Dick Causton trudged back to his cabin in no tranquil frame of mind. He had his own excellent reasons for believing that a more disappointed and angry man than Doctor Remy, at that moment, was not to be found under the sun. Not only had he lost the coveted Bergan estate, but he had been fooled and cheated by the very man whom he had taken to be his most willing and despicable tool. Nor would it be long, Dick foresaw, before the doctor would seek to mitigate the bitterness of his chagrin with whatever sweetness was to be derived from the thought and purpose of revenge. In that case, he would be the first point of attack. What a fool he had been to meddle or make with any of the doctor\'s affairs! As if he did not know at least a dozen different proverbs in as many languages, to the effect that prudence was better than repentance, safety preferable to sorrow! Of what use was it to have his head stuffed with the consummate wisdom of all nations, if he only acted like a consummate idiot!

A pertinent question, Richard Causton! Showing the good results, too, of your period of forced abstinence from strong drink, and your lonely watch over the sick-bed—wellnigh the death-bed—of Bergan Arling. Up to this point, we have deemed your case hopeless; now, truly, we think better of it. To recognize one\'s folly is the first step toward breaking from its bondage. To have learned that the fruits of righteousness do not ripen on the tree of worldly wisdom, is, perhaps, to feel the first faint hunger for the saving fruitage of the tree of life. There may be the making of a man—a contrite, humbled, subdued, scarred, but free man—in you yet!

Ignoring, or unconscious of, these grounds of hope for the future, however, Dick continued to busy himself with his fears for the present. Nor did they prove to be causeless; he was not yet in sight of his door, when he heard the sound of impatient knocking thereat. Stealing to a point where he could see without being seen, his worst fears were realized,—the unwelcome visitor was Doctor Remy.

"De puerta cerrada el diablo se torna,—From a locked door, the devil turns away," he muttered, settling himself in his hiding place, with the intention of remaining there until the anticipated departure.

But the doctor was not to be thus balked. After repeated knockings, with short intervals of waiting, he finally drew back from the door with the evident intention of bursting it in; whereupon Dick hastened to make his appearance, doing his best to assume an air of easy nonchalance.

"He who brings good news, knocks hard," he called out, by way of arresting the doctor\'s attention, and saving the door. "Or, as the Germans say, He who brings, is welcome; I suppose you have come to settle our little account."

"Yes, I have come to settle accounts with you," replied Doctor Remy, with grim irony. "Why didn\'t you tell me about this other will?"

"What other will?" asked Dick, innocently.

"I am in no humor for trifling," returned Doctor Remy;—"Major Bergan\'s will, that you witnessed a fortnight ago."

"C\'est la glose d\' Orleans,—that is to say, the commentary is more obscure than the text," answered Dick, shaking his head, as if he could make nothing of it.

"Don\'t try my patience too far," rejoined the doctor, menacingly. "I have just seen Mr. Tatum, and he told me of the will, and named you as one of the witnesses."

"Did he?" asked Dick, shrugging his shoulders. "Then I must be like \'el escudero de Guadalaxara, que de lo que dice de noche, no hay nada a la ma?ana.\' Do you understand Spanish?"

"Do you understand English?" growled Doctor Remy. "I asked you if you had witnessed a will; and I want to know what was in it."

"And I gave you to understand that if I had, it must have been when I was too drunk to remember anything about it," responded Dick.

Doctor Remy\'s eyes flashed ominously. "I shall find a way to refresh your memory," said he. "One question more, and I warn you that you had better give me a straightforward answer, and not try to put me off with a proverb;—what was done with the will after it was made?"

"Why, hasn\'t it been found?" asked Dick, with surprise that was plainly genuine.

"No, it has not," replied Doctor Remy, curtly. "See here, Dick," he added, after a pause, quitting his threatening tone for one of persuasion; "I\'ll make it well worth your while to tell me all you know about that will. Open the door—I\'m tired of standing—and we\'ll go in and talk it over."

"I—I—it\'s pleasanter outside," stammered Dick, fairly driven to his wit\'s end by this proposal. "Besides, \'walls have ears;\' no place like the open air for your business—and mine."

"Your walls should be deaf," answered the doctor, looking at him suspiciously; "you live alone, do you not?"

"Yes, certainly; but no walls are to be trusted; mèfiance est mére de s?retè."

"Very true," replied Doctor Remy; "and I distrust you. Open that door at once, and let me see what or whom it is, that you are so anxious to conceal."

Dick\'s consternation was extreme. Still, he did what he could to gain time; assistance might be on the road. He began to fumble in his pockets. "Very happy to oblige you, I\'m sure," he faltered, with a poor assumption of graciousness. "But, \'He that will be served must be patient.\' I declare! I believe I\'ve lost that key! Still, Mais val perder, que mais perd—............