No move more unwise could have been made by the old lawyer--that is, if
his intention had been to rid himself of an unwelcome witness. For,
finding myself thrust thus suddenly from the scene, I naturally stood
still instead of mounting the stairs, and, by standing still, discovered
that though shut from sight, I was not from sound. Distinctly through
the panel of the door, which was much thinner, no doubt, than the old
fox imagined, I heard one of the men present shout out:
"Well, that makes the number less by _one_!"
The murmur which followed this remark came plainly to my ears, and,
greatly rejoicing over what I considered my good luck, I settled myself
on the lowest step of the stairs in the hope of catching some word which
would reveal to me the mystery of this scene.
It was not long in coming. Old Smead had now his audience before him in
good shape, and his next words were of a character to make evident the
purpose of this meeting.
"Heirs of Anthony Westonhaugh, deceased," he began in a sing-song voice
strangely unmusical, "I congratulate you upon your good fortune at being
at this especial moment on the inner rather than outer side of your
amiable relative's front-door. His will, which you have assembled to
hear read, is well known to you. By it his whole property--not so large
as some of you might wish, but yet a goodly property for farmers like
yourselves--is to be divided this night, share and share alike, among
such of his relatives as have found it convenient to be present here
between the strokes of half-past seven and eight. If some of our friends
have failed us through sloth, sickness, or the misfortune of mistaking
the road, they have our sympathy, but _they cannot have his dollars_."
"Cannot have his dollars!" echoed a rasping voice which from its
smothered sound probably came from the bearded lips of the old reprobate
in the chair.
The lawyer waited for one or two other repetitions of this phrase (a
phrase which, for some unimaginable reason, seemed to give him an odd
sort of pleasure), then he went on with greater distinctness and a
certain sly emphasis, chilling in effect, but very professional:
"Ladies and gentlemen, shall I read this will?"
"No, no! The division! the division! Tell us what we are to have!" rose
in a shout about him.
There was a pause. I could imagine the sharp eyes of the lawyer
travelling from face to face as each thus gave voice to his cupidity,
and the thin curl of his lips as he remarked in a low, tantalising way:
"There was more in the old man's clutches than you think."
A gasp of greed shook the partition against which my ear was pressed.
Some one must have backed up against the wainscoting since my departure
from the room. I found myself wondering which of them it was. Meantime
old Smead was having his say, with the smoothness of a man who perfectly
understands what is required of him.
"Mr. Westonhaugh would not have put you to so much trouble or had you
wait so long if he had not expected to reward you amply. There are
shares in this bag which are worth thousands instead of hundreds. Now,
now stop that! Hands off! hands off! There are calculations to make
first. How many of you are there? Count yourselves up."
"Nine!" called out a voice with such rapacious eagerness that the word
was almost unintelligible.
"Nine." How slowly the old knave spoke! What pleasure he seemed to take
in the suspense he purposely made as exasperating as possible!
"Well, if each one gets his share, he may count himself richer by two
hundred thousand dollars than when he came in here to-night."
Two hundred thousand dollars! They had expected no more than thirty.
Surprise made them speechless--that is, for a moment; then a pandemonium
of hurrahs, shrieks, and loud-voiced enthusiasm made the room ring till
wonder seized them again, and a sudden silence fell, through which I
caught a far-off wail of grief from the disappointed ones without,
which, heard in the dark and narrow place in which I was confined, had a
peculiarly weird and desolate effect.
Perhaps it likewise was heard by some of the fortunate ones within!
Perhaps one head, to mark which, in this moment of universal elation, I
would have given a year from my life, turned toward the dark without, in
recognition of the despair thus piteously voiced; but if so, no token of
the same came to me, and I could but hope that she had shown by some
such movement the natural sympathy of her sex.
Meanwhile the lawyer was addressing the company in his smoothest and
most sarcastic tones.
"Mr. Westonhaugh was a wise man--a very wise man," he droned. "He
foresaw what your pleasure would be, and left a letter for you. But
before I read it, before I invite you to the board he ordered to be
spread for you in honour of this happy occasion, there is one appeal he
bade me make to those I should find assembled here. As you know, he was
not personally acquainted with all the children and grandchildren of his
many brothers and sisters. Salmon's sons, for instance, were perfect
strangers to him, and all those boys and girls of the Evans's branch
have never been long enough this side of the mountains for him to know
their names, much less their temper or their lives. Yet his heirs--or
such was his wish, his great wish--must be honest men, righteous in
their dealings, and of stainless lives. If, therefore, any one among you
feels that, for reasons he need not state, he has no right to accept his
share of Anthony Westonhaugh's bounty, then that person is requested to
withdraw before this letter to his heirs is read."
Withdraw? Was the man a fool? _Withdraw?_ These cormorants! these
suckers of blood! these harpies and vultures! I laughed as I imagined
sneaking Hector, malicious Luke, or brutal John responding to this naive
appeal, and then found myself wondering why no echo of my mirth came
from the men themselves. They must have seen much more plainly than I
did the ludicrousness of their weak old kinsman's demand; yet Luke was
still, Hector was still, and even John and the three or four others I
have mentioned gave forth no audible token of disdain or surprise. I was
asking myself what sentiment of awe or fear restrained these selfish
souls, when I became conscious of a movement within, which presently
resolved itself into a departing footstep.
Some conscience there had been awakened. Some one was crossing the floor
toward the door. Who? I waited in anxious expectancy for the word which
was to enlighten me. Happily it came soon, and from the old lawyer's
lips.
"You do not feel yourself worthy?" he queried, in tones I had not heard
from him before. "Why? What have you done that you should forego an
inheritance to which these others feel themselves honestly entitled?"
The voice which answered gave both my mind and heart a shock. It was
_she_ who had risen at this call--_she_, the only true-faced person
there!
Anxiously I listened for her reply. Alas! it was one of action rather
than speech. As I afterwards heard, she simply opened her long cloak and
showed a little infant slumbering in her arms.
"This is my reason," said she. "I have sinned in the eyes of the world,
therefore I cannot take my share of Uncle Anthony's money. I did not
know he exacted an unblemished record from those he expected to enrich,
or I would not have come."
The sob which followed these last words showed at what a cost she thus
renounced a fortune of which she, of all present, perhaps, stood in the
greatest need; but there was no lingering in her step, and to me, who
understood her fault only through the faint sound of infantile wailing
which accompanied her departure, there was a nobility in her action
which raised her in an instant to an almost ideal height of unselfish
virtue.
Perhaps they felt this, too. Perhaps even these hardened men and the
more than hardened woman whose presence was in itself a blight,
recognised heroism when they saw it; for when the lawyer, with a certain
obvious reluctance, laid his hand on the bolts of the door with the
remark, "This is not my work, you know; I am but following out
instructions very minutely given me," the smothered growls and grunts
which rose in reply lacked the venom which had been infused into all
their previous comments.
"I think our friends out there are far enough withdrawn by this time for
us to hazard the opening of the door," the lawyer now remarked. "Madam,
I hope you will speedily find your way to some comfortable shelter."
Then the door opened, and after a moment closed again in a silence which
at least was respectful. Yet I warrant there was not a soul remaining
who had not already figured in his mind to what extent his own fortune
had been increased by the failure of one of their number to inherit.
As for me, my whole interest in the affair was at an end, and I was only
anxious to find my way to where this desolate woman faced the mist with
her unfed baby in her arms.