CHAPTER XXXVI. A GREAT DISCOVERY
About an hour after Massingbred's departure for Kilkieran, Mr. Reptonset out for Cro' Martin Castle. The inn had furnished him its bestchaise and four of its primest horses; and had the old lawyer beendisposed to enjoy the pleasure which a great moralist has rated sohighly, of rapid motion through the air, he might have been gratified onthat occasion. Unhappily, however, he was not so minded. Many and veryserious cares pressed upon him. He was travelling a road, too, which hehad so often journeyed in high spirits, fancying to himself the pleasantwelcome before him, and even rehearsing to his own mind the stores ofagreeability he was to display,--and now it was to a deserted mansion,lonely and desolate, he was turning! Death and ruin both had done theirwork on that ancient family, whose very name in the land seemed alreadyhastening to oblivion!
Few men could resist the influence of depression better than Repton. Itwas not alone that his temperament was still buoyant and energetic,but the habits of his profession had taught him the necessity of beingprepared for emergencies, and he would have felt it a dereliction ofduty were his sentiments to overmaster his power of action.
Still, as he went along, the well-known features of the spot wouldrecall memories of the past. There lay a dense wood, of which heremembered the very day, the very hour, poor Martin had commenced theplanting. There was the little trout-stream, where, under pretenceof fishing, he had lounged along the summer day, with Horace for hiscompanion; that, the school-house Mary had sketched, and built out ofher own pocket-money. And now the great massive gates slowly opened, andthey were within the demesne,--all silent and noiseless. As they came insight of the castle, Repton covered his face with his hands, and sat forsome minutes thus. Then, as if mastering his emotion, he raised his headand folded his arms on his chest.
"You are true to time, I perceive, Dr. Leslie," said he, as the chaisestopped at the door and the venerable clergyman came forward to greethim.
"I got your note last night, sir, but I determined not to keep youwaiting, for I perceive you say that time is precious now."
"I thank you heartily," said Repton, as he shook the other's hand. "I amgrateful to you also for being here to meet me, for I begin to feel mycourage fail me as to crossing that threshold again!"
"Age has its penalties as well as its blessings, sir," said Leslie,"and amongst these is to outlive those dear to us!" There was a painfulsignificance to his own desolate condition that made these words doublyimpressive.
Repton made no reply, but pulled the bell strongly; and the loud, deepsounds rung out clearly through the silent house. After a brief intervala small window above the door was opened, and a man with a blunderbussin his hand sternly demanded their business.
"Oh, I ax pardon, sir," said he, as suddenly correcting himself. "Ithought it was that man that 's come to take the place,--'the Jew,'they call him,--and Mr. Magennis said I was n't to let him in, or onebelonging to him."
"No, Barney, we are not his friends," said Dr. Leslie; "this is Mr.Repton."
"Sure I know the Counsellor well, sir," said Barney. "I 'll be down in aminute and open the door."
"I must go to work at once," said Repton, in a low and somewhat brokenvoice, "or this place will be too much for me. Every step I go iscalling up old times and old scenes. I had thought my heart wasof sterner stuff. Isn't this the way to the library? No, not thatway,--that was poor Martin's own breakfast-room!" He spoke hurriedly,like one who wished to suppress emotion by very activity of thought.
While the man who conducted them opened the window-shutters and thewindows, Repton and his companion sat down without speaking. At last hewithdrew, and Repton, rising, said,--"Some of the happiest hours of mylife were passed in this same room. I used to come up here after thefatigues of circuit, and, throwing myself into one of those easy-chairs,dream away for a day or two, gazing out on that bold mountain yonder,above the trees, and wondering how those fellows who never relaxed, inthis wise, could sustain the wear and tear of life; for that junketingto Harrow-gate, that rattling, noisy steamboating up the Rhine, thatCockney heroism of Swiss travel, is my aversion. The calm forenoonfor thought, the pleasant dinner-table for genial enjoymentafterwards,--these are true recreations. And what evenings we have hadhere! But I must not dwell on these." And now he threw upon the table amass of papers and letters, amongst which he sought out one, from whichhe took a small key. "Dr. Leslie," said he, "you might have been assuredthat I have not called upon you to meet me to-day without a sufficientreason. I know that, from certain causes, of which I am not wellinformed, you were not on terms of much intimacy with my poor friendhere. This is not a time to think of these things; _you_, I am wellassured, will never remember them."
Leslie made a motion of assent; and the other went on, his voicegradually gaining in strength and fulness, and his whole manner bydegrees assuming the characteristic of the lawyer.
"To the few questions to which I will ask your answers, now, I have torequest all your attention. They are of great importance; they may, veryprobably, be re-asked of you under more solemn circumstances; and I haveto bespeak, not alone all your accuracy for the replies, but that youmay be able, if asked, to state the manner and even the words in whichI now address you.--You have been the incumbent of this parish for alength of time,--what number of years?"
"Sixty-three. I was appointed to the vicarage on my ordination, andnever held any other charge."
"You knew the late Darcy Martin, father of the last proprietor of thisestate?"
"Intimately."
"You baptized his two children, born at the same birth. State what youremember of the circumstance."
"I was sent for to the castle to give a private baptism to the twoinfants, and requested that I would bring the vestry-book along withme for the registration. I did so. The children were accordinglychristened, and their births duly registered and witnessed."
"Can you remember the names by which they were called?"
"Not from the incident in question, though I know the names fromsubsequent knowledge of them, as they grew up to manhood."
"What means, if any, were adopted at the time to distinguish thepriority of birth?"
"The eldest was first baptized, and his birth specially entered inthe vestry-book as such; all the witnesses who signed the entrycorroborating the fact by special mention of it under their signature.We also heard that the child wore a gold bracelet on one arm; but I didnot remark it."
"You have this vestry-book in your keeping?"
"No; Mr. Martin retained it, with some object of more formalregistration. I repeatedly asked for it, but never could obtain it. Atlength some coolness grew up between us, and I could not, or did notwish to press my demand; and at last it lapsed entirely from my memory,so that from that day I never saw it."
"You could, however, recognize it, and be able to verify yoursignature?"
"Certainly."
"Was there, so far as you could see, any marked distinction made betweenthe children while yet young?"
"I can remember that at the age of three or four the eldest boy wore apiece of red or blue ribbon on his sleeve; but any other mark I neverobserved. They were treated, so far as I could perceive, preciselyalike; and their resemblance to each other was then so striking, itwould have been a matter of great nicety to distinguish them. Evenat school, I am told, mistakes constantly occurred, and one boy oncereceived the punishment incurred by the other."
"As they grew up, you came to recognize the eldest by his name?"
"Yes. Old Mr. Darcy Martin used to take the elder boy more about withhim. He was then a child of ten or eleven years old. He was particularin calling attention to him, saying, 'This fellow is to be my heir;he 'll be the Martin of Cro' Martin yet'"
"And what name did the boy bear?"
"Godfrey,--Godfrey Martin. The second boy's name was Barry."
"You are sure of this?"
"Quite sure. I have dined a number of times at the castle, when Godfreywas called in after dinner
, and the other boy was generally in disgrace;and I could remark that his father spoke of him in a tone of irritationand bitterness, which he did not employ towards the other."
"Mr. Martin died before his sons came of age?"
"Yes; they were only nineteen at his death."
"He made a will, I believe, to which you were a witness?"
"I was; but somehow the will was lost or mislaid, and it was only bya letter to the Honorable Colonel Forbes, of Lisvally, that Martin'sintentions about appointing him guardian to his elder boy wereascertained. I myself was named guardian to the second son, an officeof which he soon relieved me by going abroad, and never returned for anumber of years."
"Godfrey Martin then succeeded to the estate in due course?"
"Yes, and we were very intimate for a time, till after his marriage,when estrangement grew up between us, and at last we ceased to visit atall."
"Were the brothers supposed to be on good terms with each other?"
"I have heard two opposite versions on that subject. My own impressionwas that Lady Dorothea disliked Barry Martin, who had made a marriagethat was considered beneath him; and then his brother was, from easinessof disposition, gradually weaned of his old affection for him. Manythought Barry, with all his faults, the better-hearted of the two."
"Can you tell what ultimately became of this Barry Martin?"
"I only know, from common report, that after the death of his wife,having given his infant child, a girl, in charge to his brother, heengaged in the service of some of the Southern American Republics,and is supposed yet to be living there,--some say in great affluence;others, that he is utterly ruined by a failure in a mining speculation.The last time I ever heard Godfrey speak of him was in terms of sincereaffection, adding the words, 'Poor Barry will befriend every one buthimself.'"
"So that he never returned?"
"I believe not; at least I never heard of it."
"I have written down these questions and your answers to them," saidRepton; "will you read them over, and if you find them correct, appendyour signature. I am expecting Mr. Nelligan here, and I 'll go and seeif there be any sign of his arrival."
Repton just reached the door as Mr. Nelligan drove up to it.
"All goes on well and promptly to-day," said the old lawyer. "I have gotthrough a good deal of business already, and I expect to do as much moreere evening sets in. I have asked you to be present, as a magistrate,while I examine the contents of a certain closet in this house. I am ledto believe that very important documents are deposited there, and it isin your presence, and that of Mr. Leslie, I purpose to make the inquiry.Before I do so, however, I will entreat your attention to a number ofquestions, and the answers to them, which will be read out to you. Youwill then be in a better position to judge of any discovery which thepresent investigation may reveal. All this sounds enigmatically enough,Mr. Nelligan; but you will extend your patience to me for a short while,and I hope to repay it."
Nelligan bowed in silence, and followed him into the house.
"There," said Mr. Leslie, "I have written my name to that paper; it is,so far as I can see, perfectly correct."
"Now, let me read it for Mr. Nelligan," said Repton; and, withoutfurther preface, recited aloud the contents of the document. "Iconclude, sir," said he, as he finished, "that there is nothing in whatyou have just heard very new or very strange to your ears. You knewbefore that Darcy Martin had two sons; that they were twins; and thatone of them, Godfrey, inherited the estate. You may also have heardsomething of the brother's history; more, perhaps, than is here alludedto."
"I have always heard him spoken of as a wild, reckless fellow, and thatit was a piece of special good fortune he was not born to the property,or he had squandered every shilling of it," said Nelligan.
"Yes," said Leslie, "such was the character he bore."
"That will do," said Repton, rising. "Now, gentlemen, I'm about tounlock this cabinet, and, if I be correctly informed, we shall findthe vestry-book with the entries spoken of by Mr. Leslie, and the longmissing will of Darcy Martin. Such, I repeat, are the objects I expectto discover; and it is in your presence I proceed to this examination."
In some astonishment at his words, the others followed him to the cornerof the room, where, half concealed in the wainscot, a small door wasat length discovered, unlocking which, Repton and the others entered alittle chamber, lighted by a narrow, loopholed window. Not stopping toexamine the shelves loaded with old documents and account-books, Reptonwalked straight to a small ebony cabinet, on a bracket, opening which,he drew forth a square vellum-bound book, with massive clasps.
"The old vestry-book. I know it well," said Leslie.
"Here are the documents in parchment," continued Repton, "and a sealedpaper. What are the lines in the corner, Mr. Nelligan,--your eyes arebetter than mine?"
"'Agreement between Godfrey and Barry Martin. To be opened by whichevershall survive the other.' The initials of each are underneath."
"With this we have no concern," said Repton; "our business lies withthese." And he pointed to the vestry-book. "Let us look for the entryyou spoke of."
"It is easily found," said Leslie. "It was the last ever made in thatbook. Here it is." And he read aloud: "'February 8th, 1772. Privatelybaptized, at Cro' Martin Castle, by me, Henry Leslie, Incumbent andVicar of the said parish, Barry and Godfrey, sons of Darcy Martin andEleanor his wife, both born on the fourth day of the aforesaid month;and, for the better discrimination of their priority in age, it ishereby added that Barry Martin is the elder, and Godfrey the secondson, to which fact the following are attesting witnesses: Michael Keirn,house-steward; George Dorcas, butler; and Catharine Broon, maid ofstill-room.'"
"Is that in your handwriting, sir?" asked Repton.
"Yes, every word of it, except the superscription of the witnesses."
"Why, then it would appear that the eldest son never enjoyed hisrights," cried Nelligan. "Is that possible?"
"It is the strict truth, sir," said Repton. "The whole history of thecase adds one to the thousand instances of the miserable failures menmake who seek by the indulgence of their own caprices to obstruct thedecrees of Providence. Darcy Martin died in the belief that he hadso succeeded; and here, now, after more than half a century, are theevidences which reverse his whole policy, and subvert all his plans."
"But what could have been the object here?" asked Nelligan.
"Simply his preference for the younger-born. No sooner had the childrenarrived at that time of life when dispositions display themselves, thanhe singled out Godfrey as his favorite. He distinguished him in everyway, and as markedly showed that he felt little affection for the other.Whether this favoritism, so openly expressed, had its influence on therest of the household, or that really they grew to believe that theboy thus selected for peculiar honor was the heir, it would be verydifficult now to say. Each cause may have contributed its share; all weknow is, that when sent to Dr. Harley's school, at Oughterard, Godfreywas called the elder, and distinguished as such by a bit of red ribbonin his button-hole. And thus they grew up to youth and manhood,--theone flattered, indulged, and caressed; the other equally depreciated andundervalued. Men are, in a great measure, what others make them.Godfrey became proud, indolent, and overbearing; Barry, reckless and aspendthrift Darcy Martin died, and Godfrey succeeded him as matter ofcourse; while Barry, disposing of the small property bequeathed to him,set out to seek adventures in the Spanish Main.
"I am not able to tell, had you even the patience to hear, of whatbefell him there; the very strangest, wildest incidents are recordedof his life, but they have no bearing on what we are now engaged in. Hecame back, however, with a wife, to find his brother also married. Thisis a period of his life of which little is known. The brothers did notlive well together. There were serious differences between them; andLady Dorothea's conduct towards her sister-in-law, needlessly cruel andoffensive, as I have heard, imbittered the relations between them.At last Barry's wife died, it was said, of a bro
ken heart, and Barryarrived at Cro' Martin to deposit his infant child with his brother, andtake leave of home and country forever.
"Some incident of more than usual importance, and with circumstancesof no common pain, must now have occurred; for one night Barry left thecastle, vowing nevermore to enter it. Godfrey followed, and tried todetain him. A scene ensued of entreaty on one side, and passionatevehemence on the other, which brought some of the servants to the spot.Godfrey imperiously ordered them away; they all obeyed but Catty. CattyBroon followed Barry, and never quitted him that night, which he spentwalking up and down the long avenue of the demesne, watching and waitingfor daybreak. We can only conjecture what, in the violence of her griefand indignation, this old attached follower of the house might haverevealed. Barry had always been her favorite of the two boys; she knewhis rights; she had never forgotten them. She could not tell by whatsubtleties of law they had been transferred to another, but she felt inher heart assured that in the sight of God they were sacred. How far,then, she revealed this to him, or only hinted it, we have no means ofknowing. We can only say that, armed with a certain fact, Barry demandedthe next day a formal meeting with his brother and his sister-in-law. Ofwhat passed then and there, no record remains, save, possibly, inthat sealed packet; for it bears the date of that eventful morning.I, however, am in a position to prove that Barry declared he would notdisturb the possession Godfrey was then enjoying. 'Make that poorchild,' said he, alluding to his little girl, your own daughter, and itmatters little what becomes of _me_.' Godfrey has more than onceadverted to this distressing scene to me. He told me how Lady Dorothea'spassion was such that she alternately inveighed against himself forhaving betrayed her into a marriage beneath her, and abjectly imploredBarry not to expose them to the shame and disgrace of the whole world bythe assertion of his claim. From this she would burst out into fits ofopen defiance of him, daring him as an impostor; in fact, Martin said,'That morning has darkened my life forever; the shadow of it will beover me to the last hour I live!' And so it was! Self-reproach neverleft him: at one time, for his usurpation of what never was his; atanother, for the neglect of poor Mary, who was suffered to grow upwithout any care of her education, or, indeed, of any attention whateverbestowed upon her.
"I believe that, in spite of herself, Lady Dorothea visited thedislike she bore Barry on his daughter. It was a sense of hate from theconsciousness of a wrong,--one of the bitterest sources of enmity!At all events, she showed her little affection,--no tenderness. PoorGodfrey did all that his weak and yielding nature would permit to repairthis injustice; his consciousness that to that girl's father he owedposition, fortune, station, everything, was ever rising up in his mind,and urging him to some generous effort in her behalf. But you knew him;you knew how a fatal indolence, a shrinking horror of whatever demandedaction or energy overcame all his better nature, and made him asuseless to all the exigencies of life as one whose heart was eaten up byselfishness.
"The remainder of this sad story is told in very few words. Barry Martin,from whom for several years before no tidings had been received, camesuddenly back to England. At first it had not been his intention torevisit Ireland. There was something of magnanimity in the resolve tostay away. He would not come back to impose upon his brother a renewalof that lease of gratitude he derived from him; he would rather sparehim the inevitable conflict of feeling which the contrast of his ownaffluence with the humble condition of an exile would evoke. Besides, hewas one of those men whom, whatever Nature may have disposed them to be,the world has so crushed and hardened that they live rather to indulgestrong resentments and stern duties than to gratify warm affections.Something he had accidentally heard in a coffee-room--the chance mentionby a traveller recently returned from Ireland--about a young lady ofrank and fortune whom he had met hunting her own harriers alone in thewildest glen of Connemara, decided him to go over there, and, under thename of Mr. Barry, to visit the scenes of his youth.
"I have but to tell you that it was in that dreary month of November,when plague and famine came together upon us, that he saw this country;the people dying on every side, the land until led, the very crops insome places uncut, terror and dismay on every side, and they who alonecould have inspired confidence, or afforded aid, gone! Even Cro' Martinwas deserted,--worse than deserted; for one was left to struggle aloneagainst difficulties that the boldest and the bravest might have shrunkfrom. Had Barry Martin been like any other man, he would at once haveplaced himself at her side. It was a glorious occasion to have shownher that she was not the lone and friendless orphan, but the loved andcherished child of a doting father. But the hard, stern nature of theman had other and very different impulses; and though he tracked herfrom cottage to cottage, followed her in her lonely rambles, and watchedher in her daily duties, no impulse of affection ever moved him to callher his daughter and bring her home to his heart. I know not whether itwas to afford him these occasions of meeting her, or really in a spiritof benevolence, but he dispensed large sums in acts of charity among thepeople, and Mary herself recounted to me, with tears of delight in hereyes, the splendid generosity of this unknown stranger. I must hastenon. An accident, the mere circumstance of a note-book dropped by somestrange chance in Barry's room, revealed to him the whole story ofCaptain Martin's spendthrift life; he saw that this young man hadsquandered away not only immense sums obtained by loans, but actuallybartered his own reversionary right to the entire estate for moneyalready lost at the gaming-table.
"Barry at once set out for Dublin to call upon me and declare himself;but I was, unfortunately, absent at the assizes. He endeavored next tosee Scanlan. Scanlan was in London; he followed him there. To Scanlan herepresented himself as a money-lender, who, having come to the knowledgeof Merl's dealings with young Martin, and the perilous condition of theproperty in consequence, offered his aid to re-purchase the reversionwhile it was yet time. To effect this bargain, Scanlan hastened over toBaden, accompanied by Barry, who, however, for secrecy' sake, remainedat a town in the neighborhood. Scanlan, it seems, resolved to profitby an emergency so full of moment, and exacted from Lady Dorothea--forMartin was then too ill to be consulted--the most advantageous terms forhimself. I need not mention one of the conditions,--a formal consent tohis marriage with Miss Martin! and this, remember, when that young ladyhad not the slightest, vaguest suspicion that such an indignity couldbe offered her, far less concurred in by her nearest relatives! In theexuberance of his triumph, Scanlan showed the formal letter of assentfrom Lady Dorothea to Barry. It was from this latter I had the account,and I can give you no details, for all he said was, 'As I crushed it inmy hand, I clenched my fist to fell him to the ground! but I refrained.I muttered a word or two, and got out into the street. I know verylittle more.'
"That night he set out for Baden; but of his journey I know nothing. Theonly hint of it he ever dropped was when, giving me this key, he said,'I saw Godfrey.'
"He is now back here once more; come to insist upon his long unassertedrights, and by a title so indisputable that it will leave no doubt ofthe result.
"He is silent and uncommunicative; but he has said enough to show methat he is possessed of evidence of the compact between Godfrey andhimself; nor is he the man to fail for lack of energy.
"I have now come to the end of this strange history, in which it is notimpossible you yourselves may be called to play a part, in confirmationof what you have seen this day."
"Then this was the same Mr. Barry of whom we spoke last night?" saidNelligan, thoughtfully. "When about to describe him to you, I was reallygoing to say, something like what Mr. Martin might look, if ten yearsolder and white-haired."
"There is a strong resemblance still!" said Repton, as he busied himselfsealing up the vestry-book and the other documents. "These I mean todeposit in your keeping, Mr. Nelligan, till they be called for. I havesent over Massingbred to Barry to learn what his wishes may be as to thenext legal steps; and now I am ready to return with you to Oughterard."
Talking over this
singular story, they reached the town, whereMassingbred had just arrived a short time before.
"I have had a long chase," said Jack, "and only found him late in theafternoon at the cottage."
"You gave him the packet, then, and asked when we should meet?" askedRepton, hurriedly.
"Yes; he was walking up and down before the door with the doctor, whenwe rode up. He scarcely noticed us; and taking your letter in his handhe placed it, without breaking the seal, on a seat in the porch. I thengave him your message, and he seemed so lost in thought that I fanciedhe had not attended to me. I was about to repeat it, when he interruptedme, saying, 'I have heard you, sir; there is no answer.' As I stoodfor a moment or two, uncertain what to do or say, I perceived thatJoe Nelligan, who had been speaking to the doctor, had just staggeredtowards a bench, ill and fainting. 'Yes,' said Barry, turning his eyestowards him, 'she is very--very ill; tell Repton so, and he 'll feel forme!'"
Repton pressed his handkerchief to his face and turned away.
"I 'm afraid," said Massingbred, "that her state is highly dangerous.The few words the doctor dropped were full of serious meaning."
"Let us hope, and pray," said Repton, fervently, "that, amidst all thecalamities of this sorrow-struck land, it may be spared the loss of onewho never opened a cabin door without a blessing, nor closed it but toshut a hope within."