“'Not, surely, after seventeen others!' exclaimed the astonished attorney.
“'Even so,—a chance is better than nothing.'
“'What's that he's saying?' interposed the old man, who sat reading his newspaper at the fire. The matter was soon explained by the attorney, and when he finished, Cashel added: 'That's just it; and I'm to sail for the Cape on the 4th of next month, and if you 'll put me down among the rest of the fellows, I 'll send you the best pipe of Constantia you ever tasted, as sure as my name is Godfrey Cashel.'
“The old man threw his spectacles up on his forehead, wiped his eyes, and then, replacing his glasses, took a deliberate survey of the poor lieutenant who had proposed such a very 'soft' bargain. 'Eh! Clinchet,' said he to the attorney, 'can we do this for him?'
“'Nothing easier, sir; let the gentleman come in last, as residuary legatee, and it alters nothing.'
“'I suppose you count on your good luck,' said old Browne, grinning.
“'Oh, then, it's not from my great experience that way.' said Cashel. 'I 've been on the “Duke's list” for promotion seventeen years already, and, for all I see, not a bit nearer than the first day; but there's no reason my poor boy should be such an unfortunate devil. Who knows but fortune may make amends to him one of these days? Come, sir, is it a bargain?'
“'To be sure. I 'm quite willing; only don't forget the Constantia. It's a wine I like a glass of very well indeed, after my dinner.'
“The remainder is easily told; the lieutenant sailed for the Cape, and kept his word, even though it cost him a debt that mortgaged his commission. Old Browne gave a great dinner when the wine arrived, and the very first name on the list of legatees, his nephew, caught a fever on his way home from it, and died in three weeks.
“Kennyfeck could tell us, if he were here, what became of each of them in succession; four were lost, out yachting, at once; but, singular as it may seem, in nineteen years from the day of that will, every life lapsed, and, stranger still, without heirs; and the fortune has now descended to poor Godfrey Cashel's boy, the lieutenant himself having died in the West Indies, where he exchanged into a native regiment. That is the whole story; and probably in a romance one would say that the thing was exaggerated, so much more strange is truth than fiction.”