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The Dark House: A Knot Unravelled, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 4. The Lawyer's Tin Box |
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_ CHAPTER FOUR. THE LAWYER'S TIN BOX "This has been a terrible week, Katrine," said Lydia Lawrence, taking her cousin's hand. "Do you think so?" "Oh, yes. I have not your _sang froid_. I would give anything to go back to the country." "I have been curious to know all about the will. That old man has been maddening. He might have spoken." "But his instructions, clear. The will was to be read after he had lain there a week." "Lain in state," said Katrine, with a curl of her lip. "With a savage crouching on a lion-skin at his door like some dog. Pah! It is absurd. More like a scent in a French play than a bit of nineteenth century life." Lydia sighed. "I felt greatly relieved when those dreadful men had gone." "What, the Italian professors? Pooh! what a child you are. I did not mind." Lydia gazed at her with a feeling of shrinking wonder, and there was something almost fierce in the beautiful eyes, as Katrine sat there by one of the tables of the ill-lit drawing-room, the two pairs of wax candles in old-fashioned silver sticks seeming to emit but a feeble light, and but for the warm glow of the fire, the great room would have been sombre in the extreme. "What time is it, Lydia? There, don't start like that. What a kitten you are." "You spoke so suddenly, dear. It is half-past ten." "Only half-past ten. Nearly an hour and a half before the play begins. I wish we had kept the tea things." "Pray don't speak so lightly, Katrine." "I can't help it. It is so absurd for the old man to have left instructions for all this meretricious romance to surround his end. As for old Girtle, he seems to delight in it, and goes about the house rubbing his hands like an undertaker." "Katrine!" "Well, he does. Will read at half-past eleven at night on the tenth day after the old man's death. It is absurd. Ah, well, I suppose a millionaire has a right to be eccentric, if he likes." "Dear Katrine, he was always so good." "Good! Bah! What did he ever do for me? He hated my branch of the family, and our Creole blood. As if the D'Enghiens were not a fine old French family before the Capels were heard of." "But Katrine--" "I will speak. I was dragged here to be present at this mummery, to have for my share a hundred pounds to buy mourning, and I vow I'll spend it in Chinese mourning, and wear yellow instead of black. Why don't those men come up instead of sitting smoking in that dining-room and leaving us alone in this mausoleum of a place? Here, ring, and send for them; I'm getting nervous, too. I'm catching it from you--weak little baby that you are." At that moment the door opened, and the two young men entered to go up to them, both speaking to Lydia, and then drawing their chairs nearer to Katrine. "Are you nearly ready for the play, Mr Capel?" she said, after a time. "The play!" he exclaimed. "Yes; the curtain will rise directly. How do you feel, Gerard?" "Oh, I don't know. I want to hear how many chips the old boy has left me. Deuced glad to get out of this tomb. I say, would you mind me lighting a cigar?" "I don't mind," said Katrine, lightly. "Would you mind, Miss Lawrence?" "Mind--your smoking--here?" said Lydia hastily. "I--I don't think I should, but--" "No, no," said Capel; "it is impossible. For heaven's sake, pay a little respect to the ladies, if you cannot to the dead." Artis started to his feet. "Look here, Paul Capel," he cried angrily; "you have taken upon yourself several times since I have been locked-up here with you to use confoundedly offensive language to me. How dare you speak to me like that?" "Dare?" cried Capel, rising. "Pooh!" he ejaculated, throwing himself back, and glancing at Katrine, whose eyes seemed to flash with eager pleasure, while Lydia half rose, with extended hands; "I am forgetting myself." Lydia sank back with a sigh, while Katrine's eyes flashed, and her lip curled. "Forgetting yourself!" cried Artis. "By Jove, sir, you've done nothing else! I suppose you expect to have all the old man's money, but we shall see." "Don't be alarmed, Miss Lawrence," said Capel, smiling. "I am not going to quarrel. Ah, here is Mr Girtle." The door opened, and Charles entered, with two more lighted candles, one in each hand, preceding Mr Girtle, who came in bearing a large tin deed box. This he slowly proceeded to place upon the carpet beside a small table, on which Charles deposited the candlesticks. "I think I am punctual," said the lawyer, taking his old gold watch from his fob, and replacing it with a nod. "Yes, nearly half-past eleven. Charles, will you summon all the servants. I think everyone is mentioned in the will," he added, as Charles left the room. "You will excuse all formalities. I am strictly obeying instructions as to time and place." The old gentleman took a jingling bunch of keys from his pocket, bent down and opened the tin box, from which he took out a square folded parchment, crossed with broad green ribbons, and bearing a great seal. This he laid upon the table before him, and sinking back in his chair, proceeded to deliberately take snuff. A dead silence reigned, and, in spite of himself, Paul Capel felt agitated, and sought from time to time to catch Katrine's eye; while Lydia looked from one to the other sadly, and Gerard Artis lay back in his chair. The door once more opened, and the servants filed in, led by Preenham, the butler, Ramo coming last, to stand with his arms folded and his head bent down upon his chest. "Be seated," said Mr Girtle; and his voice sounded solemn and strange. There was a rustling as the servants sat down in a row near the door, Ramo doubling his legs beneath him, and crouching on the floor. "The last will and testament of John Arthur Capel, late Colonel in the Honourable East India Company's Service, Special Commissioner with her Highness the Ranee of Illahad; Resident at the court of her Highness the Begum of Rahahbad!" So read the confidential solicitor and friend of the deceased, in a husky voice, his gold-rimmed glasses helping him to decipher the brown writing or endorsement of the yellow parchment. Then he continued:-- "I have followed out the instructions of the deceased to the letter, so far; and now, in continuance of these instructions, in your presence, I proceed to break this seal." _ |
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