"And so, John, you saw him fall? 'Who saw him die?'--'I,' said the soul of truth, 'with my little eye'--and you have very sharp eyes, John. However, the poor fellow's gone; 'fell off,' you say? I don't wonder you feel it so; but, John, with all our sympathy for the unfortunate dead, don't you think this is a good opportunity for reading the Will? We three, you know, may possibly never meet again, and I am sure our young friend--what name did you say? Jasper?--I am sure that our young friend Mr. Jasper would like the melancholy satisfaction of hearing the Will." The man's eyes were devilish. John, as he faced about and caught their gaze, looked round like a wild beast at bay. "Will? What do you mean? I don't know--I haven't got no Will." "None of your own, John, none of your own; but maybe you might know something of the last Will and Testament of--shall we say--another party? Think, John; don't hurry, think a bit." "Lord, strike me--" "Hush, John, hush! Think of our young friend Mr. Jasper. Besides, you know, you were such a friend of the deceased--such a real friend--and knew all his secrets so thoroughly, John, that I am sure if you only consider quietly, you must remember; you who watched his last moments, who saw him--'fall,' did you say?" No answer. "Come, come, John; I'm sorry to press you, but really our young friend and I must insist on an answer. For consider, John, if you refuse to join in our conversation, we shall have to go--reluctantly, of course, but still we shall have to go--and talk somewhere else. Just think how very awkward that would be." "You devil--you devil!" John's voice was still hoarse and low, but it had a something in it now that sounded neither of hope nor fear. "Well, yes; devil if you like: but the devil must have his due, you know-- "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- Sing hey! but he waits for you! "Yes, John, devil or no devil, _I'm_ waiting for you. As to having my due, why, a lucky fellow like you shouldn't grudge it. Why, you've got Lucy, John: what more can you want? We both wanted Lucy, but you got her, and now she's waiting at home for you. It would be awkward if I turned up with the news that you were languishing in gaol--I merely put a case, John--and little Jenny wouldn't have many sweethearts if it got about that her father--and I suppose you are her father--" Before the words were well out of his mouth John had him by the throat. There was a short, fierce struggle, an oath, a gleam of light--and then, with a screech of mortal pain and a wild clutch at the air, my companion fell backwards over the cliff.