“If I live to the age of Methuselah I shall never forget the impressive and energetic manner in which Mr. Martindale replied. Before I had well finished speaking, he hastily caught up my words, and said, ‘Many persons older than me! Ay, sir, and there have been persons younger than me or you who on Monday morning have been in apparently perfect health, and on Saturday have been corpses. Now, sir, you preached to me yesterday, give me leave to preach to you to-day. I recommend to you for the future not to contradict on Monday what you have been preaching on the Sunday. Yesterday you exhorted me most solemnly to prepare for death, and to-day you are doing all in your power to divert my thoughts from the contemplation of mortality.’ There was a degree of seriousness in that rebuke which I felt to be irresistible; and I said no more. Our late friend then proceeded to mention several other matters of a worldly nature, and your name, sir, was very frequently mentioned; am I at liberty to go on with that part of my narrative?” This interrogation was addressed to Markham, who immediately and almost quickly said, “By all means, Mr. Denver, by all means. I beg you would not hesitate about the use of my name.” “Your fathers name also was mentioned,” said the clergyman. Markham supposed, therefore, that some allusion had been made to his father’s embarrassments, and that on that account Mr. Denver felt some delicacy in speaking of the subject. As, however, Markham was well aware that nothing known to Mr. Denver could long be kept a secret, he gave full permission for any and every thing to be repeated which Mr. Martindale had said. On this leave, the rector of Brigland continued his narrative. “Changing the subject from spiritual to temporal matters, Mr. Martindale then said, ‘Now, sir, I wish to make some alteration in my will in favor of two good friends of mine; and I am not willing to send for Mr. Price on this occasion, because I am desirous of making the alteration in his favor. He is a scrupulous man, and he would plague me with his modest refusals and opposition: so I shall execute it all myself; but I must have witnesses to the alteration, and you must find me some. The other friend whom I wish to put into my will, I believe you know. You dined with him here some time ago, soon after the trial in which my cousin was so unpleasantly engaged.’ I replied, ‘I know the gentleman, sir, to whom you allude, I remember him perfectly well.’ Mr. Martindale then proceeded, and as you wish to hear all the particulars, he said, ‘I have lately seen the young man very properly and suitably engaged in attending on his sick father; and from what I could learn before I left the town, I have reason to believe…’”