"Only the young ladies and gentlemen, ma'am. I understand that he
wishes to see them on business."
Business! That word was enough to keep five minds working busily during
the hours between luncheon and the time appointed for the interview.
Had Uncle Bernard come to some definite conclusion during those quiet
days upstairs? Was the period of probation over, or did the summons
simply imply some new and eccentric phase of the old routine?
Conjecture ran riot; but at the first sight of the old man's face all
pleasant expectations died a sudden death, for it was fixed in a stern,
unbending anger, such as his guests had never seen before. Hardly
replying to their congratulations and inquiries, he motioned them
impatiently to the seats ranged in readiness facing his chair, exactly
as they had been on that first important interview five weeks before.
Only five weeks, thirty-five short days, yet each of the squire's guests
felt as if a lifetime of experience yawned between that day and this!
"I have sent for you, as it is necessary to speak on an unpleasant
topic, which, however, cannot be avoided," Mr Farrell began. "It is
painful for me to open it, especially as I am urged to avoid excitement;
but I have no alternative. You may remember that shortly before I was
taken ill, I referred to the draft of my will which was lying in this
desk." He stretched out his hand, and laid it on the polished surface.
"It was kept here with other important papers, arranged in a special
manner, which I have adopted for years, partly for the sake of neatness,
partly to ensure them against interference, for it is impossible that
they should be touched without my knowledge. This morning, on coming
downstairs, my first task was to add some memoranda to one of these
papers. I opened the desk, and discovered at once that my will had been
opened and read--"
He stared grimly across the room, and four flushed, bewildered faces
stared back at him. The silence lasted for several moments; then Jack
spoke in his haughtiest and most intolerant tone--
"You do not, of course, wish to imply, sir, that you suspect us of
having any hand in the matter? I presume you want our help in
unravelling the mystery? My own detective powers are not of a high
order; but if you will explain your system--"
Mr Farrell interrupted him with a raised hand.
"Thank you, I prefer to make my own inquiries. As I said before, it is
a disagreeable duty; but when a duty is forced upon one, the best course
is to perform it in the most strict and business--like manner possible.
You are the people most concerned in my will, the people who would
naturally feel most interest and curiosity in seeing it; therefore,
apart from sentimental considerations, on you the first suspicion must
fall, and it is right that I should question you before outsiders."
Jack's eyes flashed. He rose from his chair and limped across the
floor, as if unable to keep still.
"I am afraid it will be of little use. If a fellow is sweep enough to
pry into another man's secrets, he is equal to lying about it into the
bargain, and in that case you have no chance in finding out the truth.
You have been upstairs for five days. It is impossible to account for
all that may have happened during that time."
"I have been upstairs five days, as you say, but it happens that I can
reduce the time to a much narrower limit. On the evening after I was
taken ill, it occurred to me that I had not locked my desk the night
before, as I expected to return to the library as usual after dinner. I
sent James downstairs to make sure. He found it open, locked it, and
brought me back the key. The lock is a patent one, and has not been
tampered with, therefore whoever examined the will must have done so on
Wednesday morning or afternoon."
Victor looked up quickly.
"You allowed your man to lock it, you trusted him with the key?"
"Certainly. He has been twenty years in my service, and knows exactly
what provision I have made for his future. He will not need to work
after my death, and has no personal interest in my will. Moreover, I
trust him as I would myself."
Mr Farrell spoke sharply, evidently annoyed that any doubt should be
cast upon his favourite. As he finished his eyes met Mollie's fixed
upon him with an angry challenge, to which he was not slow to respond--
"Well, what have you to say, young lady? Can you throw any light on
this mystery?"
"I have not opened your desk and pried among your papers, if you really
mean to ask me such a question. I have lots of faults, but I've never
been suspected of anything so mean as that, and I don't care to stay in
a house where anyone can believe it possible! I don't want to see the
horrid old will! We should all have been content and happy if it had
not been for the thought of it; and I never want to hear it mentioned
again. I don't know how you dare insult us so, Uncle Bernard!"
"That will do, Mollie; you have given me your answer. There is no need
to get excited. You had better go back to the drawing-room while I
speak to your companions."
The squire leant back in his chair, waiting for her to go; and, willing
or unwilling, there was no defying that grim silence. Mollie marched
across the floor with defiant tread, opened the door, and closed it
behind her with a bang, so expressive of temper that Jack could not
resist a smile. It vanished quickly enough, however, as he listened to
Mr Farrell's next words--
"I must ask you to tell me in so many words whether you know anything of
this matter. If a sudden access of curiosity should have proved too
strong for resistance, a candid confession would be the best means of
obtaining forgiveness. I could overlook anything better than deceit."
He looked at the three young faces before him with a scrutiny that had
something pathetic in its earnestness; but, as it met with no response,
his expression hardened. "Perhaps you would be good enough to tell me,
in the first place, whether any of you were in the library on
Wednesday?"
He looked at Victor as he spoke, and the dark eyes met his without a
moment's hesitation.
"I went out for a long walk immediately after breakfast, and returned
when luncheon was on the table. Afterwards Melland and I smoked on the
terrace until it was time to drive over to a tennis-tea. I forget which
house it was held at, but I remember we heard that the carriage was at
the door, and had to rush for it. That was so, wasn't it, Melland? I
think I should have little difficulty in proving an alibi for the whole
day."
Mr Farrell hesitated for a minute, then turned towards Jack.
"And you, Melland?"
"Oh, I was about the house! I don't remember going into the library,
but I might have done so half a dozen times, and forgotten all about it.
You gave me permission to borrow books as I chose, and I have been
constantly in and out. I could not undertake to say positively what I
did on any particular day."
"Ruth?"
Ruth lifted a miserable face, and shot a glance across the room. There
was none of Mollie's righteous indignation in that glance, only a
nervous shrinking which amounted almost to fear.
"I--I was in the library, Uncle Bernard! I photographed it several
times that morning. It seemed a good opportunity, as you were upstairs,
and I wanted the room for my collection."
"You were photographing. That means that you would be some little time
alone in the room?"
"Yes--no; I came and went. Not so very long," stammered Ruth
hesitatingly. It was terrible to be cross-examined like this, with the
eyes of the three men fixed upon her, grave and questioning. She looked
wistfully at the door, and half rose from her seat. "I know nothing--I
did nothing! I can tell you nothing more! May I go now? There is no
use staying any longer."
"One moment, please! You all deny having touched the will, and I shall,
of course, accept your word; but you must help to find the real culprit
by giving me every clue in your power. Was any reference made to the
will in your presence? Has anyone, for instance, expressed curiosity
respecting it and its contents?"
Victor's eyes turned to Ruth with a glance which brought the colour
rushing into her cheek. He did not speak, but his expression was too
eloquent to be misread. The old man looked keenly from one to the
other, and his voice took an added sharpness as he spoke--
"Well, Druce, out with it--out with it! What is it that you have to
say?"
"Nothing, sir--nothing worth repeating. Your question reminded me of a
chance remark; but I would rather say no more about it."
"You have said too much already. Pray go on, since you have begun!"
cried Ruth, with a sudden blaze of anger. Her small head was thrown
back with a defiant gesture, and the Farrell eyebrows met in a straight
black line across her brow. "_I_ spoke of your will, Uncle Bernard--I
said I wished that I could see it. I _did_ want to see it! It was
impossible to know that it was lying there, and not feel curious."
"Of course it was. We were all curious, but some of us had not the
honesty to confess it," Jack cried quickly. "Surely it is not necessary
to keep Miss Ruth any longer, sir? She has told you that she can give
you no more information. It is cruel to the girl--" He broke off as if
afraid of speaking too strongly; and Mr Farrell lay back in his chair
with a sudden weary slackening of muscle.
"Yes, yes, she may go; you may all go! We can prove nothing at present;
but time will show--time will show!" And he raised his hand with a
gesture of dismissal.
Ruth and Victor rose and hurriedly left the room only Jack stood his
ground, nervously tugging at his moustache. He had something to say,
and was determined to say it, but the sight of the old man's figure in
its physical and mental depression turned his anger into commiseration.
It was in almost an apologetic voice that he broke the silence.
"I stayed because I wanted to have five minutes' quiet talk with you,
sir. My ankle is now practically well, and I am anxious to return to
town. Please don't think I am unappreciative of your kindness in
wishing me to stay, but as I said before I have no wish to be considered
as a candidate for your fortune. It is owing to my accident that I have
remained so long, and not to any change of mind. I hear from my partner
that the business is suffering from my absence, and we have had such a
struggle to work it up to its present condition, that you can understand
I am in a fever to get back."
Contrary to his expectation Mr Farrell showed no sign either of
surprise or anger. Perhaps he had been expecting the announcement as a
result of convalescence, perhaps he was simply too weary to feel any
strong interest in passing events. In any case, his face scarcely
changed in expression, as he replied--
"After five weeks' visit to the Court you still keep to your original
opinion, that the chance of possessing it is not worth a little
inconvenience, or even monetary loss?"
Jack pursed his lips with an impatient dissent.
"Oh, the Court is beautiful--an ideal place in every respect. I would
go through a good deal to earn it--in a straightforward fashion. What I
object to is the mystery, and the idleness, and the feeling of
competition. You have every right to manage your own affairs in your
own way, sir, but you must allow me the same privilege. You must have
found out by this time that I have a large amount of obstinacy in my
composition. I have made up my mind that for every reason it is my duty
to return to town."
"You have calculated, of course, that even if your business succeeds to
an extraordinary extent, you are never likely to make anything like as
much money as will come to my heir?"
"I have always heard that you are enormously wealthy. You are probably
quite right; but,"--Jack paused in front of the lounge-chair and looked
down at the shrunken figure from the height of six-foot-one,--"looking
back on your own life, sir, has your greatest happiness come from the
amount of your possessions? Has it increased as they increased? Can
you honestly advise me as a young man to sacrifice everything for
money?"
There was silence for several minutes, while Mr Farrell winced and
shrank within himself, as if the words had touched a hidden sore. He
never referred to his own domestic life; but it was well-known that for
years it had been one of ideal happiness, and that with the loss of wife
and son, his real life had closed for ever. He avoided a direct reply
to Jack's question by asking another in return.
"There are other things which many men consider more important. I have
sometimes imagined that you would agree with them. Have you reflected
that in returning to town you may be leaving behind even more than land
or fortune, and thereby losing a dearer chance of happiness!"
The blood rushed into Jack's face. He could not affect to misunderstand
the drift of the old man's words, but to acknowledge their truth was
impossible, and the orthodox protests seemed to come of their own
accord.
"What do you mean? What am I leaving? I hardly understand..."
Mr Farrell laughed shortly.
"Young people seem to imagine that their elders cannot see what is
happening under their eyes. I have watched you and Mollie, and thought
that there might possibly be an interesting _denouement_ to your
friendship. She has faults, but she has a kind heart and would make a
good wife."
Jack's face stiffened.
"Hadn't we better keep her name out of the discussion, sir? I have the
greatest respect and admiration for both your nieces, but, as far as
anything further is concerned, I am not in a position to think of
marriage. It may be years before I can keep a house, and I would never
tie down a girl indefinitely."
"In this instance it might happen that the girl had a house of her own!
Did it never strike you that you would be doubling your chances if you
linked them together?"
"I am not a fool, sir! Of course I realised as much from the first, and
have wondered if it was part of your scheme. My idea of marriage,
however, is to be able to keep my wife, not to accept support. It may
be a weakness in my nature, which makes me wish to be head of my own
household; but weakness or not, there it is, and I can't get rid of it.
It would be detestable to me to marry an heiress, and if I were a girl I
should despise a man who was content to live on his wife's money."
"Just so--just so! Very praiseworthy sentiments, no doubt; but I should
have been glad to know that the child had a protector. The stepfather
is a broken reed, and the mother is a child herself; however, you place
your pride and your prejudice first, and that's the end of the business.
You will go back to town, she to the North--a very effectual
separation!"
He shrugged his shoulders expressively; but Jack's eyes gave out a
sudden flash, he straightened himself, and cried eagerly--
"There are trains, there are boats--if it comes to that, it is only two
hundred miles. If she were in trouble, one could _walk_! It would make
no difference if the woman one wanted were at the end of the world--one
would get to her _somehow_ when the hour arrived! Difficulty is an
inspiration, sir, when one is young!"
"Yes, yes; when one is young--when one is young!" The smile which had
lightened the old man's face died away at the sound of those last words.
He raised his hand and pushed the thin locks from his brow. "Well, it
is your own life--you must live it in your own way! I cannot benefit
you against your will. If your mind is made up I have no strength to
argue the point. You had better arrange to leave to-morrow afternoon,
and give instructions to that effect to the servants."
Jack's start of surprise was entirely disagreeable. He had not expected
to be dismissed in this summary fashion, and the thought of so speedy a
break with the new life came upon him with a positive shock. To-morrow!
To-morrow, then, at this very hour he would be back in the dingy
lodgings which did duty for home, preparing to sit down to a solitary
meal, to spend a solitary evening, to sleep and wake up to a day's work
in the stifling City, where the thought of green fields and rose-
gardens, and wide, stretching lawns would seem as unreal as a dream. A
weight of depression settled on him, as he exclaimed--
"To-morrow! But--unless you wish it, there is no hurry--I could wait
until the end of the week. If I left on Saturday, I could still begin
work on Monday."
"For what object? Since you have decided not to remain, it is better
for all reasons that you should return at once. You have put your work
before everything else--then why delay in getting back to it? For my
own part, since you refuse to consent to my conditions, it would
simplify matters if you returned at once. The position is difficult,
and my strength is rapidly failing. I should have been glad if you had
consented to grant me these few weeks out of your life, but, since it is
not to be, I prefer to finish the matter once for all." He held out his
hand as he spoke. "Good-bye, Melland--my best wishes! I shall not see
you in the morning!"
Jack took the proffered hand, and held it in silence, his face a study
of perplexity and remorse. An Englishman hates to express his emotions,
but to a generous nature the sting of ungratefulness is even more
abhorrent. At that moment it seemed a little thing to spare a few
months of strong, young life to gratify the whim of a dying man. Jack's
heart reproached him, and he spoke in eager accents.
"If I could be a help to you, sir--if I felt that my presence gave you
pleasure or comfort, I would stay willingly as long as you wished; but
you have kept so much apart, that there has been no opportunity--"
Mr Farrell disengaged his hand, and turned aside with a wearied air.
"Good-bye, Melland!" he repeated. "I wish you a pleasant journey!"
So far as any change of voice or manner was concerned, he might not have
heard the young man's protest. Jack turned away, miserable and abashed.
It was the last time he ever saw Bernard Farrell alive.