MRS. HARCOURT’S LETTER.
It was certainly a trying position in which Ben was placed. He was only
a boy of sixteen, and he found a man’s responsibility thrown upon him.
In this juncture General Flint came to his assistance and practically
took charge of the funeral arrangements.
According to instructions Ben opened the desk of his patroness, and
found the sealed letter which he opened. It had been written since Mrs.
Harcourt came to Geneva.
There were parts of it that surprised Ben not a little. The material
portions are given below.
“Though I am in perfect health, so far as I know, there is a
presentiment on my mind that I shall not live long. Should any
sudden end come it is absolutely necessary that you should have
an explanation of my selecting you as my companion and adopted
son. I hope that what I may have to say will not entirely
destroy your regard for me.
“My own son, Edwin, for whom you are named, died about a
year since and his body lies in Lausanne. I will not dwell
upon my grief for the death of my only son. That will be
understood. But apart from this his death brought me pecuniary
embarrassment. He received by the will of his grandfather
an income of ten thousand dollars a year, which was at my
disposal. For myself, I am comparatively poor. I have about
forty thousand dollars, but the income of this would not be
adequate to keep up the style and rate of expenditure to which
I have been accustomed. I was tempted therefore to conceal the
poor boy’s death. I sailed for New York, and on the Bowery
I met you. You were of the right age and bore a sufficient
resemblance to Edwin to enable me to carry on the imposture
which I planned. You know how I attached you to myself, and
dressed you so that you might pass for my son. There was danger
of discovery. For this reason, though I carried you with me to
the house of my uncle, I only made one call, and relied upon
his short-sightedness not to discover the deception. As he
might ask you some embarrassing questions, I warned you that
his mind was affected, so that they might not give rise to
any suspicions in your mind, for I feared that you would not
consent to play the part I designed for you if you thought it
would be aiding and abetting fraud.
“The person whom I feared most was my cousin Basil Wentworth.
He was not short-sighted, and he might very possibly remember
my son Edwin, though he had not seen him for several years.
Of course I was delighted to find that he was in Chicago. But
suddenly, while dining at my uncle’s table, I was informed that
in a few days he would be back in New York. I decided at once
to go back to Europe, and lest you should object I said nothing
to you about my plan till we were on the Etruria. After the
steamer was under way I felt relieved. The danger was passed.
“On learning to know you better I found that I had made
a fortunate selection. You had the looks and bearing of
a gentleman and won the favor of all, even those of high
position, as in the case of the Earl of Bentley and his family.
I was proud of your social successes, since it reflected credit
on me, who was supposed to be your mother.
“You remember how suddenly I left Paris. It was because I heard
that Basil was in London, and likely any day to run over to
Paris. He would undoubtedly ask you questions which would
reveal the deception which I had practised. I came to Geneva,
and finding it an agreeable residence I have remained here.
“Now let me tell you whom I have wronged. The income of my poor
boy was, at his death, to to be divided equally between Basil
Wentworth and a cousin who married a man named Mordaunt, and
was at last accounts residing in Illinois.”
Ben started in surprise. He remembered that Frank Mordaunt had told him
of his former residence in Illinois.
“Can it be possible,” he asked himself, “that Frank’s family will
inherit five thousand dollars income when this deception is made known?
I heartily hope so. It would relieve them from all anxiety.”
Ben was of a generous disposition, and the thought of his own loss did
not occur to him.
“Should I be taken away, in which case and only then, this
letter will fall into your hands, I desire as far as possible
to repair the great wrong which I have done. I therefore ask
you to telegraph at once to Basil Wentworth that I am dead, and
request him, if possible, to come immediately to Europe, as
you are too young to meet the responsibility which would fall
upon you. It is my desire that the money due to Basil and the
Mordaunts should be given to them, and the year’s income which
has been paid to me for you should be paid over by my bankers.
I have a will in the hands of John Munroe & Co., the Paris
bankers, and upon the receipt of an order it will be delivered
to Basil, whom I have designated as my executor.
“And now, Edwin, as I have learned to call you, I will close
this letter. I have made it as definite as possible. During
the time you have been with me I have formed an attachment to
you. I earnestly hope that you may live long and prosper, and
that you will never regret meeting with the mother of Edwin
Harcourt.”
There was a certain pathos about this letter, and the tears rose to
Ben’s eyes. He could not realize that the woman with whom he had been
constantly associated for nearly a year, was really dead and that he
would see her no more.
“I suppose we ought to telegraph to Mrs. Harcourt’s relatives,” said
Ben, referring to General Flint.
“That seems to me the best thing to do, Ben. Do you know where they
live?”
“Both in New York, and both in the same house. Mr. Anderson is the
uncle of Mr. Wentworth.”
In the desk Edwin found nearly a thousand dollars, so that he was
provided with money to pay Mrs. Harcourt’s funeral expenses.
“If there had been any difficulty, Edwin, I would have seen you
through,” said his friend General Flint. “And that reminds me, your
adopted mother says nothing of any provision for you.”
“No,” said Ben.
“What will you do if you are left out in the cold?”
“I have about one hundred and fifty dollars saved up from my allowance,
which has been liberal.”
“That won’t go far.”
“No; but I won’t borrow trouble.”
“There is no occasion to do so. You have a friend in Obed Flint.”
“Thank you,” said Ben gratefully. “If I need a friend there is no one I
would sooner apply to than you.”
This was the form of telegram which Ben sent to Basil Wentworth:
“Mrs. Harcourt is dead. Will you come on? She instructed me to
send for you.”
This telegram, after some consideration, Ben signed “Edwin” as he could
not explain that he had no claim to this name. The explanation would
come later on.
He received an answer the same day. It ran thus:
“EDWIN HARCOURT:
“I will sail by the next steamer. Accept my sympathy.
“BASIL WENTWORTH.”
“You have done all you could, Edwin,” said the general. “There is
nothing to do but to wait till Mr. Wentworth arrives.”
“Will you stay also?” asked Ben anxiously.
“Yes, my boy. General Obed Flint is not the man to desert a friend when
he needs him as much as you do.”
Ben also wrote a letter to Frank Mordaunt.
“If you are nearly related to Mrs. Harcourt,” he said, “I think
you must be the heir to her son, who died more than a year
since. Mr. Basil Wentworth, who is joint heir with you, is on
his way to Europe, and will communicate with you. He had lost
all traces of your family, but I think myself fortunate in
being able to put him on your track. Hereafter, Frank, you will
have no money troubles, and no one will rejoice more over your
good fortune than your friend Ben Bruce.”