"I have left this terrible thing about once too often already," and
Lord Harry took it from the table. "Let me put it in a place of
safety."
He unlocked a drawer and opened it. "I will put it here," he said.
"Why"--as if suddenly recollecting something--"here is my will. I shall
be leaving that about on the table next. Iris, my dear, I have left
everything to you. All will be yours." He took out the document. "Keep
it for me, Iris. It is yours. You may as well have it now, and then I
know, in your careful hands, it will be quite safe. Not only is
everything left to you, but you are the sole executrix."
Iris took the will without a word. She understood, now, what it meant.
If she was the sole executrix she would have to act. If everything was
left to her she would have to receive the money. Thus, at a single
step, she became not only cognisant of the conspiracy, but the chief
agent and instrument to carry it out.
This done, her husband had only to tell her what had to be done at
once, in consequence of her premature arrival. He had planned, he told
her, not to send for her--not to let her know or suspect anything of
the truth until the money had been paid to the widow by the Insurance
Company. As things had turned out, it would be best for both of them to
leave Passy at once--that very evening--before her arrival was known by
anybody, and to let Vimpany carry out the rest of the business. He was
quite to be trusted--he would do everything that was wanted. "Already,"
he said, "the Office will have received from the doctor a notification
of my death. Yesterday evening he wrote to everybody--to my
brother--confound him!--and to the family solicitor. Every moment that
I stay here increases the danger of my being seen and recognised--after
the Office has been informed that I am dead."
"Where are we to go?"
"I have thought of that. There is a little quiet town in Belgium where
no English people ever come at all. We will go there, then we will take
another name; we will be buried to the outer world, and will live, for
the rest of our lives, for ourselves alone. Do you agree?"
"I will do, Harry, whatever you think best."
"It will be for a time only. When all is ready, you will have to step
to the front--the will in your hand to be proved--to receive what is
due to you as the widow of Lord Harry Norland. You will go back to
Belgium, after awhile, so as to disarm suspicion, to become once more
the wife of William Linville."