‘You’re right, though.—What shall I do with it? I’ve been asking myself the same question ever since I wrote to you last night; and now you’re here, I’m no nearer the answer. It’s a deal of money, hard got, and soon spent; and I don’t know who it’s to go to. Plaguy hard to leave it at all. No good grumbling about that, though. I won’t give it to an hospital, or build a church, or endow almshouses; I’ve no patience with that sort of humbug. As if a man hadn’t been robbed enough all these years, what with rates and what with taxes. I can’t keep the money myself, and there’s no one to give it to—no one.’
Perhaps, through that heart, all seared and scorched with evil passions, eaten through and through with corroding suspicion, there darted a momentary pang at the thought that there was not a human being from whom the gift of all his painfully acquired wealth would buy one tear of sorrow, or even one grateful remembrance of the giver.
He sat brooding with a gloomy brow; and this time the silence was so long that Mr Blackford was about to break it at the risk of another rebuke, when Mr Franklin smote his hand upon his thigh and laughed—a harsh and cackling laugh, devoid of mirth or geniality.
‘Blackford,’ said he, ‘I’ll leave it to you!’
Had the lawyer received a blow from the ready poker which stood in the nearest corner of the fireplace, he could hardly have been more thoroughly stunned. ‘To me!’ he managed to gasp out, after a moment’s astounded silence.
‘I’ll leave it to you!’ repeated Mr Franklin, nodding emphatically. ‘Ain’t you willing, that you stare like a stuck pig? It’s not because of any regard for you—don’t think it. I’ll leave it to you, just because it will be about the worst kind of sell for ’em all I could anyhow invent. I hate ’em—every one! and the thought of their faces when they come to hear the will read, will be about the only consolation I shall have for being obliged to part with it at all. And mind you, I shall make it a condition that they do hear it read. You are to call them all together for the purpose, and you’re not to breathe a word beforehand of the nice little surprise in store for ’em. Every man-Jack will think he’s been “remembered”—and so he has, I assure you! You’ll have a nice time of it with ’em, Blackford. D’ye quail at the thought of it—eh? If so, say the word, and we’ll think of something else.’
‘Not on my account, I beg,’ said the solicitor, recovering his senses. ‘I daresay I shall be equal to the occasion. But Mr Franklin, my dear sir, how am I to thank you for such munifi’——
‘You’d better not thank me at all, if you’re wise,’ said the eccentric testator; ‘you may sicken me like the rest, and then I shall alter my mind. Bosh! I know you well enough. You’ll try to double the money as soon as you get it; and you’ll either lose it all and hang yourself, or you’ll get mixed up in some piece of rascality that will bring you to penal servitude. You have my instructions. Go and make the will; and bring it here to-morrow, and I’ll sign it. And look here! bring two witnesses with you; I don’t want any one in this house to know what I’ve been about. Here’s a list of the securities. Be off! Good-bye—get out!’ And with this unceremonious dismissal, the interview came to an end.
As he hurried back to his office, Mr Blackford was able at last to realise the immensity of the good luck which had befallen him in this extraordinary manner. Twenty-five thousand pounds, all invested in sound Stock Exchange securities! Good-bye to the strife for bread; to the trap-net of petty pecuniary embarrassments which meets and deadens effort at every struggle; to the haunting care which makes hard the nightly pillow and drives away slumber before the dawn; to the hand-to-mouth existence, and the thousand-and-one daily degradations of a struggling professional man. Good-bye to one and all—if Mr Franklin’s suddenly conceived purpose would but hold until he should in good time, the best of time, betake himself to a region where codicils are an impossibility. But one thought was present to the lawyer’s mind at that moment—to get the will drawn and signed with all possible expedition; but one hope was his—that his client might thereafter make an edifying end with as little delay as possible.