"Both!" cried the other, with an emphasis and expression that made me
tremble.
"If we burn the house, the papers will not rise out of it, depend on 't,
master," continued Gilbert; "and that box in the next closet will not
prove like Goody Blake's salamander."
I began to feel particularly uncomfortable.
"I wish they had all been burnt long ago," said mine honest uncle. After
a pause he went on: "This scapegrace nephew of mine will be here
shortly. For fear of accidents--accidents, I say,--Gilbert--it were
better to have all safe. Who knows what may be lurking in the old house,
to rise up some day as a witness against us! I intend either to pull it
down or set fire to it. But we'll make sure of the will first."
"A rambling jackanapes of a nephew!" said Gilbert; "I hoped the fishes
had supped on him before now. We never thought, master, he could be
alive, as he sent no word about his being either alive or dead. But I
guess," continued this amiable servant, "he might ha' staid longer, and
you wouldn't ha' fretted for his company."
Listeners hear no good of themselves; but I determined to reward the old
villain very shortly for his good wishes.
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