Part 67 (2/2)
A long silence now ensued between us. Each seemed to feel that another word might act like a spark in a magazine, and produce a fearful explosion; and so we sat, scarcely daring to look each other in the face. As we remained thus, my eyes fell upon the paper in his hand, and read the following words: ”Son of Walter Carew, of Castle Carew, and Josephine de Courtois, his wife,” I s.n.a.t.c.hed the doc.u.ment from his fingers, and read on. ”The proof of this marriage wanting, but supposed to have been solemnized at or about the year 1780 or '81. No trace of Mademoiselle de Courtois' family obtainable, save her relations.h.i.+p to Count de Gabriac, who died in England three years ago. The youth Jasper Carew served in the Bureau of the Minister of War at Paris in '95, and was afterwards seen in the provinces, supposed to be employed by the Legitimist party as an agent; traced thence to England, and believed to have gone to America, or the West Indies.” Then followed some vague speculations as to where and how this youth was possibly employed, and some equally delusive guesses as to the signs by which he might be recognized.
”Does that interest you, Gervois?” said Ysaffich. ”This is the best part of the narrative, to my thinking; read that, and say if your heart does not bound at the very notion of such a prize.”
The paper which he now handed to me was closely and carefully written, and headed, ”Descriptive sketch of the lands and estate of the late Walter Carew, Esq., known as the demesne of Castle Carew, in the county of Wicklow, in Ireland.”
”Two thousand seven hundred acres of a park, and a princely mansion!”
exclaimed the Count. ”An estate of at least twelve thousand pounds a year! Gervois, my boy, why not attempt it?”
”You talk wildly, Ysaffich,” said I, restraining by a great effort the emotions that were almost suffocating me. ”Bethink you who I am,--poor, friendless, and unprotected. Take it, even, that I had the most indisputable right to this fortune; a.s.sume, if you will, that I am the very person here alluded to,--where is there a single doc.u.ment to prove my claim? Should I not be scouted at the bare mention of such pretensions?”
”That would all depend on the way the affair was managed,” said he. ”If these solicitors whose names and addresses I have here, were themselves convinced or even disposed to credit the truth of the tale we should tell them, they would embark in the suit with all their influence and all their wealth. Once engaged in it, self-interest would secure their zealous co-operation. As to doc.u.ments, proofs, and all that, these things are a material that lawyers know how to supply, or, if need be, explain the absence of. Of this missing youth's story I already know enough for our purpose; and when you have narrated for me your own life, we will arrange the circ.u.mstances together, and weave of the two one consistent and plausible tale. Take my word for it, that if we can once succeed in interesting counsel in your behalf, the very novelty of the incident will enlist public sympathy. Jurors are, after all, but representatives of that same pa.s.sing opinion, and will be well disposed to befriend our cause. I speak as if the matter must come to a head; but it need not go so far. When our plans are laid and all our advances duly prepared, we may condescend to treat with the enemy. Ay, Gervois, we may be inclined to accept a compromise of our claim. These things are done every day. The men who seem to sit in all the security of undisturbed possession are buying off demands here, paying hush-money to this man, and bribery to that.”
”But if the real claimant should appear on the stage--”
”I have reason to believe he is dead these many years,” said he, interrupting; ”but were it otherwise, these friends of his are of such a scrupulous temperament, they would not adventure on the suit without such a ma.s.s of proof as no concurrence of accidents could possibly acc.u.mulate. They have not the nerve to accomplish an undertaking of this kind, where much must be hazarded, and many things done at risk.”
”Which means, in plain words, done fraudulently,” said I, solemnly.
”Let us not fall out about words,” said he, smiling. ”When a state issues a paper currency, it waits for the day of prosperity to recall the issue and redeem the debt; and if we live and do well, what shall prevent us making an equally good use of our fortune? But you may leave all this to me; I will undertake every doc.u.ment, from the certificate of your father's marriage to your own baptism; I will legalize you and legitimatize you; you have only to be pa.s.sive.”
”I half suspect, Count,” said I, laughing, ”that if my claim to this estate were a real one, I should not be so sure of your aid and a.s.sistance.”
”And you are right there, Gervois. It is in the very daring and danger of this pursuit I feel the pleasure. The game on which I risk nothing has no excitement for me; but here the stake is a heavy one.”
”And how would you proceed?” asked I, not heeding this remark.
”By opening a correspondence with Bickering and Ragge, the lawyers. They have long been in search of the heir, and would be delighted to hear there were any tidings of his existence. My name is already known to them, and I could address them with confidence. They would, of course, require to see you, and either come over here or send for you. In either case you would be preceded by your story; the family parts should be supplied by me; the other details you should fill in at will. All this, however, should be concerted together. The first point is your consent,--your hearty consent; and even that I would not accept, unless ratified by a solemn oath, to persist to the last, and never falter nor give in to the end, whatever it be!”
I at first hesitated, but at last consented to give the required pledge; and though for a while it occurred to me that a frank avowal of my real claim to be the person designated might best suit the object I had in view, I suddenly bethought me that if Ysaffich once believed that he himself was not the prime mover in the scheme, and that I was other than a mere puppet in his hand, he was far more likely to mar than to make our fortune. Intrigue and trick were the very essence of the man's nature; and it was enough that the truthful entered into anything to destroy its whole value or interest in his eyes. That this plot had long been lying in his mind, I had but to remember the night in the garden at Hamburg to be convinced of, and since that time he had never ceased to ruminate upon it. Indeed, he now told me that it constantly occurred to him to fancy that this piece of success was to be a crowning recompense for a long life of reverses and failures.
How gladly did my thoughts turn from him and all his crafty counsels to think of that true friend, poor Raper, and my dear, dear mother, as I used to call her, who had, in the midst of their own hard trials, devoted their best energies to my cause. It is not necessary to say that Raper was the faithful clerk, and Polly the unknown lady who had given the impulse to this search. The papers, of which Ysaffich showed me several, were all in the handwriting of one or other of them; a few of my father's own letters were also in one packet, and though referring to matters far remote from this object, had an indescribable interest for me.
”Seven years ago,” said the Count, ”this estate was in the possession of a certain Mr. Curtis, who claimed to be the next of kin of the late owner, and who, I believe, was so, in the failure of this youth's legitimacy. This is now our great fact, since we have already found the individual. Eh, Gervois?” said he, laughing. ”Our man is here, and from this hour forth your name is--let me see what it is--ay, here we have it: Jasper Carew, son of Walter Carew and Josephine de Courtois, his wife.”
”Jasper Carew am I from this day, then, and never to be called by any other name,” said I.
”Ay, but you must have your lesson perfect,” said he; ”you must not forget the name of your parents.”
”Never fear,” said I; ”Walter Carew and Josephine de Courtois are easily remembered.”
”All correct,” said he, well pleased at my accuracy. ”Now, as to family history, this paper will tell you enough. It is drawn out by Mr. Raper, and is minutely exact. There is not a strong point of the case omitted, nor a weak one forgotten. Read it over carefully; mark the points in which you trace resemblance to your own life; study well where any divergence or difficulty may occur; and, lastly, draw up a brief memoir in the character of Jasper Carew, with all your recollections of childhood: for remember that up to the age of twelve or thirteen, if not later, you were domesticated with this Countess de Gabriac, and educated by Raper. After that you are free to follow out what fancy, or reality, if you like it better, may suggest. When you have drawn up everything, with all the consistency and plausibility you can, avoid none of the real difficulties, but rather show yourself fully aware of them, and also of all their importance. Let the task of having persuaded you to address Messrs. Bickering and Ragge be left to me; I have already held correspondence with them, and on this very subject. I give you three days to do this; meanwhile I start at once for Brussels, where I can consult a lawyer, an old friend of mine, as to our first steps in the campaign.”
The man who stoops once to a minute dissection of his life must perforce steel his heart against many a sense of shame, since even in the story of the good and the upright are pa.s.sages of dark omen, moments when the bad has triumphed, and seasons when the true has been postponed by the false. It is not now that, having revealed so much as I have done of my secret history, I dare make any pretensions to superior honesty, or affect to be one of the ”unblemished few.” Still, I have a craving desire not to be judged over harshly,--a painful feeling of anxiety that no evil construction should be put upon those actions of my life other than what they absolutely merit. My ”over-reachings” have been many,--my ”shortcomings” still more; but, with all their weight and gravity before me, I still entreat a merciful judgment, and hope that if the sentence be ”guilty,” there will be at least the alleviation of ”attenuating circ.u.mstances.”
I am now an old man; the world has no more any bribe to my ambition than have I within me the energy to attempt it. The friends.h.i.+ps that warmed up the late autumn of my life are departed; they lie in the churchyard, and none have ever replaced them. In these confessions, therefore, humiliating as they often would seem, there are none to suffer pain. I make them at the cost of my own feelings alone, and in some sense I do so as an act of atonement and reparation to a world that, with some hard lessons, has still treated me with kindness, and to whom, with the tremulous fingers of old age, I write myself most grateful.
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