XIX.
I observed a change in him. Something of his inner life was reflectedin his face, the expression upon which was stern and moody. Itsoftened a little when he shook me by the hand. I asked him if he waswell, and he answered yes, but troubled by a strange presentiment ofevil. He remarked that he was on the eve of momentous circumstances inhis life which boded ill. I did not encourage him to indulge in thisvein, but proceeded to relate as much of my interview with Mrs.Fortress as I deemed it wise and necessary to impart. He listened tome patiently and reflectively, and when I had finished, said:
"You have given me food for reflection. I have in you a confidence soperfect that I place myself unreservedly in your hands. I will beguided completely by your counsels; my confidence in myself is muchshaken. What do you advise?"
"This is the study," I said, "which your father used to occupy?"
"It is," he replied; "and no person was allowed to enter it withouthis permission."
"After his death you searched in it for his private papers?"
"I did, and found very little to satisfy me. I hoped to discoversomething which would throw light upon the strange habits of our lifeand home. I was disappointed."
At my request he showed me the method by which the safe was opened,and the ingenuity of the device caused me to wonder that he had foundnothing of importance within its walls. I was, however, convinced thatthere was in the study some clue to the mystery of Carew's boyhood'shome--although I could not help admitting to myself that it needed butfaith in Mrs. Fortress's statement to arrive at a correct solution.But I required further evidence, and I resolved to search for it.
"As you have placed yourself in my hands," I said, "you will notobject to comply with two or three slight requests."
"There is little you can ask," was his response, "that I am not readyto accede to."
"Invite me to remain here as your guest for a few days."
"I do."
"Allow me to occupy this room alone until I retire to bed."
"Willingly."
"And promise me that you will not leave the house without firstacquainting me of your intention."
"I promise."
A little while afterwards he left me to myself, saying that if Iwished to see him I should find him with his wife. When he revealed tome the secret method by which the safe was worked, he did not closethe panel; it remained open for my inspection, and I now made anexamination of the interior without finding so much as a scrap ofpaper. This was as I expected; if Gabriel Carew's father leftdocuments behind him, they must be searched for elsewhere. A carefulstudy of the room led me to the conclusion that the massivewriting-table was the most likely depository. The working of the safewas a process much too tedious for a man who wished for easy access tohis papers; the writing-table offered the means of this, and I turnedmy attention to it. I do not wish to be prolix, and I therefore omit adescription of the painfully careful examination of every point inthis massive piece of furniture. Suffice it that, after at least anhour's search, my endeavours were rewarded. In one of the legs of thetable on the inner side, quite undiscoverable without a light, I felta depression just large enough to receive the ball of my thumb. Ipressed hard, and although there was no immediate result, I fancied Idetected a slight yielding, such as might occur when pressing upon afirm spring which had been disused for many years. I pressed harder,with all my strength, and I suddenly heard a sharp click. I found thatthis proceeded from the skirting of oak immediately above the leg Iwas manipulating. I had carefully examined the skirting all round thetable without being able to discover any signs of a drawer. Now,however, one had started forward, and I had no difficulty in pullingit open. My heart beat more quickly as I drew from it a manuscriptbook and a few loose sheets of foolscap paper. The writing was largeand plain; ink of such a quality had been used that the lapse of yearshad had but a slight effect upon it. In less than a minute I satisfiedmyself that the handwriting was that of Gabriel Carew's father.
The book first. I read it attentively through. It was a record of thecircumstances of the married life of Gabriel Carew's parents, and suchof it as bore upon Mrs. Fortress's statement confirmed its truth inevery particular. Before I came to the end of this record I heardGabriel Carew calling to me outside. I hastily concealed the book andpapers, and went to the door.
"I would not come upon you unawares," he said, "but it has occurred tome that to leave you even partially in the dark would not beingenuous, and might frustrate the end we both have in view. Before Iwas married I wrote what may be regarded as a history of my life up tothat period. There are in it no reservations or concealments of anykind whatever. Not alone my outer but my inner life is laid baretherein; it is an absolutely faithful and truthful record. Since Iwrote the last words of this personal history I have not glanced atit. I hand it now to you with one stipulation. So long as I am aliveyou will not reveal what I have written. Should I die before you Ileave it to your discretion to deal with it as you please. Anotherthing. I ought to more frankly explain why I put you in possession ofsecrets which no man, unless under unusual and extraordinarycircumstances, would impart to another. I have been all my lifeanimated by a strong spirit of justice to others as well as to myself.By this inclusion of myself I mean that I should be as ready tocondemn myself and to mete out to myself a penalty I may consciouslyor unconsciously have incurred as I would to any ordinary person. I amalso animated by a sincere and devoted love for my wife and child.Were I asked to express the dearest wish of my heart I should answer,the wish for their happiness. But even this must not be purchased atthe expense of a possible wrong to another human being. There existsbetween your son and my daughter an affection which has been allowedto ripen into love. Whether we have been wise time will prove. Youhave, equally with myself, the welfare of your child at heart. Youhave doubts; let them be fully resolved. I need say no more than thatI am convinced that these feeble words of mine--which to strangerswould be inexplicable--will help us to understand each other."
He left me alone once more, not waiting for me to speak, and I feltfor him as deep a sentiment of pity and admiration as had ever beenexcited within me. He had also magnetised me into sharing his beliefthat momentous circumstances were about to occur in his life whichwould affect mine and my son's. It could not be otherwise in the lightof the love which Reginald bore for Mildred.
I did not resume the perusal of the record made by Carew's father; Iheld my curiosity in check both as regards that and what was writtenon the two sheets of foolscap paper. Commencing to read the personalhistory which Gabriel Carew had composed, I became so fascinated by itthat I could not leave it. Mrs. Carew sent to ask me to join them atdinner, but I begged to be excused, and wine and food were brought tome in the study. I remained there undisturbed, engrossed in GabrielCarew's narrative, and it was late in the night when I reached theend. Then with feelings which it is impossible for me to describe, Iturned to the record made by Carew's father, and finished it. Noopinions were therein expressed; there was no indulgence in theory orspeculation; it was a simple statement of fact. The conclusionsarrived at by Carew's father were set down on the sheets of foolscap,which next claimed my attention. They ran as follows:--
A Secret Inheritance (Volume 3 of 3) Page 13