“All right; dead you know. That’s why he don’t like to tell you about them.”
“Well, now, Sir John, could you tell me what you know about this young man, since you think he must be the same one?”
“I know he must be, and I’ll tell you all about him and the whole cursed lot. In the first place,” continued Potts, clearing his throat, “old Brandon was one of the cursedest old fools that ever lived. He was very well off but wanted to get richer, and so he speculated in a tin mine in Cornwall. I was acquainted with him at the time and used to respect him. He persuaded me—I was always off-handed about money, and a careless, easy fellow—he persuaded me to invest in it also. I did so, but at the end of a few years I found out that the tin mine was a rotten concern, and sold out. I sold at a very high price, for people believed it was a splendid property. After this I found another mine and made money hand over fist. I warned old Brandon, and so did every body, but he didn’t care a fig for what we said, and finally, one fine morning, he waked up and found himself ruined.
“He was more utterly ruined than any man I ever knew of, and all his estates were sold. I had made some money, few others in the county had any ready cash, the sale was forced, and I bought the whole establishment at a remarkably low figure. I got old Brandy—Brandy was a nickname I gave the old fellow—I got him a house in the village, and supported him for a while with his wife and daughter and his great lubberly boy. I soon found out what vipers they were. They all turned against their benefactor, and dared to say that I had ruined their father. In fact, my only fault was buying the place, and that was an advantage to old Brandy rather than an injury. It shows, though, what human nature is.
“They all got sick at last, and as they had no one to nurse them, I very considerately sent them all to the alms-house, where they had good beds, good attendance, and plenty to eat and drink. No matter what I did for them they abused me. They reviled me, for sending them to a comfortable home, and old Brandy was the worst of all. I used to go and visit him two or three times a day, and he always cursed me. Old Brandy did get awfully profane, that’s a fact. The reason was his infernal pride. Look at me, now! I’m not proud. Put me in the alms-house, and would I curse you? I hope not.
“At last old Brandy died, and of course I had to look out for the family. They seemed thrown on my hands, you know, and I was too good-natured to let them suffer, although they treated me so abominably. The best thing I could think of was to ship them all off to America, where they could all get rich. So I took them to Liverpool.”
“Did they want to go?”
“They didn’t seem to have an idea in their heads. They looked and acted just like three born fools.”
“Strange!”
“I let a friend of mine see about them, as I had considerable to do, and he got them a passage.”