“I am sure, Miss Bell, that there is much more in this than meets
the eye. Mrs Wemysson’s conduct is so altogether unexpected and
inexplicable that it can only be accounted for on the hypothesis of
some peculiar development of events of which her daughter and myself
are supremely ignorant.”
“Will you kindly recapitulate all the circumstances of the case to
me, Mr Wigan?”
“Certainly. You see, Miss Alice Wemysson and I have known each other
since we were children, and I can hardly remember the time when I
did not dream of love in a cottage with Alice. Yes, it was really to
be love in a cottage at first, for a more ambitious prospect did not
disclose itself to us until lately. My father has too many claims
upon his purse to be able to give his sons more towards a start in
life than a good education. And, until he died, no one dreamed that
Mr Wemysson possessed more than a modest competence.
“The attachment between Alice and myself was so patent to all our
friends that our names have been coupled together for years. But no
formal engagement existed between us, and though Mr Wemysson seemed
to be rather fond of me than otherwise, he always insisted that his
daughter was too young to know what was best for her, and that
there was still plenty of time to decide her future.
“Things were in this position when Mr Wemysson died, and then it
transpired that he was a comparatively rich man, having left ten
thousand pounds to his wife, and ten thousand pounds to her in trust
for Alice Wemysson, who was the daughter of the testator’s first
wife. The young lady was then eighteen, and she was to be under the
absolute guardianship of her stepmother until she was twenty-one.
If she married contrary to the wishes of her guardian, she was to
forfeit her inheritance.
“The last stipulation afforded nobody any uneasiness, for everyone
knew Mrs Wemysson to be well disposed towards me, and could hardly
understand why such a condition should have been made. As a matter
of fact, Mrs Wemysson gave her cordial consent to the engagement
soon after her husband’s death, but stipulated for the postponement
of the marriage until the bride was of age.
“The first summer after this unfortunate event passed tranquilly
enough. As winter approached my mother-in-law-elect developed a
restless disposition, which culminated in a determination to travel
and see the world.
“‘My means have always been too cramped to permit me to enjoy life
properly,’ she remarked. ‘There is no reason, however, why I should
make myself miserable now, and I mean to get all the pleasure I can
this winter. Alice shall do the Continent with me; it will do her
good to see something worth seeing, before she settled down to a
humdrum married life.’
“To tell the truth, both Alice and I were rather shocked at this
speech. It seemed to us to cast a reflection on the good man whom we
had both loved and implied a certain feeling of elation at being
relieved of the duties and ties of matrimony, which ill-befitted a
woman who had always been treated with affection by her husband.
“But no serious objections to the proposed trip could be offered,
and the day came when I bade farewell to my dear girl, never
dreaming that aught could now intervene between us and our future
happiness, or that the cloud which was to overshadow our destinies
was already rising.
“I received my letters regularly. Alice was delighted with all she
saw, and gave me wonderful descriptions of the places she and her
mother visited. For many weeks all seemed to be going gaily with the
travellers. Then a change came over the spirit of Alice’s letters.
They were less spontaneously confidential, and a vague sense of
impending trouble seemed to pervade them. But I could get no
satisfaction until the travellers returned. It was in vain that I
questioned. My questions were always parried evasively, and I am not
at all sure that I was surprised when my darling broke down at
sight of me, and welcomed me with tears instead of smiles.
“I had been waiting a long time at the station for them, my
impatience leading me there a good while before the train was due.
I was able to render Mrs Wemysson some little services, but could
not help seeing that my attentions were unwelcome, and when I saw
how harassed and ill Alice looked, I was filled with a vague
foreboding of mischief to come.
“Nor was my foreboding unfounded. During the course of that same
evening Mrs Wemysson informed me that I must consider my engagement
with her daughter at an end, as she had other views for her.
“‘In fact,’ she said, ‘Alice is going to marry Mr Jackson, a
gentleman whom we met abroad.’ Probably my anger got the better of
my good manners, for I flatly contradicted the widow at this point.
I pointed out that Mr Wemysson had always liked me; that she herself
had consented to our engagement, and that I knew Alice to be true as
steel from top to toe.
“‘Nevertheless, she will not marry you,’ I was coolly informed. ‘She
knows that her father wished her to obey my judgment in the matter,
and she is too good a daughter to act counter to his wishes. Besides,
if she were to marry you, after I have forbidden her to do so, she
would forfeit her fortune, and it is poor love that would reduce its
object to poverty.’
“Now Alice certainly loved her father very much. But she is not
exactly a girl to sacrifice herself without knowing the reason why.
Her character is by no means as superficial and yielding as Mrs
Wemysson imagines, and she vows that if she may not marry me, she
will marry nobody, least of all this Mr Jackson, who is elderly,
thin, bald, waspish-looking, and of altogether forbidding exterior.
His face is also so indicative of craft one instinctively distrusts
him.
“Now, as I have said before, Mrs Wemysson must have some powerful
motive for wishing to substitute Mr Jackson for myself as her
daughter’s husband, and I want you to unravel the mystery for me.”
I had listened to Mr Wigan’s story with some interest, and now
proceeded to cross-question him.
“Who, or what, is this Mr Jackson?” I asked.
“He is a solicitor, with an office near Lincoln’s Inn Fields.”
“How long has Mrs Wemysson known him?”
“I should say that on and off she has known him ten years. He was
the late Mr Wemysson’s solicitor, but was never on visiting terms
with the family until recently.”
“Where did he meet the Wemysson’s lately?”
“At Monte Carlo. I believe the widow was alarmingly fond of the
gaming tables there, and Alice suspects that she lost a lot of
money.”
“Is Mr Jackson rich?”
“On the contrary, he barely subsists on a very poor business.”
“Then what was he doing at Monte Carlo?”
He had to go over there on business for another client – to watch a
scapegrace young spendthrift, I believe. While there he recognised
Mrs Wemysson, and speedily became quite familiar. The widow at first
professed to dislike him very much, but apparently got over her
dislike, and entered no protest when he proclaimed himself madly in
love with her ward.”
“Can you give me any clue to this man’s influence over the widow,
Mr Wigan?”
“Not the slightest. I only know that the influence was very evident,
and that although Mrs Wemysson’s temper became very trying towards
Alice, she submitted very quietly to a somewhat impertinent reproof
from Mr Jackson.”
“Concerning what did he reprove her?”
“He told her that she had lost quite enough at the tables, and that
she had better not gamble any more.”
“What banker do the Wemysson’s patronise?”
“The National and Provincial Bank.”
“Thank you. I believe that is all I wish to ask you at present, Mr
Wigan. I will look into the case, and let you know the results as
soon as possible.”
When my client departed he did not look very hopeful of the results
of my investigations, and although my plans were already laid, I was
not at all sanguine as to their success.
But of two fundamental facts I felt certain. Mrs Wemysson had
committed some indiscretion, in which the welfare of her
step-daughter was involved. And Mr Jackson was not only cognisant of
that indiscretion, but was determined to make capital out of it.
Now, whatever the indiscretion was, it had evidently had its origin
at Monte Carlo. It was probably connected with Mrs Wemysson’s
rashness at the gaming tables. But at this point the puzzle became
more tangled. Even if she had been losing money heavily, this would
not make marriage into her family desirable for an impoverished
fortune-hunter, for that Mr Jackson had actually fallen in love with
Alice Wemysson was, I concluded, hardly a likely supposition to
entertain. I preferred to look upon his motives as entirely mercenary.
Suppose Miss Wemysson proved to be a greater matrimonial prize than
she knew herself to be? This would explain the solicitor’s conduct
in forcing his attentions upon an unwilling girl. But it made the
widow’s behaviour all the more inexplicable.
With a view of satisfying myself as to Miss Wemysson’s financial
position, I communicated with one of the employees of the bank in
which her father had invested his money, and desired him to let me
know how much of this money had been withdrawn. We make a point of
having friends in all sorts of unlikely places, and their co-operation
often simplifies our work wonderfully. In this case the information
I got startled me considerably.
Of the twenty thousand pounds left by Mr Wemysson, there was barely
five thousand left! Mrs Wemysson must have been completely carried
away by the gambling demon, to risk her daughter’s little fortune as
well as her own. Mr Jackson evidently knew of her breach of trust
and was trading upon it. Now where did his profit come in?