The next moment the lawyer was shown in, and having greeted them, proceeded to apologize for his unavoidable absence. "Here I am, however, sir," he concluded, "at your service."
"Go—leave us," said Liddell, abruptly yet not unkindly, to Katherine; then, as she left the room, "Finish the deaths for me, will you, before we go to business. She had just read the first two. Read—make haste!"
Somewhat surprised, Mr. Newton took up the paper and continued: "On the 30th September, at Wimbledon, universally regretted, the Rev. James Johnson, formerly minister of "Little Bethel, Bermondsey." On October 1st, at her residence, Upper Clapton, Esther, relict of Captain Doubleday, late of the E. I. C. Service. On the 2nd instant, at Bournemouth, Peter Fergusson, of Upper Baker Street, in the seventy-fifth year of his age."
"Fergusson dead! and he is three years my junior! Now it is all mine—all!—all! I shall be able to settle it as I like. I haven't eaten and drunk in vain. I'm strong, quite strong. All the papers are there, in my bureau. I'll show them to you. Aha! I thought I'd outlive him! I was determined to outlive him!"
With an uncanny laugh he struggled to his feet, and attempted to walk to his bedroom, his stick in one hand and the keys he had taken from his pocket in the other. For a few steps he walked with a degree of strength that astonished Newton; then he gave a deep groan, staggered, and fell to the ground with a crash.
Newton rushed to raise him, which he did with some difficulty. The noise brought the servant to his assistance.
"Go! fetch Dr. Bilhane," said Mr. Newton, as soon as they had laid the helpless body on the bed. "Though I doubt if he can do anything. The old man is gone."