After you've read the will， you'll understand what I mean. While I bum in Hell beyond the borders of this life I know now， you'll still be in that life， but burning in a hell with fiercer flames than any God could possibly manufacture. Oh， my Ralph， I've gauged you to a nicety！ If I never knew how to do anything else， I've always known how to make the ones I love suffer. And you're far better game than my dear departed Michael ever was. When I first knew you， you wanted Drogheda and my money， didn't you， Ralph？ You saw it as a way to buy back your natural métier. But then came Meggie， and you put your original purpose in cultivating me out of your mind， didn't you？ I became an excuse to visit Drogheda so you could be with Meggie. I wonder could you have switched allegiances so easily had you known how much I'm actually worth？ Do you know， Ralph？ I don't think you have an inkling. I suppose it isn't ladylike to mention the exact sum of one's assets in one's will， so I had better tell you here just to make sure you have all the necessary information at your fingertips when it comes to your making a decision. Give or take a few hundred thousands， my fortune amounts to some thirteen million pounds.
I'm getting down toward the foot of the second page， and I can't be bothered turning this into a thesis. Read my will， Ralph， and after you've read it， decide what you're going to do with it. Will you tender it to Harry Gough for probate， or will you burn it and never tell a soul it existed. That's the decision you've got to make. I ought to add that the will in Harry's office is the one I made the year after Paddy came， and leaves everything I have to him. Just so you know what hangs in the balance. Ralph， I love you， so much I would have killed you for not wanting me， except that this is a far better form of reprisal. I'm not the noble kind； I love you but I want you to scream in agony. Because， you see， 1 know what your decision will be. I know it as surely as if I could be there， watching. You'll scream， Ralph， you'll know what agony is. So read on， my beautiful， ambitious priest！ Read my will， and decide your fate.
It was not signed or initialed. He felt the sweat on his forehead， felt it running down the back of his neck from his hair. And he wanted to get up that very moment to burn both documents， never read what the second one contained. But she had gauged her quarry well， the gross old spider. Of course he would read on； he was too curious to resist. God！ What had he ever done， to make her want to do this to him？ Why did women make him suffer so？ Why couldn't he have been born small， twisted， ugly？ If he were so， he might have been happy. The last two sheets were covered by the same precise， almost minute writing. As mean and grudging as her soul.
I， Mary Elizabeth Carson， being of sound mind and sound body， do hereby declare that this is my last will and testament， thereby rendering null and void any such testaments previously made by me. Save only for the special bequests made below， all my worldly goods and moneys and properties I bequeath to the Holy Catholic Church of Rome， under the hereby stated conditions of bequest：
First， that the said Holy Catholic Church of Rome， to be called the Church hereafter， knows in what esteem and with what affection I hold her priest， Father Ralph de Bricassart. It is solely because of his kindness， spiritual guidance and unfailing support that I so dispose of my assets. Secondly， that the bequest shall continue in the favor of the Church only so long as she appreciates the worth and ability of the said Father Ralph de Bricassart.
Thirdly， that the said Father Ralph de Bricassart be responsible for the administration and channeling of these my worldly goods， moneys and properties， as the chief authority in charge of my estate. Fourthly， that upon the demise of the said Father Ralph de Bricassart， his own last will and testament shall be legally binding in the matter of the further administration of my estate. That is， the Church shall continue in full ownership， but Father Ralph de Bricassart shall be solely responsible for the naming of his successor in administration； he shall not be obliged to select a successor who is either an ecclesiastical or a lay member of the Church.
Fifthly， that the station Drogheda be never sold nor subdivided. Sixthly， that my brother， Padraic Cleary， be retained as manager of the station Drogheda with the right to dwell in my house， and that he be paid a salary at the discretion of Father Ralph de Bricassart and no other. Seventhly， that in the event of the death of my brother， the said Padraic Cleary， his widow and children be permitted to remain on the station Drogheda and that the position of manager shall pass consecutively to each of his sons， Robert， John， Hugh， Stuart， James and Patrick， but excluding Francis. Eighthly， that upon the demise of Patrick or whichever son excluding Francis is the last son remaining， the same rights be permitted the said Padraic Cleary's grandchildren.
Special bequests：
To Padraic Cleary， the contents of my houses on the station Drogheda. To Eunice Smith， my housekeeper， that she remain at a fair salary so long as she desires， and in addition that she be paid the sum of five thousand pounds forthwith， and that upon her retirement she be awarded an equitable pension.
To Minerva O'Brien and Catherine Donnelly， that they remain at fair salaries so long as they desire， and in addition that they be paid the sum of one thousand pounds each forthwith， and that upon their retirements they be awarded equitable pensions.
To Father Ralph de Bricassart the sum of ten thousand pounds to be paid annually so long as he shall live， for his own private and unquestioned use.
It was duly signed， dated and witnessed.
