"That is so; but supposing Douglas is still alive—I only say supposing—now what would be the result?"
Graham shrugged his shoulders, and his visage elongated.
"It's no use apprehending such a dénouement. You are absolutely certain that the body is his, are you not?" he asked.
"I'm positive of it. The curious deformity of the ear I remember quite distinctly."
"Then you will swear before the coroner to-morrow that he is your brother?" he observed, regarding the young man keenly.
"I shall."
"In that case no more need be said. We shall immediately proceed to prove the will, and you will be master of Coombe."
"Indeed," exclaimed Hugh, with a light laugh, as he rose to depart. "I'm in luck's way to-day. A few hours ago I little thought myself so near being a wealthy man."
"No; it must be a very pleasant surprise," the old gentleman said, rising and grasping his new client's hand. "I heartily congratulate you on your good fortune, Mr. Hugh. I shall call upon you at noon to-morrow, and we will attend the inquest together. Your interests will be safe in my hands, so for the present good-bye."
"Good-day, Graham. I'll expect you to-morrow," Hugh replied, and, lighting a cigar, he went out.
