"Grilston, January 6th, 18—."Honored Miss,"Hoping No Offence Will Be Taken where None is meant, (which am Sure of,) This I send To say Who I Am which, Is the Right And True Owner of Yatton which You Enjoy Amongst You All At This present (Till The Law Give it toMe) Which It quickly Will, and No Mistake, And which It Ought to Have done When I were First born And Before YrRespecte. Family ever Came into it, And All which Yrhond. Brother Have so unlawfully Got Possession Of must Come Back to Them Whose Due It is whIs myself as will be Soon provd. And wham most truely Sorry Ofon your own Acct. (Meaning (hond. Miss) you Alone) as Sure As Yatton is Intirely Mine So My Heart Isyoursand No Longer my Own Ever since I Saw You first as Can Easily prove but whdoubtless You Have forgot Seeing You Never New, because (as Mr. Gammon, My Solliciter And a Very Great Lawyer, says)Cases Alter Circumstances, what Can I say More Than that I Love youMost AmazingSuch As Never Thought Myself Capable of Doing Before and whcannot help Ever Since I First saw your mostLovelyandDivineandstrikingFace whhave Stuck In my Mind Ever Since Day and Night Sleeping and Waking I will Take my Oath Never Of Having Lov'd Any one Else, Though (must Say) have Had a Wonderful ManyOffersFrom Females ofThe Highest RankSince my Truely Wonderful Good fortune got Talked About every Where but haveRefused Them Allforyrsake, And Would All the World But you. When I Saw You on Horseback It was All my Sudden confusion In Seeing you (the Other Gent. was One of my RespeSolicitors) whThrew Me off in that Ridiculous Way whwas a Great Mortification And made My brute Of A horsego on so, For I Remembered You and was Wonderful struckwith Your Improv'd Appearance(As that Same Gent. can Testify) And you was (Hond. Miss) Quite WrongTo Nightwhen You Spoke so Uncommon Angry To Me, seeing If I Had Only Known What Female It Was (meaningyourself which I respect So) out so Late Alone I should Have spoke quite Different So hope You Will think Nothing More Of that TruelyUnpleasant EventNow (Hond. Madam) What I have to say Is if You will Please to Condescend To Yield To My DesireWe Can Live Most uncommon Comfortable at Yatton Together whPlace shall Have Great Pleasure (ifyouplease) inMarrying You Fromand I may (perhaps) Do Something handsome for yr. respectable Brother and Family, whcan Often Come to see us And Live in the Neighborhood, if You Refuse me, Will not say What shall Happen toThosewhich (am Told)Owe me a Precious Long FigurewhMay (perhaps) Make a Handsome Abatement in, if You And IHit it."Hoping You Will Forget What Have So Much Grievd. me, And Write pt. return of Post,"Am,"hond. Miss"Yr. most Loving & Devoted Servant"(Till Death)Tittlebat Titmouse."ParticularPrivate."
"Grilston, January 6th, 18—.
"Honored Miss,
"Hoping No Offence Will Be Taken where None is meant, (which am Sure of,) This I send To say Who I Am which, Is the Right And True Owner of Yatton which You Enjoy Amongst You All At This present (Till The Law Give it toMe) Which It quickly Will, and No Mistake, And which It Ought to Have done When I were First born And Before YrRespecte. Family ever Came into it, And All which Yrhond. Brother Have so unlawfully Got Possession Of must Come Back to Them Whose Due It is whIs myself as will be Soon provd. And wham most truely Sorry Ofon your own Acct. (Meaning (hond. Miss) you Alone) as Sure As Yatton is Intirely Mine So My Heart Isyoursand No Longer my Own Ever since I Saw You first as Can Easily prove but whdoubtless You Have forgot Seeing You Never New, because (as Mr. Gammon, My Solliciter And a Very Great Lawyer, says)Cases Alter Circumstances, what Can I say More Than that I Love youMost AmazingSuch As Never Thought Myself Capable of Doing Before and whcannot help Ever Since I First saw your mostLovelyandDivineandstrikingFace whhave Stuck In my Mind Ever Since Day and Night Sleeping and Waking I will Take my Oath Never Of Having Lov'd Any one Else, Though (must Say) have Had a Wonderful ManyOffersFrom Females ofThe Highest RankSince my Truely Wonderful Good fortune got Talked About every Where but haveRefused Them Allforyrsake, And Would All the World But you. When I Saw You on Horseback It was All my Sudden confusion In Seeing you (the Other Gent. was One of my RespeSolicitors) whThrew Me off in that Ridiculous Way whwas a Great Mortification And made My brute Of A horsego on so, For I Remembered You and was Wonderful struckwith Your Improv'd Appearance(As that Same Gent. can Testify) And you was (Hond. Miss) Quite WrongTo Nightwhen You Spoke so Uncommon Angry To Me, seeing If I Had Only Known What Female It Was (meaningyourself which I respect So) out so Late Alone I should Have spoke quite Different So hope You Will think Nothing More Of that TruelyUnpleasant EventNow (Hond. Madam) What I have to say Is if You will Please to Condescend To Yield To My DesireWe Can Live Most uncommon Comfortable at Yatton Together whPlace shall Have Great Pleasure (ifyouplease) inMarrying You Fromand I may (perhaps) Do Something handsome for yr. respectable Brother and Family, whcan Often Come to see us And Live in the Neighborhood, if You Refuse me, Will not say What shall Happen toThosewhich (am Told)Owe me a Precious Long FigurewhMay (perhaps) Make a Handsome Abatement in, if You And IHit it.
"Hoping You Will Forget What Have So Much Grievd. me, And Write pt. return of Post,
"Am,
"hond. Miss
"Yr. most Loving & Devoted Servant
"(Till Death)
Tittlebat Titmouse.
"ParticularPrivate."
This exquisitely constructed document its accomplished writer sealed twice, and then left, together with sixpence, in the hands of the landlady of the Hare and Hounds, to be delivered at Yatton Hall the first thing in the morning. The good woman, however—having no particular wish to oblige such a strange puppy, whom she was only too glad to get rid of, and having moreover a good deal to attend to—laid the letter aside on the chimney-piece, and entirely lost sight of it for nearly a fortnight. Shortly after the lamentable tidings concerning the impending misfortunes of the Aubrey family had been communicated to the inhabitants of Grilston, she forwarded the letter, (little dreaming of the character in which its writer was likely, erelong, to reappear at Grilston,) together with one or two others, a day or two after Miss Aubrey had had the interview with her brother which I have described to the reader; but it lay unnoticed by any one—above all, by the sweet sufferer whose name was indicated on it—among a great number of miscellaneous letters and papers which had been suffered to accumulate on the library table.
Mr. Aubrey entered the library one morning, alone, for the purpose of attending to many matters which had been long neglected. He was evidently thinner: his face was pale, and his manner dejected: still there was about him an air of calmness and resolution. Through the richly-pictured old stained-glass window, the mottled sunbeams were streaming in a kind of tender radiance upon the dear familiar objects around him. All was silent. Having drawn his chair to the table, on which was lying a confused heap of letters and papers, he felt a momentary repugnance to enter upon the task which he had assigned to himself; and rose and walked slowly for some time up and down the room, with folded arms, uttering occasionally profound sighs. At length he resumed his seat, and commenced the disheartening task of opening the many letters before him. One of the earliest that came to his hand was from Peter Johnson—the old tenant to whom he had lent the sum of two hundred pounds, and it was full of fervent expressions of gratitude and respect; Mr. Aubrey's heart ached as he read them. Then came a letter, a fortnight old, bearing the frank of Lord C——, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. He opened it and read:—
"Whitehall, 16th January, 18—."Mydear Aubrey,"You will remember that Lord ——'s motion stands for the 28th. We all venture to calculate upon receiving your powerful support in the debate. We expect to be much pressed with the Duke of ——'s affair, which you handled shortly before the recess with such signal ability and success. When you return to town, you must expect a renewal of certain offers, which I most sincerely trust, for the benefit of the public service, will not beagaindeclined."Ever yours faithfully,"C——."(Private and confidential.)"Charles Aubrey, Esq. M. P."
"Whitehall, 16th January, 18—.
"Mydear Aubrey,
"You will remember that Lord ——'s motion stands for the 28th. We all venture to calculate upon receiving your powerful support in the debate. We expect to be much pressed with the Duke of ——'s affair, which you handled shortly before the recess with such signal ability and success. When you return to town, you must expect a renewal of certain offers, which I most sincerely trust, for the benefit of the public service, will not beagaindeclined.
"Ever yours faithfully,
"C——.
"(Private and confidential.)
"Charles Aubrey, Esq. M. P."
Mr. Aubrey laid down the letter calmly, as soon as he had read it; and leaning back in his chair, seemed lost in thought for several minutes. Presently he reapplied himself to his task, and opened and glanced over a great many letters; the contents of several of which occasioned him deep emotion. Some were from persons in distress whom he had assisted, and who implored a continuance of his aid; others were from ardent political friends—some sanguine, others desponding—concerning the prospects of the session. Two or three hinted that it was everywhere reported that he had been offered one of the under secretaryships, and had declined; but that it was, at the king's desire, to be pressed upon him. Many letters were on private, and still more on county, business; and with one of them he was engaged when a servant entered with one of that morning's county newspapers. Tired with his task, Mr. Aubrey rose from his chair as the servant gave him the paper; and, standing before the fire, unfolded theYorkshire Stingo, and glanced listlessly over its miscellaneous contents. At length his eye lit upon the following paragraph:—
"The rumors so deeply affecting a member for a certain borough in this county, and to which we alluded in our last paper but one, turn out to be well founded. A claimant has started up to the very large estates at present held by the gentleman in question; and we are much misinformed if the ensuing spring assizes will not effect a considerable change in the representation of the borough alluded to, by relieving it from the Tory thraldom under which it has been so long oppressed. We have no wish to bear hard upon a falling man; and, therefore, shall make no comment upon the state of mind in which that person may be presumed to be, who must be conscious of having been so long enjoying the just rights of others. Some extraordinary disclosures may be looked for when the trial comes on. We have heard from a quarter on which we are disposed to place reliance, that the claimant is a gentleman ofdecided Whig principles, and who will prove a valuable accession to the Liberal cause."[21]
"The rumors so deeply affecting a member for a certain borough in this county, and to which we alluded in our last paper but one, turn out to be well founded. A claimant has started up to the very large estates at present held by the gentleman in question; and we are much misinformed if the ensuing spring assizes will not effect a considerable change in the representation of the borough alluded to, by relieving it from the Tory thraldom under which it has been so long oppressed. We have no wish to bear hard upon a falling man; and, therefore, shall make no comment upon the state of mind in which that person may be presumed to be, who must be conscious of having been so long enjoying the just rights of others. Some extraordinary disclosures may be looked for when the trial comes on. We have heard from a quarter on which we are disposed to place reliance, that the claimant is a gentleman ofdecided Whig principles, and who will prove a valuable accession to the Liberal cause."[21]
Mr. Aubrey was certainly somewhat shocked by brutality such as this; but on Miss Aubrey's entering the room, he quietly folded up the paper and laid it aside, fearful lest his sister's feelings should be pierced by the coarse and cruel paragraph which it contained. It had, in fact, been concocted in London, in the office of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; who were, as before stated, interested in theSunday Flash, which was in some sort connected, through the relationship of the editors, with theYorkshire Stingo. The idea had been suggested by Gammon, by way of attempting to enlist thepoliticalfeeling of a portion of the county, in favor of their client.
"Here are several letters foryou, Kate," said her brother, picking out several of them. The very first she took up, it having attracted her attention by the double seal, and the vulgar style of the handwriting, was that from Titmouse, which has just been laid before the reader. With much surprise she opened the letter, her brother being similarly engaged with his own; and her face getting gradually paler and paler as she went on, at length she flung it on the floor with a passionate air, and burst into tears. Her brother, with astonishment, exclaimed—"Dear Kate, what is it?" and he rose and stooped to pick up the letter.
"Don't—don't, Charles!" she cried, putting her foot upon it, and flinging her arms round his neck. "It is an audacious letter—a vulgar, a cruel letter, dear Charles!" Her emotion increased as her thoughts recurred to the heartless paragraph concerning her brother with which the letter concluded. "I could have overlooked everything butthat," said she, unwittingly. With gentleforce he succeeded in getting hold of the painfully ridiculous and contemptible effusion. He attempted faintly to smile several times as he went on.
"Don't—don't, dearest Charles!" said she, passionately. "I can't bear it!—Don't smile!—It's very far from your heart; you do it only to assureme!"
Here Mr. Aubrey read the paragraph concerning himself. His face turned a little paler than before, and his lips quivered with suppressed emotion. "He is evidently averyfoolish fellow!" he exclaimed, walking towards the window, with his back to his sister, whom he did not wish to see how much he was affected by so petty an incident.
"What does he allude to, Kate, when he talks of your having spoken angrily to him, and that he did not know you?" he inquired, after a few moments' pause, returning to her.
"Oh, dear!—I am sogrievedthat you should have noticed it—but since you ask I will not deceive you!" and she told him the disgusting occurrence alluded to in the letter. Mr. Aubrey drew himself up unconsciously as Kate went on, and she perceived him becoming still paler than before, andfeltthe kindling anger of his eye.
"Forget it—forget it, dearest Charles!—So despicable a being is really not worth a thought," said Kate, with increasing anxiety; for she had never in her life before witnessed her brother the subject of such powerful emotions as then made rigid his slender frame. At length drawing a long breath—
"It is fortunate for him, Kate," said he, calmly, "thatheis not a gentleman, and that Iendeavor to be—a Christian." She flung her arms round him, exclaiming, "There spoke my own noble brother!"
"I shall preserve this letter as a curiosity, Kate," said he, presently, and with a faint smile, and a pointed significanceof manner, which arrested his sister's attention, he added,—"It is rather singular, but some time before you came in, I opened a letter in which your name is mentioned—I cannot say in asimilarmanner, and yet—in short, it is from Lord De la Zouch, enclosing one"——
Miss Aubrey suddenly blushed scarlet, and trembled violently.
"Don't be agitated, my dear Kate, the enclosure is from Lady De la Zouch; and if it be in the same strain of kindness that pervades Lord De la Zouch's letter tome"——
"I would rather thatyouopened and read it, Charles"—she faltered, sinking into a chair.
"Come, come, dear Kate—play the woman!" said her brother, with an affectionate air—"To say that there is nothing in these letters that I believe will interest you—very deeply gratify and interest your feelings—would be"——
"I know—I—I—suspect—I"—— faltered Miss Aubrey, with much agitation—"I shall return."
"Then you shall take these letters with you, and read, or not read them, as you like," said her brother, putting them into her hand with a fond and sorrowful smile, which soon, however, flitted away—and, leading her to the door, he was once more alone; and, after a brief interval of revery, he wrote answers to such of the many letters before him as he considered earliest to require them.
Notwithstanding the judgment and tenderness with which Dr. Tatham discharged the very serious duty which, at the entreaty of his afflicted friends, he had undertaken, of breaking to Mrs. Aubrey the calamity with which she and her family were menaced, the effects of the disclosure had been most disastrous. They occasioned anattack of paralysis; and Mr. Aubrey, who had long been awaiting the issue, in sickening suspense, in an adjoining room, was hastily summoned in to behold a mournful and heart-rending spectacle. His venerable mother—she who had given him life, at the mortal peril of her own; she whom he cherished with unutterable tenderness and reverence; she who doted upon him as upon the light of her eyes; from whose dear lips he had never heard a word of unkindness or severity; whose heart had never known an impulse but of gentle, noble, unbounded generosity towards all around her—this idolized being now lay suddenly prostrated and blighted before him——
Poor Aubrey yielded to his long and violent agony, in the presence of her who could apparently no longer hear or see, or be sensible of what was passing in the chamber.
"My son," said Dr. Tatham, after the first burst of his friend's grief was over, and he knelt down beside his mother with her hand grasped in his, "despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction:
"For whom the Lord loveth, he correcteth, even as a father the son in whom he delighteth.
"The Lord will not cast off forever;
"But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies.
"For he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men."
It was with great difficulty that Dr. Tatham could render himself audible while uttering these soothing and solemn passages of Scripture in the ear of his distracted friend, beside whom he knelt.
Mrs. Aubrey had suffered a paralytic seizure, and lay motionless and insensible; her features slightly disfigured, but partially concealed beneath her long silvery gray hair,which had, in the suddenness of the fit, strayed from beneath her cap.
"But what am I about?" at length exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, with a languid and alarmed air—"has medical assistance"——
"Dr. Goddart and Mr. Whately are both sent for by several servants, and will doubtless be very quickly here," replied Dr. Tatham; and while he yet spoke, Mr. Whately—who, when hastened on by the servant who had been sent for him, was entering the park on a visit to young Mrs. Aubrey, who was also seriously ill and in peculiarly critical circumstances—entered the room, and immediately resorted to the necessary measures. Soon afterwards, also, Dr. Goddart arrived; but alas, how little could they do for the venerable sufferer!
During the next, and for many ensuing days, the lodge was assailed by very many anxious and sympathizing inquirers, who were answered by Waters, whom Mr. Aubrey—oppressed by the number of friends who hurried up to the Hall, and insisted upon seeing him to ascertain the extent to which the dreadful rumors were correct—had stationed there during the day to afford the requisite information. The Hall was pervaded by a gloom which could befelt. Every servant had a woe-begone look, and moved about as if a funeral were stirring. Little Charles and Agnes, almost imprisoned in their nursery, seemed quite puzzled and confused at the strange unusual seriousness, and quietness, and melancholy faces everywhere about them. Kate romped not with them as had been her wont; but would constantly burst into tears as she held them on her knee or in her arms, trying to evade the continual questioning of Charles. "I think it will be time formeto cry too, by-and-by!" said he to her one day, with an air half in jest and half in earnest, that made poor Kate's tears flow afresh. Sleepless nights and daysof sorrow soon told upon her appearance. Her glorious buoyancy of spirits, which erewhile, as it were, had filled the whole Hall with gladness—where were they now? Ah, me! the rich bloom had disappeared from her beautiful cheek; but her high spirit, though oppressed, was not broken, and she stood firmly and calmly amid the scowling skies and lowering tempests. You fancied you saw her auburn tresses stirred upon her pale but calm brow by the breath of the approaching storm; and that she also felt it, but trembled not, gazing on it with a bright and steadfast eye. Herheartmight be, indeed, bruised and shaken; but herspiritwas, ay, unconquerable. My glorious Kate, how my heart goes forth towards you!
And thou, her brother, who art of kindred spirit; who art supported by philosophy, and exalted by religion, so that thy constancy cannot be shaken or overthrown by the black and ominous swell of trouble which is increasing and closing around thee, I know that thou wilt outlive the storm—and yet it rocks thee!
A month or two may see thee and thine expelled from Old Yatton, and not merely having lost everything, but with a liability to thy successor which will hang round thy neck like a millstone. What, indeed, is to become of you all? Whither will you go? And your suffering mother, should she indeed survive so long, is her precious form to be borne away from Yatton?
Around thee stand those who, if thou fallest, will perish—and that thou knowest; around thy calm, sorrowful, but erect figure, are a melancholy group—thy afflicted mother—the wife of thy bosom—thy two little children—thy brave and beautiful sister—Yet think not, Misfortune! that over this man thou art about to achieve thy accustomed triumphs. Here, behold, thou hast amanto contend with; nay, more, aChristian man, who hath calmly girded up his loins against the coming fight!
'Twas Sabbath evening, some five weeks or so after the happening of the mournful events above commemorated, and Kate, having spent, as usual, several hours keeping watch beside the silent and motionless figure of her mother, had quitted the chamber for a brief interval, thinking to relieve her oppressed spirits by walking, for a little while, up and down the long gallery. Having slowly paced backwards and forwards once or twice, she rested against the little oriel window at the farthest extremity of the gallery, and gazed with saddened eye upon the setting sun, till at length, in calm grandeur, it disappeared beneath the horizon. 'Twas to Kate a solemn and mournful sign; especially followed as it was by the deepening shadows and gloom of evening. She sighed, and with her hands crossed on her bosom, gazed, with a tearful eye, into the darkening sky, where glittered the brilliant evening star. Thus she remained, a thousand pensive and tender thoughts passing through her mind, till the increasing chills of evening warned her to retire. "I will go," said she to herself, as she walked slowly along, "and try to play the evening hymn—I may not havemanymore opportunities!" With this view, she gently opened the drawing-room door, and, glancing around, found that she should be alone. The fire gave the only light. She opened the organ with a sigh, and then sat down before it for some minutes without touching the keys. At length she struck them very gently, as if fearful of disturbing those who, she soon recollected, were too distant to hear her. Ah! how many associations were stirred up as she played over the simple and solemn air! At length, in a low and rather tremulous voice, she began—
"Soon will the evening star, with silver ray,Shed its mild radiance o'er the sacred day;Resume we, then, ere night and silence reign,The rites which holiness and heaven ordain"——
"Soon will the evening star, with silver ray,Shed its mild radiance o'er the sacred day;Resume we, then, ere night and silence reign,The rites which holiness and heaven ordain"——
She sang the last line somewhat indistinctly; and, overcome by a flood of tender recollections, ceased playing; then, leaning her head upon her hand, she shed tears. At length she resumed—
"Here humbly let us hope our Maker's smileWill crown with sweet success our earthly toil—And here, on each returning Sabbath, join"——
"Here humbly let us hope our Maker's smileWill crown with sweet success our earthly toil—And here, on each returning Sabbath, join"——
Here poor Kate's voice quivered—and after one or two ineffectual attempts to sing the next line, she sobbed, and ceased playing. She remained for several minutes, her face buried in her handkerchief, shedding tears. At length, "I'll play the last verse," thought she, "and then sit down before the fire, and read over the evening service," (feeling for her little prayer-book,) "before I return to poor mamma!" With a firmer hand and voice she proceeded—
"Father of Heaven! in whom our hopes confide,Whose power defends us, and whose precepts guide—In life our guardian, and in death our friend,Glory supreme be thine, till time shall end."
"Father of Heaven! in whom our hopes confide,Whose power defends us, and whose precepts guide—In life our guardian, and in death our friend,Glory supreme be thine, till time shall end."
She played and sang these lines with a kind of solemn energy; and she felt as if a ray of heavenly light had trembled for a moment upon her upturned eye. She had not been, as she had supposed, alone; in the farthest corner of the room had been all the while sitting her brother—too exquisitely touched by the simplicity and goodness of his sweet sister, to apprise her of his presence. Several times his feelings had nearly overpowered him; and as she concluded, he arose from his chair, and approaching her, after her first surprise was over,—"Heaven bless you, dear Kate!" said he, taking her hands in his own. Neither of them spoke for a few moments.
"I could not have sung a line, or played, if I had known that you were here," said she, tremulously.
"I thought so, Kate, and therefore I remained silent"—
"I don't think I shall ever have heart to play again!" she replied—they were both silent.
"Be assured, Kate, that submission to the will of God," said Mr. Aubrey, as (he with his arm round his sister) they walked slowly to and fro, "is the great lesson to be learned from the troubles of life; and for that purpose they are sent. Let us bear up awhile; the waters will not go over our heads!"
"I hope not," replied his sister, faintly, and in tears. "How did you leave Agnes, Charles?"
"She was asleep; she is still very feeble"—— Here the door was suddenly opened, and Miss Aubrey's maid entered hastily, exclaiming, "Are you here, ma'am?—or sir?"
"Here we are," they replied, hurrying towards her; "what is the matter?"
"Oh, Madam istalking! She began speaking all of a sudden. She did, indeed, sir. She's talking, and"—— continued the girl, almost breathless.
"My mother talking!" exclaimed Aubrey, with an amazed air.
"Oh yes, sir! she is—she is, indeed!"
Miss Aubrey sank into her brother's arms, overcome for a moment with the sudden and surprising intelligence.
"Rouse yourself, Kate!" he exclaimed with animation; "did I not tell you that Heaven would not forget us? But I must hasten up-stairs, to hear the joyful sounds with my own ears—and do you follow as soon as you can." Leaving her in the care of her maid, he hastened out of the room, and was soon at the door of his mother's chamber. He stood for a moment in the doorway, and his straining ears caught the gentle tones of his mother'svoice, speaking in a low but cheerful tone. His knees trembled beneath him with joyful excitement. Fearful of trusting himself in her presence till he had become calmer, he noiselessly sank on the nearest chair, with beating heart and straining ear—ay, every tone of that dear voice thrilled through his heart. But I shall not torture myself or my reader by dwelling upon the scene which ensued. Alas! the venerable sufferer's tongue was indeed loosed;—but reason had fled! He listened—he distinguished her words. She supposed that all her children—dead and alive—were romping about her; she spoke of him and his sister as she had spoken to them twenty years ago!
As soon as he had made this woful discovery, overwhelmed with grief, he staggered out of the room; and motioning his sister, who was entering, into an adjoining apartment, communicated to her, with great agitation, the lamentable condition of their mother.
The chief corner-stone suddenly found wanting in the glittering fabric of Mr. Titmouse's fortune, so that, to the eyes of its startled architects, Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, it seemed momentarily threatening to tumble about their ears, was a certain piece of evidence which, being a matter-of-fact man, I should like to explain to the reader, before we get on any farther. In order, however, to do this effectually, I must go back to an earlier period in the history than has been yet called to his attention. I make no doubt, that by the superficial and impatientnovel-reader, certain portions of what has gone before, and which could not fail of attracting the attention of long-headed people, as not likely to have been thrown in for nothing, (and therefore requiring to be borne in mind with a view to subsequent explanation,) have been entirely overlooked or forgotten. However this may be, I can fancy that the sort of reader whom I have in my eye, as one whose curiosity it is worth some pains to excite, and sustain, has more than once asked himself the following question, viz.—
How did Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, first come to be acquainted with the precarious tenure by which Mr. Aubrey held the Yatton property?—Why, it chanced in this wise.
Mr. Parkinson of Grilston, who has been already introduced to the reader, had succeeded to his father's first-rate business as a country attorney and solicitor in Yorkshire. He was a highly honorable, painstaking man, and deservedlyenjoyed the entire confidence of all his numerous and influential clients. Some twelve years before the period at which this history commences, he had, from pure kindness, taken into his service an orphan boy of the name of Steggars, at first merely as a sort of errand-boy, and to look after the office. He soon, however, displayed so much sharpness, and acquitted himself so creditably in anything that he happened to be concerned in, a little above the run of his ordinary duties, that in the course of a year or two he became a sort of clerk, and sat and wrote at the desk it had formerly been his sole province to dust. Higher and higher did he rise, in process of time, in his master's estimation; and at length became quite afactotum—as such, acquainted with the whole course of business that passed through the office. Many interesting matters connected with the circumstances and connections of the neighboring nobility and gentry were thus constantly brought under his notice, and now and then set him thinking whether the knowledge thus acquired could not, in some way, and at some time or another, be turned to his own advantage; for I am sorry to say that he was utterly unworthy of the kindness and confidence of Mr. Parkinson, who little thought that in Steggars he had to deal with—a rogue in grain. Such being his character, and such his opportunities, this worthy had long made a practice of minuting down, from time to time, anything of interest or importance in the affairs of his betrayed master's clients—even laboriously copying long documents, when he thought them of importance enough for his purpose, and had the opportunity of doing so without attracting the attention of Mr. Parkinson. He thus silently acquired a mass of information which might have enabled him to occasion great annoyance, and even inflict serious injury; and the precise object he had in view, was either to force himself, hereafter, into partnership with hisemployer, (provided he could get regularly introduced into the profession,) or even compel his master's clients to receive him into their confidence, adversely to Mr. Parkinson; and make it worth his while to keep the secrets of which he had become possessed. So careful ought to be, and indeed generally are, attorneys and solicitors, as to the characters of those whom they thus receive into their employ. On the occasion of Mr. Aubrey's intended marriage with Miss St. Clair, with a view to the very liberal settlements which he contemplated, a full "Abstract" of his "Title" was laid by Mr. Parkinson before his conveyancer, in order to advise, and to prepare the necessary instruments. Owing to inquiries suggested by the conveyancer, additional statements were laid before him; and produced an opinion of a somewhat unsatisfactory description, from which I shall lay before the reader the following paragraph:—
"...There seems no reason for supposing that any descendant of Stephen Dreddlington is now in existence;[22] still,as it is by no means physically impossible that such a person may be in esse, it would unquestionably be most important to the security of Mr. Aubrey's title, to establish clearly the validity of the conveyance by way of mortgage, executed by Harry Dreddlington, and which was afterwards assigned to Geoffrey Dreddlington on his paying off the money borrowed by his deceased uncle; since the descent of Mr. Aubrey from Geoffrey Dreddlington would, in that event, clothe him with an indefeasible title at law, by virtue of that deed; and any equitable rights which were originally outstanding, would be barred by lapse of time. But the difficulty occurring to my mind on this part of the case is, that unless Harry Dreddlington, who executed that deed of mortgage, survived his father, (a point on which I am surprised that I am furnished with no information,) the deed itself would have been mere waste parchment, as in reality the conveyance of a person whonever had any interestin the Yatton property—and, of course, neither GeoffreyDreddlington, nor his descendant, Mr. Aubrey, could derive any right whatever under such an instrument. In that case, such a contingency as I have above hinted at—I mean the existence of any legitimate descendant of Stephen Dreddlington—might have a most serious effect upon the rights of Mr. Aubrey."
"...There seems no reason for supposing that any descendant of Stephen Dreddlington is now in existence;[22] still,as it is by no means physically impossible that such a person may be in esse, it would unquestionably be most important to the security of Mr. Aubrey's title, to establish clearly the validity of the conveyance by way of mortgage, executed by Harry Dreddlington, and which was afterwards assigned to Geoffrey Dreddlington on his paying off the money borrowed by his deceased uncle; since the descent of Mr. Aubrey from Geoffrey Dreddlington would, in that event, clothe him with an indefeasible title at law, by virtue of that deed; and any equitable rights which were originally outstanding, would be barred by lapse of time. But the difficulty occurring to my mind on this part of the case is, that unless Harry Dreddlington, who executed that deed of mortgage, survived his father, (a point on which I am surprised that I am furnished with no information,) the deed itself would have been mere waste parchment, as in reality the conveyance of a person whonever had any interestin the Yatton property—and, of course, neither GeoffreyDreddlington, nor his descendant, Mr. Aubrey, could derive any right whatever under such an instrument. In that case, such a contingency as I have above hinted at—I mean the existence of any legitimate descendant of Stephen Dreddlington—might have a most serious effect upon the rights of Mr. Aubrey."
Now every line of this opinion, and also even of the Abstract of Title upon which it was written, did this quicksighted young scoundrel copy out, and deposit, as a great prize, in his desk, among other similar notes and memoranda,—little wotting his master, the while, of what his clerk was doing. Some year or two afterwards, the relationship subsisting between Mr. Parkinson and his clerk Steggars, was suddenly determined by a somewhat untoward event; viz. by the latter's decamping with the sum of £700 sterling, being the amount of money due on a mortgage which he had been sent to receive from a client of Mr. Parkinson's. Steggars fled for it—but first having bethought himself of the documents to which I have been alluding, and which he carried with him to London. Hot pursuit was made after the enterprising Mr. Steggars, who was taken into custody two or three days after his arrival in town, while he was walking about the streets, with the whole of the sum which he had embezzled,minusa few pounds, upon his person, in bank-notes. He was quickly deposited in Newgate. His natural sagacity assured him that his case was rather an ugly one; but hope did not desert him.
"Well, my kiddy," said Grasp, the grim-visaged, gray-headed turnkey, as soon as he had ushered Steggars into his snug little quarters; "here you are, you see—isn't you?"
"I think I am," replied Steggars, with a sigh.
"Well—and if you want to have a chance of not going across the water afore your time, you'll get yourselfdefended, and the sooner the better, d'ye see. There'sQuirk,Gammon, andSnap—my eyes! how theydothin this here place of ours, to be sure! The only thing is to get 'em soon; 'cause, ye see, they're so run after. Shall I send them to you?"
Steggars answered eagerly in the affirmative. In order to account for this spontaneous good-nature on the part of Grasp, I must explain that old Mr. Quirk had for years secured a highly respectable criminal practice, by having in his interest most of the officers attached to the police-offices and Newgate. He gave, in fact, systematic gratuities to these gentry, in order to get their recommendations to the persecuted individuals who came into their power. Very shortly after Grasp's messenger had reached Saffron Hill, with the intelligence that "there wassomething new in the trap," old Quirk bustled down to Newgate, and was introduced to Steggars, with whom he was closeted for some time. He took a lively interest in his new client, to whose narrative of his flight and capture he listened in a very kind and sympathizing way, lamenting the severity of the late statute applicable to the case;[23] and promised to do for him whatever his little skill and experiencecoulddo. He hinted however, that, as Mr. Steggars must be aware, alittleready money would be required, in order to fee counsel—whereat Steggars looked very dismal indeed, and knowing the state of his exchequer, imagined himself already on shipboard, on his way to Botany Bay. Old Mr. Quirk asked him if he had no friends who would raise a trifle for a "chum in trouble,"—and on Mr. Steggars answering in the negative, he observed the enthusiasm of the respectable old gentleman visibly and rapidly cooling down.
"But I'll tell you what, sir," said poor Steggars, suddenly, "if I haven't money, I may havemoney's worthat my command;—I've a little box, that's at my lodging,which those that catched me knew nothing of—and in which there is a trifle or two about the families and fortunes of some of the first folk in the best part of Yorkshire, that would be precious well worth looking after, to those who know how to follow up such matters."
Old Quirk hereat pricked up his ears, and asked his young friend how he got possessed of such secrets.
"Oh fie! fie!" said he, gently, as soon as Steggars had told him the practices of which I have already put the reader in possession.
"Ah—you may say fie! fie! if you like," quoth Steggars, earnestly; "but the thing is, not how they were come by, but what can be done with them, now they're got. For example, there's a certain member of parliament in Yorkshire, that, high as he may hold his head, has no more right to the estates that yield him a good ten thousand a-year than I have, but keeps some folk out of their own, that could pay some other folk a round sum to be put in the way of getting their own;" and that—intimated the suffering captive—was onlyoneof the good things he knew of. Here old Quirk rubbed his chin, hemmed, fidgeted about in his seat, took off his glasses, wiped them, replaced them; and presently went through that ceremony again. He then said that he had had the honor of being concerned for a great number of gentlemen in Mr. Steggars' "present embarrassed circumstances," but who had always been able to command at least a five-pound note, at starting, to run a heat for liberty.
"Come, come, old gentleman," quoth Steggars, earnestly, "I don't want to go over the water before my time, if I can help it, I assure you; and I see you know the value of what I've got! Such a gentleman as you can turn every bit of paper I have in my box into a fifty-pound note."
"All this is moonshine, my young friend," said old Quirk, in an irresolute tone and manner.
"Ah! is it, though? To be able to tell the owner of a fat ten thousand a-year, that you can spring a mine under his feet at any moment—eh?—and no one ever know how you came by your knowledge. And if they wouldn't do what was handsome, couldn't youget the right heir—and wouldn'tthat—Lord! it would make the fortunes of half-a-dozen of the first houses in the profession!" Old Quirk got a little excited.
"But mind, sir—you see"—said Steggars, "if I get off, I'm not to be cut out of the thing altogether—eh? I shall look to be taken into your employ, and dealt handsomely by"——
"Oh Lord!" exclaimed Quirk, involuntarily—adding quickly, "Yes, yes! to be sure! only fair; but let us first get you out of your present difficulty, you know!" Steggars, having first exacted from him a written promise to use his utmost exertions on his (Steggars') behalf, and secure him the services of two of the most eminent Old Bailey counsel—viz. Mr. Bluster and Mr. Slang—gave Mr. Quirk the number of the house where the precious box was, and a written order to the landlord to deliver it up to the bearer: after which Mr. Quirk shook him cordially by the hand, and having quitted the prison, made his way straight to the house in question, and succeeded in obtaining what he asked for. He faithfully performed his agreement, with Steggars; for he retained both Bluster and Slang for him, and got up their briefs with care: but, alas! although these eminent men exerted all their great powers, they succeeded not in either bothering the judge, bamboozling the jury, or browbeating the witnesses, (the principal one of whom was Mr. Parkinson;) Steggars was found guilty and sentenced to be transported for fourteen years.[24] Enraged at this issue,he sent a message the next day to Mr. Quirk, requesting a visit from him. When he arrived, Steggars, in a very violent tone, demanded that his papers should be returned to him. 'Twas in vain that Mr. Quirk explained to him again and again his interesting position with reference to his goods, chattels, and effects—i. e.that, as a convicted felon, he had no further concern with them, and might dismiss all anxiety on that score from his mind. Steggars hereat got more furious than before, and intimated plainly the course he should feel it his duty to pursue—viz. that, if the papers in question were not given up to him as he desired, he should at once write off to his late employer, Mr. Parkinson, and acknowledge how much more he (Steggars) had wronged that gentleman and his clients, than he supposed of. Old Quirk very feelingly represented to him that he was at liberty to do anything that he thought calculated to relieve his excited feelings: and then Mr. Quirk took a final farewell of his client, wishing him health and happiness.
"I say, Grasp!" said he, in a whisper, to that grim functionary, as soon as he had secured poor Steggars in his cell, "that bird is a little ruffled just now—isn't he, think you?"
"Lud, sir, that's the nat'ralist thing in the world, considering"——
"Well—if he should want a letter taken to any one, whatever he may say to the contrary, you'll send it on to Saffron Hill—eh? Understand?—He may be injuring himself, you know;" and old Quirk with one hand clasped the huge arm of Grasp in a familiar way, and with the forefinger of the other touched his own nose, and then winked his eye.
"All right!" quoth Grasp, and they parted. Within a very few hours' time, Mr. Quirk received, by the hand of a trusty messenger, from Grasp, a letter written bySteggars to Mr. Parkinson; a long and eloquent letter, to the purport and effect which Steggars had intimated. Mr. Quirk read it with much satisfaction, for it disclosed a truly penitent feeling, and a desire to undo as much mischief as the writer had done. He (Mr. Quirk) was not in the least exasperated by certain very plain terms in which his own name was mentioned; but making all due allowances, quietly put the letter in the fire as soon as he had read it. In due time Mr. Steggars, whose health had suffered from close confinement, caught frequent whiffs of the fresh sea-breeze, having set out, under most favorable auspices, for Botany Bay; to which distant but happy place, he had been thus fortunate in early securing an "appointment" for so considerable a portion of his life.
Such, then, were the miserable means by which Mr. Quirk became acquainted with the exact state of Mr. Aubrey's title; on first becoming apprised of which, Mr. Gammon either felt, or affected, great repugnance to taking any part in the affair. He appeared to suffer himself, at length, however, to be over-persuaded by Quirk into acquiescence; and, that point gained—having ends in view of which Mr. Quirk had not the least conception, and which, in fact, had but suddenly occurred to Mr. Gammon himself—worked his materials with a caution, skill, energy, and perseverance, which soon led to important results. Guided by the suggestions of acute and experienced counsel, after much pains and considerable expense, they had succeeded in discovering that precious specimen of humanity, Tittlebat Titmouse, who hath already figured so prominently in this history. When they came to set down on paper the result of all their researches and inquiries, in order to submit it in the shape of a case for the opinion of Mr. Mortmain and Mr. Frankpledge, in the manner described in a former part of thishistory, it looked perfecton paper, as many a faulty pedigree and abstract of title had looked before, and will yet look. It was quite possible for even Mr. Tresayle himself to overlook the defect which had been pointed out by Mr. Subtle. That which is stated to a conveyancer, asa fact—any particular event, for instance, as of a death, a birth, or a marriage, at a particular time or place, which the very nature of the case renders highly probable—he is warranted in assuming to be so. But when the same statement comes—with quite a different object—under the experienced eye of anisi priuslawyer, who knows that he will have toprovehis case, step by step, the aspect of things is soon changed. "De nonapparentibus, et de nonexistentibus," saith the law, "eadem est ratio." The first practitioner in the common law, before whom the case came, in its roughest and earliest form, in order that he might "lick it into shape," and "advise generally" preparatory to its "being laid before counsel," was Mr. Traverse, a young pleader, whom Messrs. Quirk and Gammon were disposed to take by the hand. He wrote a very showy, but superficial and delusive opinion; and put the intendedprotégéof his clients, as it were by a kind of hop, step, and jump, into possession of the Yatton estates. Quirk was quite delighted on reading it; but Gammon shook his head with a somewhat sarcastic smile, and said he would at once prepare a case for the opinion of Mr. Lynx, whom he had pitched upon as the junior counsel in any proceedings which might be instituted in a court of law. Lynx (of whom I shall speak hereafter) was an experienced, hard-headed, vigilant, and accurate lawyer; the very man for such a case, requiring, as it did, most patient and minute examination. With an eye fitted