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 “You know whut I means. I means I 's gwine to leab dis place.”

“Now look here, Rose,” protested the lawyer, with dignity, “Peter Siner occupies almost a fiduciary relation to me.”

The old negress stared with a slack jaw. “A relation o' yo's!”

The lawyer hesitated some seconds, looking at the hag. His high-bred old face was quite inscrutable, but presently he said in a serious voice:

“Peter occupies a position of trust with me, Rose.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Rose; “I see you trus' him.”

“One day he is going to do me a service, a very great service, Rose.”

The hag continued looking at him with a stubborn expression.

“You know better than any one else, Rose, my dread of some—some unmannerly death—”

The old woman made a sound that might have meant anything.

“And Peter has promised to stay with me until—until the end.”

The old negress considered this solemn speech, and then grunted out:

“Which en'?”

“Which end?” The Captain was irritated.

“Yeah; yo' en' or Peter's en'?”

“By every law of probability, Peter will outlive me.”

“Yeah, but Peter 'll come to a en' wid you when he