“None, I tell ye.”
“Few men can say that,” said I doubtingly.
“Fielding, I am dying, and I will leave my money to God.”
He spoke faintly, his appearance was very alarming; his eyes moved slowly and strangely.
“Tell me your wishes? If I live they shall be carried out.”
He repeated in a low voice that he would leave his money to God.
“In what form can this be done?” said I, fearing that his mind was giving way again.
“I will leave my money to the Church,” he answered.
“What Church?”
He made no answer.