CHAPTER XXIII.
THE TABLES TURNED.
As Maurice Walton left the Burnet House, he fell in with the one whomhe most wished to avoid. Gilbert was returning to the store, after hisusual midday lunch. He was surprised to see Maurice, supposing him athome, suffering from the headache.
"How do you happen to be here, Maurice?" he asked. "I thought you wereat home."
"My head felt so bad that I thought I would come out into the freshair," answered Maurice, a little confused.
"Do you feel better?"
"A little. I think I'll go home and go to bed."
"I hope you'll be all right to-morrow."
"I guess so."
So they separated, Gilbert, who was not inclined to be suspicious, notdoubting his fellow-clerk's statements.
That evening, when he returned to his boarding-house, the servant said:
"Did your friend find the opera-glass?"
"What?" said Gilbert.
"Shure a friend of yours called, and said you had sent him to borrowyour opera-glass."
"I sent nobody. Who was it? What did he look like?"
"He was about your size, shure, and had a black _mustash_."
"I don't know who it can be. Did he go up into my room?"
"Yes, he did. He said he knew the way."
"I can't think who it was."
Gilbert went up stairs, and, to increase the mystery, there was hisopera-glass on the bureau, where he usually kept it. It was directly insight, so that the visitor must have seen it.
"I can't understand it," he said, perplexed. "Mordaunt, do you know ofany friend of mine who has a black mustache?"
"Frank Oswald."
"He is considerably larger than I am. The servant said it was some oneof my size."
"I can't think of anybody else."
"I don't see why he didn't take the opera-glass, if he wanted it,though it would have been rather bold, as I didn't authorize anybody totake it."
As there seemed no clew to the mystery, and as, moreover, Gilbert hadno suspicion that the visitor was on an unlawful errand, he dismissedit from his mind.
Two days afterward, Gilbert met his uncle in the street. As the weekwas not up, he was about to pass him with a bow, when Mr. Grey paused,and appeared inclined to speak.
"Young man," he said, "can you call on me this evening?"
"Yes, sir."
"I shall leave the city to-morrow, and, though it is of no consequenceto me, I suppose you would like to know my decision in regard to thematter you broached the other day."
"I will call," said Gilbert, bowing.
"He looks as if he were going to defy me," thought our hero. "Well, Iam ready for him."
In the evening he called, and was shown up to his uncle's room.
"Good-evening, Mr. Grey," he said, politely.
"Good-evening, young sir," said the other. "You did me the honor, theother day, of claiming relationship with me?"
"I did."
"Knowing that your claim had no foundation, but was only an impudentfabrication, instigated by cupidity----"
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Gilbert, quietly, "but that statement Ideny most positively. I have not the slightest doubt that thatrelationship exists; neither has Mr. Ferguson."
"You have succeeded in duping Mr. Ferguson. You will find it a hardertask to dupe me. If you knew me better, you would have hesitated beforeyou attempted to humbug me in that barefaced way."
"If you knew me better, Uncle James----"
"I am not your Uncle James."
"Mr. Grey, then. If you knew me better, Mr. Grey, you would know that Iam not capable of making a false claim."
"Oh! no doubt you are very honest--the soul of integrity," sneeredJames Grey; "but every one has his price, and, as the success of yourimposture would make you rich for life, you concluded to leave honestyout of the question."
James Grey might at once have referred to his possession of the paper,but he could not forbear playing with Gilbert, as a cat with a mouse,enjoying meanwhile the power which he possessed of crushing his claimsby a single statement.
"Your charge is entirely unjust," said Gilbert, quietly. "I shallappreciate the money to which I am rightfully entitled, to be sure; butI want to settle my claim, also, to my father's name, of which I was solong ignorant."
"If you choose to call yourself Grey, or Green, or Brown, there is nolaw to prevent you, I suppose," said Mr. Grey, sarcastically; "but whenyou, a street bootblack, try to force your way into a respectablefamily, there is considerable to be said."
"I am not ashamed of having been a bootblack," said our hero, calmly."I was earning an honest living, though an humble one; and I was notliving upon what belonged to another."
"Do you mean me?" interrupted his uncle, angrily.
"You must decide whether you are meant, Mr. Grey."
"Suppose now I decline to consider seriously this very impudent claimof yours, what are you going to do about it?"
"I shall take legal advice."
"How do you expect to pay a lawyer?"
"I shall try to manage it."
"No lawyer will undertake such a discreditable case."
"I happen to be acquainted with one lawyer that will. In fact, I havementioned the matter to him, and I am acting by his advice now."
"Does he tell you that you have a good case?"
"He does."
"What does he say is the strongest part of it?"
"The statement of Jacob Morton."
"Do you happen to have it with you?"
"No, sir. After the experience of my last call, I prefer not to bringit."
"You can't produce it," said James Grey, triumphantly.
"Why not?"
"Because you have no such document."
"You are mistaken there."
"I have the strongest reason for saying that this forged document, onwhich you so much rely, is no longer in your possession."
"I should like to know your reason," said Gilbert, struck by hisuncle's significant manner.
"Then I will tell you. It is not in your possession, because _it isin mine_!"
"What do you mean, sir?" asked Gilbert, somewhat startled.
"Just what I say. I have obtained possession of the paper which you soartfully concocted, and pretended to be the dying statement of JacobMorton."
"What, did Mr. Ferguson give it to you?" asked Gilbert, amazed.
"Mr. Ferguson? What had he to do with it?"
"It is in his safe. I deposited it there, the morning after myinterview with you."
"That is a lie!" exclaimed Mr. Grey, in excitement. "You placed it inyour trunk."
"Oh!" said Gilbert, as light dawned upon him, "I understand you, now.Before carrying it to Mr. Ferguson, I made a copy for reference,thinking, also, that you might want to look at it again. _That copy_ Ileft in my trunk; but the original is in Mr. Ferguson's safe."
"I don't believe you," said James Grey, furiously.
"It is perfectly true. I suppose that the young man who I hear calledat my room one day in my absence, was your agent, and that he stole thepaper."
"Out of my room, you scoundrel!" roared James Grey, whosedisappointment was in proportion to his former exultation. "I defyyou!"
Gilbert saw that it would be of no use to prolong the discussion. Hebowed quietly, and left the room.