not confined his insinuations against the Doctor's talents for taciturnity, to what he had said to his man Davison; but had also complained to several confidential friends, how that meddling, gossiping fellow, Harman, had been saying so and so—giving here each particular, in the form of a quotation. If his auditors chanced to reply, that they had heard nothing of the kind before, Geoffery would express his surprise; assure them that every one else had; lament that such should be the case; and add, how much he had wished, to suppress unpleasant reports; at least, until the whole affair should necessarily become matter of public discussion.

Geoffery having, as we have said, his reasons for being aware that Willoughby had taken poison, was determined, for the furtherance of his diabolical schemes against Alfred, that the body should be opened; and proof thus furnished, of the fact of poison having been swallowed. He took care, therefore, that not only reports, but direct information should reach the coroner, of a nature to render it his duty to demand an investigation of the whole affair.