Every one in the room uttered an ejaculation at the housekeeper's
announcement, but the old lawyer remained calm.
"I'll come and speak to him," he said. "Don't be alarmed," he turned
and whispered to Mrs Hampton. "Some mistake of the old woman's. Try
and keep her calm. A messenger, I think."
As he reached the door, the old woman laid her hand upon his arm, and
whispered to him: "But it is not Mr George, sir."
"No, of course not, woman. A message from him. Where is the
gentleman?"
"The dining-room things were not all cleared away, sir, and I showed him
into the study."
Mr Hampton nodded, and in a quiet, business-like way went out, and
crossed the hall to the study, where the visitor, a tall, deeply
sun-browned, frank-looking young man, who looked hollow-cheeked, as if
from some long illness, rose from his seat.
The lawyer bowed.
"I want to see Miss Gertrude Bellwood," said the visitor.
"I am her nearest friend, sir; and, I may say, I am deputed to hear your
business. You come from Mr George Harrington, I presume?"
"Well, no, sir. I only reached Liverpool yesterday, London this
afternoon. I am George Harrington."
"What?"
"You seem surprised. I received letters from my grandfather, asking me,
urgently, to return to England. I had made my preparations for
returning, when I met with--an accident, and I have been dangerously
ill. When I recovered and reached San Francisco, I found another letter
announcing my grandfather's death, and I came on at once."
The old man looked at his visitor curiously.
"May I ask to whom I am speaking?" continued the young man.
"My name is Hampton, sir. I was the late Mr Harrington's confidential
legal adviser and executor."
"Oh, indeed. Then that makes matters easy for me. You know everything,
then?"
"Yes, I know everything," said the lawyer, with a very searching look.
"Then my cousin, sir--she has always been spoken of in letters as my
cousin, though no relation."
The lawyer raised his eyebrows a little.
"I am, of course, under the circumstances, anxious to meet her."
"May I ask under what circumstances, sir?"
"I understood you to say you knew everything, sir. We are betrothed--
Miss Gertrude Bellwood is to be my wife."
Both started, for at that moment Gertrude, whom Mrs Hampton had been
unable to restrain, stood in the doorway, with the old lady at her
elbow.
She took a couple of steps forward, gazing wildly in the frank, handsome
face before her--a face which lit up with satisfaction as it encountered
the earnest gaze of the young girl.
"Are you Gertrude?" he exclaimed, advancing with extended hands.
"Stop?" said the old lawyer, interposing, as he tried to master the
difficulties of his position. "You will excuse me, sir, but you come
here an utter stranger. You are, you say, Mr George Harrington."
"Certainly. Who doubts it?"
"We will not discuss that matter now, sir. Recollect we live in days
when impositions are practised."
"Oh, I see. Of course. Quite right, my dear sir. As my grandfather's
executor, you are bound to be careful. Pray go on."
"Mrs Hampton," faltered Gertrude.
"Hush, my child; be calm," whispered the old lady.
"Then, perhaps, sir, you will give me some proof that you are the
gentleman you say."
"Proofs? Are any needed?" said the young man laughingly, as if it was
absurd that his word should be doubted. "Oh, well, then, first and
foremost here I am, George Harrington, my father's son, happily in the
flesh, though I have had a very narrow escape from death."
"Very good, sir; now some other proof. Gertrude, my child, had you not
better retire?"
"No, Mr Hampton," said Gertrude firmly.
"That's quite right," said the young man, giving her a keen, earnest
look, so full of pleased admiration that Gertrude trembled, and her eyes
fell. There was something so new in that look. "If any one ought to
stay here, Miss Bellwood, it should be you. Well, Mr Hampton, you want
proofs?"
"Yes, sir--the letters, for instance."
"I have only the one I received. The others were stolen from me."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, sir, with everything of value that I possessed. Hang it all, man,
don't look so sceptical."
"I beg pardon, sir. Go on. Of course you see I must have proof that
you are the gentleman you represent yourself to be."
"Well, let me see. I disposed of everything I had before I went upon a
hunting expedition, all but a few necessaries, and bought other things
suitable for my expedition. These, I regret to say, I have lost, and
but for the kindness of some people in the West, I should not have been
able to get here."
"Then you have nothing you can show?" said the old lawyer.
Gertrude looked wildly and inquiringly at their visitor, for vaguely it
seemed as if some one had been holding out to her a hand to save her
from a fate from which she shrank more and more as the hours glided by,
but that, after all, this stretched-out hand was only a delusion and a
snare.
"Well, no," said their visitor, with his broad brow puckering up with
perplexity. "You see,"--and he gave all a frank, half-smiling look,
which won upon Mrs Hampton, though she received it in the most stony
way--"I came here to-night all eager, and expecting to be received with
open arms, and you all look like ice, and treat me as if I were an
impostor. No, sir, I have no proofs; and, for the moment, I don't know
how to establish my identity. Of course it will be all right. I can
only say now that I am George Harrington."
Gertrude, in spite of herself, gave him a pitying glance, to which he
responded by one so bold and masterful that he felt for the moment as if
held, and the colour, which had been absent from her cheeks for weeks,
slowly began to mantle there.
"Here, stop a bit, sir. This is The Mynns. I came and stayed here
once."
"Ah!" said the lawyer slowly; "then you recollect all about the place?"
"No," said the young man thoughtfully, "I was such a little kidling.
No; I don't recollect anything. I don't know, though; have you any
portrait of the old man? I might remember him."
"Was that anything like him?" said the lawyer, pointing to an oil
painting of Gertrude's father, which was over the mantelpiece.
"No; not a bit," said the young man shortly. "Not a bit."
Gertrude's spirits rose a little, as in secret she began to wish that
their visitor's words were true, though she did not doubt it herself.
"Shall we walk into the dining-room?" said the lawyer; "there are
several portraits there."
"By all means. I want to clear my character, ladies. Rather hard on a
man to be taken for a trickster and a cheat."
"No one accuses you, sir, of being either," said the old lawyer gravely.
"I am one of the executors of Mr Harrington's will, and I have a duty,
greater than you realise, to perform."
He led the way to the dining-room, where their visitor immediately fixed
his eyes on the portrait of the late owner of The Mynns, to the
exclusion of three other portraits on the walls.
"That's more like what I should have taken the old man to be; but no,
no, no. It would be a contemptible sham for me to pretend to recognise
him, so I give that up at once. Look here, sir, can't you--or can't
you, Miss Gertrude, cross-examine me a bit about my father and mother,
and our family history?"
"Yes," said the old lawyer; and he put a series of questions, all of
which were instantly answered.
"This is all very satisfactory, sir, but I want more proof. Let me see;
the late Mr Harrington gave you a watch, did he not?"
The question was asked in a slow, peculiar way, and Gertrude darted a
searching look at the unmoved countenance before her.
"A watch? Gave me a watch, sir? No. The boot was on the other foot."
Gertrude's face lighted up again. She hardly dared to confess it, but
she wanted, more and more, for this one to prove that he was the true
George Harrington whom she was to love and honour.
"Oh! You gave him a watch, I am to understand?"
"Yes, with a chain made out of nuggets. The case was made of gold I
found. I sent it because the old man always girded at my father for
gold-hunting, and it was to show him what we could do. But will you not
sit down, ladies?" he added, with a rather rough, but natural courtesy.
"Perhaps you will take a seat, too, sir," said the old lawyer, who was
impressed favourably by his visitor's manner, and felt a lingering hope
that his tale might be true, though all the while upon his guard against
imposition.
"I will with pleasure, for I am tired. Stop a moment?" he cried
excitedly; "I recollect that old girl. She used to take lumps of sugar,
melt them in a wax-candle, and let yellow drops of the sweet fall on a
piece of writing-paper. You ask her presently. By Jove!" he cried
laughingly, "think of my remembering that."
Gertrude's heart gave a great throb, and she dared not meet the frank,
merry eyes directed at her.
"Humph?" ejaculated the lawyer, scanning the face before him narrowly,
and always to be met by a frank, manly look. "I find I am supposed to
be wrong, then, about the watch?"
"Oh, yes, sir, you were wrong there. Why, by Jove! the old man wrote
and told me he should leave me that watch."
"There was the series of remittances then, sir," continued the lawyer.
"You will allow, then, that the late Mr Harrington made you an
allowance?"
"I agree that this is a trap, Mr Lawyer," said the young man; "but that
was a thoroughly confidential matter, upon which we will not speak.
Yes; have it your way if you like--the old man used to keep me."
"Humph! I wish my co-executor was here," said the lawyer, after a
pause.
"So do I, sir, if it would simplify matters. All this is very
unpleasant, of course."
"More so, sir, than you imagine."
"Well, pray tell me what to do. Here have I come to claim my heritage
and my--I beg pardon," he said quickly, with an admiring look at
Gertrude, "my wife and my heritage, and the lady does not so much as
shake hands with me."
Gertrude, in spite of herself, gave him an apologetic look.
"And you treat me as if I were a scoundrel."
"I am compelled to look upon your claim, sir, with suspicion."
"Well, sir, you are a lawyer; perhaps you will let me retain your
services on my behalf."
"Certainly not, sir. You are attacking, I am for the defence."
"Very well then, sir, I must get another advocate, I suppose, and oust
you from your position."
He paused for a few moments, and looked fixedly at Gertrude, and his
gaze intensified, not in boldness, but in respectful ardour, as he
slowly rose, and, with a sigh of satisfaction, held out his hand to her.
"Gertrude Bellwood," he said, "I am a rough man; I have lived a wild
pioneering life where, for the most part, I have rarely seen woman, but
I inherited from my sweet, dear mother's teaching a feeling of
veneration for her, as one whom it is our duty to look upon with
chivalrous respect. Frankly, I came here to-night, ready to claim the
property my grandfather has bequeathed me, and to set the lady he wished
me to wed quite free to follow her own bent. I feel it is my duty to do
this, but I shall wait a while; meantime, I venture to think that you do
not look upon me as an impostor. I am George Harrington, and though I
now offer you my hand, it is only for the first friendly clasp. You
will shake hands with me?"
Gertrude's eyes were fixed on his, and held there as if fascinated. She
did not speak, but looked at him wildly. But at last slowly, and in the
midst of an utter silence, she said faintly:
"I don't know what to think--you do not know. Mr Hampton, why do you
not explain?"
Then gathering strength and firmness, she raised her hand and placed it
in the firm, strong palm which closed upon it with a pressure that was
painful, though it sent a thrill of pleasure through her, such as she
had never felt before.
"No," she said; "no one who was an impostor could look and speak like
this."
"God bless you, my darling!" he cried warmly, as the tears started to
his eyes; "and none but a true, sweet woman would have spoken like
this."
"Stop!" said the old lawyer, coming between them, and holding them
apart. "You have, sir, to make your pretensions good. Mr George
Harrington is here in England, has claimed his own, and is this young
lady's betrothed."
"What? Then where is he? Bring us face to face."