Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: THE OLD MOAT HOUSE.]
GUY FALCONER;
OR,
The Chronicles of the Old Moat House.
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A BATTLE OF FORTUNE.
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BY
L. E. G.
AUTHOR OF "THE OBJECT OF LIFE," "MYRA SHERWOOD'S CROSS,"
"HOMES MADE AND MARRED," ETC., ETC.
THIRD THOUSAND.
London:
SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION, 56, OLD BAILEY, E.C.
Hazell, Watson, and Viney, Printers, London and Aylesbury.
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
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CHAPTER I. ONLY A STROKE OF THE PEN
CHAPTER II. VILLAGE POLITICS
CHAPTER III. STILL UNDER THE ELM TREES
CHAPTER IV. THE TOMB BENEATH THE CEDARS
CHAPTER V. A LADY OF THE OLDEN TIME
CHAPTER VI. DAILY BREAD
CHAPTER VII. CASTLE BUILDING
CHAPTER VIII. THE PLACE OF THE BEAUTIFUL
CHAPTER IX. A CONSPIRACY
CHAPTER X. SCHOOLS OF THOUGHT
CHAPTER XI. DISENCHANTMENT
CHAPTER XII. "SEMPER EADEM"
CHAPTER XIII. A MISSING LINK
CHAPTER XIV. THE OLD BUREAU
CHAPTER XV. UNDER THE ELMS AGAIN
CHAPTER XVI. CLOUDS WITH SILVER LININGS
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ILLUSTRATIONS.
FRONTISPIECE-THE OLD MOAT HOUSE
THE STROKE OF THE PEN
VILLAGE POLITICS
THE MEETING ON THE ROAD
THE VISIT TO LONDON
THE PLOT
THE START
WEDDING BELLS
GUY FALCONER:
_A BATTLE OF FORTUNE._
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CHAPTER I.
ONLY A STROKE OF THE PEN.
"THE papers have arrived, sir, and the witnesses are ready. Only a
stroke of the pen, and the thing is done. It will not fatigue you much."
The old gentleman to whom this was spoken in a tone of gentle entreaty
turned himself with difficulty on his bed, and looked earnestly at the
speaker.
"You have decided, then, Geoffry," he said; "you are sure you don't
mind? You won't regret it by-and-by? I had thought that perhaps you had
given it up."
"I have quite decided; I shall not regret it; and I never thought of
giving it up, but it was of no use to talk about it until the requisite
documents were prepared. Penacre has not been in a hurry, but what he
does is well and safely done. Shall I read over the particulars to you?"
"No, no, I must trust to you. My debts will all be paid, as well as
yours, and there will be no stain upon my name, that's one comfort,"
and he groaned as if other comforts just then were not many.
"Phœbe, Phœbe," said he as his son left the room; "what are you doing
there?"
"Tinking, sar," and a dark face, trimmed round with white and yellow
muslin, instantly appeared at the bed-side with the next cordial for
the patient. "Thinking, eh? What are you thinking about pray?"
"Tinking about one bery bad debt, sar. Wondering if it's going to be
paid along de rest."
"What do you mean, woman? How dare you think about my concerns, or
listen to what I say to my son?"
"Couldn't help it, sar. 'Sides, if dat 'ar debt ain't paid, him leab a
bery big stain dat never come out nohows."
"What debt, woman? You shall be paid well, for you've been a faithful
nurse to me, Phœbe."
"Dat's noting, sar; Phœbe not tinking about pay down here, but de big
bill up dere," and she pointed upward, "must be paid by somebody,
sar. By de good Lord on His cross all blot out in His precious blood,
or—don't disb'lieve it 'cause poor old Phœbe say it—or by massa his own
self in de eberlasting prison, whar de poor debtors neber reach de end
ob der 'count."
"Stuff and nonsense, woman," said the old man angrily.
"True as de Bible, sar. How's massa going to do 'bout it?" persisted
the nurse.
"Do! Why I've nothing to do with it. I shall take my chance with you, I
suppose."
"Phœbe havn't noting to do with chance, sar. De kind good Lord find
poor lost sheep, an' He say, 'Come unto Me.' Den I say, 'What for poor
Phœbe come?' He say, 'You know you a sinner,' and 'De wages ob sin is
death,' but 'God so lub de world dat He gabe His only begotten Son, dat
whosoever b'lieveth in Him should not perish, but hab eberlasting life."
"Ah, yes; I heard that years ago, Phœbe, when I was a child."
"Why you not mind it, den? Phœbe neber hear it till she got old, and
she come, and she b'lieve, and now noting to do but go up to be eber
wid de Lord one ob dese days; all her sins washed away, and sing
hallelujah! No chance 'bout it."
"Well, you foolish old woman, if you like it so, have it so, but it
doesn't suit me."
"Phœbe like it very much; just suit poor old sinner like Phœbe; suit
eberybody dat wants to go to hebben white and clean. Better tink 'bout
it, sar, 'fore you feels de grip ob Satan on yer soul; too late den,
he'll neber leave go."
"There, go away; here's another sort of sermon coming, and I'm very
tired. Oh, for some rest!" And the old man groaned wearily.
"'Come unto Me all ye dat are weary and heby-laden, and I will gib you
rest,'" said the old nurse, as she straightened the pillows, and made
way for the party just entering the room.
The parchments were spread, and the right place indicated. The old
man, after a moment's bewilderment, did what he had to do with dignity
and calmness. He signed his name legibly; his son followed; then the
witnesses, two respectable clerks from the Government offices, and
the business was settled to the satisfaction of, at least, one person
concerned.
"Geoffry," said the old gentleman, when they were again alone, "you
will not forget some provision for poor Guy's widow and children? You
see, I spent all Guy's money that came of his mother's property; he
had nothing but his commission out of it, poor lad, and it ought to be
refunded to his family out of the estate; in fact, I think there's some
deed or document to that effect somewhere."
"Very well, sir; it shall be sought and acted on."
"Very good, all right; for you see, Geoffry, what with debts at home,
and the expenses of my establishment here, I have saved nothing; you
understand, Geoffry, saved nothing."
"I must be stupid, indeed, if I do not, sir, for you have told me so
fifty times this week."
"Have I? Well, but it's important to be remembered when you are
settling things for them. They must remain there, you know, until you
pay that money, due to Guy, out of the proceeds."
"You did not mention it until to-day, sir."
"No, I believe I didn't; but that old fool, Phœbe, reminded me somehow,
with her talk of some bad debt, and I'm glad I've mentioned it, for
they may want it, you know. Now let me rest."
As the son retired, the nurse stole softly in.
"Rest, poor massa; no rest 'cept you come to de dear Lord Jesus," said
she softly. "'No rest,' saith my God, 'to de wicked;' and who's dey?
Why, old Phœbe and eberybody, 'cause 'All hab sinned and come short de
glory ob God,' but bless de Lord, for 'Behold de Lamb of God dat taketh
away de sin ob de world.' 'Though your sins be scarlet, dey shall be
white as snow.' Only b'lieve; dere's de blessed rest, dere's de peace
ob God for Phœbe and eberybody who come; no more wicked den, but de
Lord's own dear children welcome home! Poor massa! Hope him go dat way
'fore he die."
In the night there came a cry from the bed, "Mother, mother!"
Phœbe moved forward and knelt down.
"Oh, massa, goin' to be a child again, and listen to de words ob
Jesus: ''Cept ye be as a little child ye shall not enter de kingdom ob
hebben.'"
[Illustration: THE STROKE OF THE PEN.]
"You are right, Phœbe; she says so, and the proud old man is
wrong—lost, lost!"
"De dear Lord Jesus can save to de uttermost: him dat cometh He will in
nowise cast out. Oh, come, dear massa! Look to Him."
"Too late—call Geoffry. I'm dying. I've lived without God, and now I
must die without Him. It is just, and it is perdition. But let me tell
my son."
They watched and ministered, and Phœbe wept and prayed unchecked
for some hours while the mortal struggle lasted, and then there was
rest,—for the body at least. The poor neglected soul was gone to its
own experiences—somewhere, and the "stroke of the pen" that morning
was to leave no pleasant experience of the last act on earth. For
wonderful things a stroke of the pen can do. It can sign away an estate
of hundreds of years of entailed possession; it can exile the widow
and disinherit the orphan, and lay broad acres and stately oaks under
the salesman's hammer. It can set idle clerks to work in attorneys'
chambers, and make land agents and appraisers speak and look like
"monarchs of all they survey."
But that stroke of the pen did a great deal more.
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