Part 15 (1/2)
”Well then, I'll take you at your word. I advise you to draw your pen right through that clause.”
”Why? Hilary is an irreclaimable scamp.”
”No, he is not.”
”Not, eh? 'St. Clair, St. Clair and Blachland.' Have you forgotten that, Canon?” snorted Sir Luke. ”_And_ Blachland! My nephew!”
”How long ago was that?”
”How long ago? Why, you know as well as I do. Six years. Rather over than under.”
”Yes. Six years is a long time. Time enough for a man to recognise that he has made worse than a fool of himself. How do you know that Hilary has not come to recognise that--is not doing all he can to wipe out that sin?”
”Exactly. How do I know? That's just it. He has never had the grace or decency to let me know that he has--to let me know whether he's dead or alive.” The other smiled to himself. ”That's not the solitary one of his carryings on, either. Yes. He's an out-and-out scamp.”
”I don't agree with you, Canterby. The very fact that he has refrained from communicating with you makes for the contrary. It is a sign of grace. Had he been the scamp you--_don't_ believe him to be, you'd have heard from him fast enough, with some pitiful appeal for a.s.sistance.”
”But he ought to have let me hear. I might be thinking him dead.”
”Well, the last thing you told him was that he ought to be. If I recollect rightly, you strongly recommended him to go and blow his brains out.”
”Well, he didn't. He went off with the woman instead.”
”That isn't to say he's with her now.”
”I'm surprised at you, Canon,” snorted Sir Luke. ”Hanged if I ever thought to find you defending--er--vice.”
”And you haven't found me doing so yet. But everything has to be determined on its own merits.”
”But there aren't any merits in this case. It was a bad case, sir, a rotten bad case.”
”Well, we'll say demerits then, if you prefer it. Now there are, or were, two extenuating circ.u.mstances in this particular one--the personality of the woman, and--heredity. For the first I have seen her, for the second, Hilary's father. You knew him pretty well, Canterby, but I knew him even better than you did.”
”But what would you have me do? I daren't put him into possession of large responsibilities. He has disgraced his family as it is. I can't have him coming here one day, and disgracing it further.”
”You would rather put Percival into the position then?”
”Of course. He would fill it worthily. The other wouldn't.”
”I don't know about that. I am perfectly certain about one thing, and that is that Percival himself would never accept it at the expense of his cousin, if he knew he was to do so. That boy has a rarely chivalrous soul, and he used almost to wors.h.i.+p Hilary.”
”Pooh! That wouldn't go so far as to make him deliberately choose to be left nearly a pauper in order to benefit the other,” sneered Sir Luke.
But he was a man who did not sneer well. It was not natural to him to sneer at all--therefore his sneer was not convincing.
”I don't agree with you, Canterby. I believe he would. There are some few natures like that, thank Heaven, although it must be conceded they are marvellously scarce. But he need not 'be left a pauper'--though that of course rests with you--and that without doing the other any injustice--and yourself too. For you know as well as I do, Luke, that Hilary holds and always will hold the first place in your heart.”
”And the same holds good of Percy in regard to yours, eh, Canon? Yet you are arguing against him for all you know how.”
”I am arguing against you, not against him. You invited remark upon the contents of this doc.u.ment, Luke, and asked me to advise you, and I have done my best to comply with both desires. Don't be in a hurry to commit an act of injustice which you yourself may bitterly repent when it is too late, and past remedying. You are at present sore and vindictive against Hilary, but you know perfectly well in your heart of hearts that he is to you as your own and only son. Stretch out a hand of blessing over him from beyond the grave, not one of wrath and retribution and judgment.”