'I was only a kid when he went. I've told you lots of times that I don't seem to have the least recollection of what he was like. I didn't think he was so old.' 'He's crowded threescore years and ten into the life he's lived, and more. Besides, sickness has aged him.' 'Is he conscious?' 'Now? He's asleep.' 'I mean when he's awake. 'He was conscious when I saw him first; that is, after a fashion of his own.' 'Is he--' He stopped. I saw that a thought was passing through his mind to which he hesitated to give utterance. Presently it came. 'Is he conscious enough to make a will?' The question took me aback. It suggested an eventuality for which I had made no sort of preparation. If Mr. Montagu Babbacombe took it into his head to let himself go in a 'last will and testament,' I should be in a fix. I arrived at an instant determination. 'I should say not. Any will he might make in his present condition would not be worth the paper it was written on. Of that I am sure.' I meant Mr. Babbacombe to take the hint. I hoped he would, though I had rather Reggie had not put the question. The young gentleman startled me with another remark which was equally unexpected and undesired. 'I sent in word to old Foster as I came along.' 'You did what?' My tone expressed not only unmitigated surprise, but also something so closely approaching to dismay, that in turn I startled him. 'What's wrong? Didn't you want me to tell him? He'll have to know.' 'That's true.' A moment's consideration showed me that it was. 'At the same time, I would rather you had consulted me before communicating with him. What did you say?' 'That Twickenham was dying at Cortin's Hotel, and that I was hurrying to him.' 'Then if you told him that, it won't be long before he's here too.' 'I don't suppose it will.' I did not relish the prospect at all. Things were moving more rapidly than I had intended. I perceived, too late, that there were complications ahead which I ought to have foreseen, but which, owing to my having my vision fixed on one thing, and one thing only, had escaped my notice. It was of the first importance that I should say a few words in private to Mr. Montagu Babbacombe before Mr. Foster appeared, or the bubble might be pricked in a second.