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-The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Pit Town Coronet, Volume III (of 3), by
-Charles James Wills
-
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-
-
-
-Title: The Pit Town Coronet, Volume III (of 3)
-       A Family Mystery.
-
-
-Author: Charles James Wills
-
-
-
-Release Date: February 23, 2013  [eBook #42169]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-
-***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIT TOWN CORONET, VOLUME III
-(OF 3)***
-
-
-E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Sue Fleming, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
-generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries
-(http://archive.org/details/americana)
-
-
-
-Note: Images of the original pages are available through
-      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
-      http://archive.org/details/pittowncoronetfa03will
-
-
-      Project Gutenberg has the other two volumes of this work.
-      Volume I: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42167
-      Volume II: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42168
-
-
-
-
-
-THE PIT TOWN CORONET:
-
-A Family Mystery.
-
-by
-
-CHARLES J. WILLS,
-
-Author of
-"In the Land of the Lion and Sun," etc.
-
-In Three Volumes.
-
-VOL. III.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Ward and Downey,
-12, York Street, Covent Garden, London, W.C.
-1888
-
-[The right of translation is reserved, and the Dramatic Copyright
-protected.]
-
-Printed by
-Kelly and Co., Gate Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, W.C.;
-and Middle Mill, Kingston-on-Thames.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
-  CHAP.                                    PAGE
-
-     I.--AFTER SEVENTEEN YEARS                1
-
-    II.--AT MONTE CARLO                      25
-
-   III.--AN ANONYMOUS LETTER                 52
-
-    IV.--PALLIDA MORS                        76
-
-     V.--A LITTLE RED BOX                   100
-
-    VI.--LUCIUS HAGGARD IS BEWILDERED       131
-
-   VII.--ENTER MR. BROOKES                  158
-
-  VIII.--THE HOLLOW BEECH TREE              179
-
-    IX.--MR. CAPT LEAVES SERVICE            203
-
-
-
-
-  THE PIT TOWN CORONET.
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER I.
-
-  AFTER SEVENTEEN YEARS.
-
-
-Seventeen uneventful years had passed and had streaked Georgie Haggard's
-abundant chestnut locks with grey. A lovely woman still. The innocent,
-healthful, girlish beauty had developed into the sweet matronly dignity
-which is so frequently seen among the happy wives and mothers of the
-English aristocracy. Haggard was still proud of his wife, because even
-he couldn't fail to see her beauty; and as for the old lord, he idolized
-her much as old Squire Warrender had idolized her twenty years ago at
-The Warren. Georgie Haggard was not demonstrative. Always quiet, she was
-rather timid and subdued in her husband's presence; but with the old
-lord, though perhaps a little more staid and dignified than of yore, she
-was still the lovely and affectionate woman of the old happy times. Hers
-was the beauty of the happy mother, the sweet matronly loveliness which
-is perhaps the more touching when tinged by the slight dash of sadness
-which idealises it and saves it from the commonplace. The smile was not
-ever present, but it was none the less beautiful and touching from its
-rarity.
-
-Reginald Haggard and his family had been installed at Walls End Castle
-ever since Lord Hetton's death. They had come originally upon a visit;
-Mrs. Haggard's health had suddenly broken down, and at the old lord's
-urgent entreaty the visit had been indefinitely prolonged. Although
-Haggard was, as we know, a wealthy man, he could not afford to disregard
-any suggestion of his great-uncle. At first he had looked on the whole
-thing as a confounded nuisance; he had objected to his wife that they
-might make themselves ridiculous by a too abject obedience to the whims
-of the old nobleman.
-
-But after all it was not so very bad for the Haggards. Lord Pit Town
-took care to make it very apparent to everybody that it was at his
-special desire that Haggard and his family remained at the Castle.
-He let it be very plainly perceived that he considered Reginald
-Haggard almost as his son, as well as his heir; for the permanent
-under-secretary at the Home Office, at the conclusion of his official
-duties, had quite enough to occupy his mind with his eternal whist at
-the club till the small hours of the morning. The odd trick was far more
-to him than the possession of Walls End Castle and the Pit Town title.
-But Mr. Lancelot Haggard remained a plain esquire till his death, which
-occurred seven years after that of the unfortunate Lord Hetton. When
-his man-servant opened the study door one morning, for he had found the
-bedroom empty, he saw Lancelot Haggard seated at the whist table, upon
-which the four hands of an unfinished game were spread. Pole's "Treatise
-on Whist" lay open at "The Echo of the Call," the candles had burnt out
-in their sockets, there were tricks turned, and three cards were already
-played of another one; and Lancelot Haggard sat bolt upright, the fourth
-card between his fingers, stone dead, but with a peaceful smile upon his
-lips.
-
-Reginald Haggard, then, was practically in the position of Lord Pit
-Town's son. Of course he was but plain Mr. Haggard still. He had got rid
-of his father's place, thus "washing his hands," as he had threatened,
-"of the whole bag of tricks;" for though Cunningham, the Scotch steward,
-had succeeded in screwing three per cent. out of the place, yet he had
-made himself so terribly unpopular in the process that he resigned in
-despair in order to emigrate to New Zealand, and so become, as he
-phrased it, his "ain mon again." When the steward resigned Haggard had
-been very glad indeed of the excuse to send the place to the hammer. A
-set of rooms in the huge mansion of the old lord in Grosvenor Square had
-been placed at Haggard's disposal, and though he frequently ran up to
-town, his _pied-à-terre_ was at the house which would one day be his
-own, and the Haggards had no regular establishment in London. As for
-Georgie Haggard herself, she invariably passed a portion of the summer
-with her father at The Warren. She usually made her annual visit
-accompanied only by the two boys, for Haggard invariably absented
-himself in the summer either for Norway fishing, lengthy yacht voyages,
-or as one of a little party of men of his own kidney, who sought their
-sport further afield and went lion-hunting in South Africa, shooting
-the hippopotamus on the White Nile, or chasing the fast-disappearing
-buffalo upon the American prairies. But as a rule he would get home for
-the shooting. Year by year the head of game in the Walls End preserves,
-under Haggard's fostering care, had increased. In the old lord's name
-Haggard had invited every year a select little party of crack shots; he
-gave them a couple of days' _battue_ shooting, the other four in the
-stubble and among the turnips, and at the end of the week they went away
-to "wipe each others' eyes" over some other man's birds. For some years
-the bags made at these little annual gatherings had been noted in the
-daily papers. Haggard himself not infrequently headed the list, for he
-was an enthusiastic sportsman and a brilliant shot.
-
-Reginald Haggard at five-and-forty had quieted down. Years and years ago
-he had taken his name off the books at the Pandemonium; he no longer
-gambled, and he took a great interest in politics, as became a man who
-was destined, in the ordinary course of events, and at no very distant
-date, to become one of our hereditary legislators. Of course Haggard had
-many friends, or rather acquaintances, all of whom were ready to kootoo
-and truckle to the man who would be the next Earl of Pit Town; men whom
-he would invite to dinner, and who would entertain him; generally men of
-his own age, or club-room bucks with wrinkled cheeks; men whose clothes
-were always in the fashion, and who as a rule ate and drank rather more
-than was good for them; men who rode in the park on three hundred guinea
-hacks, and who might be seen in the Drive in big mail-phaetons with
-Brobdingnagian lamps, or driving noisy and rather miscellaneous parties
-on their four-in-hands towards Richmond.
-
-I don't know what Haggard would have done without that invaluable
-esquire of his body, Mr. Maurice Capt. Capt accompanied him everywhere;
-he had camped out with him in the Rockies, and his culinary skill there
-had more than made up for the deficiencies of Bull-headed Bill, the
-half-bred titular cook of the expedition. Capt was a silent man, and his
-fellow servants were never able to extract any gossip from him
-respecting his master's wanderings. But Haggard was lucky in retaining
-one real friend; his old _fidus Achates_, Lord Spunyarn, was his friend
-still; still a bachelor, no longer the unsuccessful amateur athlete of
-former days, but developed into a full-blown philanthropist, the friend
-of mankind in general, but of the destitute East-ender in particular.
-
-Ever since Georgie Haggard, in her just indignation, had banished her
-cousin from her presence, Miss Lucy Warrender, still a handsome woman,
-had led a wandering life; the dove had found no rest for the sole of
-her foot. Homeless and friendless, though her intimates and
-acquaintances were innumerable, she was as restless and erratic in her
-movements as the Wandering Jew. Miss Warrender was always in evidence
-upon the Ascot Lawn; she was to be seen at Brighton during the season,
-at German watering-places, at Deauville, Biarritz, and Eastbourne or
-Scarborough in the summer, and occasionally even for a few days at The
-Warren, where she invariably appeared at Christmas. For Lucy Warrender
-had eight hundred a year of her own, which she had inherited from the
-colonel, her father. I am afraid she had become a confirmed old maid;
-she had flirted and philandered till she was thirty, and there were
-plenty of the very smartest people who were quite ready to flirt with
-her now, for Lucy Warrender still retained her good looks, her dreamy
-blonde beauty, and her eyes still sparkled as of old. We have said Lucy
-Warrender was homeless and friendless, and she had developed two master
-vices: to drown her troubles she gambled as only a woman can gamble, and
-she drugged herself with chloral and other abominations to procure a
-temporary forgetfulness of a black shadow that incessantly pursued her.
-The man Capt knew of the long-buried secret, and he persistently
-blackmailed the unhappy Lucy Warrender; but Capt was far too wise a man
-to kill the goose with the golden eggs. He considered that if he drove
-her to extremity, and the trick which had been played upon Reginald
-Haggard should ever become a public scandal, that he had nothing to gain
-but everything to lose. He knew that the English laws against what the
-French call _chantage_ were severe; he also knew enough of his master to
-be quite certain that if Haggard's just indignation were once aroused,
-he would be pursued with relentless ferocity. So he contented himself
-with plundering Lucy Warrender, and kept her secret; not because he was
-not perfectly ready to betray it, but because he saw no way of bringing
-his knowledge to a better market.
-
-As for the two young men, for they had already ceased to be adolescents,
-they were certainty physically decidedly above the average. Lucius, the
-elder, was, as we know, Lucy Warrender's child. His whole soul was
-wrapped up in the fact that a few short years would see him the
-possessor of the courtesy title and heir to his supposed father's ample
-means and old Lord Pit Town's incalculable wealth. The young fellow had
-even developed a taste for art, simply because he felt it was his
-bounden duty to be able to appreciate the innumerable treasures which
-must inevitably soon be his very own. Young Lucius Haggard had been
-petted and spoiled from his earliest infancy, he had had his way in
-everything; his nurses, his schoolmasters and his tutors had bowed down
-to him; good-looking young fellow that he became in after years, a fact
-of which he was perfectly aware; he was flattered and toadied to by the
-golden youth of both sexes, and by most of his elders, who ought to have
-known better, to an extent sufficient to have turned the head of any
-ordinary young man of well-regulated mind. But Lucius Haggard's was not
-a well-regulated mind. He was of his father's religion, but he carried
-the religion further. Reginald Haggard was a self-worshipper, a man
-determined to get the greatest amount of pleasure and amusement out of
-this world, regardless of consequences to others, a man for whom trumps
-were continually turning up, a man who felt he was a brazen pot among
-the earthen ones floating down the stream, and to whom the annihilation
-of the weaker vessels was a matter of utter indifference. Like Napoleon,
-he believed in his star, and he had been right in doing so, for when at
-two-and-twenty he had been turned out to take his chance, he had
-rapidly become the possessor of wealth far beyond his needs; a little
-later, after a short period of enjoyment of the free wild life in
-America, he had returned to draw the prize in the matrimonial lottery,
-which somehow inevitably falls to the lot of such as he. The good lives
-which stood between him and the Pit Town peerage had all dropped, and
-nothing now remained between him and what he considered his rights but
-one frail old man. But the young Lucius had never for an instant been
-submitted to the healthy influence of even temporary poverty, his
-existence had never even been troubled by so much as a crumpled rose
-leaf; the consequence was that his selfishness was utter and unaffected,
-that he did not even wear it as a garment, but that it was absolutely a
-part of himself. A tall handsome young fellow enough, fairly clever, who
-did not conceal that he thought himself rather superior to the rest of
-the world, and the rest of the world took pretty good care to coincide
-in the young fellow's opinion.
-
-As for George Haggard, he was the anti-type of Lucius. Equally
-good-looking, he was the picture of old Squire Warrender in his youth;
-his fair chestnut hair curled in profusion over his broad square
-forehead. He was a muscular youth who shone at school and at the
-university, in the cricket field and upon the river alike. But he was no
-mere athlete, for he had a taste for reading, and he never forgot the
-fact, which his father was continually pressing upon his mind, that he,
-as a younger son, would have to get his own living. And George Haggard
-was ambitious; he meant if possible to force his way into the arena of
-political life, and had already determined to make a struggle for name
-and fame at the Bar. But though George Haggard was ambitious, his was an
-affectionate disposition; he idolized his mother, and he truckled to no
-one, not even to his father or the old earl. George Haggard knew well
-enough that he would be a comparatively poor man--a pauper, as his
-brother pleasantly put it, but only a pauper from the point of view of
-Lucius Haggard, the probable future possessor of immense wealth, for The
-Warren acres would assuredly be his, and had George Haggard so willed
-it, nothing would have been easier for him than to sit and twiddle his
-thumbs and wait for old Squire Warrender's death; but as we have said,
-George Haggard was ambitious.
-
-The great new gallery at Walls End Castle, the Grecian temple which Dr.
-Wolff had designed over twenty years before, was now less offensive to
-the eye externally. It was a Grecian temple still, but its
-spick-and-spanness had passed away. Two old gentlemen arm-in-arm slowly
-walked down the principal saloon, the one a big grey-haired man whose
-face was disfigured with many scars; as he walked he gesticulated, and
-he spoke with a strong German accent in a loud voice. By his side ambled
-his friend and companion of many years, a very old man this, who stooped
-considerably and leant frequently upon a crutch-handle stick; the two
-men were John, Earl of Pit Town, and Dr. Wolff.
-
-"I never thought, Wolff, that I should be spared to fill the last space
-on these walls. I certainly never expected to see the termination of my
-labours. In art one cannot be too exacting. We made up our minds years
-ago that there should be nothing doubtful here, and here is the only
-remaining space filled at last, and filled, as it should be, by a
-masterpiece. Yes," said the old nobleman, as he rubbed his hands, "thank
-heaven there is nothing doubtful here. Nothing remains for me now,
-Wolff, but to leave the treasures that it has been the labour of my life
-to accumulate; my sight isn't what it was."
-
-"No man is what he was, my good friend and master, but it is not well to
-be sad. You set yourself a great task years ago, an almost superhuman
-task. He is aggomblished."
-
-"No, not accomplished yet, Wolff. I have only got through a part of it.
-I have caught my white elephant, but what am I to do with him? I know
-too well that my natural heir looks upon the contents of these galleries
-but as so many hundred thousand pounds' worth of hard cash. He is an
-honest man, and makes no secret of it."
-
-"But his son, my lord, the young Mr. Lucius?"
-
-"Ah! he is a mystery, Wolff, that I have failed to fathom. We have known
-him, my friend, since he was a little child. I can't tell why, Wolff, I
-have never trusted him. Perhaps the aged are over-suspicious. I confess
-to you that if I thought he loved art for art's sake, he should have my
-pictures, as he will ultimately have my title and what goes with it."
-
-"You can tie them up, my lord."
-
-"Yes, I know I can tie them up, but then the pictures I've loved would
-suffer. Who will care for them, Wolff, when you and I are gone?"
-
-"You have sometimes talked, my lord, of giving them _en bloc_ to the
-nation."
-
-"Yes, Wolff, I did once think of that; but since that time I have seen
-that real Chamber of Horrors, the National Portrait Gallery. I should
-not like to send her there," he said, as he pointed to the portrait of
-wicked Bab Chudleigh, who simpered and smiled at him from the wall. "No,
-Wolff, I shouldn't like my pictures to be hawked about as loans to one
-East End or provincial exhibition after another, to be sneered at by
-crowds of unappreciating yokels. It's a very heavy responsibility,
-Wolff."
-
-At this moment Reginald Haggard entered the gallery.
-
-"I hear, my lord," he said, as he shook hands with the old nobleman,
-"that you have hung the last long-sought treasure this morning. Is it
-really so?"
-
-The old lord nodded.
-
-"I suppose you will begin the weeding process now?" continued Haggard.
-
-The old man drew himself up a little stiffly. "If you can indicate to me
-anything that is unworthy, you will confer an obligation; but I think
-you'll find it difficult. In my opinion, Haggard," he continued, "and in
-the opinion of others far better able to judge than I am, there is
-nothing here requiring weeding out."
-
-Haggard slightly flushed.
-
-"I can only plead my ignorance," he said; "it is what most connoisseurs
-do."
-
-"Yes, there you're quite right; but most men begin collecting as the
-amusement of their old age. I began it sixty years ago, and I'm afraid
-my long life's labour is over, and that, useless old man that I am, I've
-lived too long already."
-
-"You look upon things in a melancholy light, my lord."
-
-"No man is pleased when he finds his occupation gone; and perhaps it's a
-little sad to me to find that you care for none of these things."
-
-"I know you wouldn't wish me to affect an interest I do not feel," said
-Haggard with an ingenuous smile.
-
-"No, there you're right. For we should find him out, shouldn't we,
-Wolff?"
-
-The doctor of philosophy laughed. "It is our business to detect shams,"
-he said. "Yes, I think we should have found you out."
-
-"Then, Dr. Wolff, you'd better try your skill on Lucius; he poses as a
-man of taste, I don't."
-
-At that moment the two young men entered the gallery.
-
-"Here he is to answer for himself," said Haggard; "and I'll leave him
-to your tender mercies. If he be a sham Priest of Art, unfrock him by
-all means, Dr. Wolff," said Haggard with a laugh, as he sauntered away.
-
-The two young men greeted their aged relative with respect, and nodded
-familiarly to Dr. Wolff.
-
-"I verily believe, my lord, that this younger brother of mine has no
-soul," said young Lucius Haggard; "he actually tells me that the
-contemplation of pictures produces in him naught but headache."
-
-"And a pain in the neck, Lucius; don't forget the pain in the neck,"
-said his brother.
-
-"Yes, his pain in his neck was his other symptom. He declares he sees
-more beauty in a sunlit rustic hedge than in a landscape by Claude
-Lorraine."
-
-"And I added to my criminality, I fear, Dr. Wolff, by declaring that I
-only liked a picture when it gave pleasure to my eyes, as does the
-wicked wanton on the wall yonder," he added, kissing the tips of his
-fingers to Mistress Barbara Chudleigh.
-
-"Ach, my young friend, do not glory in being a _Philister_," sighed Dr.
-Wolff.
-
-"I fear, George, yours is but a low and sensuous ideal, if Sir Peter's
-commonplace masterpiece is all that rouses your enthusiasm. Why, amidst
-so much that is beautiful, so much that is spiritual, so much that
-appeals to the higher nature, you should pick out the one commonplace
-bit in the whole collection, I can't imagine," said Lucius with a sneer.
-
-"You may call it commonplace if you like, Lucius. All I know is, that
-whatever else she may have been, if Bab Chudleigh was like that picture,
-she must have very closely resembled an angel."
-
-"And have you seen them then, these angels, young sir, that you speak so
-confidently?" said the German doctor, as a great smile ran over his
-scarred face.
-
-"Seen them? of course I have--hundreds of them. So did you, Dr. Wolff,
-when you were my age, and I have no doubt so did his lordship there,"
-said the boy with a glance at the old lord, who was peering into a
-picture at some distance. "I'll be bound that Lucius here sees the
-angels of his dream-fancies by the dozen. He goes in for poetry, you
-know, and all that sort of thing, though I for my own part would rather
-not see his angels, for I haven't been educated up to the pitch where
-one admires the beauty of decay, as Lucius has, the creatures with the
-pointed chins, the sandy towzled hair, the great hungry eyes, the
-uncomfortable poses, the deficiency of adipose tissue and the prehensile
-toes. I can't say that I appreciate green shadows under the eyes, nor do
-I see anything poetic in a bilious air. But all these things are very
-dear to Lucius, at least he says so. No, give me nature and Bab
-Chudleigh, and I'll make Lucius a present of art and his bony angels,
-and all Mr. Swinburne's clutching horrors into the bargain."
-
-"Thank you, George; it's very noble and generous on your part to hand
-over to me what you can't appreciate."
-
-"My dear Lucius, we all have our failings. You go in for art and the
-artificial, while nature is enough for me."
-
-"When you are my age," said Lucius with the superior wisdom of an elder
-brother, "you will cease to judge by externals, I trust. You will have
-learned to peep behind the veil, and you will see the real soul seated
-on its throne."
-
-"Bosh!" said George shortly.
-
-And so the idle talk went on, and Lucius continued to pose, while the
-worshipper of nature took pains to fit on the Philistine's skin tighter
-than ever.
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER II.
-
-  AT MONTE CARLO.
-
-
-Mr. Maurice Capt, though an ambitious man and a clever one withal, had
-risen no higher in the world since we saw him last; he was still
-Reginald Haggard's valet, but his wages were good and he had a little
-den of his own where his meals were served to him from the housekeeper's
-table in solitary state. The valet was by this time a man of property;
-his wants were few and his little economies, as he called them, were
-large. Nobody but his banker was aware of the extent of his
-accumulations; he couldn't have saved it all out of his pay, but he had
-managed to amass a comparatively large sum which stood to his credit in
-four figures. Was Mr. Capt a gambler, a backer of horses, or a dabbler
-in stocks and shares? Not a bit of it. Mr. Maurice Capt was the
-proprietor of a secret. For seventeen years Mr. Capt had drawn from this
-queer property of his a varying but comfortable income. When Lucy
-Warrender first came into her eight hundred a year, Mr. Capt's income
-had very sensibly increased. It wasn't paid quarterly or half-yearly;
-the manner in which it was drawn was sufficiently original. The bills
-which Mr. Capt drew whenever he thought fit upon Miss Lucy Warrender
-were always honoured. Mr. Capt was in the habit of writing to the lady
-in the humble tone of a suppliant. The letters always stated with
-praiseworthy clearness what was the sum required, and the demand was
-always met with business-like promptitude. How Miss Warrender managed to
-satisfy this insatiable bloodsucker I cannot tell, for though she had
-eight hundred a year of her own, she certainly lived up to it, perhaps
-beyond it. But Miss Warrender gambled in many ways; she speculated and
-had quite a large account which she had opened with a very old friend
-of former years, Mr. Dabbler, once of the firm of Sleek and Dabbler, but
-now trading by himself, and though dropping his h's as freely as ever,
-one of the biggest brokers on the Stock Exchange and an alderman of the
-City of London. I suppose Alderman Dabbler must have been very much in
-love with Miss Warrender, though he never actually had the impertinence
-to propose to her. Her transactions with him were numerous, and did not
-pass through his books. Most of her speculations were made upon his
-advice, and many a handsome cheque testified either to the astuteness of
-Miss Lucy Warrender, or to the generosity of Mr. Alderman Dabbler. Poor
-Dabbler, he was but one of the many irons in Miss Warrender's fire. Miss
-Warrender betted; it was even said that she ran horses as "Mr. Simpson."
-She would stand upon the _plateau_ at Monaco at the shooting matches,
-and in an entrancing costume and a pair of ten-button gloves, her face
-carefully shaded from the blazing sun by an enormous parasol, she would
-watch the birds fall right and left and die in agony, or drop wounded
-into the sea, and still continue to back the bird or the gun, as seemed
-to her good, with the cosmopolitan _habitués_ of the rather Bohemian but
-money-spending set in which she moved. It was a very miscellaneous set:
-peers, members of parliament, journalists, jockeys, people who lived by
-their wits but who somehow always managed to wear new garments of
-fashionable cut, actresses, singers, dancers, of European reputation,
-and some of them with no reputations at all, fashionables of enviable
-notoriety or the reverse; all these various sorts of people were
-hail-fellow-well-met with Miss Warrender upon the _Plateau_ at Monte
-Carlo, or within the walls of the great gambling house.
-
-Lucy Warrender had kept her good looks; I expect if she hadn't she would
-have gone under long before. She enjoyed herself in a sort of feverish
-way; she was a notoriously lucky woman when she gambled, and she gambled
-habitually and heavily. But just on the particular day we meet Miss
-Warrender again, Fortune had been unkind. The lady was sitting gazing
-out from her window on the second floor of the Hotel de Russie upon the
-sunlit tranquil turquoise sea. I don't think that she saw much beauty in
-the scene, for though she stared at the blue sea and the bluer sky, she
-appeared to be rapt in thought.
-
-There are some women who are always well dressed, whose flounces and
-whose furbelows are ever fresh and crisp; Lucy Warrender was one of
-these. It would be very easy to extract from _The Queen_ a poetic
-description of the pretty pale blue tea-gown that Lucy Warrender wore,
-but I must leave it to your imagination, reader. The pale blue and the
-profusion of delicate filmy lace suited Lucy Warrender's dreamy blonde
-beauty. Seventeen years had passed lightly over her head; perhaps the
-golden locks were a trifle more golden than of old, and if their
-luxuriance was due a little to art, the secret was only known to Lucy
-and her maid. Her foot, thrust into a heel-less Tunisian slipper of blue
-velvet embroidered with seed pearls, beat the floor impatiently. The
-strong sunlight showed that there really were a few tiny wrinkles,
-faintest lines on the ivory forehead and at the corners of the pretty
-mouth, whose ruddy lips were arched like Cupid's bow. But though the
-lips were arched, the mouth was determined, almost cruel; but the
-cruelty of the mouth suddenly disappeared as the door opened, and the
-whole face was instantly illuminated by the smile that men termed
-infantine and angelic, but which rivals of her own sex styled affectedly
-sentimental.
-
-It was Lucy's maid who entered the room, a big burly woman, still the
-fine animal of yore, Fanchette--the Fanchette who had succeeded the
-unhappy Hepzibah, and who had nursed the boys Lucius and George.
-
-"I have got them, mademoiselle," she said in French, as she smoothed out
-a little heap of blue bank notes; "seven thousand francs as usual; and a
-brave pair of earrings too, to produce that from the harpies of the
-_Mont de Piété_ at Nice. The employé made me the usual compliment,
-mademoiselle, and as he paid me the money he declared that the pair of
-single stones were the most beautiful he had ever seen. The rascal took
-care not to say it till we had made our bargain. _Ciel_, I trust
-mademoiselle will be _en veine_ to-night, for I shan't feel easy till I
-see the stones sparkling again in mademoiselle's ears."
-
-Lucy counted the notes, she dismissed the _bonne_, and then she
-soliloquized; not in so many words, as do heroines of melodrama, but
-this is what she said to herself, at all events the substance of it:
-
-"I am sick of life, I am sick of planning and plotting and being looked
-upon as an adventuress. I am sick of being bowed to and spoken to by
-people who in the old time would not have presumed to beg for an
-introduction. I am getting _déclassée_. Perhaps one doesn't feel it so
-much here, for we are pretty well all adventurers more or less, here in
-the gambler's paradise, though some of us have plenty of money." Miss
-Warrender stood before the smouldering hearth and gazed with stern
-scrutiny at her own features in the mirror. "Yes," she soliloquized,
-"Georgie, though she is two years older than I am, has certainly worn
-the better of the two; she is lovely Mrs. Haggard still. And what am I?
-A hag, a dreadful grinning hag, a woman to be flirted with, danced with
-and supped with, a woman who has ceased to be respected. Why, that
-dreadful old Baron Teufelsdroch called me his _belle petite_ the other
-day, and I have no champion now to take the old sinner by the throat and
-shake the life out of him."
-
-Lucy sank into the only comfortable chair in the room, and then she did
-a dreadful thing. Dreadful to our minds, dear reader, for we are
-respectable and insular and we have our prejudices, our glorious insular
-prejudices. We can sympathize with "The Sorrows of Werther," we can even
-shed tears perhaps over the bread-and-butter cutting Charlotte, but were
-Charlotte to light a cigarette! Oh horror--fie--for shame--pschutt: the
-lady would at once be outside the pale of respectability, totally
-unworthy of our love and sympathy; worse still, to our minds she would
-cease to be even good-looking or to deserve the lovely and romantic name
-of Charlotte at all. One can't tell why it is so: the preternaturally
-hideous heroes of our fashionable lady novelists seek consolation in the
-strongest and most expensive cigars or in rough cut cavendish. Dirk
-Hatteraick even places a quid of pigtail in his mouth, and that bold
-buccaneer and the heroes of the lady novelists still remain dear
-delightful darlings, and bright eyes grow dim over their hairbreadth
-escapes, their struggles and their woes. Spare then a little of your
-sympathy for poor Lucy Warrender, that bankrupt rake, as she coiled
-herself up in the big easy chair and took from her pocket a tiny silver
-case and extracted a _Laferme_ cigarette. Remember, reader, that
-Fanchette, you, and I, are the only accomplices of her guilty weakness.
-She took an ember from the fire with the tongs and lighted the little
-cylinder, and as she did so her features once more, as of old, became
-lighted up with the soft placid smile of girlish enjoyment, as the angel
-face became surrounded by a halo of tobacco smoke. Why shouldn't poor
-Lucy seek consolation as did the other villains and heroes of romance?
-It evidently wasn't the first cigarette by many that Lucy had smoked,
-for she inhaled the smoke scientifically and ejected it from her
-nostrils like an _habituée_.
-
-Nemesis sooner or later finds the sinner out, and when we called Lucy
-Warrender a bankrupt rake it was done advisedly, for Miss Warrender had
-come to the end of her tether. The earrings which she had pawned--a
-sordid act, for they had been a love-token, the souvenir of a reckless,
-wicked and unhappy attachment--were literally the lady's last stake. She
-took the little roll of notes from her pocket and methodically counted
-them once more.
-
-"So this is the end of it all," said Lucy to herself; "a few dirty
-pieces of paper and that is all. And if I lose them all to-night as
-something tells me is but too likely, then I must be a beggar, and must
-stretch out my hands for alms--or bid good-bye to all the bright
-sunshine and the happy, pleasant memories," and she laughed a hard
-bitter little laugh. "But why should I be sorry to go? Happiness is not
-for such girls as I have been. My secret has been well kept, so far, but
-will it be a secret long? For I can't afford to pay for silence now. If
-I land a heavy stake, or break the bank, all will be well: if not, I
-must go where I hope to find forgetfulness. But what if there should be
-no forgetfulness beyond the grave?" As her thoughts dwelt on the words
-she shuddered. "The cold, cruel, silent grave. Silent! Yes, that was
-something--and after--if there be an after." And then the thought of the
-happy girlish days at The Warren came back to her. The remembrance of
-the stupid faithful people she had known, and liked, and laughed at, and
-then the dreadful time at the Villa Lambert and what followed; and then
-her own triumphantly-successful trick--successful, perhaps, from the
-very simplicity of its audacity; and then her weary worthless
-after-life, with its sickening treadmill round of so-called gaiety and
-amusement. And then the child; why had he not died? It was for no love
-of her child that, by her agency, young Lucius had been foisted into the
-position of Haggard's heir. She had thought no further than to hide her
-shame, and in doing it she had unwittingly disinherited her own
-cousin's child. Why had Lucius not died?
-
-Lucy's melancholy meditations were disturbed by the entrance of
-Fanchette, who handed her mistress a letter and left the room as
-silently as she had entered it. Lucy recognized the hand, and knew full
-well what the letter would certainly contain. She had guessed aright.
-Another demand for money from the man Capt. The words were respectful
-enough, there was no threat, but Lucy Warrender understood what it
-meant--the money or exposure.
-
-A thousand pounds! As well might the daughters of Danaus try to fill
-their sieves with water, as Lucy Warrender attempt to satisfy the
-insatiable greed of the remorseless Capt. Miss Warrender placed the
-letter in the fire, and saw it consumed to ashes.
-
-"Unless I win heavily," she thought, "you will not be gratified, Maurice
-Capt. Then, I suppose, you will try your master, but I fancy you will
-have a bad quarter of an hour with him." The thought gave her evident
-pleasure; it even made her smile.
-
-And then she darkened the room, and flinging herself upon the sofa lay
-down to sleep away the hot afternoon till it should be time for dinner
-and the subsequent roulette.
-
-Eight o'clock saw Miss Warrender in a charming toilette of electric
-blue. The little bonnet with its short curling feathers did not hide the
-great wavy masses of golden hair; the little cape with its fur trimming,
-and the tiny muff, even the gloves and the boots, were of the same
-colour. As Lucy Warrender entered the Rooms she smiled, and she talked
-with several of her acquaintances. That hoary old sinner, General
-Pepper, C.B., bowed profoundly to her, and paid her his old-fashioned
-compliment.
-
-"Dayvilish pretty little woman," he remarked to his friend Colonel
-Spurbox, late of the Carabineers; "knew her years ago in Rome. Wears
-well and don't look her age. Those little plump fair women never do.
-Gad, she's not got her earrings on; sent them to her uncle's, I suppose.
-She'll go for the bank, Spurbox, to-night. Plucky little devil. I hope
-she'll win."
-
-The eyes of the two warriors gazed after the retreating maid with
-sympathetic admiration.
-
-"Crisp little thing, eh?" continued the general.
-
-"Monstrous," echoed his comrade, with ready acquiescence. "Let's go and
-drink her health, and then we'll go into the thick of it and see how she
-gets on."
-
-The two old bucks ambled off to drink Lucy Warrender's health; they
-wished her well. Much good may it do her.
-
-As Miss Warrender walked towards the great room where the worshippers of
-the Goddess Fortune most do congregate, the big _suisses_, in their
-handsome liveries and chains of office, bowed obsequiously; they all
-knew her as an _habituée_ and a constant customer of the tables. When
-she reached the roulette table itself, that veteran diplomatist, one of
-the oldest and most faithful of her admirers, the Duc de la
-Houspignolle, offered to vacate his chair, with many a protestation and
-a succession of courteous bows.
-
-"I have been unlucky, dear Mademoiselle Warrender; Fortune has frowned
-on me, but now I am far happier, for I exchange her frowns for the
-smiles of Venus."
-
-"I won't take your chair, duke," said Lucy. "I may lean upon it, and try
-to be your Mascotte and to bring you luck."
-
-But somehow or other, whether the pretty Englishwoman's presence upset
-the old gambler's calculations or not I cannot tell, but he lost, and in
-a quarter of an hour rose from his seat.
-
-"Revenge me on the Philistine, dear lady, if you can," said the old man,
-"for I am _décavé_--but don't take my unlucky chair, I pray you. You
-will?" he continued in astonishment. "Well, if you will you must; at
-all events take my card, it may help you," and he handed her the little
-card with the big black-headed pin, by means of which the experienced
-players mark and register the exact result of each successive _coup_.
-
-Lucy Warrender took the chair with a smile, and laughed gaily, as with
-the card she received a little tender squeeze from the wicked old hand,
-and then she sat down with a full determination, as the Americans put
-it, "to plank down her bottom dollar." Lucy Warrender was sitting next
-to the croupier. She handed him one of her thousand-franc notes and he
-gave her in exchange a little _rouleau_, neatly sealed at both ends,
-containing the equivalent in gold. For nearly three-quarters of an hour
-Miss Warrender confined herself to stakes of one or two Napoleons at a
-time, which she pushed out before the little glittering pile in front of
-her, and which were placed upon the desired square with wonderful
-rapidity by the obsequious croupier. It is a curious fact that your
-croupier, that well-paid but honest official, for some mysterious reason
-or other always mentally identifies himself with the bank; it gives him
-absolute pleasure to rake in the winnings, and he feels some strange
-vicarious twinge of agony when he commences the process of paying out.
-But whenever Miss Warrender won, this particular croupier pushed her
-gains towards her with a little smile, and strange to say didn't seem to
-feel it in the least. And now Lucy looked at her card. For twenty-seven
-_coups_ she had placed a single Napoleon upon the number twenty-seven.
-Of course, at roulette, some number or zero itself is bound to come up
-every time, but number twenty-seven was invariably unlucky. Lucy
-Warrender's left hand was thrust into the pocket of her dress; it
-clutched, as an Ashantee warrior clutches his fetish, the key of her
-room at the Hotel de Russie, and from the key hung its little brass
-label--it was number twenty-seven. For three-quarters of an hour then,
-and for twenty-seven _coups_, Miss Warrender had pursued her
-Will-o'-the-Wisp; the one or two Napoleons that she staked each time was
-mere child's play to her, for as we know she was in the habit of
-gambling heavily. At the twenty-eighth _coup_ Miss Warrender changed the
-amount of her stake upon the unfortunate number; for the twenty-franc
-piece she substituted a hundred-franc note and handed it to the
-croupier; he thrust it into the great glass and metal cash-box at his
-side and pushed five Napoleons on to the square marked twenty-seven.
-"_Messieurs, le jeu est fait. Rien ne va plus_," said the bald-headed
-high priest of the table, who sat exactly opposite the gentleman with
-the rake, who had so deftly carried out Miss Warrender's directions. He
-seized the big plated handle, gave it the necessary twirl as he said
-the words, and tossed the little ball of fate, with the usual
-professional spin, upon the rapidly-revolving disc. Round flew the wheel
-of fortune, and round flew the ball, making little irregular jumps. As
-the whirling disc revolves less rapidly, every eye is fixed upon the
-ball. The wheel is about to stop. The ball jumps into 15, thence into
-17. The wheel has almost stopped; the ball will surely rest in No. 23.
-No, it has not quite stopped, it goes a little further yet. Heads are
-craned forward. Lucy Warrender clutches the key of her bedroom tighter
-than ever. And then the bald-headed high priest of Baal calls out in the
-regulation monotone, "_Vingt-sept. Rouge Impair et Passe!_"
-Rhadamanthus, Minos and Æacus stretch out their rakes, and gold, notes,
-and fat five-franc pieces, which have been staked by the unhappy backers
-of black, even, the zero and the various numbers (all but twenty-seven,
-lucky twenty-seven) are swept away in an instant. Then the croupiers
-cover the stakes of the lucky backers of odd and red with their
-equivalents; nothing remains on the table now but fortunate Lucy's five
-Napoleons. The croupier at her side gives it the little professional
-knock with his rake, sweeps the five Napoleons back towards Miss
-Warrender, and counts out to her from his cash-box, with unerring
-rapidity, the sum of three thousand five hundred francs in notes. There
-is a little hum of applause. "_Faites vos jeux, messieurs."_ Down rained
-the notes, the Napoleons, the British sovereigns and the five-franc
-pieces, and the game continues with monotonous regularity.
-
-For three mortal hours Lucy Warrender clutched her hotel key, and played
-with varying success. At one time there was quite a little heap of notes
-and gold in front of her, upon which she discreetly laid her fan. She
-had steadily backed the number twenty-seven for varying but ever
-increasing amounts. The number twenty-seven had come up no less than
-eight times and had been the cause of Miss Warrender's winning heavily.
-The keenest eye at that time could have detected no wrinkle on Lucy's
-lovely girlish face. But fortune after a while ceased to favour her; the
-crowd of admiring onlookers, "the gallery," that had stood behind her
-chair attracted by her successes gradually dwindled, and the heap of
-gold and notes in front of her slowly but surely took unto themselves
-wings and flew away. But the gouty old Frenchman, the Duc de la
-Houspignolle, faithful knight that he was, still stood behind her chair.
-Old Pepper and the veteran Colonel Spurbox, of the Carabineers, still
-leered at her, in mingled pity and admiration, from the other side of
-the great roulette table. Lucy Warrender still clutched her key, and
-still backed fatal number twenty-seven; her mouth was dry and parched as
-she took out her last thousand-franc note, and, it not being permitted
-to stake that sum at roulette, she took it to the _Trente et Quarante_
-table, and lost it at a single _coup_.
-
-The lady had played her last stake and lost it. She rose to leave.
-
-"Let me be your banker, dear Miss Warrender," whispered the aged
-Mephistopheles who stood behind her chair.
-
-"No, duke, not that. I haven't quite sunk to that yet, you know."
-
-"Always _farouche_, dear Miss Warrender, but I apologize," he continued
-as he gave her his arm.
-
-Perhaps the little hand that rested on it trembled slightly, but Lucy
-was a Warrender, and plucky; she nodded and bowed in every direction;
-she smiled and simpered as sweetly as of yore; she sat in the great
-restaurant at one of the little marble tables and sucked an _orangeade
-glacée_ through two straws, and then the Duc de la Houspignolle escorted
-her back to the Hotel de Russie with all respect, where Fanchette
-anxiously awaited her arrival.
-
-Fanchette didn't ask her mistress how she had prospered, for her gesture
-as she flaccidly dropped into her lounge-chair told the woman all she
-wished to know.
-
-"You can go, Fanchette," said Lucy; "if I want anything I'll touch the
-hand-bell."
-
-The woman yawned, courtesied and departed.
-
-Lucy Warrender opened her writing-case and commenced an affectionate
-letter to her uncle. In it she said incidentally:
-
-"There are quite a number of people here that we know. The old Duc de la
-Houspignolle, still quite the old beau; and that dreadful old General
-Pepper, the man we met at Rome, and who was mixed up in Reginald's
-affair with poor Barbiche, and Colonel Spurbox. They talk of making up a
-party to run across to Nice. I think of joining them. If we go we shall
-leave the day after to-morrow; everything of course depends upon the
-weather. I----"
-
-Here Lucy Warrender deliberately let her pen fall upon the paper. Then
-she got up, looked at herself in the glass and frowned; and then she did
-a thing she hadn't done for years. She knelt down at her bed-side and
-said her prayer to heaven, the very prayer she had been accustomed to
-say as a little child upon her nurse's lap. Then she took a printed
-receipt of the _Mont de Piété_ for a pair of brilliant solitaire
-earrings, and burnt it in the flame of the candle.
-
-"No one will miss me," she muttered to herself, "no one, save Maurice
-Capt, for I have been an income to him, and Georgie, perhaps. Poor
-Georgie!" she added with a sigh. She never even thought of Lucius; she
-knew full well that even had the youth known she was his mother, _he_
-would assuredly not have missed her.
-
-"I wonder whether the old duke will be there," she continued to
-herself; "all the English are sure to come. We never miss a funeral;
-it's one of our sad pleasures," she added with a hollow laugh. Then she
-took from her dressing-case a dark blue fluted medicine bottle; it was
-labelled, "The sedative mixture, a teaspoonful for a dose at bedtime.
-POISON." The last word had a little special red label all to itself. The
-bottle was nearly full. Miss Warrender deliberately poured out
-seven-eighths of its contents into a tumbler, then she recorked the
-bottle, replaced it in her dressing-case and swallowed the contents of
-the tumbler at a draught, and then carefully and deliberately washed the
-glass and dried it with the towel. Then she sat herself down in the
-lounge-chair. In ten minutes she dozed; she soon slept peacefully and
-calmly. In half-an-hour she had ceased to exist.
-
-"On the 23rd inst., at the Hotel de Russie, Monte Carlo, Lucy, the only
-daughter of the late Colonel George Warrender, of the H. E. I. C.
-Service, aged 35, suddenly of heart-disease."
-
-This was the first intimation to Lucy Warrender's friends in London of
-her sudden death.
-
-"Poor thing!" said Mrs. Charmington, now quite the old woman, "I wonder
-how she managed that lovely-coloured hair."
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER III.
-
-  AN ANONYMOUS LETTER.
-
-
-Mrs. Haggard and her husband, both in deep mourning, sat in the special
-boudoir at Walls End Castle which had been furnished and set apart for
-his grand-nephew's wife on her first arrival years ago by old Lord Pit
-Town. Haggard looked pale and weary, and well he might, for he had gone
-straight to Monte Carlo and had come straight back, stopping only
-forty-eight hours there, just time enough to lay Lucy Warrender in her
-grave. He had not gone alone; at his wife's insistance he had taken the
-young Lucius with him. He had been astonished at the determined manner
-in which Georgie pressed this arrangement upon him; he yielded, though
-with a bad grace. When he reached the Hotel de Russie, both he and
-Lucius had declined to look on the face of the dead woman. Haggard had a
-long interview with Fanchette, and then he called upon the Commissary of
-Police. The night before his mother was laid in her grave, Lucius
-Haggard, unknown to his companion, who was shut up in his room writing,
-visited the Rooms, won a couple of thousand francs, and thoroughly
-enjoyed himself.
-
-The next day the two men stood by the side of the shallow grave; graves
-are shallow in Monaco, for the ground is very rocky. A wandering English
-clergyman, of more than doubtful reputation, gabbled through the service
-for the burial of the dead. The stones and bits of rock rattled upon the
-coffin with a hollow sound, for the grave-digger didn't trouble himself
-much about the feelings of the relatives of the foreign heretic.
-
-"I think my aunt Lucy went off tremendously in the last year," said
-young Lucius to his companion as they left the cemetery.
-
-"Let her rest, boy, let her rest," was all the answer he got.
-
-There was a sort of grey look of horror about Haggard's face, that the
-boy put down to grief for the departed. He was a hard-hearted youth, and
-was frankly surprised that Haggard showed any feeling at all.
-
-The husband and wife, as we have said, sat in Georgie's boudoir. This
-was what passed between them.
-
-"Your cousin seems to have made a nice mess of it," said Haggard. "Why
-she was penniless."
-
-"Well, that wouldn't much matter, Reginald; she could have written to
-Coutts' for more."
-
-"Gad, they write me that she drew out the last farthing she had in the
-world two months ago. And that woman Fanchette, who is a very bad lot
-indeed, or I'm very much, mistaken, told me she pawned her earrings the
-day before she--died."
-
-Georgie nodded. "I remember them, a pair of large single-stone earrings.
-I fancy she must have bought them when she first came into her property.
-I saw them quite by chance last summer, for the first time; and when I
-admired them, she said that she had had them for years, that they had
-been her first folly and had cost her dear."
-
-"Well, here they are at any rate," said Haggard; "she pawned them for
-seven thousand francs, and I redeemed them after a lot of bother. And
-that's all that remains. She had spent or gambled away every farthing of
-the rest. I don't know whether I ought to tell you, Georgie," he
-continued in a softer tone.
-
-"Tell me, Reginald, tell me what? Did you know?" and the light of love
-came back into Georgie Haggard's eyes, as she thought that perhaps her
-careless heartless husband had, from a wish to shield her cousin's
-honour, silently and deliberately allowed poor Lucy's bastard child to
-be fathered upon him. But the light quickly faded, and the eyes were
-suffused with tears, as her husband answered coarsely:
-
-"Did I know what? I know this--she poisoned herself, there's not a doubt
-of that."
-
-And then, without the slightest attempt to soften the ghastly details,
-he brutally told his wife the particulars of her cousin's end.
-
-"They manage these things much better there than here," he said. "Twelve
-Tom Fools are not called upon to sit in one's dining room and give their
-opinion. The Commissary of Police had the whole matter cut and dried. I
-saw the official doctor too--a hungry fellow that. Of course I had to
-bribe the pair of them. Lucy Warrender poisoned herself, Georgie. She
-did it artfully enough, with chloral. Why, they showed me the bottle;
-she had swallowed enough to kill half-a-dozen women. What a fool she
-was, when one comes to think of it! Why, she could have married well any
-number of times, if she'd liked; she could have had Spunyarn years and
-years ago, if she had chosen to lift her finger. What a fool she was!"
-
-Yes, that was her epitaph: "What a fool she was!" You couldn't have put
-it more tersely and more truly, Reginald Haggard. What a thoughtless
-wicked fool she had been; she had wrecked her own life and her cousin's
-by her wicked folly. "What a fool she was!"
-
-I verily believe that if Haggard had shown one spark of feeling in the
-matter of poor Lucy's death, his wife would have spoken, after a silence
-of twenty years; but his last words had checked the impulse, and Georgie
-merely nodded, while the tears rolled down her cheeks, as she silently
-accepted the justice of her husband's verdict.
-
-As she sat and pondered over her cousin's sorry ending, she felt that
-the least she could do for the dead girl was still to jealously guard
-her miserable secret.
-
-While the elders were talking, the two young men were walking in the
-great avenue that for nearly half a mile runs from the principal
-entrance of the park to the big hall door of Walls End Castle. Lucius
-had much to tell; he was full of the journey, and he went over all the
-details of the funeral to the younger man.
-
-"Battling good place, that Hotel de Russie; they gave us an uncommonly
-good dinner, and ortolans. I didn't think much of them, but the governor
-was very enthusiastic, and ordered them again for breakfast. By Jove!
-George," continued the young fellow, "he's so fond of them that I
-believe if mother, or even I, were to die to-morrow, the governor would
-order ortolans for breakfast if he could get them. I say, George," he
-added, "I'm in funds, and I don't mind doing the generous thing, if you
-like. I know you're hard up--beastly hard up--you always are. I'll make
-you a present of a pony, George."
-
-Young George Haggard smiled, and took the five-and-twenty pounds, in
-crisp bank notes, which his father's heir produced from his waistcoat
-pocket. "I'll take it as a loan, Lucius," he said with a little laugh,
-"to be repaid when I become Lord Chancellor."
-
-"All right, my boy," said the other. "Now if you can keep a secret, I'll
-tell you how I got it." And then he went off into a long description of
-the great Temple of Fortune on the shores of the Mediterranean. How he
-had retired early, on the plea of fatigue; how he had escaped
-undiscovered to the Rooms; how he had backed his luck and won his money.
-"Eighty pounds wasn't bad for a first attempt, you know," he said. "I
-saw old Pepper," he continued, "in the thick of it; but I had to keep
-dark, you know, for I shouldn't have cared for the old boy to see me
-there."
-
-George still held his brother's welcome present in his hand, and the boy
-twisted the notes nervously in his fingers. He hesitated, but not for
-long.
-
-"Don't be offended, Lucius," he said; "I think I'd rather not take it,
-if you don't mind."
-
-"As you please, my boy," said the other, holding out his hand willingly
-enough. "As they say in the schools, _Non olet_."
-
-"It does to me, Lucius--it does to me."
-
-The young men continued their walk up and down the great aisle of old
-beech trees, and Lucius returned to his ecstatic description of the
-scene in the Halls of Dazzling Delight; but I don't think the other
-young fellow heard him, for he was thinking of the dead woman who was
-sleeping in her lonely grave.
-
-Lucky Lucy! dead a week, and you have two human beings who still mourn
-your loss.
-
-"I always thought you were a fool, George; but you really are a bigger
-fool than even I ever took you to be. I actually hand you
-five-and-twenty pounds, which you decline with thanks. I don't
-understand you, George. You neglect your opportunities. Why don't you
-make up to the old man, or cultivate a taste for art, as I do; I mean to
-make art pay, my boy."
-
-"Well, you see, Lucius, it might be awkward if his lordship found me
-out. I'm afraid I find more pleasure in walking up and down this big
-avenue and staring up at the rooks, than in spending my time in the Pit
-Town galleries."
-
-"Oh! I see; Child of Nature, and all that sort of thing. Why don't you
-go in for being a poet, George? It's the only real business that I know
-of suited for a thorough-paced fool, though as a rule it don't pay."
-
-"Simply because I'm not a humbug, my boy."
-
-"You might do a good deal with a rhyming dictionary, you know;
-particularly if you let your hair grow."
-
-"I don't think there's much poetry about me, Lucius. I like the air, and
-the light, and the green leaves, and those black chaps who hop about
-from branch to branch, and who look like a lot of disreputable parsons,
-all preaching at once about nothing at all."
-
-"Oh, I see, you admire the beauties of nature. Now I look upon this old
-avenue from quite another standpoint. Sooner or later it'll be mine, and
-all the rest of the pomps and vanities too, I suppose--the plate and the
-pictures, and the title, George. Yes, there's something in a title. But
-they're a precious long while coming."
-
-"Don't be a brute, Lucius," was all his brother replied.
-
-While the two young fellows carelessly talked and smoked in the great
-avenue, old Lord Pit Town sat in his study and held a momentous
-conversation with Georgie's husband. Reginald Haggard stood before the
-fire looking exceedingly uncomfortable.
-
-"I wish you'd be candid with me, Haggard. Was there any informality
-about your marriage with Georgina?"
-
-"Good gracious, no. What makes your lordship hint at such a thing?"
-
-"That I will explain to you directly. In the meantime answer me
-honestly; don't forget that as the head of the family I stand in the
-position of a father to you. Anything you may say to me will of course
-be between ourselves. Can you assure me, as between gentlemen, that you
-made no previous marriage? Was there any such entanglement in America?"
-
-"It seems to me that your lordship is asking me to say that I am an
-unmitigated villain. Still, to satisfy you as the head of the family, I
-give you my word that nothing of the sort ever occurred. Of course like
-most young fellows I have made a fool of myself with dozens of women,
-or rather perhaps they made a fool of me. I sighed and dangled, perhaps
-I even hinted at marriage. Doubtless I was a young idiot, like most
-young fellows of my age, but my peculiar form of idiotcy never developed
-itself in a matrimonial direction."
-
-"I'm uncommonly glad to hear it, Reginald, for I have been uncomfortable
-for a day or two, and now that my mind is at rest, you shall see what
-caused my apparently indiscreet questions."
-
-The old lord opened a despatch-box which lay upon his writing-table, and
-taking from it a letter, handed the document to his heir. Haggard seated
-himself, opened the letter, and read it carefully through. It was a
-strangely written manuscript on ordinary thick note-paper. If the writer
-had intended to prevent any attempt at identification, he had thoroughly
-succeeded. The precaution he had taken was simple, but sufficiently
-ingenious. Your ordinary anonymous letter writer is content to slope his
-writing the wrong way, or if very acute he uses his left hand; but the
-expert, if placed upon his trail, generally succeeds in detecting some
-peculiarity sufficient to identify him. The writer of the letter which
-Lord Pit Town handed to Haggard was evidently a man of originality, for
-the letter and its address were not written in a running hand, but in
-carelessly printed Roman capitals.
-
-As Haggard perused the letter his brow grew black as night, but when he
-had ended it, he tossed it with a contemptuous laugh upon the table.
-
-Here is the letter _verbatim_:
-
-     "MY LORD,
-
-     "I ADDRESS YOU TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I AM POSSESSED OF INFORMATION
-     WHICH WILL ENABLE ME, SHOULD I FEEL SO DISPOSED, TO ENTIRELY ALTER
-     THE SUCCESSION TO YOUR TITLE AND TO UPSET ANY DISTRIBUTION OF YOUR
-     PROPERTY THAT YOU MAY MAKE. I AM PREPARED TO SELL TO YOU THE
-     INFORMATION FOR THE SUM OF £5000. I MAKE YOUR LORDSHIP THE FIRST
-     OFFER, SIMPLY BECAUSE I THINK THAT YOU WILL AT ONCE SEE THE WISDOM
-     OF ACCEPTING IT. SHOULD YOU DECIDE NOT TO DO SO, I SHALL STILL GET
-     MY PRICE, THOUGH I MAY HAVE TO WAIT TILL YOUR LORDSHIP'S DEATH.
-     LITIGATION WILL, OF COURSE, ENSUE, AND A DISGRACEFUL SCANDAL WILL
-     BECOME COMMON PROPERTY. SHOULD YOUR LORDSHIP FEEL DISPOSED TO
-     LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO TELL, A LINE ADDRESSED TO 193B, BROWN'S
-     NEWS ROOMS, CHEAPSIDE, WILL BE SUFFICIENT. THE FACT OF MY NOT
-     ASKING FOR PAYMENT FOR MY INFORMATION UNTIL I HAVE GIVEN IT SHOULD
-     BE TO YOUR LORDSHIP A SUFFICIENT GUARANTEE OF ITS GENUINENESS."
-
-"What can the fellow mean?" said the old lord. "Can Hetton have
-contracted a secret marriage?"
-
-Haggard shook his head. "It's probably a mere vulgar trick to obtain
-money," said he. "Shall you see the fellow?"
-
-"It would, perhaps, be better that you saw him, Reginald; you are as
-much concerned as I am, nay more so. Make an appointment to see the man
-in town. I will write to him, and if the secret he alludes to be genuine
-it is cheap at the money, if it were only to prevent expensive
-litigation and the worse horror that he hints at--the dragging of our
-name through the mire."
-
-So it was arranged. A letter was dispatched to 193 B, making an
-appointment for the astute writer of the letter to see Mr. Reginald
-Haggard upon a certain day at the old lord's house in Grosvenor Square.
-Reginald Haggard sat for a whole hour waiting in vain. Nobody came to
-him with a mysterious communication, and at the end of a week both he
-and the old lord had dismissed the matter from their minds as an
-impudent and stupid hoax.
-
-To the mind of the shrewd reader the name of the writer of the anonymous
-letter is no mystery. Mr. Maurice Capt had been seriously disappointed
-when, for the first time in his life, one of his applications to Lucy
-Warrender had been unsuccessful. But Lucy Warrender was now beyond his
-reach. Capt felt aggrieved; he considered that his demands upon Miss
-Warrender had been excessively moderate, and he felt a sort of pride in
-the fact that he had kept her secret so long and so cheaply. But now
-Lucy Warrender was dead, and the contract between Capt and the lady at
-an end. Mr. Capt, when he wrote his rather ambiguous anonymous
-communication to the old lord, had thought the matter well out; he had
-made up his mind not to reveal the nature of what he had to tell until
-he had the old lord's promise to let him have the sum he demanded. For
-Mr. Capt well knew that it is possible to provide even against
-extraordinary contingencies; he knew that there were such things as
-family treaties, and he knew that his threat, if he could only get Lord
-Pit Town to believe in its genuineness, would be only terrible to the
-old man by its rendering him practically incapable of disposing of his
-property, and leaving the very succession to his title in doubt. Mr.
-Capt was sharp enough to know that if once he had the old lord's
-promise, the five thousand pounds was as good as paid. But Mr. Capt had
-a holy horror of two things. The one, which he dreaded with a natural
-terror of the unknown, was the criminal law of England; the other was a
-desperate fear of the wrath of big Reginald Haggard. For once his master
-had lost his temper with the valet. It was nearly twenty years ago now
-since Reginald Haggard, in a moment of indignation, had literally
-thrashed Mr. Capt within an inch of his life, and though it was twenty
-years ago Mr. Capt's bones still ached with the remembrance of that
-tremendous beating. So that the suggested interview with Haggard
-entirely upset all the valet's well-arranged plans. Could he but have
-had a private conversation with the old lord, and the required promise,
-he felt that he would have proved his case up to the hilt, and thus have
-obtained what he looked upon as the honest reward of his long silence.
-But though a clever man, Mr. Capt was a coward, and he feared to face
-the fury of Lord Pit Town's heir.
-
-The valet repeatedly turned the matter over in his mind, and found it a
-very complicated question. Of course, the one person in the world to
-whom the secret was most valuable was young George Haggard. The facts
-had but to be published to the world and George would jump at once from
-the precarious position of a younger son into that of the direct heir to
-an earldom and the property of a man of enormous wealth, while as for
-Lucius, he would become but the nameless byblow of old Warrender's
-niece. But there were several disturbing influences to Mr. Capt's
-calculations. To neither of the young men could he sell his secret for
-money down. This was a very serious consideration indeed. As for George,
-he might decline to do business at all, from loyalty to his mother;
-while as for Lucius, Mr. Capt well knew that it was impossible to trust
-him. The valet at length determined that he would sound young George
-Haggard upon the matter, and having made up his mind, proceeded to do so
-at the first opportunity.
-
-Mr. Capt had not long to wait, for he encountered the young fellow in
-one of his solitary rambles in the park, and seeing that they were
-secure from interruption, plunged at once _in medias res_.
-
-Young George Haggard was seated upon a stile meditatively gazing upon
-the landscape, when he was roused by a slight cough behind him, which
-proceeded from his father's discreet body servant.
-
-"Halloa! Capt," said the youth good-naturedly; "enjoying the beauties of
-nature?"
-
-"Yes, Mr. George; one can't well help it in such a lovely place as
-this."
-
-"I suppose ordinary people like you and I, Capt, don't appreciate it as
-we ought. That, as my brother tells me, requires culture. He would
-doubtless see more in it than we do, being a man of culture, as he is,
-you know."
-
-"Perhaps the old place, sir, may look all the pleasanter to him, for in
-the ordinary course of things, you see, sir, he must come into it some
-day or other. That must be a very pleasant thought, sir," added the
-valet after a pause.
-
-"Well, I'm not so sure about that, you know; there are lots of
-responsibilities, you see," and the young man proceeded to fill his pipe
-philosophically.
-
-"You may come into it yourself, sir, one of these days, who knows?" said
-the valet in a carneying tone.
-
-Young George Haggard started, and stared at Mr. Capt, who seemed to him
-to have slightly forgotten himself.
-
-"Stranger things than that have happened, sir," continued the Swiss.
-
-"Well, you see, my man, as my father and Mr. Lucius--to say nothing of
-his lordship--would both have to go to the wall first, it doesn't seem a
-likely contingency. And do you know I don't think it's quite the thing
-to talk about, Capt."
-
-But the valet was not to be put down.
-
-"Anyhow, it's a great position for so young a gentleman as Mr. Lucius,"
-insisted the man. "Many a man has sold his soul for less than that," he
-continued, as he gazed admiringly at the Castle, which occupied the
-centre of the peacefully romantic landscape.
-
-Young George Haggard stared at the valet in undisguised astonishment.
-"Fellow's been drinking," he thought; "he seems strangely impertinent,
-that accounts for it."
-
-"Ah, they manage things differently, sir, in my country. It's share and
-share alike there. My father, sir, had seven sons, and we each of us
-took an equal share of his little bit of land as a matter of right."
-
-"Well, perhaps, Capt, that's what they'll do here when England becomes a
-republic. But I don't think that it'll happen in my time, and I don't
-think I could persuade Lucius to go halves with me."
-
-Seeing that the young man was disinclined to continue the conversation,
-the valet touched his hat respectfully and took himself off.
-
-It is a highly respectable thing to be a landowner; the freeholder has
-many advantages, but getting rid of the property, particularly in the
-present day, is as a rule both difficult and expensive. Mr. Capt was
-like the proprietor of an Irish estate; far from being able to dispose
-of it at a reasonable figure, he was unable to obtain even an offer for
-his secret, and it was a valuable secret; but then, though a white
-elephant is a valuable animal, it is not an investment that most people
-would care to hold, and Mr. Capt's property now seemed indeed but a
-white elephant. Had it not been for his holy fear of his master he might
-have attempted to make terms with Mrs. Haggard, but his terror of Lord
-Pit Town's heir was extreme and had become a second nature to him.
-
-The love of home is specially developed among the honest and economical
-inhabitants of Switzerland; like the Scotchmen they quit their dear
-native land young, in the hope of making their fortunes; but unlike the
-Scots they inevitably return to the Fatherland with the results of a
-life of industry, and this was the dream of Mr. Capt's life. Like a wise
-man, finding he could not get a cash purchaser, he determined, though
-very much against his own inclination, to make a bargain with young
-Lucius Haggard at the earliest opportunity; but he knew that if he
-trusted to the honour of Lucy Warrender's son he would be leaning upon a
-broken reed, and he walked back to the discharge of his duties at the
-Castle in a state of considerable depression.
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER IV.
-
-  PALLIDA MORS.
-
-
-It was the second of September. Reginald Haggard's usual invitations had
-been accepted by a select party of his intimates. They had had a great
-slaughter in the well-stocked Walls End preserves on the day before.
-General Pepper, Lord Spunyarn, Colonel Spurbox, the host and the two
-young men sat down to breakfast, and Georgie Haggard presided at the
-meal, looking to Spunyarn's mind handsomer than ever in the deep
-mourning which she still wore for her cousin Lucy. But Mrs. Haggard was
-not the only lady who graced the breakfast-table at the Castle, for Mrs.
-Dodd had arrived to pay a long-promised visit the day before, of course
-accompanied by her husband. As some men never travel without a hat box,
-so Mrs. Dodd never left King's Warren without the Rev. John.
-
-"I am so glad to have met you once more, Lord Spunyarn," said the
-vicar's wife; "isolated as I am at King's Warren, it is so seldom my
-privilege to meet any man having a purpose in life, and the men with a
-purpose, you know, are after all the only men worth knowing." Here she
-gave a benignant and comprehensive glance round the table, and every one
-felt that he at least was not worth Mrs. Dodd's notice, which was
-exactly the sensation the vicar's wife intended to produce.
-
-"Awfully good of you, dear Mrs. Dodd, I'm sure, but I'm afraid I can
-hardly claim the credit of being a man with a purpose. I went to the
-East End first, you know, merely from curiosity and because the people
-were excessively amusing, but nowadays 'slumming' is the fashion and a
-great many smart people I know do as I do, merely for a new sensation."
-
-"Ah, you do good by stealth and blush to find it fame," said the lady.
-
-"I don't know if you can call it doing good. I give very little of my
-money away, though I certainly do spend a good deal of my time among the
-abjectly poor. I became a sort of confidential adviser to a good many of
-them, a kind of honorary amateur solicitor. I drifted into it somehow or
-other. I acted as a sort of buffer between the East End Lazarus and his
-landlord. I was instrumental in obtaining for Lazarus certain rights
-which had been long in abeyance in the East End; either my client didn't
-know his rights, or he found them difficult to enforce; the landlords
-would screw the uttermost farthing out of the poor wretches in the shape
-of rent, and if they didn't pay they were sold up. The _quid pro quo_
-they got for their rent was simply a place to rot and die in--no water,
-no drains, no ventilation, no anything. Then there was the sweating
-system; women working fifteen or sixteen hours a day for a pittance of
-ninepence: women doing men's work and getting next to nothing for it;
-and the attempted redress of a thousand and one nameless grievances and
-horrors."
-
-"Oh, Lord Spunyarn," cried Mrs. Dodd, "would that I could walk hand in
-hand with you through those dreadful places, sharing in such work."
-
-"I have no doubt Dodd could exchange and become one of the wise men of
-the East, if he tried," said Haggard maliciously.
-
-"Ah, dear Mr. Haggard, my husband was never formed for missionary work.
-Ever since my girlhood I have tried to rouse his enthusiasm, but in
-vain. I don't believe he has any enthusiasm," and here the voice of the
-Reverend John Dodd was heard in an unctuous whisper addressing Colonel
-Spurbox in commendation of the dish in front of him, to which he helped
-himself copiously for the second time.
-
-"I'm quite certain, my dear sir, that there is no more successful way of
-accommodating the freshly-killed partridge than in a _salmi_. I say
-this advisedly, and after many years' experience. I speak feelingly,
-colonel. Till the fourth you can't do better than stick to _salmi_; I
-always do."
-
-"There's no want of enthusiasm in that, anyhow, Dodd," said Spunyarn
-with a smile, while the two young men laughed aloud.
-
-"Ah," sighed the vicaress in a stage whisper, "forgive his little
-weakness; he _will_ hanker after the flesh-pots--the flesh-pots of
-Egypt."
-
-"Be exact, my dear, be exact," cried the vicar; "it was quail, probably
-roast quail, though that is a succulent dish, that is referred to;
-certainly not _salmi_ of partridges."
-
-"Don't trifle, John," cried Mrs. Dodd.
-
-"I don't, my dear; I assure you that I am seriously, profitably and
-pleasantly employed. Good gracious me, is there anything one need be
-ashamed of in the admiration of art? And what art can be higher than
-the culinary art, which must have been necessarily one of the earliest,
-if not the very earliest of all? Some people are born without an ear for
-music; I am one of those unfortunates myself, but to make up for it I
-have been blessed by heaven with an appreciative palate. Would you have
-me neglect my advantage, would you wish me to bury my one talent in a
-napkin? Certainly not, Mrs. Dodd. Art I appreciate, especially high art,
-and I'll trouble you for a little more of the _salmi_, Dr. Wolff."
-
-"And how are things going on in the parish, Mr. Dodd?" said Georgie.
-"Are the Dissenters as active as ever?"
-
-"No, my dear madam; just now the Church is far more popular."
-
-"Thanks to organization, thanks to organization," burst in the vicar's
-wife impetuously. "Our curates' wives are admirable organizers. You
-remember the Misses Sleek, Mr. Haggard?"
-
-"That I do; uncommonly good-looking girls they were too."
-
-"Well, Mr. Haggard, it was the last thing that I should have expected,
-but they both went into the Church."
-
-"You mean that they married my curates, my dear," interrupted the vicar.
-
-"No, Mr. Dodd, I said it advisedly, they went into the Church. I suppose
-that in the old days when high-born ladies became nuns that they went
-into the Church, and in doing so vowed themselves to a life of
-self-denial. And in this present time any lady who marries a clergyman,
-Mr. Dodd, vows herself to a life of self-denial and penance, and
-certainly enters the Church. I did," she added with a sigh, "and I glory
-in it. The humble curate may rise to rank and title, but in the highly
-unlikely event of your becoming a bishop, John, I should remain plain
-Mrs. Dodd still."
-
-"Not plain, my dear--not plain."
-
-But Mrs. Dodd did not condescend to reprove him; she forgave the
-flippancy of the remark for the sake of the compliment.
-
-"The fact is," said the vicar, "that since that fellow Smiter left
-King's Warren a great many of the better-disposed of his people have
-come over to us. The services are more ornate than they were, and
-consequently more attractive. So are the sermons, I suppose. At all
-events, they are shorter. Then we've got a Sisterhood and a Young Men's
-Christian Association, who play cricket in summer and football in
-winter. Then again we use collecting bags, while at Gilgal they still
-stick to the plates. Of course the collections have dropped off to a
-mere nothing, but the congregations have increased wonderfully.
-Certainly the plates produced a healthy rivalry, but the bags, I take
-it, are less of a tax, and the congregation assuredly prefers them. It's
-a mystery to me where they get all the threepenny-pieces, and I am sorry
-to say that farthings, and even buttons, are not uncommon. Still, your
-father and Justice Sleek--everybody calls him Justice Sleek now--let us
-have all we want in the shape of money, so I suppose there's nothing to
-complain of."
-
-"Whatever my husband may say, dear Mrs. Haggard, there has been a great
-awakening, and though he may not see it, for none are so proverbially
-blind as those who won't see, I look upon it as principally due, at all
-events in my own parish, to the exertions of my own sex. My curates are
-both highly popular."
-
-"My dear, curates always are highly popular when they are married to
-wealthy good-looking young women, and their pockets consequently
-bursting, literally bursting, with half-crowns; I may add that, in my
-experience, these are the only circumstances under which married curates
-_are_ popular."
-
-"You have much to be grateful for, John."
-
-"I know it, my dear--I know it," said the vicar as he finished his
-coffee. And then the party broke up to commence the real business of the
-day.
-
-No one would have recognized in the well-appointed and terribly
-respectable head keeper who touched his hat to the party of gentlemen as
-they emerged upon the lawn, the former village reprobate--Blogg, the
-whilom King's Warren poacher. But so it was. By some strange fatality or
-other your poacher either becomes a confirmed reprobate or blossoms into
-the very best kind of gamekeeper. Perhaps it's on the principle of set a
-thief to catch a thief that those estates are best preserved where the
-head keeper has been poacher in his youth. Just as the man who has risen
-from the ranks makes the sternest martinet and the strictest
-disciplinarian, so the reformed poacher is invariably the prince of
-gamekeepers, when honest.
-
-The vicar of King's Warren was a High Churchman. I believe he would have
-ridden to hounds with pleasure but for the fact that he found it
-impossible to find anything up to his weight. But he sternly drew the
-line at carrying a gun. Though the vicar denied himself this pleasure,
-he joined the shooting party, for his intense appreciation of the
-culinary art made violent exercise a necessity of his existence.
-
-As Mrs. Haggard and the vicar's wife sat and chatted over the little
-details of life at the village of King's Warren, the happy home of the
-former's girlhood, Mrs. Haggard remarked to her companion that it was
-strange that they had not heard a shot for at least half an hour. As she
-uttered the words Lord Spunyarn entered the room, pale and out of
-breath, and evidently hardly able to control his emotion.
-
-"What! back so soon, Lord Spunyarn? Is anything the matter?" said Mrs.
-Dodd.
-
-"Something dreadful has happened."
-
-"Has there been an accident? Has anything happened to George?" cried the
-mother, and the colour left her lips as she rose excitedly.
-
-At that moment the old lord entered the room.
-
-"George is safe, dear madam," said her husband's old friend, "but I have
-hurried here as the bearer of bad news, and I must bid you prepare for
-the worst."
-
-"Gad, sir, don't keep us in suspense," cried old Lord Pit Town, with the
-irritability of age. "Is Lucius the victim?"
-
-"No, the boys are safe, dear Mrs. Haggard," he continued. "My old friend
-is badly hurt. In passing through a hedge----"
-
-But Mrs. Haggard had fainted in the arms of the vicar's wife.
-
-And then Lord Spunyarn told his tale to the old man, while Mrs. Dodd and
-the women-servants who, unsummoned, had appeared upon the scene, busied
-themselves around the fainting woman.
-
-It appeared that in getting through a hedge to pick up a bird that,
-wounded, had managed to struggle through it, Reginald Haggard's gun had
-suddenly exploded and lodged a charge of shot in his chest. It was not
-from carelessness; but Haggard's foot had caught in a rabbit burrow, and
-as he fell the accident happened. Before their eyes the thing had taken
-place. There was nothing mysterious about it. It was terribly sudden,
-that was all.
-
-Hardly had Spunyarn told his tale when Mrs. Haggard came to herself.
-Tearless and wan she rose to her feet, and taking the old earl's arm,
-she said simply but in a broken voice, "Let us go to him--let us go to
-him at once, Lord Pit Town; there may be hope--there may be hope yet."
-
-The old man looked towards Spunyarn interrogatively, but a shake of the
-head was the only response.
-
-Mrs. Haggard hadn't to go far to meet her wounded husband, for as they
-passed into the great entrance hall of the Castle a melancholy little
-procession came in by the main doorway. Four keepers bore a hurdle, upon
-which lay Lord Pit Town's wounded heir. His face was pale, the lips
-bloodless, while cold drops stood upon his brow. The four men halted,
-uncertain where to deposit their burden. Georgie Haggard, quitting the
-old lord's arm, sprang at once to her husband's side, seized his hand,
-and attempted to wipe the death drops from his brow.
-
-"Don't touch me, Georgie," he muttered, and the voice sounded unequal
-and cavernous. "I've suffered untold tortures in being brought here,"
-and his pale fingers, whose nails had become livid, vainly fumbled at
-his collar. The faithful wife tenderly loosened the band, which appeared
-to almost strangle him. "Georgie," he continued to his wife, "where is
-Spunyarn? I must speak with him at once."
-
-He who had been his faithful friend from youth to middle age stepped
-forward and bent his head over the mouth of the dying man, for he was
-dying. For several seconds Haggard whispered a hurried communication to
-his friend, while the bystanders, including the old lord and Haggard's
-wife, stood aside, so as not to interrupt the privacy of the
-communication. Ever and anon Haggard paused for breath.
-
-"Shirtings," he said at last, "you will remember?"
-
-"I will see to it, be assured of that," replied his friend, Lord
-Spunyarn. And then Haggard motioned the old earl to his side, and
-addressed him with considerable effort.
-
-They had dragged forward a couple of oaken benches, and had placed them
-one under either end of the hurdle upon which Haggard lay. There was a
-dead silence in the great entrance hall, only broken by a loud
-succession of regular ticks, caused by Haggard's life blood, which in
-great drops fell upon the tesselated pavement below with a monotonously
-dreadful sound.
-
-"Good-bye, my lord," he said simply, as with an effort he stretched out
-his hand, which was affectionately grasped by the trembling fingers of
-the old nobleman. "I am going," he continued, "but you have the boys, my
-boys."
-
-"Perhaps it's not so bad as you think, Reginald. Assistance will be here
-shortly. We will move you out of this at once."
-
-"There won't be time, Lord Pit Town. Take care of Lucius."
-
-The dying man's eyes fell upon his wife, and a smile passed over his
-pale face. "Georgie," he gasped out with an effort, "say you forgive me
-and I shall die easier."
-
-"Reginald," she whispered, "I have nothing to forgive, but," she added
-through her sobs, "there is something I must tell you."
-
-"I know it, Georgie. I have known it all along. Kiss me, dear," he added
-with an effort, and with the kiss his spirit passed away.
-
-Reginald Haggard was dead, stricken down ere he could succeed to the
-title and estates which would have been his in the ordinary course of
-nature; but as the aged earl turned away from the body of the man who
-had been his heir, his eye fell upon the two young men, and motioning to
-Lucius he said in a broken voice, "Give me your arm, boy; you're all I
-have left in the world now."
-
-All sign of grief left Lucius Haggard's face at this public notification
-of his change of position. He drew himself up proudly, and deferentially
-led the old man away. But young George Haggard didn't hear the words; he
-stood staring at his dead father, like a man in a dream.
-
-"Is there no hope?" he said to those who crowded round the hurdle upon
-which the body lay. The ominous tick of the falling blood had ceased
-now, and as if in answer to the young fellow's question, the dead man's
-jaw fell, disclosing the white teeth. Then George Haggard turned to his
-mother, and at a sign from Spunyarn he led her from the spot.
-
-As soon as Mrs. Haggard found herself alone, she gave way to her natural
-grief. The hero of her girlish dreams had been snatched from her
-suddenly, so suddenly that she could hardly realize that he was actually
-gone from her for ever. She had continued to idolize the man and to
-remain unaware of his many deficiencies and failings, from the very
-moment he had first courted her in the rose garden at King's Warren
-until his death. He had been a fairly good husband to her, as husbands
-go, and she had never ceased to love him with a trusting affection. But
-bewildered as she was by the suddenness of her affliction, she could not
-help pondering over the strange communication he had made to her upon
-his death-bed.
-
-"_I have known it all along!_" What had he known all along? Had he known
-that Lucius, instead of being his own son was but the bastard child of
-Lucy Warrender? Surely not. What could he mean, if he had known it all
-along, by his solemn adjuration to old Lord Pit Town to take care of
-Lucius. There could be but one interpretation to that, surely that he
-looked upon the boy as his eldest son, his heir, his first-born child.
-Why had her husband asked her to forgive him on his death-bed? Forgive
-him what? He had not bade good-bye to either of the young fellows, but
-then death had probably come upon him unawares. Could it possibly be
-that her dead husband, man of the world as he was, could have
-deliberately, for the mere sake of her cousin's honour, sacrificed the
-future of his only son designedly, and without that son's consent? That
-supposition was beyond even Georgina Haggard's credulity.
-
-There was a mystery in the matter, a mystery she could not fathom. The
-more she thought over it, the more difficult she found it to attempt to
-arrive at any possible solution. Was it merely that he feared that
-George, being really his only child, that at the boy's death without
-heirs the Pit Town title and the Pit Town wealth should descend to some
-remote branch of the family, and so perhaps he may of a purpose have
-placed the second good young life between the old lord and his distant
-relatives? But that was hardly likely, for such a contingency could
-never happen till George was in his grave; and Haggard himself, be it
-remembered, was a wealthy man.
-
-What then was Lucy Warrender's son to him?
-
-Could it be that he had a stronger, a dearer interest in the child? But
-she thrust it from her as an unworthy thought; and she strove to banish
-the phantom she had unwittingly conjured up, by letting her mind return
-once more to its natural grief, in the thought of her awful bereavement,
-her sudden widowhood.
-
-Reginald Haggard's death and Reginald Haggard's funeral were a nine
-days' wonder in the neighbourhood of Walls End Castle. Hundreds of
-people clad in black attended the ceremony. The old lord, the two young
-men and Lord Spunyarn were the mourners. The shooting party had been
-broken up on the day of the accident. A short obituary notice had
-appeared in the _Times_, and the penny papers had made capital of what
-they termed "The Shocking Accident in the Shooting Field," while the
-leader writers had earned their daily three guineas by more or less
-ingenious strings of the usual platitudes.
-
-Lord Spunyarn was Haggard's sole executor. The will was opened, and
-commenced with a confirmation of the terms of his marriage settlement;
-it then proceeded to give a further legacy to his wife of half his
-property for her lifetime, and he made his "dear son, George Haggard,"
-his residuary legatee; "my son, Lucius Haggard," the document
-continued, "being otherwise provided for as the heir to the entailed
-estates of Lord Pit Town."
-
-It was all plain sailing, and the will was a very natural one for a man
-in Haggard's position to make.
-
-Lord Spunyarn, who was still staying on at the Castle, waited for
-twenty-four hours after the funeral, and then he demanded a private
-interview with his friend's widow.
-
-"I am sorry to trouble you, dear Mrs. Haggard, about business matters,"
-he said as he entered the little boudoir which years ago had been
-devoted by the old lord to young Mrs. Haggard's use, "but I am compelled
-to worry you with a long and painful conversation on family matters. My
-dear lady," he continued, "I should have been the very last person to
-trouble you with the communication which I am about to make, had it not
-been my friend's dying wish and command."
-
-"Sit down, Lord Spunyarn, sit down," she said, "nothing you can have to
-tell me can be more painful than the suspense, suspicion, and anxiety of
-mind which I have endured for the last few days. Tell me the worst at
-once. I have nothing to forgive my husband. When on his death-bed he
-asked for my forgiveness, I feared that there was something dreadful to
-come; but I fully and freely forgave him, Lord Spunyarn, and whatever
-you may have to tell, it will not alter my affection for his memory."
-
-"Dear Mrs. Haggard," said the philanthropist, with a little sigh, "the
-matter concerns the future, as well as the past; the secret has been
-well kept, and my poor friend has done his duty in providing for his son
-George, and for you. I must tell you that at one time I had my
-suspicions, but the thing seemed in itself so monstrous, so improbable,
-that I put it from me as an unworthy thought. When your late husband
-whispered those last words to me as he was dying, he informed me that I
-was his executor, and told me to examine a little red box that I should
-find at his banker's, and then to tell you everything. I obtained the
-box; I have examined it, and it is here." As he said the words, he
-placed a little red morocco box upon the table.
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER V.
-
-  A LITTLE RED BOX.
-
-
-I don't think Lord Spunyarn could have really found it cold in Mrs.
-Haggard's boudoir in the second week of September; perhaps it was for
-the sake of collecting his ideas that he busied himself with the fire
-and added another toy log to the flickering embers upon the dainty
-hearth; then he sat down, and staring straight at the little red morocco
-box upon the table, he began.
-
-"I think it may perhaps spare your feelings a little, dear Mrs. Haggard,
-if I tell you that from what my poor friend said, and from the contents
-of this box, I have become aware of the secret of Lucius's birth." He
-never took his eyes off the box for one instant, or he would have seen
-as he said the words that the widow's face grew white as the lawn cuffs
-upon her wrists.
-
-She interrupted him suddenly.
-
-"It is not I who have betrayed the secret. I have guarded it faithfully
-for twenty years, God forgive me," she added with a sigh. "But what
-could I do? I was bound to shield my cousin, even if I had not sworn to
-her to do so; for she would not take my word for it, Lord Spunyarn. No
-hint of it has ever passed my lips. Conceive my astonishment when my
-dying husband told me that he was aware of the fact, for I suppose it
-was that he meant, when he said to me, with almost his last breath, that
-he had 'known it all along.'"
-
-"Yes," said her husband's old friend, still staring at the little red
-box, "and then?"
-
-"And then he died, Lord Spunyarn," she said with a sigh; "but he had
-asked me to forgive him, and to take care of Lucius."
-
-"And did you forgive him, dear madam?"
-
-"Of course I forgave him."
-
-"And you forgive him still?"
-
-"Certainly, though what it was he wished me to forgive I cannot tell."
-
-But Lord Spunyarn never looked at her; he only stared at the box upon
-the table. "I'm glad you forgave him," he said, "fully and freely."
-
-"Fully and freely," she echoed.
-
-"Mrs. Haggard, you had much to forgive. When you promised to take care
-of Lucius, had you any idea whose son he was?"
-
-"No, Lord Spunyarn, nor have I now; poor Lucy would never tell me that,
-and I never pressed her, for it did not concern me."
-
-"It concerned you very nearly, dear madam."
-
-Their eyes met, and those of the widow were filled with mingled
-astonishment and horror.
-
-"No, Lord Spunyarn; do not tell me that Lucius's father was----" and her
-eyes flashed with indignant rage.
-
-"It is best to get it over--_he was your husband_!"
-
-There was a dead silence of some seconds.
-
-"Go on, Lord Spunyarn," said the widow in a hollow voice; "then I am
-guiltless at least of deceiving him for years. It is horrible!" But she
-shed no tear.
-
-"Your husband, dear lady, when he was dying, gave it in charge to me to
-let you see the contents of this box, which, he too truly said, would
-explain all. I, too, at times, had my suspicions; for remember this, I
-too loved your cousin long ago, and your husband was my dearest friend."
-The man buried his face in his hands and was silent for a moment; he
-pulled himself together with an effort. "When I saw what the box
-contained, the whole ghastly secret was laid bare to me in an instant.
-You remember when we were in Rome, by chance, by merest chance, I saw
-your husband at a masked ball with a lady; at that ball arose the
-quarrel between your husband and the unfortunate Frenchman who fell by
-his hand. The box will tell you the rest. The masked lady wore a
-magnificent pair of single-stone diamond earrings." Spunyarn unlocked
-the box, placed it in front of his friend's widow and walked to the
-window.
-
-With trembling fingers Mrs. Haggard opened it. There was a little packet
-of letters in Lucy Warrender's undeveloped girlish hand, the ink of
-which had faded; then a pair of single-stone brilliant earrings, which
-sparkled and shimmered in the firelight, as the widow took them in her
-trembling fingers; to one of them was still attached the duplicate of
-the _Mont de Piété_, dated the very day of her cousin's death. Last of
-all was a little purple velvet case on which was her husband's monogram
-with the single word "Rome," and a date just over twenty years ago. She
-opened it with difficulty; in it was a lovely miniature, not a mere
-photographer's likeness, of her cousin Lucy in all the pride of her
-girlish beauty, as a shepherdess, in powdered hair and in a Watteau
-costume. The face seemed to smile at her with an air of insolent
-triumph, that old smile of Lucy's which her cousin remembered so well in
-the days gone by, but which she had missed for many a long year. The
-painter had not forgotten to place in the ears of the shepherdess a pair
-of single-stone earrings; in the hand was the ordinary black silk vizard
-worn at masquerades, and the shepherdess was depicted in the act of
-unmasking. Nothing more pretty, nothing more piquant, nothing more
-_chic_ could be imagined. The widow placed the miniature upon the table,
-and as she did so a single object still remaining in the box caught her
-eye. It was only a little black silk mask, and from the two holes in the
-toy, in her disordered imagination, the eyes of her dead cousin still
-seemed to sparkle with a mocking light. She dropped the miniature into
-the box and closed the lid which shut out the horrid phantom.
-
-As the box closed with an angry click, Lord Spunyarn turned towards the
-victim of her husband's perfidy.
-
-"There is no need of explanation; my husband was right. I understand it
-all, but I forgave him, Lord Spunyarn, and I forgive him still. Poor
-Lucius!"
-
-This was all she said.
-
-Spunyarn resumed his seat at the fireside. Then there was a long
-silence, which neither seemed disposed to break.
-
-At last with an effort he spoke. "What is to be done, dear madam? I wish
-the secret had remained in the dead man's keeping; it is a dreadful
-responsibility. Can it be still kept?"
-
-"It is my duty towards my dead husband, Lord Spunyarn," she said
-decisively.
-
-"But you have another duty, dear lady; a duty to your son and a duty to
-the old man here, who looks on Lucius as his heir."
-
-"My son must suffer with me, Lord Spunyarn, for his father's fault."
-
-Spunyarn shook his head. "Not so, dear lady; there is but one way, one
-possible way, to preserve the reputation of those who are gone and to do
-justice, for justice must be done. Pit Town must know; for others,
-taking the lowest standpoint, may possess the secret, and the honour of
-the family must not be compromised. Lucius must efface himself, that is
-the only course."
-
-"Efface himself, Lord Spunyarn? I know the boy, the orphan boy; he was
-my husband's child; and with all his faults I love him; he will never
-consent to that; he would die first," said Reginald Haggard's widow.
-
-"And die he must, I mean socially. There is no other way."
-
-"He will never consent, Lord Spunyarn," repeated the widow. "He is
-wrapped up in the fact that he is Lord Pit Town's heir. With George it
-is different; he is my own son, my very son," she added bitterly, "and,
-if I wish it, he will give up everything for my sake and his father's;
-his father's honour is as dear to him as it is to me. Besides, my
-husband evidently foresaw the dilemma in which he has placed us, and
-made the boy his heir."
-
-"But justice, dear lady, justice----"
-
-"Justice, Lord Spunyarn," cried the indignant woman as she rose to her
-feet. "God's justice, do you mean, or man's? Is it not enough that my
-husband should have betrayed and befooled me for twenty years, and
-should have robbed my boy of his very heritage, and more than that, of
-half the treasure of a mother's love? For I tell you, strange and
-unnatural as it may seem, that I love Lucius; ay, I love him, though he
-is poor Lucy's child and my husband's bastard. And who could help loving
-the poor helpless, friendless, neglected child? Yes, I acted the love at
-first, Lord Spunyarn, and it grew upon me till it became a part of
-myself. Is it for nothing, that when my husband was bleeding to death
-before my very eyes, that he bade me take care of Lucius? I have been a
-faithful and obedient wife, Lord Spunyarn, and I will obey my husband's
-last behest to the letter. I will protect his son's interests and his
-son's rights."
-
-"Alas, he has no rights, dear madam," said Spunyarn gently.
-
-"The secret, Lord Spunyarn, is not yours or mine; it is my husband's and
-hers," she added, pointing to the box. "When she made me swear to keep
-her secret, she threatened to haunt me should I betray her. How could I
-answer her? It was a girl's idle jest, I know; but I did swear it, God
-knows how unwillingly, and Heaven help me I will keep my oath. Yes, I
-will keep my oath," here she sank into a chair, and covering her face
-with her hands, wept bitterly.
-
-Lord Spunyarn paced the room in doubt. He was a man of principle, a
-religious man, a man of honour--strange combination forsooth in this
-nineteenth century, and he remembered that his mouth was closed. But was
-he, a good man, to stand idly by and see a great wrong done? Was he to
-see the honours and title of a noble family descend to a bastard through
-the secret machinations of an artful woman? Heaven forbid!
-
-"Think it over, dear madam, think it over," he said; "let me beg you, at
-least, to sleep on it, and God give you counsel," he added in a broken
-voice, and then leaving the little red box and its contents upon the
-table where it lay, he hurriedly left the room.
-
-While the interview which has been described was taking place, the two
-young men were walking briskly up and down the great avenue, which was
-already yellowing with commencing autumn.
-
-It was Lucius who spoke.
-
-"We have changed places, George, with a vengeance; it is I who am the
-pauper now. If my father meant to surprise me, he certainly succeeded.
-You are the man of property, George, while I am rich only in
-expectations. Thank goodness, neither my father, the old man, nor any
-one else can keep me out of the title and the entailed property; but
-there may be a deuce of a long time to wait. By Jove! you know these
-very old men don't die, they dry up. Why, look at grandfather Warrender.
-It's a horrid nuisance this mourning, though I shall be heartily glad
-when I have to go into black next time. His lordship is a decided
-obstructionist;" so spoke the elder brother, as he blew a big cloud of
-smoke into the air.
-
-"Don't pretend to be a brute, Lucius; you don't mean it, you know, old
-fellow," said George.
-
-"But I do mean it, though. There's no more ridiculous custom than
-mourning. It's a monstrous thing and ought to be done away with by act
-of parliament, like suttee in India was--we could see the absurdity of
-that. We have a kind of modified suttee here. Why, look at mother! Why
-should she have to dress herself like a guy? It's a ridiculous custom, I
-say. Why should I have to wear black gloves in order that I may exhibit
-my woe by the stains on my fingers? And why should I be compelled to
-look like a British working man out for a holiday, and pass the greater
-part of my time in flicking the dust off my clothes? I've been badly
-treated, George, and now I find myself pitchforked into a ridiculous
-position. Here I am, heir to a title and any amount of coin, and without
-a farthing I can call my own. I wonder whether the old man will think
-fit to make me an allowance; he gave Hetton a big one, I have always
-heard. Do you suppose I offended the governor, George?"
-
-"No; the will was made several years ago, you know, when we were boys."
-
-"Well, it's uncommonly rough. Anyhow, you'll allow that, I suppose; and
-I confess I don't care for the _rôle_ of a waiter upon Providence. The
-only thing I seem to have inherited at all is Capt, and I shall rid
-myself of him at the earliest opportunity; he must have saved a pile of
-money; he ought to go back to Switzerland and start an hotel. They all
-do, I believe, when they don't cut their master's throats as Courvoisier
-did. By Jove! I wonder whether Capt would lend me any money? If he
-won't, I must try the Jews. Why, since the governor died, I've been
-inundated with circulars from the house of Israel."
-
-"You needn't trouble about money, Lucius; you can have anything you want
-from me, you know."
-
-"It's very good of you to say so, George; but as I shall have to go to
-the Jews sooner or later, it's hardly worth while spunging upon you. I
-may as well take the bull by the horns at once. Though, between
-ourselves, I don't see why my mother shouldn't do something for me, and
-so circumvent the governor's injustice. You and she got all the plunder
-between you."
-
-"Don't talk like that, Lucius. It's not right. It's hard on you, very
-hard; but I wouldn't have anything to do with money-lenders if I were
-you."
-
-"Oh, of course not; that's the good advice all you wealthy fellows
-always give us poor devils; it's the way of the world."
-
-"You're not fair, Lucius; we are both under age, but this you can rely
-on, till you come into your own, at all events, you're welcome to share
-my purse."
-
-"Do you really mean that, George?"
-
-"Of course I mean it, or I shouldn't say it."
-
-"I didn't believe you were half the good fellow that you are, my boy.
-Let's shake hands on it," and the two young fellows shook hands, but
-George's generosity was a bitter pill indeed to Lucius Haggard.
-
-Mr. Maurice Capt did not find himself comfortable under the new
-_régime_. He was still Mr. Haggard's man, but things were changed; he
-disliked his new master, and his sharp eyes soon detected that the
-dislike was more than reciprocated. When Lucy Warrender died, what he
-looked upon as a legitimate source of income he suddenly found closed to
-him for ever. The proprietor of a valuable secret is naturally anxious
-to secure the best return possible from his property, but unfortunately
-in Mr. Capt's case dividends may be said to have ceased. As he turned
-the matter over in his mind he disliked his investment more and more.
-It seemed to have assumed the aspect of a very unpromising property
-indeed. What was he to do? The terms of Reginald Haggard's will were no
-secret to him, for, in his first rage and mortification, the young
-Lucius had confided his woes to his late father's confidential servant.
-Should he, the valet, hang on at Walls End Castle for an indefinite
-period, until Lucy Warrender's son should come into the old lord's
-property, when he would be able to recommence the blackmailing process
-which he had so successfully carried out upon the young man's mother? He
-knew enough of the character of Lucius Haggard to feel certain that the
-power he would possess in such a case would be boundless. But Mr. Capt
-was no longer a young man; he, like his master, might die suddenly, and
-then the secret would die with him. That miserable anticipation filled
-him with horror and indignation. Should he go to the widow, inform her
-that he shared her secret, and, for a good round sum in ready money,
-sell his silence, and of course betray her as soon as he found it
-convenient to do so? Should he go to the old earl, and make the best
-bargain he could under the circumstances? He was torn by conflicting
-doubts. Mr. Capt had an observant eye; he had noticed that there had
-been an exciting interview between the widow and her late husband's
-executor, and he became aware of the fact that a little red morocco box,
-which in the old days had usually accompanied his master upon his
-travels, had passed into Mrs. Haggard's personal custody. Intuitively,
-he correctly jumped to the conclusion, that in some way or other, the
-red morocco box was connected with the secret of Lucius Haggard's birth.
-Mr. Capt felt then that it was his duty, as a prudent man, to ascertain
-the nature of the contents of the box, or even to obtain possession of
-it. Promptitude as well as firmness had characterised every action of
-Mr. Capt's life; with him to determine was to execute, and he made up
-his mind not to rest until he had mastered the secret of the box, and
-that his subsequent action should be guided by the information so
-obtained.
-
-Reginald Haggard was a wise man, a man who burnt his letters, a man who
-was as a rule untroubled by sentiment. The one episode in his early life
-over which, to him, there had still hung a sort of unhealthy halo of
-romance, was the affair with Lucy Warrender. Many a time and oft had
-common sense urged him to commit the contents of the little red box to
-the flames; but he knew too well that somehow or another his wife had
-become the involuntary accomplice of her cousin's fault. He had not
-burned the contents of the box; if he had done so the secret, as far as
-he was concerned, would probably have died with him; but he had not
-burned it. Hence his whispered death-bed confession to his friend
-Spunyarn, and his appeal to his wife for forgiveness.
-
-Mrs. Haggard had turned the matter over in her mind again and again. To
-her it seemed unnecessary to rake up an old scandal, at least during
-Lord Pit Town's life; the propriety of letting sleeping dogs lie
-commended itself very strongly to her mind. She herself was quite
-convinced that when it became necessary to communicate the secret to
-young Lucius Haggard things would right themselves without a scandal. Of
-course Lucius would do what was right, and so would George for the
-matter of that. Spunyarn's suggestion that Lucius Haggard should "efface
-himself," and so voluntarily suffer a social death, seemed to her but a
-brutal and inhuman method of cutting the Gordian knot. She had never
-again opened the little red box, since she had closed it on the occasion
-of her interview with her husband's executor. To her mind the simplest
-thing of all would have been to do away with the box and its contents,
-but she gave way to the better judgment of Spunyarn in this matter. On
-one thing, however, she was determined: by no act of hers should her
-dead cousin's shameful secret be dragged into the light of day; and so
-she made up her mind to communicate her decision to Spunyarn, and to
-deliver the box to him for safety.
-
-Lord Spunyarn's reflections upon the whole matter convinced him of one
-thing--his own unenviable position. To his mind the matter was
-thoroughly clear, and his own duty peremptorily defined. He had received
-the secret as a death bed confidence; there could be no doubt as to the
-mystery of Lucius Haggard's birth. It was certainly not for him to stand
-calmly by and see the Pit Town title and the Pit Town estates pass to
-Reginald Haggard's bastard son. It was his duty to take the old lord
-into his confidence and to break the matter to the brothers. His own
-evidence and that of George's mother, coupled with the contents of the
-box, would set the facts at rest beyond a doubt. If young Lucius were
-an honourable man he would not attempt to make matters worse by a
-useless contest in the Law Courts, but would doubtless of his own accord
-see the wisdom of disappearing into an honourable obscurity, while Lord
-Pit Town and George Haggard would, of course, provide for him. He felt
-assured that having had time for reflection Mrs. Haggard herself would
-inevitably consent to this, the only possible course of action. As to
-her scruples respecting her cousin's secret, they would be overcome. It
-was then with a mind fully made up that Lord Spunyarn demanded a second
-interview with his dead friend's widow, and he requested young Lucius
-Haggard to await his summons to speak with them "on a matter which," as
-he phrased it, "concerns you nearly."
-
-He found Mrs. Haggard comparatively cheerful.
-
-"I have thought it all over, Lord Spunyarn," she said. "You were my
-husband's friend. I place myself in your hands unreservedly."
-
-Spunyarn gave a sigh of relief, and then he proceeded to sketch the
-course of action which we have given above.
-
-"We will tell no one, dear Mrs. Haggard. George himself need never know.
-The whole thing can be a simple matter of arrangement. Of course Lucius
-must know all, and Pit Town. I purpose to break it to Lucius at once,
-and to him at least your cousin's name need never be mentioned. He is
-his father's son after all."
-
-"His father's son," she said with a sigh. "Yes, his father's son," she
-repeated with meaning. "Must it be done to-day?"
-
-"Don't let us procrastinate, dear lady. Shall I send for him? He is
-awaiting our summons."
-
-The widow nodded, and Spunyarn went to seek the youth, who in a few
-minutes was to be stripped of name and fame and wealth.
-
-So far from suspecting a communication of an unpleasant nature, young
-Lucius Haggard, his face wreathed in anticipatory smiles, was
-impatiently drumming upon the window-pane in the library with his
-finger-tips. It seemed to him that this formal interview with his mother
-and his father's executor could have but one object, namely, to announce
-to him that a suitable provision was to be made for the heir to the Pit
-Town title during the short time that must necessarily elapse ere he
-should come into his heritage. But his anticipations were considerably
-damped by Lord Spunyarn's first words. The elder man placed his hand
-affectionately upon the young fellow's shoulder.
-
-"Lucius, my poor boy," he said, "prepare yourself for a surprise, and a
-great disappointment," he added ominously.
-
-The happy smile of anticipation left the young fellow's face as he heard
-the words.
-
-"Well, Lord Spunyarn," he said, "when my father cut me off without even
-the proverbial shilling, I thought he had done the worst he could for
-me."
-
-Lord Spunyarn took no notice of the remark.
-
-"My poor fellow," he said, "steel yourself to hear what I have to tell
-you. I will tell you now," he added, "to spare your poor mother the pain
-and horror of having the sad story repeated in her presence. Lucius," he
-said solemnly, "you are no longer the heir to the Pit Town title, and
-all that goes with it."
-
-"Good heavens!" cried the young man as he sank into a chair, "it can't
-be true. Did Hetton contract a secret marriage, and is there a son? Does
-the old man know of it?"
-
-"It isn't that, Lucius. Compose yourself," Spunyarn added after a short
-pause, "and listen to what I have to tell you. This thing concerns you
-and your brother only. Lucius, bear it like a man, but, my poor boy,
-you are illegitimate."
-
-"Did my mother dare----" he began, but Spunyarn stopped him with a
-gesture.
-
-"Lucius," he said severely, "the lady who has allowed you to call her
-mother from the time you were a little child, did so out of kindness;
-speak no ill word of her, my boy, for to her you owe everything, to her
-love, and to her forbearance."
-
-"Great God! Lord Spunyarn, it can't be true, there is some base plot in
-the matter. Who is the heir, the man who calls himself the heir, I
-mean?" he asked fiercely, and he clenched his hands; and his eyes, Lucy
-Warrender's eyes, sparkled with mingled rage and hate. "We shall contest
-the thing, of course?"
-
-"The heir, Lucius, the rightful heir, is your brother George; he was
-born in wedlock, while you, alas, though your father's son, are----"
-
-"Not base born; don't say that, Lord Spunyarn."
-
-But Spunyarn nodded sadly.
-
-"I won't believe it, Lord Spunyarn," almost shouted the young man with
-uncontrollable fury. "Have you, my father and my mother, been hatching
-this infernal plot between you all these years? Can the dead man's hand
-strike me, even from beyond the grave? I won't believe it, it isn't
-true. I'll fight it in the Courts. What does Lord Pit Town say? Does he
-give a tacit consent to my undoing?"
-
-"Pit Town as yet knows nothing. Lucius, try to be calm. Listen to me,"
-and as gently as he could he broke to the indignant boy the dismal fact
-of his heritage of shame, that he was but Reginald Haggard's love-child
-after all.
-
-"And my mother?" said the boy in a broken voice.
-
-"No need to speak of her, Lucius; she is dead."
-
-"Have you the proofs, Lord Spunyarn, of all this?" said the boy more
-calmly, after he had listened to Spunyarn's narrative in silence. "It'll
-have to be proved, you know, proved to the hilt; that at least is my
-right, and I'll not forego it."
-
-"Lucius, you have no rights."
-
-"I must see the proofs, at least."
-
-"Yes, you must see them, I suppose, but spare your mother, Lucius; she
-is broken down with grief and suffering."
-
-"Lord Spunyarn," said the boy coldly, "you say she is not my mother; why
-should I spare the feelings of my father's accomplice? Feelings
-forsooth;" and he laughed bitterly.
-
-"Lucius, you are mad. Let me beseech you, as a gentleman, in the painful
-interview that must take place, to spare your father's widow as much as
-possible. Deal gently with her, boy; it is she who has been the victim
-in the whole matter."
-
-"Don't bandy words with me, Lord Spunyarn," cried the young man, and
-for the moment the impetuous Reginald Haggard of bygone years seemed to
-stand before the astonished nobleman in the very flesh. "You tell me,"
-he continued in a calmer tone, "that George Haggard is the heir, that I
-am but my father's base-born child. Show me the proofs of this and I'll
-believe it; till then, Lord Spunyarn, I simply say you lie," and the
-young man bowed defiantly. "Let us go," he continued, "to the clever
-woman who has hoodwinked me for a lifetime. I follow you, sir."
-
-Lord Spunyarn made no reply, but led the way to the widow's boudoir.
-
-As they entered, Mrs. Haggard rose and opened her arms to Lucius, but
-she sunk again into her chair, staring with sad astonishment at the
-extraordinary transformation that had been suddenly effected in the
-young man. His dead father, in an access of furious passion, seemed to
-stand before her. No answering look of affection was upon his face; the
-young mouth was firmly set, and the eyes glittered with savage defiance.
-
-"Lucius," she said with an effort, "dear Lucius."
-
-"Madam," he replied, as, uninvited, he seated himself with an attempt at
-dignity, "his lordship has inflicted upon me a strange and improbable
-story. I have told him, and I do honestly believe it, that that wild
-story is a lie, a wicked lie. He tells me that you hold the proofs. Let
-me then see these proofs, that I may make him my humble apologies, and
-go out from your presence into the world a nameless beggar. But you will
-please remember that you will find it difficult to deceive me, and to
-deceive Lord Pit Town, for you must cheat us both."
-
-"Lucius," said Mrs. Haggard in a broken voice.
-
-But Lord Spunyarn interrupted her. "I had hoped, dear lady," he said,
-"to have spared you such a scene as this; let me deal with him, Mrs.
-Haggard. The proofs, Lucius," he added, "are here. I myself can supply
-the few missing links in the chain of evidence. It is but natural,
-perhaps," he said, "and you have, as you say, a right to see these sad
-proofs, unhappy boy, of the miserable folly and wickedness of your real
-parents. Look at them, then; examine them for yourself, and then you
-cannot fail to be convinced that I have not lied to you after all."
-
-He turned the key in the lock and softly opened the box; then the
-astonished man gave a sudden start and placed his hand to his forehead.
-
-Young Lucius Haggard rose to his feet, and laughed a loud, indignant,
-mocking laugh.
-
-_The box was empty!_
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER VI.
-
-  LUCIUS HAGGARD IS BEWILDERED.
-
-
-John, Earl of Pit Town, was above all things an art-worshipper. He was
-never tired of perambulating the great galleries of Pit Town Castle and
-admiring the collection, which it had been his life-long labour of love
-to bring together. When his son, the late Lord Hetton, had come to his
-sudden and dreadful end, the old man had felt the blow severely; when
-his heir, Reginald Haggard, had been snatched away in the pride of his
-manhood, it had affected him in a less degree; but he had felt the blow
-from its very suddenness. Ever since Reginald Haggard's wife had come to
-live at the Castle, he had ceased to feel that he was alone in the
-world, and a deep affection had sprung up between the two. As for
-Haggard's boys, now bursting into early manhood, he loved them somewhat
-for themselves, but still more for the sake of the woman who had been a
-daughter to him, and the stay and comfort of his waning years. Always
-orderly and methodical, he had settled the ultimate disposition of his
-property with justice and discretion. He was immensely wealthy. As we
-have said, the entailed property was extremely large, but was exceeded
-in actual money value by the great mineral wealth which was disposable
-by will. The value of several ordinary estates, too, was locked up in
-the vast collection contained in the new galleries.
-
-The future possessor of the Pit Town title would be a lucky man indeed
-if he got the treasures so laboriously accumulated, during his long
-lifetime, by old Lord Pit Town. The old man lived by strict rule. He had
-a curious theory that, barring accidents, the span of human life might
-be ordinarily calculated at sixty-five years; that is, supposing that
-one third of the time, or eight hours a day, was given to sleep. He
-believed, too, that just as the span of life is undoubtedly shortened by
-indiscretions and excesses, particularly in the matters of diet and
-drink; so he considered that span to be indubitably lengthened, if the
-ordinary rules of common prudence were carefully observed. But Lord Pit
-Town went further than this. Continual association with Dr. Wolff had
-converted the old nobleman to an extraordinary and original theory which
-was held by the doctor of philosophy. This theory was a delightfully
-simple one. Dr. Wolff was accustomed to sum it up as follows: "The human
-body is a machine, and would go on working for ever did not certain
-parts of it gradually wear out. It is our duty to make the machine last
-as long as possible. When not in use it should be run at the lowest rate
-of speed, in order to reduce the rapidity of the deterioration." "If I
-don't want to wear out my boots," Dr. Wolff would triumphantly remark,
-"I put on my slippers; therefore, as my body is more precious to me than
-even my new boots, I never unnecessarily wear it out. A certain minimum
-amount of exercise is undoubtedly necessary to health; let us take that
-by all means, but no more. Let us avoid unnecessary exertion of all
-kinds, physical or mental; let us not ride if we can drive, let us not
-walk if we can ride, let us not stand when we can sit, and certainly we
-should not sit if we can lie down; above all things we should not remain
-awake if we can possibly sleep, and even in sleeping we should, if
-possible, refrain from dreams. The valuable machine which we are
-possessed of should be run at the lowest possible speed, that it may
-last the longer. Strong emotions of all kinds should be just as
-obnoxious to us as strong drinks. Holding it as an absolute fact that,
-barring unavoidable accidents, a certain definite amount of wakefulness
-is allotted to every man, every opportunity should be seized for running
-the machine at the lowest possible rate by the simplest means; that is
-to say, to put it shortly, never remain awake without an object, as you
-are uselessly expending the allotted time of _Life_, that is to say, of
-_Wakefulness_." But Dr. Wolff and his disciple went further than this:
-they looked upon sleep as the secret recuperative power of nature. They
-considered that in sleep they had discovered the real _vis medicatrix
-naturæ_. Their curiosity was aroused as to the success of their theory;
-they were neither of them particularly anxious to become very old men,
-except that their doing so would tend to prove the correctness of their
-views.
-
-Lord Pit Town himself had already reached an almost patriarchal age; he
-slept and dozed frequently in the daytime, thus carrying out the
-principles of what the doctor proudly termed the "Wolffian Theory."
-Under no pretext whatever would any servant at Walls End Castle have
-dared to awaken either the doctor or the old lord; they were never
-called in the morning, and in the midst of the most interesting
-conversations they were both of them in the habit, without the slightest
-apology, of suddenly closing their eyes and taking a deep draught of
-what they called nature's recuperative elixir. Everybody in Walls End
-Castle knew perfectly well what the servants meant, when they said that
-either the old lord or his faithful henchman was engaged; it simply
-signified that the two human dormice were carrying out the Wolffian
-Theory.
-
-In sleep they were both accustomed to seek refuge from disturbing
-influences of all kinds. On the second day of Mrs. Dodd's visit to the
-Castle she had seized the opportunity of improving the occasion, when
-she suddenly came upon the old lord and the philosopher, each of whom
-was seated in an easy chair, silently drinking in the beauties of the
-celebrated Pit Town Turner, which formed one of the gems of the new
-galleries.
-
-"I hope I'm not intruding," the energetic lady remarked, as she burst in
-upon the scene of tranquil enjoyment; "I don't disturb you, Lord Pit
-Town?" she said.
-
-"Certainly not, dear madam; nothing disturbs me. I allow nothing to
-disturb me now."
-
-"No, nothing disturbs us; nothing short of an earthquake, _Frau
-Prediger_; it is against our principle, you know, and that is why we
-don't rise at your approach," chimed in the doctor of philosophy; and
-the eyes of the two gentlemen by common accord left Mrs. Dodd and
-returned to their meditative contemplation of the great landscape.
-
-Mrs. Dodd was astonished but not abashed; she had never known what it
-was to be abashed in the whole course of her life. "Their conduct is
-very peculiar," she thought. "That German man, if he had the instincts
-of a gentleman, should at least rise and explain the pictures to me; as
-for the old lord, I suppose he's in his second childhood. I wonder what
-'_Frau Prediger_' means?" "Ah, Lord Pit Town," she said, apostrophising
-the old nobleman and utterly ignoring the obnoxious Wolff, "I must
-confess to a feeling of sadness when I look at all these beautiful
-things, and when I think how much might have been done with the vast
-sums that they must have cost," and she put up her eye-glass and read
-the descriptive label affixed to the frame of the great Turner. "So that
-is the celebrated picture," she continued, "and did it really cost four
-thousand pounds? Oh, Lord Pit Town," she went on, in the tone she might
-have used to a little child detected red-handed in some act of juvenile
-depravity, "when we think how much might have been done with four
-thousand pounds, when we read in the statistics of the Society for the
-Conversion of the Jews that it costs little more than four thousand
-pounds to convert one of that proverbially stiff-necked race, one cannot
-look at that picture without emotion."
-
-She waited for a moment for the old lord to excuse himself; she looked
-from the picture to the venerable nobleman; his eyes were tightly shut;
-he was evidently taking a deep draught of the recuperative elixir. Then
-she turned in search of sympathy to the man who had called her "_Frau
-Prediger_;" he too was employed in exactly the same manner. For the
-first time in her life Mrs. Dodd found herself absolutely and distinctly
-ignored; she was to these two dreadful men as if she did not exist; it
-was too much, she turned and fled. As the vicar's wife flung out of the
-gallery, the two enthusiasts reopened their eyes and resumed their
-contemplation of Turner's masterpiece. From this little incident it may
-be seen that the old lord and his companion were not easily disturbed in
-the even tenor of their tranquil lives.
-
-Lord Spunyarn's feelings after the stormy interview with young Lucius
-Haggard were not to be envied. He hated to meddle and to make. It's
-quite true that he had been forced into his present position by
-Haggard's dying communication, and it was by no fault of his own that he
-suddenly found himself mixed up in the exceedingly intricate family
-affairs of other people. It was an unpleasant position; he had seen with
-his own eyes the links of evidence which completed the chain of proof
-that plainly demonstrated the truth of what his old friend had told him
-on his death-bed. How and by whom the contents of the little red box had
-been mysteriously spirited away he was unable to imagine; certainly not
-by his friend's widow, for Mrs. Haggard, he knew, was the soul of
-honour; certainly Lucius could have had no hand in the abstraction. It
-seemed to Spunyarn's mind imperative upon him to communicate the whole
-matter to the old earl, and so shift the entire responsibility upon the
-shoulders of the head of the family. Possibly the old lord, as the
-possessor of unbounded wealth, might be able to make arrangements
-satisfactory to himself and to the naturally conflicting interests of
-the two young men. In any case an open scandal must be avoided, and the
-Pit Town title and estates, whatever might become of the old lord's
-money, must not be diverted from the legitimate heir. How he wished that
-he had never accepted that autumn invitation to Pit Town Castle! He knew
-full well that young Lucius Haggard would not relinquish one tittle of
-what he considered his rights. It was difficult to escape from the horns
-of the dilemma. It was quite certain that Mrs. Haggard would not move in
-the matter, and to let Lucy Warrender's child rob George Haggard of his
-birthright seemed to him a crime. The only other alternative being a
-scandalous trial in open court and the dragging of the whole matter
-before the public. As a man of the world, Lord Spunyarn was quite aware
-that a secret ceases to be a secret when there are too many depositories
-of it; for this reason he could not even consult the legal advisers of
-the family. He felt that George Haggard must be told sooner or later:
-that was a plain duty. He felt, too, that it were better that the boy
-should learn the secret from him, but the communication of the matter to
-the old lord was still more imperative, and that communication must be
-made at once, for Spunyarn well knew that the life of the fragile old
-nobleman hung by a thread, and that there was no exaggeration in Lucius
-Haggard's statement that Lord Pit Town might go off at any moment. From
-what Spunyarn knew of George Haggard and his mother, he felt, in the
-event of the old earl's death, that it was more than probable that
-Lucius Haggard would be allowed to succeed to everything, contrary to
-all the dictates of human justice. At this thought all Spunyarn's class
-instincts violently revolted.
-
-Since the very startling communication which had been made to him,
-Lucius Haggard had thought of nothing else. To be suddenly told that one
-is a bastard is bad enough even for an ordinary mortal, but to a youth
-who has considered himself _porphyro-genitus_ to be informed that he is
-but of common clay after all, and, worse than that, base-born, is
-terrible indeed. Since he had heard the story, young Lucius had been
-unable to obtain even a sip of the doctor's recuperative elixir. He
-believed the tale--he couldn't doubt it--for he knew that the woman who
-had been a mother to him could not lie. So Lucius Haggard believed the
-story, and his only consolation was that the proofs were missing.
-Possession is nine points of the law he very well knew, and he thanked
-his stars that the _onus probandi_, fortunately for him, lay with those
-whom he already looked upon as "the other side." But he could not rest,
-for the mysterious contents of the box, whatever they had been, might be
-discovered at any moment, and, like Damocles, he trembled at the
-suspended sword.
-
-"You're not looking well, sir," said Mr. Capt, as he appeared with the
-dressing materials in the morning. "Won't you lie a little while
-longer?" said the valet. "I can bring up your breakfast, sir."
-
-"I'm all right, Capt. I've only had a bad night," and then the valet
-drew the curtains, and the young fellow looked once more upon the
-well-timbered landscape which till yesterday he had regarded as all his
-own. And then he gave a long sigh, which came from the very bottom of
-his heart.
-
-"The light seems to hurt your eyes, sir," said the valet, as he shut
-out what had now become a hateful picture.
-
-"I think you're right, Capt, I'll have an extra hour's sleep; you can
-leave me, and when I want my breakfast I'll ring for it," and Lucius
-Haggard turned his face to the wall as the valet left the room. But he
-didn't attempt to sleep; he began once more to turn over the matter in
-his mind and to meditate upon the best course of action to pursue.
-Should he have an interview with the possessor of his father's heritage,
-the heir to what he had once looked upon as his own birthright? He well
-knew young George Haggard's generosity. Should he make a clean breast of
-the whole matter to George, and propose that come what might, they two
-should share and share alike by mutual consent? Of course such a
-contract would not be legally binding, as he well knew, but he felt that
-should George consent to such an arrangement, he, the more astute, could
-break the contract whenever he saw fit. If he could only get hold of
-those papers, or whatever they were, and destroy them, his position
-would become almost impregnable; he would still remain practically Lord
-Pit Town's heir. Should the old man be talked over, even he, could not
-keep him out of the title and the entailed property. Could it be that in
-her love and affection for him, or in a horror of a scandal being
-attached to her name or to her dead husband's, that Mrs. Haggard had
-destroyed what the little red box had once contained? No, he couldn't
-hope that. To whose interest was it that the proofs, whatever they were,
-should disappear? To his, and to his alone. But surely no one would
-commit so stupendous an act of villainy merely to benefit him, or to
-wrong the man whom he still called his brother? Would Spunyarn lay the
-whole matter before the old lord? And if he did so would Lord Pit Town
-take the tale for gospel without proof--proof, the very existence of
-which was now problematical? Should he at once go to the earl and pose
-as the outraged victim of a base conspiracy, with the hope of enlisting
-the powerful support of the head of the family? The more he thought over
-all these things, the more was he overwhelmed with a sense of his own
-impotence. If he could only get hold of what the box had contained and
-destroy it, he would be comparatively safe; for he felt that even were
-he to peaceably come into the possession of what he had once considered
-his own, what a life of doubt and terror would be unquestionably his, so
-long as those proofs, those dreadful proofs, existed. If the whole
-strange story were but a fabrication after all--even that was possible.
-Reginald Haggard was his father; both Lord Spunyarn and Mrs. Haggard had
-agreed in this. He had always stood much in awe of his father, and had
-never given him cause of offence. It was strange that, knowing him to be
-a bastard, his father should have treated him in all things as his
-legitimate heir. Why had his father failed to provide for him in any
-way by will? For the apparently simple reason that he looked upon him as
-the old lord's natural successor. If it were true that he was but a
-base-born child, then his father must have been aware of the fact, and
-he and Mrs. Haggard must have been co-conspirators in an ignoble plot.
-What possible object could Reginald Haggard have had, and by what
-possible means could he have induced his wife to be his accomplice in so
-abominable a crime? As he looked back upon the long years of affection
-that the woman, who until to-day he had called his mother, had lavished
-upon him, he became the more bewildered. Could it be possible that the
-whole matter was but a hallucination of his mother's, caused by her
-recent bereavement? That supposition wouldn't hold water for a moment,
-for the philanthropic but notoriously hard-headed Spunyarn had actually
-seen the proofs, and Spunyarn was an honourable man; and he well
-remembered that Spunyarn himself had asserted his power of supplying the
-missing links in the chain. Was it possible after all that the
-mysterious contents of the little red box would never be discovered and
-that he might be still the old man's heir for want of legal proof to the
-contrary? Such a solution was the best that could be hoped for. He felt
-more than ever powerless, as he reflected that his future lot remained
-in the hands of Mrs. Haggard, the woman who in his rage and despair he
-had insulted by base suspicion and met by an open defiance. That was a
-mistake, he saw it now but too clearly. But the mistake was not
-irreparable. Gradually the policy he should pursue became more and more
-clearly marked out in his troubled mind. "I will not quarrel with them,"
-he thought; "I will express my readiness to do what is right, and should
-the contents of the box be ever forthcoming, then I must trust to their
-generosity. That is the simplest and safest way, the only wise course
-and the only prudent one; she may after all be bound to secrecy," he
-thought.
-
-And then he rang for his breakfast, and afterwards proceeded to
-interview his father's friend. He found Lord Spunyarn in what had been
-called Reginald Haggard's own room. When Lucius entered it, Lord
-Spunyarn was engaged with a mass of papers.
-
-"Spunyarn," he said abruptly, "I owe you an apology; I behaved badly
-yesterday. Forgive me," he continued, as he held out his hand, "I
-behaved badly enough to you," he went on, "but I behaved worse to my
-mother, for I must call her my mother still," he added in a broken
-voice.
-
-Spunyarn rose and took the offered hand. "Say no more, Lucius, I'm glad
-you thought better of it. After all it was a terrible position for you,
-my poor boy, a terrible position for us all," he continued, "and for her
-especially."
-
-"There's one thing I have to say to you, Lord Spunyarn," said Lucius,
-and the crafty young fellow spoke the words gracefully and trippingly;
-"in this matter I can only place my interests and my honour unreservedly
-in your hands. You were my father's friend, Lord Spunyarn, and you are
-his widow's and mine. It is for you, then, to say what is to be done."
-
-"One thing must be done, Lucius; the honour of the family and of the
-dead," he added solemnly, "must be respected."
-
-"That of course," said the young fellow, as he seated himself and fixed
-his eyes upon the carpet.
-
-"You will ask for nothing but what is just, Lucius; you would not wish
-to see your brother wronged?"
-
-"Surely not, Lord Spunyarn, surely not."
-
-"It'll have to be done, I suppose, sooner or later, and perhaps it's
-better done now. I don't think I could rake up all the miserable story
-in your mother's presence, Lucius, but you have a right to hear it. A
-good deal of the sad little drama was enacted before my very eyes. I
-once loved your mother, Lucius, your real mother, and I wanted to make
-her my wife. Lucius, don't ask me to name her--she is dead, poor girl.
-Try to think of your mother, Lucius, as the life-long victim of a
-girlish folly, as one who paid very dearly for her fault. Let us speak
-of her no more. I will tell you all you need know. I must tell you, or
-you would not be able to take in the situation. Just before you were
-born, Lucius, your mother, who was a dear friend of the much-wronged
-woman who sacrificed herself for you, feeling that her condition could
-be no longer concealed, appealed to your father's wife to save her from
-the consequences of her fault. Remember, Lucius, that Mrs. Haggard had
-no inkling of the truth that her friend's lover was her own husband. She
-never knew it, poor thing, till he was in his grave. If she chose to
-make the great sacrifice demanded of her, it was in her power to save
-her friend's reputation, and your mother, Lucius, was her dearest
-friend. She made the sacrifice, but when she made it she little knew the
-price she would have to pay, for in sacrificing herself, she sacrificed
-the rights of her own then unborn son; and for twenty years that poor
-woman supposed that she was deceiving, tricking and wronging your
-father. But it was not so, Lucius, for your father was aware of the
-whole conspiracy from the very first. Your mother's letters proved that,
-and the box contained further evidence, which rendered doubt upon the
-subject impossible. But when my poor friend was on his death-bed, Mrs.
-Haggard could be silent no longer. She, the woman who had sacrificed her
-whole life for the sake of a girlish friendship, on his death-bed, asked
-the forgiveness of the man who had wronged her. Then, and then only,
-with his dying breath, your father revealed to her that he had been a
-consenting party to the fraud and aware of it from the first. And then
-she forgave him, Lucius. What was she to do, poor thing? At your
-father's dying request, I, as his executor, having come into possession
-of the secret, handed the proofs to my friend's widow."
-
-"And you saw those proofs, Lord Spunyarn?"
-
-"Yes, I saw them, Lucius."
-
-The young man rose. "Then, Lord Spunyarn," he said, "there is but one
-course open to me. As a man of honour I place myself freely and fully in
-your hands. Whatever you think is the right course to pursue, that
-course I will follow; for I feel, as you told me yesterday, that I have
-no rights. My very presence here as my father's bastard, is an insult to
-her whom, I would to heaven, I could still call my mother, and to the
-head of the family. I can say no more than this, Lord Spunyarn--I place
-myself in your hands."
-
-Spunyarn took the young fellow by the hand affectionately. "Lucius,"
-said he, "you are behaving nobly. But the dilemma is none the less; the
-proofs, unfortunately, have disappeared. I know full well that you will
-never have cause to regret your generosity. Pray God that we may yet be
-able to avoid a public scandal. I have sent for Brookes; he is, as you
-know, the old lord's lawyer, and to him we must come sooner or later. If
-we could only get the contents of the box once more into our possession,
-all would be simple enough; but the proofs have disappeared, perhaps for
-ever; and my poor friend's wife, Lucius, is smitten by a terrible
-affliction; they found her speechless this morning, and the family
-practitioner tells me she may never recover. God knows," he added with a
-groan, "perhaps the hand of heaven has closed her mouth for ever."
-
-"You don't say that she is ill, Lord Spunyarn, perhaps dying?" cried the
-young man in an awe-stricken whisper, as he repressed his exultation
-with an effort. "Let me see her at once. Poor mother!" he added with a
-sigh.
-
-I verily believe that should fortune desert young Lucius Haggard he need
-never really starve, for his talents as a light comedian should
-certainly be worth several guineas a week to him.
-
-"Spunyarn," said Lucius after a pause, "who can have taken these papers?
-Have you any suspicion?"
-
-"It's a mystery I cannot penetrate," he replied. "Brookes may be able to
-get at the bottom of it, however; I hope and trust so."
-
-"Can it be possible," said Lucius, "that my mother destroyed the papers
-herself, or has secreted them?"
-
-"I hardly think so; she seemed as much astonished as I was, when we
-found them gone. Besides, why should she destroy them? Lucius, she
-trusted you; and she judged you rightly, my boy; you have chosen the
-only honourable and manly course. No man has cause to regret running
-straight in this world. You will never have reason to repent of it,
-Lucius."
-
-"Do you think no one outside the family, Lord Spunyarn, by any
-possibility can be in possession of the key to the secret?"
-
-"No one. Besides it interests no one, save my dear old friend, your
-brother, and yourself."
-
-"Yes, I suppose after all George is my brother, in a sort of way,
-still."
-
-"George will never forget that he is your brother, Lucius."
-
-There was a pause.
-
-"Let us go to her," said Lucius Haggard with a sigh.
-
-The elder man consented, and they left the room.
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER VII.
-
-  ENTER MR. BROOKES.
-
-
-When Lord Spunyarn and Lucius entered Mrs. Haggard's room they found her
-stretched upon a sofa, and to the inexperienced eye she presented very
-much her ordinary appearance; but as the young fellow, who had been
-nursed and tended by the invalid when he was a helpless friendless
-child, gazed upon the woman who had been a mother to him, he saw that
-one corner of the mouth was slightly drawn. The old lord was seated by
-her side; her left hand was clasped in his; the marks of recent tears
-were on the face of the old nobleman, and he roused himself with an
-effort to welcome his heir.
-
-"Mother," said the young fellow, as he took her other hand, "poor
-mother!" And even the long-headed youth felt a pang, as he gazed upon
-the wreck before him.
-
-An answering smile illumined the suffering face as she heard the
-greeting.
-
-Then there was a pause of some length; and then the old man made his
-moan, for the selfishness of age is as natural as the selfishness of
-childhood. This is what the possessor of countless wealth, and of all
-the heart could desire to obtain, said in his cracked querulous old
-voice:
-
-"All gone from me, wife and son, and nephews, all taken; and now she is
-stricken down, the joy of my dotage, the comfort of my old age. It's
-very hard to bear," groaned the old man, and the hollow old eyes became
-moist again. But there was an answering pressure from the slender hand
-which he held between his wrinkled fingers, and the old man's face was
-lighted up once more by a happy smile. "You won't leave me, Georgie," he
-continued, "for I can't spare you, my dear, I can't spare you." Again
-there came the same answering pressure. But she spoke no word; heaven
-had set the seal of silence on her lips; they moved, those pale lips,
-but no sound came from them; and then the sufferer made an impatient
-gesture. As she did so young George Haggard entered the room; his eyes
-were red with weeping and he trod daintily upon the carpet, as a man
-would do who feared to disturb a sleeping child. The sick woman smiled
-as he came to his brother's side and affectionately placed his hand upon
-Lucius Haggard's shoulder; her eyes sought those of Lord Spunyarn, dwelt
-upon his an instant, and then the lids closed upon the yet lovely orbs,
-and still smiling, like a tired child, Mrs. Haggard sank into a peaceful
-sleep.
-
-No word was spoken by those around the couch; they sat silent, fearing
-to disturb her slumber. As Lucius Haggard gazed upon the sweet sleeping
-face, he was racked by torturing doubt. How would it all end? Would she
-recover her bodily health again? The mind was evidently still uninjured.
-_Would she ever speak again?_ That was the important question to Lucius
-Haggard. The papers gone and the mouth of this one witness closed, he
-felt himself comparatively safe; still in the eyes of the law and of the
-world his father's lawful heir. But should she speak again, she might
-communicate the secret of his shame. Without her evidence all that Lord
-Spunyarn might say could but be mere surmise, a simple _ex parte_
-statement.
-
-One by one they left her sleeping, the old earl leaning heavily on the
-arm of Haggard's eldest son. And then they separated; the old lord to
-his slumbers and his dreams and the society of the faithful Wolff, the
-two young fellows to the park, to wander up and down the great avenue
-side by side, and talk with bated breath over their fresh misfortune,
-the affliction that had befallen their mother; while Lord Spunyarn
-returned to the examination of the mass of papers lying on the dead
-Reginald Haggard's table, and to wait with impatience the arrival of the
-family solicitor.
-
-"If there is a thing in this world that I hate," said old Mr. Brookes to
-his partner, as he sat in his cosy private room in Lincoln's Inn Fields
-that morning, "it's this modern system of telegrams; they're almost as
-bad as a doctor's night-bell. You have to go, whether you like it or
-not. Here's probably some simple matter of common law. Why on earth
-can't he write? Not a bit of it, he simply wires me, and I have to go,"
-and he handed a telegram across the table:
-
-            "Walls End Castle.
-
-    "Please come down at once. Your presence urgently needed.
-
-            "SPUNYARN."
-
-"Why can't they write?"
-
-That afternoon saw old Mr. Brookes at the Castle. He dined _tête-à-tête_
-with Lord Spunyarn, and did full justice to the cook's efforts. Lawyers
-are always epicures, and Mr. Brookes condescended to praise the _suprême
-de volaille_ of the Walls End _chef_. After dinner they drew their
-chairs to the fire, and then Lord Spunyarn opened his business.
-
-"I'm glad you have come, Brookes; I'm very glad you've come."
-
-"Something very serious, I suppose; something so urgent, Lord Spunyarn,
-that you couldn't have written me a letter and got my advice by the next
-post," and Mr. Brookes chuckled.
-
-"Yes, Mr. Brookes, it was something so serious that I had to see you in
-person. I fear there is a screw loose in the succession."
-
-"Gad, sir, you don't mean that Hetton _was_ married after all?"
-
-"No, it's not that. Since my poor friend Haggard's death, Mr. Brookes,
-I have been placed in a very difficult position. On his death-bed
-Haggard desired me to place a box containing letters and certain
-reminiscences of a bygone intrigue in his wife's hands. There is nothing
-very extraordinary in that you will say; the man was sorry for his
-youthful error, and sought forgiveness. Quite so, but that was not the
-end of the matter." Spunyarn described to the old lawyer the contents of
-the box, the miniature, the mask, the earrings, and the packet of
-letters. "Mr. Brookes," he continued, "as my friend's executor it was
-perhaps my duty to have gone through those letters, but they were the
-love-letters of a dead woman to my own dead friend, and I myself had at
-one time, long long ago, been seriously attached to the lady. I hadn't
-the heart to go through those letters. I see now, that I neglected or
-avoided what was a very painful duty. I as my friend's executor should
-have cared for those letters, verified them, and put them in a place of
-safety. My only excuse is that my dying friend's words to me were, 'Hand
-the red morocco box in my safe to my wife, the contents are important;
-remember my affair at Rome and you will understand them; Georgie must do
-as she pleases in the matter.' And then he died. I take it, Mr. Brookes,
-that it was my duty to carry out my dying friend's injunctions. I did
-carry out those injunctions to the letter, and then I became aware of an
-astounding thing. Young Lucius Haggard is not the heir to the Pit Town
-title, for he is illegitimate; nay, more than that, he is not Mrs.
-Haggard's son at all."
-
-The lawyer sprang from his chair. "Do you mean to assert, Lord Spunyarn,
-that he was substituted by the supposed parents? On the face of it, Lord
-Spunyarn, it's an improbable story, almost an impossible story."
-
-"Let me explain, Mr. Brookes. Lucius Haggard is really the son of Mrs.
-Haggard's dearest friend. When, in a moment of desperate fear and
-agitation, in her love for her friend she consented to cover that
-friend's terrible position--she was an inexperienced girl, Mr.
-Brookes--by personating the child's mother, she had not the slightest
-idea of the terrible complications that would ensue, and that the
-child's father was her own husband; that latter fact she never knew
-until my poor friend, suddenly stricken down, with his dying breath
-hinted at the terrible secret, and asked for her forgiveness."
-
-The lawyer moved uneasily in his chair, but did not attempt to interrupt
-Lord Spunyarn's explanation.
-
-"I acknowledge to you, Mr. Brookes," he continued, "that I committed an
-error; I should have done at once what I am doing now, and taken you
-into our confidence. But the good name of a woman was at stake, the
-proofs were in our possession, there was no doubt as to the
-illegitimacy of Lucius Haggard, and I trusted in his honour and to the
-affection he bore to the woman who had been a mother to him, to enable
-us to tide over the matter without disclosing it to a living soul, at
-least during Lord Pit Town's lifetime."
-
-"And you were disappointed, Lord Spunyarn; you forgot the magnitude of
-the stake, when you deliberately placed the honour of a noble family,
-the succession to a title and immense estates, in the hands of an
-interloper."
-
-"No, Mr. Brookes. At first Lucius Haggard refused to believe for an
-instant what would naturally seem a most improbable story. A terrible
-scene of violence ensued, but let me do young Lucius justice: he
-speedily came to his senses; his conduct, Mr. Brookes, was all that one
-could expect from a man of the very highest honour. He placed himself
-unreservedly in my hands."
-
-"Thank God for that," said the lawyer, as he wiped, his forehead with
-his big silk handkerchief, "thank God for that, for it simplifies
-matters very considerably. And now I suppose you want me to break the
-matter to the old lord. We've had a very narrow escape, Lord Spunyarn."
-
-"I fear we're not out of the wood yet," said Spunyarn meditatively.
-
-"What! further complications?"
-
-"Unfortunately, yes. Mrs. Haggard is suffering from a stroke of
-paralysis and is speechless."
-
-"Well, there is still your evidence and the contents of the box;
-besides, you say that Lucius Haggard will not fail you."
-
-"Mr. Brookes, the worst yet remains to tell; _the contents of the box
-have disappeared_."
-
-Again the lawyer rose to his feet deeply agitated. "Lord Spunyarn," said
-he solemnly, "you have much to answer for. No doubt Lucius Haggard has
-possessed himself of the evidence the box contained and has destroyed
-it. Just think for an instant of the immense temptation to him to do so.
-There may be, there will be, a gigantic law-suit that may never end,
-while the whole of the vast property may be frittered away, for in a
-matter such as this, remember, all costs come out of the estate. Lord
-Spunyarn, what you tell me is not a misfortune, it is an appalling
-calamity, and Lucius Haggard alone has the key of the situation. It's
-not a time for half measures, Lord Spunyarn; we must attempt to obtain
-from him the contents of the box, even if we have to employ violence."
-
-"Calm yourself, Mr. Brookes," said Lord Spunyarn, "Lucius Haggard at
-least is wholly guiltless in the matter. He was unaware even of the
-existence of the box and its contents until he saw it in Mrs. Haggard's
-presence. We revealed to him the story, and when we opened the box, that
-he might see the proofs as he surely had a right to do, it was empty."
-
-The lawyer stared at Lord Spunyarn. "And what is your lordship's
-opinion," he said, "in the matter? Let me understand you exactly, Lord
-Spunyarn. You handed the box and its contents to Mrs. Haggard. She can
-testify to that?"
-
-"Mr. Brookes, she is speechless."
-
-"If we had only got the letters you speak of, with affidavits in proper
-form from yourself and the wife of the deceased man, and, _Lucius
-Haggard being a consenting party_, by the expenditure of a good deal of
-money, we might perhaps tide the matter over; as it is, Lord Spunyarn,
-there is no evidence, absolutely no evidence. All you have to tell, is
-mere hearsay and conjecture; and it would doubtless be successfully set
-up that, accepting your version of the communication made to you by
-Reginald Haggard on his death-bed, unsupported as it is by a tittle of
-evidence, it was but the incoherent raving of a dying man. A Committee
-of Privilege of the House of Lords would not accept mere _ex parte_
-statements in so serious a matter; there would have to be absolute
-proof, legal proof, mind you, proof that would satisfy the law officers
-of the Crown. Young Lucius Haggard, even if he were so Quixotic as to
-wish to do so, could not sign away an earldom by a mere stroke of the
-pen, neither could he strip himself of the entailed estates. The
-extraordinary events, that you say took place many years ago, would have
-to be proved; and who is to prove them? As to the parties themselves,
-two of them are dead, while the third unfortunately is unable to give
-evidence one way or the other. If I communicate this dreadful thing to
-my aged client, it may actually kill him. What is your own opinion, Lord
-Spunyarn? Do you suppose that in a temporary aberration of mind, to take
-a most favourable view of it, Mrs. Haggard, with a woman's natural fear
-of exposure, destroyed or secreted the contents of the box? Reginald
-Haggard we know devised all his property to his son George, which was
-the least he could do after stripping him of everything he had the right
-to inherit (I am taking your strange story for gospel for a moment). Can
-we think that Mrs. Haggard (still supposing the story to be true) felt
-herself bound to be her husband's accomplice in robbing her own son of
-his just rights, and so become the principal actor in an abominable
-conspiracy? You have pieced the thing together in your own mind, and the
-whole story fits charmingly, but it doesn't admit of proof in any way;
-it's little better than an improbable and romantic tale as it stands
-now, without a shadow of documentary or oral evidence to give it even
-the semblance of truth."
-
-Lord Spunyarn interrupted the lawyer impatiently.
-
-"You don't mean to say that you doubt the various details that I have
-given you, Mr. Brookes?"
-
-"I doubt nothing, Lord Spunyarn," replied the lawyer, "I am merely
-giving you the legal view. It will be my duty, I fear there is no escape
-from it, to communicate the whole matter to Lord Pit Town, and to take
-his instructions; of course by those instructions I shall be guided. He
-may direct me to attempt to collect evidence in the matter, for I don't
-suppose that he would wish an illegitimate child of his heir to inherit
-his title and estates. There is another view, Lord Spunyarn, a view that
-would commend itself to the minds of some men: 'Let sleeping dogs lie'
-is a good proverb. If Lucius Haggard is, as you assert, base-born, then
-it is for George Haggard to prove his title; and the real struggle
-between the two young men need only commence when my old friend is laid
-in his grave. Of one thing I am quite certain, Lord Spunyarn; public
-scandal and litigation, must, if possible, be avoided, and I am sure
-that my client will be at one with me in this."
-
-Spunyarn nodded.
-
-"It is, of course, possible," continued the lawyer, "that some third
-person may have possessed himself of the contents of the box from
-mercenary motives."
-
-"And what is your own impression, Mr. Brookes?"
-
-"Speaking to you, Lord Spunyarn, as Reginald Haggard's executor and the
-guardian of his infant sons, one of whom is undoubtedly the heir to the
-Pit Town title, speaking as a man unversed in the ways of women, and
-supposing that Lucius Haggard was unaware of the alleged contents of the
-box, I am inclined to suspect that Mrs. Haggard holds the key to the
-mystery."
-
-"You mean that she has secreted or destroyed what the box contained?"
-
-The lawyer nodded.
-
-"Mr. Brookes, my poor friend's wife would never commit a dishonourable
-act."
-
-"A woman's ideas of honour, Lord Spunyarn, are peculiar. With them, as
-a rule, particularly with the best of them, sentiment often takes the
-place of what men call honour. You yourself have told me that this
-unhappy lady considered herself bound by an oath to Lucius's mother,
-accepting for the moment the theory that she herself is not his mother.
-If she would keep the secret for twenty years, Lord Spunyarn, if there
-was a secret, she may carry it with her to her grave, repenting the
-sudden confidence that you state she made to you. Even supposing that
-the power of speech should return to her, she may decline to confirm
-upon oath the statement made to you. The very fact of her suffering from
-paralysis may be used by Lucius Haggard and his advisers to set up a
-theory that she is of unsound mind; and a very natural theory, too, I
-take it," said the lawyer with a sigh. "Lucius Haggard," he continued,
-"a minor, under the influence which you and Mrs. Haggard would
-naturally exert upon him, may be a very different person to deal with
-from Lucius Haggard acting under professional advice, and only biassed
-by his own interests. I fear, should the matter ever come before the
-public, that very strong reflections indeed will be made upon you and
-Mrs. Haggard. _Beati possidentes._ Supposing that Lord Pit Town should
-elect to either ignore the matter altogether, or simply instruct me to
-seek for further evidence; in a very short time indeed, for his lordship
-is a very old man, Lucius Haggard will come into the title and estates
-as a matter of course; it will then be for George to attempt to prove
-his right. We must be careful, Lord Spunyarn, in attempting to set
-ourselves up as an amateur court of law, that we do not ruin the
-fortunes of a great house by leaving it absolutely without an heir; for
-suppose young George Haggard to die, and supposing for an instant that
-the story you have told me could ever be proved, that is what would
-happen. Why, the very title would cease to exist, and the estates would
-possibly revert to the Crown. Are you and I, Lord Spunyarn, justified in
-setting the match to a train which might extinguish an ancient peerage?
-If I speak to you as a man of the world, and give you my honest opinion,
-I do not hesitate to say that the best thing that can happen is, that
-these papers, whatever they contain, may never come to light."
-
-"You would not go as far as to suggest, Mr. Brookes, that should we
-discover the papers we are to destroy them?"
-
-"No, Lord Spunyarn. God forbid! I don't go as far as that. You, as your
-friend's executor, through a strange carelessness, for I can call it no
-less, have let the contents of the box out of your possession; of course
-it is for you to do your utmost to regain them. If you ever succeed in
-doing so, it seems to me that young George Haggard will be called upon
-to elect his own course. I don't think there is any use in prolonging
-this interview," he continued; "I must see his lordship, of course, in
-the morning; and should he consent, and I trust to his strong common
-sense that he will do so, we shall be able to advise with you in the
-matter. He may, however, object to that, in which case you will of
-course obtain professional assistance and take your own course."
-
-Spunyarn felt that the man who addressed him had ceased to be Mr.
-Brookes, the old friend of the family, and that he had relapsed into his
-real position of Lord Pit Town's legal adviser.
-
-The two men shook hands; and it is not to be wondered at if neither
-slept very well that night, both having abundant food for reflection.
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER VIII.
-
-  THE HOLLOW BEECH TREE.
-
-
-Curiosity is not, as is popularly supposed, the private and peculiar
-failing of the female sex. Most men tear up their letters ere they
-consign them to the waste-paper basket; the wiser and more suspicious
-portion of the human race burn them. If Bluebeard had confided the key
-of the Blue closet to any one of his servants, we may rely upon it that
-they would have been just as certain to have investigated the contents,
-as the nameless, but indiscreet, lady, whose sister's name was Ann.
-
-Mr. Capt was a very superior servant, but like most servants he was
-innately curious. The little red morocco box, which he had never seen
-opened, which had always accompanied his deceased master on his numerous
-journeys, and which was habitually kept in his master's iron safe, had
-always puzzled him. It's not very much to be wondered at, then, that
-when Mr. Capt saw the box upon the table in Mrs. Haggard's boudoir, with
-its key standing invitingly in the lock, he should seize the opportunity
-to take a peep at its contents. When Capt saw what those contents were,
-being an unscrupulous man, he hesitated not an instant in becoming their
-possessor. With men such as Capt, _chantage_, as the French call it, is
-a favourite mode of obtaining wealth. We know how Capt had blackmailed
-Lucy Warrender for years, and how he was a past-master in the art. We
-know, too, that Capt meditated a still grander _coup_. The secret he
-possessed had been a little fortune to him during poor Lucy's lifetime,
-and, like the shares of a successful mine, Mr. Capt's secret had
-developed in value with astonishing rapidity. But Capt was a timid as
-well as a cautious man; he had a holy horror of the terrors of the law.
-The secret he had to sell was a valuable one, it is true, but the chain
-of proof was incomplete. Capt could show that the ladies had gone to
-Auray in a mysterious manner. Capt could swear that Miss Warrender,
-under the threat of exposure, had made no secret to him that she was the
-mother of the boy Lucius; but who Lucius's father was, had been to Mr.
-Capt an impenetrable mystery. And as Mr. Capt rubbed his hands at the
-thought of the disclosures he could make and their great pecuniary
-value, his smile of delight would fade at the reflection, that though
-all he swore might be perfectly true, yet, like the inspired Cassandra,
-he might fail to find anybody to believe him. Great then was Capt's
-delight at getting possession of the miniature which represented Lucy
-Warrender in her Watteau costume, for it opened up to him the means of
-placing his own evidence beyond a doubt, by adding to it the probably
-unwilling testimony of Lord Spunyarn, a witness who would be above
-suspicion. His master's monogram upon the portrait case, followed by
-the single word "Rome" and the date, brought back all the facts
-distinctly to his mind. He remembered actually looking on with his own
-eyes, disguised as he was as a Roman warrior, upon the _fracas_ between
-Haggard and the unfortunate Mons. Barbiche at Papayani's ball; he had
-seen the blue domino upon Haggard's arm, and he had gazed with
-curiosity, striving to penetrate the secrecy of the very mask which was
-now in his possession. Probably, he thought, Lord Spunyarn was Haggard's
-confidant in the whole matter, but when he read the packet of letters
-all doubt was set at rest, and Mr. Capt felt that the honour of a noble
-family was his to traffic with, and that all that remained was to look
-out for the best bargain. Mr. Capt then secreted his prey at once.
-Secure now in the possession of the power of proving what he had to
-tell, he had but to take his merchandise to the best market and dispose
-of it to the highest bidder. Unfortunately for the valet, there were
-only a few possible purchasers for the valuable commodity he had to
-sell. There was the old lord, but Capt doubted whether Lord Pit Town
-might feel disposed to invest his money in proving the eldest son of his
-own deceased heir to be a bastard. As for Mrs. Haggard, dealings with
-her were out of the question, for she was prostrated by the stroke of
-paralysis. Then Capt's mind reverted to old Warrender, but he thought
-with horror of the collection of antiquated horsewhips which hung in the
-entrance-hall of The Warren, and he remembered that Squire Warrender,
-though a very old man now, had a vigorous arm, and that he was a justice
-of the peace. The other possible purchasers that remained were the two
-young men, but unfortunately both were under age, and, therefore,
-comparatively penniless; so Mr. Capt, reluctantly enough, was compelled
-to defer negotiations to Lord Pit Town's death, or, at all events,
-until Lucius Haggard's majority, and he determined whichever of those
-events might happen first, that he would then realize his property at
-once.
-
-Capt had reluctantly made up his mind to wait; he carefully packed up
-the contents of the little box which he had purloined, including the
-brilliant earrings, for he feared to dispose of them, though they were
-very valuable, lest he might be accused of, and punished for, a robbery.
-Besides the earrings were a part of the proofs. It was quite a neat
-little parcel he made, and he carefully covered the whole with
-waterproof canvas, lest the valuable contents of the packet might be
-damaged by weather. Mr. Capt had determined to place his property in a
-temporary hiding place, for he argued rightly that Lord Spunyarn, as
-soon as he was aware of the robbery that had been committed, would leave
-no stone unturned to regain possession of the deposit he had so
-carelessly guarded.
-
-Nature had provided Mr. Capt with a hiding-place suitable in every way
-to his designs. In the most secluded portion of the park, whither he was
-accustomed to resort to meditate and smoke his master's cigars in
-secret, was a very picturesque beech. At about the height of a man in
-the trunk of this vigorous young tree was a hole some eighteen inches
-deep, just large enough to admit a man's hand. Into this natural
-hiding-place Mr. Capt remembered to have once himself thrust his fingers
-from curiosity. It was not without some hesitation that he placed his
-property in the cavity, and to make assurance doubly sure he covered the
-packet with a few dead leaves and closed the mouth of the hole with a
-big stone, upon which he artistically placed a little layer of living
-moss, carefully smoothing down the edges of the tuft with his fingers.
-And then Mr. Capt became once more a waiter upon Providence.
-
-The explosion which Mr. Capt had expected took place. The sudden
-summoning of the family lawyer, and the striking down of Mrs. Haggard by
-paralysis, had sufficiently informed him of the fact. He felt certain
-that a vigorous perquisition would ensue, and it was with considerable
-satisfaction, that he reflected that he had been beforehand in the
-matter, and that he had placed, what he looked upon as his property, in
-safety.
-
-The interview between Lord Pit Town and his solicitor was a long one.
-The old lord was naturally much agitated. As was to be expected, he
-placed himself unreservedly in the hands of his legal adviser, and he
-determined not to move in the matter.
-
-"You seem to think, Brookes," he said, "that there is nothing to be done
-in this thing."
-
-"Certainly not, my lord," Mr. Brookes replied. "The late Mr. Reginald
-Haggard's widow, should she recover possession of her faculties, which
-her medical adviser has informed me is extremely doubtful, would be able
-assuredly to give us the solution of the mystery; till then, or till her
-death, it is my opinion that we can take no action whatever. It is
-certainly not for us to throw any doubt upon the legitimacy of the young
-man, whom you must perforce continue to look upon as your lawful heir.
-Of Lucius Haggard's silence for his own sake, we may be certain. Lord
-Spunyarn we may trust, while Mrs. Haggard herself will assuredly reveal
-nothing until her health is in some measure restored, and then only
-probably under considerable pressure from you, if you should, under the
-circumstances, consider such a course advisable. If there really was a
-secret, Lord Pit Town, we can rely upon the discretion of a woman who
-has kept it for twenty years. But after all it seems to me that it is
-only the distant branches of the family who suffer in losing a remote
-contingent succession; even if the extremely unlikely history which
-Lord Spunyarn gave me is a fact, and true in all its details, Lucius
-Haggard is still Reginald Haggard's son. It seems to me that it is not
-for us to stir up the question of his legitimacy. Possibly your lordship
-might feel inclined to put pressure upon him, and make him covenant not
-to marry in his younger brother George's lifetime, and so the title and
-entailed estates would eventually pass to George Haggard or his heirs."
-
-"That is, of course, supposing the story to be true," quavered the old
-lord.
-
-"It is impossible, my lord, in the absence of the documents, for us to
-take any notice of the story. I may attempt, if you wish it, to obtain
-information. I might sound the late Mr. Haggard's valet, though I think
-it would be extremely bad policy to do so. As for George Haggard, my
-lord, he is his father's heir, and you and I, my lord, know that the
-present disposition of your lordship's property will amply compensate
-him for the loss of the Pit Town title and the Walls End estates, even
-if they were really his by right."
-
-"Yes, Brookes, I suppose things must take their course."
-
-His lordship's remark showed that he accepted Mr. Brookes' point of
-view. The lawyer communicated the old man's decision to Lord Spunyarn,
-but the matter itself was never mentioned between Lord Pit Town and the
-executor of his late heir.
-
-Young Lucius Haggard for the last few days had had plenty of food for
-reflection. The agony of mind which he had suffered when Lord Spunyarn
-had broken to him the strange story of his birth was more than
-counterbalanced by the disappearance of the proofs and the opportune
-illness of his father's widow. He found himself once more the heir
-apparent, and so temporary had been his degradation that it seemed but a
-fevered dream. Whether the story was true or false, probably no one
-would ever know. The more he thought of the matter, the more young
-Lucius Haggard congratulated himself on having controlled his feelings
-after his first natural burst of passionate indignation. He had not
-alienated Lord Spunyarn, he had not quarrelled with any one; his
-conduct, under the most trying circumstances, had been such as to merit
-the respect of all concerned. Though he had not yet won the rubber, he
-had decidedly scored the first game.
-
-As time rolled on, Reginald Haggard's widow made no perceptible progress
-towards recovery. The speechlessness continued; she was still unable to
-articulate. At first she frequently attempted to speak, but gradually
-ceased her efforts, as she found that it was practically impossible to
-express herself. When she tried to write, although the fingers could
-grasp the pen, she was unable to produce written characters, but she
-appeared to hear and to understand perfectly. Her memory, too, seemed
-to have failed her, for she no longer attempted to express her grief at
-her husband's death. She had lost to a certain extent also the power of
-motion, and was confined to her couch. With this exception, her bodily
-health remained good, and there was no visible change in her appearance.
-
-No intimation of the supposed discovery of a family mystery had been
-made to old Squire Warrender, not that there was any doubt as to his
-discretion, but simply because there was nothing to be gained by
-disturbing the old man's mind with so terrible a communication. Squire
-Warrender had hurried to the Castle to visit his daughter when he first
-heard of her seizure; but as the fears of an immediate fatal termination
-gradually wore off, the old squire had returned to King's Warren. But
-the two young men, as was natural, still remained at the Castle in close
-attendance upon their mother; George, from natural affection, while
-Lucius, though he longed to taste the sweets of his newly-acquired
-liberty, felt that it was to his interest to remain upon the spot in the
-unlikely contingency of Mrs. Haggard regaining her faculties.
-
-While the minds of many of the inhabitants of Walls End Castle had been
-disturbed in the manner narrated, the quiet little parish of King's
-Warren had been shaken out of its ordinary state of somniferous
-torpidity. To use Mrs. Dodd's words, "the government of the country had
-at last become awakened to the important services rendered to the Church
-by my dear father." The fact is, that a bishopric had fallen in, and
-that the Prime Minister, a notorious talker and time-server, and a very
-old servant of Her Majesty, was extremely anxious to perpetrate a great
-and glorious job. But the Prime Minister was a wise man; he knew very
-well that in trying to please everybody he would satisfy no one, and so
-he meant to please himself, and to appoint to the vacant see an old
-college chum of his own, a learned but harmless enthusiast, now a Don,
-who had once in his life perpetrated a very abstruse work upon the Greek
-particle. The first thing that the Prime Minister did was to lend an
-apparently willing ear to the suggestions of the various busybodies who
-under such circumstances always favour unfortunates in his position with
-their disinterested ideas upon the subject. Deputations from the two
-rival missionary societies waited upon him, lords temporal and lords
-spiritual had private interviews with him, and the heads of his party
-expressed their opinions to him freely but confidentially; he promised
-to give their suggestions what he called his earnest consideration, and
-then he bowed them out. But the Prime Minister was a man who invariably
-killed two birds with one stone. "I will obtain some cheap popularity,"
-he thought, "and several good rounds of universal applause, by a
-master-stroke. I will _offer_ the bishopric to a simple parish
-clergyman." In the clerical world, to use a profane phrase, there were
-at least half-a-dozen favourites in the betting, and as many dark
-horses. When the _Thunderer_ appeared with an inspired article upon the
-fitness of a successful parish clergyman for the more onerous position
-of a bishop, great was the humming and disturbance in the clerical hive.
-Profound was the disappointment in the minds of the drones and
-dignitaries. Men who were performing archidiaconal functions heaped dust
-and ashes on their heads, crying aloud that the interests of the Church
-were being sacrificed to obtain an ephemeral popularity. But the breasts
-of the working bees throbbed with excitement; the vicars of parishes who
-had been long in harness, and had never met with the expensive
-misfortune of being haled by their bishop, or the terrible aggrieved
-parishioner, under the Church Discipline Act, before that greatest of
-all clerical bogies, Lord Penzance, and who would never have thought of
-undergoing six months' imprisonment for conscience' sake; men who knew a
-good glass of wine when they saw it; men who were apostles of the Blue
-Ribbon Army, fathers of large families of sons and daughters blessed in
-having their quivers full of them, and Celibates wedded to the Church
-alone; all these men were racked by ambitious hopes. In the meanwhile
-the Prime Minister was occupied in putting salt on his sparrow's tail:
-that rare clerical bird so fast becoming extinct in the present day,
-_rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno_, who should be willing to
-reply to him _nolo episcopari_. The Prime Minister was looking round for
-a man of straw, and after some search he found him in the person of the
-Reverend John Dodd.
-
-The _Thunderer_ had said that "the little leaven that was needed in the
-hierarchy of the Church of England, that it might leaven the whole
-lump, was a parochial clergyman who had unostentatiously laboured in the
-clerical vineyard, a man who could rule his see as he had ruled his
-parish," and after a long diatribe, the article concluded with these
-pregnant words: "Such a man the noble lord at the head of affairs has
-found in the well-known vicar of King's Warren, the Reverend John Dodd."
-And then it compared the Reverend John Dodd to the "Man of Ross," in its
-usual graceful and pointed manner.
-
-Verbal communications, like dead men, tell no tales.
-
-The Prime Minister didn't write a letter to the Reverend John Dodd, he
-didn't even send him a halfpenny post-card, offering him the bishopric;
-but he did dispatch a trusted emissary. We must remember that the
-Minister had been credibly informed that the Reverend John Dodd was
-absolutely the only respectable clergyman in the Church of England, in
-the full possession of his mental faculties, who would be certain to
-decline the honours of consecration. Certain Roman emperors have earned
-our respect by refusing to accept divine honours, and the Prime Minister
-heard with delight that the Reverend John Dodd was a man of the same
-heroic kidney. We have met the emissary before, it was the same old
-clerical friend of the Reverend John's, who had on a previous occasion,
-as his archdeacon, warned him to set his house in order on the
-appointment of a new bishop, a king who knew not Joseph. He it was, who
-had recommended to his friend Dodd that eminently reliable clerical
-charwoman, the Reverend Barnes Puffin. The Reverend Barnes Puffin had
-done his work well, things had gone on smoothly ever since in the parish
-of King's Warren; and many a time and oft had the stout vicar, like the
-mask'd Arabian maid in the "Light of the Harem," exclaimed, "Oh, if
-there be an Elysium on earth, it is this, it is this." I don't believe
-that the vicar of King's Warren would have changed places with the
-Mikado of Japan. The two clergymen had their interview; at which Mrs.
-Dodd, to her great indignation, did not assist. Never before in his life
-had the Reverend John kept a secret so long from the knowledge of the
-wife of his bosom, the fair Cecilia; until the next morning at
-breakfast, he may be said to have continuously wrestled with her in the
-spirit. In vain did Mrs. Dodd alternately beg, command, and even entreat
-him with briny tears, to communicate to her what had taken place in that
-secret interview. All she could extract from him was, that she should
-know all about it at breakfast time. She even tried guessing, but each
-guess was more wildly improbable, and wider of the mark than the last;
-her final suggestion was a rather barbed arrow though.
-
-"John," she said in a hissing whisper, with a vicious nudge, to the poor
-vicar, who was vainly seeking sleep for the twentieth time. "You may
-keep it from me if you will, John, but I've guessed your dreadful
-secret. Yes," she added with a succession of sobs, "I've guessed it at
-last; the boo-boo-bishop is going to sequestrate your living on the
-ground of your weakened intellect." But Dodd only chuckled, or rather
-"chortled," in his amusement, as he buried his face in his pillow.
-
-The next morning Mrs. Dodd, as was her custom, entered the
-breakfast-room first. She took up the _Thunderer_, and she performed her
-natural duty as a woman, and went carefully through the list of births,
-deaths and marriages; and then she came upon the inspired article to
-which we have alluded. At first the paper dropped from her fingers, and
-then her face was illumined by a smile of triumph. The neat
-parlour-maid was just placing the hissing urn upon the table.
-
-"Jane," said Mrs. Dodd, "in future when addressing your master, be good
-enough to say, 'my lord.' You can inform the others of what I wish
-done."
-
-The girl dropped Mrs. Dodd a low courtesy, stared at her, and then
-stammered out, "Yes, my lady."
-
-So grateful was this speech to Mrs. Dodd's feelings that she hadn't the
-heart to correct the girl; she merely smiled blandly and smoothed her
-cap ribbons.
-
-The Reverend John Dodd entered the room at the moment; he sniffed and
-rubbed his hands, for ambrosial odours from the kitchen reached his
-nostrils. His wife sprang to her feet, and rushing into his arms after
-the manner of long-lost daughters upon the stage, she buried her face in
-his M.B. waistcoat. "John, dear John," she said through her tears of
-joy, as she gazed up at his great round smiling visage, "let me be the
-first to congratulate you on your well-deserved honours." She snatched
-up the newspaper and waved it wildly in the air. "I've read it all,
-John, and they've put it _so_ nicely. Little did I dream last night when
-I spoke to you so irreverently, for I shall revere you now, John, that I
-was speaking to a bishop. Oh, John," she continued, clapping her hands
-in a girlish manner, "'tis such a becoming dress, and so, so
-delightfully exclusive."
-
-"Calm yourself, Cecilia," said Dodd, who feared the shock would be too
-much for her. "Calm yourself, Cecilia, dear. I'm plain Jack Dodd still;
-they did offer it me yesterday, but I refused it."
-
-"And you can stand there, Mr. Dodd, and tell me this dreadful thing. Oh,
-Mr. Dodd," she said with withering sarcasm, "I thought just now that I
-was the wife of a bishop. Alas, I learn from your lips the terrible
-truth, the truth which my poor father so often impressed upon me, that
-I am only married to a fool," and she rushed from the room.
-
-I suppose that the parson was after all a callous stony-hearted man, for
-though he breakfasted alone, he devoured the entire dish of stewed
-kidneys, which the parlour-maid had placed upon the table with a low
-obeisance.
-
-
-
-
-  CHAPTER IX.
-
-  MR. CAPT LEAVES SERVICE.
-
-
-Mr. Capt bided his time. The quiet respectful foreign servant showed by
-no word or gesture that he held the key to the mystery of Lucius
-Haggard's birth. His duties were almost a sinecure, and though now he
-drew his pay from Lucius Haggard, and was, of course, young Mr.
-Haggard's own man, yet he gave almost as much attention to the comforts
-of the younger brother. Every afternoon Mr. Capt was in the habit of
-taking a long walk in the great park. I don't think it was simply for
-love of exercise, or to admire the scenery, that he was so regular in
-his pilgrimages to a particular sylvan glade on the border of the river
-Sweir, which formed the extreme boundary of Lord Pit Town's home park.
-The real fact was, that Capt was in the habit of making a daily
-inspection of the place where he had deposited his treasure. At first he
-was accustomed to walk down to the river and examine the little tuft of
-moss which he had so carefully planted over the hiding-place furnished
-him by nature in the beech tree. But he had noticed that he had worn
-quite a little path just beneath his tiny treasure-house; such
-carelessness he remembered might betray him; so though he passed the
-tree every day, he was careful to avoid his first mistake; and as day by
-day the little tuft of moss grew greener, for it had now evidently taken
-root, Capt gradually inspected the tree just as carefully but from a
-greater distance. From many a point of vantage he could observe the
-little green patch, and at length, by a refinement of ingenuity, he was
-enabled to keep away from the tree altogether. His eternal cigar in his
-mouth, he was accustomed to walk about well within sight of the beech
-tree. The spot was secluded enough when he had first adopted the
-hiding-place, but as the autumn wore on and the leaves fell, Mr. Capt
-thanked his stars at his own ingenuity. Having assured himself that no
-one was in sight, Mr. Capt would take a small opera glass from his
-pocket, then he would commence by its aid to admire the view, he would
-gaze round at all points of the compass; last of all, his glance would
-inevitably fall upon the beech tree, the glass would be fixed steadily
-upon the little tuft of moss, and then seeing that it was undisturbed it
-would be replaced in its case, and pocketed with a sigh of satisfaction.
-And then Mr. Capt would continue his perambulations in a comfortable
-frame of mind.
-
-It was one of those bright, brisk, clear days of early winter, when the
-sun has attained sufficient power to make us unbutton our overcoats,
-and feel glad if we had left our neck-wraps at home. Mr. Capt had just
-breasted the rising ground which formed the boundary of the dell in the
-direction of the Castle. He stopped, and placed his hand in his pocket,
-to draw from it the glass, and to then commence his usual artistic
-studies of the thousand and one autumn effects of the daily changing
-landscape. But before he could get the glass to his eye, he perceived a
-figure standing at the edge of the little swirling river. There was
-plenty of water in the Sweir just now, as it swept through the rich soft
-mould here, where it formed the boundary of the home park. Robinson
-Crusoe's gesture of disgust and fear, when he saw the first savage upon
-his island home, was very similar to that made by Mr. Capt when he
-discerned the tall figure of Blogg, the head keeper, leaning upon his
-gun. Robinson Crusoe was a pious Englishman, as we know, but Capt being
-an irreligious foreigner, gave vent to his feelings in a continental
-oath. The keeper's back was towards Capt, and his eyes were fixed upon
-the fast-hurrying waters of the swollen stream; the valet, though he was
-a good six hundred yards off, retraced his steps upon tip-toe in his
-great anxiety not to attract the keeper's attention. When he was well
-out of sight, having put the rising ground once more between himself and
-Blogg, he lighted a cigar, and recommenced his walk, making a long
-circuit, but as if drawn by some irresistible magnetism, his feet once
-more, ere the cigar was finished, brought him to the banks of the Sweir
-and the entrance to the dell. This time Mr. Capt was not so fortunate,
-for the keeper's eyes met his the instant he made his appearance. The
-fact is that Blogg had been standing chewing the cud of his reflections,
-or possibly thinking about nothing at all, during the five and twenty
-minutes' circuit that Capt had made. There is a considerable difference
-in position between a head keeper and his master's valet. Blogg
-recognized the fact, for though he didn't touch his hat to Capt, he
-didn't presume to shake hands with him, and he addressed him with marked
-deference.
-
-"Mornin', sir," he said.
-
-"Good morning, Mr. Blogg," replied the valet affably; "on duty, I
-suppose."
-
-"Lor' bless you, a keeper's always on duty; leastways a head keeper is."
-
-The two men walked along amicably side by side.
-
-"I daresay it seems to you," continued Blogg, "more like loafing than
-duty, for me to go mouching round the best part of the day, aye, and at
-times the best part of the night, too, with this here gun. Not that
-we're troubled much with poachers here about, they're mostly amytoors
-here, but they're as full o' tricks as a bag full o' monkeys. I'm mostly
-a match for 'em you know, for I was a regular myself once, as you can
-remember. Ah, many's the dark night as I went out a-wirin' in King's
-Warren parish. I don't know as there weren't more enjyment in those
-days. We were both younger then, Muster Capt," said the keeper with a
-sigh.
-
-"Ah, but think of your position now," said Capt, who wished to put the
-man in a good humour, that he might all the sooner shake him off.
-
-"Position ain't everything. A head keeper's life is as anxious a time as
-a frog's in a frying-pan, a hot frying-pan, ye mind me; it's not all
-tips and perquisites; it's information here and information there, it's
-night lines in the river and the lake, its wirin' and steel trappin',
-when it ain't ferrettin' and fish-pison, and what with the boys as cums
-after the antlers and the nestes, and the children as cums after the
-blackberries, and the radicals as keeps a dog, a man's hands is very
-full indeed."
-
-"You must have an anxious time," said the sympathizing Capt.
-
-"Ah, you may well say that," replied the keeper; "why, in my young days
-the boys they cum after the nestes, and the men they cum after the game,
-as is perhaps natural after all, but now they cums after everything.
-They even grubs up the ferns and the primroses with irons made
-a-purpose. Why, one of they fern chaps would think nothing of clearing
-half an acre in a mornin'. They comes after the butterflies with their
-nets, and a botanizing with their tin candle boxes, and trespassin'
-comes natural to them. Why, only the other day I caught a feller
-bottling mud out of a pond, and a-catchin' newts and such like. 'What's
-your business here?' I said. 'I'm collecting quattic animals,' said he.
-'And I suppose you've got permission?' 'Don't you be insolent, my man,'
-he said; and he shakes his finger at me, for all the world like the
-Sunday-school teacher used to shake his finger at me when I was a
-little bit of a chap. 'Don't you try to stop the march of science, my
-man,' says he. 'I don't care nothin' about the march of science,' says
-I; 'but if you don't hand over the pair of antlers as you've got up your
-back, I'll wallop you, master. And after I've walloped you, you and
-science can march where you please.' But what makes my life a burden to
-me," continued the keeper, still airing his grievances, "is vermin."
-
-Capt started.
-
-"What with the weasels, the stoats, and such-like, a man need have his
-eyes open."
-
-"Yes," said Capt; "you need all your powers of observation, I suppose."
-
-"You're right there," assented the keeper; "it ain't much as escapes
-me."
-
-By this time they had reached the middle of the glen, and were within a
-dozen paces of Mr. Capt's secret store-house. Greatly to the valet's
-disgust the keeper now produced a lump of tobacco from his pocket, and
-commenced with his knife to carefully shred off the quantity necessary
-for filling his pipe; he stopped to satisfactorily complete the delicate
-operation, then, with great care, he lighted the little black clay
-cutty. The keeper got his pipe into full swing, the two men were about
-to proceed on their walk, but Blogg suddenly laid his hand on the
-valet's arm and pointed at the beech tree.
-
-"It's many a man," he said sententiously, "as would walk by that tree
-and see nothing particular about it," and he stared at the tree in
-curiosity. "Aren't you well, Muster Capt?" he said suddenly, as the
-expression on the valet's face attracted his attention.
-
-The valet's countenance had become of an ashen grey, and drops of
-perspiration stood upon his brow as he seized the keeper's arm.
-
-"I am feeling very queer," he said.
-
-"You look as if you'd seen a ghost," said his friendly fellow-servant.
-"Take a pull at that," said Blogg, producing a small flask from one of
-the capacious pockets of his moleskin coat. "I'll get ye a drop of
-water," he continued, removing the little metal cup from the bottom of
-the flask.
-
-Half-a-dozen strides brought the keeper to the banks of the Sweir, but
-getting the cup full of water was not such a very easy matter. The
-keeper flung himself upon the turf at the edge of the rapidly running
-stream, but ere he did so he took the precaution to stamp, with one foot
-in advance, upon the edge. The reason he did this was obvious, for the
-soft bank was undercut by the rush of waters. He filled the little cup,
-and returned with it to his companion, incidentally remarking, "The
-banks are plaguy dangerous just here. Do ye feel better now?" he said
-with solicitude.
-
-"Yes, I'm better now," said the valet.
-
-"You look uncommon bad," returned the sympathetic keeper.
-
-"And I feel so, Blogg," the other replied; "give me your arm, I must
-lean on something. I think I'll get home at once."
-
-"Just an instant, Muster Capt," said the keeper; "there's some artful
-game or other been a-doin' with that beech; some chap has gone and
-plugged the hole of it with a lump of moss; as like as not he's got a
-shopful of wires there now. I'll just put my hand in and find out what
-they've been up to with it."
-
-"Get me home first, Blogg, if you can," hurriedly interrupted the valet,
-clutching his arm. "I feel," said he, with simulated anxiety, "I feel as
-if I were going to die."
-
-"I won't keep ye a minute, Capt, but duty's duty," answered Blogg.
-
-"Don't be a fool, man," cried the valet in an authoritative tone; "there
-are seven days in the week, and you can search the hole, if there is a
-hole, to-morrow as well as to-day."
-
-But Blogg was an obstinate man. "You're woundy masterful, Capt, for a
-man who thinks he's a-dying," said the keeper with an honest laugh.
-"I'll see what's in the hole; and then, if you ask me, why, I'll carry
-you to the Castle pick-a-pack, if you like." And then Blogg marched up
-to the beech tree and picked the moss away from the hole. He removed the
-stone, and turning to the valet, with a triumphant guffaw he cried, "I
-told 'ee so, Muster Capt. I said as how there was a game going on," and
-then he plucked the little packet from its hiding-place.
-
-Maurice Capt was a determined man. Should he allow the cherished plan of
-twenty years to be ruined by the curiosity of a clod? The packet was in
-the keeper's hands. Like Alnaschar's dream of wealth, all the valet's
-plans and schemings, all his fondest hopes of affluence, would be kicked
-down in an instant. He well knew the dogged honesty of the man; the
-packet, now within the keeper's grasp, was as good as in Lord Pit Town's
-hands. All this passed through his mind in the twinkling of an eye, and
-as the keeper flung himself once more upon the ground, the Swiss valet
-advanced over the soft turf towards his prostrate form with noiseless
-cat-like step. Maurice Capt had made up his mind. He flung himself upon
-the keeper's throat with the ferocity of a tiger, and proceeded to
-attempt to throttle his adversary from behind. But the keeper was a
-powerful man. Although Capt's long fingers were tightly fixed upon his
-windpipe, and the astonished man was taken at a great disadvantage, yet
-the keeper did his best to rid himself of the remorseless adversary who
-was savagely attempting to strangle the life out of him. He couldn't
-call for help, and he didn't attempt it; but he struggled bravely, he
-drove his heavy boots into the soft turf, and succeeded once even in
-rising to his knees, only to be forced back again upon his face by the
-furious efforts of the Swiss. Blogg's eyes were nearly starting from his
-head, and his mouth literally foamed, from the cruel tightening grip
-upon his throat. But the force of his muscular fingers, which wrenched
-in vain at the iron wrists of the valet, began to relax. Even a strong
-man cannot fight long when deprived of air. As the light of triumph came
-into the valet's eyes, for he felt that slowly but surely he was choking
-the very life out of his victim, the vengeance of heaven suddenly
-overtook the aggressor. The overhanging bank of soft earth all at once
-gave way; assailant and assailed, and the very earth they struggled on,
-fell with a dull splash into the rushing stream.
-
-Yet another few seconds, and the long lithe fingers of the Swiss would
-have completed their deadly work. As he felt himself falling, he
-relaxed his grasp of the keeper's throat, in the natural instinct of
-self-preservation. Before his mouth reached the water, the hapless Blogg
-got one great draught of air into his capacious chest, but Capt had too
-nearly effected his work, and the keeper was practically almost
-insensible. The only effect of this last breath of life, that chance,
-and not the mercy of his adversary, had given him, was to make his
-muscular fingers clutch the struggling wrists of his murderer with a
-more vice-like grasp. The assailant and assailed had now changed places
-as they sank beneath the black waters. The valet's sole efforts now were
-directed to escape from the tenacious grip of the still struggling man.
-As well might a cur attempt to shake off an infuriated bull-dog who had
-once fixed his remorseless fangs in his throat. They sank beneath the
-waters, and, still violently struggling, reappeared again and again as
-they were spun round and round by the rushing stream. But not for long.
-
-The little packet escaped from Blogg's fingers and floated rapidly away
-down the stream. The would-be murderer sunk to the muddy bottom dead,
-and honest Blogg struck out and scrambled up the bank of the rushing
-Sweir.
-
-"Blame me," he cried, as he shook himself like a great water dog, "blame
-me if I don't think Muster Capt went clean mad; why, he nigh on
-strangled me," and then he stared at the hurrying, rushing waters. "Poor
-chap, he have gone to his account. I wonder what was in that little
-bundle though!"
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The dark waters of the Sweir have closed for ever over the crafty wretch
-who had so lately held the destinies of a noble family within his grasp.
-Poor Lucy's secret has disappeared for ever beneath the raging waters of
-the little river. The oath that Lucy Warrender extracted from her
-cousin at the Villa Lambert more than twenty years ago will have been
-kept but too well, and the secret will probably remain for ever
-undiscovered. And will young George Haggard be any the worse, seeing
-that he is robbed of his birthright? We know that Lord Pit Town's will
-has practically made him a very wealthy man. The mills of heaven's
-justice grind slowly perhaps at times, but they go on turning and
-grinding for ever. Lucius Haggard, who in his black and bitter heart
-knows that he is but an undetected impostor, may never marry, may even
-predecease the half-brother who was born in lawful wedlock. She, the
-silent invalid, may yet perhaps speak, or the hollow beech tree may
-perchance give up its secret.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Many things can happen in a couple of years. To-day the old lord and the
-German doctor still chat and doze in the great picture galleries; and
-George's mother, beautiful still in life's sad evening, yet wonders
-whether she shall ever meet again in another world the dead husband who
-betrayed her, but whom she has forgiven long ago. As she lies on her
-sofa in the pretty room heavy with the scent of flowers, which has been
-hers for many a long year, her eye brightens, and the soft colour comes
-back momentarily to the pale cheek, as she hears the manly step of her
-dear son George; her own son, her very own son, her best beloved.
-
-He is dressed in deepest mourning; and he wears it for Lucius Haggard,
-the man who would have robbed him of his birthright.
-
-"Mother! dear mother!" he says, as he gently takes her hand.
-
-There is no more to tell. And now the prompter claps his hand upon his
-little bell, and down comes the green curtain upon the drama of human
-love, of human passion, selfishness and greed, upon the end of the
-family mystery with which it has been the author's privilege to try and
-interest the reader.
-
-
-    THE END.
-
-
-PRINTED BY
-KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C.;
-AND MIDDLE MILL, KINGSTON-ON-THAMES.
-
-
-
-
-      *      *      *      *      *
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber's note:
-
-Although most printer's errors have been retained, some changes have
-been made silently in spelling, punctuation, capitalization, and
-accents. Variations have been made consistent.
-
-
-
-***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIT TOWN CORONET, VOLUME III (OF
-3)***
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