“Yaw,” said I.
“Und you vitness der vill dot vhas to benefit you? Shentlemen, it vhas not vorth the paper it vhas wrote on;” and he threw the will upon the table.
“It matters not one jot,” said I, who, as I had never attached the least significance to the legality of this sailor-made will, was in no wise astonished, because I reckoned old Tulp perfectly right. “About forty-two thousand pounds’ worth of the thirteen tons of dollars I have brought home for you at the risk of my life I keep, Mynheer. D’ye understand me? I keep, I say,” and I repeated the sentence thrice, while I approached him by a couple of strides. “Seven thousand are mine; the rest will go to the erection of a church.”
“Der money,” said Mynheer Tulp without irritation, though his yellow complexion was a shade paler than it had been a little while before, “vhas left to der Church of Englandt?”
“You have read it,” said I.
“Now, shentlemen,” continued the little Dutchman, “dere vhas a Church of Englandt, certainly; but dere vhas no Church of Englandt dot a man can leaf money to.”
“You know a sight too much,” shouted my uncle. “The money’s in my cellar, and there it stops till you settle.”
“Der Church of Englandt,” said Mynheer Tulp, “vhas a single body dot has no property. You cannot leaf money to der Church of Englandt. Dot alone makes my poor stepson’s vill nooll und void.”
“The money remains where it is——” began my uncle.
“Do you allow,” I interrupted, “that Captain Greaves has a right to his share?”