The day after the funeral all parties concerned, except Markham, took their departure from Brigland. The Earl’s presence was absolutely necessary at Trimmerstone to inspect and direct the repairs at the hall. He took leave of Markham with much stronger expressions of regard than he had ever used before; for he now perceived, or thought that he had discovered, that the barrister had not been using the arts of a legacy-hunter. Never indeed had his lordship seen any such conduct on the part of Markham as might lead him to conclude unfavorably concerning him; but his lordship had taken up the common-place notion, that because the profession of law requires acuteness, therefore its professors must be sharpers.

Signora Rivolta trusted to Markham to manage that part of the business which related to her family, and at the entreaty of the Colonel returned directly to London. For it was the constant practice of the Colonel’s lady to yield ready obedience to her husband’s requests, knowing that the surest and most effectual mode of governing a blockhead is to let him have his own way as much as possible.

Markham and Mr. Price then met, for the purpose of transacting business, at the office of the latter. It has been already hinted that Markham had a suspicion of the foul play of the confidential solicitor. With this suspicion on his mind he therefore resolved to watch him very narrowly, and to take especial care that now the last will was made, it should be faithfully and properly executed. When Markham entered the apartment destined to be the scene of their first consultation, he could hardly believe it possible that so plausible, plain-speaking a man as Mr. Price could be by any means a dishonest man, or a man of indirect practices. There was a recollection on the mind of the barrister of some slight emotion expressed by Mr. Price at the reading of the will, and also at the previous annunciation of its existence by Mr. Denver. But these emotions might spring from other sources than that of disappointed covetousness; and as Markham had not any idea of the necessities and perplexities of the solicitor, he thought that the legacy named in Mr. Martindale’s will was a very ample and satisfactory bequest. He did not however lay aside his suspicions, or relax in his vigilance of observation.

It was very natural that two persons who had both been intimate acquaintances of the deceased, and who had scarcely ever met before, should at a meeting of this nature first enter into a little talk concerning their departed friend. Mr. Price commenced by saying,

“This is a great loss, Mr. Markham. Our friend Mr. Martindale will be very much missed. The people here at Brigland were very much grieved when housekeeping was given up at the Abbey. The poor will have long cause to regret their benefactor.”

“I believe,” replied Markham, “that Mr. Martindale was a truly benevolent man, and will be no doubt much missed. My acquaintance with him has been comparatively short; but I had the highest opinion of his heart and understanding.”

“It is very strange,” said Mr. Price, “that he should have chosen that very singular mode of life. He had the means of living in much better style than he did. Though I must say that the Abbey was too magnificent a building even for his property.”

“Are you aware, Mr. Price, of the real value of the late Mr. Martindale’s property?”

To this question Mr. Price did not give a very speedy reply, but muttered rather indistinctly, and said in a very slip-shod tone of voice, “Why, I can’t say exactly, for it consists of various parts; some in land, some on mortgage, and some in the funds; and the price of land is now considerably less than it was some years ago. I really cannot venture to say; but, however, we shall probably ascertain that in the course of our executorship. I suppose you intend to accept the charge… but I fear you will find it a troublesome task. I have myself had so much to do with executorships, that I could almost find in my heart to decline it in the present instance; but I have too great a respect for the memory of my departed client.”

There was something in the tone of this last speech, which led Markham to apprehend that there might be some truth in the tale that he had heard from Sir Andrew Featherstone. Without therefore betraying his suspicions, he replied carelessly,

“Yes, I think I may as well act with you, for perhaps I may be the means of saving you some trouble. I also feel a great respect for the memory of Mr. Martindale, though my acquaintance has been but short.”

“Certainly, certainly,” continued Mr. Price, “every body who knew Mr. Martindale must respect him. He was a man of very great kindness of heart, and of real benevolence of disposition.”

The confidential solicitor then hesitated and almost smiled, and put on one of those silly looks which people assume when they are about to ask what may perhaps be denied them. At last he said,

“I suppose it will be desirable to settle the business with the legatees as soon as possible. I always prefer despatch in matters of this kind. I think it does not look well to protract this sort of business.”

“Of course it does not,” replied Markham, “and I shall be most happy to afford you all the assistance in my power for the furtherance of your plans of despatch.”

“Sir, I thank you,” was Mr. Price’s answer; but his manner still manifested that something more remained to be said. Markham perceived it, but most provokingly abstained from saying any thing which might tend to assist the confidential solicitor in the unfolding of his ideas, or the development of his schemes.

After a little more hesitation, Mr. Price proceeded: “There will perhaps be some little trouble and delay in arranging all the affairs; and I am afraid, Mr. Markham, that your legacy will be paid last.”

“Very likely,” replied Markham, “that is as it should be; indeed I had no reason to expect any legacy at all.”

“I think,” continued Mr. Price, “that you will find your legacy rather larger than you are now aware of; and notwithstanding all that was said by Mr. Denver, I should have no objection to change legacies with you.”

“Indeed, Mr. Price! Why surely you do not mean to say that my legacy is worth as much as twenty thousand pounds?”

Mr. Price looked very knowing and important, and said, “Now, Mr. Markham, I will deal candidly with you; I know that your share will amount to more than twenty thousand. If therefore you wish to get rid of all trouble, and quietly receive a handsome commutation, I can venture to say that I will give you thirty thousand pounds for your legacy, and I will take all the trouble of the business on my own hands.”

How far Markham was truly honest and conscientiously veracious in professing to be surprised at this development, we will leave casuists to determine. In order, however, to ascertain, as readily and distinctly as he could, the truth of the story told by Sir Andrew, he professed great astonishment, but declined the proffered commutation, saying with a smile,

“No, no, Mr. Price, I shall not let you off so easily as that; I must have a more tempting offer. You have said that you cannot exactly tell how much our late friend’s property amounts to: now, unless you had reason to suppose you should make a very good bargain indeed, you would not proffer so large a sum on a contingency. Come now, confess, do you not think that my legacy is really worth a great deal more than thirty thousand pounds? You may not know the precise amount of Mr. Martindale’s property, but you cannot have had the management of it so many years without being able to form a tolerably correct judgment of it. You must know the value of his mortgages, and the amount of his funded property.”

Then looking more seriously, Markham went on: “Now tell me honestly, Mr. Price, is not the legacy in question really worth as much as one hundred thousand pounds? I know it is,” continued the barrister, conscious from the solicitor’s manner that Sir Andrew Featherstone’s story was not without foundation.

It then became necessary for Mr. Price to change his tone, and to look serious. “I will tell you honestly,” said he, “that your legacy is worth nearer two than one hundred thousand pounds.”

“But how is it that Mr. Martindale should have assigned to you the sum of twenty thousand pounds, as being more beneficial to you than this enormous residue? Was our friend so ignorant of the extent of his property as to make so great a mistake as this?”

Mr. Price was confounded: he was fairly detected; and very unpleasant indeed was it for him to stand thus convicted before another man of the law. The confidential solicitor was silenced for a moment or two; and when he recovered the power of speech, he did not so soon recover the power of clearly expressing himself; and if he had said, as twenty thousand Irishmen have been twenty thousand times accused of saying, “I am speechless,” he would not have been far from the truth.

A very fine opportunity was now presented to Markham of making a fine set speech, full of indignation and metaphors, after the manner of a sermon, or the last speech of the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth acts of a new comedy; but for many reasons he abstained. In the first place he was not partial to spouting, nor very dexterous in the management, or fertile in the invention of metaphors. In the second place, he knew that it would do no good, but rather harm; for if the heart of Mr. Price was not absolutely callous, the very fact of detection and disappointment would be quite sufficient to make him feel, and to urge him to repent, if he were capable of penitence. All prating and prosing upon the subject would only have diverted his thoughts from the meanness of his own conduct to the quizzicality of the spouter. Markham merely said,

“Do you call that conduct honest, Mr. Price?”

The confidential solicitor turned away his face; but whether it were to conceal a rising blush or a falling tear, we cannot say: if however it were so, we think it a great pity that he should have concealed so great a curiosity as a blush or a tear on the cheek of an attorney.

Markham then said, “Well, sir, as matters now stand, it is impossible for me to avail myself of this error. I must inform Mr. Martindale’s relatives of the mistake, for it clearly is a mistake. This instrument does not express my late friend’s will.”

“But surely,” interrupted Mr. Price, “you will not think of exposing and betraying me?”

“I shall certainly not accuse you, sir; but if facts expose you, you have only yourself to thank for the exposure.”

Mr. Price was angry, as most people are when they are mortified; and he said, “Well, Mr. Markham, you must do as you please, but I think you excessively scrupulous.”

“Better so,” replied the barrister, “than the reverse.”

That reply was displeasing to the solicitor, and he rejoined, “Why, now, you cannot suppose that either Lord Trimmerstone or Signora Rivolta will take the property, if you offer it to them; and then the conclusion of the matter will be, that you will merely make a show of magnanimous integrity and disinterestedness, and come into a handsome fortune; so you will get rich at my expense, and your character will be raised by the depression of mine. Such conduct is mean and trumpery.”

“Let me request of you, sir,” replied Markham, “to confine your remarks within the bounds of temperance and good breeding, or you may tempt me to use the opportunity which you afford me of making such replies as may not be most agreeable to you. I cannot and will not take advantage of what I consider to be another’s wrong.”

Before Markham left Mr. Price, he was careful to take immediate steps towards putting the business in a proper train, to have the matter settled as soon as possible. The barrister then called on Mr. Denver to thank him for his attentions to the deceased. Scarcely was Markham seated when a note was brought to him from Mr. Price; in which note that gentleman expressed a wish to decline acting as executor. The note also intimated, with many circuitous, but intelligible phrases, that it would be exceedingly agreeable to have his legacy paid as soon as possible; and offers were made of all necessary assistance on the part of the late confidential attorney.

To make short work of Mr. Price, we may as well here inform our readers, that in a short time his legacy was paid to him, and the town of Brigland had a vacancy for a new solicitor.