From underneath the bed peeped out one end of his strong box.
Against the wainscot were suspended rusty blunderbusses, horse pistols,
and a cut-and-thrust sword, with which he had fortified his room to
defend his life and treasure. He had employed no physician during his
illness, and from the scanty relics lying on the table, seemed almost
to have denied himself the assistance of a cook.
When I entered the room he was lying motionless; with his eyes fixed
and his mouth open; at the first look I thought him a corpse. The noise
of my entrance made him turn his head. At the sight of me a ghastly
smile came over his face, and his glazing eye gleamed with
satisfaction. It was the only smile he had ever given me, and it went
to my heart. "Poor old man!" thought I, "why would you not let me love
you?--Why would you force me to leave you thus desolate, when I see
that my presence has the power to cheer you?"
"Nephew," said he, after several efforts, and in a low gasping voice
--"I am glad you are come. I shall now die with satisfaction. Look,"
said he, raising his withered hand and pointing--"look--in that box on
the table you will find that I have not forgotten you."
I pressed his hand to my heart, and the tears stood in my eyes. I sat
down by his bed-side, and watched him, but he never spoke again. My
presence, however, gave him evident satisfaction--for every now and
then, as he looked at me, a vague smile would come over his visage, and
he would feebly point to the sealed box on the table.
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