Nettles was almost melted into a jelly. He was in the hands of his worst enemies. What became of him we shall shortly see. CHAPTER XVIII. PHILLIP REDGILL’S UNEXPECTED FORTUNE—HE IS ALONE IN THE WORLD—THE CORONER’S INQUEST OVER HIS FATHER—THE VERDICT—THE VILLAIN PURSUES HIS CAREER OF CRIME—SIR ANDREW’S DAUGHTER FANNY, AND WHAT SHE DID—THE PRANKS OF A KNAVE. This event of his father’s death filled Phillip, apparently, with unbounded grief. He was so much afflicted that, at the coroner’s inquest, the body having been dragged for and recovered, he could scarcely articulate a word. He averted his face from the corpse, and simply explained that “the mournful accident had happened by his father driving too close to the edge of the bridge; and the first intimation he had of danger was the sudden tilting of the vehicle and the falling of the horses, with his father, into the river.” The verdict rendered by the coroner’s jury was “accidental drowning.” The funeral of the much-respected deceased was attended by numbers of well-known merchants and brokers on ’Change, who condoled with Phillip upon his unexpected bereavement. Old Sir Andrew appeared seated in the first coach as one of the chief mourners, and if the size of a white handkerchief was any index of the extent of his grief, Sir Andrew’s sorrow must have been of very extensive dimensions; for he held the said handkerchief to his face all the way to the cemetery and back, and sighed very often and emphatically. He did not fail to preach a sermon on the way to Phillip, on the vanity of earthly things—the old hypocrite!—but that youth simply sighed hypocritically, and, if the truth must be told, felt extremely glad that his parent _was_ laid in the grave. “_I_ know what old Sir Andrew’s about!” mused Phillip, as they rode home from the funeral; “he can’t fool _me_! he wants me to marry his daughter, eh? What an idea! I’m not fool enough to think of such a thing _now_—of _course_ not! Marry _her_?—Such a weazened-faced old maid as _she_ is? Not _I_, indeed! All the governor’s property is _mine_, now! I have no more use for old Sir Andrew and _his_ money-grubbing lot. I’m rich enough without him, and will marry some dashing belle when my father’s affairs are arranged, and fool Sir Andrew—he’ll see if I don’t!” The truth is that Phillip had all along desired a marriage with Sir Andrew’s daughter for the sake of money only; but now that he was master of his own actions, and inheritor of all his father’s wealth, he instantly conceived different ideas. When young Redgill had returned from the funeral, he discovered that Jacob Sloman, Esq., the lawyer, had already arrived to read the will, and, among the uninvited, was old Moss, the Jew. Alter light refreshment, the company adjourned to the large parlour, where Mr. Sloman was busily engaged in arranging his papers.