“Well, sir, I do not know for certain, and it was not for me to spy on my master, but I'm much mistaken if many a one in the better class was not the better of Mr. Dodson in their troubles.” “How do you think that?” inquired Mr. Great-heart in huge delight “I've seen him read a letter maybe six times, and he would wipe his eyes through pleasure as I took it You wouldn't believe, maybe, as master could be like that” “I do, Maria. I declare it's what I expected. And what then?” “He would walk up and down the room, and speak to himself, and read another bit, and rub his hands...” “I wish I had been there, Maria.” “And he would carry a letter like that in his pocket for days, and then he would put it carefully in the fire; but I saw him take it out, half-burned, and read a corner again before he burned that letter.” “Maria, I cannot tell you how much obliged I am to you for coming to me, and giving me such a touching account of your dear master. Now, is there anything I can do for you in this loss?” “Lord bless me, sir, that I should have been taking up your time like this, and you a magistrate, and never told you what brought me! It's more than a month past that master said to me, 'Maria, if anything happens to me, go to Mr. Greatheart's office, and give him my keys, and ask him to open my desk. He is a good man, and he's sure to come.'” “Did he say so? That was most generous of him, and I appreciate it highly. I will come instantly, and shall bring a lawyer with me, a kind-hearted and able man. Good-bye for the present, Maria; you have fulfilled your charge, as I believe you have all your duty, excellently... excellently.” “You see, Welsby,” as they went up to the house, “Dodson had left his firm, and had few friends, perhaps none--a reserved man about himself, but a true man at the bottom.” “So you have always said, Mr. Greatheart Well know now; my experience as a lawyer proves that, as a rule, a man's papers reveal him, and there are some curious surprises.” “If you look through that safe, and note the contents, Welsby, I'll read this letter addressed to me. I gather that I must be executor, and there seems to be no lawyer; very like Dodson, very--do everything for himself. “Liverpool, April 15th, 188--. “Barnabas Greatheart, Esq. “My dear Sir,--You will peruse this letter after my death, and you will be pleased to consider it as intended for your eyes alone, since it is in the nature of a confession. “My early career was a continuous struggle with narrow and arduous circumstances, and I suffered certain disappointments at the hands of friends which I considered undeserved. In consequence of these experiences I grew penurious, cynical, merciless, hopeless, and, let me say it plainly, a sour, hard man, hating my neighbours, and despised of them. May the Almighty forgive me!