The next two weeks were spent in maturing plans by the young men for
their intended expedition. Maps were consulted, and books of travel--
Livingstone, Stanley, and other authorities--devoured in such leisure
times as they had from their finishing studies.
At last the day arrived--their last day of school life; their last day
under the fatherly control of Dr Heardman. The good doctor was proud
of his three crack pupils, and prophesied great futures for them. The
younger schoolmates went off to their different homes in deep dejection,
wondering how they were ever to get on, the next term, without their
heroes and champions.
Of course their places would quickly be filled up, for heroic souls and
talented minds are common enough products of British soil. Infatuated
adherents of Disraeli, Gladstone, and Salisbury are apt to fancy that
chaos must come when they have gone from their posts. Yet the old state
coach rumbles along pretty much as it did in the days of former drivers.
The ocean nibbles away at sea-coasts, and encroaches every year in some
parts, while it retires from others in the same proportions. Continents
have been submerged, and ancient cities buried under the brine; but
other continents, cities, and nations have risen and taken the work of
civilisation upon them. The earth has not become a fraction smaller,
the ocean has not increased by so much as a drop of water.
Heroes have risen and carved their names on the monument of history, but
mankind has not suffered by their passing away. It benefited,
perchance, through their living, as the grain-fields benefit by the
passing rains; yet as the moisture returns to the clouds, and comes down
again and again, so do great deeds repeat themselves amongst men as in
nature. The drop of rain is nothing after it has done its work; the man
is of no more consideration after the emergency has passed for which his
strength was produced.
For a time the renown of those three champions would hover over
Shebourne Academy. The acts of the new claimants would be criticised
and compared with what had been done before by those doughty heroes.
Then the hour would arrive when their successors appeared to overtop
them in the eyes of the young censors; then they would fade into
oblivion with the majority, and be remembered by a few as demi-gods. In
every school there are minds formed to lead and natures made to admire.
Wisely, the majority of mankind are those who exist for the present, and
trouble themselves neither with the past nor the future. Their hero is
the one who serves their interests for the time. Thus mankind goes on,
trampling the road smoother which old footsteps have partly made,
leaving the dreamers and the regretters to linger on the side pathways.
Filled with hope and laden with their prizes, the three boys bade
farewell to their old life, and set forth to interview the present
arbitrator of their lives, Mr Jabez Raymond--the man who held the
sinews of war.
Ned had written to this gentleman, and in his reply Mr Raymond gave
them a warm invitation to visit him and consult over matters at his
place.
Mr Jabez Raymond was, as we have already stated, not a family man, but
he had a good practice in the cathedral town of Abbotsmore, about one
hundred and thirty miles from Shebourne.
His sister acted as housekeeper to him, and although it was not a very
large house, yet Ned Romer wondered that he had not been invited before
during his holidays. There were bedrooms enough to accommodate him and
his comrades. He excused his guardian, however, as being a bachelor,
and not caring for the company of youngsters.
Mr Raymond's house and offices faced the main street, with the
cathedral in front of it, and a large garden leading down to the river
at the back. It was an old-fashioned and somewhat dark house inside,
filled with passages, recesses, cupboards, and unexpected nooks. The
walls of the dining-room were oak-wainscotted. The offices also were
lined with the same enduring and time-blackened material.
It had been a great family house at one time, as the crests and
ornaments on the ceilings showed. The small-paned windows likewise told
of its ancient history. The furniture also was old and solid, with
little of the modern superfluities to lighten it up. It was a
comfortable house, but not one where youth would be likely to bud out
with exuberance.
Both Mr Raymond and his austere sister suited the appointments of the
house. She was an elderly spinster, stiff, precise, and most severely
orderly. He was a sharp-faced man, who appeared wedded to his legal
documents, and possessing a mind never far out of his office.
It was late in the afternoon when our heroes arrived, and, after
spending a few hours in the society of their host and hostess, they were
not sorry when bedtime came.
"There is no good lingering here any longer than we can help, lads,"
said Ned on retiring. "Tomorrow I intend to tackle old Raymond, and see
what he purposes doing for us."
That night the lawyer had a final look over the papers relating to the
affairs of his late client, Mr Romer. He did this after the boys and
his household had retired and behind locked doors.
A fox-like man of about fifty Mr Jabez was, with thin hair and side
whiskers, originally dark red, but now grizzled and grey. Much poring
over documents had reddened his eyelids and sharp long nose, and taken
the red out of his long parchment-like jaws. His mouth was thin-lipped
and wide, which gave him an unpleasant grin when he smiled, as he was
doing now, his eyes also were yellow speckled, like Fred Weldon's, but,
unlike Fred's open eyes, they were shifty and half hidden by the
reddened, scantily lashed lids.
"Hum, these will do, I think. It is not at all likely that this boy
will dispute my accounts or ask outside aid to understand these
professional mysteries. I'll have it over tomorrow with him, while he
is eager to get away, and make him a liberal offer, to be rid of him at
once and for ever."
It will be seen from this muttered soliloquy inside the door of Mr
Jabez Raymond's study that he was of the same mind as his
unsophisticated ward--to get into and over business as rapidly as
possible.
Next morning, therefore, after the customary breakfast of bacon and
eggs, he forestalled Ned by asking the three boys into his sanctum.
"I intended to postpone going into particulars respecting your late
father's affairs until you had gained your majority, Mr Edward; but as
you have already mapped out your career, I think it will meet your views
if I do so at once."
He grinned, what he considered to be an indulgent smile upon the young
gentlemen, while instinctively they wished he had not done so; that
widening of his thin mouth somehow spoilt the effect of his words.
"I do not suppose you have any desire to go very deeply into your family
history. Yet you had best glance over these documents after I have told
you briefly their contents, and see how at present your fortune stands."
"Your word will be quite sufficient, Mr Raymond," replied Ned, hastily.
"My father trusted you, and that is quite enough for me."
The lawyer once more grinned, and spread out his hands in a deprecating
fashion, as he answered--
"You must not do this, my young friend, with every one you meet, or you
may live to regret it. Your poor, noble, and generous-hearted father
trusted too many people for his own welfare and those coming after him,
otherwise I should have had more satisfactory accounts to give you."
"Yet if others deceived him, I am sure you could not, Mr Raymond."
"Thank you, Edward. I may say that I have tried my utmost to prove a
just and faithful steward, but alas! I found matters in a sad muddle,
which have taken me all your years to disentangle; even now the
unpleasant task is far from being done. Listen, and I'll try to give
you a summary of how you stand." Clarence and Fred were moving off
towards the window, thinking that they had no right to listen to these
private disclosures, when Mr Jabez stopped them.
"Please sit down and listen also, young gentlemen. Four heads are
better than two, even although one happens to be that of a lawyer, in a
business of this kind. Besides, we may require you as witnesses."
The two bowed and returned to their chairs.
"When your father inherited the Romer estates, Edward, he was, as you
are, an only child, and, like you, had been left early an orphan.
"My predecessors, Messrs. Skinner and Bland, had been the family
solicitors of your grandfather, and although the property was a
wide-spreading one, with many prosperous farms upon it, yet it had been
considerably mortgaged for the two past generations.
"Ostensibly your father's income was eight thousand, but really, at the
date of his succession, six thousand five hundred of this went yearly to
pay the interest of the old mortgages.
"This was bad enough, yet it might have been improved with care,
economy, and a wealthy marriage. Your dear, chivalrous father, however,
did not come from a cheese-paring race, and he was too noble to sell
himself for money."
"Dear father," murmured Ned. He was too young at that father's death to
remember what he was like, but this testimony to his generous and
disinterested nature touched a kindred chord in the boy's heart.
"Ah, yes!" continued the lawyer, softly. "You were too young to
remember what your father was like, yet in outward appearance you
resemble him, and doubtless you have the same fine and gentlemanly
disregard for money. It runs in the blood."