congratulate me, old man: he has just died and left everything to me.
You know what a splendid library he had--to think that that will all be
mine--and that grand old park through which we've so often wandered, you
and I! Well, we shall need fear no gamekeeper now, and of course, dear
old fellow, you'll come and live with me--like a prince--and just write
your own books and say farewell to journalism for ever. Of course I can
hardly believe it's true yet. It seems too much of a dream, and yet
there's no doubt about it. I had a letter from my solicitors this
morning, saying that they were engaged in going through the securities,
and--and--but the letter's somewhere over there; you might read it. No?
can't you find it? It's there somewhere about, I know. Never mind, you
can see it again....' he finished wearily.

'Yes!' he presently said, half to himself, 'it will be a wonderful
change! a wonderful change!'

* * * * *

At length the time came to say good-bye, a good-bye I knew must be the
last, for my affairs were taking me so far away from him that I could
not hope to see him for some days.

'I'm afraid, old man,' I said, 'that I mayn't be able to see you for
another week.'

'O never mind, old fellow, don't worry about me. I'm much better
now--and by the time you come again we shall know all about the
securities.'

The securities! My heart had seemed like a stone, incapable of feeling,