manager tells me that, of late, they had noticed a slight change in the
character of Jeffrey's signature--I think you will see the reason of the
change when you hear the rest of his story. It was very trifling; not
more than commonly occurs when a man begins to grow old, especially if
there is some failure of eyesight."

"Was Mr. Jeffrey's eyesight failing?" asked Thorndyke.

"Yes, it was, undoubtedly," said Stephen. "He was practically blind in
one eye and, in the very last letter that I ever had from him, he
mentioned that there were signs of commencing cataract in the other."

"You spoke of his pension. He continued to draw that regularly?"

"Yes; he drew his allowance every month, or rather, his bankers drew it
for him. They had been accustomed to do so when he was abroad, and the
authorities seem to have allowed the practice to continue."

Thorndyke reflected a while, running his eye over the notes on the slips
of paper in his hand, and Marchmont surveyed him with a malicious smile.
Presently the latter remarked:

"Methinks the learned counsel is floored."

Thorndyke laughed. "It seems to me," he retorted, "that your proceedings
are rather like those of the amiable individual who offered the bear a
flint pebble, that he might crack it and extract the kernel. Your
confounded will seems to offer no soft spot on which one could commence
an attack. But we won't give up. We seem to have sucked the will dry.
Let us now have a few facts respecting the parties concerned in it; and,