The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 48: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE FREEMASONS DAUGHTER. 89 tool of a doting boy and a gray-headed old rascal, who would have starved, rotted in the poor-house, but for my mistaken confidence. As for my nephew, I cast him off—discard him—curse him—curse ”— ‘“<T am the only person you ought to curse,” inter- rupted Gridley, anxious to ward his employer’s anger from the head of his young master; ‘‘ Henry Beacham knows nothing of this.” ‘< Liar !” said Grindem, doubtingly. “You know,” continued the clerk, “that I am neither a liar nor a flatterer? neither am I fool enough to trump up an accusation against you, without the means to substantiate it. You remember the night I found you in the cellar with the body of old Hanwell’s servant ?”’ ‘< Ay—yes,”’ answered Gilbert, shudderingly. ‘‘ After you had returned to the counting-house to see that all was secure, I examined the corpse, to ascer- tain, if possible, the cause of death; and found what, in your haste, you had neglected to secure—his master’s letters to his nephew, in which the writer explained why, instead of making a will, he had sent his nephew a power of attorney to draw the savings of his long miserly existence from the Bank of England.” ‘‘And what were those reasons?’ demanded the merchant. ‘«* Simply to avoid the legacy duty on so large a sum. Like yourself he was an earthworm—a true worshipper of Mammon; a man who would have starved himself COniiclooecl SS (SO