"Signed, sealed, and delivered, this third day of November, eighteen
hundred and forty-seven, by Noel Vanstone, the within-named testator, as
and for his last Will and Testament, in the presence of us--"
"Is that all?" asked Noel Vanstone, in astonishment.
"That is enough, sir, to bequeath your fortune to the admiral; and
therefore that is all. Now let us go back to the case which we have
supposed already. Your widow pays her shilling, and sees this will.
There is the Combe-Raven money left to Admiral Bartram, with a
declaration in plain words that it is his, to use as he likes. When she
sees this, what does she do? She sets her trap for the admiral. He is a
bachelor, and he is an old man. Who is to protect him against the arts
of this desperate woman? Protect him yourself, sir, with a few more
strokes of that pen which has done such wonders already. You have left
him this legacy in your will--which your wife sees. Take the legacy away
again, in a letter--which is a dead secret between the admiral and
you. Put the will and the letter under one cover, and place them in the
admiral's possession, with your written directions to him to break the
seal on the day of your death.
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