Suddenly a dreadful suspicion seized his brain. His head bent forward,
his shoulders thrust out, he stumbled towards her.

"Then--well, what then!" he gasped. "Then--you--forgot--"

She realized she had gone too far, saw the storm in his mind.

"No--no--no, I didn't forget you, John. Never--but--"

She got no farther. Suddenly his hands stretched out as if to seize her
shoulders, his face became tortured--he swayed. She caught him. She
lowered him to the floor, and put a hassock under his head. Then she
rang the bell--rang it--and rang again.

When help came, all was too late. John Grier had gone for ever.




CHAPTER XVII

THE READING OF THE WILL

As Tarboe stood in the church alone at the funeral, in a pew behind John
Grier's family, sadness held him. He had known, as no one else knew,
that the business would pass into his own hands. He suddenly felt his
task too big for him, and he looked at Carnac now with sympathy. Carnac
had brains, capacity, could almost take his father's place; he was
tactful, intuitive, alert. Yet Carnac, at present, was out of the
question. He knew the stress of spirit which had turned Carnac from