The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain Part 88

This was a.s.sented to on the part of Lord Cullamore, and it is only necessary to say, that, in a few days subsequently, his lawyers, upon sifting and thoroughly examining everything that came before them, gave it as their opinion--and both were men of the very highest standing--that his lords.h.i.+p had no defence whatsoever, and that his wisest plan was to yield without allowing the matter to go to a public trial, the details of which must so deeply affect the honor of his children.

This communication, signed in the form of a regular opinion by both these eminent gentlemen, was received by his lords.h.i.+p on the fourth day after Birney's visit to him on the subject.

About a quarter of an hour after he had perused it, his lords.h.i.+p's bell rang, and Morty O'Flaherty, his man, entered.

"Morty," said his lords.h.i.+p, "desire Lord Dunroe to come to me; I wish to speak with him. Is he within?"

"He has just come in, my lord. Yes, my lord, I'll send him up."

His lords.h.i.+p tapped the arms of his easy chair with the lingers of both hands, and looked unconsciously upon his servant, with a face full of the deepest sorrow and anguish.

The look was not lost upon Morty, who said, as he went down stairs, "There's something beyond the common on my lord's mind this day. He was bad enough before; but now he looks like a man that has got the very heart within him broken."

He met Dunroe in the hall, and delivered his message, but added,

"I think his lords.h.i.+p has had disagreeable tidin's of some kind to-day, my lord. I never saw him look so ill. To tell you the truth, my lord, I think he has death in his face."

"Well, Morty," replied his lords.h.i.+p, adjusting his collar, "you know we must all die. I cannot guess what unpleasant tidings he may have heard to-day; but I know that I have heard little else from him this many a day. Tell Mr. Norton to see about the bills I gave him, and have them cashed as soon as possible. If not, curse me, I'll shy a decanter at his head after dinner."

He then went rather reluctantly up stairs, and presented himself, in no very amiable temper, to his father.

Having taken a seat, he looked at the old man, and found his eyes fixed upon him with an expression of reproof, and at the same time the most profound affliction.

"Dunroe," said the earl, "you did not call to inquire after me for the last two or three days."

"I did not call, my lord, certainly; but, nevertheless, I inquired. The fact is, I feel disinclined to be lectured at such a rate every time I come to see you. As for Norton, I have already told you, with every respect for your opinion and authority, that you have taken an unfounded prejudice against him, and that I neither can nor will get rid of him, as you call it. You surely would not expect me to act dishonorably, my lord."

"I did not send for you now to speak about him, John. I have a much more serious, and a much more distressing communication to make to you."

The son opened his eyes, and stared at him.

"It may easily be so, my lord; but what is it?"

"Unfortunate young man, it is this--You are cut off from the inheritance of my property and t.i.tle."

"Sickness, my lord, and peevishness, have impaired your intellects, I think. What kind of language is this to hold to me, your son and heir?"

"My son, John, but not my heir."

"Don't you know, my lord, that what you say is impossible. If I am your son, I am, of course, your heir."

"No, John, for the simplest reason in the world. At present you must rest contented with the fact which I announce to you--for fact it is. I have not now strength enough to detail it; but I shall when I feel that I am equal to it. Indeed, I knew it not myself, with perfect certainty, until to-day. Some vague suspicion I had of late, but the proofs that were laid before me, and laid before me in a generous and forbearing spirit, have now satisfied me that you have no claim, as I said, to either t.i.tle or property."

"Why, as I've life, my lord, this is mere dotage. A foul conspiracy has been got up, and you yield to it without a struggle. Do you think, whatever you may do, that I will bear this tamely? I am aware that a conspiracy has been getting up, and I also have had my suspicions."

"It is out of my power, John, to secure you the inheritance."

"This is stark folly, my lord--confounded nonsense--if you will pardon me. Out of your power! Made silly and weak in mind by illness, your opinion is not now worth much upon any subject. It is not your fault, I admit; but, upon my soul, I really have serious doubts whether you are in a sufficiently sane state of mind to manage your own affairs."

"Undutiful young man," replied his father, with bitterness, "if that were a test of insanity, you yourself ought to have been this many a day in a strait waistcoat. I know it is natural that you should feel this blow deeply; but it is neither natural nor dutiful that you should address your parent in such unpardonable language."

"If what that parent says be true, my lord, he has himself, by his past vices, disinherited his son."

"No, sir," replied the old man, whilst a languid flush of indignation was visible on his face, "he has not done so by his vices; but you, sir, have morally disinherited yourself by your vices, by your general profligacy, by your indefensible extravagance, and by your egregious folly, A man placed in the position which you would have occupied, ought to be a light and an example to society, and. not what you have been, a reproach to your family, and a disgrace to your cla.s.s. The virtues of a man of rank should be in proportion to his station; but you have distinguished yourself only by holding up to the world the debasing example of a dishonorable and licentious life. What virtue can you plead to establish a just claim to a position which demands a mind capable of understanding the weighty responsibilities that are annexed to it, and a heart possessed of such enlightened principles as may enable him to discharge them in a spirit that will const.i.tute him, what he ought to be, a high example and a generous benefactor to his kind? Not one: but if selfishness, contempt for all the moral obligations of life, a licentious spirit that mocks at religion and looks upon human virtue as an unreality and a jest--if these were to give you a claim to the possession of rank and property, I know of no one more admirably qualified to enjoy them. Dunroe, I am not now far from the grave; but listen, and pay attention to my voice, for it is a warning voice."

"It was always so," replied his son, with sulky indignation; "it was never anything else; a mere pa.s.sing bell that uttered nothing but advices, lectures, coffins, and cross-bones."

"It uttered only truth then, Dunroe, as you feel now to your cost.

Change your immoral habits. I will not bid you repent; because you would only sneer at the word; but do endeavor to feel regret for the kind of life you have led, and give up your evil propensities; cease to be a heartless spendthrift; remember that you are a man: remember that you have important duties to perform; believe that there are such things as religion, and virtue, and honor in the world; believe that there is a G.o.d a wise Providence, who governs that world upon principles of eternal truth and justice, and to whom you must account, in another life, for your conduct in this."

"Well, really, my lord," replied Dunroe, "as it appears that the lecture is all you have to bestow upon me, I am quite willing that you should disinherit me of that also. I waive every claim to it. But so do I not to my just rights. We shall see what a court of law can do."

"You may try it, and entail disgrace upon yourself and your sister. As for my child, it will break her heart. My G.o.d! my child! my child!"

"Not, certainly, my lord, if we should succeed."

"All hopes of success are out of the question," replied his father.

"No such thing, my lord. Your mind, as I said, is enfeebled by illness, and you yield too easily. Such conduct on your part is really ridiculous. We shall have a tug for it, I am determined."

"Here," said his father, "cast your eye over these papers, and they will enable you to understand, not merely the grounds upon which our opponents proceed, but the utter hopelessness of contesting the matter with them."

Dunroe took the papers, but before looking at them replied, with a great deal of confidence, "you are quite mistaken there, my lord, with every respect. They are not in a position to prove their allegations."

"How so?" said his father.

"For the best reason in the world, my lord. We have had their proofs in our possession and destroyed them."

"I don't understand you."

"The fellow, M'Bride, of whom I think your lords.h.i.+p knows something, had their doc.u.ments in his possession."

"I am aware of that."

"Well, my lord, while in a drunken fit, he either lost them, or some one took them out of his pocket. I certainly would have purchased them from him."

"Did you know how he came by them?" asked his father, with a look of reproof and anger.

"That, my lord, was no consideration of mine. As it was, however, he certainty lost them; but we learned from him that Birney, the attorney, was about to proceed to France, in order to get fresh attested copies; upon which, as he knew the party there in whose hands the registry was kept, Norton and he started a day or two in advance of him, and on arriving there, they found, much to our advantage, that the register was dead. M'Bride, however, who is an adroit fellow, and was well acquainted with his house and premises, contrived to secure the book in which the original record was made--which book he has burned--so that, in point of fact, they have no legal proofs on which to proceed."

"Dishonorable man!" said his father, rising up in a state of the deepest emotion. "You have made me weary of life; you have broken my heart: and so you would stoop to defend yourself, or your lights, by a crime--by a crime so low, fraudulent, and base--that here, in the privacy of my own chamber, and standing face to face with you, I am absolutely ashamed to call you my son. Know, sir, that if it were a dukedom, I should scorn to contest it, or to retain it, at the expense of my honor."

"That's all very fine talk, my lord; but, upon my soul, wherever I can get an advantage, I'll take it. I see little of the honor or virtue you speak of going, and, I do a.s.sure you, I won't be considered at all remarkable for acting up to my own principles. On the contrary, it is by following yours that I should be so."

"I think," said the old man, "that I see the hand of G.o.d in this.

Unfortunate, obstinate, and irreclaimable young man, it remains for me to tell you that the very doc.u.ments, which you say have been lost by the villain M'Bride, with whom, in his villainy, you, the son of an earl, did not hesitate to a.s.sociate yourself, are now in the possession of our opponents. Take those papers to your room," he added, bursting into tears: "take them away, I am unable to prolong this interview, for it has been to me a source of deeper affliction than the loss of the highest t.i.tle or honor that the hand of royalty could bestow."

When Dunroe was about to leave the room, the old man, who had again sat down, said: