By Conduct and Courage Part 45

"And what has become of your father, supposing him to be your father?" he asked with an evident effort.

"He died, sir, nearly twenty years ago."

The old man was silent for some little time, and then he said: "And you, sir, what have you been doing since then? But first, in what circ.u.mstances did he die?"

"In the very poorest. For the last two years of his life he earned his living and mine as a wandering fiddler."

"And what became of you?"

"I was brought up, sir, by a fisherman in the village in Yorkshire in which my father died."

"Your manner of speech does not at all agree with that, sir," the old man said sharply.

"No, sir," Will said quietly. "I had the good fortune to attract the interest of the clergyman's daughter, and she was good enough to a.s.sist me in my education and urge me on to study."

"And what is your trade or profession, sir?"

"I have the honour, sir, to be post-captain in His Majesty's navy."

"You a post-captain in His Majesty's navy!" the old man said scornfully.

"Do you think to take me in with such a tale as that? You might possibly be a very junior lieutenant."

"I am not surprised that you think so, sir. Nevertheless I am indeed what I say. My name appeared in the _Gazette_ a month ago."

"I remember now," the baronet said, "there was a William Gilmore appointed to that rank. The name struck me as I glanced through the _Gazette_. I had noticed it before on several occasions, and I sighed as I thought to myself how different must have been his career from that of my unfortunate son. Now, sir, I beg that you will let me see your proofs."

"In the first place, sir, there is this seal with your armorial bearings, which was found upon him after his death. This is a looking-gla.s.s, one which I believe was given to him by his mother. This is the violin with which he earned his living."

The old man stretched his hand out for the violin, with tears in his eyes.

"I gave it to him," he said, "when he was eighteen. I thought it a great piece of extravagance at the time, but he had such a taste for music that I thought he deserved the best instrument I could get. The looking-gla.s.s I also recognize, and of course the seal. Is there anything more, sir?"

"This, sir, is the certificate of my baptism at St. Matthew's Church, Westminster. This is a statement of my lawyer's clerk, who interviewed the woman in whose house my father and mother lived, and my mother died."

The baronet took it and read it in silence.

"I can produce also," Will went on, as the old man laid it down with a sigh, "the evidence of the lady who educated me, and to whom I owe all the good fortune that has befallen me. The old fisherman and his wife who brought me up are still alive, though very old. I have means of obtaining abundant evidence from my shipmates in the various vessels in which I have sailed that I am the boy who left that village at the age of fifteen, and entered as a ship's boy in one of His Majesty's vessels."

"And you are now-?" the baronet asked.

"I am now twenty-three, sir."

"And a captain?"

"That is so, sir. I was made a midshipman before I had been three months on board, partly because I saved the first lieutenant's life, and partly because I understood enough mathematics to take an observation. Of course I served my time as a midshipman, and a year after pa.s.sing I was made a second lieutenant. By the death of my first lieutenant at the battle of St. Vincent I succeeded to his post, and obtained the rank of captain for my share in the battle of Camperdown. I received post rank the other day when, in command of the _Ethalion_, I brought the _Bellone_, a frigate of Admiral Bompart's fleet, a prize to Portsmouth."

"Well, sir, your career has indeed been creditable and successful, and I am proud to acknowledge, as my grandson and heir to my t.i.tle, a young gentleman who has so greatly distinguished himself. For I do acknowledge you. The proofs you have given me leave no doubt in my mind whatever that you are the son of my second son. You were, of course, too young to remember whether he ever spoke to you of me."

"Yes, sir. I was but five at the time of his death, and have but a very faint recollection of him."

"Of course, of course," the baronet said; "it was a sad affair. Perhaps I was to blame to some extent, though I have never thought so. Your father was, as doubtless you know, a second son. Although somewhat eccentric in disposition, and given to fits of pa.s.sion, I had no serious occasion to complain of him until he went up to Oxford. There he got into a wild and dissipated set, and became the wildest and most dissipated among them. His great talent for music was his bane. He was continually asked out. After being two years up there, and costing me very large sums in paying his debts, he was sent down from the university. He would not turn his hands to anything, and went up to London with the idea of making his way somehow. He made nothing but debts, got into various scandalous affairs, and dragged our name through the dust. At last he came home one day and calmly informed me that he had married a woman in a rank of life beneath him. She was, I believe, the daughter of a horse-dealer of very doubtful character. He also said that he wanted 1200 to enable him to start fair.

I lost my temper and said that he should not have another pound from me.

We had a desperate quarrel, and he left the house, taking with him all his belongings. It was four years before I took any steps to bring him back.

Then his elder brother died, and on that I took every means to find him out. That he would ever be a credit to me I did not even dare to hope, but at least he could not be allowed to live in poverty. I advertised widely and employed detectives for months, but all without result. I have long since given up any hopes of ever seeing him again. I am glad, indeed, to find that the t.i.tle, at my death, will not go to a distant cousin, but to my grandson, a gentleman in every way worthy of it. You are not married, I hope?"

"I am not married, sir; but I think, if you had asked the question, I should have replied that I was engaged, or rather had hopes of being engaged soon."

"Who is she?" the baronet asked quickly.

"She is the only daughter of a successful West Indian planter, a man of the highest standing in the colony, who has now returned and settled here."

The baronet heaved a sigh of relief.

"That is well," he said; "and considering that you have been all your life at sea, and have had no opportunity of making the acquaintance of ladies of t.i.tled families, it is better than I could have expected. As I do not know the procedure in these matters I had better consult my lawyer as to the best way of using these relics and the proofs you have given me that you are my grandson. It may be that my recognition of you is sufficient, but it would be as well to make sure that at my death there will be no opposition to your succession. You will stop here for a day or two, I hope, before going up to town to arrange the little affair you spoke of, and I think if your chances were good before, they will be still better now that you are recognized as heir to a baronetcy and one of the finest estates in England."

"I have never thought of that, sir. I have my profession and nearly 40,000 of prize-money, which will enable us to live in great comfort; and indeed I antic.i.p.ate that her father will wish us to reside with him, or, at any rate, that she shall do so while I am away on service."

"I hope you will not think of remaining at sea. It would be monstrous for a man heir to 10,000 a year, besides very large acc.u.mulations, to be knocking about the world and running the risk of having his head taken off with a round-shot every day. I earnestly entreat you not to dream of such a thing."

"I will think it over. I am fond of the sea, but shall certainly be fonder of my wife, and I feel that your wishes in the matter should weigh with me."

"Well, I hope you will at least spend a portion of your time here. It will be your future home, and it is well that you should acquaint yourself with your duties. Besides, remember the years that I have been a lonely man."

"I would rather not give a promise, but I shall certainly take your wishes into consideration."

"Well, I am content with that, my boy. You will stay here now a few days, I hope. I have so much to hear of your life, and of course I wish to become better acquainted with you."

Will remained a week, during which time he made a great advance in the baronet's affections, and the old man seemed to gain some years of life as he walked in the garden and drove through the country with his young heir, whom he was delighted to introduce to everyone.

When he returned to London he at once drove over to Dulwich.

"Well, Will, what is the result of it all?" Mr. Palethorpe asked, for Will had purposely abstained from going to their house after his last interview with his lawyer. "Alice has been imagining all sorts of things: that you had been run over, or had run away with some girl."

"Father! I never thought that for a moment," his daughter said indignantly, "though I have been very anxious, for it is nearly a fortnight since he was here."

"I have done a good deal in the time," Will said. "I did not write to you, because I wanted to tell you. I am acknowledged as the grandson and heir to the t.i.tle and estates of Sir Ralph Gilmore."

Both gave an exclamation of pleasure.

"And now," he said, taking her hand, "I only need one thing to complete my happiness, and that is, that you will share my good fortune with me. May I hope that it will be so?"

"Certainly you may, Will. I think I have loved you ever since I was a little girl, and acknowledge that my princ.i.p.al reason for inducing father to come to live in England was that I believed I should have more chance of meeting you again here than in Jamaica."

"I am heartily glad, too, that it is all settled," Mr. Palethorpe said. "I have seen it coming on ever since you met us the first time in London, and I may say that I have seen it with pleasure, for there is no one to whom I would sooner trust her happiness than you. Now I will leave you to yourselves."

It need hardly be said that Alice was as anxious as Sir Ralph Gilmore that Will should quit the navy, and he consequently yielded to their entreaties. He wrote to his grandfather to tell him of his engagement, and the baronet wrote back by return of post to Mr. Palethorpe, begging him to come down with his daughter and Will for a time.

"I only half know him at present," he said, "and as I understand that just at present he will not want to leave the young lady of his choice, you will gladden an old man if you will all three come down to stay with me."