CHAPTER III
A great change had now taken place in the patient's condition. Convulsive movements of a violent kind had set in. Old McKeel was alarmed. David was cynical, and doubted the symptoms.
"Brandy," said Lanky, in a whisper.
He gulped a tumblerful down, smacked his lips, and stared around.
"Where am I?" he said; "oh! I see."
"That's a guid sign!" said old McKeel. "The ammonia's workin'."
"Mr. McKeel," said Lanky very feebly, "I'm goin' to die, an' I want to make my will."
"Vera weel; I'm a magistrate, an' I'll attest it. Ma wife an' son will be witnesses."
Mrs. McKeel, with tears in her eyes, placed pens, ink, and paper on the table. The old man seated himself, and adjusted his spectacles. He looked over them and said, "What d'ye want me to say?"
"I leave everything I have to Annie Coonie."
"My!" said Annie, in a whisper.
McKeel scribbled away as fast as he could, shedding ink all around him. After writing for a few minutes he turned to his son and said, "Give him mair brandy, and don't let him sleep."
"Can ye gi' me some parteeclars o' what ye want to leave Annie Coonie?" McKeel said to Lanky.
"Yes; £500 in the Savings Bank, £750 in the Union Bank, and £1000 in the Bank of Australasia."
"Gosh!" ejaculated McKeel.
"O my!" said Annie, as she threw her apron over her head.
"Ony other parteeclars?"
"Yes, six hundred and forty acres of land."
"The man's cracked!" muttered McKeel to himself. "It's the ammonia makin' his heed licht. They a' get crazy on land."
"Ony other parteeclars?"
"Yes, two houses in Melbourne."
"Ony other?" said McKeel, looking dubiously at Lanky.
"Yes, £15,000 left me by my Uncle Tom."
McKeel looked up in astonishment. Seeing Annie at the door he could not help saying, "I congratulate you, Annie."
"Is Annie here?" whispered the patient.
"Step forrit, Annie," said McKeel.
Lanky took her hand. She was crying.
"Don't cry for me," he said; "only say you love me. It will be a great consolation to me. You see how I love you."
"Oh yes," she sobbed; "I hope you will not die. You'll soon be better."
"Never! but I die happy with your hand in mine."
At this moment Mrs. Coonie, Annie's mother, came in. She was a little woman, with a clay-coloured face, and dressed in the same hue.
She took possession of the case at once with a business-like air.
"Plenty of brandy," she said; "then march him up and down. If he is allowed to sleep, he is a dead man. Black snake, or tiger?"
"Tiger," whispered Lanky.
"Then there's no hope," she said, turning to McKeel; "he'll die when the moon goes down. That's the time they die when bitten by a tiger-snake. At the sea it's when the tide goes out."
"Then there's nae time to lose," said the old man; "I'll read the will in the hearin' o' ye a'. Attend to what I say, Lanky."
"I'm listenin'," he whispered.
McKeel pulled the lamp nearer, adjusted his spectacles, and read as follows:—
"This is the last Will and Testament of me, Timothy Wilber, at present residing at Woorong Station in the Colony of Victoria. I hereby revoke all Wills by me at any time heretofore made. I appoint——"
"Timothy Wilber, who do you appoint your executor?" said the old man.
"I appoint you, Mr. McKeel."
McKeel wrote his own name, and continued to read:—
"I appoint Dugald McKeel, of Woorong Station, in the Colony of Victoria aforesaid, to be my Executor; and direct that all my just debts and funeral and testamentary expenses shall be paid as soon as conveniently may be after my decease. I give, devise, and bequeath unto Annie Coonie, Spinster: £500 in the Savings Bank, £750 in the Union Bank, £1000 in the Bank of Australasia, 640 acres of land——"
"What parish?" said McKeel.
"Parish of Ayre."
"Parish of Air," wrote McKeel.
"Parish of Air, two houses in Melbourne, also £15,000 left to me by my Uncle Thomas. In witness whereof, I, the said Timothy Wilber, have, to this, my last Will and Testament, set my name, this fifteenth day of November, one thousand eight hundred and sixty-six."
Then came the attestation clause. Lanky signed the Will with much effort. The two witnesses signed, and the document was complete.
When Mrs. Coonie heard in the reading of the will that her daughter was left a legacy of £500 she clucked her tongue in astonishment. The next item of £750 made her start. The £1000 one caused her face to glow like fire, and her eye to sparkle like a diamond.
"You are a rich woman, Annie," she said, nudging the girl; "but where in thunder did he get the money?"
"I don't believe a word he says," Annie replied.
"Do you think," said her mother indignantly, "that a man standing at Death's door is going to stagger in with a pack of lies on his back?"
When McKeel read about the six hundred and forty acres of land, Mrs. Coonie jumped up, and looked over his shoulder to make quite sure the words were written down. When he came to the £15,000 she rushed out, and danced a jig on the verandah to relieve her feelings. When she was sufficiently calm she went back to the room. The will was now signed.
"There is only one thing to be done," said Lanky very feebly and with great difficulty. "I want Annie to say she loves me."
"Oh no, no!" she said, bursting into a fit of crying.
"Say it to please him!" said her mother. "Don't you see he's dying?"
Before Annie knew what she was doing she said, "I am sorry for you, and love you."
"More brandy," said Lanky; "I feel the poison working."
"Poor fellow! poor fellow!" said Mrs. Coonie, rubbing her eyes.
"It does me good to hear that Annie loves me. I want her to say if I live she will marry me."
Her mother touched her, and said, "Say yes, you little fool! Don't you see he's going out with the moon?"
"Yes," said Annie, in a hysterical fit of weeping, adding under her breath, "Oh, Alec! it's for your sake."
Lanky fell back, and shut his eyes, muttering, "That's all right."
They stood round him, watching and waiting. McKeel was confident his patient would pull through, for he was sure he got a full dose of ammonia.