several small bits of property about the town. In short,
it was almost with consternation that, following into the dirty bar,
I surprised him in the act of raising a glass of brandy to his lips
with a trembling hand.

I certainly took him aback, and he almost dropped the glass.
"Excuse me, Dr. Frampton," he stammered, "pray do not think--this
indulgence--not a habit, I assure you. Oh, doctor! I have passed a
fearful night!"

"Indeed?" said I sympathetically. "If my services can be of use--"

"No, no," he interrupted, paused, and seemed to consider.
"At least, not yet."

"It seems, then, that I am doubly inopportune," I said, "for I have
been following you to ask a small favour--not for myself, but for a
certain Major Dignum, at the Grand Pump Hotel; nothing more than the
attesting of a signature--a mere matter of form."

"Major Dignum? Ah, yes! the name is familiar to me from the
_Courant's_ Visitors' List." Mr. Jenkinson passed an agitated hand
across his forehead. "I cannot recall seeing him in my shop. By all
means, doctor--to oblige the gentleman--in my unhappy frame of mind--
it will be a--a distraction."

So back I led the jeweller, explaining on the way how I had caught
sight of him from the hotel window, and ushered him up to the
apartment where the Major sat impatiently awaiting us.

"Good morning, sir," the Major began, with a bow. "So your name's
Jenkinson? Most extraordinary! I--I am pleased to hear it, sir."

"Extraordinary!" the Major repeated, as he bent over the papers to
sign them. "I am asking you, Mr. Jenkinson, to witness this
signature to my last will and testament. In the midst of life--by
the way, what is your Christian name?"

"William, sir."

"Incredible!" The Major bounced up from his chair and sat down again
trembling, while he fumbled with his waistcoat pocket. "Ah, no!--to
be sure--I gave it to my seconds," he muttered. "In the midst of
life--"

"You may well say so, sir!" The jeweller took a seat and adjusted
his spectacles as I sanded the Major's signature and pushed the
document across the table. "A man," Mr. Jenkinson continued, dipping
his pen wide of the ink-pot, "on the point of exchanging time for
eternity--"

"That thought is peculiarly unpleasant to me just now," the Major
interrupted. "May I beg you not to enlarge upon it?"

"But I _must_, sir!" cried out Mr. Jenkinson, as though the words
were wrested from him by an inward agony; and tearing op