The assertion made by the stranger, which had so unexpectedly raised the
siege of the Hall, created the most painful doubts in the minds of Mr
and Mrs Clavering. At the time of their child's birth Mr Clavering
had been away, and his conscience told him that it had been for the sake
of his own gratification and amusement. The housekeeper and several
other servants in the Hall at the time had been dismissed for
misconduct, and, from circumstances which occurred, Mrs Clavering had
no proof or certainty whatever that her child had not been changed.
Seldom has a mother been placed in a more painful position. Another
circumstance which gave the statement a greater air of truth was, that
the woman Hobby had been employed at the Hall at the time Mrs
Clavering's child was born, that she herself was said to have given
birth to an infant shortly afterwards, and that certainly a boy had been
brought up by her who was now known as John Hobby. She was by some
means or other better off than her neighbours. Young Hobby was always
well dressed and well cared for, and had been sent to the best village
school the neighbourhood afforded; so that, considered only a cottager's
child, he soon became the associate on equal terms of the sons of the
well-to-do farmers in the neighbourhood. Mrs Hobby had not spoiled
him; and John Hobby the elder, who was a conscientious man, had, to the
best of his power, done his duty by him, and given him such religious
instruction as he was able. He was also a firm, mild-tempered man, and
had never failed firmly and gently to punish him whenever he committed a
fault.
The morning after the events which have been described, Mr Clavering
met his guests at the breakfast-table with a calmer countenance than
could have been expected.
"You all heard the strange assertion made last night, and saw the effect
it produced," he observed. "In its truth I am not inclined to believe,
though I shall, of course, make the most searching inquiry as to the
origin of the report. I have sent for the youth, the supposed rival of
Ralph, and I am endeavouring to discover the person who last night made
the statement which probably saved the Hall from destruction. I cannot
look upon him otherwise than as a friend."
"Then, uncle, I will tell you who he is," exclaimed Lilly, eagerly; "I
recognised his voice. He is Arnold the gipsy. I was certain of it the
moment he began speaking."
"Those gipsies pick up strange tales, which can seldom be relied on,"
observed one of the guests.
"I should think not," exclaimed Ralph Clavering, whose features had been
much agitated since he took his seat at the table, but who had
endeavoured to preserve a calm demeanour. "You are not going to discard
me as your son, I hope, merely from the assertion of a vagabond gipsy?"
"No, indeed, Ralph, my dear boy; but you would surely wish the report to
be inquired into," said Mr Clavering, calmly.
Lilly had come round, and put her hand on his shoulder.
"Whatever is the case, dear Ralph, I will be your sister-cousin as long
as we live," she said, in her sweet, gentle voice. "Endeavour to bear
this great trial well; you can if you strive properly."
Ralph bent his head down between his hands, and bursting into tears,
murmured--
"But it is very hard to bear."
It was the first time in his life that he had ever shown signs of a
softened heart, and it made Lilly inwardly rejoice, for she had expected
to see him fly out, and abuse Hobby as a vile impostor, and, as it were,
strike right and left at any one who ventured to question that he was
the lawful heir of Clavering Hall. She observed, also, that during the
day, though occasionally moody, he was far less dictatorial and haughty
in his manner towards others than usual, while to her he was especially
gentle and polite.
Mr Clavering attended the magistrates' meeting, and not unmindful of
his promise to his niece, succeeded in getting the young gipsy, Arnold's
son, discharged, though the evidence against him would, perhaps, have
been sufficient in those days, to convict him, had he not had a friend
to speak in his favour.
In the evening young John Hobby, with Mrs Hobby, arrived at the Hall.
She was given in charge of the housekeeper, with strict orders to
prevent her from communicating with any one. John was habited in his
Sunday suit, and with his good looks and modest and unassuming yet
unembarrassed manners, he won many sympathisers. He was extremely
astonished to find himself at the Hall, for he had not heard the report
promulgated by Arnold, nor had he nor Mrs Hobby been told why they had
been sent for.
When the young gipsy had been discharged, Mr Clavering told him that he
wished to see his father; but it was not till another day had nearly
passed that Arnold made his appearance. There could be little doubt
that he was well aware of the object for which he had been requested to
come to the Hall, though Mrs Hobby and John had been kept out of his
way.
A lawyer had come down from London, and two or three other friends
remained at the Hall to assist Mr Clavering in investigating the case.
Arnold was first brought up. His story was very simple. He had no
personal interest whatever in young Hobby. He had obtained the
information through his wife, who, in the course of her calling of
fortune-telling, had got it from Mrs Hobby herself. He considered the
secret of value, but had not intended to make use of it, though he was
induced to do so for the purpose of saving the Hall from destruction.
Mrs Hobby's evidence was next taken. She stated that neither of the
children about whom this question had arisen was her own; that Mrs
Duffy, the housekeeper at the Hall, had brought her an infant, stating
that it was the child of Mrs Clavering; that it would never be reared
if brought up by its mother, and that to save its life she had taken it
away, and substituted another in its stead. She owned that she had her
doubts as to the propriety of the proceeding, but that her scruples had
been quieted by a sum of money, and that she was told she would receive
a similar sum every year as long as she did not betray the secret. The
gipsy wife had, however, wormed it out of her, and this year the
looked-for sum had not arrived at the usual time.
Although there were some discrepancies, and even improbabilities, in the
details of the statement, it still appeared possible that the story
might in the main be true; and, at all events, it wore an air of
sufficient probability to make the positions of the two youths extremely
painful. Ralph came forward in a way which was little expected, but
which gave Lilly great satisfaction. He earnestly begged that John
Hobby might remain at the Hall, and be treated in all respects as he had
been, and that he might accompany him to his tutor, and obtain the
education which would fit him for the position in life he might possibly
be destined to gain. No conclusion could possibly be arrived at,
however, it appeared, unless Mrs Duffy and her accomplices could be
found; and what had become of her no one knew. Another question also
arose: if Ralph was not the heir of Clavering Hall, who was he? Again,
should he be proved to be the son of Mr and Mrs Clavering, who was
John Hobby? For the present, however, Mr Clavering's legal adviser
assured him that the law would in no way interfere with the right of his
supposed son Ralph as heir of Clavering Hall.
John Hobby himself made no claim, while the whole story rested on the
assertions of a gipsy and an ignorant woman, who had no proofs to bring
forward in its support. The persons who suffered most were Mr and Mrs
Clavering. They had looked upon Ralph as their son, and had loved him
as such, too blindly indeed; and now they felt that they might possibly
have been bestowing this love on a stranger, and neglecting their own
offspring. As they saw young Hobby, indeed, they could not help
acknowledging that he was worthy of the love of any parents, though they
could discover no likeness in him to themselves, or any of their near
relatives, while Ralph had always been considered the very image of Mr
Clavering. Thus they continued in the most painful state of uncertainty
as to which was their son, without any possibility of solving the
mystery.