perfect." All this flashed stunningly across my brain. Suddenly I threw
my hand wildly to my head--the whirl of waters was in my ears; yet I
struggled against the surging tide, and Claude Bainrothe's grasp upon my
hand strengthened and revived me. I was roused from my apathy by hearing
Mr. Gerald Stanbury's loud, sonorous voice speaking out clearly: "I
decline to serve, Mr. Bainrothe, after that erasure. You understand
that, of course. It was a farce to send for me to-day, tinder these
circumstances."

"How could I know, my dear sir, that this erasure had been made?" was
the soft and specious rejoinder. "It must have been done in the last few
months. This will was drawn up in August last. I was ignorant of the
whole subsequent proceeding, and at that time Mr. Monfort laid peculiar
stress on your coincidence as executor. Has any thing occurred since
that time to mar your good understanding?"

"Nothing of any consequence," said Mr. Stanbury, coldly--"nothing
bearing on the esteem of man for man. Nevertheless, Mr. Monfort, as we
all know, was a man easy to offend and difficult to appease, and I
suppose" (he swallowed hard as he spoke) "he weighed old friendship and
some good offices as nothing against his wounded self-love, and against
the flatterers who beset him with their snares."

"Sir, you intend to be insulting, no doubt," Mr. Bainrothe observed,
with a semblance of calm dignity; "but it is not on such an occasion as
this, and in the disinterested discharge of my duty, that I will suffer
myself to be ruffled by the bitter injustice of an irritable and
disappointed old man."

"Be guarded, Mr. Bainrothe," Mr. Stanbury rejoined, "in your expressions