THE SIGNING OF THE WILL.
‘I have more right to be here, sir, than a stranger.’ These were the
words, uttered by James Semple in a voice of suppressed indignation,
which Alec Lindsay heard as he entered his uncle’s bedroom next day. He
had come to superintend the execution of Mr. Lindsay’s will, bringing
the document with him ready for signature.
The old man was sitting up in bed, a table with writing materials
beside him. Near the fireplace stood Dr. Mackenzie, a look of firm
resolve on his face. At the foot of the bed stood Semple, who seemed to
be bitterly protesting against being excluded from the room.
‘Just consider, uncle!’ he continued; ‘I have served you for the last
ten years, and served you faithfully. What have I done, to be treated
like a stranger now? Alec is to make your will; I don’t complain of
that. Don’t think for a moment I am jealous of him. But why am I to be
thrust out, while one who is no member of the family is admitted?’
The old man glanced helplessly at Dr. Mackenzie as if asking for
advice. But the minister held his peace.
‘I think you might let my cousin stay, uncle,’ said Alec. ‘It is
perhaps only fair that he should know your intentions.’
‘Ay; so let it be,’ said Mr. Lindsay, in a feeble tone. ‘The whole
world will know soon enough. But don’t blame me, lads, after I am gone,
I did it for the best. God knows, I did it for the best.’
And Semple, having received permission to stay in the room, walked over
to the window.
‘We must get two witnesses,’ said Alec, drawing the will from its
envelope. ‘Marks and the cook will do.’
‘The will had better be read first,’ put in Dr. Mackenzie. ‘There’s no
need for the servants knowing its contents.’
‘True,’ said Mr. Lindsay; and Alec, standing at the old man’s bedside,
began to read in a clear firm tone.
He had nearly finished his task, when he noticed that Semple (who was
still standing by the window) was pulling down the blind.
‘Don’t do that, James; I have hardly light enough as it is,’ said Alec.
‘I thought the light was in my uncle’s eyes,’ answered Semple, without
pulling the blind up again.
‘It was very well as it was; pull up the blind,’ said the old man
fretfully.
Semple did as he was told, and Alec went on reading.
A moment afterwards a hansom drove up to the door, and there was a loud
ring at the door-bell. James Semple slowly moved away from the window,
and left the room.
‘You can ring for Marks and Mrs. Jackson now, Alec,’ said Mr. Lindsay.
He did so; but Marks, who answered the bell, told Alec that Mr. Beattie
had called to see him on very important business.
‘I wonder what it can be,’ said Alec to himself. ‘I will be back in a
minute or two, uncle,’ he said, as he laid the will which he had just
read on the table by his uncle’s bed, and ran downstairs.
‘Lindsay,’ began Mr. Beattie, as soon as Alec made his appearance, ‘you
saw Marchand, I think, one day about a month ago, about the Walters’
case?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you remember what passed between you?’
‘Nothing very important. I told you of it at the time;’ and Alec
detailed the conversation which had taken place.
‘Very good,’ said Beattie. ‘Now I want you to make an affidavit of
what passed, to be used at the motion which comes on for hearing
to-day.’
‘But you can’t use an affidavit filed to-day.’
‘We can try; and I think we shall manage it. Sit down, like a good
fellow, and jot down what you remember of the conversation. I’ve
brought draft-paper with me.’
‘All right; but wait until I’ve seen my uncle sign his will, and then
I’ll go down to the Law Courts with you.’
‘You needn’t come just yet, for I have to get a copy made, of course.
If you will only sit down and put the heads of it in writing, it won’t
take you ten minutes; and then, while you are getting the will signed,
I will drive down to the Law Courts, and get it copied and ready for
you to sign when you arrive there. The fact is,’ added Beattie, ‘I
ought to have asked you to do this yesterday, but I was so busy with
other matters that it escaped me.’
‘Very well; I’ll just go and tell my uncle that I am detained for a few
minutes.’
‘It isn’t necessary,’ answered Beattie with some anxiety in his tone.
‘The thing would be done almost before you could get upstairs. I do
wish you would do it at once; for that motion may come on at any time
after twelve, and if it is lost for want of this affidavit, it will be
my fault.’
Beattie’s request was not unreasonable, so, sending a message to Mr.
Lindsay to explain the delay, Alec began hastily to jot down the
substance of the affidavit he was about to make, while Beattie paced
quietly but restlessly about the room.
As soon as Alec had joined his fellow-clerk in the library, James
Semple went to the drawing-room, which at that hour of the day was
always empty. On this occasion, however, Laura Mowbray was there,
waiting for him.
‘Now’s the time, Laura,’ he cried, in an excited tone, though he spoke
under his breath. ‘Alec is safe in the library, and the will is lying
on the bed, probably; or at any rate it is somewhere in the bedroom.
You have only to whisper to uncle that the solicitor’s managing clerk,
Mr. Beattie, wants to look over the will to see that it is all right,
and he will let you take it at once.’
‘But, James, I don’t like doing it. Can’t you think of any other way of
getting a sight of it?’
‘No, I can’t.’
‘Why can’t you go yourself, and tell my uncle this?’
‘Of course he would suspect that I wished to read it.’
‘And is it really necessary that you should see it?’
‘Didn’t I tell you this morning, Laura, that unless I can get a sight
of it, I shall never see a penny of that two hundred thousand pounds?’
‘Why?’
‘Because if the will is not in my favour, I will press my uncle to
revoke it, after that minister has gone. But unless you want to ruin
me, you will go now. Soon Alec will be back from the library, and then
it will be too late.’
Still Laura was not satisfied.
‘Couldn’t you manage to be in the room when the will is read over to
your uncle, before he signs it?’
‘No, no; that has been done already. That is--it won’t be done. Now do
go, Laura, unless you mean to make us poor all our lives.’
A smile that was half-contemptuous passed over Laura Mowbray’s pretty
face, as she glided away from the drawing-room. She certainly did not
intend to be poor all her life in the company of Mr. James Semple.
In less than a minute she had reached Mr. Lindsay’s room. Dr. Mackenzie
was still there, standing with his back to the room, looking out of
the window. Laura glided up to the bed and spoke some words in a tone
so low that the old man could not catch them. He knew, however, that
the visitor downstairs was Messrs. Hatchett’s managing clerk, so that
when Laura lifted the unsigned will lying beside him, he merely said,
‘Do they want to see it?’ at which Laura nodded, and took it away. The
minister saw that she had come and gone, but he ascribed no importance
to what passed. He did not notice, indeed, that the will had been
removed.
Laura carried it to the drawing-room, where Semple was impatiently
waiting for her. Almost snatching the paper from her hand, he said in a
whisper, ‘Stand just outside the door and listen, in case the library
door should open,’ and took the will to one of the windows at the
farther end of the room, to read it. Laura obeyed so far as to stand in
the doorway, from which position she could hear anyone opening the door
of the library, on the floor below.
Semple’s scrutiny of the will did not last long. Very soon he returned
to Laura, with satisfaction in his face and bearing.
‘All right,’ he exclaimed. ‘Now, all you have to do is to put it back
again. Here,’ he added, picking up an open newspaper which looked as if
it had been brought there on purpose, ‘slip the will under this, and
lay them both on the table. When Alec comes back he will remember that
he left the will on the table; he will lift the newspaper and find it
there; and uncle will never notice, if you attract his attention, that
Alec did not bring it back into the room himself.’
Laura admired and rather wondered at these elaborate instructions for
carrying out what she thought was a very simple ruse. But she had no
opportunity of putting them in practice. As she ascended the last
flight of stairs, Alec came bounding up, three steps at a time, and
overtook her as she reached the landing.
‘Why, Laura, what have you got there?’ he asked in surprise, taking the
will from her unresisting hand.
The two stood looking at each other for a moment, without speaking.
‘What were you doing with this?’ asked Alec.
Laura had made up her mind. She would not confess to Alec that she had
been acting under Semple’s directions. It would have been equivalent to
making that definite choice between the two which she had resolved not
to make until it was known what share of his uncle’s property Alec was
to have.
‘Oh! don’t tell my uncle,’ she said rapidly, speaking almost in a
whisper. ‘I wanted to know what was in it.’
‘You wanted to know whether my uncle was going to leave you anything?’
‘Yes; and I pretended to him that you and the other clerk from your
office wanted to see it. But I have not looked at it. I have not read a
line of it! Indeed I have not!’ and Laura burst into tears.
Alec did not speak. It did not seem a very serious matter, but he was
pained to think that the girl he loved should have done such a thing.
‘Only promise me that you won’t speak of it!’ she cried, with clasped
hands, her eyes swimming in tears.
Alec reflected for a moment. He could not see that there was any duty
cast upon him to mention Laura’s indiscretion to his uncle. Even if she
had peeped into the will, no harm could have been done. He gave the
required promise, and turned away, going into his uncle’s room, while
Laura, unwilling to go downstairs and meet Semple, whom at this moment
she positively hated, ran up to her own room.
‘What a fool I was to listen to him!’ she exclaimed aloud, when she
had shut the door. ‘But, after all, it doesn’t very much matter,’ she
said to herself, a moment afterwards. ‘Alec thinks it was only my own
curiosity that made me meddle with the will; and he won’t tell upon
me, that’s certain. I wonder whether Mr. Lindsay has left me anything!
I suppose James never looked; he was only anxious to find out what he
was to have for himself. And Alec never would tell me. I wonder what
Alec himself will get. I shouldn’t wonder if he gets as much us James.
Oh! I wish he had not caught me just now!’
And, renewing her resolution to wait until the will was read before she
committed herself irretrievably to either of the two young men, Laura
proceeded to wash away the traces of tears from her face.
Meanwhile Beattie had left the house, and Alec had summoned Marks and
Mrs. Jackson, the cook, to their master’s room.
The will was duly signed and witnessed, Dr. Mackenzie looking on with
a grave face; and when all the formalities had been gone through, Mr.
Lindsay put the document in its envelope, sealed it carefully with his
own hand, and gave it to Alec.
‘Give it to Mr. Hatchett, my lad,’ he said. ‘He should have been here
to-day himsel’--but it doesn’t matter. Tell him to lock it up in his
safe till--till it’s wanted. And now I think I’ll try and get a little
sleep, for I feel tired.’
Alec took the will to Mr. Hatchett, and saw it put away in his safe,
before going down to the law courts.
As for Dr. Mackenzie, after a final interview with Mr. Lindsay he took
his leave, and returned to Glasgow by the night mail.