Free Antidote to Venom by Freeman Wills Crofts Page A

release, and to him—it would mean just everything. This terrible lack of money would cease. The problem of Nancy would be solved. All his problems would be solved. His aunt’s legacy was all that was needed to alter his life from the half heaven, half hell it now was, and to make it wholly heaven.
    But one question was still unanswered: not a vital question exactly, but still a terribly important one.
    â€œThere’s nothing immediate to be—er—anticipated, I suppose?” he asked, striving to give his manner only the proper interest.
    Marr hesitated. “Nothing immediate in the sense of days,” he replied. “But I think we may consider it a question of weeks rather than months.”
    A question of weeks! Then there would be legal delays over the granting of probate: it might be three or four months before the money was paid over—perhaps six months in all. Could he keep going for six months?
    Not as things were up to the present. But now they would be different: he could borrow on his prospects. How he wished he knew the exact sum he might expect! He did not see, however, how he could find it out.
    As it turned out he learnt it almost at once, and in a way he had never expected. A day or two later he received a note from Miss Pentland, asking him to call. He did so on the same day, and, to do him justice, he was really kind and sympathetic in his manner. He obtained his reward—if it could be considered a reward.
    â€œI asked you to come,” his aunt remarked, after he had said his say, “because I wanted to tell you about my affairs. You know that I’m leaving you the bulk of my money—not that it’s very much, I’m afraid. But I thought that as it will be soon now, I should give you an idea of how much I have, so that you shouldn’t count on more than you’ll get, and so be disappointed.”
    George felt horribly ashamed as he heard these words, and tried hard to avoid letting her see the intensity of his interest.
    She had, it appeared, about £12,000 in all. Of this, £1,000 each was to go to three old servants, and the whole of the remainder, less the death duties taxation, would be George’s.
    He sat trying outwardly to take the news calmly, but inwardly he was seething with a thrilled delight. Over eight thousand! Why, it was enormously more than he had expected! Suppose the Government took £600, which he imagined would be about their proportion, that would leave him £8,400, or say, deducting solicitors’ fees and so on, a round figure of £8,000. And the most he had expected was £5,000! Truly his troubles were over.
    He could scarcely refrain from writing the glad tidings to Nancy. However, they had agreed that letters were not safe and he contained himself till the following Wednesday. Then he told her: in general terms only. He had, he said, been a little hard-up and so unable to do all he should have liked for their mutual benefit. Now, he was thankful to say, that bad time was over. He had come in for a legacy and there was money for anything in reason.
    He longed desperately to mention the little cottage of his dreams, with the garden and the roses over the porch, but something in her manner warned him not to risk it. Well, there was no hurry. They were getting on very well as it was. Later perhaps that would come.
    Just one thing remained to be settled to put him in a really satisfactory position. He must get hold of some ready money. He didn’t want to borrow from the bank. Even if he could, he didn’t want any local people to know he was in difficulties. From whom, then, could he borrow?
    Frequently he had seen advertisements in the papers from persons who, it appeared, were anxious to lend money to all and sundry on their “mere note of hand alone.” Now he looked up some of these advertisements. Three with London addresses seemed suitable and he determined to try his luck.
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