“Five thousand dollars? O sir, do not mislead a dying man. Five thousand dollars? Why, it would be a fortune to Lucy!” “A fortune that she shall have,” the other assured him. “Just for signing my name?” “Just for signing your name to a will which will bequeath the rest of your belongings, namely, this little package, to an equally young and equally unfortunate girl.” “It seems right. I do not see anything wrong in it,” murmured the dying father in a voice that had strangely strengthened. “Will you assure me that it is all right, and that no one will suffer by my action?” “Did I not tell you who I was?” asked the stranger, “and cannot you trust one of my reputation? You will be doing a good act, a retributive act; one that will have the blessing of Providence upon it.” “But why this secrecy? Why do you come to me instead of paying the debt yourself? Is she——” “She is who she is,” was the somewhat stern interruption. “You do not know her; no one here knows her. Will you do what I ask or must I turn to your companion who seems as ill as yourself?” “I—I want to do it, sir. Five thousand dollars! Let me feel of the bills that represent so much.” There was a movement, and the sick and feeble voice rose again in a tone of ecstatic delight. “And I need not worry any more about her feet without shoes and her pretty head without shelter. She will be a lady and go to school, and by and by can learn a trade and live respectably. Oh, thank God, sir! I know who I would like to have made her guardian.” “Then you consent?” cried the stranger, with a thrill of some strong feeling in his voice. “I do, sir, and thank you; only you must be quick, for there is no knowing how soon the end may come.” The stranger, who seemed to be equally apprehensive of the results of this strong excitement, raised himself upright and motioned to the doctor and the nurse. “You will say nothing of our compact,” he enjoined in a final whisper, as the two summoned ones approached. “Nor will you express surprise at the wording of the will or, indeed, at anything I may say.” “No,” came in an almost undistinguishable murmur, and then there was silence, till the doctor and the nurse were within hearing, when the stranger said: “Our friend here has a small matter of business on his mind. It has been my pleasure, as I perhaps intimated to you, to bring him a considerable sum of money which he had quite despaired of ever having paid him; and as for reasons he is not willing to communicate, he desires to bequeath a portion of it to a person not related to him, he naturally finds it necessary to leave a will. Foreseeing this, I had the draft of one drawn up, which, if agreeable to you, I will read to him in your presence.”