“Well, that’s what we all asked ourselves, Sir; but at any rate, whether he had or not, they didn’t turn up—that is, not in time. There was a young man here when it was too late.”
“A young man?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Was he a relative?”
“Oh no, Sir, only a lawyer’s clerk; wanted to see about business I dare say. Perhaps to collect a bill. Let me see; the lawyer who sent him was named Thornton.”
“Thornton!” said Brandon, as the name sank into his soul.
“Yes; he lived at Holby.”
Brandon drew a long breath.
“No, Sir; no friends came, whether he had any or not. They were all sick at the alms-house for weeks.”
“And I suppose they all died there?” said Brandon, in a strange, sweet voice.