TOM OSSINGTON'S LAWYER
It was while they were seated at table that Bruce Graham told them of
the result of his investigations. Although, for some reason, the
subject had not been mentioned when Madge and he had been alone
together, that young lady showed herself alert and eager enough then.
Nor, in that respect, was Ella behind her friend, while Martyn
concealed an interest which was probably equal to theirs under
ponderous attempts at jocularity.
It was Jack who brought him to the point.
"If the honourable and learned gentleman has sufficiently refreshed
himself with the cup that cheers, would he oblige the company by
mentioning if he has done anything in the matter of the Hidden
Treasure--with capitals please!--and, if so, what?"
"I have at least found that everything points to there being such a
hidden treasure--in spite of Jack's pretended scepticism."
"My pretended scepticism! Sir, I would have you know that I am no
sceptic; or, if I am, never was one more willing to be converted to
the faith."
Ella interposed.
"And, Mr. Graham, you really think there is a hidden treasure?"
"I think it extremely probable."
"Tell us all about it. What have you been doing? All day long I have
been dreaming in the City of what would happen if we did light upon a
secret hoard. It really would be too splendid for words."
The young lady looked the eagerness which the words suggested--like an
imaginative child who pictures the materialisation of some favourite
tale of faerie.
"To begin with, I went to the house agents to learn for whom they are
acting."
"Well, and what did they say?"
"They were not particularly willing to say anything--as I expected.
They were apparently under the impression that I intended to take the
bread out of their mouths, by dealing with their principals direct.
But when I had succeeded in, at any rate, partly reassuring them, they
informed me they were acting for a firm of solicitors--Messrs.
Nicholls & Hawkins, 3, South Square, Gray's Inn."
"Well, and what did you do then?"
"I went to the solicitors."
"It is awfully good of you to take so much trouble. And what did they
say?"
"As it happened, I had some knowledge of the firm. My father was on
terms of friendship with their senior partner, so that when I
introduced myself to Mr. Nicholls as my father's son, the way was
smoothed for me. They have the reputation of being a steady-going,
old-fashioned firm, and I found them as open and above-board as they
very well could have been. When I mentioned my errand, Mr. Nicholls
was all alive at once."
"'Messrs. Palmer & Beading, of Wandsworth,' I began, 'inform me that
in letting Clover Cottage they are instructed by you. May I ask who is
the owner of the property?'
"When I said that, he sat up straight in his chair, and, as I
observed, became all alive--oh.
"'May I inquire, in return, why you ask the question?'
"'The question,' I admitted, 'is a little irregular; but I take it
that you will have no objection to give me an answer.'
"'Not the slightest. On the contrary, we shall be delighted if you
will help us to throw light into what is, at present, a very dark
corner; because, as a matter of fact, so far as we are concerned,
there is no owner.'
"'The late Thomas Ossington died intestate!'
"'So far as our knowledge goes.'
"'Leaving instructions that you should act on his behalf?'
"'Not a bit of it. So far as we're aware, he left no instructions of
any sort or kind. We have assumed a responsibility of which we should
be glad to be rid. Do you know the man's history?'
"'I know something of it--though I confess, candidly, that I should
like to know more. My own connection with the matter is a curious one.
At a later stage I will tell you exactly what it is. In the interim, I
assure you, on my word of honour, that any information you can give me
shall be used for the furtherance of justice, and for that only.'
"'Very good; so long as right is done, all that we require is to be
relieved of a very awkward situation. You know that Ossington
was--peculiar?'
"'Not insane?'
"'Insane?--No; he was as sane as you are--every whit. But he was a
disappointed man. He was malformed--the muscles of one leg were
paralysed. As he grew older, the paralysis increased, until it
extended up the whole of one side, and, at last, it killed him. He
married a girl who acted as book-keeper at an hotel, at which he was
in the habit of stopping, at Ilfracombe. She turned out a regular bad
lot--finally running away with a man named Ballingall.'
"'Charles Ballingall?'
"'That's the man. Do you know him?'
"'I have acted for him professionally.'
"'Have you? Then let me inform you, without prejudice, that you have
acted for as rascally a scamp as ever trod the earth. Ossington
regarded him as a particular friend; and, as particular friends
sometimes have a knack of doing, he borrowed no end of money from
Ossington, ending by robbing him not only of his money, but of his
wife as well. The double blow almost broke Ossington's heart, and
during the remainder of his existence he lived the life of a recluse.
But, until then, we had acted for him continually. For instance, we
had acted for him in the purchase of Clover Cottage.'
"'Do you hold the deeds of the house?'
"'Not a deed. We hold nothing. All that we have are the various
letters which he wrote to us at various times, on business. We had
heard nothing of him for months, when one morning we received a
telegram asking us to go at once to Clover Cottage. I went myself--I
liked the man. He was, in his way, as fine a gentleman as I ever met.
He had been cruelly used by friend and fortune. I found him
dead--alone in the house there, with a maid and a doctor;
dead--killed, according to the medical testimony, by a paralytic
affection of the heart; but actually, as sure as you and I are alive,
by the wicked wanton usage of those he had held dear. Now here the
queer part of the thing comes in.
"'His last words had been an instruction to send for us; but that was
the only instruction he had given. I myself searched the house from
top to bottom, and, as you know, it is not a large one. I had it
searched by others--every nook and cranny. Not a scrap of writing
could be discovered--letter, note, or memorandum. Not a document of
any sort of kind. Nothing whatever to show of what he had died
possessed, or to whom it was to go.'
"'You had reasons to suppose that he had means?'
"'Every reason! We had every reason to believe him to be a man of
comfortable means. We ourselves had, on more than one occasion, acted
for him in matters involving thousands of pounds. We applied to the
National and Provincial Bank--where we were aware he had an account.
They informed us that he had closed the account some two months
previously, and that on that occasion they had handed him over six
thousand pounds in notes on the Bank of England. They gave us a list
of the numbers of the notes; and not one of them has been presented
for payment to this day.'
"'Is that so?'
"'It is. We furnished the Bank with a copy of the list, requesting
them to notify us should one of them come in: as yet not a single one
of them has made its appearance. Where are those notes? Surely, if
they were in the possession of any living person, ere this some of
them would have been presented. Where are the title deeds of Clover
Cottage--and of other properties, of which he was the undoubted owner?
He is the registered holder of ten thousand Great Northern Railway
Stock. Since his death, the dividends on it have remained unclaimed.
Where is the scrip? With the rest, has it vanished into air? In a box
in his bedroom were forty-seven pounds in gold. That was all the cash
the house contained. We buried him in Wandsworth Cemetery; Hawkins, I,
and the doctor were the only mourners. We sold the furniture, paid the
expenses, and the balance stands to the credit of the estate. We
advertised for next of kin, without results. We advertised also for
information as to the whereabouts of any property of which he might
have died possessed--such as title-deeds, and anything of that kind.
You understand that there is a delicate question as to who is entitled
to collect the rents of other properties which we believe to have been
his freehold. But nothing came of that. Clover Cottage we placed in
the hands of Messrs. Parker and Beading, but only recently have they
succeeded in letting it--I believe to two single ladies.'
"'So I understand.'"
Jack struck in.
"You are the two single ladies. You," pointing to Ella, "are one of
them, and you," pointing to Madge, "are the other."
Ella was impatient.
"Jack, I do wish you wouldn't interrupt.--Mr. Graham, do go on. It's
like a romance. My curiosity is such that I feel as if I were all pins
and needles."
Bruce Graham continued.
"'And you, Mr. Nicholls,' I said, 'have you formed no theory of your
own upon the subject?'
"Old Nicholls leaned back in his chair. He put his hands into his two
pockets, and he looked at me out of the corners of his eyes.
"'I have--I have formed a decided theory. But, upon my word, I don't
know what right you have to ask me.'
"'I trust, before we part, to prove to your entire satisfaction that I
have every right. What's the nature of your theory?'
"'What's the nature of your right?'
"I laughed. I saw that he meant to understand more clearly where we
stood before he went any further.
"'I believe I am in a position to produce an owner for the
property--when found.'
"'When found?'
"'Precisely--when found. As yet it still remains to be found. I must
ask you not, at this moment, to press me for further details, and of
course you, on your part, are entitled to keep your theory to
yourself.'
"'I am entitled to keep my theory to myself, as you say. But I know
your father was an honest man, and as it happens, I know something
about you, and I believe you also are an honest man. So as I am
anxious, for many reasons, that this Ossington mystery should be
unravelled, you shall have my theory for what it's worth.'
"'He tilted his chair on to its hind-legs, watching me keenly all the
time.
"'Thomas Ossington was peculiar--not, in any sense of the word,
insane, but out of the common run. In particular he was secretive,
especially latterly, as perhaps was only natural. My theory is that,
distrusting banks and all such human institutions, he secreted his
cash, his title deeds, and everything he valued, in some hiding-place
of his own contriving, and that there it remains concealed unto this
hour.'"
The two girls rose simultaneously.
"Madge," cried Ella, "did you hear that? That's exactly what you
said."
In Madge's tones there was the ring of an assured conviction.
"I was sure of it--and I am sure of it; as sure as any one possibly
can be."
"May I ask," inquired Jack, with mock severity, "who is it who is
interrupting now? Will you let the gentleman go on?"
Graham went on.
"'But where,' I said, 'do you think he is likely to have found such a
hiding-place?'
"Old Nicholls looked at me, if possible, more shrewdly than ever.
"'At Clover Cottage. I knew the man. The salient events of his life
happened there. In his whimsical way he regarded it as part and parcel
of himself. I have heard him say so half a dozen times. His heart was
in the place. Whatever he did conceal, was concealed within its four
walls. Before the furniture was sold, I had it overhauled by an
expert--some of the things were pulled to pieces. His verdict was that
nothing was hidden there. Had I had my way I would have dismantled the
whole house--only Hawkins was against me. He said very properly, that
if the heir-at-law proved cantankerous, I might be made to smart in
damages to the tune of a pretty penny. So I abstained. All the same,
if the house was in the market to-morrow, I'd be a purchaser at a good
round sum--if all rights of treasure trove went with it. You may tell
the present tenants'--here he looked at me in a fashion which took me
a little aback--'if you have the honour of their acquaintance, that we
keep a sharp eye on the property; that it is not to be tampered with
to the extent of one jot or tittle; and that not so much as one inch
of paper is to be taken off the wall except with our express
permission.'"
Ella turned to Madge.
"What do you say to that?" she exclaimed. "That knocks on the head all
your notions of pulling the house to pieces."
Madge was defiant.
"Does it? It does nothing of the kind. Not after what I found in this
very room last night. In the face of that, I care nothing for Mr.
Nicholls, or for his threats either. What do you think yourself, Mr.
Graham?"
"If you will allow me, I will give you my own opinion when I have told
you of all that passed between Mr. Nicholls and myself. Indeed, I am
now coming to that very point."
"There you are, you see. You will not let the man finish, you really
won't. I never saw anything like you women for interrupting--never in
all my life."
This of course was Jack--who was, as usual, ignored.
Graham brought his story to an end.
"'There is one more question', I said, 'which I should like to ask
you, Mr. Nicholls. Do you know any one of the name of Edward John
Hurley?'
"'I ought to, seeing that some one of the name of Edward John Hurley
is in our office at this moment, and has been in our office for
something over a quarter of a century.'
"'Can I see him?'
"Mr. Nicholls touched a bell, and presently Mr. Hurley entered. I felt
that his presence on the spot was a stroke of luck for which I had
certainly been unprepared. He was a tall, thin, dignified looking man,
with grey hair. He wore spectacles. Taking them off, he wiped them
with his handkerchief before he replaced them on his nose to look at
me.
"'Do you remember, Mr. Hurley,' I began, 'the 22nd of October, 1892?'
"'The 22nd of October, 1892?' He repeated my words, then replied to my
question with another, 'May I inquire why you ask?'
"'I will put my question in another form. Do you remember witnessing
Mr. Thomas Ossington's attachment of his signature to a certain
document on the 22nd of October, 1892?'
"I had noticed that Mr. Nicholls and he had exchanged glances when I
first put my query. Now he looked at his principal evidently in search
of guidance.
"'Shall I answer this gentleman's question, sir?'
"'Certainly. Give him all the information you can.'
"This Mr. Hurley proceeded to do, with the utmost clearness.
"'I do remember the 22nd of October, 1892, and the whole of the
circumstances. I chanced to meet Mr. Ossington in Holborn as I was
leaving the office. He asked me if I would dine with him in his house
at Wandsworth. I went with him to dinner there and then. After dinner
he asked me if I would witness his signature. I expressed my
willingness. I witnessed it.'
"'Were you acquainted with the nature of the document he was signing?'
"'I was not. I have often wondered what it was, especially in the
light of after events. The document, which was on a sheet of blue
foolscap, had evidently been prepared before my arrival: Mr.
Ossington, covering the writing with a piece of blotting-paper, signed
it, in the middle of the page, directly underneath, while I affixed my
signature, as witness, on the left-hand side.'
"'Was there another witness?'
"'There was, the servant girl.'
"'What was her name?'
"'I never heard it. I only know that he called her Louisa. I think I
should recognise her if I saw her again. She was a red-faced,
light-haired, strapping wench, about eighteen years of age.'
"'Should you recognise Ossington's signature--and your own--and the
document to which they were attached?'
"'Most decidedly; under any circumstances, at any time.'
"I thanked him for his frankness, and rose to go. Nicholls stopped me.
"'One moment,' he said. 'Hurley informed us, at the time, of what he
has just now told you, and, like him, we have frequently wondered what
was the nature of the document he witnessed. As you are evidently
aware that such a paper existed once upon a time, you are probably
acquainted with its present whereabouts?'
"'I am. It will be produced in due course. When, I promise you, you
will see as curious a document as is to be found upon the records.'
"Both Nicholls and Hurley endeavoured to induce me to be more
definite. But I was not to be persuaded. Thanking them for the
information they had given me, I came away."