Only One Love; or, Who Was the Heir. Garvice Charles

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “Dear, dear,” murmured Stephen regretfully. “Poor Slummers. It is not his fault. He is a worthy fellow, but too sympathetic, and my uncle’s illness quite upset him – ”

      “Hush!” interrupted Mr. Hudsley, holding up his finger and bending down.

      “Squire, do you know me? I am Hudsley.”

      The dying man moved his hand faintly in assent.

      “Yes. Have you done as I told you?”

      “You have told me nothing yet.”

      “The safe! – the key! – the pillow!” said the Squire.

      Hudsley caught his meaning and felt under the pillow, and Stephen, as if to assist, thrust his hand under, and withdrew it with the key in his fingers.

      “Why – again?” came the voice, broken and impatient. “You have done it! you have burnt the first.”

      “What is he saying?” he asked.

      “You have burned it; show me the other – the last; let me – touch it.”

      Hudsley opened the safe and took the first will from the drawer.

      “Two, did he say?” he muttered: “there is only one here – the will;” and he came to the bed with it.

      “There is only one will here, of course, squire,” he said, bending down and speaking slowly and distinctly.

      “Yes – you, you have – burned the other. Speak. I cannot see, but I can hear you.”

      “I have burned none,” said Hudsley. “Have only just come – there is only one will here.”

      “Which?” gasped the dying man.

      “The will of January – Mr. Stephen – ”

      Before they could finish, they saw, with horror, the dying man half raise himself, his face livid, his hands wildly clutching the air, his eyes, by accident, turned toward Stephen.

      “You – you thief!” he gasped. “Give it to me! – give – give – oh, God! Too late? – too la – ”

      It was too late. Before the nurse and Jack could rush into the room, horrified by the shriek which rang from Stephen’s white lips, old Ralph Davenant had fallen back dead!

      CHAPTER VII

      Half an hour afterward Stephen Davenant passed down the stairs on tiptoe, though the tramp of an armed host could not disturb old Ralph Davenant now – passed down with his hand pressed against his breast pocket, in which lay the stolen will. Had the sheet of blue foolscap been composed of red-hot iron instead of paper, Stephen could not have felt its presence more distinctly and uncomfortably; it seemed to burn right through his clothes and scorch his heart; he could almost fancy, in his overstrained state, that it could be seen through his coat.

      He paused a moment outside the library door, one white hand fingering his pale lips, the other vainly striving to keep away from his breast pocket, and listened to the tramp, tramp of Jack as he walked up and down the room. Any other face would have been more endurable than Jack’s, with its fiercely frank gaze and outspoken contempt.

      At last he opened the door and entered, his handkerchief in his hand. Jack stopped and looked at him.

      “I have been waiting for you,” he said.

      “My poor uncle!”

      Jack looked at him with keen scrutiny, mingled with unconcealed scorn.

      “I have been waiting for you, in case you wished to say anything before I went.”

      “What?” murmured Stephen, with admirably feigned surprise and regret. “You will not go, my dear Jack! not to-night.”

      “Yes, to-night,” said Jack quietly. “I couldn’t stop in the house – I shall go to the inn.”

      “But – ”

      “No, thanks!” said Jack, cutting him short.

      “Oh, do not thank me,” murmured Stephen, meekly. “I may have no right to offer you hospitality, the house may be yours.”

      “Well, I think you could give a pretty good guess on that point,” said Jack, bluntly; “but let that pass. I am going to the ‘Bush.’ If you or Mr. Hudsley want me – where is Hudsley?” he broke off to inquire.

      “Mr. Hudsley is up-stairs sealing up the safe and things,” said Stephen humbly. “He wished me to assist him, but I had rather that he should do it alone – perhaps you would go through the house with him?”

      Jack shook his head.

      “As you please,” murmured Stephen, with a resigned sigh. “Mr. Hudsley is quite sufficient; he knows where everything of importance is kept. You will have some refreshments after your journey, my dear Jack?”

      “No, thanks,” said Jack; “I want nothing – I couldn’t eat anything. I’ll go now.”

      “Are you going, Mr. Newcombe?” said Mr. Hudsley, entering and looking from one to the other keenly.

      “I am going to the ‘Bush;’ I shall stay there in case I am wanted.”

      “The funeral had better be fixed for Saturday. You and Mr. Stephen will be the chief mourners.” Then he turned to Stephen. “I have sealed up most of the things. Is there anything you can suggest?”

      “You know all that is required; we leave everything to you, Mr Hudsley. I think I may speak for my cousin – may I not, Jack?”

      Jack did not reply, but put on his gloves.

      “I will go now,” he said. “Good-night, Mr. Hudsley.”

      The old lawyer looked at him keenly as he took his hand.

      “I shall find you at the ‘Bush?’” he said.

      “Yes,” replied Jack, and was leaving the room when Stephen rose and followed him.

      “Good-night, my dear Jack,” he said. “Will you not shake hands on – on such an occasion?”

      Jack strode to the door and opened it without reply, then turned and, as if with an effort, took the hand which Stephen had kept extended.

      “Good-night,” he said, dropping the cold fingers, and strode out.

      Stephen looked after him a moment with his meek, long-suffering expression of face changed into a malignant smile of triumph, and his hand went up to his breast pocket.

      “Good-night, beggar!” he murmured, and closed the door.

      Mr. Hudsley was still standing by the library-table, toying absently with the keys, a thoughtful frown on his brow, which did not grow any lighter as Stephen entered, making great play with the pocket-handkerchief.

      “I think I also may go now, Mr. Stephen,” he said. “Nothing more can be done to-night. СКАЧАТЬ