Mr. William Verheyst receives an Anonymous Letter.
By the same post the barrister, William Verheyst, received the
following letter without a signature.
Sir,--We think it probable that Sir Leopold van Zonshoven will
consult you on an affair of great importance to himself. May
we take the liberty of begging that you will kindly assist
him in any difficulties that may stand in the way of his
taking possession of a certain heritage left to him, and
also use your influence to persuade him not to decline any
proposition which may be made him. The writer of this letter
is perfectly acquainted with the intentions of the worthy
testatrix, and wishes the young man joy of his fortune.
"Oh dear!" exclaimed the good-natured William, crumpling the anonymous
letter in his fingers, "I fear this looks bad for Leopold. It will be
hard lines if he has to forego the fortune which is thus dangled before
his eyes like a bait on who knows what unreasonable conditions. I
don't like this attempt on the part of some unknown persons to bribe
his adviser. However, they shall find I am not to be caught in the
snare. If there be any clause in the will inconsistent with law and
honesty or with honour, I'll show them I have not been called to the
bar to no purpose. Poor fellow, he little knows how difficult it is
for me to leave home at present. Still, as I must go to the Hague
before my departure to Java, I will set off early to-morrow."
William Verheyst did as he said. He proved himself a true friend and
no loiterer; caught his train, and five minutes after his arrival in
the Hague was knocking at his friend's door.
Leopold van Zonshoven occupied a single large front room in a quiet
part of the town. He was too poor to live in a more fashionable
quarter, and too honest to attempt living above his means. And
yet there was an air of elegance about the room which marked it
as that of a young man of refined tastes, and proved him to be a
lover of home comforts rather than the pleasures of club life. To
the ordinary furniture to be found in lodgings he had superadded a
good writing-table, an easy-chair, an antique, carved book-case,
and several small objects of art, which stood out in bold relief
against the shabby wallpaper. This, however, he had tried to hide
as much as possible by hanging the family portraits all round the
room, some of them in solid ebony, others in gilt frames rather
characteristic of this cheap, showy age. Even the space between the
larger pictures he had tried to cover with small miniatures on ivory,
and photographs. The young man had evidently done his best to surround
himself by the portraits of his numerous family.
He was busily engaged at his writing-table when Verheyst knocked at
his door.
"I was expecting you," he said. "I knew you would come to help your
friend in need. What a strange letter I wrote you! But now I have
recovered my senses again."
Then turning to his writing-table, he said--
"Look here, here's a bundle of papers soaked with ink. Though
my landlady, Mrs. Joosting, saved the lamp from falling on that
memorable evening, she did not notice the ink-bottle. Three articles
neatly copied, numbered and ready for the press, are utterly
spoiled. Nothing for it but to copy them again. Pleasant work this
for a millionaire! But I have almost finished now, and the work has
done me good; we shall have the whole evening to talk matters over."
Leopold lived, in fact, by his pen, contributing to several papers,
and making translations for the publishers who patronized him. Though
he had not kept his terms at the university, he had talent and style,
and his writings had been very successful.
"Here are the documents: the lawyer's letter, a copy of the will,
the inventory of all effects, both personal and real estate; and all,
so far as I can judge, in perfect order."
After a minute examination, piece by piece, Verheyst answered that
he was of the same opinion.
"But," he said, "I cannot find the fatal clause you mentioned,
anywhere."
"In truth, there is no such clause expressed; nor is there even
a condition set down. But there is a desire, a hope expressed in
this letter from my aunt; and you must read it before giving your
opinion. It seems to me I must renounce the inheritance if I cannot
give effect to the wish you will find set down here."
"Is it, then, such a difficult matter?" inquired Verheyst, before
opening the letter.
"Oh, that depends! My aunt wishes me to marry."
"No unfair request, since she puts you in a position to maintain
a wife."
"I agree; but she has gone further and chosen a wife for me."
"The deuce! that's the worst part of the business."
"Certainly; for she does not seem to have been acquainted with the
young lady herself, who seems to be a granddaughter of a certain
General von Zwenken, who married my aunt's eldest sister. The young
lady is at present living with her grandfather; and it would seem that
my shrewd old aunt, to be revenged on the General, has hit upon this
means of leaving her fortune to her niece and shutting out the rest
of the family from any share in it. Consequently I am made use of,
and the fortune is placed in my hands with instructions to hasten to
lay it at the feet of this 'fair lady.' Nothing seems easier or more
natural. But suppose the 'fair lady' should be ugly, hunchbacked,
a shrew, or a troublesome coquette. In this case, you know, with my
ideas about women and marriage, I should feel myself bound to refuse
the fortune."
"Refuse! refuse!--at the worst you can propose to divide it between
you."
"Now that would be acting in direct opposition to the express and
formal wish of the testatrix. Read the letter and you will see."