The Prodigal Father Part 53

"What Mrs. Harris?"

"Sarah Gamp's pal."

"You are drunk," said Andrew.

Heriot regarded him with portentous solemnity.

"Mr. Harris was the kind gentleman who befriended my grandfather on his voyage to South America. He received afterwards many letters from your papa, Andrew; and very, very thoughtfully handed them to me. They prove, my boy, that you treated your parent outrageously. They prove that you must have been a shocking bad hat yourself. Some of them prove that your kind and forgiving parent is still alive at this moment; others prove that he expired under heart-rending circ.u.mstances six months ago; and I propose to use whichever alternative seems best--that's to say, whichever will flatten you out most effectively. And that's who Harris is."

For some minutes Andrew studied the letter in silence. He felt like a heavy-weight boxer in the grip of a professor of Ju-Jitsu. What use was a lifelong apprentices.h.i.+p to common sense, respectability, and the law of Scotland, when it came to wrestling with a juggler of this kind? he asked himself bitterly. One ought to have led a life of crime! The longer he looked at the preposterous epistle, the more diabolical did it appear. At last he spoke--

"This is an impudent forgery."

"There are some hundreds of specimens of your father's hand to compare it with," said Heriot calmly; "I am perfectly willing to let any expert judge whether it's genuine or not."

The heavy-weight tried another wriggle.

"This is the letter of a lunatic. I have a certificate to prove it. I can call Dr. Downie to prove it."

"You needn't go to so much trouble. You'll find that plot against my grandfather's liberty fully described in some of the letters. The point that will be put to you by the cross-examining Counsel is, if you thought him off his chump, why did you only pretend to put him in an asylum?"

"I did put him," snapped Andrew.

Heriot rose and rang the bell.

"What's that for?" asked Andrew; but he was only answered by a smile.

"Show up the other two gentlemen," said Heriot.

The discreet butler glanced at his master, but he was too dumbfounded to give any indication of his pleasure one way or the other.

A minute later, Frank and Lucas entered. They nodded coolly, but Andrew only stared.

"Now, Lucas, dear boy," said Heriot genially, "tell this old c.o.c.kalorum who you saw off on a steamer for South America."

Lucas smiled grimly at his brother-in-law to be.

"Heriot Walkingshaw," he replied.

"Swear to it?" smiled Heriot.

Lucas nodded, his blue eyes glittering on Andrew all the time; and there followed a pause in the conversation.

"What do you propose to do?" asked Andrew.

"Make you disgorge, old c.o.c.k," said Heriot.

"Disgorge what?"

"Every single penny you inherited!"

Andrew made a last convulsive struggle.

"I'll not do it!"

"In that case, the following interesting facts will immediately be made public: that you lied when you said your father was in an asylum, and lied again when you said he was dead; that he suffered indescribable agonies in consequence of your ill-treatment; that he is either alive at this moment or died a death that will bring tears to the eyes of all Edinburgh; and that, in any case, you helped yourself to his fortune with precisely as much justification as a burglar who opens a safe. The matter will then be placed in the hands of Thompson, Gilray, & Young."

This choice of a vindictive rival firm struck Andrew as the most diabolical artifice of all. His eyes blinked and his cheeks twitched; and when he spoke his voice reminded them painfully of the professional mendicant of the pavement.

"Would you ruin me?"

"Ruin be hanged! Your wife has two thousand pounds a year, and you've got the lion's share of the business. But you've got to sh.e.l.l out every bra.s.s farthing you bagged from your poor dear father, and settle it in equal shares on Frank and Jean."

Frank made a quick movement of grat.i.tude and protest.

"Shut up," said Heriot jovially. "You mind your own business, Frank.

This is my shout."

"My dear Frank--" his brother began solemnly.

"Andrew!" thundered Heriot, "if you make any miserable whining appeal to your brother, I'll tell Lucas to kick you. Are you ready, Lucas?"

"Quite," said the artist.

A few minutes later the present head of Walkingshaw & Gilliflower had appended his signature to the following doc.u.ment (the unaided composition of the late senior partner in the aforesaid firm):

"I, Andrew Walkingshaw, having the fear of this world and the next before my eyes, do hereby promise and swear that upon the morning following the above date of the month and year, at the hour of 10 a.m., I shall formally, legally, and irrevocably settle in equal shares upon my brother and sister, Frank and Jean Walkingshaw, the whole estate, real and personal, of my revered father, except such portion of it inherited and enjoyed by my sisters Margaret Walkingshaw or Ramornie and Gertrude Walkingshaw or Donaldson, and my aunt Mary Walkingshaw. This I do for the following consideration: that through their kindness and charity my despicable, unsportsmanlike, and criminal conduct may never be revealed. I humbly and sorrowfully confess that I had my estimable father aforesaid certified as insane when I knew his brain to be considerably sounder than my own; that I did this in order to diddle him and my younger brother and sister out of their money; that instead of putting him under restraint, I exiled him furth of Great Britain and Ireland, so that he thereby suffered discomforts and torments for whose virulence I take his word; that I announced his death knowing him to be alive; and that I then in a criminal and shameful manner appropriated his estate to my own use. May all wicked and foolish men be laid by the heels as I have been, and may their relatives be as forgiving as mine! This paper I sign cheerfully and penitently."

It was a pale and flabby-cheeked Writer to the Signet who laid down his pen after reading and signing this lucid doc.u.ment. He stalked solemnly to the door, and then with a chastened air addressed them--

"May Heaven forgive you."

Thus in a blaze of appropriate piety the star of Andrew Walkingshaw set.

There is small probability of his ever becoming an Example again. At present it is his arduous task to live down, by the austerity of his demeanor and the judicious expenditure of his wife's income, the suspicions connected with the apparition at his dinner party, and his subsequent act of inexplicable magnanimity in divesting himself of his fortune and handing it to his brother and sister. It is with the greatest regret that the editor of these few simple facts finds himself unable to cap with a suitable reward the career of well-principled respectability so unfortunately interrupted; but his obligations to the illogical truth are peremptory.

"My dear old boys and jolly good sportsmen, and all the rest of it,"

said Heriot jovially, "don't mention it--don't mention it. What can you do to show your dashed grat.i.tude? There's only one thing; one blooming favor I ask of you: send me to a good public school!"

CHAPTER VII

The devious lane was filled with suns.h.i.+ne; the studio being lighted only from the north was filled instead with happiness. The same two sat there; but to-day she was no longer so demurely clad and all the aches and weariness were gone, and he no longer fumed.