Cousin Henry. A novel

Chapter I. The

" CARMARTHEN HERALD." There was a great deal said at Carmarthen about the old Squire's will. Such scenes as that which had taken place in the house, first when the will was produced, then when the search was made, and afterwards when the will was read, do not pass without comment. There had been many present, and some of them had been much moved by the circumstances. The feeling that the Squire had executed a will subsequent to that which had now been proved was very strong, and VOL. II. B the idea suggested by Mr. Apjohn that the Squire himself had, in the weakness of his lat ter moments, destroyed this document, was not generally accepted. Had he done so, something of it would have been known. The ashes of the paper or the tattered fragments would have been seen. Whether Mr. Apjohn himself did or did not believe that it had been so, others would not think it.

Among the tenants and the servants at Llanfeare there was a general feeling that something wrong had been done. They who were most inclined to be charitable in their judgment, such as John Griffith of Coed, thought that the document was still hidden, and that it might not improbably be brought to light at last. Others were convinced that it had fallen into the hands of the present possessor of the property, and that it had been feloniously but successfully destroyed No guess at the real truth was made by any one. How should a man have guessed that the false heir should have sat there with the will, THE " CARMARTHEN HERALD." 3 as it were, before his eyes, close at his hand, and neither have destroyed nor revealed its existence ? Among those who believed the worst as to Cousin Henry were the two Cantors.

When a man has seen a thing done himself he is prone to believe in it, — and the more so when he has had a hand in the doing. They had been selected for the important operation of witnessing the will, and did not in the least doubt that the will had been in existence when the old Squire died. It might have been destroyed since. They believed that it had been destroyed. But they could not be brought to understand that so great an injustice should be allowed to remain on the face of the earth without a remedy or without punishment. Would it not be enough for a judge to know that they, two respectable men, had witnessed a new will, and that this new will had certainly been in opposition to the one which had been so fraudu lently proved ? The younger Cantor especially b was loud upon the subject, and got many ears in Carmarthen to listen to him.

The Carmarthen Herald, a newspaper bear ing a high character throughout South Wales, took the matter up very strongly, so that it be came a question whether the new Squire would not be driven to defend himself by an action for libel. It was not that the writer declared that Cousin Henry had destroyed the will, but that he published minute accounts of all that had been done at Llanfeare, putting forward in every paper as it came out the reason which ex isted for supposing that a wrong had been done. That theory that old Indefer Jones had himself destroyed his last will without saying a word of his purpose to any one was torn to tatters. The doctor had been with him from day to day, and must almost certainly have known it had such an intention been in his mind. The housekeeper would have known it.

Henry Jones himself must have known it. The nephew and professed heir had said not a word to any one of THE "CARMARTHEN HERALD." •5 what had passed between himself and his uncle. Could they who had known old Indefer Jones for so many years, and were aware that he had been governed by the highest sense of honour through his entire life, could they bring themselves to believe that he should have altered the will made in his nephew's favour, and then realtered it, going back to his inten tions in that nephew's favour, without saying a word to his nephew on the subject? But Henry Jones had given no account of any such word. Henry Jones had been silent as to all that occurred during those last weeks. Henry Jones had not only been silent when the will was being read, when the search was being made, but had sat there still in con tinued silence.

" We do not say," continued the writer in the paper, " that Henry Jones since he became owner of Llanfeare has been afraid to mingle with his brother men. We have no right to say so. But we consider it to be our duty to declare that such has been the fact. Circumstances will from time to time occur in which it becomes necessary on public grounds to inquire into the privacy of individuals, and we think that the circumstances now as to this property are of this nature." As will be the case in such matters, these expressions became gradually stronger, till it was conceived to be the object of those concerned in making them to drive Henry Jones to seek for legal redress, — so that he might be subjected to cross-examination as to the transactions and words of that last fortnight before his uncle's death.

It was the opinion of many that if he could be forced into a witness-box, he would be made to confess if there were anything to confess. The cowardice of the man became known, — or was rather exaggerated in the minds of those around him. It was told of him how he lived in the one room, how rarely he left the house, how totally he was without occupation. More than the truth was repeated as to his habits, till all Car- THE "CARMARTHEN HERALD." 7 marthenshire believed that he was so tram melled by some mysterious consciousness of crime as to be unable to perform any of the duties of life. When men spoke to him he trembled ; when men looked at him he turned away. All his habits were inquired into. It was said of him that the Carmarthen Herald was the only paper that he saw, and declared of him that he spent hour after hour in spelling the terrible accusations which, if not absolutely made against him, were insinuated.

It became clear to lawyers, to Mr. Apjohn himself, that the man, if honest, should, on behalf of the old family and long-respected name, vindicate him self by prosecuting the owner of the paper for libel. If he were honest in the matter, altogether honest, there could be no reason why he should fear to encounter a hostile law yer. There were at last two letters from young Joseph Cantor printed in the paper which were undoubtedly libellous, — letters which young Cantor himself certainly could not have written, — letters which all Carmarthen knew to have been written by some one connected with the newspaper, though signed by the young farmer, — in which it was positively declared that the old Squire had left a later will behind him. When it was discussed whether or no he could get a verdict, it was clearly shown that the getting of a verdict should not be the main object of the prosecution.

" He has to show," said Mr. Apjohn, " that he is not afraid to face a court of justice." But he was afraid. When we last parted with him after his visit to Coed he had not seen the beginning of these attacks. On the next day the first paper reached him, and they who were concerned in it did not spare to send him the copies as they were issued. Having read the first, he was not able to refuse to read what followed. In each issue they were carried on, and, as was told of him in Carmar then, he lingered over every agonizing detail THE " CARMARTHEN HERALD." 9 of tho venom which was entering into his soul. It was in vain that he tried to hide the paper, or to pretend to be indifferent to its coming. Mrs. Griffith knew very well where the paper was, and knew also that every word had been perused.

The month's notice which had been accepted from her and the butler in lieu of the three months first offered had now expired. The man had gone, but she remained, as did the two other women. Nothing was said as to the cause of their remaining ; but they remained. As for Cousin Henry himself, he was too weak, too frightened, too completely absorbed by the horrors of his situation to ask them why they stayed, or to have asked them why they went. He understood every word that was written of him with sharp, minute intelligence. Though his spirit was cowed, his mind was still alive to all the dangers of his position. Things were being said of him, charges were insinuated, which he declared to himself to be false. Ho had not destroyed the will. He had not even hidden it. He had only put a book into its own place, carrying out as he did so his innocent intention when he had first lifted the book.

When these searchers had come, doing their work so idly, with such incurious futility, he had not concealed the book. He had left it there on its shelf beneath their hands. Who could say that he had been guilty ? If the will were found now, who could reasonably suggest that there had been guilt on his part ? If all were known, — except that chance glance of his eye which never could be known, — no one could say that he was other than innocent ! And yet he knew of himself that he would lack strength to stand up in court and endure the sharp questions and angry glances of a keen lawyer. His very knees would fail to carry him through the court. The words would stick in his jaws. He would shake and shiver and faint before the assembled eyes. It would be easier THE " CARMARTHEN HERALD." 11 for him to throw himself from the rocks on which he had lain dreaming into the sea than to go into a court of law and there tell his own story as to the will.

They could not force him to go. He thought he could perceive as much as that. The action, if action there were to be, must originate with him. There was no evidence on which they could bring a charge of felony or even of fraud against him. They could not drag1 him into the court. But he knew that all the world would say that if he were an honest man, he himself would appear there, denounce his defamers, and vindicate his own name. As day by day he failed to do so, he would be declaring his own guilt. Yet he knew that ho could not do it. Was there no escape ? He was quite sure now that the price at which he held the property was infinitely above its value. Its value ! It had no value in his eyes. It was simply a curse of which he would rid himself with the utmost alacrity if only he could rid himself of all that had befallen him in achieving it.

But how should he escape ? Were he now himself to disclose the document and carry it into Car marthen, prepared to deliver up the property to his cousin, was there one who would not think that it had been in his possession from before his uncle's death, and that he had now been driven by his fears to surrender it ? Was there one who would not believe that he had hidden it with his own hands ? How now could he personate that magnanimity which would have been so easy had he brought forth the book and handed it with its enclosure to Mr. Apjohn when the lawyer came to read the will? He looked back with dismay at his folly at having missed an opportunity so glorious. But now there seemed to be no escape. Though he left the room daily, no one found the will. They were welcome to THE " CARMARTHEN HERALD." 13 find it if they would, but they did nat.

That base newspaper lied of him, — as he told himself bitterly as he read it, — in saying that he did not leave his room. Daily did he roam about the place for an hour or two, — speaking, in deed, to no one, looking at no one. There the newspaper had been true enough. But that charge against him of self-imprisonment had been false as far as it referred to days subse quent to the rebuke which his housekeeper had given him. But no one laid a hand upon the book. He almost believed that, were the paper left open on the table, no eye would examine its contents. There it lay still hidden within the folds of the sermon, that weight upon his heart, that incubus on his bosom, that nightmare which robbed him of all his slumbers, and he could not rid himself of its presence. Property, indeed ! Oh ! if he were only back in London, and his cousin reigning at Llanfeare !

John Griffith, from Coed, had promised to call upon him ; but when three weeks had passed by, he had not as yet made his appearance. Now, on one morning he came and found his landlord alone in the book room. "This is kind of you, Mr. Griffith," said Cousin Henry, struggling hard to assume the manner of a man with a light heart. "I have come, Mr. Jones," said the farmer very seriously, " to say a few words which I think ought to be said." " What are they, Mr. Griffith ?" " Now, Mr. Jones, I am not a man as is given to interfering, — especially not with my betters." " I am sure you are not." " And, above all, not with my own landlord." Then he paused ; but as Cousin Henry could not find an appropriate word either for rebuke or encouragement, he was driven to go on with his story. " I have been obliged to look at THE " CARMARTHEN HERALr." 15 all those things in the Carmarthen Herald."

Then Cousin Henry turned deadly pale. "We have all been driven to look at them. I have taken the paper these twenty years, but it is sent now to every tenant on the estate, whether they pay or whether they don't. Mrs. Griffith, there, in the kitchen has it. I suppose they sent it to you, sir ?" " Yes ; it does come," said Cousin Henry, with the faintest attempt at a smile. " And you have read what they say ?" "Yes, the most of it." " It has been very hard, sir." At this Cousin Henry could only affect a ghastly smile. " Very hard," continued the farmer. " It has made my flesh creep as I read it. Do you know what it all means, Mr. Jones ?" " I suppose I know." " It means, — that you have stolen, — the estates, — from your cousin, — Miss Brodrick ! " This the man said very solemnly, bringing out each single word by itself.

" I am not saying so, Mr. Jones." " No, no, no," gasped the miserable wretch. " No, indeed. If I thought so, I should not be here to tell you what I thought. It is because I believe that you are injured that I am here." " I am injured ; I am injured ! " " I think so. I believe so. I cannot tell what the mystery is, if mystery there be ; but I do not believe that you have robbed that young lady, your own cousin, by destroying such a deed as your uncle's will." " No, no, no." " Is there any secret that you can tell ? " Awed, appalled, stricken with utter dis may, Cousin Henry sat silent before his questioner. " If there be, sir, had you not better confide it to some one ? Your uncle knew me well for more than forty years, and trusted me thoroughly, and I would fain, if I could, do THE " CARMARTHEN HERALD." 17 something for his nephew.

If there be any thing to tell, tell it like a man." Still Cousin Henry sat silent. He was unable to summon courage at the instant sufficient to deny the existence of the secret, nor could he resolve to take down the book and show the document. He doubted, when the appearance of a doubt was in itself evidence of guilt in the eyes of the man who was watching him. " Oh, Mr. Griffith," he exclaimed after a while, " will you be my friend ? " "I will indeed, Mr. Jones, if I can, — honestly." "I have been cruelly used." "It has been hard to bear," said Mr. Griffith. " Terrible, terrible ! Cruel, cruel ! " Then again he paused, trying to make up his mind, endeavouring to see by what means he could escape from this hell upon earth. If there were any means, he might perhaps achieve it by aid of this man.

The man o VOL. sat silent, watching him, but the way of escape did not appear to him. " There is no mystery," he gasped at last. "None?" said the farmer severely. " No mystery. What mystery should there be ? There was the will. I have destroyed nothing. I have hidden nothing. I have done nothing. Because the old man changed his mind so often, am I to be blamed ?" " Then, Mr. Jones, why do you not say all that in a court of law, — on your oath ?" " How can I do that?" " Go to Mr. Apjohn, and speak to him like a man. Bid him bring an action in your name for libel against the newspaper. Then there will be an inquiry. Then you will be put into a witness-box, and be able to tell your own story on your oath." Cousin Henry, groaning, pale and affrighted, murmured out something signifying that he would think of it.

Then Mr. Griffith left him. The farmer, when he entered the THE "CARMARTHEN HERALD." 19 room, had believed his landlord to be innocent, but that belief had vanished when he took his leave. c

Chapter II. An Action For Libel

When the man had asked him that question, — Is there any secret you can teU ? — Cousin Henry did, for half a minute, make up his mind to tell the whole story, and reveal everything as it had occurred. Then he remem bered the lie which he had told, the lie to which he had signed his name when he had been called upon to prove the will in Carmar then. Had he not by the unconsidered act of that moment committed some crime for which he could be prosecuted and sent to gaol ? Had it not been perjury? From the very beginning he had determined that he would support his possession of the property by no criminal deed. He had not hidden the will in the book. He had not interfered in the search. He had done nothing incompatible with inno cence. So it had been with him till he had been called upon, without a moment having been allowed to him for thinking, to sign his name to that declaration.

The remembrance of this came to him as he almost made up his mind to rise from his seat and pull the book down from the shelf. And then another thought occurred to him. Could he not tell Mr. Griffith that he had discovered the docu ment since he had made that declaration, — that he had discovered it only on that morning ? But he had felt that a story such as that would receive no belief, and he had feared to estrange his only friend by a pal pable lie. He had therefore said that there was no secret, — had said so after a pause which had assured Mr. Griffith of the existence of a mystery, — had said so with a face which of itself had declared the truth. When the farmer left him he knew well enough that the man doubted him, — nay, that the man was assured of his guilt. It had come to be so with all whom he had encountered since he had first reached Llanfeare.

His uncle who had sent for him had turned from him ; his cousin had scorned him ; the tenants had refused to accept him when there certainly had been no cause for their rejection. Mr. Apjohn from the first had looked at him with accusing eyes; his servants were spies upon his actions ; this newspaper was rending his very vitals ; and now this one last friend had deserted him. He thought that if only he could summon courage for the deed, it would be best for him to throw himself from the rocks. But there was no such courage in him. The one idea remaining to him was to save him self from the horrors ofa criminal prosecution. If he did not himself touch the document, or give any sign of his consciousness of its presence, they could not prove that he had known of its whereabouts. If they would only find it and let him go !

But they did not find it, and he could not put them on its trace. As to these wicked libels, Mr. Griffith had asked him why he did not have recourse to a court of law, and refute them by the courage of his presence. He understood the proposition in all its force. Why did he not show himself able to bear any questions which the ingenuity of a lawyer could put to him ? Simply be cause he was unable to bear them. The truth would be extracted from him in the process. Though he should have fortified himself with strongest resolves, he would be unable to hide his guilty knowledge. He knew that of him self. He would be sure to give testimony against himself, on the strength of which he would be dragged from the witness-box to the dock. He declared to himself that, let the newspaper say what it would, he would not of his own motion throw himself among the lion s teeth which were prepared for him.

But in so resolving he did not know what further external force might be applied to him. When the old tenant had sternly told him that he should go like a man into the witness-box and tell his own story on his oath, that had been hard to bear. But there came worse than that, — a power more difficult to resist. On the following morning Mr. Apjohn arrived at Llanfeare, having driven himself over from Carmarthen, and was at once shown into the book-room. The lawyer was a man who, by his friends and by his clients in general, was considered to be a pleasant fellow as well as a cautious man of business. He was good at a dinner-table, serviceable with a gun, and always happy on horseback. He could catch a fish, and was known to be partial to a rubber at whist. He certainly was not re garded as a hard or cruel man.

But Cousin Henry, in looking at him, had always seen a sternness in his eye, some curve of a frown upon his brow, which had been uncomfort able to him. From the beginning of their intercourse he had been afraid of the lawyer. He had felt that he was looked into and scru tinized, and found to be wanting. Mr. Apjohn had, of course, been on Isabel's side. All Carmarthenshire knew that he had done his best to induce the old squire to maintain Isabel as his heiress. Cousin Henry was well aware of that. But still why had this attorney always looked at him with accusing eyes ? When he had signed that declaration at Car marthen, the attorney had shown by his face that he believed the declaration to be false. And now this man was there, and there was nothing for him but to endure his questions. "Mr. Jones," said the lawyer, "I have thought it my duty to call upon you in re spect to these articles in the Carmarthen Herald."

" I cannot help what the Carmarthen Herald may say." "But you can, Mr. Jones. That is just it. There are laws which enable a man to stop libels and to punish them if it be worth his while to do so." He paused a moment, but Cousin Henry was silent, and he continued, " For many years I was your uncle's lawyer, as was my father before me. I have never been commissioned by you to regard myself as your lawyer, but as circumstances are at present, I am obliged to occupy the place until you put your business into other hands. In such a position I feel it to be my duty to call upon you in reference to these articles. No doubt they are libellous." " They are very cruel ; I know that," said Cousin Henry, whining. " All such accusations are cruel, if they be false." " These are false ; damnably false."

" I take that for granted ; and therefore I have come to you to tell you that it is your duty to repudiate with all the strength of your own words the terrible charges which are brought against you." ''Must I go and be a witness about my self?" " Yes ; it is exactly that. You must go and be a witness about yourself. Who else can tell the truth as to all the matters in question as well as yourself? You should understand, Mr. Jones, that you should not take this step with the view of punishing the newspaper." " Why, then ? " " In order that you may show yourself wdl ing to place yourself there to be questioned. ' Here I am,' you would say. ' If there be any point in which you wish me to be examined as to this property and this will, here I am to answer you.' It is that you may show that you are not afraid of investigation."

But it was exactly this of which Cousin Henry was afraid. " You cannot but be aware of what is going on in Carmarthen." " I know about the newspaper." " It is my duty not to blink the matter. Every one, not only in the town but through out the country, is expressing an opinion that right has not been done." "What do they want ? I cannot help it if my uncle did not make a will according to their liking." " They think that he did make a will ac cording to their liking, and that there has been foul play." " Do they accuse me ? " " Practically they do. These articles in the paper are only an echo of the public voice. And that voice is becoming stronger and stronger every day because you take no steps to silence it. Have you seen yesterday's paper ? " "Yes; I saw it," said Cousin Henry, gasp ing for breath.

Then Mr. Apjohn brought a copy of the newspaper out of his pocket, and began to read a list of questions which the editor was supposed to ask the public generally. Each question was an insult, and Cousin Henry, had he dared, would have bade the reader desist, and have turned him out of the room for his insolence in reading them. " Has Mr. Henry Jones expressed an opinion of his own as to what became of the will which the Messrs. Cantor witnessed ? " " Has Mr. Henry Jones consulted any friend, legal or otherwise, as to his tenure of the Llanfeare estate ? " " Has Mr. Henry Jones any friend to whom he can speak in Carmarthenshire ? " " Has Mr. Henry Jones inquired into the cause of his own isolation ? " " Has Mr. Henry Jones any idea why we persecute him in every fresh issue of our newspaper ?

" " Has Mr. Henry Jones thought of what may possibly be the end of all this ? " "Has Mr. Henry Jones any thought of prosecuting us for libel ? " " Has Mr. Henry Jones heard of any other case in which an heir has been made so little welcome to his property ? " So the questions went on, an almost endless list, and the lawyer read them one after another, in a low, plain voice, slowly, but with clear accentuation, so that every point intended by the questioner might be under stood. Such a martyrdom surely no man was ever doomed to bear before. In every line he was described as a thief. Yet he bore it ; and when the lawyer came to an end of the abomi nable questions, he sat silent, trying to smile. What was he to say ? " Do you mean to put up with that ? " asked Mr. Apjohn, with that curve of his eyebrow of which Cousin Henry was so much afraid.