The Monikins. Джеймс Фенимор Купер

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СКАЧАТЬ deceased on his death-bed with his own hands. It is, as you see, sealed with his seal and especially addressed to me in his own handwriting, and it is not violent to suppose that the contents concern me only. Still, as you take so great an interest in the affairs of the deceased, it shall now be opened, and those contents, so far as you can have any right to know them, shall not be hid from you.”

      I thought Sir Joseph looked grave when he saw the packet and had examined the handwriting of the envelope. All, however, expressed their satisfaction that the search was now most probably ended. I broke the seals and exposed the contents of the envelope. Within it there were several smaller packets, each sealed with the seal of the deceased, and each addressed to me in his own handwriting like the external covering. Each of these smaller packets, too, had a separate indorsement of its contents. Taking them as they lay, I read aloud the nature of each before I proceeded to the next. They were also numbered.

      “No. 1,” I commenced. “Certificates of public stock held by Tho. Goldencalf, June 12th, 1815.” We were now at June 29th of the same year. As I laid aside this packet I observed that the sum indorsed on its back greatly exceeded a million. “No. 2. Certificates of Bank of England stock.” This sum was several hundred thousands of pounds. “No. 3. South Sea Annuities.” Nearly three hundred thousand pounds. “No. 4. Bonds and mortgages.” Four hundred and thirty thousand pounds. “No. 5. The bond of Sir Joseph Job for sixty-three thousand pounds.”

      I laid down the paper and involuntarily exclaimed, “Property is in danger!” Sir Joseph turned pale, but he beckoned to me to proceed, saying, “We shall soon come to the will, sir.”

      “No. 6.—” I hesitated; for it was an assignment to myself, which from its very nature I perceived was an abortive attempt to escape the payment of the legacy duty.

      “Well, sir, No. 6?” inquired Sir Joseph, with tremulous exultation.

      “Is an instrument affecting myself, and with which you have no concern, sir.”

      “We shall see, sir, we shall see, sir—if you refuse to exhibit the paper there are laws to compel you.”

      “To do what, Sir Joseph Job? To exhibit to my father's debtors' papers that are exclusively addressed to me and which can affect me only? But here is the paper, gentlemen, that you so much desire to see. 'No. 7. The last will and testament of Tho. Goldencalf, dated June 17th, 1816.'” (He died June the 24th of the same year.)

      “Ah! the precious instrument!” exclaimed Sir Joseph Job, eagerly extending his hand as if expecting to receive the will.

      “This paper, as you perceive, gentlemen,” I said, holding it up in a manner that all present might see it, “is especially addressed to myself, and it shall not quit my hands until I learn that some other has a better right to it.”

      I confess my heart failed me as I broke the seals, for I had seen but little of my father and I knew that he had been a man of very peculiar opinions as well as habits. The will was all in his own handwriting, and it was very short. Summoning courage I read it aloud in the following words:

      “In the name of God—Amen: I, Tho. Goldencalf, of the parish of Bow, in the city of London, do publish and declare this instrument to be my last will and testament:

      “That is to say; I bequeath to my only child and much-beloved son, John Goldencalf, all my real estate in the parish of Bow and city of London, aforesaid, to be held in free-simple by him, his heirs, and assigns, forever.

      “I bequeath to my said only child and much-beloved son, John Goldencalf, all my personal property of every sort and description whatever of which I may die possessed, including bonds and mortgages, public debt, bank stock, notes of hand, goods and chattels, and all others of my effects, to him, his heirs, or assigns.

      “I nominate and appoint my said much-beloved son, John Goldencalf, to be the sole executor of this my last will and testament, counselling him not to confide in any of those who may profess to have been my friends; and particularly to turn a deaf ear to all the pretensions and solicitations of Sir Joseph Job, Knight. In witness whereof,” etc., etc.

      This will was duly executed, and it was witnessed by the nurse, his confidential clerk, and the housemaid.

      “Property is in danger, Sir Joseph!” I dryly remarked, as I gathered together the papers in order to secure them.

      “This will may be set aside, gentlemen!” cried the knight in a fury. “It contains a libel!”

      “And for whose benefit, Sir Joseph?” I quietly inquired. “With or without the will my title to my father's assets would seem to be equally valid.”

      This was so evidently true that the more prudent retired in silence; and even Sir Joseph after a short delay, during which he appeared to be strangely agitated, withdrew. The next week his failure was announced, in consequence of some extravagant risks on 'Change, and eventually I received but three shillings and fourpence in the pound for my bond of sixty-three thousand.

      When the money was paid I could not help exclaiming mentally, “Property is in danger!”

      The following morning Sir Joseph Job balanced his account with the world by cutting his throat.

CHAPTER V. ABOUT THE SOCIAL-STAKE SYSTEM, THE DANGERS OF CONCENTRATION, AND OTHER MORAL AND IMMORAL CURIOSITIES.

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      The affairs of my father were almost as easy of settlement as those of a pauper. In twenty-four hours I was completely master of them, and found myself if not the richest, certainly one of the richest subjects of Europe. I say subjects, for sovereigns frequently have a way of appropriating the effects of others that would render a pretension to rivalry ridiculous. Debts there were none: and if there had been, ready money was not wanting; the balance in cash in my favor at the bank amounted in itself to a fortune.

      The reader may now suppose that I was perfectly happy. Without a solitary claim on either my time or my estate, I was in the enjoyment of an income that materially exceeded the revenues of many reigning princes. I had not an ex-pensive nor a vicious habit of any sort. Of houses, horses, hounds, packs, and menials, there were none to vex or perplex me. In every particular save one I was completely my own master. That one was the near, dear, cherished sentiment that rendered Anna in my eyes an angel (and truly she was little short of it in those of other people), and made her the polar star to which every wish pointed. How gladly would I have paid half a million just then to be the grandson of a baronet with precedency from the seventeenth century!

      There was, however, another and a present cause for un-easiness that gave me even more concern than the fact that my family reached the dark ages with so much embarrassing facility. In witnessing the dying agony of my ancestor I had got a dread lesson on the vanity, the hopeless character, the dangers, and the delusions of wealth that time can never eradicate. The history of its accumulation was ever present to mar the pleasure of its possession. I do not mean that I suspected what by the world's convention is deemed dishonesty—of that there had been no necessity—but simply that the heartless and estranged existence, the waste of energies, the blunted charities, and the isolated and distrustful habits of my father appeared to me to be but poorly requited by the joyless ownership of its millions. I would have given largely to be directed in such a way as while escaping the wastefulness of the shoals of Scylla I might in my own case steer clear of the miserly rocks of Charybdis.

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