My uncle's gaze began to wander, as though anticipating that meeting; but he roused himself and said—
"Kiss me, Tom, and send Jasper to me."
Bitterly weeping, Tom made room, and I bent over the bed.
"Ah, Jasper, it is you. Kiss me, boy. I have been telling Tom that you must share alike. God has been stern with you, Jasper, to His own good ends—His own good ends. Only be patient, it will come right at the last. How dark it is getting; pull up the blind."
"The blind is up, uncle."
"Ah, yes, I forgot. I have often thought—do you remember that day— reading your father's paper—and the key?"
"Yes, uncle."
"I have often thought—about that key—which you flung into the fire—and I picked out—your father Ezekiel's key—keep it. Closer, Jasper, closer—"
I bent down until my ear almost touched his lips.
"I have—often—thought—we were wrong that night—and perhaps— meant—search—in …"