—under those circumstances, sir, I happened to be walking in the yard early one afternoon, and happened to have an iron rod in my hand, with which I have been sometimes accustomed to beguile the monotony of a literary life, when I struck it against an object not necessary to trouble you by naming—”
“It is necessary. What object?” demanded Venus, in a wrathful tone.
“—Hear me out!” said Wegg. “The pump.—When I struck it against the pump, and found, not only that the top was loose and opened with a lid, but that something in it rattled. That something, comrade, I discovered to be a small flat oblong cashbox. Shall I say it was disappointingly light?”
“There were papers in it,” said Venus.
“There your expressive countenance speaks indeed!” cried Wegg. “A paper. The box was locked, tied up, and sealed, and on the outside was a parchment label, with the writing, ‘ My Will, John Harmon, Temporarily Deposited Here. ’ ”
“We must know its contents,” said Venus.
“—Hear me out!” cried Wegg. “I said so, and I broke the box open.”
“Without coming to me!” exclaimed Venus.
“Exactly so, sir!” returned Wegg, blandly and buoyantly. “I see I take you with me! Hear, hear, hear! Resolved, as your discriminating good sense perceives, that if you was to have a sap—pur— ize , it should be a complete one! Well, sir. And so, as you have honoured me by anticipating, I examined the document. Regularly executed, regularly witnessed, very short. Inasmuch as he has never made friends, and has ever had a rebellious family, he, John Harmon, gives to Nicodemus Boffin the Little Mound, which is quite enough for him, and gives the whole rest and residue of his property to the Crown.”