"On my return to my country, after a long absence, I made immediate enquiries after him: I was informed of his untimely death. 1 had questions of infinite moment to my happiness to decide with regard to the state and disposition of his property: I sought out those of his friends who had maintained with them the most frequent and confidential intercourse; but they could not afford me any satisfaction: at length I was informed that a young man of your name, and living in this district, had enjoyed more of his affection and society than any other—had regulated the property which he left behind, and was best qualified to afford the intelligence which I sought. You, it seems, are this person, and of you I must make enquiries, to which I conjure you to return sincere and explicit answers."
"That," said I, "I shall find no difficulty in doing: whatever questions you shall think proper to ask, I will answer with readiness and truth."
"What kind of property, and to what amount, was your friend possessed of at his death?"
"It was money; and consisted of deposits in the bank of North America. The amount was little short of eight thousand dollars."
"On whom has this property devolved?"
"His sister was his only relation; and she is now in possession of it."
"Did he leave any will by which he directed the disposition of his property?"
"While thus speaking, Weymouth fixed his eyes upon my countenance, and seemed anxious to pierce into my inmost soul. I was somewhat surprised at his questions, but much more at the manner in which they were put. I answered him, however, without delay—"He left no will; nor was any paper discovered by which we could guess at his intentions: no doubt, indeed, had he made a will, his sister would have been placed precisely in the same condition in which she now is: he was not only bound to her by the strongest ties of kindred, but by affection and gratitude."
Weymouth now withdrew his eyes from my face, and sunk into a mournful reverie: he sighed often and deeply.
