HOW THE CHASE WAS ENDED
Mr Samuel Collyer was seated in his office. Spread open on the table
in front of him was Mr George Burton's will, which apparently he had
just been studying. The study seemed to have afforded him amusement.
Leaning back in his chair, he smiled. He referred to his watch.
'Twenty minutes past; they will soon be here. On these occasions,
punctuality ought to be the rule, and generally is. George Burton was
a curious man, and left a curious will. And yet I don't know. Why
should I, or anyone, call it curious? By what right? When a man has
neither wife nor children, and his only kindred are a couple of
nephews to whom he is not particularly attached, surely he has a right
to do as he likes with his own. It is his own--as yet. And if he
chooses to attach to the succession certain conditions which appeal,
we'll say, to his sense of humour, what title has anyone, lawyer or
layman, to comment adversely on the expression of his wishes? So long
as they are not in opposition to the general welfare of the body
politic, it seems to me none. In a sense, most wills are curious, when
you get right into them and understand their ins and outs. I daresay
mine will be. I'm a bachelor. Upon my word, I don't know who has the
best claim to the few pence I shall leave. Why shouldn't I ornament my
testamentary dispositions with a few characteristic touches? Why not?'
While the lawyer propounded to himself this knotty problem, two
visitors were shown in--Mr Holland, again upon Miss Broad's arm. He
still was not himself. The effects of the sand-bag, which the Flyman
had used with more enthusiasm than he had perhaps intended, had not
yet all vanished. He seemed uncertain about his capacity to steer
himself. He did not carry himself so upright as was his wont. There
was a look upon his face which it had not previously worn--of
indecision, irresolution, as if he was not quite master of his mental
faculties. That sandbag had landed on the brain. Miss Broad seemed to
regard him as if he were a child; she watched over him as if he were
one, and it must be allowed that he appeared to appreciate to the full
her tender care.
The diplomatic lawyer chose not to see the things which were patent.
His greeting was,--
'I am glad to see you, Mr Holland, looking so much yourself. I was
grieved to hear that you had had an accident.'
'Accident!' The reiteration was Miss Broad's. 'You call it accident!'
'My dear young lady, the words which lawyers use are not always
intended to bear their strict dictionary significance.'
Another visitor was announced--Mr Horace Burton, as much at his ease
as ever. Miss Broad blazed up at sight of him.
'You dare to come here!'
'Dare! Collyer, who's this young lady? Oh, it's Miss Broad, my future
cousin. May I ask, Letty--you'll let me call you Letty?--why you
should speak of my "daring" to come to my own lawyer's office? Hallo,
Guy, you look squiffy! Buck up, my boy!'
He would have saluted his cousin with his open palm upon the back had
not Miss Broad caught his arm as it was descending and flung it away.
He gazed at her with what was meant for admiration.
'You are a warm one, Letty, really now! If you propose to slang Guy,
as you seem fond of slanging me, you ought to have a pot of money to
make it worth his while. He's likely to find marriage with you an
expensive luxury, my dear.'
Mr Holland half rose from the chair on which Miss Broad had placed
him. He spoke with hesitating tongue.
'You had better be careful--what you say.'
His relative laughed.
'You'd better be careful what you say, or you'll tumble down.'
Miss Broad laid her hand on Mr Holland's shoulder.
'Never mind what he says. I don't. He's not worth noticing.'
'Do you hear that, Collyer? Isn't she severe? But let's to business.
I'm not come to engage in a tongue-match with a lady. The three months
are up. Where's the ruby?'
Mr Collyer spoke.
'May I ask, Mr Holland, if you're in possession of the ring in
question?'
It was Miss Broad who answered.
'No, he is not. Miss Bewicke calls herself his friend, and she even
pretends to be mine, but her friendship does not go far enough to
induce her to hand over property to its rightful owner which was never
hers.'
Comment from Mr Burton,--
'How sad! That's very wrong of her. Shows such deplorable
moral blindness, doesn't it? She is a wicked woman, is May
Bewicke--heartless, hypocritical, selfish to the core. Well, Collyer,
anyhow that settles it. The money's mine, and I give you my personal
assurance I can do with it.'
'I have not the slightest doubt of that, Mr Burton; but, before we
conclude, there is something which I have been instructed to hand to
Mr Holland. It was for that purpose I requested your presence here.
Permit me, Mr Holland, to hand you this.'
From a drawer in his writing-table the lawyer produced a small parcel.
When Mr Holland had undone, with somewhat shaky fingers, the outer
covering, it was seen that within was a leather-covered case. Inside
was a note, which he unfolded.
'Dear Guy,' it ran, 'this is a wedding present from yours, MAY
BEWICKE.'
'This' was a ring--the ring--the famous ruby.
While they gathered round it, with a babble of voices, and Mr Burton
showed himself disposed to bluster, Miss Bewicke herself appeared at
the door with Mr Bryan Dumville. She advanced to Mr Holland and Miss
Broad.
'My dear children, how are you both? So you have the ring? That's all
right. Directly I heard of the will, I sent it to Mr Collyer--he's my
uncle, don't you know? I thought it would be safer with him than it
would be with me. A lone, lorn woman's rooms are always open to the
machinations of the most dreadful characters, and you never know what
may happen--burglaries and all sorts of things. And you see I do call
myself Guy's friend, and I even pretend, Letty, to be yours. Don't I,
Bryan, dear?'
Some of the latter words suggested that the little lady had been
listening outside the door. Mr Dumville confined his attention to Mr
Horace Burton.
'So it's you again? I shall have to kill you after all.'
Actually Mr Burton did not seem altogether at his ease.
'I suppose, Guy, you couldn't let me have a thousand pounds to get
away with?' He laughed. 'No; it's no good. You'd better let me have it
when I come out. They're waiting for me outside. A thousand would only
be a drop in the sea. They wouldn't let me make a bolt of it for
that.'
As he said, certain persons were waiting for him in the street. When
he appeared, and it was discovered that he was not to have his uncle's
money, within an hour he was arrested on a charge of forgery. It was a
remarkable case, and not a savoury one. Neither prosecutors nor
prisoner showed to advantage; but as it was clearly proved that Mr
Horace Burton had forged, and put into circulation, a large number of
acceptances and other legal documents, the jury had no option but to
find him guilty. A hard-headed judge sent him to penal servitude for
fourteen years.
The Flyman soon followed him, it was understood, to the same prison.
His was a charge of robbery with violence in the City Road. The
sand-bag again. As there were previous convictions against him, he
suffered badly.
Mr Thomas Cox is still at large. He was seen lately on the cliff at
Margate, with his wife and daughter, lounging on a chair listening to
the band. He looked well and flourishing--an illustration of a sound
mind in a sound body. But one never knows.
Mr Guy Holland and Mr Bryan Dumville were married at the same church,
at the same time, on the same day. They are the best of friends. Their
wives swear by one another. Mrs Guy Holland is convinced that Mrs
Bryan Dumville is the most charming woman on the English stage, just
as Mrs Bryan Dumville is certain that Mrs Guy Holland is the
altogether most delightful person off it.
THE END
EDINBURGH
COLSTON AND COY. LIMITED
PRINTERS