know, he's a prophet; and says he's that old Sir Lorne Brandon that shot
himself in his bed-room. Well, he is a rum one; and we used to draw him
out--poor Jack and me. I never laughed so much, I don't think, in the
same time, before or since. But he's as innocent as a child--and you know
them directions in the will is very strong; and they say Jos. Larkin does
not like the captain a bit too well--and he has the will off, every word
of it; and I think, if Captain Lake does not take care, he may get into
trouble; and maybe it would not be amiss if you gave him a hint.'

Tom Wealdon, indeed, was a good-natured fellow: and if he had had his
way, I think the world would have gone smoothly enough with most people.




CHAPTER XLIX.

LARCOM, THE BUTLER, VISITS THE ATTORNEY.


Now I may as well mention here an occurrence which, seeming very
insignificant, has yet a bearing upon the current of this tale, and it is
this. About four days after the receipt of the despatches to which the
conference of Captain Lake and the attorney referred, there came a letter
from the same prolific correspondent, dated 20th March, from Genoa, which
altogether puzzled Mr. Larkin. It commenced thus:--


'Genoa: 20th march.