The Last of the Dynmokes. A novel

Chapter I

" "\/"OU idiot ! You have ruined everything ! " -L " Softly, Mr. Hartley, if you please," retorted Truscott. " Remember, if a mistake has been made, it is your own. The summons which brought me here came from you, and if it was really an error, you, and not I, are to blame. I flatter myself that I extricated both of us rather cleverly from the situation, which threatened to become trying." " Trying ! what will you say next ? " exclaimed Aaron. " Nothing — except that for all the help you vol. in. gave me, you might not have been there. If any one suspects that I am, or have been, in communication with you, you have no one but yourself to thank for it," answered Truscott coolly. Aaron Hartley bit his lip. He was forced to own there was something in what the other said, but he was not going to gratify his young friend by admitting it.

It was no part of Aaron's plan that his intended tool should begin by getting the upper hand of him. They were conversing on the terrace, as the doctor from his point of vantage could see. What the lawyer had gone through since' he discovered Truscott in the Abbey, no one but himself knew. Rage, disappointment, fear, and mortification had succeeded each other in turn, so that in his dire distress he had been quite unable to do justice to the skill with which the other had got out of his difficult position. Aaron had been bottling up his wrath all through luncheon, and here he was at the very outset coolly told that if there was a mistake it was his own. For a moment or two they walked side by side in silence. Then Aaron turned to his companion and asked savagely — " Whatever made you come ?

" " Your own prearranged notice," answered Truscott. " But we were to meet in Preston first of all." " True. But when I reached the rendezvous you never appeared. I waited the whole morning for you. I could hardly do more." " You presumed too much. You ought to have waited till I came, and on no account have moved without orders," said Aaron savagely. " Wait a moment, Hartley," replied Truscott. " It is perhaps better that you and I should understand each other at once. I totally refuse to admit your right to order me about. I am my own master." " You are what ? " exclaimed Aaron. "My own master." " You are very greatly in error, young gentleman," retorted the lawyer. " You are not your own master. You are my servant." " You never made a greater mistake in your life, friend Hartley," replied Truscott, with an air of imperturbable good-humour.

" Mistake ! " growled Aaron. " It is you wdio make the mistake. What would you say if I had you turned straight out of the house as an impostor ? " Truscott laughed merrily. " How do you propose to do that ? " he asked. " By saying what you are, and where you come from." " Granted I came from a travellinoshow7. Admitting even further that I am a broken down gentleman — what then ? There is nothing inconsistent with my present position in that." " Is there not ? " asked Aaron Hartley with a sneer. " Do you suppose the Squire is going to acknowledge a man half quack, half mountebank as his grandson \ " " Why not — if that grandson has the means of proving his identity ? " asked Truscott coolly, as he lighted a fresh cigar. " May I offer you No ? You don't smoke. Well, you ought to; you'd find it soothe your nerves, and pardon my adding, your temper."

The last remark nearly caused a fierce out break on the part of Aaron, who was rapidly becoming beside himself with rage and morti fication at finding that he could not bully his accomplice. " Keep to the point," he said fiercely. " How would you prove your identity ? " Truscott turned to him with an air of well feigned surprise. " You don't suppose I was such a fool as to come here without papers to support my case ? " he asked. " Papers ! " and Aaron gave a loud guffaw. " I should think / ought to know the value of them ! " " And so do I, friend Hartley," said Truscott. " They are in perfect order down to the date of my father's marriage and my birth. It was very fortunate that you kept them for me. " Suppose I go to the Squire and tell him thev are all forgeries ? " said Aaron. " Forgeries ! — that's a very ugly word," answered Truscott.

" I have been greatly deceived if they are not true and regular documents. No, no, Aaron Hartley, you have no intention of going to my grandfather for two good reasons. The first is you can't, the second is you won't." "Y can and I ivill," retorted Aaron, mock ingly, " as you w7ill discover to your cost if you persist in behaving like this." " Come, come, Hartley, you are a very foolish man," answered Truscott. " See, here is a bench — sit down. The weather is wintry, but in your present state of heat you won't take cold. I want to tell you a little about myself." Aaron seated himself beside the young fellow, saying as he did so — " Get on with your story. Mind you, Truscott, this is all fooling on your part, costly fooling, as you are going to find out sooner than you like." " I doubt it," w7as the other's reply.

" Now, Hartley, here is an instructive story for you. I was born the son of a gentleman — you need not sniff. It is true ; I lost my father when I was in long clothes. My mother was always very reticent about my father's past. Thanks, however, to her side of the family, on coming of age I had a comfortable fortune to spend, and set to work so religiously to get rid of it, that by the time I was nine-and-twenty I was a besfo-ar. Just at this time I came across a DO kind good fellow, who was a quack doctor, or purveyor of quack medicines if you like " " Meaning that drunken fool, Jamieson," growled Aaron. The other cast a quick look at him. " There you are quite wrong. Jamieson is certainly not a fool, and during the year I lived with him I never saw him drink too much " (Aaron grinned to express his doubts of this last statement).

" However, to resume, I lived with him for a year, when one day I received a note from an old friend of my father's " "Meaning me," said Aaron, with another grin. "Exactly, — who asked me to meet him, and placed in my hands papers which conclusively proved that I was the grandson of Jasper Dynmoke of Rawthorpe Abbey. He, however, advised me to wait till my grandfather's death before I presented my claims, as that excellent old gentleman had not been on very friendly terms with his only son, and had the power, if he wished, of leaving me as little as I had before. Am I right ? " " Go on. I'm sick of all this nonsense." " I'm sorry to hear it, Hartley. However, to cut a long story short, a false alarm of the old gentleman's death brings me here, and I am placed in a nice predicament, from which I manage to extricate myself, and am invited by my grandfather to stay in the house.

That is all, Aaron Hartley." " No, it is not. What if I tell you that all the documents are forged, the story of your father being a Dynmoke untrue ? " asked Aaron triumphantly. " I don't believe you, Hartley," replied Truscott coolly. "The papers are quite regular, the circumstances all tally. It will take more than your word, my friend, to make me believe my claims, my just, properly supported claims, fictitious." Aaron's face grew dark. Of all that had been said, nothing had angered him more than the covert sneer, " your word." It was bad enough to see his cherished schemes recoil on his own head ; it was far worse to realize that already his intended accomplice had estimated him at the estimation in which he was held by the rest of the world. " You are an impostor, Truscott ; and hear this.

Do you suppose that Jamieson, fool as he is, took you in from sheer philanthropy ? He was hired, bribed by me to find a man for my purpose, and your price was one thousand pounds." "That I shall believe," said Truscott quietly, "when I see the cheque." He said it by way of defence of his friend, and because it soothed his own vanity ; but had he known the truth, he could not have hit the scoundrelly lawyer harder. Aaron fairly winced as he recollected that his own crafti ness had prevented there being the slightest proof of any collusion between himself and Jamieson. Not only had his dishonesty to his friend prevented his having documentary evidence with which to coerce this refractory young man, but he knew full well what would be the result of an appeal to the defrauded quack. Yet even then he determined to hazard one last throw.

" Come, come," he said with a sneer, " that last remark shows you and Jamieson have talked it over, Truscott. It's no good trying to humbug me. You rather gave yourself away that time," and he laughed a boisterous lauo-h. Truscott rose to go. " Mr. Hartley," he said, " let us have a clear understanding. I am here, I admit, thanks to your services, but none the less by my grandfather's invitation. I am very comfortable. The house, though old, is home like, and it is pleasant to be under the same roof that sheltered my ancestors. There is pleasant society (yourself included), and the makings of a satisfactory flirtation with a remarkably handsome girl. I have no intention of moving, nor apparently does any one w7ant me to go except yourself. Are you not a little foolish ? When in the fullness of time I come to reign here, I shall want an agent.

From your point of view it would be extremely foolish to quarrel with me. Mind, it is a matter of complete indifference to me. I only speak for your own good. I should be sorry if you were to obliterate the recollection of the kindness you have done me." He walked to the terrace and looked over the wall on to the drive below, leaving Aaron speechless. If ever yet a man was hoist on his own petard, that was the position of the Squire's rascally agent. Sinbad's old man of the sea was as nothing to Truscott. Briefly summarized, his position was this. Thanks to his extreme caution, he could not easily disprove Truscott's identity with the missing grandson. Thanks to his roguery, he had made an enemy of Jamieson, the only man who by any possibility could assist him, and thanks to his over-eagerness he had taken on as his tool a man who, without waiting to ask his leave, had become his master.

The mood of Aaron Hartley just then was that of a man wTho wrould like to commit murder if he could be certain of not being found out. But Truscott was talking to some one below the terrace, and Obadiah Quick had joined him. So Aaron too went to the spot to hear what was going on. " My good fellow, I don't want any," said Truscott with a laugh. " If not inclined ter buy from necessity, honoured gentleman," replied a voice, "let me entreat yer to purchase somethin' in the sacred name of charity. These 'ere buttons and tapes, not ter say bootlaces and pencils, which are made by the orfins in one of our most deservin' institushuns, are sold for their 'umble benefit. Pause, young feller, afore yer turns yer back on the 'umble merchant. I do not come to yer like the great and 'aughty men of prosperous cities, but I come afoot, with my wares upon my back, very scornfully 'ated by the great, but the solace of the poor.

Hon oured gentleman, kin I not sell yer somethin' ? ' "Who is this, Quick?" asked Aaron, sharply. " A pedlar, sir, what has come here regu larly of these last three weeks, sir ; thank you, sir," replied Mr. Quick. " If the Squire sees him he will be furious," said Aaron. " Possibly," said Truscott carelessly. " But he need not. Here, old fellow, take that, and get away as quick as you can." And he threw him a shilling. " Thank you, sir, kindly," replied the other. " Folks are often very embittered against us misfortunate people. Your kindness, noble sir, 'as rose a monument to you 'igher than the one what was brought from Egypt. Noble sir, farewell." He turned to go, and walked slowly off clown the drive. " Queer fellow, was he not ? " said Truscott, carelessly. But Aaron was thinking:. O " Strange to say, I believe I've seen him before," he answered ; " but where I can't remember."

If however his memory was bad, the ex professor's was a deal better. " The cove in brown along 'er the foxey one. This will be news for the guv'nor," he thought, as he quickened his pace. " I'll just stop at the gate ter ask when 'e come. I'll swear 'e worn't 'ere three days gone. 'Owever, you'll soon be done with this 'umbuggin' pack, Jeremiah, my boy."

Chapter II. All

through that night Ambrose Mulholland watched by the old man's bed, and wondered if he would see the morning light ao-ain. The seizure was of a far more serious O nature than he had at first suspected, and though for very good reasons he did not tell the others how slender a thread supported life, his anxiety was none the less real. As soon as he had got the old Squire to bed, and had satisfied himself what was wrong, he cleared the room of all the men, and telling Rachel Wood and Mrs. Phillips that he would sit up himself, he arranged that they should halve the night's watch between them. Towards nine o'clock Aaron Hartley came to the door and asked how the Squire was. To him Ambrose Mulholland only vouchsafed the information that he could not well be worse, and as he communicated the news he detected, or thought he detected, a look of gratification on the lawyer's deceitful face.

Later on, George Sparshott on his way to bed asked the latest information, and with him Mulholland was more precise. " How is the Squire ?" George had asked. "He is very ill, Mr. Sparshott," was the doctor's answer. The other's face fell at the news. " Poor old man ! " he said. "Doctor, is he dying ? " " I am going to be candid with you," replied Ambrose, " but if I am you must keep my confidence. Say in the house there is no change ; but note for your own information, that though his life is in very great danger, I hope he will pull through. If he lives through the night he may recover." VOL. III. " He is still insensible ? " "Yes," said Ambrose. And he was gratified to see that George Sparshott at all events w7as pleased at the idea that hope existed. He bade him good night, and resumed his watch.

Rachel Wood was to remain till tw7o o'clock, at which hour Mrs. Phillips had arranged to relieve her. Mulholland intended to snatch what rest he could in a chair, his only regret being the impossibility of his enjoying a pipe. So he sat, unable to sleep, during the first part of the night in old Jasper's chair. Opposite to him was Rachel Wood, calmly handling some embroidery as if her guardian's life wras in no clanger at all. Ambrose Mulholland was a man whose nerves never troubled him, a man as a doctor should be, matter-of-fact to a fault ; yet as he sat there watching the beautiful girl calmly pursuing her work indifferent to the invalid's fate, he could not help wondering what sort of people these were, who seemed to have no feeling for each other. Rachel sat in the full blaze of a lamp — shaded on one side so as not to disturb the sick man — and everything else in the room was in deep shadow, Mulholland himself included.

The faded moth-eaten hangings, the weird furniture, the old bed which looked not unlike a hearse, the deadly stillness broken only by that most distressing of sounds, a sick man's heavy breathing, save when from time to time the old clock over the stables rang out the hour, or a dos: outside howled at the moon, all his surroundings in fact helped to try him. He had often walked through the wards of a great London hospital at midnight, and seen the poor human frames usually racked by pain taking the rest begotten of exhaustion, and had felt the influence of the scene in the dimly lit room, but somehow that had been modern and tangible, and in the natural order of things. Here it was so different. This old man's life ebbing away in the weird room where he had lived, uncarcd for and unregretted, his wealth powerless to buy him the love of a single human being, or even to enforce the affection of the woman most dependent on his charity.

True, it was all on a par with everything else which he had seen at the Abbey, and yet as he looked across at that fair girl, born to be the delight of her friends, " a thing of beauty and a joy for ever," he could only see her callous indifference, her loveliness had disappeared. He was heartily glad when Peggy Phillips made her appearance, and Rachel retired for the night. Peggy was human, and in her way seemed to care for her master's comfort, and what was more, she had brought a couple of pillows and a rug with her, and made him a bed on the sofa which stood in the room. "Lie down, sir," she whispered, "and rest yourself a little. I can watch by the Squire, and you must not exhaust your strength." Bidding her wake him at the slightest sign of change, Ambrose complied. He was really very tired, and in a few seconds he was fast asleep.

It was not the calm untroubled sleep of a man whose mind is free from care. Ambrose had a grave responsibility on his shoulders, aud he knew it. If old Jasper died with his will unsigned, the Abbey would be the prey of Aaron Hartley and his accomplices. Small wonder then that as he slept, hearses driven •by Aaron Hartley careered through his dreams, and that they opened, and were full of goblins who proclaimed themselves the rightful heir. As he awoke, the chimes on the clock rang out seven o'clock, and he jumped up at once. Mrs. Phillips was sitting by the fire, and he bade her take his place. " Nursing and watching are tiring, Mrs. Phillips," he said ; " I can watch now, you lie clown." And she did so. About an hour later the light began to struo-o-le through the chinks in the shutters, and he got up to look at the coming day.

Drawing back the curtain, he opened the shutter and looked across the valley, in which hung a frosty mist reddened by the dawn. It all looked so calm and peaceful, such a contrast to the sick-bed behind him, and the intrigues and worries which he knew to be distracting every one in the house. " Doctor, is that you ? " came feebly from the bed. Mulholland turned and bent over the old man to see if it was really he who had spoken. Old Jasper Dynmoke lay quite still, his face ghastly beyond words, but his eyes shining brightly under his bushy eyebrows. " Did you call me, sir ? " asked Ambrose. " Yes. What is wrong ? I feel weak, and my head is very bad." ' You have been very ill," began the doctor. " How long ? " asked the other quietly. " Since last night." " What was I doing ? Ah, I remember— the packet, Where is it ?

" Ambrose drew it from the inner pocket of his coat. " Good ! " said the Squire ; " keep it for me, doctor. I am very tired ; I must rest." The noises of voices had roused the housekeeper. " Has he spoken, sir ? " she asked. " Yes, but only a few words. Keep him quiet, and I hope he will be all right now. Mind you let no one in," answered the doctor. " I am going up-stairs to get ready for breakfast." A bath and a change refreshed him greatly, and he descended to the dining-room quite ready for breakfast. He found that as usual Aaron Hartley had driven off to the town, and that Sparshott and the supposed grandson were already at breakfast. " How is my grandfather, doctor ? " asked the latter. The others stared a little, they were not accustomed to this new relation. " He is better, I hope," answered Ambrose.

" I suppose Miss Wood is too tired to come down." " I think so ; any way we were too hungry to wrait," replied Sparshott, and the meal proceeded in silence. " Sparshott," said the doctor, when after breakfast Truscott left them, " have I your authority to send for a nurse ? " " Certainly ; but why ask me ? " " Because I must ask some one, and I look upon you as the proper head of the house." " Thank you. You may do just as you think best in Uncle Jasper's interests." So Ambrose left the house, and going to the stables, handed Mr. Quick a telegram and the necessary money. " I need not ask you to put your best foot forward, Quick," he said. " The Squire's life depends on good nursing." " I shall go at once, sir. Thank you, sir," replied Obadiah, touching his hat. " I beg your pardon, sir, but is the master dying ?

" " I hope not. He is very ill ; but make haste," answered Ambrose. " I will indeed, sir, that I will," and it is only fair to Obadiah Quick to add that he was as good as his word. " By the way, Quick, wait for the answer, and bring it out yourself. You understand 1 " said Ambrose. " Yes, sir, thank you, sir," and Mr. Quick touched his hat. " I beg pardon, sir, but if I might make bold to ask a question, who is this new gentleman — what come yesterday in Hinks' fly ? " " Who do you think ? " " Well, sir," and Mr. Quick lowered his voice, " they do say he claims to be the Squire's grandson ; but / know better nor that. Yon is no son of Master Harry's, let alone his being too old." "He says he is Arthur Dynmoke — Henry Dynmoke's only son." " And I say he says what is not true, sir ; yes, sir, thank you," and Mr. Quick climbed into the gig, which was standing in readiness while he drew on his gloves.

Then in the act of starting he asked another question — - " Would you be wanting anything from the town, sir ? " " No, thank you, Quick ; I have all I re quire," replied the other. " Thank you, sir. Excuse me, sir, but what might the Squire say to this new start ? " Ambrose considered a moment, and then he came to the conclusion that there could be no harm in telling this faithful old servant what his master thought. " I believe he agrees with you, Quick." " I knew," cried Obadiah, with an air of triumph. " As if / should not know a Dyn moke when I saw one ! Come up, mare," and for the first time since they became acquainted Mr. Quick left Ambrose standing in the yard without ceremony, and without even touching his cap. It was long past luncheon-time when the old servant returned. But his commission had been faithfully executed, and he handed to Ambrose the answering slip, on which was written — " Nurse Catherine leaves by 2.5 train; arrives Rawthorpe 8.15.

Meet her;" and for the present Ambrose's mind was at rest. His patient, if no better, was no worse. The old man's marvellous constitution was making a desperate fight with his malady ; and as for once he obeyed the doctor, sleeping when he could, and keeping silence when awake, Ambrose was satisfied. He soon dis covered the Squire's great anxiety was about the mysterious package, and this he showed him from time to time to keep him quiet. At last the old man seemed to grasp the idea that his attendant w7as to be relied on, and then he rested without question. As he was sleeping peacefully in the evening, Ambrose felt justified in handing him over to Mrs. Phillips and going down-stairs himself to dinner. It was not a very cheerful meal ; indeed the shadow of the impending catas trophe and its inevitable consequences seemed to be upon them all.

Not that any one seemed to care much what might be the fate of the lonely old man up-stairs ; not one of them except Sparshott showed the slightest feeling of regret that matters might go hard O O CO with him. But it struck Ambrose Mulholland that of all his four companions R.achel Wood was the most callous and the least concerned ; and it puzzled him why this should be the case. So far as he knew, the girl was wholly dependent on the bounty of the old sinner up-stairs, and yet she had not shown the least anxiety regarding what might be the end. None the less her presence acted as a restrain ing influence ; so long as she remained in the room the conversation was on neutral topics. But it was obvious that the men were split into two parties, Truscott and Hartley against the doctor and George Sparshott ; and though there was a pretence that it was not so, it was a very poor pretence indeed.

As soon as Miss Wood left the room, Aaron turned to Mulholland and put a question — " Now, doctor, your candid opinion — we are all equally interested. Will the Squire live ? " " It is impossible to say," replied Ambrose. " I can only tell you he is very ill ; a hair may turn the scale either way." " Then, gentlemen," said Aaron, turning to the others, " I think we ought to come to some arrangement regarding a course of action should Mr. Dynmoke unfortunately die." " That," said Truscott, " is a sensible idea. But what do you suggest ? " " Well, as the Squire's agent, the respon sibility will naturally devolve on me. But I should prefer to act with the approval of you all." " Wait a bit, friend Aaron," said Sparshott quietly. " You are the Squire's agent, you are not his heir. If he has made a will, the executors will act ; if he has not, /shall."

" And why you, pray, Mr. Sparshott ? " " As his next-of-kin. It would be, I hope, giving no offence to this gentleman here to say his claim requires to be established. I have a certain position in the house, and I may tell you straight, Aaron Hartley, I will not sanction your opening your lips once your master is dead." " But, Mr. Sparshott," remarked " Arthur " quietly, " my existence throws a very decided doubt on you. Would it not be for the best that Mr. Hartley should continue his present duties pending a settlement of rival claims ? " " No, it would not — certainly not. I know Aaron Hartley, if you don't, and I will never " " What's that ? " exclaimed Aaron, springing to his feet; and as they all listened there came through the clear air the sound of ap proaching wheels, given up distinctly by the hard ground.

"Ah," said Ambrose, "capital ! That's the nurse." " The what ? " exclaimed Aaron. " The nurse. After consulting Mr. Spar shott, I telegraphed for a nurse." "And why was this done without consult ing me ? " asked Aaron' furiously. " You need not try to bully me, Mr. Hart ley," answered Ambrose. "If I consider it necessary for the patient to have twenty nurses, and a dozen doctors, I shall send for them in spite of you." " In spite of me ! What do you mean ? " " That your behaviour is that of a man who rather hopes the worst than tries to prevent it," replied Ambrose, as he went to the door followed by Sparshott.