ce fought a duel
with it at Palermo, and ran a Sicilian prince so clean through the body,
and it held so tight, that we were obliged to send for a pair of
post-horses to pull it out again. Put that down as a legacy for my
cousin, Peter Simple. I believe that is all. Now for my executors; and I
request my particular friends, the Earl of Londonderry, the Marquis of
Chandos, and Mr John Lubbock, banker, to be my executors, and leave each
of them the sum of one thousand pounds for their trouble, and in token
of regard. That will do, Peter. Now, as I have left so much real
property, it is necessary that there should be three witnesses; so call
in two more, and let me sign in your presence."

This order was obeyed, and this strange will duly attested, for I hardly
need say, that even the presents he had pretended to receive were
purchased by himself at different times; but such was the force of his
ruling passion even to the last. Mr Phillott and O'Brien used to come
and see him, as did occasionally some of the other officers, and he was
always cheerful and merry, and seemed to be quite indifferent about his
situation, although fully aware of it. His stories, if anything, became
more marvellous, as no one ventured to express a doubt as to their
credibility.

I had remained in the hospital about a week, when Captain Kearney was
evidently dying: the doctor came, felt his pulse, and gave it as his
opinion that he could not outlive the day. This was on a Friday, and
there certainly was every symptom of dissolution. He was so exhausted
that he could scarcely articulate; his feet were cold, and his eyes
appeared glazed, and turned upwards. The doctor remained an hour, felt
his pulse again, shook his head, and said to me, in a low voice, "He is
quite gone." As soon as the doctor quitted the room, Captain Kearney
opened his eyes, and beckoned me to him. "He's a confounded fool,
Peter," said he: "he thinks I am slipping my wind now--but I know
better; going I am, 'tis true--but I shan't die till next Thursday."
Strange to say, from that moment he rallied; and although it was
reported that he was dead, and the admiral had signed the acting order
for his successor, the next morning, to the astonishment of everybody,
Captain Kearney was still alive. He continued in this state, between
life and death, until the Thursday next, the day on which he asserted
that he would die--and, on that morning, he was evidently sinking fast.
Towards noo