ncle Luke, say, had
tripped into the ditch instead of on the edge of it, the fellows who
came safe through might have had anything they wanted, even to the
governorship of the state or--or--"

"Silence!" came in commanding tones from the lawyer, who had begun to
let his disgust appear, perhaps because he held under his thumb the
bottle upon which all eyes were now lovingly centered; so lovingly,
indeed, that I ventured to increase, in the smallest perceptible degree,
the crack by means of which I was myself an interested, if unseen,
participator in this scene.

A sight of Smead, and a partial glimpse of old Luke's covetous profile,
rewarded this small act of daring on my part. The lawyer was standing;
all the rest were sitting. Perhaps he alone retained sufficient
steadiness to stand; for I observed by the control he exercised over
this herd of self-seekers, that he alone had not touched the cup which
had so freely gone about among the others. The woman was hidden from me,
but the change in her voice, when by any chance I heard it, convinced me
that she had not disdained the toasts drunk by her brothers and
nephews.

"Silence!" the lawyer reiterated, "or I will smash this bottle on the
hearth." He raised it in one threatening hand and every man there seemed
to tremble, while old Luke put out his long fingers with an entreaty
that ill became them. "You want to hear the letter?" old Smead called
out. "I thought so."

Putting the bottle down again, but still keeping one hand upon it, he
drew a folded paper from his breast. "This," said he, "contains the
final injunctions of Anthony Westonhaugh. You will listen, all of you;
listen till I am done; or I will not only smash this bottle before your
eyes, but I will keep for ever buried in my breast the whereabouts of
certain drafts and bonds in which, as his heirs, you possess the
greatest interest. Nobody but myself knows where these papers can be
found."

Whether this was so, or whether the threat was an empty one thrown out
by this subtile old schemer for the purpose of safeguarding his life
from their possible hate and impatience, it answered his end with these
semi-intoxicated men, and secured him the silence he demanded. Breaking
open the seal of the envelope he held, he showed them the folded sheet
which it contained, with the remark:

"I have had nothing to do with the writing of this letter. It is in Mr.
Westonhaugh's own hand, and he was not even so good as to