testament of the writer,
who names me his sole heiress.

I looked helplessly at the Burghermeister. The thought of my father's
death did not occur to me. If this dreadful event were to happen; if I
should lose him before my hour had arrived, at least the pain of
inheriting from him would be spared me. But who in the whole world--?

I glanced at the letter which the Burghermeister had with some
hesitation laid on the table, and saw a handwriting that was quite
unknown to me. "I don't know this handwriting," I said wonderingly,
though a sudden misgiving seized me, as I remarked that the direction
was in French. My evident astonishment seemed to relieve him. He
probably had supposed that a more intimate acquaintance had existed
between me, and the writer of the letter, and was prepared for a
painful scene. "Do you wish to read the letter now or later?" he asked.
I opened it at once, and read it with a beating heart but without any
outward show of emotion, at least I believe so. The letter was filled
with the rhapsodies which I had before spurned from me with horror.
They were hardly subdued by the approach of death, though the
unfortunate man must have felt it coming. I have not as yet deciphered
much of it. The indistinct French hand seems to have trembled at every
stroke with violent emotion.

But not a word of the legacy; only wretchedness and accusations against
fate which had rent asunder the fetters of passion, instead of
loosening them; confused tumultuous words, and ideas, written in order
to lighten the burden of one heart, and to weigh down the other with
it.

When I had laid down the letter, the kindly old gentleman turned to me,
and seemed to ask for an explanation which I could not give. When I had
told him that I was just as much astonished as he was, he departed,
leaving me a copy of the will for further consideration, but he
seriously advised me not to refuse so considerable a property in the
first moment of excitement, though I was of age, and need not consult
the wishes of my father. He would call again in a few days.

I will take a walk, I feel as if I could no longer remain in the room
with those papers; as if they impregnated the air with the fever heat
from whence they proceeded. I did not even require to read them a
second time to come to a decision; I--, or the poor of Meran--can there
be a doubt which of us will outlive the other, and will need the
fortune most.