 | CHAPTER IX.
THE ROGUES NO MATCH FOR THE LAWYERS. Freaks of fortune, or, The history and
adventures of Ned Lorn |  |
9. CHAPTER IX.
THE ROGUES NO MATCH FOR THE LAWYERS.
The two lawyers called first at the lodgings of Mallex,
for the purpose of instituting proceedings for the release
of Tim Trudge. It did not appear to them that his incarceration
might result in any advantage to Ned; and from
the note Persever had of Mrs. Dimple, it was to be
presumed no obstacle would be interposed.
But they did not find the stock-jobber in. The servant
informed them that he had gone to the dwelling of Mr.
Eugene Bainton.
“This will afford us an additional pretext for appearing
before Bainton,” said Persever, as they left the door and
turned involuntarily in the direction of Eugene's house.
“And I hope, by the time we arrive, he will have
Mr. Parke.
“And will have likewise ascertained that the most important
ones are missing,” continued Persever. “If such
should be the case, he will be the better prepared to answer
our purpose.”
When the legal gentleman arrived at the mansion of
Bainton, they were shown into the front parlor; and informed
that Mr. Mallex, for whom they inquired, would soon
attend them.
After a short delay, during which the quick ears of the
young lawyer could not avoid detecting a brisk colloquy
going on in the adjoining apartment, the folding doors were
thrown open, and both Mallex and Bainton advanced, and
heartily greeted their visitors. The former really wearing
over one of his eyes a green covering, but exhibiting none
of the dangerous symptoms which Dr. Castor had described.
“I am happy to meet you, Mr. Parke,” said Bainton,
after the first salutations were over. “I feared that the
accidental and unavoidable misfortunes by which we suffered
bankruptcy, might have estranged you.”
After yielding to a protracted fit of coughing, the old
man replied:
“It was natural for you to suppose so; and I will own
that at first my feelings got the better of my judgment, and
perhaps caused me to use some harsh language in regard to
your conduct. But that is past; the storm has done its
worst; and we can only pick up such fragments of the wreck
as fortune may throw within our reach, and be thankful.”
“I am rejoiced to hear you say so!” replied Bainton, in
good humor.
“Very well; get him out, then: I care not,” said Mallex.
“So that's settled,” responded Persever.
“What's settled?” asked Bainton.
“Oh, this affair of last night, I have been telling you
about,” replied Mallex.
“Ha, ha, ha! Mr. Parke, you have not been informed by
your young friend of the ridiculous occurrences of last
evening?” asked Eugene, apparently much diverted.
“Yes!” replied the old man, his face reddened either
with laughter or coughing, both seeming to struggle for the
see me; and she had me at her house this very morning.”
“Quite a Christmas adventure! And she persists in the
absurd declaration that this Ned Lorn is my sister's child?”
“And my brother's! and between you and I, I am inclined
to believe he is my brother's son, for there is certainly
a tell-tale resemblance of John. But then as to the
mother, that is quite a different thing.”
“It is a preposterous thing! Peruse this certificate, Mr.
Parke.” Eugene had taken a paper from his pocket-book
when the subject was first mentioned, which he now placed
in the hand of the old lawyer. It was a declaration that
Edward Lorn Parke, aged six years, had died of scarlet
fever on a certain day therein mentioned; and was signed
by the physician of the house of refuge.
“Nothing could be plainer!” said Mr. Parke, returning
the document. “The fact that Susan was much with my
brother's family; and having this boy, by what means obtained,
the Lord knows best; afforded a coincidence, and
furnished a face of probability for the scheme. A box of
letters, too, it seems, had been confided to her care by my
brother. I was supposed to be in a dying condition; and
you being absent, it was natural he should wish to keep
them from falling into the hands of strangers.”
“Of course!” replied Bainton, quickly. “They were
written by me, and were mine; and I will own that I visited
Susan's house last evening to demand them of her. She
was absent. I found them, however, and brought them
away. Did she not tell you that I had done so? And was
she not in a violent passion upon missing them.”
“She told me they were gone.”
“I thought so!” said Eugene with a smile of triumph.
“And she supposed it was you, from the description of
your person given by the lad, who returned while I was
there. But she was in such raptures at seeing the boy
come back, all other thoughts were banished from her mind.
And, I must say, however, even before the boy returned,
she did not lament the loss of the particular letters you
obtained.”
“Perhaps I did not get them all!” said Eugene, his
visage becoming suddenly very grave. He rang a bell, and
on the table in his chamber. When they were brought in,
he untied them with an unsteady hand, declaring he had
not yet examined them, which was true. Mallex, too,
seemed to be much interested.
“I think,” continued Mr. Parke, “that Susan said the
box contained all the letters confided to her, but two.”
“But two!” exclaimed both Mallex and Bainton.
“I think she said so. And I have reason for believing
so.”
“Oh, indeed!” said Eugene, pushing the letters on the
table aside, and ceasing to examine their post-marks. “Do
you know—did she tell you—who had them?”
“Oh, yes. It seems she had the curiosity—and what
woman has it not!—to read the letters. The two she separated
from the rest she supposed might be of some value
to one not named in the superscription. And she delivered
them with her own hands to that person, last evening.”
“And that person could be no other than—”
“Myself!” said Mr. Parke.
“I thought so!” exclaimed Mallex, pale, and evincing a
most extraordinary degree of perturbation.
“Did the letters contain anything very remarkable?”
asked Persever, addressing Mallex with perfect composure
of features.
“Have you not read them?” asked Eugene, almost
fiercely.
“Not I, sir!”
“I'm glad of it!” said Eugene, seemingly relieved from
an unpleasant apprehension. “It is natural for one to
evince a repugnance to having his private and confidential,
or even business communications, subjected to the gaze of
disinterested parties. But, really, there was nothing of
special moment in the letters, as you, sir, can testify!” he
continued, appealing to the sagacious old lawyer, with a
signification in his looks and manner, easily to be comprehended.
“Certainly not!” said Mr. Parke, decisively, “or at
most nothing unusual in the settlement of complicated business
transactions.”
“This way, if you please, sir!” said Eugene, rising and
parlour, “I presume, sir,” he continued, in a low tone,
“you can have no desire at this late day to rake up before
the gaze of the world any of our old affairs?”
“I have regarded them as finally disposed of these three
years. If I had purposed to demand an investigation, the
proper time would have been immediately after my recovery,
and before the sod was green upon my brother's grave. Are
you aware that the ruin of his fortune broke his heart? and
that his death caused your sister's?”
Bainton turned his face aside, and said, after a pause:
“It was a sad misfortune.”
“It was, indeed,” replied Mr. Parke. “And yet he had
received your last letters before he died. It seems to me
they should have revived him somewhat. In regard to
these letters—”
“What do you propose?”
“Let us throw aside all affectation,” said the old man,
unable to dissemble further. “Your friend and partner,
Mallex, knows what the letters contain—and so does my
young friend Persever, although he has not actually perused
them, as he stated. Let us have a full and unreserved discussion
and settlement. Come in, gentlemen!” he continued,
in a loud voice. “We all know the nature of this
business: let us deal openly, and with perfect candour. I
had thought to die peacably and in utter destitution. The
information the letters afford would seem to indicate that
I am not without pecuniary means. I was a partner in the
concern, and am entitled to my just proportion of the funds
which were transmitted by the Mexican banker to the United
States. This I humbly demand. Why, gentlemen,”
he continued, addressing Bainton and Mallex, “this is a
very simple affair for you. For me it is only a matter of
rejoicing and happiness, and not of defiance, menace and
hostility. Give the old man a morsel of his own bread, and
let him go with a light and thankful heart.”
“I suppose your views will be responded to freely and
cheerfully,” remarked Persever.
“There will be no grumbling, no suspicion, no further
demands?” asked Bainton.
“Have I been importunate? Am I one in love with
suspicion?”
“I think not!” said Eugene.
“We have not had cause to think so,” said Mallex.
“Then you may not apprehend any useless vexations
from me hereafter. I need but little here below, as the
poet says,” continued Mr. Parke.
“And may not need it long,” added Persever.
“A third of the thirty thousand, mentioned in the letter,”
said Eugene, forgetting that he had omitted to name
the amount in the letter, “will suffice you for a long time.”
“With his habitual economy,” said Persever, quickly,
and striving effectually to conceal his internal rapture, at
the fortunate inadvertence of the speaker. It had been a
source of regret both to Parke and his young friend that
the sum had not been definitely stated in Bainton's correspondence.
They feared he would name an inconsiderable
amount, and there might be no means of arriving at any
other result. But now the treasure was revealed; the blank
was filled up with most magnificent figures. They had
never supposed, in their most extravagant visions, it could
be so large a sum. But they concealed their inward joy
so completely, that the individuals with whom they were
treating never once doubted that the pen had previously
recorded the few words of magical import which the tongue
had so flippantly pronounced.
“And one-third of the thirty thousand you suppose will
be a just proportion?” asked Mr. Parke.
“I suppose so. Will it be satisfactory?”
“I shall not express any discontent; but yield to your
sense of what may be right.”
“There may be some claims yet unsatisfied—some creditor
not embraced in former settlements—”
“No, I believe not; said Mr. Parke, interrupting him.
“I think the sale of the effects of my brother and my own,
satisfied the utmost demands of our creditors; but left us
poor indeed.”
“Your good name was left you,” said Persever, smiling.
“Yes; and the poet thought it was of value.”
“And the money mere trash.”
“Let us not be diverted by jests, gentlemen,” said Eugene,
I take it. I feel disposed to do what is right and
proper in this business. If claims should arise against the
old firm, I presume I will not alone be held responsible,
while there is another partner on the tapis. Therefore, I
do not see why there may not be a prompt division of the
assets in hand. And it must be allowed that a sufficient
length of time has elapsed since these $30,000 have been
lying idle in your hands, Mr. Mallex, for any unsatisfied
claim to be exhibited, if such were likely ever to arise.”
“I agree with you in that opinion,” said Mallex; “and
I can testify that the money has been kept in readiness
thus long expressly to meet such a contingency. It is a
pity, however, that you did not suffer me to invest it. At
simple interest, there would have been an increase of
thousands.
“No matter. Take the pen and sign a check for one-third
of the sum belonging to Parkes and Bainton.” There
was a cunning twinkle in the stock-jobber's eye as he took
up the pen; and to prevent a significant smile from being
perceptibly developed, he was under the necessity of wounding
his lip with his teeth. Doubtless he thought that if he
were to obey the command literally, there would be a restitution
of a much heavier amount.
“It occurs to me, gentlemen,” continued Bainton, while
his eye followed the pen of Mallex, “that some might suppose
Mr. John Parke's proportion of this money should be
paid to his brother, likewise.”
“That might be a question,” said Persever.
“But I do not urge it,” said the old man.
“My sister,” said Eugene, “survived her husband; the
personal property, in default of a will, became hers; and
she being deceased, and I being her sole heir, it becomes
mine.”
“The lawyers did not demur to this; but rather suffered
the speaker to infer that his argument was conclusive.
They did not deem it prudent to intimate that the assets
in question did not come into the possession of the intestate
during his life, nor even into the widow's from whom
Bainton claimed to inherit it. Nor did they drop a hint that
the brothers Parke had furnished the whole of the capital
Bainton, according to the agreement signed by the parties,
was merely to receive one-third of the profits. They did
not even deem it necessary on that occasion to inform the
junior partner that in all settlements of such partnerships,
it was the rule of law, of right, of universal custom, for
the capital to be first returned to the parties that furnished
it, before there could be any distribution of the profits.
All these suggestions were suppressed, and Mr. Parke was
too happy to receive the check for $10,000, and sign a receipt,
not in full of all demands, but simply for that amount.
When Bainton read the receipt, he seemed disposed to
propose another form; but it was impossible for him to
summon sufficient assurance to mention such a thing to the
man he had wronged. Callous and unscrupulous as he was,
he was aware that he could not even fabricate the shadow
of a pretext for demanding a relinquishment of all claims
upon any funds that might accrue to the benefit of the firm
of Parkes and Bainton. And he likewise knew he was dealing
with men whose forbearance was more to be desired
than their enmity. Hence, after a slight hesitation, he
placed the receipt in his pocket, without uttering any comment
on the nature of its expressions.
Persever now desired to withdraw. He was apprehensive
that if the interview were prolonged, something might occur
to mar the advantage so happily gained. But Eugene
would not permit it. He wished to discuss the subject of
the young pretender, as he jocosely denominated poor Ned.
Turning to Mallex, he said:
“We had better explain the other matter, now. There
is nothing like making `clean breasts' among men who
have once differed, as a guarantee of future amity. Give
us wine!” he shouted to a servant, and then continued:
“We did resolve to get possession of this Ned Lorn, gentlemen,
although, as you are aware, we had the official
statement of the death of my nephew. But we supposed
that the remarkable coincidences, and striking concurrences,
of which you have heard, might, if the project of
the woman were persisted in, give us trouble, and subject
me to many annoyances. The mere announcement in the
papers of such pretensions being set up, would be sufficient
credit on 'change. It would certainly cause me some painful
embarrassment in the circle of my female acquaintances;
because I happen to know that a lady whom I esteem, has
long been very partial to this Susan Meek, and might be
disposed to believe her story. These were our reasons.
Drink, gentlemen!”
They did so. It was almost unavoidable. But as
Bainton had not expected their presence, and had certainly
given no whispered instructions to the servant that brought
the wine, they felt tolerably safe from poison.
| CHAPTER IX.
THE ROGUES NO MATCH FOR THE LAWYERS. Freaks of fortune, or, The history and
adventures of Ned Lorn | |