The Experiences of a Barrister, and Confessions of an Attorney Part 25

The affair was thus happily terminated; Mrs. Warner, her children, and sister, were enriched, and Caleb Jennings was set up in a good way of business in his native place, where he still flourishes. Over the centre of his shop there is a large nondescript sign, surmounted by a golden boot, which upon a close inspection is found to bear a resemblance to a huge bureau chest of drawers, all the circ.u.mstances connected with which may be heard, for the asking, and in much fuller detail than I have given, from the lips of the owner of the establishment, by any lady or gentleman who will take the trouble of a journey to Watley for that purpose.

THE PUZZLE.

Tempus fugit! The s.p.a.ce of but a few brief yesterdays seems to have pa.s.sed since the occurrence of the following out-of-the-way incidents--out-of-the-way, even in our profession, fertile as it is in startling experiences; and yet the faithful and unerring tell-tale and monitor, Anno Domini 1851, instructs me that a quarter of a century has nearly slipped by since the first scene in the complicated play of circ.u.mstances opened upon me. The date I remember well, for the Tower-guns had been proclaiming with their thunder-throats the victory of Navarino but a short time before a clerk announced, "William Martin, with a message from Major Stewart."

This William Martin was a rather sorry curiosity in his way. He was now in the service of our old client, Major Stewart; and a tall, good-looking fellow enough, spite of a very decided cast in his eyes, which the rascal, when in his cups--no unusual occurrence--declared he had caught from his former masters--Edward Thorneycroft, Esq., an enormously rich and exceedingly yellow East India director, and his son, Mr. Henry Thorneycroft, with whom, until lately transferred to Major Stewart's service, he had lived from infancy--his mother and father having formed part of the elder Thorneycroft's establishment when he was born. He had a notion in his head that he had better blood in his veins than the world supposed, and was excessively fond of aping the gentleman; and this he did, I must say, with the ease and a.s.surance of a stage-player. His name was scarcely out of the clerk's lips when he entered the inner office with a great effort at steadiness and deliberation, closed the door very carefully and importantly, hung his hat with much precision on a bra.s.s peg, and then steadying himself by the door-handle, surveyed the situation and myself with staring lack-l.u.s.tre eyes and infinite gravity.

I saw what was the matter.

"You have been in the 'Sun,' Mr. Martin?"

A wink, inexpressible by words, replied to me, and I could see by the motion of the fellow's lips that speech was attempted; but it came so thick that it was several minutes before I made out that he meant to say the British had been knocking the Turks about like bricks, and that he had been patriotically drinking the healths of the said British or bricks.

"Have the goodness, sir, to deliver your message, and then instantly leave the office."

"Old Tho-o-o-rney," was the hiccoughed reply, "has smoked the--the plot. Young Thorney's done for. Ma-a-aried in a false name; tra-ansportation--of course."

"What gibberish is this about old Thorney and young Thorney? Do you not come from Major Stewart?"

"Ye-e-es, that's right; the route's arrived for the old trump; wishes to--to see you"

"Major Stewart dying! Why, you are a more disgraceful scamp than I believed you to be. Send this fellow away," I added to a clerk who answered my summons. I then hastened off, and was speedily rattling over the stones towards Baker Street, Portman Square, where Major Stewart resided. As I left the office I heard Martin beg the clerk to lead him to the pump previous to sending him off--no doubt for the purpose of sobering himself somewhat previous to reappearing before the major, whose motives for hiring or retaining such a fellow in his modest establishment I could not understand.

"You were expected more than an hour ago," said Dr. Hampton, who was just leaving the house. "The major is now, I fear, incapable of business."

There was no time for explanation, and I hastily entered the sick-chamber. Major Stewart, though rapidly sinking, recognized me; and in obedience to a gesture from her master the aged, weeping house-keeper left the room. The major's daughter, Rosamond Stewart, had been absent with her aunt, her father's maiden sister, on a visit, I understood, to some friends in Scotland, and had not, I concluded, been made acquainted with the major's illness, which had only a.s.sumed a dangerous character a few days previously. The old soldier was dying calmly and painlessly--rather from exhaustion of strength, a general failure of the powers of life, than from any especial disease. A slight flush tinged the mortal pallor of his face as I entered, and the eyes emitted a slightly-reproachful expression.

"It is not more, my dear sir," I replied softly but eagerly to his look, "than a quarter of an hour ago that I received your message."

I do not know whether he comprehended or even distinctly heard what I said, for his feeble but extremely anxious glance was directed whilst I spoke to a large oil-portrait of Rosamond Stewart, suspended over the mantel-piece. The young lady was a splendid, dark-eyed beauty, and of course the pride and darling of her father. Presently wrenching, as it were, his eyes from the picture, he looked in my face with great earnestness, and bending my ear close to his lips, I heard him feebly and brokenly say, "A question to ask you, that's all; read--read!" His hand motioned towards a letter which lay open on the bed; I ran it over, and the major's anxiety was at once explained. Rosamond Stewart had, I found, been a short time previously married in Scotland to Henry Thorneycroft, the son of the wealthy East India director. Finding his illness becoming serious, the major had antic.i.p.ated the time and mode in which the young people had determined to break the intelligence to the irascible father of the bridegroom, and the result was the furious and angry letter in reply which I was perusing. Mr. Thorneycroft would never, he declared, recognize the marriage of his undutiful nephew--nephew, _not_ son; for he was, the letter announced, the child of an only sister, whose marriage had also mortally offended Mr. Thorneycroft, and had been brought up from infancy as his (Mr. Thorneycroft's) son, in order that the hated name of Allerton, to which the boy was alone legally ent.i.tled, might never offend his ear. There was something added insinuative of a doubt of the legality of the marriage, in consequence of the misnomer of the bridegroom at the ceremony.

"One question," muttered the major, as I finished the perusal of the letter--"Is Rosamond's marriage legal?"

"No question about it. How could any one suppose that an involuntary misdescription can affect such a contract?"

"Enough--enough!" he gasped. "A great load is gone!--the rest is with G.o.d. Beloved Rosamond"--The slight whisper was no longer audible; sighs, momently becoming fainter and weaker, followed--ceased, and in little more than ten minutes after the last word was spoken, life was extinct. I rang the bell, and turned to leave the room, and as I did so surprised Martin on the other side of the bed. He had been listening, screened by the thick damask curtains, and appeared to be a good deal sobered. I made no remark, and proceeded on down stairs. The man followed, and as soon as we had gained the hall said quickly, yet hesitatingly, "Sir--sir!"

"Well, what have you to say?"

"Nothing very particular, sir. But did I understand you to say just now, that it was of no consequence if a man married in a false name?"

"That depends upon circ.u.mstances. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing--nothing; only I have heard it's transportation, especially if there's money."

"Perhaps you are right. Anything else?"

"No," said he, opening the door; "that's all--mere curiosity."

I heard nothing more of the family for some time, except with reference to Major Stewart's personal property, about 4000 bequeathed to his daughter, with a charge thereon of an annuity of 20 a year for Mrs.

Leslie, the aged house-keeper; the necessary business connected with which we transacted. But about a twelvemonth after the major's death, the marriage of the elder Thorneycroft with a widow of the same name as himself, and a cousin, the paper stated, was announced; and pretty nearly a year and a half subsequent to the appearance of this ominous paragraph, the decease of Mr. Henry Thorneycroft at Lausanne, in Switzerland, who had left, it was added in the newspaper stock-phrase of journalism, a young widow and two sons to mourn their irreparable loss. Silence again, as far as we were concerned, settled upon the destinies of the descendants of our old military client, till one fine morning a letter from Dr. Hampton informed us of the sudden death by apoplexy, a few days previously, of the East India director. Dr. Hampton further hinted that he should have occasion to write us again in a day or two, relative to the deceased's affairs, which, owing to Mr. Thorneycroft's unconquerable aversion to making a will, had, it was feared, been left in an extremely unsatisfactory state. Dr. Hampton had written to us, at the widow's request, in consequence of his having informed her that we had been the professional advisers of Major Stewart, and were in all probability those of his daughter, Mrs. Henry Allerton.

We did not quite comprehend the drift of this curious epistle; but although not specially instructed, we determined at once to write to Mrs.

Rosamond Thorneycroft or Allerton, who with her family was still abroad, and in the meantime take such formal steps in her behalf as might appear necessary.

We were not long in doubt as to the motives of the extremely civil application to ourselves on the part of the widow of the East India director. The deceased's wealth had been almost all invested in land, which went, he having died intestate, to his nephew's son, Henry Allerton; and the personals in which the widow would share were consequently of very small amount. Mrs. Thorneycroft was, therefore, anxious to propose, through us, a more satisfactory and equitable arrangement. We could of course say nothing till the arrival of Mrs.

Rosamond Allerton, for which, however, we had only a brief time to wait.

There were, we found, no indisposition on that lady's part to act with generosity towards Mr. Thorneycroft's widow--a showy, vulgarish person, by the way, of about forty years of age--but there was a legal difficulty in the way, in consequence of the heir-at-law being a minor. Mrs.

Thorneycroft became at length terribly incensed, and talked a good deal of angry nonsense about disputing the claim of Henry Allerton's son to the estates, on the ground that his marriage, having been contracted in a wrong name, was null and void. Several annoying paragraphs got in consequence into the Sunday newspapers, and these brought about a terrible disclosure.

About twelve o'clock one day, the Widow Thorneycroft bounced unceremoniously into the office, dragging in with her a comely and rather interesting-looking young woman, but of a decidedly rustic complexion and accent, and followed by a grave, middle-aged clergyman. The widow's large eyes sparkled with strong excitement, and her somewhat swarthy features were flushed with hot blood.

"I have brought you," she burst out abruptly, "the real Mrs.

Allerton, and"--

"No, no!" interrupted the young woman, who appeared much agitated--"Thorneycroft, not Allerton!"--

"I know, child--I know; but that is nothing to the purpose. This young person, Mr. Sharp, is, I repeat, the true and lawful Mrs. Henry Allerton."

"Pooh!" I answered; "do you take us for idiots? This," I added with some sternness, "is either a ridiculous misapprehension or an attempt at imposture, and I am very careless which it may be."

"You are mistaken, sir," rejoined the clergyman mildly. "This young woman was certainly married by me at Swindon church, Wilts, to a gentleman of the name of Henry Thorneycroft, who, it appears from the newspapers, confirmed by this lady, was no other than Mr. Henry Allerton. This marriage, we find, took place six months previously to that contracted with Rosamond Stewart. I have further to say that this young woman, Maria Emsbury, is a very respectable person, and that her marriage-portion, of a little more than eight hundred pounds, was given to her husband, whom she has only seen thrice since her marriage, to support himself till the death of his reputed father, constantly a.s.serted by him to be imminent."

"A story very smoothly told, and I have no doubt in your opinion quite satisfactory; but there is one slight matter which I fancy you will find somewhat difficult of proof--I mean the ident.i.ty of Maria Emsbury's husband with the son or nephew of the late Mr. Thorneycroft."

"He always said he was the son of the rich East Indian, Mr.

Thorneycroft," said the young woman with a hysterical sob; "and here,"

she added, "is his picture in his wedding-dress--that of an officer of the Gloucestershire Yeomanry. He gave it me the day before the wedding."

I almost s.n.a.t.c.hed the portrait. Sure enough it was a miniature of Henry Allerton--there could be no doubt about that.

Mr. Flint, who had been busy with some papers, here approached and glanced at the miniature.

I was utterly confounded, and my partner, I saw, was equally dismayed; and no wonder, entertaining as we both did the highest respect and admiration for the high-minded and beautiful daughter of Major Stewart.

The Widow Thorneycroft's exultation was exuberant.

"As this only legal marriage," said she, "has been blessed with no issue, I am of course, as you must be aware, the legitimate heiress-at-law, as my deceased husband's nearest blood-relative. I shall, however," she added, "take care to amply provide for my widowed niece-in-law."

The young woman made a profound rustic courtesy, and tears of unaffected grat.i.tude, I observed, filled her eyes.

The game was not, however, to be quite so easily surrendered as they appeared to imagine. "Tut! tut!" exclaimed Mr. Flint bluntly--"this may be mere practice. Who knows how the portrait has been obtained?"

The girl's eyes flashed with honest anger. There was no practice about her I felt a.s.sured. "Here are other proofs: My husband's signet-ring, left accidentally, I think, with me, and two letters which I from curiosity took out of his coat-pocket--the day, I am pretty sure it was, after we were married."

"If this c.u.mulative circ.u.mstantial evidence does not convince you, gentlemen," added the Rev. Mr. Wishart, "I have direct personal testimony to offer. You know Mr. Angerstein of Bath?"