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diff --git a/42169-0.txt b/42169-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b18ce8c --- /dev/null +++ b/42169-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3686 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42169 *** + +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 42169 *** |