Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker Part 56

"No;" I said, "it seems there are other questions, such as the mention of the matter in letters. If the succeeding brothers in letters or otherwise from time to time acknowledged the rights of Hugh Wynne, that might serve to keep alive the claim; if, too, it can be proved that at any time they paid over to Hugh or his son, your brother, madam, rents or dues, as belonging to these American claimants, this too would serve to give some validity to your present claim. It is a question of dates, letters, and of your possession of evidence in the direction of repeated admissions on the part of the Welsh holders."

My Aunt Gainor was at once confident. Search should be made. She had some remembrance in her childhood of this and that. In fact, my aunt never admitted the existence of obstacles, and commonly refused to see them. Mr. Wilson shook his head dubiously. "There seems to have been negligence or a quite culpable indifference, madam. The time to be covered by admissions is long, and the statutes of 32 Henry VIII. and 21 James I., 1623, do, I fear, settle the matter. The lapse in the continuity of evidence will be found after the death of Hugh. Twenty years will suffice, and I am forced to admit that your claim seems to me of small value. It was simply an estate given away, owing to want of the simplest legal advice."

"Wait until I look through our papers," said my aunt. "We are not done with it yet, nor shall be, if I have my way, until the courts have had a chance to decide."

"It will be mere waste of money, my dear lady. Now, at least, you can do nothing. The war is not over, and when it is, none but an English court can settle the t.i.tle. I confess it seems to be a case for amicable compromise."

"There shall be none--none," said my aunt.

"And we are just where we began," said I.

"Not quite," he returned. "You may have a case, but it seems to me a weak one, and may lie in chancery a man's lifetime. I, as a friend as well as a lawyer, knowing you have no need of the estate, hesitate to advise you to engage in a suit of ejectment. I should rather counsel--ah, that may be Mr. Wynne."

It was a clamorous knock at the hall door, which caused Mr. Wilson to cut short his advice with the statement that it would need longer discussion, and that this must be the other party.

It was, in fact, my cousin, who was set down in a chair, as I saw by a glance through the window. When Jack and I had seen him at his inn he had been a little in liquor, and wore a sort of long chintz bedgown wrapper, with his waistcoat b.u.t.toned awry--not a very nice figure. He was now Arthur Wynne at his best. He stood a moment in the doorway, as beautiful a piece of manhood as ever did the devil's work. His taste in all matters of dress and outer conduct was beyond dispute, and for this family meeting he had apparently made ready with unusual care. Indeed this, my last remembrance of Arthur Wynne, is of a figure so striking that I cannot resist to say just how he looked. His raiment was costly enough to have satisfied Polonius; if it bore any relation to his purse, I know not. It was not "expressed in fancy," as was that of the macaroni dandy of those early days. He knew better. As he stood he carried in his left hand a dark beaver edged with gold lace. His wig was small, and with side rolls well powdered, the queue tied with a lace-bordered red ribbon. In front a full Mechlin lace jabot, with the white wig above, set his regular features and dark skin in a frame, as it were, his paleness and a look of melancholy in the eyes helping the natural beauty and distinction of a face high bred and haughty. The white silk flowered waistcoat, the bunch of gold seals below it, the claret-tinted velvet coat and breeches, the black silk clocked hose with gold buckles at ankle and knee, and a silver-hilted dress-sword in a green s.h.a.green sheath, complete my picture. I wish you to see him as I saw him, that in a measure you may comprehend why his mere personal charms were such as to attract and captivate women.

He came forward with his right hand on his heart and bowed to my aunt, who swept him a s.p.a.ce-filling curtsey, as he said quite pleasantly, "Good-afternoon, Cousin Gainor; your servant, Mr. Wilson." To me he bent slightly, but gave no other greeting. It was all easy, tranquil, and without sign of embarra.s.sment, As he spoke he moved toward the table, on which Mr. Wilson had laid his papers and bag. Now, as always, a certain deliberate feline grace was in all his movements.

"For a truth, he is a beauty," said my Aunt Gainor after our meeting was over. "And well-proportioned, but no bit of him Wynne. He has not our build." Nor had he.

"Pray be seated," said my aunt. "I have asked my friend and counsel, Mr.

James Wilson, to be present, that he may impartially set before you a family matter, in which your father may have interest. My nephew, Hugh Wynne, is here at my earnest solicitation. I regret that Mr. Chew is unable, by reason of engagements, to do me a like favour. Mr. Wilson will have the kindness to set before you the nature of the case."

Mistress Wynne, sitting straight and tall in a high cap, spoke with dignified calmness.

"At your service, madam," said the lawyer, looking Arthur over with the quick glance of a ready observer. Before he could go on to do as he was bidden I found my chance to say, "You will be so good, Mr. Wilson, as to state Mr. Owen Wynne's case, as well as our own, with entire frankness; we have no desire to wrong any, and least of all one of our blood."

"I think I understand you fully," said Wilson. "A deed has been put in the hands of Mr. Attorney-General Chew and myself, and as to its value and present validity an opinion has been asked by Mistress Wynne and her nephew."

"Pardon me," said Arthur; "is not my Cousin John the proper person to consider this question?"

"a.s.suredly," returned Mr. Wilson, "if his state of mind permitted either his presence or an opinion. No interests will be affected by his absence, nor can we do more than acquaint those who are now here with what, as lawyers, we think."

"I see," said Arthur. "Pray go on."

"This deed seems to convey to my client's grandfather--that is to say, Mistress Wynne's father--certain lands situate in Merionethshire, Wales.

I understand that you, sir, represent the present holder."

"I am," said Arthur, "the son of the gentleman now in possession of Wyncote, and have full permission to act for him. If, indeed, you desire further to learn on what authority--"

"Not at all, not at all," interposed Wilson. "Your presence suffices; no more is needed. This meeting commits no one."

"I was about to ask the date of this doc.u.ment," said Arthur.

"Certainly; here it is." And so saying the lawyer spread the deed out on the table. "It is a conveyance from William Wynne to Hugh of that name; the date, 1671, October 9; the witnesses are Henry Owen and Thomas ap Roberts. It is voluminous. Do you desire to hear it?"

"No; oh no! What next?"

"We believe," continued the lawyer, "that this deed has ceased to have effect, owing to lapse of time and the appearance--pray note my words--the _appearance_ of undisputed ownership by the younger branch.

Neither is there any trust to hold the estate for Hugh; it is a mere conveyance."

"There can be, of course, no doubt," returned Arthur--"I mean as to a century of unquestioned possession."

"I am not secure as to the point you make," said Mr. Wilson, courteously. "I cannot now decide. I am asked to state the matter impartially. My clients wish justice done to all, and will take no unfair advantage. It may be you have no case. There may have pa.s.sed frequent letters on both sides, admitting the claim or rea.s.serting it, and thus keeping it alive. Rents may have been paid. Facts like these may open questions as to the length of undisputed holding. Only your own courts can decide it, and that with all the evidence before them."

"I am obliged by your frankness," said my cousin. "I had hoped to see the matter fully settled."

"That will never be," said my aunt, "until I have carried it through every court in England."

"As you please," replied Arthur.

"Mr. Wynne," said I, "while my father lives we shall do nothing; nor even afterward, perhaps. I do not want the money, nor the old home. What is done may depend much on your own actions, sir." I had no desire to lose this hold on him. As I spoke I saw him look up astonished, as was also, I thought, the lawyer, who knew nothing of our quarrels.

"If," said I, "you had come to us frankly at first, and stated why you came, we should have said what I now say. No, I should have said far more. I believe this ends the matter for the present." My aunt lifted her hand, but I added, "I pray you let it rest here, aunt," and for a wonder she held her peace.

Arthur, too, seemed about to speak, but his worse or better angel, I know not which, prevailed, and quietly saluting us all, he rose and took his leave.

"We shall see when this war is over," said my aunt, taking the deed.

"Many thanks, Mr. Wilson; I should like to have your opinion in writing."

"I shall send it in a week or two. Mr. Arthur Wynne seems to have come over, as I judge from what he said, with authority to act for his father. Why he did not at once relate his errand I cannot see. Had you had no deed it would have closed the matter. If he found you had one he would have been only in the position he is now in to-day."

"I fancy he may have been fearful and over-cautious, not comprehending the nature of those he had to deal with," said I. "You must have known him as I do, Mr. Wilson, to understand his actions. I was sorry you did not let him tell us what powers he really had. I was curious."

"Yes, yes, I interrupted him. It was a mistake." And so saying he rose.

"It shall not rest here," said my aunt. "Something shall be done." And on this I too went away, declining further talk.

When Arthur came over to learn what he could as to their t.i.tle to Wyncote, he failed to see that we were people whom no prospect of gain could lead into the taking of an advantage. He thus lost the chance a little honest directness would have given him. When later my father threw in his way the opportunity of absolute security as to the t.i.tle, the temptation to get secretly from him a legal transfer, or--G.o.d knows--perhaps the power to destroy the deed, was too much for a morally weak and quite reckless nature. I was the sole obstacle, or I seemed to be. We loved the same woman; she had begun to doubt her English lover.

If I had died he had become a.s.sured, not only of the possession of Wyncote, but of being ultimately my father's heir.

Of this Jack writes: "Here was a whole brigade of temptations, and he could not stand it. He would have broken that tender heart I loved.

G.o.d help me! I think I should have killed him before he had the cruel chance."

If to the estate and other worldly baits was added the remembrance of the blow a mere boy gave, I do not know. It is certain that at last he hated me, and as sure that I had as little love for him.

x.x.x

Early in March of 1782 Jack and I concluded that the war was over, or was to be but a waiting game, as indeed it proved. After some thought over the matter we both resigned, and as it was desired to lessen the list of officers, we were promptly released from service.

On March 22 his Excellency rode away from town under escort of Captain Morris's troop of light horse. I went along as far as Burlington, being honoured when I left by the personal thanks of the general, and the kind wish that I might discover it to be convenient to visit him at Mount Vernon.

April was come, and we gladly turned again to the duties which awaited us both. His Excellency had gone to watch Sir Guy Carleton penned up in New York. Congress wrangled, our gay world ate and danced, and the tardy war fell to such slackness that it was plain to all a peace must soon come, although we were yet to see another winter pa.s.s before the obstinate Dutchman on the English throne gave up a lost game.