Blind Love

"I have left this terrible thing about once too often already," and

Lord Harry took it from the table. "Let me put it in a place of

safety."

He unlocked a drawer and opened it. "I will put it here," he said.

"Why"--as if suddenly recollecting something--"here is my will. I shall

be leaving that about on the table next. Iris, my dear, I have left

everything to you. All will be yours." He took out the document. "Keep

it for me, Iris. It is yours. You may as well have it now, and then I

know, in your careful hands, it will be quite safe. Not only is

everything left to you, but you are the sole executrix."

Iris took the will without a word. She understood, now, what it meant.

If she was the sole executrix she would have to act. If everything was

left to her she would have to receive the money. Thus, at a single

step, she became not only cognisant of the conspiracy, but the chief

agent and instrument to carry it out.

This done, her husband had only to tell her what had to be done at

once, in consequence of her premature arrival. He had planned, he told

her, not to send for her--not to let her know or suspect anything of

the truth until the money had been paid to the widow by the Insurance

Company. As things had turned out, it would be best for both of them to

leave Passy at once--that very evening--before her arrival was known by

anybody, and to let Vimpany carry out the rest of the business. He was

quite to be trusted--he would do everything that was wanted. "Already,"

he said, "the Office will have received from the doctor a notification

of my death. Yesterday evening he wrote to everybody--to my

brother--confound him!--and to the family solicitor. Every moment that

I stay here increases the danger of my being seen and recognised--after

the Office has been informed that I am dead."

"Where are we to go?"

"I have thought of that. There is a little quiet town in Belgium where

no English people ever come at all. We will go there, then we will take

another name; we will be buried to the outer world, and will live, for

the rest of our lives, for ourselves alone. Do you agree?"

"I will do, Harry, whatever you think best."

"It will be for a time only. When all is ready, you will have to step

to the front--the will in your hand to be proved--to receive what is

due to you as the widow of Lord Harry Norland. You will go back to

Belgium, after awhile, so as to disarm suspicion, to become once more

the wife of William Linville."