Puck — August 1, 1877 — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

by the strangest accident, a young woman came to sit to him as a model who knew René, and told him that which on the face of it was a flat contradiction to the character Fox had given him of his cousin. He was told that she was beautiful and gracious; but he would not accept for absolute truth all that his informant argued from these facts. ‘It ‘ashion for ill-doers to go about like ins, letting every one into the s their villainy,” thought he. ‘The girl may be simply unscrupulous; indeed, what this’ her partisan tells me suggests want of principle; and the very worst of women have been beau- tiful, and possessed of minor virtues endearing them to those not immediately in their way.” ‘These very thoughts were in his mind one | morning as he was preparing for the day’s work, | when Mr. Fox’s card was put in his hand. He did not hesitate to give him an interview, and felt something more than mere curiosity as to what Fox had to say. | Mr, Fox usually dressed in a complete suit of black; a deep hat-band and large kid gloves signified his sorrow for the loss sustained by egory's death, &c. And that he might not be deemed to wear his heart entirely on his hat | and hands, he made his smile as melancholy as his pleasure in greeting Hugh permitted. | “Mr. Gray, the solicitor, has told you of | our loss, Mr. Biron?” said he, casting his beady | eyes about the room, as he took the seat offered | him. “No; but I saw the notice of my grand- | father’s death in the papers,” Hugh answered; | and catching Fox's glance of scrutiny, he be- thought him of covering a certain study of a | female head that stood upon the easel, and | with as little concern as he coukl assume he lifted another canvass and “Something he doesn’t wish me to see why? A woman's head, as well as I could: see without my glasses. He wouldn't put that other picture over it, and then sit with his back to it, for any other reason than to hide the lower one. “Why does not he wish me to see it?” ‘These notes and queries ran through Mr. Fox's head, and whilst taking off his glove he scemed to be considering how to open the sub- ject of his visit. “So you were not officially informed of dear | Mr, Biron’s decease. Hem! Doesn't that seem to you rather odd, considering that as his grandson you had a right to suppose yourself interested in his will?” “1 have heard nothing from my cousin or her solicitor, probably because they did not know where to find me.” | “M, de Gaillefontaine is aware of your ad- dress. But possibly your cousin Miss René Biron is not anxious you should know of any alteration in the family affairs, Cautious peo- ple don’t wake watch-dogs.” “You are mysterious, as usual, Mr. Fox.” “Prudent, Mr. Hugh; prident—no more. We are quite alone, 1 think 2” “Yes. If you have anything to say you can speak without fear of interruption or of being overheard.” “Then I may speak in confidence ?” “Yes, “tis very good of you to grant it to me, I am sure; and I shall tell all that is in my mind without hesitation, knowing how thoroughly as a boy you were to be relied on for honor, Have you been to Riverford lately, sir?” “No.” “Then IT may tell you how things stand there, I live in Kingsland; but I make it my | business to go to Riverford occasionally, watch- ing your interests, as it were.” “My interests!) Have I any?” “Undoubtedly.” Mr. Fox noted with grati- fied pride the palpable influence his words had upon his listener; and Hugh was conscious | laid over i | seem to like me—will tell me all about every- that his face betrayed the excitement he felt, and yet would have concealed. One may coldly enough decline to play a game; but, being engaged, it is impossible to avoid excitement when it comes to a division of the pool. “Twish you would explain as clearly and briefly as possibly in what I am affected; for I suppose that is the object of your visit.” “Tris, Mr. Hugh. Your interest has been mine since first I had the education of your mind. I was saying that I frequently go to Riv- erford as a matter of duty. One can do so with safety now, for the Frenchman is not there; at other times I feel that I am risking my life in going near the place. M. de Gaillefontaine, sir, is one who makes means subservient to his end. Ah, dear, dear, it is grievous to look upon the scene of past happiness, remembering how it was in yqur dear grandfather's time, and conjecturing what it may be when the builders remove their scaffoldings. ‘The grand old pile is being so altered that the fine massive brick | walls will hardly be recognized. ‘Think of that square solid old English building, so character- istic of the time in which it was raised, being so disfigured as to admit of campanile towers being added. ‘The builders told me they are to be used as smoking-rooms. ‘The mahogany furniture, with its costly horsehair covering, the four-post bed-steads, that made one drowsy to look at them, with their sombre hangings— all, all are removed; and the decorator tells me | that the interior of the house is to be orna- mented in a variety of styles, from that of Louis Quatorze to the modern importations | from Japan. ‘There’s a decorative gardener | with an army of workmen engaged upon the grounds; and I learnt from the foreman that the house will be surrounded by terraces in the Italian style, and. piazzas, and 1 don’t know what else. A bijou theatre is being erected, as T learnt from the architect's clerk.” “You seem to have a good many acquaint- ances there.” | “Yes. I don’t know how it is, but people thing. But, indeed, the people in the village, and the aristocracy round about, know as much as Ido. Every one is in arms.” “What is the grievance ?”” “The grievance ?—that the place is being ruined; that the name of Biron, so long rever- enced, is to be disgraced. ‘They sce that these foreigners are impostors; no one believes in them. The gentry will not acknowledge them. It is more than possible that they have gone to ftaly to check the rising indignation. “What has she to fear from popular indigna tion? ‘The property is he Tas “Then there’s an end of it.” “Not at all, sir.”” Hugh fidgeted on his seat. “ What do you mean ?” he asked. “The property is hers now, but if every secret was revealed it might cease to be hers; and to escape investigation it is that they seck to check popular indignation by leaving Eng- land for a time. 1 told you in our last inter- view that this De Gaillefontaine and René were father and daughter—a secret I learned by discovering Madame de Gaillefontaine. Now, by pointing out to this ill-used woman her wrongs, and by actually bribing her to do her duty, she exposed to Mr. Gregory Biron the fraud practiced upon him by De Gaillefon- taine and his daughter. With such a fact be- fore him, do you think he would leave his pro- perty to the woman who has now possession of it? Now, sir, before I speak further I must re- ceive your promise of secrecy.” Hugh hesitated even now to make an agree- 13 least, doubted. As he did not reply, Fox con- tinued: “T wish you to do nothing contrary to your high principles, Mr. Biron; but when i tell you that I am paid by these people to suppress my knowledge of their turpitude, you will see that for my own sake.I must have from you a promise not to use my communication in a manner that would be to my disadvantage.” “Whatever you say here shall go no farther. I think I may promise that without any injus- tice to myself or others.” “That is all I want you to promise,” said Fox, catching at the concession eagerly. “Now look at this.” He carefully took from his waist- coat the folded portion of the will, and open- ing it rose, and held it before Hugh's eyes. “See, sir; it is dated a month later than the instrument by which Gaillefontaine and his ac- complice obtained possession of your grand- father's estate.” Hugh read what was written, which was suffi- cient to show that Gregory Biron had willed | his entire property to him, and then said: “ But here is only one part of a will, and in your handwriting.” “Tt was written by me at your grandfather's dictation, and was signed by him, and wit- nessed by me and another. ‘The signed por- tion of this will De Gaillefontaine holds. Do you observe that this deed has been cut through with a knife? ‘There was a struggle for the possession of it. De Gaillefontaine held one half, I the other. He cut at my hand witha knife; and as I drew back the blade missed my hand, but went clean through the paper, which we held between us. And now can you have any reasonable objection to seek to recover from such a man as that what is yours by right?” Hugh's scruples diminished as his excitement grew. “If your statement be true, I should certainly feel justified in—in taking the advise of a solic- itor.” “ Are you prepared to put down the sum of money a lawyer would demand before entering into a case supported only by the feeble evi- dence you, unaided by me, could procure? I am afraid you are not. If you had the other half of this will, and such light as Madame de Gaillefontaine could throw on the matter, you might take your case into a court of Equity, perhaps; but without these you can do nothing. Now I, only, know where Madame de Gaille- fontaine is to be found, and I, only, know where the other portion of the will is.” “Tf efontaine had it from you he is not likely to have it now. Naturally he would burn it, to destroy the only reliable evidence of its existence.” “You do not know M. de: Gaillefontaine, and forget that the property is nominally René Biron’s. He can profit by it only so long as the amicable relationship exists between them. He is too far-sighted to think that their present friendship will endure. She might chance to marry one whom he disliked; she might restrict his use of her money within unpleasant limits; in a word, she might be her own mistress, and set him aside entirely, were he foolish enough to burn that half-will, With it he can retain the dominant position he has taken in that household. If she rebels, he can bring his proof to you, and—' “And do what you are doing now.” Exactly. Hugh rose and walked up and down his room, finding it impossible to calmly contem- plate the game before him. Mr, Fox shared his excitement, and rose also to his feet as he said: “It is not only an income of ten or twelve thousand a year yoa have to gain; it is not ment with a man whose honesty he, to say the even the reflection that with competence you comicbooks.com