"Kind, guid man!" cried the Laird, in a voice evincing strong emotion, either of love or greed. "That is kindness—ay, very different frae the friendship o' my sisters' and brothers' bairns. After a', I believe yer richt, Saunders—an hospital has nae gratitude; and what have we to do wi' a cauld and heartless warld?"
"There's just ae difficulty I hae," said Saunders. "The will's written and signed; but I dinna weel ken whar to lay it; for, when I'm dead, thae deevils o' corbies may smell the bit paper and put it in the fire. Maybe you would tak the charge o't for me, Laird."
"Ou ay," answered the Laird. "I'll keep it. The deil o' are o' them will get it oot o' my clutches."
"Weel, weel, my dear friend," said Saunders. "I'll put it into a tin box; the key ye'll find, after my breath's out, in the little cupboard that's at the foot o' my bed—ye ken the place. They can mak naething o' the key without the box; and, if you canna find the key, you can force the box open. Oh, I would like to see you reading the will in the midst o' the harpies."
"That's weel arranged, Saunders; ye can set about it as soon as you like."
"I intend to do it instantly, Laird," replied the man. "I'll about it this moment." And he rose and went out of the house.
In a short time, Saunders returned, holding in his hand a small tin box. He laid it down upon the table, and, taking out a small key, opened it, and took out a paper, entitled—"Last Will and Testament."
"There it is, my good friend," he said; and, replacing the paper in the box, he locked it and placed it in an escritoire pointed out by the Laird. He then went away.
Next day, the lawyer came to carry into effect the charitable resolution of Laird Rorieson; but he found that a great change had taken place upon the old man's sentiments. He was now adverse to a mortification, and said he was resolved upon leaving his fortune to one whom he considered to be a real friend, and, indeed, the only real friend he had upon earth. The lawyer was surprised when he ascertained that this friend was Saunders Gibbieson; but it was not his province to object—so he departed straightway to carry into effect the new resolution of the testator.
Two days afterwards, the Laird sent a message to Saunders to come and speak with him. Saunders obeyed; walking in to him slowly, and apparently with great effort, as if he had been labouring under a strong disease.