Page:Three stories by Vítězslav Hálek (1886).pdf/222

 “When you come back from the town give it to my good gossip, the Mayor. And here am I forgetting all about the paper from sheer surprise!” He put his hand to his pocket, where he had an official document, drew out a roll of paper and handed it to the Mayor.

The Mayor broke the seal, ran his eyes over the contents, and said “This is Loyka’s last will. He leaves everything to you Frank, and everything is here mentioned down to the smallest details.”

Very likely Frank did not hear what the Mayor said. He sat by the gate on the ground, leant his hand on the abutment of the wall, his head on his hand, and wept without cessation.

But extreme surprise and astonishment had got the better of the rest of the bystanders, as was evident from the following conversation.

“Show it us, good gossip, the Mayor, show it us!”

“On my faith it is all true”

“And as soon as Vena returned from the town, he was to hand it over to you.”

“Well, and he has handed it over, to be sure.”

“And then, they say, that old Loyka did not know when he was to die.”

“To a hair he knew that he was to die to-day.”

“You see, I told you that old people knew to a hair when they are to die. Every one who is a hundred years old knows it. And he bade