We set forth at a leisurely pace along the broad pavement and I commenced my narration.  As well as I could remember, I related the circumstances that had led up to the present disposition of the property and then proceeded to the actual provisions of the will; to all of which my two friends listened with rapt interest, Thorndyke occasionally stopping me to jot down a memorandum in his pocket-book.

“Why, the fellow must have been a stark lunatic!” Jervis exclaimed, when I had finished.  “He seems to have laid himself out with the most devilish ingenuity to defeat his own ends.”

“That is not an uncommon peculiarity with testators,” Thorndyke remarked.  “A direct and perfectly intelligible will is rather the exception.  But we can hardly judge until we have seen the actual document.  I suppose Bellingham hasn’t a copy?”

“I don’t know,” said I; “but I will ask him.”

“If he has one, I should like to look through it,” said Thorndyke.  “The provisions are very peculiar, and, as Jervis says, admirably calculated to defeat the testator’s wishes if they have been correctly reported.  And, apart from that, they have a remarkable bearing on the circumstances of the disappearance.  I daresay you noticed that.”

“I noticed that it is very much to Hurst’s advantage that the body has not been found.”

“Yes, of course.  But there are some other points that are very significant.  However, it would be premature to discuss the terms of the will until we have seen the actual document or a certified copy.”

“If there is a copy extant,” I said, “I will try to get hold of it.  Bellingham is terribly afraid of being suspected of a desire to get professional advice gratis.”

“That,” said Thorndyke, “is natural enough, and not discreditable.  But you must overcome his scruples somehow.  I expect you will be able to.  You are a plausible young gentleman, as I remember of old, and you seem to have established yourself as quite the friend of the family.”

“They are rather interesting people,” I explained; “very cultivated and with a strong leaning towards archaeology.  It seems to be in the blood.”

“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “a family tendency, probably due to contact and common surroundings rather than heredity.  So you like Godfrey Bellingham?”

“Yes.  He is a trifle peppery and impulsive, but quite an agreeable, genial old buffer.”

“And the daughter,” said Jervis, “what is she like?”

“Oh, she is a learned lady; works up bibliographies and references at the Museum.”

“Ah!” Jervis exclaimed, with deep disfavour, “I know the breed.  Inky fingers; no chest to speak of; all side and spectacles.”

I rose artlessly at the gross and palpable bait.

“You’re quite wrong,” I exclaimed indignantly, contrasting Jervis’s hideous presentment with the comely original.  “She is an exceedingly good-looking girl, and her manners all that a lady’s should be.  A little stiff, perhaps, but then I am only an acquaintance—­almost a stranger.”