“Dead!” said I; “and the other witness, George Davis?”
“Is one of Sir William’s tenants, and is below, Sir, in waiting.”
“Let him come up,” and a middle-sized, stout man, with a blunt, bold, open countenance, was admitted.
“Did you witness this will?” said I.
“I did, your honour!”
“And this is your handwriting?” pointing to the scarcely legible scrawl.
“Yees, your honour,” said the man, scratching his head, “I think it be; they are my ees, and G, and D, sure enough.”
“And do you know the purport of the will you signed?”
“Anan!”
“I mean, do you know to whom Sir William—stop, Mr. Oswald, suffer the man to answer me—to whom Sir William left his property?”