University of Virginia Library

17. CHAPTER XVII.
WHAT THE KEY OPENED.

Harley received this note one afternoon soon after his visit to
Blandfield, and, informing St. Leger that he was called away upon
business, but would return by nightfall, set out for Oakhill.

A paper addressed to himself by his uncle George excited his
curiosity in a lively manner. This paper promised to explain—there
was at least the possibility that it might—the meaning of the very
singular words which had escaped from the lips of Mr. Hartright
when he was dying, and would no doubt throw light upon the
equally puzzling expressions of his letter to Harley at Vienna. In
the paper now discovered, the “something” which Harley would
give “all he possessed” to know, might be revealed; and in a maze
of thought, which ended always where it began, Harley galloped
on, and reached Oakhill.

Colonel Hartright met him in the drawing-room, standing, as
usual, his gold cane in his hand, in front of the fireplacc.

“Good day, sir!” he said, bowing stiffly. “I am gratified by your
prompt response in person to my note.”

“It was but common courtesy, sir; and another motive was
added—curiosity.”

Colonel Hartright bowed.

“I will explain in a few words how the paper alluded to in my
note was discovered.”

Harley listened with ardent curiosity.

“It was found in a closet in my late brother's apartment,” continued
the elder, “which the key you were good enough to return
to me was found to open. This key, as you are aware, was taken
from the hand of my late brother, after his death, received by me
unconsciously, when Dr. Wills presented it to me, placed in my
pocket, and dropped at the Raleigh tavern, in Williamsburg. The

subject was alluded to, you will remember, sir, on the day of the
opening of my brother's will, and the impression was left upon my
mind at that time that the key might open some receptacle of
private papers which my brother regarded as of peculiar importance.”

“The conclusion was a natural one, sir,” said Harley. “It seems
that such papers have been discovered.”

“One paper, and no more. I will proceed, if agreeable to you,
with the brief narrative which I designed.”

Harley inclined his head and was silent. Colonel Joshua Hartright
was evidently in his habitually testy state of mind, and never
under any circumstances relished any interruption of the majestic
flow of his discourse.

“When you were good enough to return the key,” he continued,
stiffly, “I proceeded to discover, if possible, to what it belonged—
whether to some desk, chest of drawers, trunk, or closet. It was
found to fit no lock in the house, until I recalled what had escaped
my attention for many years—a common closet or set of shelves in
the wainscoting beside the fireplace in my brother's sleeping-room,
such as every house has, I believe, for securing silver or other valuables.
This was opened by the key, and there I found this paper
addressed to yourself.”

Colonel Joshua Hartright went to his writing-table, opened a
drawer, and took out the paper. It made but a small package, and
might almost have been regarded as an ordinary letter.

“I now deliver the paper into your hands, sir, in accordance with
the direction of my late brother, which you will find endorsed
upon it.”

Harley took the paper, with an expression of strong interest.
His eye fell upon the direction. At the top was the word “Important.”
Beneath, “For my nephew, Justin Harley. Read this alone.”

Harley was about to tear open the paper. His hand stopped.

“I am to read this alone,” he said.

“Such, I believe, is the endorsement,” said Colonel Hartright.

Harley suppressed his curiosity, put the paper in his pocket, and
rose, saying,

“I am naturally desirous of discovering the injunctions of my
uncle, sir—this paper, no doubt, contains such—and beg to take my
leave.”

“Do so, if it is agreeable to you, sir,” returned the elder, with a
curt bow. “I had proposed to so far intrude as to inquire in reference
to your future plans, which naturally interest me, in some
measure, as I am your uncle; but since you desire to terminate this
interview abruptly, I beg you will use your pleasure.”

Harley resumed his seat.

“It will give me pleasure to speak of my plans if you think they
will interest you, sir,” he said; “I can read my uncle George's communication
later.”

“If it be not an intrusion, then, sir, permit me to ask if you propose
returning to Europe?”

“I am quite uncertain, sir. My intentions have undergone a
change in some measure.”

“Permit me to urge the desirability of your residence in Virginia.
Your estate must require your attention, and the political relations
of the colonies and the mother country are critical.”

“A controlling consideration, sir. If there be a struggle, I shall
take part in it; on which side I scarcely need say—as Virginia, not
England, is my native soil.”

Colonel Hartright grew a little less stiff.

“A further intrusion, sir. You are said to design draining, or attempting
to drain, that tract of marsh, the Blackwater Swamp.”

“Such is my intention.”

“It is madness!—a mere chimera!” cried the testy old man,
bursting forth suddenly.

“I must disagree with you, sir,” said Harley, formally, and rising
as he spoke.

“You disagree! That might be unimportant, sir; but the expense
will be enormous, and the money must come from incumbrances
on—you understand, sir!—your expectations from—the
Glenvale property.”

Harley took his hat and gloves.

“I have no such design. You will pardon me for not entering
upon that discussion at present, sir,” he said.

“But—it must be discussed, sir! It—it!—”

Colonel Hartright grew red in the face, and seemed about to explode.

“Good day, sir,” Harley said, bowing ceremoniously; and escaping
from the room, he mounted his horse, and set out at a gallop
for Huntsdon. He did not touch the paper all the way. Night
fell as he arrived, and, calling for lights, he went straight to his
chamber.

Once alone there, he tore open the paper.