“The date of the will that has been proved, must be looked to,” remarked Venus. “It may be later than this one.”
“—Hear me out!” cried Wegg. “I said so. I paid a shilling (never mind your sixpence of it) to look up that will. Brother, that will is dated months before this will. And now, as a fellow-man, and as a partner in a friendly move,” added Wegg, benignantly taking him by both hands again, and clapping him on both knees again, “say have I completed my labour of love to your perfect satisfaction, and are you sap—pur— ized ?”
Mr. Venus contemplated his fellow-man and partner with doubting eyes, and then rejoined stiffly:
“This is great news indeed, Mr. Wegg. There’s no denying it. But I could have wished you had told it me before you got your fright tonight, and I could have wished you had ever asked me as your partner what we were to do, before you thought you were dividing a responsibility.”
“—Hear me out!” cried Wegg. “I knew you was a-going to say so. But alone I bore the anxiety, and alone I’ll bear the blame!” This with an air of great magnanimity.
“No,” said Venus. “Let’s see this will and this box.”
“Do I understand, brother,” returned Wegg with considerable reluctance, “that it is your wish to see this will and this—?”
Mr. Venus smote the table with his hand.
“—Hear me out!” said Wegg. “Hear me out! I’ll go and fetch ’em.”
After being some time absent, as if in his covetousness he could hardly make up his mind to produce the treasure to his partner, he returned with an old leathern hatbox, into which he had put the other