The old man's face suddenly paled, and Miriam put more brandy to his lips. After a moment he pointed to a bunch of keys lying on the table beside him, and then to an ancient bureau which stood in a dark corner of the living-room. "It's i' th' top drawer th' will," he whispered. "Get it out, my lass, and lay the writing things o' th' table doctor and James Bream'll witness it, an' then all will be in order. 'Cause, you see, somed'y might chance-along as knew the secret, an' would let out that Michael were born before we were wed, an' then "
Sick and cold with the surprise and horror of this news, Miriam took the keys and went over to the old bureau. There, in the top drawer, lay a sheet of parchment she knew little of law matters, but she saw that this had been written by a practised hand. She set it out on the table with pen and ink and blotting-paper in silence.
"A lawyer chap in London town, as axed no questions, drew that there," murmured Tobias. "Wants naught but signing and witnessing and the date putting in. Why doesn't doctor come, and Jim Bream on the owd pony? Go to th' house door, lass, and see if ye can see 'em coming."
Miriam went out into the stone-paved porch, and, shading her aching eyes, looked across the garden. Eliza Kate had arrived with the baby, and sat nursing it beneath the lilac-trees. It caught sight of its mother, and stretched its arms and lifted its voice to her. Miriam gave no heed to it her heart was heavy as the grey stones she stood on.