Volume Iii Part 9 (1/2)

”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 _tete-a-tete_ with Lord Spunyarn, and did full justice to the cook's efforts. Lawyers are always epicures, and Mr. Brookes condescended to praise the _supreme 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 t.i.tle, 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 a.s.sert, Lord Spunyarn, that he was subst.i.tuted 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 n.o.ble family, the succession to a t.i.tle 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 G.o.d for that,” said the lawyer, as he wiped, his forehead with his big silk handkerchief, ”thank G.o.d 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.”