The Mighty and Their Fall

by Ivy Compton-Burnett

  “What should I have done without you?”

  “We should both have been poorly placed. We have helped each other. And I have never had return before. I shall die, knowing what it is. If I recovered, would you live with me or go back to your father?”

  “Live with you, Uncle. And see my father at times.”

  “Ah, the forces work. Nothing lives only on itself. Anything can die. And your family take no risk with you. They are on their way.”

  Hugo and Egbert and Teresa approached, and Ransom leaned back with his eyes on them.

  “Good-day. I am glad to see you. And I can offer you the person you are glad to see.”

  “Your father sends his love to you, Lavinia,” said Teresa. “And we can see he hopes to have yours.”

  “No, he has had enough of my love. I will not offer any more.”

  “He has begun to talk of you,” said Egbert. “Your desertion has added to your value.”

  “On that basis mine should be high,” said Ransom.

  “But I hardly found it was. What are you looking at, Hugo?”

  “At your house and all there is about you. A wanderer returned with provision for his needs! The situation is hardly recognised.”

  “It is what gives me a foothold. I should not have had one.”

  “You would have lived in Ninian’s house,” said Teresa. “That would have been your home.”

  “And something only a home can be. But it is a kind word.”

  “How did you make your money, Ransom?” said Hugo.

  “Not in any way that would be useful to you.”

  “No way would be. So you can admit the truth.”

  “It was in ways accepted in their time and place.”

  “So you know life,” said Egbert. “How strange that seems in Father’s brother!”

  “You have your own knowledge of it. And one I hardly feel strange in his son.”

  “Did you find Ninian changed?” said Hugo.

  “Hardly. He is not subject to change.”

  “He has had the chance to be himself.”

  “We know he was independent of it.”

  “I can’t imagine him in a secondary place.”

  “It is no good to have unnatural thoughts,” said Ransom.

  “Suppose he had been in mine?”

  “It is the place that would have been different.”

  “And I have accepted it as it is?”

  “You were not offered it as anything else.”

  “Are you a man of the world, Uncle?” said Egbert. “It is the first time I have met one.”

  “Only a man of the whole world. The other stays in his place.”

  “Then perhaps I am the other,” said Hugo.

  “Perhaps you are,” said Ransom.

  “He would be a narrower being,” said Egbert.

  “On the surface,” said Ransom. “He is deeper and more complete.”

  “Then you do wish you were one?”

  “I have wished I was equal to it.”

  “Then does Father go deep?”

  “Well, he goes to his depths.”

  “I think that is true, Uncle,” said Lavinia.

  “He has shown concern about me and my end. That gives his measure. Or gives it to me.”

  “He feels you will live on in him,” said Hugo. “I heard him say so.”

  “As a substitute for living yourself,” said Lavinia. “It is not a good one. But there is not a better.”

  “Father wishes there was,” said Egbert. “I am bound to say it.”

  “You must do justice to yourself,” said Ransom. “It is a pity when it involves doing it to someone else.”

  “Joy for yourself is not gratitude,” said Hugo.

  “It is what gives rise to it,” said Lavinia. “I don’t think there is ever any other reason.”

  “Then no wonder we dislike gratitude,” said Ransom. “Joy for yourself indeed!”

  “Do we often meet it?” said Egbert. “We keep what is ours, until we die.”

  “Well, that is something. It is not so much joy for themselves. Suppose people had any more of it!”

  “I am to have it, Egbert. To have my own home, where you can be with me. And where Uncle Hugo can come.”

  “You would have to support us both. Father would not help me.”

  “Ask him,” said Ransom. “He is coming.”

  “Without permission, Uncle? I thought he was to wait for it?”

  “It is not a thing he recognises. He has had his own.”

  “Well, is there a welcome for me?” said Ninian. “My wife and son and brothers are here. The family may as well be complete.”

  “You have left my mother,” said Ransom.

  “She has sent me for news of you. You will let me take it? And whether you want to see me or not, I am glad to see you.”

  “These are generous words. Do they spring from a generous heart? We were asking a question that may tell us. Would you allow this son enough money to live with his sister? When you have more of it yourself.”

  “No, of course I would not. They have their home, and no reason to leave it. They are only two of my five children. I have to consider them as a whole. It is what I owe to them. To do as you say would be to evade the debt.”

  “We were not talking quite like that, Father,” said Egbert.

  “I hope you were not. I would rather not think it of you.”

  “Are these words generous or not?” said Ransom. “I am not quite sure.”

  “Yours were hardly true. Is it a better thing for them to be?”

  “Send your family into the garden, Ninian. And come yourself with me. We will have a word together. We shall not have many more.”

  “I shall like to have one, Ransom. It is long since we did so. Indeed I came with a hope of it.”

  Ransom led the way into the house, and sat down with his eyes on his brother.

  “Will you do something for me?”

  “Anything. I need not say it. I would rather it was much than little.”

  “It is not a great thing. I have lived over fifty years. I do not ask much of people. If you go into the other room, you will find two documents in the chest. Will you put the earlier one on the fire, and turn the key on the other? I am able for nothing myself. The dates will strike your eye. You need not read beyond them.”

  “I should not,” said Ninian, smiling. “They are nothing to do with me. Of course I will do it, Ransom. It will be a matter of a moment. But will you not come and see it done?”

  “No, my sight is failing; my strength is gone. I use neither more than I must. You can do me the small service. I am not so enfeebled that my words do not count. Here is the key of the chest. I shall not go to it again.”

  Ninian took it and left the room, and Ransom sat with his eyes on his watch, finding that they served him.

  “Too simple,” he said to himself. “Too simple to hold any reason. But people who have power respond simply. They know no minds but their own.”

  “Thank you,” he said, when Ninian returned. “Now it is done and can be forgotten.”

  “Yes, put such things from your thoughts. They are not in anyone else’s. And there may be time for many changes.”

  “What things?” said Ransom easily. “Changes in what?”

  “In your will. I saw what the documents were. I could hardly keep my eyes from them. And I had seen wills before.”

  “There is not much time. So I will have the key of the chest. It may soon be wanted.”

  “Oh, had I not better keep it? Then I should have it in case of need.”

  “It has its place. It will easily be found. The people in the house will know.”

  Ninian took the key from a pocket of his purse.

  “You would have kept it safe,” said Ransom.

  “Yes, I am used to matters of trust. I have met with many.”

  They talked for a while, Ninian with life, and Ransom feebly, with his eyes on his brother. When t
he others came in to say good-bye, he spoke again to him.

  “Stay for a time, Ninian. You want to see your girl. Take them to the gate and come back to me.”

  “I will stay indeed. It is what I should choose to do. Mother will be glad to hear of it.”

  Ninian remained for a while at the gate, and returned to the house with his daughter. Ransom was sitting in the same chair, with a difference in himself. He waited until they were seated, and turned to a table and took up a document.

  “This is not the will with the later date, Ninian.”

  “Isn’t it? What is it?” said his brother, leaning forward. “Is it some other will? Yes, the date is earlier. How many did you make?”

  “The two that you saw. This is the one you should have burnt.”

  “Yes, I put it on the fire. What of it? This is another?”

  “You know which it is. It is the one that should be ashes. I have been to the chest and found it.”

  “Ah, so you are not so feeble as you claim to be,” said Ninian, smiling and shaking his head. “And I am glad of it, Ransom. It is good news. I hope it marks a turning-point in your health. Now what of the wills? Earlier and later! Later and earlier! You have found another and are puzzled by it.”

  “I have found this one. The one you should have destroyed. I forced myself to reach the chest. I had a feeling that I should do so. And it was a sound one.”

  “You mistrusted me and my preoccupations? Then why did you give me such a charge?”

  “No one would be inattentive in a matter like this.”

  “Well, did I make a muddle?” said Ninian, drawing in his brows. “Is this the will from the chest or another one?”

  “You know there is no other. It is the will I asked you to burn. The will with the earlier date. The will that leaves everything to you. The ashes of the other are in the grate.”

  “Why do you not do your own work, if you are so equal to it?”

  “I am equal to nothing. You know my state. This effort is my last.”

  Ninian remained with his eyes contracted on the will.

  “There is nothing amiss with your sight. It is the kind that is good for reading. And you found it good.”

  “Then there is something amiss with me,” said Ninian lightly. “There must be, if you say the truth. I must have had a fit of mental blankness. I do have them at times. There is a good deal of strain in my life.”

  “Then you stand it well. For you had a bout of something else. You read the wills quickly, and as quickly made up your mind. You thought I should not go to the desk, but took the key as a precaution. It was a moral blankness that fell on you. Your brain was doing its work.”

  “You cannot know what you are implying, Ransom.”

  “Well, you know. And so does Lavinia. That is enough. And I am implying nothing. I have used plain words.”

  “I had no time to read two wills. They are the last things to read at a glance. They are so obscured by legal jargon.”

  “You had time. I measured the minutes. You are familiar with them, as you said. And these were short and clear.”

  “You have no proof of what you say. None that would count in a court of law.”

  “It counts in this house. And that is where we are.”

  “You can’t really think that I read them. This is just an act.”

  “If you can tell me what is in this one, I will let it stand.”

  Ninian smiled and shook his head.

  “Then I will make the other again.”

  “I do not grudge anyone what you leave her. I should wish the choice to be yours.”

  “Her? And you did not read the wills.”

  “Oh, it was an obvious guess. Anyone would have made it.”

  “It was a slip, not a guess. It is hard to keep a hold on everything. Both of you found it so. Neither of you is versed in ill-doing. Each of you has something of the other.”

  “Are you versed in it yourself, Ransom? That you prepare the way for it for someone else? It was a poor idea. Are you not ashamed of it?”

  “I am not as ashamed as you must be. As I see you are. But we do not leave the matter there. You know what should be said: we have heard you say it; you have done our part. But you have not done your own. You have still to admit the truth.”

  “Well, then we are a pair, Lavinia and I,” said Ninian, putting an arm about his daughter. “She thought it best to prevent my marriage. I thought it best to save her and others from her having powers beyond her. We meant well by each other and by those about us. And if we meant well by ourselves too, well, it was hardly being done for us. We could not help the breach of faith. I see now that she could not help it. Only we know how much we wished we could. We should be drawn closer, if we were not already so close.”

  “So I have done what I wanted,” said his brother.

  “It was an unworthy thought, to put temptation in someone’s way. To set a trap where it would not be suspected. Neither she nor I would have done it. Our trial was thrust upon us; hers by the hand of chance, mine by that of a brother. Which is the sadder thing?”

  “So you are in the pulpit, Ninian? You feel it is your place?”

  “You have been in it yourself. And it emerges that it is not yours.”

  “Because I trusted my brother?”

  “Because you did not trust him. And so exposed him to something that assumed trust. I might have read your thought. To fail was simple of me.”

  “It was your saving grace. It showed you believed in innocence. That means you are not without it.”

  “And you do not believe in it?”

  “Well, have I met it? Here in this kind of place? In many parts it would have no meaning.”

  “Is everyone to know of this?” said Lavinia.

  “When you were in similar trouble, everyone knew,” said her uncle.

  There was a pause.

  “No one need know of it,” said Ninian, in a gentle tone. “No one should know. A wrong meaning would be read into it. My motives would be misjudged, as they have already been. There is no point in essential falseness.”

  “They do say that honesty is best,” said Ransom.

  “Ransom, you left us for many years. You came back to find welcome, affection, support. Is this your return?”

  “Yes, it is. I make it to the girl. You get your reward as her father.”

  “A part of what you have would give her freedom, if that is what you want.”

  “So you know what I have,” said Ransom, smiling. “You have not learned it from me. And you see what I want. And I see what you do. And if I am the one to have it, well, I am to have nothing else.”

  “She might marry and take the money from the place. Then you would not have saved it.”

  “I should have saved her,” said Ransom.

  “She is too young and untried for such a position.”

  “She will grow older; and to my mind she has been tried.”

  “You were to leave everything to me. You came home with that intention.”

  “It is true. And in the will you preserved, I did so. In the other I left it to Lavinia, to make my test of you a real one. You see I had a certain trust in you. I shall now make a third, leaving it equally between you.”

  “Oh, leave it all to her. It is what you want. And you have every right to do it. I should rather like to expiate an alien impulse by a natural sacrifice. It puts things in a truer light.”

  “That is your real word? And your last one?”

  “If it were not, should I say it? It would carry too great a risk.”

  “Then mind you never forget it.”

  There was a pause.

  “Well, shall I destroy this will for you?” said Ninian, in another tone. “It will serve no purpose.”

  “No, I will not trouble you again. And it will be a foundation for the next. It will supply the legal jargon.”

  “Well, destroy it in the end. We don’t want it lying about.”

  “N
o, people might seek a reason for the change.”

  “No. Your feeling for Lavinia was enough. It is known that you have none for me. But gossip is to be avoided.”

  “It is the chief of my pleasures,” said another voice. “And few people take your view of it.”

  “Who is at the door?” said Lavinia. “I thought it was ajar.”

  “Other people were more fortunate,” said Ransom. “They knew it was.”

  “So you have been eavesdropping,” said Ninian, in a stern tone.

  “No, that is hardly true,” said Hugo. “We came back on an errand, and found ourselves rooted to the spot. What else could have happened to us?”

  “My word was the right one. Well, I need not mind any exposure of myself. No one is any better placed. I had both reason and temptation on my side. You had neither.”

  “They had the last,” said Ransom. “And it proved too strong. That appears to be its tendency.”

  “Or what would be its relation to us?” said Lavinia. “It seems to have no other.”

  “So it is a matter for jest,” said Ninian. “Well, it was not for me. I met it and felt I did better to yield to it. It was in a way a temptation not to yield. It would have spared me much.”

  “I have never felt that sort of temptation,” said Hugo. “Perhaps I am above some kinds of it.”

  “You are silent, Egbert,” said Ninian. “What have you to say to me?”

  “Very little, Father. It is true that we left you and returned. But we might have stayed, as you did. We could not foresee what was to come.”

  “You knew we did not see you. You were hidden by the door.”

  “Not quite,” said Hugo. “Lavinia saw it was ajar. I feel that was honest of us.”

  “I am talking to Egbert,” said Ninian.

  “I am coming to his help. We were petrified and unable to stir.”

  “Well, that is almost the truth, Father.”

  “It could be put in other words. But we will not press on each other. We all learn by our stumbles. I am not above doing so.”

  “Learning in that way seems hard on other people,” said Lavinia. “Does it suggest an inordinate desire for self-improvement?”

  “So it is all a jest,” said Ninian, again. “Well, I see it has that side. We need only say one more word. We must forget it and keep our own counsel.”