We were at breakfast next morning, Mistress Pennyquick and I, when
Captain Galsworthy, after a herald tap on the door, walked into the
room.
"What's this cock-and-bull story that's running over the town?" he
cried without circumstance.
Before I could reply, Mistress Pennyquick began to pour out her
tale of woe, roundly accusing Sir Richard Cludde and Lawyer Vetch
of conspiring to defraud me of my rights.
"I haven't slept a wink the whole night through, sir," says the
poor soul, "and I've wetted six--no, 'tis seven handkerchers till
they're like clouts from the washtub, and I can hardly see out o'
my eyes, and--"
"Stuff and nonsense and a fiddlestick end!" cries the captain
angrily, "dry your eyes, woman. Of all God's creatures a sniveling
woman is the worst. Vetch has been wool gathering:
"Quandoque dormitat Homerus--eh, Humphrey?--
"Which means, ma'am, that you sometimes catch a weasel asleep.
Depend on't, he engrossed the wrong docket, and by this time has
discovered the true will in one of his moldy boxes. Gad, it'll ruin
him, though--if his nephew has not done it already. A family lawyer
can't afford to be caught napping.
"Put on your cap, Humphrey: we'll go and look into things and hint
that we must change our attorney."
So he and I set off together. But, early as it was, Sir Richard
Cludde had been before us. When we entered Mr. Vetch's office,
there was the burly knight with his hand on the door, flinging a
parting word at the lawyer, who sat behind his desk with his wig
awry, the picture of harassment and woe. Sir Richard gave a curt
nod to the captain, but vouchsafed me not a glance.
"You understand, Mr. Attorney?" he said. "The present occupants
will vacate the premises within a week, and you will bring me the
keys."
Then he strode away, banging the door after him. The captain
whistled.
"Sits the wind--the whirlwind, I might say-in that quarter? Where's
the will, Vetch?"
"I would give my right hand to know," said the lawyer. "There is
Mr. Ellery's box"--he indicated a case of black tin with the name
John Ellery printed in white letters on its side; "'twas there I
laid it, with the title deeds and other documents. I searched it
through yesterday. I spent half the night in ransacking every other
box in the room, all to no purpose."
"You did not lay it aside when you had drawn it and afterwards
engross a blank paper like folded, think you?"
"Sir, 'tis impossible. I drew the will at a sitting: it was not a
long one; folded, engrossed, and tied it with my own hands. Nothing
short of witchcraft could undo my handiwork."
"Or your nephew," snapped the captain. "He is the boon fellow of
young Cludde; 'tis the Cluddes who gain by the disappearance, and
mightily glad they will be of the property if all is true that's
said of Sir Richard's affairs. Where's your nephew, Vetch?"
"At home and abed, Captain, suffering from a catarrh. I did ask him
if he knew aught of the matter, and he laughed and denied it,
reminding me that I had never trusted him with the keys. He is
wild, I own, sir; heady and self willed, a sore trial to me
sometimes; but he is of my name, and that name is honorable in
Shrewsbury."
"'Tut, man, nobody but a fool would suspect you of evil dealing,
and if your nephew had a hand in this it might be nought but a
boyish prank, though a deuced indecent one. But now to the
practical question: in the absence of the will, how does Humphrey
stand?"
I shall never forget the poor lawyer's look of misery when this
question was put to him, sharp as a pistol shot. He bent his quill
in his hand till it cracked; he fidgeted on his stool; he began a
sentence three times and left it unfinished.
"In a word," says the captain, who was ever for directness, "he is
a pauper?"
The lawyer bowed his head, but said never a word. Captain
Galsworthy began to drum on the table with his fingers, as his
manner was when perturbed. I sat silent, still too much under the
shadow of my great loss to comprehend the full bearing of his
words.
"Did you put it to Cludde?" he asked suddenly.
"I did, sir, with all the force of which I was capable. I begged
him to acquiesce in the known wishes of our friend, to accept the
draft of the will--here it is--taken 'down by myself from his lips.
Sir Richard looked at it, pished and pshawed, said he had never
held John Ellery's wits in much account, and declared that my
instructions were a clear proof of his feeble mindedness. When I
protested that I had never known a man with a clearer head or of
sounder sense he bellowed at me: what, did I think it sound sense
to will away to a stranger property that had been in the family for
generations?
"'No stranger,' I said, 'indeed, by marriage a kinsman of your own,
Sir Richard.'
"'No kinsman of mine!' he said, 'nor of my lady's neither. When I
married Susan Ellery I did not wed her brother, nor any beggar's
brat'--those were his words, sir--'any beggar's brat he was fool
enough to keep off the parish. If you had the will I'd dispute it
against all the attorneys in England.'
"He is a hard man, Captain. He demands possession in a week."
"And your draft has no value in law?"
"Not a whit, I am sorry to say."
"Then devil take the law," the captain snapped out.
"Hang me, I'll go myself and see Cludde and tell him what I think
of him."
"Not for me, Captain," said I, feeling my face burn. "I'll take
nothing from Sir Richard Cludde, beggar's brat as I am."
"You won't be a fool, Humphrey," said the captain. "Half a loaf is
better than no bread, and if I don't wring an allowance out of the
rogue, I'm a Dutchman."
The captain would have his way, in spite of my protestation. But he
returned from his visit to Cludde Court in a towering passion. The
knight refused point blank to acknowledge any claim upon him, and
swore that if Mistress Pennyquick and I were not out of the house
by the day he named, he would come with bailiffs and constables and
fling us out neck and crop.
Captain Galsworthy was more concerned than I was at the failure of
his well-meant intervention. In my ignorance of the world, and how
hardly it uses those who have nothing, I did not foresee, as my
wise old friend did, the arduous course I was to follow, nor the
many buffets in store for me, but thought, like many lads before
and since, that with the equipment of health and strength I could
ride a tilt against circumstance. Youth is green and unknowing, as
Mr. Dryden hath it, and sure 'tis a mercy.
Before the day was out, we had a piece of news that confirmed the
captain's suggestion as to the disappearance of the will. Cyrus
Vetch had vanished, together with the contents of his uncle's cash
box. When Mr. Vetch went home to his dinner, he found the cash box
broken open, and Cyrus gone. I could not doubt now that 'twas my
old enemy had wreaked on me the vengeance that had smouldered in
his breast ever since Joe Punchard sent him down Wyle Cop in the
barrel, and was fanned into a flame by my action on the night of
the adventure in Raven Street. Mistress Pennyquick was firm in her
belief that the Cluddes were party to the crime, but that I could
not credit then, and never will.
Mr. Vetch himself came to see me the next day. The poor old man was
quite broken down. He humbly begged my forgiveness for the trouble
he had brought upon me, for so he chose to regard it; and he
confessed to me, what I am sure he never revealed to a living soul
beside, that Cyrus had been for years a thorn in his flesh. He was
a spendthrift and a gambler, and had bled his uncle many a time to
discharge what he called his debts of honor. This drain upon the
lawyer, together with losses he had sustained in the failure of
Chamberlain's Land Bank scheme--that monstrous attempt of the
Tories to set up a rival to the Bank of England--had brought him to
the verge of ruin, and with tears in his eyes he expressed to me
his fear that the matter of my father's will would bring him into
such ill repute that the Shrewsbury folk would no longer trust him
and would give their business into other hands.
This set me a-thinking, and during the week I was allowed to remain
in the old farmhouse I turned over in my mind a plan which, I own,
mightily pleased me. It was clear that I must do something for
myself. I had never had any great liking for farming work, and now
that the position of a yeoman on my own land was denied me I was
not inclined to accept service on the land of another. Mr. Lloyd,
the master of the school, when I went to take leave of him, was
kind enough to say that he would use his interest to obtain for me
a servitorship at Oxford or a sizarship at Cambridge, which would
put me in the way of making a livelihood as a tutor or perhaps as a
parson. But I was not in the mind to be any more subsistent on
charity, even of this modified sort, nor had I indeed any hope of
achieving excellence in the classical tongues, so I thanked him,
but declined his offer.
The idea that had entered my noddle was that I might join Mr.
Vetch, and do something in the practice of law to make amends for
the ill fortune which, unwittingly and indirectly, I had been the
means of bringing upon him. When I had made up my mind, I mooted
the project to Captain Galsworthy, who laughed at it as quixotic,
but confessed that he saw no better course open to me.
"I had liever you took up a more active trade--one in which you
could put to use the sciences you have learned of me," said the old
warrior. "But that would take you from Shrewsbury, to be sure, and
I should miss our little bouts, Humphrey boy. And when you come to
think of it, a man needn't be the worse lawyer for a passable
dexterity with the small sword."
Mr. Vetch was quite overcome when I set my proposal before him. He
embraced it eagerly, drew out my articles at once, and swore that I
would be his salvation. And as I must needs have somewhere to live,
he insisted on my taking up my abode with him; he had a roomy
house, he said, and I need not occupy Cyrus' chamber unless I
pleased.
"But what about poor old Becky?" I said. "She is really harder hit
by this unlucky affair than I, and 't would break her heart to go
to the poor house."
"Let her come, too," said Mr. Vetch. "My housekeeper is leaving me;
the fates are conspiring in our favor, you see. Let her come and
mother us both, and I will give her twenty pounds a year."
I had as yet broken nothing of my designs to Mistress Pennyquick,
foreseeing trouble in that quarter. It was pitiful to see her, who
had been such a bustling housewife, sitting the greater part of the
day with her hands in her lap, or dabbing the tears from her eyes,
and to hear her melancholy plaints, which grew the more frequent as
the time drew nearer for leaving the old house. After concluding my
arrangement with Mr. Vetch I went back to the farmhouse, flung my
cap into a chair, and, sitting across the corner of the table,
said:
"Only two days more, Becky."
"And what will become of us I don't know," says the old woman.
"'Tis the poor house for me, and water gruel, and I've had my
rasher regular for forty year. And as for you, my poor lamb, never
did I think I'd live to see you put on an apron, and say 'What d'ye
lack, Madam?' to stuck-up folks as'll look on ye as so much dirt."
"What's this talk of aprons?" says I, laughing.
"How can ye laugh?" she says, the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Beggars can't be choosers, and ye'll have to ask Mr. Huggins to
have pity on ye and take ye into his shop, and ye'll tie up sugar
and coffee for Susan Cludde belike, and--oh, deary me!"
"Nonsense, Becky," says I. "I shan't have that pleasure. I'm going
to join Mr. Vetch."
"What!" she shrieks.
"'Tis true. Mr. Vetch has given me my articles, and instead of
tying up coffee and sugar I shall tie deeds and conveyances and
become a most respectable lawyer."
"Oh! 'twill kill me!" she moans. "Of all the dreadful news I ever
heard! And wi' Lawyer Vetch, too; the man as devours widows' houses
and makes away with good men's wills! I wish I were in my grave, I
do!"
"Wouldn't you rather be with me, Becky?" I said, smiling at her.
"'Tis cruel to talk so," she cried, sobbing. "How can I be with
'ee? What you get from Lawyer Vetch won't keep two--if you get
anything at all. They say his nephew has ruined him--the wretch!
Indeed, if you ask me, I say you'll get more from Mr. Huggins than
from the lawyer. You'll have enough to do to keep yourself, without
being saddled with a poor, forlorn old widow woman."
"But won't you come? I am going to live with Mr. Vetch."
"Live with the devil!" she screamed, lifting her hands with a
gesture of utter despair. "It is downright wicked of you,
Humphrey--and your poor father not a week in the grave. Sure the
end of the world be coming, when the leopard and the kid shall lie
down together, and the lion shall eat straw like the ox."
"And donkeys won't bray, I suppose," says I. "There, I don't mean
you, Becky, though you are an old goose. Mr. Vetch wants a
housekeeper, and you are to come with me and mother us both, he
says, and he'll give you twenty pounds a year."
The good creature's look sent me into a fit of laughter. She stared
solemnly at me for a while through her tears, saying never a word.
Then the drooping corners of her mouth lifted; she folded her hands
across her plump person and said:
"Your father only gave me eighteen, Humphrey: are you sure 'twas
twenty the lawyer said?"
"Quite sure. The devil isn't as black as he's painted, eh Becky?"
"Ah! you never know a man till yon've lived with him. Pennyquick
was--but there, he's gone, poor soul, as we all must, and tis ill
work saying anything against one as can't answer ye back: not that
Pennyquick was ever much of a hand at that, poor soul!"
I heard no more vilification of Mr. Vetch. Becky recovered her old
activity with surprising ease, and went about the house collecting
such personal belongings of her own and mine as the lawyer told us
we might remove without question. He himself came to the house on
our last day, and made an inventory of the articles we removed, and
having seen these safely bestowed in a pannier on the back of Ben
Ivimey's son, who came to carry them away, we shut the doors of the
old place, Mr. Vetch pocketed the keys, and we set off for the
town.
Mistress Pennyquick shed a plenitude of tears, and I had a
monstrous lump in my throat that threatened to choke me if I tried
to speak. With a discretion that raised him mightily in Becky's
esteem, Mr. Vetch fell behind, leaving us two together; and so with
full hearts we took the road, going into our new life hand in hand.