CHAPTER III.
AN ANONYMOUS LETTER.
Mrs. Haggard and her husband, both in deep mourning, sat in the specialboudoir at Walls End Castle which had been furnished and set apart forhis grand-nephew's wife on her first arrival years ago by old Lord PitTown. Haggard looked pale and weary, and well he might, for he had gonestraight to Monte Carlo and had come straight back, stopping onlyforty-eight hours there, just time enough to lay Lucy Warrender in hergrave. He had not gone alone; at his wife's insistance he had taken theyoung Lucius with him. He had been astonished at the determined mannerin which Georgie pressed this arrangement upon him; he yielded, thoughwith a bad grace. When he reached the Hotel de Russie, both he andLucius had declined to look on the face of the dead woman. Haggard had along interview with Fanchette, and then he called upon the Commissary ofPolice. The night before his mother was laid in her grave, LuciusHaggard, unknown to his companion, who was shut up in his room writing,visited the Rooms, won a couple of thousand francs, and thoroughlyenjoyed himself.
The next day the two men stood by the side of the shallow grave; gravesare shallow in Monaco, for the ground is very rocky. A wandering Englishclergyman, of more than doubtful reputation, gabbled through the servicefor the burial of the dead. The stones and bits of rock rattled upon thecoffin with a hollow sound, for the grave-digger didn't trouble himselfmuch about the feelings of the relatives of the foreign heretic.
"I think my aunt Lucy went off tremendously in the last year," saidyoung Lucius to his companion as they left the cemetery.
"Let her rest, boy, let her rest," was all the answer he got.
There was a sort of grey look of horror about Haggard's face, that theboy put down to grief for the departed. He was a hard-hearted youth, andwas frankly surprised that Haggard showed any feeling at all.
The husband and wife, as we have said, sat in Georgie's boudoir. Thiswas what passed between them.
"Your cousin seems to have made a nice mess of it," said Haggard. "Whyshe was penniless."
"Well, that wouldn't much matter, Reginald; she could have written toCoutts' for more."
"Gad, they write me that she drew out the last farthing she had in theworld two months ago. And that woman Fanchette, who is a very bad lotindeed, or I'm very much, mistaken, told me she pawned her earrings theday before she--died."
Georgie nodded. "I remember them, a pair of large single-stone earrings.I fancy she must have bought them when she first came into her property.I saw them quite by chance last summer, for the first time; and when Iadmired them, she said that she had had them for years, that they hadbeen her first folly and had cost her dear."
"Well, here they are at any rate," said Haggard; "she pawned them forseven thousand francs, and I redeemed them after a lot of bother. Andthat's all that remains. She had spent or gambled away every farthing ofthe rest. I don't know whether I ought to tell you, Georgie," hecontinued in a softer tone.
"Tell me, Reginald, tell me what? Did you know?" and the light of lovecame back into Georgie Haggard's eyes, as she thought that perhaps hercareless heartless husband had, from a wish to shield her cousin'shonour, silently and deliberately allowed poor Lucy's bastard child tobe fathered upon him. But the light quickly faded, and the eyes weresuffused with tears, as her husband answered coarsely:
"Did I know what? I know this--she poisoned herself, there's not a doubtof that."
And then, without the slightest attempt to soften the ghastly details,he brutally told his wife the particulars of her cousin's end.
"They manage these things much better there than here," he said. "TwelveTom Fools are not called upon to sit in one's dining room and give theiropinion. The Commissary of Police had the whole matter cut and dried. Isaw the official doctor too--a hungry fellow that. Of course I had tobribe the pair of them. Lucy Warrender poisoned herself, Georgie. Shedid it artfully enough, with chloral. Why, they showed me the bottle;she had swallowed enough to kill half-a-dozen women. What a fool shewas, when one comes to think of it! Why, she could have married well anynumber of times, if she'd liked; she could have had Spunyarn years andyears ago, if she had chosen to lift her finger. What a fool she was!"
Yes, that was her epitaph: "What a fool she was!" You couldn't have putit more tersely and more truly, Reginald Haggard. What a thoughtlesswicked fool she had been; she had wrecked her own life and her cousin'sby her wicked folly. "What a fool she was!"
I verily believe that if Haggard had shown one spark of feeling in thematter of poor Lucy's death, his wife would have spoken, after a silenceof twenty years; but his last words had checked the impulse, and Georgiemerely nodded, while the tears rolled down her cheeks, as she silentlyaccepted the justice of her husband's verdict.
As she sat and pondered over her cousin's sorry ending, she felt thatthe least she could do for the dead girl was still to jealously guardher miserable secret.
While the elders were talking, the two young men were walking in thegreat avenue that for nearly half a mile runs from the principalentrance of the park to the big hall door of Walls End Castle. Luciushad much to tell; he was full of the journey, and he went over all thedetails of the funeral to the younger man.
"Battling good place, that Hotel de Russie; they gave us an uncommonlygood dinner, and ortolans. I didn't think much of them, but the governorwas very enthusiastic, and ordered them again for breakfast. By Jove!George," continued the young fellow, "he's so fond of them that Ibelieve if mother, or even I, were to die to-morrow, the governor wouldorder ortolans for breakfast if he could get them. I say, George," headded, "I'm in funds, and I don't mind doing the generous thing, if youlike. I know you're hard up--beastly hard up--you always are. I'll makeyou a present of a pony, George."
Young George Haggard smiled, and took the five-and-twenty pounds, incrisp bank notes, which his father's heir produced from his waistcoatpocket. "I'll take it as a loan, Lucius," he said with a little laugh,"to be repaid when I become Lord Chancellor."
"All right, my boy," said the other. "Now if you can keep a secret, I'lltell you how I got it." And then he went off into a long description ofthe great Temple of Fortune on the shores of the Mediterranean. How hehad retired early, on the plea of fatigue; how he had escapedundiscovered to the Rooms; how he had backed his luck and won his money."Eighty pounds wasn't bad for a first attempt, you know," he said. "Isaw old Pepper," he continued, "in the thick of it; but I had to keepdark, you know, for I shouldn't have cared for the old boy to see methere."
George still held his brother's welcome present in his hand, and the boytwisted the notes nervously in his fingers. He hesitated, but not forlong.
"Don't be offended, Lucius," he said; "I think I'd rather not take it,if you don't mind."
"As you please, my boy," said the other, holding out his hand willinglyenough. "As they say in the schools, _Non olet_."
"It does to me, Lucius--it does to me."
The young men continued their walk up and down the great aisle of oldbeech trees, and Lucius returned to his ecstatic description of thescene in the Halls of Dazzling Delight; but I don't think the otheryoung fellow heard him, for he was thinking of the dead woman who wassleeping in her lonely grave.
Lucky Lucy! dead a week, and you have two human beings who still mournyour loss.
"I always thought you were a fool, George; but you really are a biggerfool than even I ever took you to be. I actually hand youfive-and-twenty pounds, which you decline with thanks. I don'tunderstand you, George. You neglect your opportunities. Why don't youmake up to the old man, or cultivate a taste for art, as I do; I mean tomake art pay, my boy."
"Well, you see, Lucius, it might be awkward if his lordship found meout. I'm afraid I find more pleasure in walking up and down this bigavenue and staring up at the rooks, than in spending my time in the PitTown galleries."
"Oh! I see; Child of Nature, and all that sort of thing. Why don't yougo in for being a poet, George? It's the only real business that I knowof suited for a thorough-paced fool, though
as a rule it don't pay."
"Simply because I'm not a humbug, my boy."
"You might do a good deal with a rhyming dictionary, you know;particularly if you let your hair grow."
"I don't think there's much poetry about me, Lucius. I like the air, andthe light, and the green leaves, and those black chaps who hop aboutfrom branch to branch, and who look like a lot of disreputable parsons,all preaching at once about nothing at all."
"Oh, I see, you admire the beauties of nature. Now I look upon this oldavenue from quite another standpoint. Sooner or later it'll be mine, andall the rest of the pomps and vanities too, I suppose--the plate and thepictures, and the title, George. Yes, there's something in a title. Butthey're a precious long while coming."
"Don't be a brute, Lucius," was all his brother replied.
While the two young fellows carelessly talked and smoked in the greatavenue, old Lord Pit Town sat in his study and held a momentousconversation with Georgie's husband. Reginald Haggard stood before thefire looking exceedingly uncomfortable.
"I wish you'd be candid with me, Haggard. Was there any informalityabout your marriage with Georgina?"
"Good gracious, no. What makes your lordship hint at such a thing?"
"That I will explain to you directly. In the meantime answer mehonestly; don't forget that as the head of the family I stand in theposition of a father to you. Anything you may say to me will of coursebe between ourselves. Can you assure me, as between gentlemen, that youmade no previous marriage? Was there any such entanglement in America?"
"It seems to me that your lordship is asking me to say that I am anunmitigated villain. Still, to satisfy you as the head of the family, Igive you my word that nothing of the sort ever occurred. Of course likemost young fellows I have made a fool of myself with dozens of women,or rather perhaps they made a fool of me. I sighed and dangled, perhapsI even hinted at marriage. Doubtless I was a young idiot, like mostyoung fellows of my age, but my peculiar form of idiotcy never developeditself in a matrimonial direction."
"I'm uncommonly glad to hear it, Reginald, for I have been uncomfortablefor a day or two, and now that my mind is at rest, you shall see whatcaused my apparently indiscreet questions."
The old lord opened a despatch-box which lay upon his writing-table, andtaking from it a letter, handed the document to his heir. Haggard seatedhimself, opened the letter, and read it carefully through. It was astrangely written manuscript on ordinary thick note-paper. If the writerhad intended to prevent any attempt at identification, he had thoroughlysucceeded. The precaution he had taken was simple, but sufficientlyingenious. Your ordinary anonymous letter writer is content to slope hiswriting the wrong way, or if very acute he uses his left hand; but theexpert, if placed upon his trail, generally succeeds in detecting somepeculiarity sufficient to identify him. The writer of the letter whichLord Pit Town handed to Haggard was evidently a man of originality, forthe letter and its address were not written in a running hand, but incarelessly printed Roman capitals.
As Haggard perused the letter his brow grew black as night, but when hehad ended it, he tossed it with a contemptuous laugh upon the table.
Here is the letter _verbatim_:
"MY LORD,
"I ADDRESS YOU TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I AM POSSESSED OF INFORMATION WHICH WILL ENABLE ME, SHOULD I FEEL SO DISPOSED, TO ENTIRELY ALTER THE SUCCESSION TO YOUR TITLE AND TO UPSET ANY DISTRIBUTION OF YOUR PROPERTY THAT YOU MAY MAKE. I AM PREPARED TO SELL TO YOU THE INFORMATION FOR THE SUM OF L5000. I MAKE YOUR LORDSHIP THE FIRST OFFER, SIMPLY BECAUSE I THINK THAT YOU WILL AT ONCE SEE THE WISDOM OF ACCEPTING IT. SHOULD YOU DECIDE NOT TO DO SO, I SHALL STILL GET MY PRICE, THOUGH I MAY HAVE TO WAIT TILL YOUR LORDSHIP'S DEATH. LITIGATION WILL, OF COURSE, ENSUE, AND A DISGRACEFUL SCANDAL WILL BECOME COMMON PROPERTY. SHOULD YOUR LORDSHIP FEEL DISPOSED TO LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO TELL, A LINE ADDRESSED TO 193B, BROWN'S NEWS ROOMS, CHEAPSIDE, WILL BE SUFFICIENT. THE FACT OF MY NOT ASKING FOR PAYMENT FOR MY INFORMATION UNTIL I HAVE GIVEN IT SHOULD BE TO YOUR LORDSHIP A SUFFICIENT GUARANTEE OF ITS GENUINENESS."
"What can the fellow mean?" said the old lord. "Can Hetton havecontracted a secret marriage?"
Haggard shook his head. "It's probably a mere vulgar trick to obtainmoney," said he. "Shall you see the fellow?"
"It would, perhaps, be better that you saw him, Reginald; you are asmuch concerned as I am, nay more so. Make an appointment to see the manin town. I will write to him, and if the secret he alludes to be genuineit is cheap at the money, if it were only to prevent expensivelitigation and the worse horror that he hints at--the dragging of ourname through the mire."
So it was arranged. A letter was dispatched to 193 B, making anappointment for the astute writer of the letter to see Mr. ReginaldHaggard upon a certain day at the old lord's house in Grosvenor Square.Reginald Haggard sat for a whole hour waiting in vain. Nobody came tohim with a mysterious communication, and at the end of a week both heand the old lord had dismissed the matter from their minds as animpudent and stupid hoax.
To the mind of the shrewd reader the name of the writer of the anonymousletter is no mystery. Mr. Maurice Capt had been seriously disappointedwhen, for the first time in his life, one of his applications to LucyWarrender had been unsuccessful. But Lucy Warrender was now beyond hisreach. Capt felt aggrieved; he considered that his demands upon MissWarrender had been excessively moderate, and he felt a sort of pride inthe fact that he had kept her secret so long and so cheaply. But nowLucy Warrender was dead, and the contract between Capt and the lady atan end. Mr. Capt, when he wrote his rather ambiguous anonymouscommunication to the old lord, had thought the matter well out; he hadmade up his mind not to reveal the nature of what he had to tell untilhe had the old lord's promise to let him have the sum he demanded. ForMr. Capt well knew that it is possible to provide even againstextraordinary contingencies; he knew that there were such things asfamily treaties, and he knew that his threat, if he could only get LordPit Town to believe in its genuineness, would be only terrible to theold man by its rendering him practically incapable of disposing of hisproperty, and leaving the very succession to his title in doubt. Mr.Capt was sharp enough to know that if once he had the old lord'spromise, the five thousand pounds was as good as paid. But Mr. Capt hada holy horror of two things. The one, which he dreaded with a naturalterror of the unknown, was the criminal law of England; the other was adesperate fear of the wrath of big Reginald Haggard. For once his masterhad lost his temper with the valet. It was nearly twenty years ago nowsince Reginald Haggard, in a moment of indignation, had literallythrashed Mr. Capt within an inch of his life, and though it was twentyyears ago Mr. Capt's bones still ached with the remembrance of thattremendous beating. So that the suggested interview with Haggardentirely upset all the valet's well-arranged plans. Could he but havehad a private conversation with the old lord, and the required promise,he felt that he would have proved his case up to the hilt, and thus haveobtained what he looked upon as the honest reward of his long silence.But though a clever man, Mr. Capt was a coward, and he feared to facethe fury of Lord Pit Town's heir.
The valet repeatedly turned the matter over in his mind, and found it avery complicated question. Of course, the one person in the world towhom the secret was most valuable was young George Haggard. The factshad but to be published to the world and George would jump at once fromthe precarious position of a younger son into that of the direct heir toan earldom and the property of a man of enormous wealth, while as forLucius, he would become but the nameless byblow of old Warrender'sniece. But there were several disturbing influences to Mr. Capt'scalculations. To neither of the young men could he sell his secret formoney down. This was a very serious consideration indeed. As for George,he might decline to do business at all, from loyalty to his mother;while as for Lucius, Mr. Capt well knew that it was impossible to trusthim. The valet at length determined that he would sound young GeorgeHaggard upon the matter, and having made up his mind, proceeded to do
soat the first opportunity.
Mr. Capt had not long to wait, for he encountered the young fellow inone of his solitary rambles in the park, and seeing that they weresecure from interruption, plunged at once _in medias res_.
Young George Haggard was seated upon a stile meditatively gazing uponthe landscape, when he was roused by a slight cough behind him, whichproceeded from his father's discreet body servant.
"Halloa! Capt," said the youth good-naturedly; "enjoying the beauties ofnature?"
"Yes, Mr. George; one can't well help it in such a lovely place asthis."
"I suppose ordinary people like you and I, Capt, don't appreciate it aswe ought. That, as my brother tells me, requires culture. He woulddoubtless see more in it than we do, being a man of culture, as he is,you know."
"Perhaps the old place, sir, may look all the pleasanter to him, for inthe ordinary course of things, you see, sir, he must come into it someday or other. That must be a very pleasant thought, sir," added thevalet after a pause.
"Well, I'm not so sure about that, you know; there are lots ofresponsibilities, you see," and the young man proceeded to fill his pipephilosophically.
"You may come into it yourself, sir, one of these days, who knows?" saidthe valet in a carneying tone.
Young George Haggard started, and stared at Mr. Capt, who seemed to himto have slightly forgotten himself.
"Stranger things than that have happened, sir," continued the Swiss.
"Well, you see, my man, as my father and Mr. Lucius--to say nothing ofhis lordship--would both have to go to the wall first, it doesn't seem alikely contingency. And do you know I don't think it's quite the thingto talk about, Capt."
But the valet was not to be put down.
"Anyhow, it's a great position for so young a gentleman as Mr. Lucius,"insisted the man. "Many a man has sold his soul for less than that," hecontinued, as he gazed admiringly at the Castle, which occupied thecentre of the peacefully romantic landscape.
Young George Haggard stared at the valet in undisguised astonishment."Fellow's been drinking," he thought; "he seems strangely impertinent,that accounts for it."
"Ah, they manage things differently, sir, in my country. It's share andshare alike there. My father, sir, had seven sons, and we each of ustook an equal share of his little bit of land as a matter of right."
"Well, perhaps, Capt, that's what they'll do here when England becomes arepublic. But I don't think that it'll happen in my time, and I don'tthink I could persuade Lucius to go halves with me."
Seeing that the young man was disinclined to continue the conversation,the valet touched his hat respectfully and took himself off.
It is a highly respectable thing to be a landowner; the freeholder hasmany advantages, but getting rid of the property, particularly in thepresent day, is as a rule both difficult and expensive. Mr. Capt waslike the proprietor of an Irish estate; far from being able to disposeof it at a reasonable figure, he was unable to obtain even an offer forhis secret, and it was a valuable secret; but then, though a whiteelephant is a valuable animal, it is not an investment that most peoplewould care to hold, and Mr. Capt's property now seemed indeed but awhite elephant. Had it not been for his holy fear of his master he mighthave attempted to make terms with Mrs. Haggard, but his terror of LordPit Town's heir was extreme and had become a second nature to him.
The love of home is specially developed among the honest and economicalinhabitants of Switzerland; like the Scotchmen they quit their dearnative land young, in the hope of making their fortunes; but unlike theScots they inevitably return to the Fatherland with the results of alife of industry, and this was the dream of Mr. Capt's life. Like a wiseman, finding he could not get a cash purchaser, he determined, thoughvery much against his own inclination, to make a bargain with youngLucius Haggard at the earliest opportunity; but he knew that if hetrusted to the honour of Lucy Warrender's son he would be leaning upon abroken reed, and he walked back to the discharge of his duties at theCastle in a state of considerable depression.