Cuthbert Hartington had been back in town but two days when he received
a letter from Mr. Brander apprising him of the sudden death of his
father. It was a terrible shock, for he had no idea whatever that Mr.
Hartington was in any way out of health. Cuthbert had written only the
day before to say that he should be down at the end of the week, for
indeed he felt unable to settle down to his ordinary course of life in
London. He at once sent off a telegram ordering the carriage to meet him
by the evening train, and also one to Mr. Brander begging him to be at
the house if possible when he arrived.
Upon hearing from the lawyer that his father had been aware that he
might be carried off at any moment by heart disease, but that he had
strictly forbidden the doctor and himself writing to him, or informing
anyone of the circumstances, he said--
"It is just like my father, but I do wish it had not been so. I might
have been down with him for the last three months of his life."
"The Squire went on just in his usual way, Cuthbert. I am sure that he
preferred it so. He shrunk, as he said, from knowing that people he met
were aware that his days were numbered, and even with me after our first
conversation on the subject, he made no allusion whatever to it. He was
as cheery and bright as ever, and when I last met him a week ago, even I
who knew the circumstances, could see no difference whatever in his
manner. I thought he was wrong, at first, but I came to the conclusion
afterwards that his decision was not an unwise one. He spared you three
months of unavailing pain; he had no fear of death, and was able to go
about as before to meet his friends without his health being a subject
of discussion, and in all ways to go on as usual until the call came.
His death was evidently painless; he sat down in his easy arm-chair
after lunch for his usual half-hour's nap, and evidently expired in his
sleep. The servant found him, as he believed, still asleep when he came
in to tell him that the carriage was at the door, and it was only on
touching him he discovered what had happened. They sent the carriage off
at once to fetch Dr. Edwards. He looked in at my office and took me over
with him, and I got back in time to write to you."
The shock that the Squire's sudden death caused in Abchester, was, a
fortnight later, obliterated by the still greater sensation caused by
the news that the bank had put up its shutters. The dismay excited
thereby was heightened when it became known that the manager had
disappeared, and reports got about that the losses of the bank had been
enormous. The first investigation into its affairs more than confirmed
the worst rumors. For years it had been engaged in propping up the firm
not only of Mildrake and Co., which had failed to meet its engagements
on the day preceding the announcement of the bank's failure, but of
three others which had broken down immediately afterwards. In all of
these firms Mr. Cumming was found to have had a large interest.
On the day after the announcement of the failure of the bank, Mr.
Brander drove up to Fairclose. He looked excited and anxious when he
went into the room where Cuthbert was sitting, listlessly, with a book
before him.
"I have a piece of very bad news to tell you, Mr. Hartington," he said.
"Indeed?" Cuthbert said, without any very great interest in his voice.
"Yes; I daresay you heard yesterday of the failure of the bank?"
"Dr. Edwards looked in here as he was driving past to tell me of it. Had
we any money in it?"
"I wish that was all, it is much worse than that, sir. Your father was a
shareholder in the bank."
"He never mentioned it to me," Cuthbert said, his air of indifference
still unchanged.
"He only bought shares a comparatively short time ago, I think it was
after you were here the last time. There were some vague rumors afloat
as to the credit of the bank, and your father, who did not believe them,
took a few shares as a proof of his confidence in it, thinking, he said,
that the fact that he did so might allay any feeling of uneasiness."
"I wonder that you allowed him to invest in bank shares, Mr. Brander."
"Of course I should not have done so if I had had the slightest idea
that the bank was in difficulties, but I was in no way behind the
scenes. I transacted their legal business for them in the way of drawing
up mortgages, investigating titles, and seeing to the purchase and sales
of property here in the county; beyond that I knew nothing of their
affairs. I was not consulted at all in the matter. Your father simply
said to me, 'I see that the shares in the bank have dropped a little,
and I hear there are some foolish reports as to its credit; I think as
a county gentleman I ought to support the County Bank, and I wish you to
buy say fifty shares for me.'"
"That was just like my father," Cuthbert said, admiringly, "he always
thought a great deal of his county, and I can quite understand his
acting as he did. Well, they were ten pound shares, I think, so it is
only five hundred gone at the worst."
"I am afraid you don't understand the case," Mr. Brander said, gravely;
"each and every shareholder is responsible for the debts of the bank to
the full extent of his property, and although I earnestly hope that only
the bank's capital has been lost, I can't disguise from you that in the
event of there being a heavy deficiency it will mean ruin to several of
the shareholders."
"That is bad, indeed," Cuthbert said, thoroughly interested now. "Of
course you have no idea at present of what the state of the bank is."
"None whatever, but I hope for the best. I am sorry to say I heard a
report this morning that Mr. Hislop, who was, as you know, the chairman
of the bank, had shot himself, which, if true, will, of course,
intensify the feeling of alarm among the shareholders."
Cuthbert sat silent for some time.
"Well," he said, at last, "this is sudden news, but if things are as bad
as possible, and Fairclose and all the estate go, I shall be better off
than many people. I shall have that five thousand pounds that came to me
by my mother's settlement, I suppose?"
"Yes, no doubt. The shares have not been transferred to my name as your
father's executor. I had intended when I came up next week to go through
the accounts with you, to recommend you to instruct me to dispose of
them at once, which I should have done in my capacity of executor
without transferring them in the first place to you. Therefore, any
claim there may be will lie against the estate and not against you
personally."
"That is satisfactory anyhow," Cuthbert said, calmly. "I don't know how
I should get on without it. Of course I shall be sorry to lose this
place, but in some respects the loss will be almost a relief to me. A
country life is not my vocation, and I have been wondering for the last
fortnight what on earth I should do with myself. As it is, I shall, if
it comes to the worst, be obliged to work. I never have worked because I
never have been forced to do so, but really I don't know that the
prospects are altogether unpleasant, and at any rate I am sure that I
would rather be obliged to paint for my living than to pass my life in
trying to kill time."
The lawyer looked keenly at his client, but he saw that he was really
speaking in earnest, and that his indifference at the risk of the loss
of his estates was unaffected.
"Well," he said, after a pause, "I am glad indeed that you take it so
easily; of course, I hope most sincerely that things may not be anything
like so bad as that, and that, at worst, a call of only a few pounds a
share will be sufficient to meet any deficiency that may exist, still I
am heartily glad to see that you are prepared to meet the event in such
a spirit, for to most men the chance of such a calamity would be
crushing."
"Possibly I might have felt it more if it had come upon me two or three
years later, just as I had got to be reconciled to the change of life,
but you see I have so recently and unexpectedly come into the estate
that I have not even begun to appreciate the pleasures of possession or
to feel that they weigh in the slightest against the necessity of my
being obliged to give up the life I have been leading for years. By the
bye," he went on, changing the subject carelessly, "how is your daughter
getting on in Germany? I happened to meet her at Newquay three weeks
ago, and she told me she was going out there in the course of a week or
so. I suppose she has gone."
"Yes, she has gone," Mr. Brander said, irritably. "She is just as bent
as you were, if you will permit me to say so, on the carrying out of her
own scheme of life. It is a great annoyance to her mother and me, but
argument has been thrown away upon her, and as unfortunately the girls
have each a couple of thousand, left under their own control by their
mother's sister, she was in a position to do as she liked. However, I
hope that a year or two will wean her from the ridiculous ideas he has
taken up."
"I should doubt whether her cure will be as prompt as you think, it
seemed to me that her ideas were somewhat fixed, and it will need a good
deal of failure to disillusionize her."
"She is as obstinate as a little mule," Mr. Brander said shortly.
"However, I must be going," he went on, rising from his chair. "I drove
over directly I had finished my breakfast and must hurry back again to
the office. Well, I hope with all my heart, Mr. Hartington, that this
most unfortunate affair will not turn out so badly after all."
Cuthbert did not echo the sentiment, but accompanied his visitor
silently to the door, and after seeing him off returned to the room,
where he reseated himself in his chair, filled and lighted his pipe, put
his legs on to another chair, and proceeded to think the matter out.
It was certainly a wholly unexpected change; but at present he did not
feel it to be an unpleasant one, but rather a relief. He had for the
last ten days been bemoaning himself. While but an heir apparent he
could live his own life and take his pleasure as he liked. As owner of
Fairclose he had duties to perform--he had his tenants' welfare to look
after, there would be the bailiff to interview every morning and to go
into all sorts of petty details as to hedges and ditches, fences and
repairs, and things he cared not a jot for, interesting as they were to
his dear old father. He supposed he should have to go on the Bench and
to sit for hours listening to petty cases of theft and drunkenness,
varied only by a poaching affray at long intervals.
There would be county gatherings to attend, and he would naturally be
expected to hunt and to shoot. It had all seemed to him inexpressedly
dreary. Now all that was, if Brander's fears were realized, at an end,
even if it should not turn out to be as bad as that, the sum he would be
called upon to pay might be sufficient to cripple the estate and to
afford him a good and legitimate excuse for shutting up or letting the
house, and going away to retrench until the liabilities were all cleared
off. Of course he would have to work in earnest now, but even the
thought of that was not altogether unpleasant.
"I believe it is going to be the best thing that ever happened to me,"
he said to himself. "I know that I should never have done anything if it
hadn't been for this, and though I am not fool enough to suppose I am
ever going to turn out anything great, I am sure that after a couple of
years' hard work I ought to paint decently, and anyhow to turn out as
good things as some of those men. It is just what I have always been
wanting, though I did not know it. I am afraid I shall have to cut all
those dear old fellows, for I should never be able to give myself up to
work among them. I should say it would be best for me to go over to
Paris; I can start on a fresh groove there. At my age I should not like
to go through any of the schools here. I might have three months with
Terrier; that would be just the thing to give me a good start; he is a
good fellow but one who never earns more than bread and cheese.
"There isn't a man in our set who really knows as much about it as he
does. He has gone through our own schools, was a year at Paris, and
another at Rome. He has got the whole thing at his fingers' ends, and
would make a splendid master if he would but go in for pupils, but with
all that he can't paint a picture. He has not a spark of imagination,
nor an idea of art; he has no eye for color, or effect. He can paint
admirably what he sees, but then he sees nothing but bare facts. He is
always hard up, poor fellow, and it would be a real boon to him to take
me for three months and stick at it hard with me, and by the end of that
time I ought to be able to take my place in some artist's school in
Paris without feeling myself to be an absolute duffer among a lot of
fellows younger than myself. By Jove, this news is like a breeze on the
east coast in summer--a little sharp, perhaps, but splendidly bracing
and healthy, just the thing to set a fellow up and make a man of him. I
will go out for a walk and take the dogs with me."
He got up, went to the stables, and unchained the dogs, who leapt round
him in wild delight, for the time of late had been as dull for them as
for him; told one of the stable boys to go to the house and say that he
would not be back to lunch, and then went for a twenty mile walk over
the hills, and returned somewhat tired with the unaccustomed exertion,
but with a feeling of buoyancy and light-heartedness such as he had not
experienced for a long time past. For the next week he remained at home,
and then feeling too restless to do so any longer, went to town, telling
Mr. Brander to let him know as soon as the committee, that had already
commenced its investigations into the real state of the bank's affairs,
made their first report.
The lawyer was much puzzled over Cuthbert's manner. It seemed to him
utterly impossible that anyone should really be indifferent to losing a
fine estate, and yet he could see no reason for Cuthbert's assuming
indifference on so vital a subject unless he felt it. He even discussed
the matter with his wife.
"I cannot understand that young Hartington," he said; "most men would
have been completely crumpled up at the news I gave him, but he took it
as quietly as if it had been a mere bagatelle. The only possible
explanation of his indifference that I can think of is that he must have
made some low marriage in London, and does not care about introducing
his wife to the county; it is just the sort of thing that a man with his
irregular Bohemian habits might do--a pretty model, perhaps, or some
peasant girl he has come across when out sketching."
"He never did care particularly about anything," Mrs. Brander said, "and
it may be he is really glad to get away from the country."
"That would be possible enough if he had a good income in addition to
Fairclose, but all that he will have is that five thousand that came to
him from his mother, and I should say he is likely enough to run through
that in a couple of years at the outside, and then where will he be?"
"I can't think, Jeremiah, how you ever permitted his father to do such a
mad thing as to take those shares."
"I know what I am doing, my dear, don't you worry yourself about that.
You have been wanting me for a very long time to give up business and
go into the country. How would Fairclose suit you?"
"You are not in earnest," she exclaimed, with an excitement very unusual
to her. "You can't mean that?"
"I don't often say what I don't mean, my dear, and if Fairclose comes
into the market, more unlikely things than that may come to pass; but
mind, not a word of this is to be breathed."
"And do you really think it will come into the market?" she asked.
"As certain as the sun will rise to-morrow morning. We only held our
first meeting to-day, but that was enough to show us that the directors
ought all to be shut up in a lunatic asylum. The affairs of the bank are
in a frightful state, simply frightful; it means ruin to every one
concerned."
"It is fortunate, indeed, that you did not hold any shares, Jeremiah."
"I was not such a fool," he said, shortly, "as to trust my money in the
hands of a body of men who were all no doubt excellent fellows and
admirable county gentlemen, but who knew no more of business than
babies, and who would be mere tools in the hands of their manager; and I
had the excellent excuse that I considered the legal adviser of a bank
should have no pecuniary stake whatever in its affairs, but be able to
act altogether without bias."
There was an ironical smile on his lips, and his wife said, admiringly--
"How clever you are, Jeremiah."
"It did not require much cleverness for that," he said, with some
complacency. "You can reserve your compliments, my dear, until we are
established at Fairclose. All I ask is that you won't ask any questions
or allude to the matter until it is settled, but leave it entirely in my
hands. So far things are working in the right direction."
"Perhaps it will be a good thing for Cuthbert Hartington after all," she
said, after sitting for some minutes in silence.
"No doubt it will," he said. "At any rate as he does not take it to
heart in the slightest degree, we need not worry ourselves over him."
"It is funny," she said, "but sometimes the idea has occurred to me that
Cuthbert might some day take a fancy to one of our girls, and I might
see one of them mistress at Fairclose; but I never dreamt I might be
mistress there myself, and I can't guess, even now, how you can think of
managing it."
"Don't you trouble to guess, at all, my dear; be content with the plum
when it falls into your mouth, and don't worry yourself as to how I
manage to shake the tree to bring the fruit down."
Three weeks later it became known definitely that after calling up the
remainder of the bank's capital there would be a deficiency of nearly a
million, and that every shareholder would be called upon to contribute
to the full extent of his ability, to cover the losses. One or two
letters from Mr. Brander had already prepared Cuthbert for the final
result of the investigation, and he had already begun to carry out the
plan he had marked out for himself. He had, as soon as he had returned,
astonished his friends by informing them that he found that instead of
coming into his father's estates, as he had expected, it was not likely
he would ever touch a penny from them, as his father had been a
shareholder in the Abchester Bank, and so he believed everything would
be swept away.
"Fortunately," he went on, "I have got enough of my own to keep my head
above water, and, I dare say you fellows won't believe me, but I mean to
go to work in earnest."
The announcement was made to a dozen men who were smoking in Wilson's
studio, he having returned the day before from Cornwall.
"Well, youngster, I won't commiserate with you," he growled. "I have
been wondering since I heard from King last night what had kept you
away, what on earth you would do with yourself now you have come into
your money. I often thought it was the worst thing in the world for you
that you had not got to work, and if you are really going to set to now,
I believe the time will come when you will think that this misfortune is
the best thing that ever happened to you."
"I am not quite sure that I do not think so already," Cuthbert replied.
"I am not at all disposed to fancy myself a martyr, I can assure you. I
mean to go over to Paris and enter an Art School there. I know what you
fellows are. You would never let me work."
There was a general chorus of indignation.
"Well, how much do you work yourselves? You potter about for nine months
in the year, and work for four or five hours a day for the other three."
"Saul among the prophets!" Wilson exclaimed. "The idea of Cuthbert
Hartington rebuking us for laziness is rich indeed," and a roar of
laughter showed the general appreciation of the absurdity.
"Never mind," Cuthbert said, loftily. "You will see; 'from morn till
dewy eve,' will be my idea of work. It is the way you men loaf, and call
it working, that has so far kept me from setting to. Now I am going to
burst the bonds of the Castle of Indolence, and when I come back from
Paris I shall try to stir you all up to something like activity."
There was another laugh, and then Wilson said, "Well, it is the best
thing you can do to go abroad. I don't believe you would ever make a
fresh start here."
"I have made fresh a start, Wilson; our respected brother Terrier here,
has undertaken to teach me the rudiments, and for the next three months
his studio doors will be closed to all visitors from ten to five."
"Is that so? I congratulate you, Cuthbert; that really looks like
business, and if Terrier can't teach you how to use the brush and put on
color no one can. Gentlemen, we will drink the health of the new boy.
Here is to Cuthbert Hartington, and success to him." Glasses were raised
and the sentiment heartily echoed.
For three months Cuthbert worked steadily; to his own surprise, not less
than to that of his instructor, he found the hours none too long for
him. During that time he had received a letter from Mr. Brander that
surprised him.
"Dear Mr. Hartington,--In accordance with your instructions I at once
informed the Receiver of the bank that you were prepared to hand over
the Fairclose estates for the benefit of the creditors, instead of
waiting for the calls to be made, and that you wished the matter to be
arranged as speedily as possible as you were shortly going abroad. The
necessary deeds will in a few days be prepared. You will doubtless be
surprised to hear that I have arranged with the Receiver for the
purchase of the estates by private treaty. I have long been intending to
retire from business, and have been on the lookout for an estate in the
county. I hope this arrangement will not be displeasing to you."
As Mr. Brander had the reputation of being a wealthy man, and his wife's
wishes that he should retire from business and purchase an estate in the
county were public property, Cuthbert was not surprised, but at the same
time he was not altogether pleased. He had never liked the lawyer. He
had no particular grounds for not doing so, but he had as a boy an
instinctive notion that he was a humbug.
"I wonder," he said to himself, "whether he has all along had an eye to
Fairclose, and whether he really did his best to dissuade my father from
making that disastrous investment. At any rate, it does not make any
difference to me who is there. It might have been some stranger, some
manufacturing fellow; I would rather think of Mary being at the old
place than a man of that sort. He would have been more likely than
Brander to be hard on the tenants, and to have sold off all the things
and have turned the place inside out. I don't say that under ordinary
circumstances I should choose Brander as a landlord, but he will know
well enough that there would be nothing that would do him more harm in
the county than a report that he was treating the Squire's tenants
harshly. Well, I suppose I had better write him a line saying that I am
glad to hear that he has bought the place, as I would naturally prefer
that it should be in his hands than those of a stranger."
A fortnight later, Cuthbert, in looking over the "Abchester Guardian,"
which was sent to him weekly, as the subscription was not yet run out,
read the following paragraph: "We understand that our greatly respected
townsman, Mr. J. Brander, has purchased the house and estate of
Fairclose, which has come into the market owing to the failure of the
Abchester Bank, in which the late Mr. Hartington was most unfortunately
a shareholder, and which has involved hundreds of families in ruin. The
greatest sympathy is everywhere expressed for Mr. Cuthbert Hartington.
We understand that the price given by Mr. Brander was £55,000. We
believe that we are correct in stating that Mr. Brander was the holder
of a mortgage of £15,000 on the estate."
"Mortgage for £15,000," Cuthbert repeated, "impossible. Why should my
father have mortgaged the place? He could have no occasion to raise the
money. His tastes were most simple, and I am sure that he never lived
beyond his income. He paid me a handsome allowance, but, thank God, I
never exceeded it. What in the world can this mean! I will write to
Brander at once. No, I won't, I will write to the liquidator. If there
was such a thing he is certain to have looked into it closely, for it
was so much off the sum available for assets."
By return of post Cuthbert received the following letter:
"Dear Mr. Hartington--In reply to your question I beg to confirm the
statement in the newspaper cutting you send to me. Mr. Brander was the
holder of a mortgage for £15,000 on your father's estate. I looked into
the matter very closely, as it came as a surprise upon us. Everything
was in proper order. Mr. Brander's bank-book showed that he drew out
£15,000 on the date of the mortgage, and the books of the bank confirm
his book. Notice had been given to them a week previously that he would
require that sum in notes and gold, and it was so paid over to him. His
books also show payment of the interest, and his receipts for the same
were found among Mr. Hartington's papers. There was, therefore, no
shadow of a doubt possible as to the genuine nature of the
mortgage.--Yours truly, W. H. Cox."
Although satisfied that for some reason or other his father had borrowed
this sum on mortgage from his lawyer, Cuthbert was no less puzzled than
before as to the purpose for which it had been raised, or what his
father could possibly have done with the money. He, therefore, wrote to
Mr. Brander, saying that though it was a matter in which he had himself
no pecuniary interest, he should be glad if he would inform him of the
circumstance which led his father to borrow such a sum.
"I thought," he said, "that I knew everything about my father's money
affairs, for he always spoke most openly about them to me, and he never
let drop a word as to the mortgage or as to any difficulty in which he
had involved himself, or any investment he had thought of making; and I
am, therefore, entirely at a loss to understand how he could have
required such a sum of money."
The lawyer's answer came in due course.
"My dear Mr. Hartingon,--I was in no way surprised at the receipt of
your letter, and indeed have been expecting an inquiry from you as to
the mortgage. It happened in this way: Some three years ago your father
said to me, 'I want to raise £15,000 on the estate, Brander.' I was
naturally greatly surprised, for acting for him as I did, I was, of
course, aware that he lived well within his income. He went on, 'Of
course you are surprised, Brander, but as you must know well most men
have a skeleton in a cupboard somewhere. I have one, and as I am getting
on in life I want to bury it for good. It makes no difference to you
what it is, and I have no intention of going into the matter. It
suffices that I want £15,000.' 'Of course there is no difficulty about
that, sir,' I said, 'the estate is unencumbered, and as there is no
entail you are free to do with it as you like. 'But I want it done
quietly,' he said, 'I don't want it talked about that I have mortgaged
Fairclose. The best plan by far would be for you to do it yourself,
which I have no doubt you can do easily enough if you like.' I said that
I would much rather have nothing to do with it, as I have always
considered it a mistake for lawyers to become principals in money
transactions with their clients, and had always refused to do anything
of the sort. However, he put the matter so strongly that he at last
induced me, against my better judgment, to consent to advance the money,
and at his earnest request I handed him the money in notes, so that no
one, even at the bank, should be aware that such a sum had passed
between us. Of course the mortgage was drawn up in the usual form and
duly executed and witnessed, and I have no doubt that the liquidator of
the bank will be happy to show you your father's receipt for the money
and the receipts given by me to him for the interest. As you say the
matter does not pecuniarily affect you now, but at the same time I am
naturally anxious you should satisfy yourself thoroughly that the
transaction was in every respect a bona fide one."
Cuthbert sat for some time with the letter before him.
"I suppose the dear old dad must have got into some scrape or other
years ago," he said to himself. "What it was it is no use wondering,
still less inquiring about. I am surprised he never told me, but I
suppose he could not wind himself up to the point, and I have no doubt
he intended to tell me some day, and would have done so if he hadn't
been carried off so suddenly. Anyhow, he knew me well enough to be sure
that when I heard of this mortgage, and learned how it had been done
that my love and respect for him would be sufficient to prevent my
trying to search into his past. He little thought that the mortgage
would not affect me to the extent of a penny. Well, there is an end of
it, and I won't think any more about the matter the secret is dead and
buried; let it rest there. And now it is time to be off to my work."