I sat there and thought and thought till I began to grow quite
disturbed over the whole occurrence: the mysterious midnight visit, the
prophecy of death so shortly to be fulfilled, the solemn oath that I had
taken, and which Vincey had called on me to answer to in another world
than this. Had the man committed suicide? It looked like it. And what
was the quest of which he spoke? The circumstances were uncanny, so
much so that, though I am by no means nervous, or apt to be alarmed
at anything that may seem to cross the bounds of the natural, I grew
afraid, and began to wish I had nothing to do with them. How much more
do I wish it now, over twenty years afterwards!
As I sat and thought, there came a knock at the door, and a letter, in a
big blue envelope, was brought in to me. I saw at a glance that it was
a lawyer's letter, and an instinct told me that it was connected with my
trust. The letter, which I still have, runs thus:--
"Sir,--Our client, the late M. L. Vincey, Esq., who died on the 9th
instant in ---- College, Cambridge, has left behind him a Will, of which
you will please find copy enclosed and of which we are the executors.
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