Major Frank Part 3

I stared at him in surprise and perplexity. Such a strange feeling came over me. I who have never possessed a stick or a stone in my life (in fact, I always felt it a relief when the quarter's lodging bill was paid), now I had to decide about a house in town and a country seat.

"I think, Mr. Van Beek, everything had better remain as it is until the question of my marriage with Miss Mordaunt is settled."

"The Jonker forgets that that condition is not binding."

"I look upon it as binding, though such may not be the legal interpretation of the will."

"Would you not like to see the house whilst you are in Utrecht? It is beautifully situated, and well worth a visit, I can a.s.sure you."

"No, thank you, sir; but I should like to see the house in which my aunt lived: from its surroundings I may be able to obtain a better idea of her character."

"Oh, with pleasure, Jonker! I thought I had already told you," began Van Beek, somewhat embarra.s.sed, "that the old lady had bequeathed it to me, on condition her maid should occupy it as long as she lives. It is a splendid legacy; that I do not deny. But consider, I have served her thirty years in all kinds of business, some of which cost me much trouble and loss of time. And I may remind you that there is no extra money set aside for my expenses as executor, whilst I am recommended to a.s.sist the heir in every way, and to serve him to the best of my ability by my counsel."

"My dear sir," I rejoined, "it was to be expected that aunt would treat you generously. It is not my intention to dispute any of her bequests. It will be a sort of pilgrimage for me."

"We will drive there at once after luncheon. It is only half an hour's distance from the town."

I must confess the interior of my aunt's dwelling did not enable me to gather any new ideas of the strange personage who once occupied it. The old waiting-woman received us with coolness, and chanted the praises of her late mistress in pious terms. The young cook shed a torrent of tears, and was evidently astonished not to see me do the same; whilst the man-servant eyed me askance, as if he feared I had come there to cut off his legacy. The house was furnished in a moderately comfortable style, most of the furniture being of the good solid sort common in the reign of King William I., though there had been an attempt to imitate the style of the First French Empire. There was only one sofa in the house, and one armchair a la Voltaire, in which Miss Roselaer reposed herself for just one hour after dinner every day. She must have been a clever, active woman up to the very last.

"She was always making up her accounts or writing," said her maid, "when she was not either reading or knitting."

"And what did she read?" I asked.

"Mostly 'unbelieving books'--those in the bookcase there; sometimes, but very seldom, the Bible."

The "unbelieving books" were French, German, and English cla.s.sics. I pointed out to Van Beek that I should like to possess this small but well-selected library. All the books are beautifully though not showily bound, and they bear marks of a.s.siduous reading. Among the "unbelieving books" are the works of Fenelon, Bossuet, and Pascal, peacefully a.s.sorted with those of Voltaire and the Encyclopaedists, whilst Lavater, Gellert, Lessing, and Klopstock find a place by the side of Goethe and Schiller, and the plays of Iffland and Kotzebue.

This was the first moment of unalloyed pleasure I have felt since I came into my fortune, when I once more cast my eyes over the library and beheld it with all the pride of ownership. I involuntarily put forth my hand to s.n.a.t.c.h up one of the volumes, as if I thereby wished to signify I was taking possession. Van Beek smiled and twinkled his cunning little eyes; but the maid, who was standing by, looked at me as though I had committed a sacrilege.

"I should rather have thought the Jonker would have preferred my lady's Bible," she said.

"I should certainly like the Bible as well as the other books, Mrs. Jones--that is to say, unless you wish to keep it yourself as a memento."

"Oh no, Jonker! such a worldly, new-fashioned book I would not have in my possession. I can't look upon it as G.o.d's word; and I could never understand how my lady found edification in it."

"What's the matter with the Bible?" I asked Van Beek as we left the house.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. It is an ordinary States-Bible, only not printed in the old-fashioned German type." [2]

Upon my word, I thought aunt must indeed have been pretty liberal-minded to have put up with so bigoted a servant for so many years.

The next day I set out for the small town of Zutphen, which is within an easy drive of the Castle de Werve.

CHAPTER VIII.

Castle de Werve, April, 1861.

You see, my dear William, I have entered the fortress.

But to resume my narrative. Van Beek gave me a letter of introduction to his friend Overberg, a lawyer in Zutphen, and I called upon this worthy man of the law as soon as I arrived in the town. This Overberg was the agent of my old Aunt Roselaer in these quarters, and it was through his good management of her affairs that she gradually obtained possession of Von Zwenken's property, as the General usually borrowed money of Overberg. After all, the General was more fortunate than if he had fallen into the hands of usurers, who, speculating on his weakness, would have ruined him in a much shorter time. Overberg had advised the General to accept the offer of his sister-in-law--with what result you already know. For this reason he recommended me, if I wished to obtain a kindly reception at the Castle, not to present myself there as the heir to Miss Roselaer's property; such an introduction being calculated to raise a prejudice against me from the first. Therefore I decided to present myself as a relation anxious to make the acquaintance of the family.

Seizing the opportunity, I began to question Overberg about Miss Mordaunt.

"I have only spoken to her once," he said; "the General always comes to see me in person. She is never seen in the town now. Once, indeed, whilst the General was still commandant of the garrison here, she came to consult me on a matter personal to herself, but that is a long time ago."

The good-natured lawyer, though ignorant of my matrimonial plans, doubtless read disappointment in my face, for he resumed, as if to excuse the meagreness of his information--

"You see, sir, the General then lived in grand style; and a wide distinction was also made in society between the military and the bourgeoisie. I was a widower, my time fully occupied, and I seldom went into society. Since my second marriage, however, we have parties and dinners enough--and that reminds me my wife has a soiree this evening; several young ladies who know Miss Mordaunt are invited. Will you spend the evening with us? You can leave tomorrow early for the Werve. I will introduce you to the company as a gentleman looking out for a villa in our neighbourhood; for as you know, in a small town like ours, it is necessary to give a reason for your appearance among us, otherwise one will be invented--and such inventions are not always of a flattering kind. I can easily give the conversation a turn so as to cause it to fall on the family Von Zwenken, and you need only keep your ears open."

This idea took my fancy; I accepted the invitation with pleasure, for a little society would help me to pa.s.s the evening more agreeably than I could spend it at my hotel.

We dined quietly en famille, and Overberg and his wife--hospitable, jovial people--seemed to me to belie the French verse--

"De pet.i.ts avocats, Qui se sont fait des sous, En rognant des ducats."

Mr. Overberg is a shrewd, clever lawyer, who perfectly understands his business and the way to treat his clients politely and persuasively; he always discourages lawsuits, recommends delay and an attempt at an arrangement, and thus quietly brings about the desired result without, as it were, seeming to interfere. Aunt Sophia respected him highly for his discretion and foresight, though she took care never to let him see through her intentions, since he was not the man to take sharp and decisive measures. For any such business she employed Van Beek, who is a man to carry out the law to the letter, without feeling any pity for the sufferer.

It was therefore in keeping with Overberg's character that he recommended me to temporize with the General, to give him time to pay his debts, and not to drive such an old man to despair, though he was a foreigner. The good man little knew he was preaching to one who already shared his views, and whose inmost wish was to deal as gently as possible with Von Zwenken.

I must acknowledge that what I heard at the soiree did not make a favourable impression on me. The past life of the young lady must have been a singular one, if there be any truth in the gossip I heard about her. I know much must be set down to slander in a small town, where people are at a loss what to talk about when not criticising their neighbours.

But, however, you must judge for yourself from what follows.

Among the ladies to whom I was introduced was a charming young widow with jet-black eyes and lively features; she is a niece of the Roselaers, I am told, and at first I felt very sorry her name was not Francis Mordaunt, the niece-elect of Aunt Sophia. However, when Overberg had drawn her out a little on the subject of the Von Zwenkens, I felt exceedingly glad to think our acquaintance would not extend beyond the present evening.

I began to feel a most intense hatred against her, so unmercifully did she attack poor Francis.

"Yes, they had been well acquainted when her grandfather was commandant of the garrison, and she herself had visited at the house of the Colonel. But no, friendship had never existed between her and the young lady; she was too eccentric and ill-mannered. Just imagine, Jonker, she came to our house one evening when she knew there was to be dancing and music. Yes, she dropped in, as nonchalant as possible, in a dark merino dress, fastened up to the neck, with a turn-down collar and a silk neckerchief--just for all the world like a boy. And her boots--they might have belonged to some plough-boy. Upon my word, I believe there were nails in the soles; a non-commissioned officer would not have been so rude as to enter a salon in them."

"Perhaps she had made a mistake about the evening," I said, by way of excuse.

"Certainly not! She received her invitation a week beforehand. Surely that was time enough to get a ball-dress made. And it was not because she hadn't got any other dresses; for two days afterwards she came to a house where we were invited to spend a quiet evening, en grande toilette, a low dress (as if she expected to be invited to dance), and resplendent with jewellery and diamonds. Now I ask you if that was not done to annoy us and to wound our feelings?"

"It seems to me she took more trouble to do honour to the ladies than she had taken to please the gentlemen."

"The truth is, she was not at all complimentary to the gentlemen,"

rejoined a thin, elderly-looking spinster of an uncertain age, dressed in an old-fashioned style, who I should have thought would have been the last person to come to the defence of a s.e.x that had so clearly neglected her.

"And the gentlemen--no doubt they reciprocated her nonchalance?" I asked. "It is very probable she was left in the company of the elderly ladies all the evening to increase the number of 'wall flowers.'"