THE UNEXPECTED
Muriel had bribed the servant who should have shown Frank out to
bring him to her sitting-room; and this was accomplished without
observation. As he entered, Muriel's appearance astonished him.
She looked superb in his eyes--flushed, bright, bold, a wonderful
contrast to the haggard girl Lee had hurled from him half an hour
before. The momentary defeated feeling was past. She now stood on
her rights. No father or man should have treated her as Lee had
done, and she replied by sticking to her purpose, and having Frank
sup with her.
'Sit, sit,' she said. 'We'll not say a word about anything until
we've supped--I mean about anything except the supper.'
They were both very hungry, and on the principle that promptitude
in action is the best prayer for the success of any enterprise,
dispensed with a grace. Truly, the good eater, if he masticate
well, renders the best thanks. Frank and Muriel worshipped God
heartily before the great mahogany altar of Britain--which was in
this instance, a little one of walnut--rapidly replacing the mercy
of appetite by the mercy of satisfaction.
Meantime Lee had other visitors. Mr. Linty, the family lawyer,
succeeded Frank almost immediately, and Miss Jane accompanied him
into the library. Lee knew about him from some of the letters he
had read. He was, however, wholly unprepared to enter into
business with him; but pleasure he expected.
After the formal courtesies, the lawyer began. He was a
sandy-haired, little, dry, old gentleman, and spoke very stiffly.
'Mr. Chartres,' he said, 'the intent with which I visit you to-day
is to convey to you certain information which I think it my duty
to let you have as soon as possible.'
'I am a man of business,' said Lee.
'Good, sir; very good. Mr. Chartres, an entailed estate is in a
most delicate position, surrounded as it is with innumerable
statutory provisions. It is doubtful whether you would be able,
supposing you were so inclined, to make good a claim on Snell
without proving the death of your brother Robert.'
Imagining that the lawyer had made a mistake in using Robert
instead of William, and that there had been circumstances in
connection with the death of the late proprietor which he had not
learned; wishing, besides, to gain time, as this was the first
intimation he had received of the estate being entailed, Lee said
in a half-bantering tone, 'Well, you know, I never had a brother,
Robert.'
'O!' said the lawyer.
'Well,' began Miss Jane, but stopped short, not sure what to say
or think.
Lee surpassed himself at this juncture. Not a feature of his face
showed he was at a loss. He turned to Miss Jane and asked in a
sort of parenthesis, 'What were you going to say?'
'O!' said Miss Jane, 'I think, and I always told William, that
although nothing has been heard of Robert for thirty years, he may
still be alive. William said that he died to the family when he
became a prodigal, and forbade his name to be mentioned. I thought
that uncharitable.'
'Ay,' said Lee indifferently. 'Of course, I agreed with William.'
It was very successful.
'But,' said Mr. Linty, 'We _must_ speak of him, for, if he is
alive the estate is his. Do you know anything of him?'
'No,' said Lee; 'but as we have not heard of him for thirty years,
we may reasonably suppose him dead.'
'By no means. That cannot even be taken as presumptive evidence.
If there were seventy years from the birth of your brother there
would be no difficulty, but if he is alive he will only be
fifty-five. I am afraid the estate will require to be "hung
up"--put into the hands of trustees.'
'Well, sir,' said Lee, rising, 'your contribution to this work is
wholly unexpected, but likely to produce most interesting
complications. I am indeed much obliged to you. There is nothing
original in it, but a missing heir is a very good thing to fall
back on.'
The lawyer, supposing he had heard an elaborate, and, if so,
certainly incomprehensible joke, laughed appreciatively. Miss Jane
frowned and examined Lee all over with scorn and minuteness.
The latter continued. 'You must really excuse me just now. I only
reached Snell House a few hours ago, and I am in no condition to
discuss business. I suppose,' with a laugh, 'you won't turn us out
immediately.'
'By no means,' said Mr. Linty. 'In all likelihood there will be no
need for that. I shall expect a visit from you to-morrow. Good
evening.'
Miss Jane, who was a great friend of Mr. Linty's, left the library
to see him to the door.
Lee's next visitor was of a different quality. He was an old man,
very ill-dressed, the great size of his head, which was covered
with thick white hair, being the most notable thing about him.
Miss Jane introduced him, having met him at the door when she
parted with the lawyer.
'This is Clacher, brother,' she said. 'You remember it was he who
found William's body on the road.'
Lee did remember, as it had been mentioned in one of the letters
he had read. Miss Jane informed Lee further under her breath, that
Clacher was quite mad, although harmless, and that he got a living
by begging in the disguise of a hawker. He had called often since
the death of William, asking for the 'new Mr. Chartres.'
'I am very glad you have brought him to me,' said Lee. 'He may be
useful.'
He then advanced to the old pedlar, and held out his hand, saying,
'How do you do, Mr. Clacher?'
Clacher emitted a chuckling noise, and darted glances at odd
corners of the room--glances which, if it had been possible to
enclose them, would have been found to resemble blind alleys, as
they ran a certain distance into space and stopped without
lighting on anything. Then he said in a hoarse, harsh voice,
speaking to himself as much as to Lee, 'I'm gaun tae dae it
Englified.'
He pulled himself up with all the appearance of a man about to
make a lengthy statement; but instead of a speech he only
succeeded in a pitiful pantomimic display. He could not remember
what he had come to say. As if to stir up his dormant faculties he
began rubbing his head with both hands, gathering his thick hair
into shocks, and then scattering these asunder. While endeavouring
to make hay of his hair in this manner, his little fierce eyes,
like swivel-guns of exceedingly minute calibre, resumed firing
their blank shots into space. Then, satisfied apparently that
nothing could be done toward the tedding of his hair, he rubbed
his shaved cheeks, beat his forehead and his breast, and tore at
the fingers of both hands.
All at once he stood erect, and, as if he were resuming a train of
thought, or a conversation, said, 'It's a wonnerfu' secret.'
'Indeed?' said Lee, quietly.
'Ay; for it can pit another in the deid man's shoes ye stann' in.
But I was gaun tae dae it Englified. Ye micht check me when I gang
wrang.'
'Check you when you go wrong?'
'That's it! "Go wrong"--no, "gang wrang." Keep me richt--right,
will you, sir?'
'It's of no consequence to me, my good man,' replied Lee, 'whether
you speak Englified as you call it, or not; but I'll keep you
right if you like.'
'Thank you, thank you! But whaat----'
'What,' said Lee.
'Bide a wee, bide a wee!' cried Clacher, rubbing his hair.
'Ye see,' he continued, 'if I tak' time tae dae it Englified, I
forget it. Whaat wis it I wis gaun tae dae Englified, and whaat
for wis I gaun to dae it Englified? I canna' mind, I canna' mind.'
'Never mind, then,' said Lee, gently. 'You interest me as much as
any character in the story. It seems indeed to be made to my hand,
and I shall only require to mould it here and there in order to
give it distinction.'
'Ye're mad, ye're mad!' cried Clacher, excitedly, shaking his big
frowsy head, and seeing Lee for the first time, although his eyes
had seemed fixed on him repeatedly.
'Poor fellow!' said Lee to Miss Jane, 'he thinks everybody mad but
himself, like all lunatics.'
'Lunatics,' said Miss Jane, emphatically, 'are unerring judges of
the lunacy of others.'
'I've heard that, too,' said Lee, ingenuously.
'My good friend,' he continued, addressing Clacher, 'we must
really try and remember what and why it is to be done Englified.
Come with me and you shall have something to eat and a glass of
good wine. If that doesn't startle your memory I don't know what
will.'
Miss Jane looked volumes, but only said, 'Henry, there never was a
man so changed as you.'
'My dear Jane,' said Lee, 'in ten years--why, I might have become
a lunatic too.'
As he crossed the hall with Clacher to the dining-room, a sound of
laughter from upstairs struck on his ear. He stopped, and
listened. It was repeated, and the laughing voices were Muriel's
and another's. Entering the dining-room he hastily confided
Clacher to the care of Briscoe and Dempster, who were discussing a
bottle of port, and hurried away to Muriel's sitting-room. He went
in without knocking, and another peal of laughter came to an early
death. Frank and Muriel stood up as the door opened. She meant to
fight; he recognised the falseness of their position, and felt, as
he looked, exceedingly awkward.
'Father,' began Muriel, looking in Lee's direction, but past him,
through the open door, 'you must not----'
She got no further; for she saw coming towards her room, in single
file, Miss Jane, Dempster, Briscoe, and Clacher. It is pretty
certain that none of these four persons knew exactly why they had
come upstairs. Miss Jane probably expected some kind of scene to
take place at which she might have an interest in assisting;
Dempster followed her out of sheer stupidity; Briscoe came after
Dempster because he was drunk; and Clacher after him because he
was mad, and didn't know any better. When Miss Jane, arriving at
the top of the staircase, saw Muriel's door open, she hesitated;
but behind her there came such a motley procession that she had to
go on. She stopped at the door; the others stood about her in a
semi-circle, and the _tableau_ was complete.
Lee, the only individual of the seven who was thoroughly
collected, said, looking round him meditatively, 'The situation is
turning out better than it promised to. After all, what more can
we do either in writing fiction or creating it than follow an
indication, and let the rest come.'
He then motioned Miss Jane aside and, taking Briscoe's hand, led
him into the room. The maudlin gravity with which that worthy bore
himself, combined with a remarkable bulging about the pockets,
made him a very comic figure, and raised a smile even on Muriel's
face. But Lee took one of her hands and put it in one of
Briscoe's, saying, 'Muriel, this is your future husband.'
She turned very pale; and almost fainted, when a hazy smile
struggled into Briscoe's slack mouth and dull eyes, and he
attempted to kiss her. She broke from him with a half-suppressed
exclamation of disgust, and would have thrown her arms round
Frank; but Lee seized her, and handed her over to her aunt who had
entered the room.
'Leave my house,' he then said to Frank, with a gesture of
authority.
It was a peculiar position for the young man, and Lee watched him
with intense interest. Frank walked to Muriel, kissed her on the
cheek, whispered something in her ear, and then passed out through
the little crowd at the door without looking to the right hand or
the left.
'Very good!' exclaimed Lee. 'Perhaps that's the best thing he
could have done.'
'But, Henry,' said Miss Jane, 'I think Mr. Dempster would like to
marry Muriel.'
'Me!' shouted Dempster spirally. 'No; I assure you. My dear Miss
Jane, I would as soon think of marrying you. Eh--ah--I mean well.'
Miss Jane's face quivered a second, but she said nothing, and left
the room. Dempster, aghast at his dreadful mistake, followed her
downstairs. Clacher, unable to make up his mind whether to stick
by Briscoe or follow Dempster, sat down disconsolately on the top
step, with his elbows on his knees and his head between his hands.
Lee also went out, signing to Briscoe to follow him. Then Lee
locked Muriel into her room, and putting the key in his pocket,
took Briscoe and Clacher to the library with him.
It was half-past nine when Muriel found herself a prisoner; and
Frank had whispered that he would wait for her all night at the
low wall.