ts now employed upon the estate are to go on receiving their
usual salaries, and they are not to lose their pay if they have to be
discharged from old age or infirmity. The general management of my
estate I leave to the wise discretion of Count Rudolf Szentirmay.

"And now, committing my soul to God and my body to the earth, I await
with resignation my dissolution, and, putting my whole trust in God, I
look forward to the hour when I shall turn to dust."

These last words were also written down. The lawyer then read the will;
and then, first Karpathy and then all the witnesses present subscribed
and sealed it. And the same night a fair copy of it was made and sent to
Rudolf, as the chief magistrate of the county.

Then Karpathy bade the priest send in the sexton.

He entered accordingly, and a golden goblet with wine in it and a golden
patten with a thin slice of bread on it were placed on a little round
ebony table. It was the Holy Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, the last
supper such as the sick unto death partake of.

The priest stood in front of the table on which the wine and the bread
were. Karpathy, with Christian humility, approached the sacred elements,
the others stood around in silence. Then the priest communicated him in
their presence, and, after the simple ceremony was over, the old man
said to the priest--

"In no very long time, I shall see the happier country face to face. If
you hear that I am sick, say no prayers in church for my recovery,--it
would be useless; pray rather for my new life. And now let us go to my
son."

"To my son!" What feeling, what pathos was in that one phrase: "To my
son!"

All who were present followed him, and surrounded the child's cradle.
The little thing looked gravely at all those serious manly faces, as if
it also would have made one of them. The squire lifted him in his arms.
The child looked at him with such big wise eyes, as if he were taking it
all in; and the old man kissed his little lips again and again.

Then he was passed round among all the other old fellows, and he looked
at them all so gravely, as if he knew very well that they were all of
them honourable men; but when Rudolf took him in his arms the child
began to kick and crow, and fight with his little hands, and make a
great fuss, as children are wont to do when they are in a good
humour--who knows why?--and Rudolf kissed the child's forehead.

"How glad he is," said the Nabob, "just as if he knew