Complete Works of Stanley J Weyman

by Stanley J Weyman

  “The old man was ailing in his limbs at this time, but his mind was as clear as ever, and his grip of the land as tight. He could not bear, now that his sons were dead, that anyone should come after him. I am thinking that he would be taking everyone for a body-bird. Still the family were forward with presents and such like, and helped him perhaps about the farm; so that though there was talk in the village, no one could say what will he would make.

  “YOU HAVE BEEN COURTING.”

  “However, one day toward winter Miss Peggy came in late from a walk, and found the old man very cross. ‘Where have you been?’ he cried angrily. Then without any warning, ‘You have been courting,’ he said, ‘with that fine gentleman from the shop?’

  “‘Well,’ my lady replied, putting a brave face upon it, as was her way, ‘and what then, grandfather? I am not ashamed of it.’

  “‘You ought to be!’ he cried, banging his stick upon the floor. ‘Do you think that he will marry you?’

  “‘Yes, I do,’ she replied stoutly. ‘He has told you so to-day, I know.’

  “Robert Evans laughed, but his laugh was not a pleasant one. ‘You are right,’ he said. ‘He has told me. He was very forward to tell me. He thought I was going to leave you my money. But I am not! Mind you that, my girl.’

  “‘Very well,’ she answered, white and red by turns.

  “‘You will remember that you are no relation of mine!’ he went on viciously, for he had grown very crabbed of late. ‘And I am not going to leave you money. He is after my money. He is nothing but a fortune-catcher!’

  “‘He is not!’ she exclaimed, as hot as fire, and began to put on her hat again.

  “‘Very well! We shall see!’ answered Robert Evans. ‘Do you tell him what I say, and see if he will marry you. Go! Go now, girl, and you need not come back! You will get nothing by staying here!’ he cried, for what with his jealousy and the mention of money he was furious— ‘not a penny! You had better be off at once!’

  “She did not answer for a minute or so, but she seemed to change her mind about going, for she laid down her hat, and went about the house place getting tea ready — and no doubt her fingers trembled a little — until the old man cried, ‘Well, why don’t you go? You will get nothing by staying.’

  “‘I shall stay to take care of you all the same,’ she answered quietly. ‘You need not leave me anything, and then — and then I shall know whether you are right.’

  “‘Do you mean it?’ asked he sharply, after looking at her in silence for a moment.

  “‘Yes,’ said she.

  “‘Then it’s a bargain!’ cried Robert Evans— ‘it’s a bargain!’ And he said not a word more about it, but took his tea from her and talked of the Llewellyn Evanses, who had been to pay him a visit that day. It seemed, however, as if the matter had upset him, for he had to be helped to bed, and complained a good deal, neither of which things were usual with him.

  “Well, it is not unlikely that the young lady promised herself to tell her lover all about it next day, and looked to hear many times over from his own lips that it was not her money he wanted. But this was not to be, for early the next morning Gwen Madoc was at her door.

  “‘You are to get up, miss,’ she said. ‘The master wants you to go to London by the first train.’

  “‘To London!’ cried Peggy, very much astonished. ‘Is he ill? Is anything the matter, Gwen?’

  “‘No,’ answered the old woman very short. ‘It is just that.’

  “And when the girl, having dressed hastily, came down to Robert Evans’ room, she found that this was pretty nearly all she was to learn. ‘You will go to Mrs. Richard Evans, who lives at Islington,’ he said, as if he had been thinking about it all night. ‘She is my second cousin, and will find house room for you, and make no charge. A telegram shall be sent to her this morning. To-morrow you will take this packet to the address upon it, and the next day a packet will be returned to you, which you will bring back to me. I am not well to-day, and I want to have the matter settled and off my mind, Peggy.’

  “‘But could not someone else go, if you are not well?’ she objected, ‘and I will stop and take care of you.’

  “He grew very angry at that. ‘Do as you are bidden, girl,’ he said. ‘I shall see the doctor to-day, and for the rest, Gwen can do for me. I am well enough. Do you look to the papers. Richard Evans owes me money, and will make no charge for your living.’

  “So Miss Peggy had her breakfast, and in a wonderfully short time, as it seemed to her, was on the way to London, with plenty of leisure on her hands for thinking — very likely for doubting and fearing as well. She had not seen her sweetheart, that was one thing. She had been dispatched in a hurry, that was another. And then, to be sure, the big town was strange to her.

  “However, nothing happened there, I may tell you. But on the third morning she received a short note from Gwen Madoc, and suddenly rose from breakfast with Mrs. Richard, her face very white. There was news in the letter — news of which all the neighborhood for miles round Court was by that time full. Robert Evans, if you will believe it, was dead. After ailing for a few hours he had died, with only Gwen Madoc to smooth his pillow.

  “It was late when she reached the nearest station to Court on her way back, and found a pony trap waiting for her. She was stepping into it when Mr. Griffith Hughes, the lawyer, saw her, and came up to speak.

  “‘I am sorry to have bad news for you, Miss McNeill,’ he said in a low voice, for he was a kind man, and what with the shock and the long journey she was looking very pale.

  “‘Oh, yes!’ she answered, with a sort of weary surprise; ‘I know it already. That is why I am come home — to Court, I mean.’

  “He saw that she was thinking only of Robert Evans’ death, which was not what was in his mind. ‘It is about the will,’ he said in a whisper, though he need not have been so careful, for everyone in the neighborhood had learned all about it from Gwen Madoc. ‘It is a cruel will. I would not have made it for him, my dear. He has left Court to the Llewellyn Evanses, and the money between the Evanses of Nant and the Evan Bevans.’

  “‘It is quite right,’ she answered, so calmly that he stared. ‘My grandfather explained it to me. I fully understood that I was not to be in the will.’

  “Mr. Hughes looked more and more puzzled. ‘Oh, but,’ he replied, ‘it is not so bad as that. Your name is in the will. He has laid it upon those who get the land and money to provide for you — to settle a proper income upon you. And you may depend upon me for doing my best to have his wishes carried out, my dear.’

  “The young lady turned very red, and raised her eyes sharply.

  “‘Who are to provide for me?’ she asked.

  “‘The three families who divide the estate,’ he said.

  “‘And are they obliged to do so?’

  “‘Well — no,’ said he unwillingly. ‘I am not sure that they are exactly obliged. But no doubt — —’

  “‘I doubt very much,’ she answered, taking him up with a smile. And then she shook hands with him and drove away, leaving him wondering at her courage.

  “Well, you may suppose it was a dreary house to which she came home. Mr. Griffith Hughes, who was executor, had been before the Llewellyn Evanses in taking possession, so that, besides a lad or two in the kitchen, there were only Gwen Madoc and the servant there, and they seemed to have very little to tell her about the death. When she had heard what they had to say, and they were all on their way to bed, ‘Gwen,’ she said softly, ‘I think I should like to see him.’

  “‘So you shall, to-morrow, honey,’ answered the old woman. ‘But do you know, bach, that he has left you nothing?’ and she held up her candle suddenly, so as to throw the light on the girl’s tired face.

  “‘Oh!’ she answered, with a shudder, ‘how can you talk about that now?’ But presently she had another question ready. ‘Have you seen Mr. Venmore since — since my grandfather’s death, Gwen?’ she asked timidly.

 
; “‘Yes, indeed, bach,’ answered the housekeeper. ‘I met him at the door of the shop this morning. I told him where you were, and that you would be back tonight. And about the will, moreover.’

  “The girl stopped at her own door and snuffed her candle. Gwen Madoc went slowly up the next flight, groaning over the steepness of the stairs. Then she turned to say good-night. The girl was at her side again, her eyes shining in the light of the two candles.

  “‘Oh, Gwen,’ she whispered breathlessly, ‘didn’t he say anything?’

  “‘Not a word, bach,’ answered the old woman, stroking her hair tenderly. ‘He just went into the house in a hurry.’

  “Miss Peggy went into her room much in the same way. No doubt she would be telling herself a great many times over before she slept that he would come and see her in the morning; and in the morning she would be saying, ‘He will come in the afternoon;’ and in the afternoon, ‘He will come in the evening.’ But evening came, and darkness, and still he did not appear. Then she could endure it no longer. She let herself out of the front door, which there was no one now to use but herself, and with a shawl over her head ran all the way down to the shop. There was no light in his window upstairs: but at the back door stood Mrs. Campbell, looking after someone who had just left her.

  “The girl came, strangely shrinking at the last moment, into the ring of light about the door. ‘Why, Miss McNeill!’ cried the other, starting visibly at sight of her. ‘Is it you, honey? And are you alone?’

  “‘Yes; and I cannot stop. But oh, Mrs. Campbell, where is Mr. Venmore?’

  “‘I know no more than yourself, my dear,’ said the good woman reluctantly. ‘He went from here yesterday on a sudden — to take the train, I understood.’

  “‘Yesterday? When? At what time, please?’ asked the young lady. There was a fear, which she had been putting from her all day. It was getting a footing now.

  “‘Well, it would be about midday. I know it was just after Gwen Madoc called in about the — —’

  “But the girl was gone. It was not to Mrs. Campbell she could make a moan. It was only the night wind that caught the ‘Oh, cruel! cruel!’ which broke from her as she went up the hill. Whether she slept that night at all I am not able to say. Only that when it was dawn she was out upon the cliffs, her face very white and sad-looking. The fishermen who were up early, going out with the ebb, saw her at times walking fast and then standing still and looking seaward. But I do not know what she was thinking, only I should fancy that the gulls had a different cry for her now, and it is certain that when she had returned and came down into the parlor at Court for the funeral, there were none of the Evanses could look her in the face with comfort.

  “They were all there, of course. Mr. Llewellyn Evans — he was an elderly man, with a gray beard like a bird’s nest, and very thick lips — was sitting with his wife on the horsehair sofa. The Evanses of Nant, who were young men with lank faces and black hair combed upward, were by the door. The Evan Bevans were at the table; and there were others, besides Mr. Griffith Hughes, who was undoing some papers when she entered.

  “He rose and shook hands with her, marking pitifully the dark hollows under her eyes, and inwardly confirming his resolution to get her a substantial settlement. Then he hesitated, looking doubtfully at the others. ‘We are going to read the will before the funeral instead of afterward,’ he said.

  “‘Oh!’ she answered, taken aback — for in truth she had forgotten all about the will. ‘I did not know. I will go, and come back later.’

  “‘No, indeed!’ cried Mrs. Llewellyn Evans, ‘you had better stop and hear the will — though no relation, to be sure.’

  “But at that moment Gwen Madoc came in, and peered round with a grim air of importance. ‘Maybe someone,’ she said in a low voice, ‘would like to take a last look at the poor master?’

  “But no one moved. They sighed and shook their heads at one another as if they would like to do so — but no one moved. They were anxious, you see, to hear the will. Only Peggy, who had turned to go out, said, ‘Yes, Gwen, I should,’ and slipped out with the old woman.

  “‘There is nothing to keep us now?’ said Mr. Hughes briskly when the door was closed again. And everyone nodding assent the lawyer went on to read the will, which was not a long one. It was received with a murmur of satisfaction, and much use of pocket-handkerchiefs.

  “‘Very fair!’ said Mr. Llewellyn Evans, ‘He was a clever man, our old friend.’ All the legatees murmured after him ‘Very fair!’ and a word went round about the home-brewed, and Robert Evans’ recipe for it. Then Llewellyn, who thought he ought to be taking the lead at Court now, said it was about time to be going to church.

  “‘There is one matter,’ put in Mr. Griffith Hughes, ‘which I think ought to be settled while we are all together. You see that there is a — what I may call a charge on the three main portions of the property in favor of Miss McNeill.’

  “‘Indeed, but what is that you are saying?’ cried Llewellyn sharply. ‘Do you mean that there is a rent charge?’

  “‘Not exactly a rent charge,’ said the lawyer.

  “‘No!’ cried Llewellyn with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Nor any obligation in law, sir?’

  “‘Well, no,’ assented Mr. Hughes grudgingly.

  “‘Then,’ said Llewellyn Evans, getting up and putting his hands in his pockets, while he winked at the others, ‘we will talk of that another time.’

  “But Mr. Hughes said, ‘No!’ He was a kind man, and very anxious to do the best for the girl, but he somewhat lost his temper. ‘No!’ he said, growing red. ‘You will observe, if you please, Mr. Evans, that the testator says, “Forthwith — forthwith.” So that, as sole executor, it is my duty to ask you to state your intentions now.’

  “‘Well, indeed, then,’ said Llewellyn, changing his face to a kind of blank, ‘I have no intentions. I think that the family has done more than enough for the girl already.’

  “And he would say no otherwise. Nor was it to any purpose that the lawyer looked at Mrs. Llewellyn. She was examining the furniture, and feeling the stuffing of the sofa, and did not seem to hear. He could make nothing of the three Evanses, Nant. They all cried, ‘Yes, indeed!’ to what Llewellyn said. Only the Evan Bevans remained, and he turned to them in despair.

  “‘I am sure,’ he said, addressing himself to them, ‘that you will do something to carry out the testator’s wishes? Your share under the will, Mr. Bevan, will amount to three hundred a year. This young lady has nothing — no relations, no home. May I take it that you will settle — say fifty pounds a year upon her? It need only be for her life.’

  “Mr. Bevan fidgeted under this appeal. His wife answered it. ‘Certainly not, Mr. Hughes. If it were twenty pounds now, once for all, or even twenty-five — and Llewellyn and my nephews would say the same — I think we might manage that?’

  “But Llewellyn shook his head obstinately. ‘I have said I have no intentions, and I am a man of my word!’ he answered. ‘Let the girl go out to service. It is what we have always wanted her to do. Here are my nephews. They won’t mind a young housekeeper.’

  “Well, they all laughed at this except Mr. Hughes, who gathered up his papers looking very black, and not thinking of future clients. Llewellyn, however, did not care a bit for that, but walked to the bell, masterful-like, and rang it. ‘Tell the undertaker,’ he said to the servant, ‘that we are ready.’

  “It was as if the words had been a signal, for they were followed almost immediately by an outcry overhead and quick running upon the stairs. The legatees looked uncomfortably at the carpet: the lawyer was blacker than before. He said to himself, ‘Now that poor child has fainted!’ The confusion seemed to last some minutes. Then the door was opened, not by the undertaker, but by Gwen Madoc. The mourners rose with a sigh of relief; to their surprise she passed by even Llewellyn, and with a frightened face walked across to the lawyer. She whispered something in his ear.

  “‘What!’ he cried, startin
g back a pace from her, and speaking so that the wine-glasses on the table rattled again. ‘Do you know what you are saying, woman?’

  “‘It is true,’ she answered, half crying, ‘and no fault indeed of mine neither.’

  “Gwen added more in quick, short sentences, which the family, strain their ears as they might, could not overhear.

  “‘I will come! I will come!’ cried the lawyer. He waved his hand to them as a sign to make room for her to pass out. Then he turned to them, a queer look upon his face; it was not triumph altogether, for there was discomfiture and apprehension in it as well. ‘You will believe me, he said, ‘that I am as much taken aback as yourselves — that till this moment I have been honestly as much in the dark as anyone. It seems — so I am told — that our old friend is not dead.’

  “‘What!’ cried Llewellyn in his turn. ‘What do you mean?’ and he raised his black-gloved hands as in refutation.

  “‘What I say,’ replied Mr. Hughes patiently. ‘I hear — wonderful as it sounds — that he is not dead. Something about a trance, I believe — a mistake happily discovered in time. I tell you all I know; and however it comes about, it is clear we ought to be glad that Mr. Robert Evans is spared to us.’

  “With that he was glad to escape from the room. I am told that their faces were very strange to see. There was a long silence. Llewellyn was the first to speak: He swore a big oath and banged his great hand upon the table. ‘I don’t ‘believe it!’ he cried. ‘I don’t believe it! It is a trick!’

  “But as he spoke the door opened behind him, and he and all turned to see what they had never thought to see, I am sure. They had come to walk in Robert Evans’ funeral; and here was the gaunt, stooping form of Robert Evans himself coming in, with an arm of Gwen Madoc on one side and of Miss Peggy on the other — Robert Evans beyond doubt, alive. Behind him were the lawyer and Dr. Jones, a smile on their lips, and three or four women half frightened, half wondering.