The Lost Lady of Lone Part 97

John Scott was not an invited guest, either to the castle or the grounds; but he presented himself there, nevertheless, and caused some confusion by his close resemblance to his brother, and much scandal by his improper conduct among the village girls. And many an honest peasant went home from the feast lamenting the behavior of the young heir, and trying to excuse or palliate his viciousness by the vulgar proverb:

"Boys will be boys."

And so the reputation of the young Marquis of Arondelle suffered and continued to suffer from the evil doings of his double.

John Scott kept one part of his compact with the duke; he avoided the family; even when he could not keep away from Lone, he contrived to keep out of sight of the duke, the d.u.c.h.ess, and the marquis.

The young Marquis of Arondelle, indeed, was very little seen at Lone. He was at Cambridge, or on his grand tour, nearly all the time of the family's residence in the Highlands.

John Scott left the university without honors. This was a disappointment to the duke, who did not, however, reproach his wayward son, but only wrote and asked him if he would now take a commission in the army. But the young man, who had lost all his youthful military ardor, and contracted a roving habit that made him averse to all fixed rules and all restraints, replied by saying that his income was sufficient for his wants, and that he preferred the free life of a scholar.

The duke wrote again, and implored him to choose one of the learned professions, saying that it was not yet too late for him to enter upon the study of one.

The hopeful son replied that he was not good enough for divinity, bad enough for law, or wise enough for medicine; that, therefore, he was unsuited to honor either of the learned professions; and begged his guardian to disturb himself no longer on the subject of his ward's future.

Then the duke let him alone, having, in fact, troubles enough of his own to occupy him--a life of superficial splendor, backed by a condition of hopeless indebtedness.

We have already, in the earlier portions of this story, described the short, glorious, delusive reign of the Herewards at Lone, and the culminating glory and ruin of the royal visit, so immediately to be followed by the great crash, when the magnificent estate, with all its splendid appointments, was sold under the hammer, and purchased by the wealthy banker and city knight, Sir Lemuel Levison. We have told how the n.o.ble son--the young Marquis of Arondelle--sacrificed all his life-interest in the entailed estate, to save his father, and how vain that sacrifice proved. We have told how the d.u.c.h.ess died of humiliation and grief, and how the duke and his son went into social exile, until recalled by the romantic love of Salome Levison, who wished to bestow her hand and her magnificent inheritance upon the disinherited heir of Lone.

We have now brought the story of John Scott up to the night of the banker's murder, and his own unintentional share in the tragedy.

At the time of the projected marriage between the Marquis of Arondelle and the heiress of Lone, John Scott was deeply sunk in debt, and badly in want of money.

The capital given him by his father had been so tied up by the donor that nothing but the interest could be touched by the improvident recipient.

It had, in fact, been given to Sir Lemuel Levison in trust for John Scott, with directions to invest it to the best advantage for his benefit.

This duty the banker had most conscientiously performed by investing the money in a mining enterprise, supposed to be perfectly secure and to pay a high interest. This investment continued good for years, affording John Scott a very liberal income; but as John Scott would probably have exceeded any income, however large, that he might have possessed, so of course he exceeded this one and got into debt, which acc.u.mulated year after year, until at length he felt himself forced to ask his trustee to sell out a part of his stock in the mining company to liquidate his liabilities.

This the banker politely but firmly refused to do, representing to the young spendthrift that his duties as a trustee forbade him to squander the capital of his client, and that he had been made trustee for the very purpose of preserving it.

The obstinacy of the banker enraged the young man, who protested that it was unbearable to a man of twenty-five years of age to be in leading-strings to a trustee, as if he were an infant of five years old.

The time came, however, when the trustee was compelled by circ.u.mstances to sell out.

The rare foresight which had made him the millionaire that he was, warned Sir Lemuel Levison that the mining company in which he had invested his ward's fortune was on the eve of an explosion. As no one else perceived the impending catastrophe, Sir Lemuel Levison was enabled to sell out his ward's stock at a good premium some days before the crash came--not an honest measure by any means, _we_ think, but--a perfectly business-like one.

He informed John Scott of the transaction, telling him at the same time that he had the capital of thirty thousand pounds in his possession, ready to be re-invested, and the premium of three hundred pounds, which last was at the orders of Mr. Scott.

Mr. Scott was not contented with the three hundred pounds premium. He wanted a few thousands out of the capital, and he wrote and told his trustee as much.

Sir Lemuel Levison was firm in refusing to diminish the capital that had been placed in his hands for the benefit of the spendthrift.

Then John Scott in a rage, went up to London and called at the banking house of Levison Brothers.

Being admitted to the private office of Sir Lemuel Levison, the young man used some very intemperate language, accusing the great banker of appropriating his own contemptible little fortune for private and unhallowed purposes.

"You are the most unmitigated scamp alive, and I wish I had never had anything to do with you; however, I will convince you that you have wronged me, and then I will wash my hands of you!" exclaimed the banker.

And so saying, he unlocked a great patent safe that stood in his private office, took from it a small iron box, and set it on his desk before him, in full sight of his visitor.

"See here," he continued; "here is this box, read the inscription on it."

The visitor stooped over and read--in bra.s.s letters--the following sentence: "John Scott--30,000."

"Now, sir," continued the banker, opening the box and displaying the treasure, all in crisp, new, Bank of England notes of a thousand pounds each--"here is your money. I cannot betray my trust by giving it into your hands. But I intend, nevertheless, to resign my trust into the hands that gave it me. I am going down to Lone to celebrate the marriage of my daughter with the Marquis of Arondelle, and I shall take this box and its contents down with me. I shall, of course, meet the Duke of Hereward there. As soon as the marriage is over, and the pair gone on their tour, I shall deliver this box with its contents over to the duke, who can then hand over any part or the whole of this money to you, if he pleases to do so."

If any circ.u.mstance could have increased the uneasiness of the spendthrift, it would have been this resolution of the banker and trustee.

John Scott begged Sir Lemuel Levison to reconsider his resolution, and not return his capital to the donor, who, in his impoverished condition, might, for all he knew, choose to resume his gift entirely, and appropriate it to his own uses.

But the banker was inflexible, and the next day set out for Lone, carrying John Scott's fortune locked up in the iron box, besides other treasures in money and jewels, secured in other receptacles.

John Scott was in despair.

At length, a daring plan occurred to his mind. His evil life had brought him into communication with some outlaws of society of both s.e.xes, with whom, however, he would not willingly have been seen in daylight, or in public. One of these--a brutal ruffian and thief, with whose haunts and habits he was well acquainted--he sought out. He gave him an outline of his scheme, telling him of the great treasures in jewels and other bridal presents that would be laid out in the drawing-room at Lone on the night of the sixth of June, in readiness for the wedding display on the morning of the seventh.

The man Murdockson listened with greedy ears.

The tempter then told him of the iron box, inscribed with his own name, and containing _important papers_ which it was necessary he should recover, and proposed that if Murdockson would promise to purloin the iron box from the chamber of Sir Lemuel Levison, and bring it safely to him, John Scott, _he_ would engage to leave the secret pa.s.sage to the castle open for the free entrance of the adventurers.

Murdockson hesitated a long time before consenting to engage in an enterprise which, if it promised great profit, also threatened great dangers.

At length, however, fired by the prospect of the fabulous wealth said to lie exposed in the form of bridal presents displayed in Castle Lone, Mr.

Murdockson promised to form a party and go down to Lone to reconnoitre, and if he should see his way clear, to undertake the job.

The plan was carried out to its full and fatal completion.

Disguised as Highland peasants, Murdockson and two of his pals went down to Lone to inspect the lay.

They mingled with the great crowd of peasantry and tenantry that had collected from far and near to view the grand pageantry prepared for the celebration of the wedding, and their presence in so large an a.s.semblage was scarcely noticed.

They met their princ.i.p.al in the course of the day, and with him arranged the details of the robbery.

One thing John Scott insisted upon--that there was to be no violence, no bloodshed; that if the robbery could not be effected quietly and peaceably, without bodily harm to any inmate, it was not to be done at all, it was to be given up at once.

The men promised all that their princ.i.p.al asked, on condition that he would act his part, and let them into the castle.

That night John Scott did his work, and attained the climax of his evil life.

He tampered with the valet, treated him with drugged whiskey, and while the wretched man was in a stupid sleep, stole from him the pa.s.s-key to Sir Lemuel Levison's private apartment.

We know how that terrible night ended. John Scott could not control the devils he had raised.

Only robbery had been intended; but murder was perpetrated.

John Scott, with the curse of Cain upon his soul, and without the spoil for which he had incurred it, fled to London and afterwards to the Continent, where he became a homeless wanderer for years, and where he was subsequently joined by his female companion, Rose.