University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

Henry VI.

Before the end of the week, the friends at Wyllys-Roof,
after carefully examining all the facts within their knowledge,
were confirmed in their first opinion, that the individual
claiming to be William Stanley was an impostor. Mrs.
Stanley was the last of the three to make up her mind decidedly,
on the point; but at length, she also was convinced,
that Mr. Clapp and this sailor had united in a conspiracy to

obtain possession of her husband's estate. The chief reasons
for believing this to be the case, consisted in the difference of
character and expression between the claimant and William
Stanley: the more Mr. Wyllys examined this point, the
clearer it appeared to him, who had known his friend's only
son from an infant, and had always felt much interested in
him. As a child, and a boy, William Stanley had been of
a morose temper, and of a sluggish, inactive mind—not positively
stupid, but certainly far from clever; this claimant, on
the contrary, had all the expression and manner of a shrewd,
quick-witted man, who might be passionate, but who looked
like a good-natured person, although his countenance was
partially disfigured by traces of intemperance. These facts,
added to the length of time which had elapsed since the
reported death of the individual, the neglect to claim his
inheritance, the suspicious circumstances under which this
sailor now appeared, under the auspices of an obscure country
lawyer, who bore an indifferent character, and to whom the
peculiar circumstances of the Stanley estate were probably
well known, all united in producing the belief in a conspiracy.
There was no doubt, however, but that a strong case
could be made out on the other hand by the claimant; it was
evident that Mr. Reed was convinced of his identity; his
resemblance to William Stanley, and to Mr. Stanley, the
father, could not be denied; the similarity of the handwriting
was also remarkable; his profession, his apparent
age, his possession of the letters, his accurate knowledge of
persons and places connected with the family, altogether
amounted to an important body of evidence in his favour.

It would require a volume in itself, to give the details of
this singular case; but the general reader will probably care
for little more than an outline of the proceedings. It would
indeed, demand a legal hand to do full justice to the subject;
those who are disposed to inquire more particularly into the
matter, having a natural partiality, or acquired taste for the
intricate uncertainties of the law, will probably have it in

their power ere long, to follow the case throughout, in print;
it is understood at Longbridge, that Mr. James Bernard, son
of Judge Bernard, is engaged in writing a regular report,
which, it is supposed, will shortly be published. In the
mean time, we shall be compelled to confine ourselves chiefly
to a general statement of the most important proceedings,
more particularly connected with our narrative.

“Here is a letter from Clapp, sir, proposing a compromise,”
said Hazlehurst, handing the paper to Mr. Wyllys.
It was dated two days after the interview at Wyllys-Roof;
the tone was amicable and respectful, though worded in Mr.
Clapp's peculiar style. We have not space for the letter
itself, but its purport was, an offer on the part of Mr. Stanley
to forgive all arrears, and overlook the past, provided his
father's estate, in its actual condition, was immediately placed
in his hands. He was urged to take this step, he said, by
respect for his opponents, and the conviction that they had
acted conscientiously, while he himself, by his own neglect
to appear earlier, had naturally given rise to suspicions. He
was therefore ready to receive the property as it stood at
present, engaging that neither executors nor legatee should
be molested for arrears; the sums advanced to Hazlehurst,
he was willing should be considered equivalent to the legacy
bequeathed to him by Mr. Stanley, the father, in case of his
son's return, although in fact they amounted to a much larger
sum.

This offer of a compromise merely confirmed the suspicions
of all parties at Wyllys-Roof. The offer was rejected
in the same letter which announced to Mr. Reed, that the
defendants had seen as yet no good reason for believing in
the identity of the individual claiming the name of William
Stanley, and consequently, that they should contest his claim
to the Stanley estate.

After this step, it became necessary to make every preparation
for a trial; as it was already evident, from the usual
legal notices of the plaintiffs, that they intended to carry the

case into a court of justice, with as little delay as possible.
It was the first object of Mr. Wyllys and Hazlehurst, to
obtain as much testimony as lay within their reach, upon the
points of the capacity and natural temperament of William
Stanley; letters were written, in the hope of discovering
something through the old family physician, the school-master,
and companions of the young man before he went to sea; and
Mrs. Stanley even believed that the nurse of her step-son
was still living. Agents were also employed, to search out
some clue, which might help to trace the past life and character
of the individual bearing the name of William Stanley.
Harry was only awaiting the expected arrival of Mr. Ellsworth,
before he set out himself for the little town in the
neighbourhood of Greatwood, where he hoped to gather
much useful evidence. To what degree he was also desirous
of the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Creighton again, we cannot
say; but his friends at Wyllys-Roof believed that he was
quite as anxious to see the sister as the brother. He had
not long to wait, for, punctual to the appointed day, the
earliest possible, Mr. Ellsworth arrived, accompanied by Mrs.
Creighton.

“Now, Mr. Hazlehurst, come here and tell me all about
these vexatious proceedings,” said Mrs. Creighton to Harry,
as the whole party left the dining-room for the piazza, the
day Mr. Ellsworth and his sister arrived at Wyllys-Roof.
“I hope you and Frank found out, in that long consultation
you had this morning, that it would not be difficult to settle
the matter as it ought to be settled?”

“On the contrary, we agreed that there were a great many
serious difficulties before us.”

“You don't surely think there is any real danger as to the
result?” asked the lady with great interest. “You cannot
suppose that this man is really William Stanley, come to life
again!”

“No; I believe him to be an impostor; and so does Ellsworth—so

do we all; but he makes out quite a plausible
story, nevertheless.”

“But what are you going to do? Come, sit down here,
and tell me about it.”

“You forget, Josephine,” said Mr. Ellsworth, smiling,
“that we lawyers dare not trust the ladies with our secrets;
you must contrive to restrain your curiosity, or interest—
whichever you choose to call it—until the trial.”

“Nonsense!—I am quite too much interested for that; I
shall expect to hear a great deal before the trial. Is it possible
your stock of patience will last till then, Miss Wyllys?”
added the lady, turning to Elinor.

“Well, I don't know; I confess myself very anxious as
to the result,” said Elinor, blushing a little.

“To be sure; we are all anxious; and I expect to be
taken into your confidence, Mr. Hazlehurst, quite as far as
you legal gentlemen think it safe to admit a lady. Frank
has a very bad habit of never trusting me with his business
matters, Miss Wyllys; we must cure him of that.”

“I am inclined to think, Mrs. Creighton, your patience
would scarcely bear the recital of even one case of Richard
Roe versus John Doe,” said Mr. Wyllys.

“Perhaps not; for I care not a straw for Richard Roe, or
John Doe, either.”

“Would you really like to see the account which this new-comer
gives of himself?” asked Hazlehurst.

“Certainly; I speak seriously, I assure you.”

“You shall see it this evening,” said Harry. “I think
you will agree with me, that it is a strange story.”

“But, Mrs. Creighton,” said Mr. Wyllys, “we have had
our heads so full of law, and conspiracies, and impostors,
lately, that I was in hopes you would bring us something
more agreeable to think and talk about. What were the
people doing at Nahant when you left there?”

“It was very dull there; at least I thought so; I was in
a great hurry for Frank to bring me away.”

“What was wanting, pray?” asked Mr. Wyllys. “Was
it the fault of the weather, the water, or the company?”

“Of all together, sir; nothing was of the right kind; it
was not half so pleasant as Saratoga this year. Even the
flirtations were not as amusing as usual.”

“I should have thought you might have been amused in
some other way,” said Mr. Ellsworth.

“Flirtation, I would have you believe, my good brother,
is sometimes quite an agreeable and exciting pastime.”

“Faute de mieux,” said Harry, smiling.

“You surprise me, Josephine, by saying so, as you are no
flirt yourself,” observed her brother, with a perfectly honest
and natural expression.

“Well, I don't know; certainly I never flirt intentionally;
but I won't be sure my spirits have not carried me away
sometimes. Have you never, Miss Wyllys, in moments of
gaiety or excitement, said more than you intended to?”

“Have I never flirted, do you mean?” asked Elinor,
smiling.

“But though you say it yourself, I don't believe you are
a bit of a flirt, Mrs. Creighton,” said the unsuspicious Mr.
Wyllys.

“Oh, no, sir; I would not have you believe me a regular
flirt for the world. I only acknowledge to a little trifling,
now and then. Miss Wyllys knows what I mean; we
women are more observant of each other. Now, haven't
you suspected me of flirting more than once?”

“You had better ask me,” said Mary Van Alstyne;—
“Elinor is not half suspicious enough.”

“The acquittal of the gentlemen ought to satisfy you,”
said Elinor. “They are supposed to be the best judges.
Are you sure, however, that you did not flirt with Mr. Hopkins?—he
was at Nahant with you, I believe.”

“I am afraid it surpasses the power of woman to distract
Mr. Hopkins's attention from a sheepshead or a paugee.”

“You have really a very pretty view here, Miss Wyllys,
although there is nothing bold or commanding in the country;
it makes a very pleasant home picture,” observed Mr. Ellsworth,
who had been looking about him. “That reach in
the river has a very good effect; the little hamlet, too, looks
well in the distance; and the wood and meadow opposite,
are as well placed as one could wish.”

“I am glad you like it; but we really think that, for such
simple scenery, it is uncommonly pretty,” replied Elinor.

“Yes; even your fastidious friend, Mr. Stryker, pronounced
the landscape about Wyllys-Roof to be very well put together,”
said Mrs. Creighton.

“Mr. Stryker, however, professes to have no eye for anything
of the kind,” replied Elinor.

“That is only one of the man's affectations; his eyes are
more like those of other people than he is willing to confess.
Though Mr. Stryker pretends to be one of your men of the
world, whose notions are all practical, yet one soon discovers
that he cherishes his useless foibles, like other people,” said
the lady, with an air of careless frankness; though intending
the speech for the benefit of Hazlehurst and Mr. Wyllys,
who both stood near her.

“Perhaps you don't know that Mr. Stryker has preceded
you into our neighbourhood,” said Mary Van Alstyne. “He
is staying at Mr. de Vaux's.”

“Oh, yes; I knew he was to be here about these times.
Pray, tell me which is Mr. de Vaux's place. It is a fine
house, I am told.”

“A great deal too fine,” said Harry. “It is all finery, or
rather it was a few years since.”

“It is much improved now,” observed Elinor; “he talks
of taking down half the columns. That is the house, Mrs.
Creighton,” she added, showing the spot where the white
pillars of Colonnade Manor were partly visible through an
opening in the wood.

“What a colonnade it seems to be! It puts one in mind
of the Italian epigram on some bad architecture,” said Mr.
Ellsworth:

“I understand, Miss Wyllys, that your friend, Mr. Stryker,
calls it the `cafè de mille colonnes,”' said Mrs. Creighton.

“Does Mrs. Creighton's friend, Mr. Stryker, treat it so
disrespectfully? Mr. de Vaux has given it a very good
name, I think. It is Broadlawn now; last year it was
Colonnade Manor.”

“And, pray, what did Mr. Taylor's manorial rights consist
in?” asked Mr. Ellsworth.

“In the privilege of putting up as many Grecian summer-houses
as he pleased, I suppose,” said Harry; “the place
promised to be covered with them at one time.”

“Mr. de Vaux has taken them down; all but two at least,”
said Elinor.

“It was fortunate that Mr. Taylor had a long purse,” remarked
Mrs. Creighton; “for he seems to have delighted
in superfluities of all kinds.”

“I suppose you are aware, Mrs. Creighton, that false taste
is always a very expensive foible,” said Mr. Wyllys; “for
it looks upon ornament and improvement as the same thing.
My neighbour, Mr. Taylor, certainly has as much of that
spirit as any man I ever knew.”

“The name he gave his place is a good proof of that,”
said Harry. “If he had called it the Colonnade, that would
have been at least descriptive and appropriate; but he tacked
on the Manor, which had neither rhyme nor reason to recommend
it.”

“Was it not a Manor before the revolution?” inquired
Mrs. Creighton.

“Oh, no; only a farm belonging to the Van Hornes.
But Taylor would not have it called a farm, for the world;
he delights in big words,” said Mr. Wyllys.

“That is only natural, I suppose, for `Don Pompey,' as
Mr. Stryker calls him,” observed Mr. Ellsworth.

The following morning was the happy occasion, which
was to make Mrs. George Wyllys the wife of Uncle Dozie.
In the course of the week, which intervened between her
announcing the fact at Wyllys-Roof, and the wedding itself,
she had only consulted her friends twice, and changed her
mind as often. At first it was settled that she was to be
married at two o'clock, in church, with four witnesses present,
and that from church she was to return quietly to her
own house, where the party were to eat a family dinner with
her. A note, however, informed her friends that it was
finally decided, that the wedding should take place early in
the morning, at her own house, in the presence of some
dozen friends. The dinner was also postponed for a fortnight,
as the happy couple intended to set out for Boston, the morning
they were united.

The weather was propitious; and after an early breakfast
the party from Wyllys-Roof set out. It included Mr. Ellsworth
and Mrs. Creighton, who were connexions of the bride,
as well as Harry, and the family; Mary Van Alstyne remaining
at home with Jane.

They soon reached Longbridge, after a pleasant, early
drive. On being ushered into Mrs. Wyllys's drawing-room,
they were received in a very informal manner by the bride
herself. As Elinor had recommended a grey silk for the
wedding-dress, she was not at all surprised to find her aunt
wearing a coloured muslin. On one point, however, it was
evident she had not changed her mind; for the happy man,
Uncle Dozie, was there in full matrimonials, with a new wig,
and a white waistcoat. The groom elect looked much like
a victim about to be sacrificed; he was as miserably sheepish
and fidgety as ever old bachelor could be under similar
circumstances. Mrs. Creighton paid her compliments to the
bride very gracefully; and she tried to look as if the affair
were not a particularly good joke. Mr. Wyllys summoned

up a sort of resigned cheerfulness; Miss Agnes and Elinor
also endeavoured to look as became wedding-guests. The
children, who had all received presents from the bridegroom,
evidently thought the occasion a holiday. The clergyman
having appeared, Mrs. Wyllys gave her hand to the trembling
groom, and the important transaction was soon over.

`There is, at least, no danger of Uncle Dozie's taking a
nap,' thought Harry, `he looks too nervous and uncomfortable
for that.'

Congratulations and good wishes were duly offered; they
served only to increase the bridegroom's distress, while the
bride appeared perfectly satisfied, and in very good spirits.
She felt disposed to make a cheerful sacrifice for the benefit
of her children, to whom she had secured an efficient protector,
while at the same time, she was now sure of a prudent
friend and counsellor for life: so at least she informed Mrs.
Creighton.

“I am sorry your brother is not here, Mr. Hubbard.”

“He went to New York, on business, last night,” said the
groom.

“I hope you will have a pleasant trip to Eoston,” continued
Mr. Wyllys.

“Thank you for the wish, sir,” interposed the bride, “but
we determined last evening to go to Niagara, as we have
both been to Boston already.”

`We shall hear of you at New Orleans, yet,' thought
Harry.

Refreshments were brought in, and everybody, of course,
received their usual share of the wedding-cake.

“You see I have set you an excellent example,” said the
bride to Mrs. Creighton and Elinor.

“We must hope that these ladies will soon follow it,” said
Mr. Ellsworth, with a glance at Elinor.

“Shall we thank him, Miss Wyllys?” said Mrs. Creighton.
“It was kindly meant, I dare say.”

Mr. Wyllys, who was standing near them, smiled.

“It was only yesterday, Elinor,” added the new Mrs.
Hubbard, “that Black Bess, who made the cake you are
eating, told me when she brought it home, that she hoped
soon to make your own wedding-cake.”

“She has had the promise of it ever since I was five years
old,” said Elinor.

“Is it possible that Black Bess is still living and baking?”
said Harry. “I can remember her gingerbread, as long as
I can recollect anything. I once overheard some Longbridge
ladies declare, that they could tell Black Bess's cake as far as
they could see it; which struck me as something very
wonderful.”

“She seems to be a person of great importance,” said Mrs.
Creighton; “I shall hope soon to make her acquaintance.
My dear Miss Elinor, I wish you would bear in mind that
your wedding-cake has been ordered these dozen years. I
am afraid you forget how many of us are interested in it, as
well as Black Bess.”

“Our notable housekeepers you know, tell us that wedding-cake
will bear keeping half-a-century,” said Elinor,
smiling.

“That is after the ceremony I am sure, not before,” said
Mrs. Creighton.

Elinor seemed at last annoyed by these persevering allusions,
and several persons left the group. Hazlehurst took
a seat by Miss Patsey; he was anxious to show her that her
brother-in-law's behaviour, had in no manner changed his
regard for herself and her family.

“Where is Charlie,” he asked.

“He has gone off to Lake Champlain now. I hope you
and Charlie will both soon get tired of travelling about, Mr.
Hazlehurst; you ought to stay at home with your friends.”

“But I don't seem to have any home; Charlie and I are
both by nature, home-bred, home-staying youths, but we seem
fated to wander about. How is he coming on with his pictures?—has
he nearly done his work on the lakes?”

“Yes, I believe so; he has promised to come to Longbridge
next month, for the rest of the summer. He has been
distressed, quite as much as the rest of us, Mr. Hazlehurst,
by these difficulties—”

“Do not speak of them, Miss Patsey; it is a bad business;
but one which will never interfere between me and my old
friends, I trust.”

Miss Patsey looked her thanks, her mortification, and her
sympathy, but said nothing more.

The carriage which was to convey the bride and groom to
the steamboat, soon drove to the door; and taking leave of
their friends, the happy couple set off. They turned back,
however, before they were out of sight, as Mrs. Hubbard
wished to change the travelling-shawl she had first selected
for another. Mr. Wyllys, Elinor, and Harry accompanied
them to the boat; and they all three agreed, that the groom
had not yet been guilty of napping; although Hazlehurst
declared, that as the seats on deck were cool and shady, he
had little doubt that he would be dozing before the boat was
out of sight.

Those who feel the same anxiety for the welfare of the
children, during their mother's absence, which weighed upon
the mind of Miss Agnes, will be glad to hear that they were
all three carried to Wyllys-Roof, under the charge of an experienced
nurse. And it must be confessed, that it was long
since little George, a riotous child, some seven years old, had
been kept under such steady, but kind discipline, as that
under which he lived, during this visit to his grandfather.

Mr. Ellsworth and Harry passed the morning at Longbridge,
engaged with their legal affairs; and in the evening,
Hazlehurst left Wyllys-Roof for Philadelphia; and Mrs.
Stanley accompanied him, on her way to Greatwood.