"I wish they were," said Hugh fervently, "Give me a recipe to get rid of them, and I'll try the experiment at all hazards."
"You have no need, my dear sir, — no need whatever."
"No need!" repeated the younger man in astonishment, for the words seemed like an insinuation that he knew the secret means by which he intended to evade his difficulties. "Why, what do you mean?" he asked seriously. "I tell you, it is pay or smash with me."
"I regret to hear that, but you will adopt the former course," Graham replied mysteriously.
Hugh laughed sarcastically.
"That's very likely, when I have no money. But, look here, what do you want with me?"
"To impart some news."
"News!" exclaimed Trethowen, suddenly interested. "Good or bad?"
"Both."
"What is it? Tell me quickly," he demanded, with an impatient gesture.
"Simply this. I wish to congratulate you upon your inheritance."
"What inheritance?"
"Well, the information it is my pleasure to communicate will undoubtedly cause you mingled pain and satisfaction. Briefly, your brother, Douglas Trethowen, is dead, and"—
"What!" cried Hugh, starting to his feet in amazement. "You're humbugging me!"
"I repeat, your brother is dead," resumed the old solicitor calmly, looking intently into the face of the man before him. "In consequence of that event you inherit the whole of the estate."
"Good heavens, is this true, Graham?" he asked breathlessly.
