University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

“Are you aware,” continued I, “of Montague's
connection with my grandfather?”

“I am,” said Balcombe; “I know that he was
the last remaining scion of a respectable and decayed
family; that he was left a penniless orphan;
that the old gentleman brought him up, educated
him, had him trained to the bar, and gave him all
the benefit of his countenance, and no little
money.”

“Then his obligations were even greater than I
was aware of. Still he was poor, but, by diligence,
and some talent, he got along, though slowly, in
the world. He was much employed by my grandfather,
sometimes as an amanuensis, sometimes as a
man of business; and when the old gentleman died,
suddenly, and without naming the person who had
his will, no one doubted that Montague was the
man. He was accordingly applied to, but in vain.

In the mean time, the devisee under the former
will brought it forward; none later was produced,
and it was established.

“My grandfather's liberality to his daughters
had somewhat involved his estate; and, when his
debts were paid, there was little left besides the
entailed property. The annuity, of course, ceased;
and my poor father, never an economist, having
lived up to his income before, now tried in vain to
bring his expenses within the compass of his reduced
means. He never could be prevailed on to
take any active measures to recover the lost will,
for he said he had not married for fortune. Whether
the pressure of necessity would have overcome
his scruples, had he lived to this time, I do
not know. But he died before the ruin of his
family was so manifest, though not before it was
inevitable. His death hastened the consummation.
About the time I came of age last April, all he left
was sold; and, from the proceeds of the sale, all
that remained to us were the means of my taking
this journey, and of a scanty subsistence for my
poor mother and sisters till I return.”

“Was no opposition made to the probate of the
will?”

“No further than to summon Montague.”

“And what did he say?”

“Before that time he had professed total ignorance
of the last will; but being on oath, said he
had seen such a paper, and did not know what had
become of it, or where it was.”

“Was he asked when he saw it last?”

“Yes. He said he had never seen it since the
day it was acknowledged before him. Now it was
obvious that he did not wish to say anything about
the will; but when thus much was wrung from
him by the power of conscience, many took that as
a proof of the truth of the whole story. For, said
they, it would have been as easy to lie, out and out
as to admit that he had witnessed the paper, but to
say he did not know what had become of it.”

“As easy, to be sure, but not quite so safe.”

“Why so?”

“Because in the one case he cannot be contradicted;
in the other he might have been.”

“Contradicted! By whom?”

“By me.”

“By you?”

“By me. I was there. I witnessed the will as
well as Montague. I saw the old gentleman close
it up in an envelope, and seal it with three seals
and hand it to Montague.”

“Good Heaven! is it possible? But how, there
do you say that Montague's assertion that he
never saw it again could not be contradicted?”

“Because I do not know that he ever saw it
again.”

“How so?”

“I do not know that he ever opened the envelope.”

“But how can he fail to know what has become
of it?”

“That I cannot tell; but I have no doubt he has
devised some plan by which he has been enabled,
in saying so, to speak the truth literally.”

“Literally! yes. But in so doing he would incur
all the guilt of falsehood.”

“No doubt; but not the penalties.”

“Not in this world, but in the next.”

“Conscience and religion would make no difference,
but superstition might distinguish.”

“But Montague passes for a religious man.”

“He was always absurdly superstitious, even
when an open reprobate. He would not then
have sworn to a literal lie, though he was a great
liar. When did he become religious?”

“I believe in the interval between the death of
my grandfather and the establishment of his will.
Montague was under great obligation to him, and
seemed to take his death very much to heart.
He became gloomy and serious, and joined the
church.”

“There it is! The form of religion and literal
truth as a salvo for wronging the dead, and plundering
the living, by moral perjury.”

“Are you, then, quite sure the will was never
revoked or destroyed by my grandfather?”

“Quite sure. I have a letter from him which
must have been written just before his death, full
of all the fondness of a father's heart for his children,
and especially for you, whom he expected to
uphold the honour of his name.”

“Why, then, did you not come forward?”

“I knew nothing of it. I was wandering a
the earth, and did not hear of his death till
controversy was at an end. Even now I know
not a word of the contents of the will. Have
any proof on that point?”

“Nothing, but my father's memorandum
what my grandfather told him, written the same
day.”

“That's no proof. As to Montague, he came
here a few years ago, obviously improved in circumstances,
though without much property. It
was plain he had a plenty of money, though
followed no business; for he only affected to practise
law.

“As soon as I saw him, I was led to suspect
that all was not right. Of course I expected
advances to me, and I certainly made none
him, for I had always an undisguised a version
him. But the remarkable thing was, that he seems
desirous not to have it known that we have ever
seen each other. I cannot learn that he has ever
given a hint of our former acquaintance to a
person: we have accordingly met as strangers
the houses of our common acquaintance, and
have indulged his fancy for seeming not to know
me. Sometimes, indeed, when I have permitted
him to think that he has a little ingratiated himself
with me, he will make allusions, sotto voce, to I
gone days.

“All this convinced me that there was something
not exactly right in his history since I left

Virginia. When I heard some vague rumours
about the lost will, my suspicions began to draw
to a point, and I set on foot a system of observation
on his ways and means which confirmed
them.

“I told you, that without business or property
of any consequence, or any known fund to draw
on, he was never without money; not that he ever
displayed large sums, or seemed to have them at
command; but he was the realization of Phillips's
idea, of a man who always has a shilling in his
pocket. He seemed to have found Fortunatus's
purse: a small one, indeed, but always full.

“Happening at last to have need of Eastern
funds, I applied to a merchant for the purpose of
purchasing a bill on New-York. He accordingly
furnished one drawn by Montague on a house
there, for the desired amount of one thousand dollars.
On inquiry, I ascertained that he drew regularly,
at the same time every year, on the same
house, for the same sum.

“A most palpable annuity! Unde derivatur?
That was the question. I had little doubt whence;
and if my suspicions were just, then there was
foul play, and the children of my earliest friend,
my patron and benefactor, were foully wronged.

“Ay, William!—you see I know your name—
you have no idea of my debt of gratitude to that
kind, generous, conscientious, benevolent old man.
You know nothing of me. Your mother was married
and gone before I came under your grandfather's

eye; a distant relation, an orphan of scanty
patrimony, insufficient to obtain a proper education.
This deficiency your grandfather made up,
and by his aid I graduated at William and Mary
when you were but a child. Not long afterward
I went into the wide world in quest of fortune, and
here I am. You are not to judge of my success
by this partridge trap. Though not rich, I am not
poor. What I might have been, had I hoarded, I
neither know nor care. I was myself the foster-child
of charity, and in every deserving object of
it, I see one sent, as it were, by Him whose stewards
we all are, to receive a portion of that unextinguishable
debt I owe your grandfather. I
speak of these things now, because I would not
have you think me an officious intermeddler in
other men's matters, nor imagine an extravagant
disproportion between my inducements and what
I have done, am doing, and propose to do.

“Well, I bought the bill, and sent it to my correspondent
in New-York, with instructions to obtain
English funds in payment. This he did, getting
a draft on a Liverpool house, accompanied
by a letter of advice. The correspondent in Liverpool
was instructed in like manner to take a
draft on Northumberland. This was also obtained,
with a letter of advice, duplicates being furnished
in each instance. Here they are.”

He went out, and presently returned, bringing a
Russia leather portable desk. From this he took
six papers: three of them were the seconds, in

common form, of three drafts. One drawn by
Montague on Tompkins and Todd of New-York;
one by that house on Bell and Brothers of Liverpool;
and the third by Bell and Brothers on Mr.
Raby, the possessor of my grandfather's property
in Virginia. The other three ran as follows:—