The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-03-25
come I'd have burned it and kept the

then making odd little noises in his throat
thin, falsetto Sounds-until Learly i'll
the morning.
81 was not in the least sleepy, but have
never passed such disagreeable hours as
those were. | wanted to goaway-Td have
given all the nttle I'm worth to have done
it-but l couldn't. l felt that 50 long as he
was human | must stay with him. At 4
o'clock he sat up ia bed, and l thought
something ugly was going to happen. But
he said he wanted to be moved over to the
fire.
There was a big open CRATE with a
heaped up, glowing coal fire in it. At one
side of it was sofa for the nurse to sleep
on. 1t was his idea to be lifted on to that.
We took him up and laid him there, and
pulled round the sofa so that it stood in
front of the fire, for he seemed unable to
get warm enough. There he lay, with
will in either hand; and when he found him
self settled to his satisfaction he turned TO
me with cunning leer and said:
., Now I've got you. If you stir out of
this room, I'll put your will on the fire. If
you stay till the doctor comes in the morn
ing, I'll burn the other
u said nothing; the whole situation made
me feel sick
:" DO you know who the other is in favor
OF? he asked, It's in favor of the man
hate most in the worldn he said
so then | sat and waited-for what was
more than l could tell. 1t seemed like
sort OF race between death Morgan and
myself. Death was sure to catch him be
fore long; bat Morgan lay ready to do the
most harm he could to the only man in the
world who could be called his friend, if that
man should turn aside before the race was
over. AS for me, AS | sat there | con-
ceived such a loathing of this money of
Morgan's, and of the idea that was going
to inherit it, and such a disgust at this
sordid suspense, that more than once / was
on the point OF jumping up and throwing
the wretched will into the fire myself, or
leaving the room in order that he might do
so. But l abstained not as honestly think,
from any base motive, but because after
all, the man was dying, and he wished me
TO be there. he was treating me as if
were the lowest kind of sneak and black
guard; and yet he considered me, suppose,
as good man as had ever lived in the
world, and cared for me as much as such a
man as he was capable of caring for any
BODY. 1t was strange and revolving posi-
tion, and | shall never forget it.
During the last hours of darkness not a
syllable was uttered by anybody; sat most
OF the time looking at the fire; but ] was
conscious of Morgan's eve fixed upon me as
cat watches mouse, or rather as one man
watches another whom he suspects of an
intention to murder him. | felt, and per
haps he did that the strain was wearing
on him, and would probably shorten the
few hours he had to live; indeed, he weak
ened and sank visIbly; but he held on with
forlorn ghastly pertinacity: there was
nothing else for him in the world.
AT last the light of dawn shone through
the crevices of the blinds into the gas-lit
room; and | could hear the wind rising and
sweeping down the street pure freezing,
making me loathe still more the hot, close
air of the bedchamber. Sounds began to be
audible from without, people hurrying
along and O. horse car jingling by. Another
change came over Morgan, and it came
suddenly; he seemed to sink all at once into
a heap; his head fell forward on his breast,
and he breathed short and sharply, trying to
moisten his lips with his tongne; his eyes
rolled this way and that in a kind of speech
less terror and despair. | held glass of
water to his mouth, and he tried TO drink
some, but could not
The door bell rang down stairs The
sound went through MorSan's body like a
galvanic shock. He raised up, gaspng for
breath, and stretching his reck toward the
door. Steps were coming ups airs; tie door
opened, and there was the doctor
Morgan gave cry; whether it signified
triumph or rage, or whether it was an in.
voluntary shrek of exhausted strength /
tAVn hnOW lAb bWloltA HlIlSOl1 TOutI0 10
ward the fire, and swayed over, with the
will in mis- hand, as if TO put it on the Goals
| sprang to save him, but was not in time
He fell over into the crate, with his face
against the red-hot Goals, and rad lain 50
for a second or more before the doctor and
| could pull him off. We laid him on his
back on the sofa. His face was already I'M
cognizable-hideously disfgured. l think
that he lived for few minutes after, but
hax haa,a
voluntary quivering of the nerves
Meanwhile, the will he had put on the
fire had burned up without either of us at
tending to it. But when Morgan was quite
dead, the doctor picked up the other will,
which lay ON the floor beside the fender,
and after glancing at it, said rather dryly:
81 may congratulate you, Gen. Wey-
mouth. That is your name, l supposeF'
II didn't understand him. My name is
Cunliffe, / said.
81 beg your pardon! This will DIVORCES
the property to Gen Weymouth, and pre-
sumed, as be burned the other, that you
must be the heir. | know the burned will
was in favor of Mr.. Cunliffe, for / wit
messed the signature. | hope the poor crea-
ture made no mistake at the last, he added,
giving me a sudden glance, and destroyed
the one he meant to save
1T was moment before / comprehended
what had happened, but when did load
went off my soul and left me feeling all
over new; such burst of joy | never expe-
rienced and | knew what it meant to thank
God. AS soon as l could speak 1 said:
There was no mistake, doctor, Mr.. Morgan
did just as | wished him to do
"'Ah, he said, with another keen look,
well, if you are content, no one else has a
right to complain. But all this is rather
irregular. We must get lawyer or some
body to take the proper measures here II
you consent, will send one of the servantS;'
he rang the bell and the servant was de-
spatched on his errard. The doctor and the
nurse busted themselves with the body, and
l opened the window blinds and stood look
ing out.
THANK God it fell out as it did. But it
is an interesting speculation whether Nor
gan burned the viii he meant to; and, if not,
whether he realized before he died that he
had enriched the man he called his worst
enemyp
CHAPTER XIX.
DOUBT.
Such was the substance of the letter
written by Cunliffe to John Talbot, who
communicated something of its general