"What do you mean?" The innuendo at the end diverted her wrath at the man's hateful coarseness.
"Mean? Oh, o' course, you're innocent as a lamb! Mean? Why, look here."
He opened the chest again, and, drawing out a scrap of folded foolscap, began to read :—
"I, Ebenezer Transom, of Compton Burrows, in the parish of Compton, yeoman, being of sound wit and health, and willing, though a sinner, to give my account to God, do hereby make my last will and testament."
"My house, lands, and farm of Compton Burrows, together with every stick that I own, I hereby (for her good care of me) give and bequeath to Elizabeth Rundle, my dead sister's child"
—"Let be, I tell you!"
But 'Lizabeth had snatched the paper from him. For a moment the devil in his eye seemed to meditate violence. But he thought better of it; and when she asked for the candle held it beside her as she read on slowly.
" . . . to Elizabeth Rundle, my dead sister's child, desiring that she may marry and bequeath the same to the heirs of her body; less the sum of one shilling sterling, which I command to be sent to my only surviving son William—"
"You needn't go on," growled William.
" . . . because he's a bad lot, and he may so well know I think
so. And to this I set my hand, this 17th day of September, 1856."
"Signed"
"Ebenezer Transom."