All this was most extraordinary; and yet even more extraordinary was the conduct and manner of Rayner. He laughed loudly, and then he plunged his face into his handkerchief and sobbed wildly. He shook hands with every one near, and then waved them away with a majestic air. In fact he seemed to have taken leave of his senses; the truth was, that his senses had taken leave of him for a season. And yet the sight of Mr. Burnet's perplexed face sobered him in a measure.
He swaggered up to his master, saying, "Shake hands, Burnet; I'm not too proud for that."
"Listen to me, I'll tell you something. Wonders will never cease. If you had a brother, Burnet, whom you had not seen for thirty-five years, would not your heart yearn towards him? Yes, even a letter from his lawyer would fill your heart with joy."
"No doubt," said Mr. Burnet.
"Here's a letter, come this minute; why, joy is nothing to it. I'm a made man, a rich man, snap my fingers at you all! Do you hear? My brother in New Zealand is dead. What do you say to that?"
"I am very sorry for you," said Mr. Burnet.
"Are you? You are that envious you don't know how to look me in the face! Thirty thousand pounds, Burnet! What do you say to that? Have you got thirty thousand pounds? I snap my fingers at you all!" And he did it.
"My poor brother died six months ago. Ah! sad, sad! Lonely old bachelor! Not a creature to weep for him but me. They have been six months finding out my address; and now I can go to New Zealand and live on my property worth thirty thousand pounds, or, the lawyer writes, the land can be sold and the cash sent over to me. I think I like cash better than land. Shake hands again, Burnet. I've told the men I'll give them a half-holiday, as there's not much doing, and a sovereign apiece, which you will advance to them. I'll give a cheque for it, you know."
Mr. Burnet did not respond.