n, unshorn,
and gray with coming death; but the very position of the features
had altered. His cheeks had fallen away; his nose was contracted;
his mouth, which he could hardly close, was on one side. Miss Baker
told George afterwards that the left side was altogether motionless.
George certainly would not have known his uncle--not at the first
glance. But yet there was a spark left in those eyes, of the old
fire; such a spark as had never gleamed upon him from any other human
head. That look of sharpness, which nothing could quench, was still
there. It was not the love of lucre which was to be read in those
eyes, so much as the possessor's power of acquiring it. It was as
though they said, "Look well to all you have; put lock and bar to
your stores; set dragons to watch your choice gardens; fix what
man-traps you will for your own protection. In spite of everything, I
will have it all! When I go forth to rob, no one can stay me!" So had
he looked upon men through all his long life, and so now did he look
upon his nephew and his niece as they stood by to comfort him in his
extremity.

"I am sorry to see you in this state," said George, putting his hand
on to that of his uncle's, which was resting on the bed.

"Thank'ee, George, thank'ee. When men get to be as old as I am, they
have nothing for it but to die. So you've been to Egypt, have you?
What do you think about Egypt?"

"It is not a country I should like to live in, sir."

"Nor I to die in, from all that I hear of it. Well, you're just in
time to be in at the last gasp--that's all, my boy."

"I hope it has not come to that yet, sir."

"Ah, but it has. How long a time did that man give me, Mary--he that
got the twenty pounds? They gave a fellow twenty pounds to come and
tell me that I was dying! as if I didn't know that without him."

"We thought it right to get the best advice we could, George," said
poor Miss Baker.

"Nonsense!" said the old man, almost in his olden voice. "You'll find
by-and-by that twenty pounds are not so easy to come by. George, as
you are here, I might as well tell you about my money."

George begged him not to trouble himself about such a matter at
present; but this was by no means the way in which to propitiate his
uncle.

"And if I don't talk of it now, when am I to do it? Go away,
Mary--and look here--come up again in about twenty minutes. What I
have got to say won't take me long." And so Miss Baker left the room.

"George