“Certainly not.  Yes, we are doing a big business—­a very good business indeed; perhaps when you are stronger you may like to join us.”

“I sha’n’t get stronger, Matt—­so I spoke now.”

Sam, in his anxiety, thought Matt had been too prudent; he would have accepted Davie’s offer at once; but Matt was sure that by his plan they would finally get all the general’s money into their hands.  However, the very clever always find some quantity that they have failed to take into account.  After this long day at the mills General Denton had a severe relapse, and it was soon evident that his work was nearly finished.

“But you must not fret, Jennie dear,” he said cheerfully; “I am indeed younger in years than you, but then I have lived a hundred times as long.  What a stirring, eventful life I have had!  I must have lived a cycle among these hills to have evened it; and most of my comrades are already gone.”

One day, at the very last, he said, “Jennie, there is one bequest in my will may astonish you, but it is all right.  I went to see her a month ago.  She is a widow now with a lot of little lads around her.  And I loved her, Jennie—­never loved any woman but her.  Poor Mary!  She has had a hard time; I have tried to make things easier.”

“You had always a lile heart, Davie; you could do no wrong to any one.”

“I hope not.  I—­hope—­not.”  And with these words and a pleasant smile the general answered some call that he alone heard, and trusting in his Saviour, passed confidently

  “The quicks and drift that fill the rift
    Between this world and heaven.”

His will, written in the kindest spirit, caused a deal of angry feeling; for it was shown by it that after his visit to the Denton Mills he had revoked a bequest to the brothers of L20,000, because, as he explicitly said, “My dear brothers do not need it;” and this L20,000 he left to Mary Butterworth Pierson, “who is poor and delicate, and does sorely need it.”  And the rest of his property he divided between Jennie and Jennie’s bairns.

In the first excitement of their disappointment and ruin, Sam, who dreaded his brother’s anger, and who yet longed for some sympathetic word, revealed to Jennie and her husband the plan Matt had laid, and how signally it had failed.

“I told him, squire, I did for sure, to be plain and honest with Davie.  Davie was always a lile fellow, and he would have helped us out of trouble.  Oh, dear! oh, dear! that L20,000 would just have put a’ things right.”

“A straight line, lad, is always the shortest line in business and morals, as well as in geometry; and I have aye found that to be true in my dealings is to be wise.  Lying serves no one but the devil, as ever I made out.”