BERNARD'S ENEMIES
The deceased baronet was buried in the family vault under St. Peter's
Church, with all the pomp of wealth. Sir Simon had never been popular,
and had been known widely as a hard, gripping man. Yet his tragic fate,
and a certain pity therefore, had drawn together a large concourse of
people. Distant relatives who hoped to be mentioned in the will were
present clothed in deepest black, although they cared very little for
the dead. Julius, who already regarded himself as in possession of Gore
Hall, was there with a long face and a satisfied heart. He was glad that
he had inherited the wealth after which he had long hungered, and
gladder still that his rival, Bernard, was dead with a stain on his
name. In fancied security he moved along, not knowing what retribution
was in store for him. Even the pitying angels must have laughed at his
complacency.
Durham, as the solicitor and executor of the dead man, was present and
directed operations. Conniston had gone to Cove Castle to see Bernard
and hear his story; and Durham smiled as his eyes rested on the smug
face of the presumed heir. There was no love lost between the two men,
and Julius privately determined that, when in possession of the
property, he would place the legal business in the hands of another
solicitor. The young lawyer guessed somewhat of this, and smiled
ironically as he thought how this spite would be frustrated.
From far and near people were gathered, for the murder had made a great
stir. Everyone united in condemning Bernard, and not one person in the
throng thought him innocent. Lucy was weeping alone at the Hall, with
Mrs. Gilroy offering her such cold comfort as she could think of. For
the girl was truly sorry for her cousin, although she believed him to be
guilty. But her theory was that Bernard had been goaded into committing
the rash act by the bitter tongue of his grandfather. It was a matter of
disagreement between her and Julius that she should so mourn the
downfall and death of Bernard. He reprovingly advised her to keep her
tears for Sir Simon, from whose death both were likely to derive
benefit. But Lucy, in spite of Beryl's evil influence, which had rather
warped her better nature, persisted in weeping for the miserable cousin
who had so suddenly been cut off in the midst of his wickedness. At
least that--in the face of circumstances--was the view she took of the
matter.
And Alice remained at The Bower, talking over the death with Miss
Plantagenet. Her joy, when the old lady returned with the good news that
Bernard was yet alive, had been painful to witness. She wished to go at
once to Cove Castle, but this Miss Berengaria, by Durham's advice, would
not permit. Suspicion might be excited, so it was decided that Conniston
himself should visit his own castle, as that would seem a natural thing
for him to do. The merest suspicion that Bernard was alive and in hiding
would set the bloodhounds of the law on the trail, and Beryl would be
the first to loosen them. Therefore, Alice waited at home with Miss
Berengaria until the funeral was over. Then they intended to go to the
Hall to hear the will read. Miss Berengaria had some idea of the
punishment that awaited Julius, and would not have been absent for half
of her income. She detested the young man with all the virulence of her
honest nature. And she insisted on Alice coming also, although the girl
was unwilling. This again was by Durham's advice. He wanted both ladies
to understand exactly how matters stood. It would save him the trouble
of an explanation. And then, since he and the two ladies and Conniston
were bent upon proving Bernard's innocence, Durham wanted all who could
be spared--which did not include Conniston to be present, so as to daunt
Bernard's enemies. Should Julius lose his temper over the will, it was
probable that he might say something likely to afford a clue to the true
assassin. And then Mrs. Gilroy was an enemy also, and she might be
unguarded in her speech. Durham had a vague idea that both knew more
than they admitted. As to Lucy, it was impossible to say whether she was
friendly or hostile.
Sir Simon's body was duly interred, and he left all his wealth behind
him to take up his abode in the dark vault. After the service several
people lingered in the graveyard, but the majority, thinking the
spectacle was at an end, made haste to go. Julius with Durham returned
in the carriage, and the rest of the relatives followed, flocking like
vultures to the feast. While in the carriage Durham thought he would see
if Julius suspected that Bernard had escaped.
"You have not heard if Gore's body has been found?" he asked.
"No," said Beryl, raising his pale eyes and looking as sad as any owl.
"I fear he is dead in his sin."
"You can't be sure if he did sin, Mr. Beryl."
"The jury thought so."
"A jury is not always infallible!"
"I think the case had a fair hearing, Mr. Durham. So far as I am
concerned I should have been pleased had the verdict been otherwise. It
is not pleasant for me to have a relative accused of such a crime. But
since he is dead let his evil rest with him. You will not hear me say a
word against his memory," added the virtuous Julius.
"Perhaps it will be as well," replied Durham, dryly. "You never were a
friend of Bernard's."
"All the more praise to me that I should not run him down."
"Tell me, Beryl, do you really believe he committed the crime?"
"I answered that indirectly before. Yes, I believe he was guilty."
"Then it is just as well he is dead."
"Just as well," asserted Beryl, quickly.
"You don't think he can have escaped?"
Julius started. "What makes you think so?" he demanded uneasily.
"Well, you see, Bernard was a good swimmer, and--"
"The best swimmer in the world could do nothing against the current of
the Thames on a foggy night. On a fine day I dare say he might have
gained the opposite bank, but in the fog he must have circled round and
round until he was exhausted."
"Yet, his clothes were discovered on the bank," persisted Durham. "I
wonder if I offered a reward, would anything be discovered?"
"His corpse might," said Beryl, unpleasantly, "but no reward shall be
offered. Better let sleeping dogs lie."
"But surely, Mr. Beryl, if you inherit the property, you will seek for
the poor fellow's dead body?"
"No," replied Julius decisively. "I think it is best to leave things
alone. Bernard committed a vile act, and if his body has been swept out
to sea all the better for his memory and the position of the family. I
shall offer no reward."
Durham, seeing the young man was absolutely certain of his inheritance,
and that he was prepared to act in a most niggardly spirit, looked out
of the window to hide a smile. "Poor Sir Bernard," he said.
"Sir Bernard?" questioned the supposed heir, raising his eyebrows.
"Certainly. On the death of Sir Simon, Bernard took the title!"
"He hasn't enjoyed it long," said Beryl, with so villainous a sneer that
the lawyer longed to pitch him out of the carriage, "and seeing he is
dead I suppose the title becomes extinct."
"It does," assented Durham gravely. "Bernard was the only heir in the
direct line."
Julius shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'll be quite content with the
money," said he.
"Here we are," said Durham, as the carriage stopped. "By the way, Miss
Plantagenet and Miss Malleson have come to hear the will read. I hope
you don't object."
"Yes, I do," retorted Beryl, angrily, as he alighted. "They would have
shown better taste had they remained away."
"But remember Miss Malleson has lost Bernard."
"All the better for her. She would have had a miserable life with that
fellow."
Durham suppressed a violent inclination to punch the man's head, but,
knowing what punishment awaited him, he walked up the steps with a
contemptuous smile. Here was a change indeed from the meek Julius of the
old days. This presumed heir was obnoxious and insolent, thinking he was
absolutely certain of entering into his kingdom. The lawyer was by no
means a vindictive person, but it afforded him a certain amount of
satisfaction when he thought of the irony of the situation.
However, when Julius reached the drawing room, in which those invited to
hear the will read were assembled, he adopted a more conciliatory
manner. Several relatives were present, and Mrs. Gilroy headed the
servants at the end of the room. Miss Berengaria sat beside Alice in a
recess somewhat screened by the window curtain. But Lucy was nowhere to
be seen. However, when Durham took his seat at a small table and opened
his bag, she entered in deep mourning. Julius went to meet her.
"Dear Lucy," he said, "we have buried our best friend."
Lucy made no reply, and, drawing her hand away, walked to where Alice
was seated. She kissed the girl, whom Bernard had loved, in silence; and
in silence was the kiss returned. Even Miss Berengaria, voluble as she
was on all occasions, held her peace. She saw that Lucy was sincerely
sorry for the loss of her cousin, and from that moment she entertained a
better opinion of her. Alice drew Lucy into a seat beside her, and the
two girls sat side by side, while Julius, already assuming the airs of a
master, bade the company welcome.
"I am glad to see you all," he said in an important voice, "and I am
sure that our deceased relative in his will has done all that his kind
heart inspired him to do. Mr. Durham will now read the will."
When he sat down some of the relatives smiled at the phrase about a kind
heart, for which the late baronet had been in no wise remarkable. Durham
took no notice of Beryl's little speech, but opened the will and began
to read. Julius listened with a complacent smile, which changed as the
reading went on.
Legacies were left to nearly all the servants who had been with the
testator a long time. Lucy became entitled to three hundred a year, and
Mrs. Gilroy received one hundred. The sum allotted to her did not
satisfy her, as she frowned when it was mentioned. Beryl's name was not
mentioned, but he did not mind as he was waiting for the disposal of the
residue of the estate. But when Durham read out that the estate had been
left entirely to Bernard Gore, with the exceptions of the above-named
legacies, he started to his feet.
"That is not the will!" he exclaimed loudly, and with a ghastly white
face. "I am the heir."
"By a former will," interposed Durham, "or, rather, I should say, by a
will which Sir Simon afterwards destroyed."
"He disinherited Bernard!" cried Julius savagely.
"No! the will--this will--which gives Mr. Gore the money was never
cancelled."
"A new will was prepared leaving all to me. You read it to me yourself
in your office and in the presence of Sir Simon."
"Quite so," rejoined the lawyer, smoothly folding up the parchment; "but
after you left, Sir Simon, refusing to execute that will, put it into
the fire."
"It is a lie!"
"It is the truth," said Durham, his color rising. "I can bring forward
my clerks who were to witness the new will, and they will state that it
was never executed. Sir Simon changed his mind. The estate goes to Sir
Bernard Gore, the new baronet, and as the executor of the will, I will
take charge of all monies and of the property until he comes forward to
claim them."
"But you know he is dead," said Julius, clenching his hand.
"I know nothing of the sort. He is supposed to be dead, but we must have
proof of the death. A production of his body will be sufficient, Mr.
Beryl," added Durham, cynically. "I think on your own account you had
better offer that reward I spoke of."
"You have been playing the fool with me," said Julius, hardly able to
speak for passion.
"No, I advised you what to do!"
"One moment," said a precise man who had not been mentioned in the will.
"If young Gore really is dead--which I for one, hope is not the
case--who inherits the money?"
"There is a codicil to that effect," said Durham, "which I had intended
to read when interrupted by Mr. Beryl." He re-opened the parchment. "In
it Sir Simon leaves the property to charity with the exception of any
legacies. This in the event of Bernard Gore making no will. But the
property has been left unreservedly to him, and, should he be alive, he
has the power to will it to whomsoever he wishes."
"And if he is dead the property goes to a charity."
"Yes! I will read the codicil!" and this Durham did to the dismay of the
company. Only Miss Berengaria chuckled. She was delighted to see that
Beryl had been punished, and smiled when she thought how correct had
been her guess when talking to the lawyer. As for Alice, remembering
that Bernard was alive and well, she found it hard to contain her
satisfaction that he had been fairly dealt with. Even the thought of the
crime, under the ban of which he lay, faded for the moment from her
mind. Julius, with a certain malignancy, brought it back to her
recollection.
"Even if Bernard is not dead he cannot inherit as a felon," said he.
"Pardon me," interposed the lawyer. "You have yet to prove his guilt."
"It was proved at the inquest."
"A jury at an inquest has not the right to condemn a man," said Durham,
sharply. "If Sir Bernard"--Julius winced at the title--"is alive and
comes forward, I shall do my best to prove his innocence."
"And in any case," said Miss Berengaria in clear tones, "Mr. Beryl does
not benefit."
Julius turned on her with fury, and seemed on the point of breaking out
into wrathful speech. But his habitual dissimulation came to his aid,
and he suppressed himself. More than that, he attempted to smile.
"I don't say that I do not feel hurt," he said, with a desperate attempt
at cheerfulness. "Sir Simon distinctly named me as his heir, and,
moreover, asked Mr. Durham to read the new will in which I was named as
such."
"Perfectly true," said Durham, coldly. "But Sir Simon changed his mind
and burnt the new will. It was never executed, as I say."
"Sir Simon had every right to do what he liked with his own," said the
diplomatic Beryl, while Miss Berengaria, wondering what was in his mind,
watched him with her keen eyes. "But, as I say, I am hurt. I quite
understood that Sir Simon had disinherited my cousin, but I was prepared
to allow him an income had I received the property."
"Two hundred a year," said the lawyer. "A munificent offer."
"It was approved by Sir Simon," said Julius, calmly. "However, it
appears that Sir Simon rescinded the new will--"
"It was never executed."
"Then we will say he never executed it. The money goes to Bernard Gore.
So far as I believe he is dead, but I hope Mr. Durham, as the executor
of the estate, will offer a reward to prove if he is dead or alive.
"With regard to the commission of the crime, the jury at the inquest
found Bernard guilty without one dissenting voice. However, I am willing
to give my cousin the benefit of the doubt, and should he reappear (and
I hope he may) I shall do my best to aid him to prove his innocence. I
hope any words that may have escaped me in the heat caused by a
disappointment will be overlooked."
Whether any of those present believed this statement it is impossible to
say. Everyone looked down and no response was made, save by Miss
Plantagenet. She rose, and walking across the room, offered her hand to
the disappointed heir. "You are a good young man," she said heartily.
"And I hope you will come and see me."
Julius, rather taken aback by this invitation from one whom he had cause
to think loved him but little, grasped her hand and thanked her with
great fervency. Her speech was a relief to him, and he sat down with a
calmer face, when the old lady returned to her seat.
"Why did you do that, aunt?" asked Alice, dismayed.
"My dear," whispered Miss Berengaria, with a grim smile, "that young man
means mischief. I am taking Mr. Durham's advice and making friends with
him, that I may thwart his plans."
This was whispered so softly that Lucy did not overhear. Nor, had it
been spoken aloud, would she have attended. Durham had come forward and
was speaking earnestly to her.
"I trust you will stop at the Hall for the present," he said, "until
Bernard comes home."
"Will Bernard ever come home?" asked Lucy, sighing.
"Let us hope so. I doubt if he is dead, and I will not believe he is
until his body is laid before me. As to the crime, I do not believe he
committed it. However, I want you to stay here as the chatelaine of the
Hall. All things will go on as before."
"Am I to stay, sir?" asked Mrs. Gilroy, coming forward.
"Yes! nor will the servants be changed. Of course, any of them who wish
to leave can do so. But you--"
"I will stop on in my old position, if Miss Randolph wishes."
Lucy nodded. "Yes! let all things remain as they were," she said.
Mrs. Gilroy made a stiff curtsey and returned to the other servants, who
then filed in an orderly manner out of the room. The relatives also took
their leave, amongst them Julius, now smiling. At the door Lucy said
something to him about Bernard. He smiled darkly.
"We have yet to prove that Bernard is alive," he said.
"Danger!" thought Miss Berengaria. "I'll watch you, young man."