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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"

We are all handsome in
the family; even I myself, I have had my successes, the memories of
which still charm me. It is my intention, my nephew, to make of
you my heir. I am not very well content with my other nephew,
Monsieur le Vicomte: he has not been respectful, which is the
flattery due to age. And there are other matters.'
I was half tempted to throw back in his face that inheritance so
coldly offered. At the same time I had to consider that he was an
old man, and, after all, my relation; and that I was a poor one, in
considerable straits, with a hope at heart which that inheritance
might yet enable me to realise. Nor could I forget that, however
icy his manners, he had behaved to me from the first with the
extreme of liberality and--I was about to write, kindness, but the
word, in that connection, would not come. I really owed the man
some measure of gratitude, which it would be an ill manner to repay
if I were to insult him on his deathbed.
'Your will, monsieur, must ever be my rule,' said I, bowing.
'You have wit, monsieur mon neveu,' said he, 'the best wit--the wit
of silence. Many might have deafened me with their gratitude.
Gratitude!' he repeated, with a peculiar intonation, and lay and
smiled to himself. 'But to approach what is more important. As a
prisoner of war, will it be possible for you to be served heir to
English estates? I have no idea: long as I have dwelt in England,
I have never studied what they call their laws.


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