The Mynns' Mystery, Page 6

  CHAPTER SIX.

  HOW THE MONEY WAS LEFT.

  "A singularly quiet funeral, Mr Hampton," said Doctor Lawrence as herode back in the same carriage with the solicitor.

  "The wish of the deceased, sir. He had a great dislike to wastingmoney."

  "Bit miserly, Mr Hampton."

  "No, sir, no. On the whole a generous man, but if he spent money, as heused to say to me. He liked to have something substantial in return."

  "Well, I must say for him, that he was always prompt in his payments."

  "Always," said the lawyer.

  "But with his wealth it seems strange that we have not got a host ofneedy relatives. We can talk about it, Hampton, not being relatives.Wish I was. A slice of the poor old boy's cake would have been a nicehelp to a family man like me."

  "Humph, yes, I suppose so. Money's nice. Very sudden at last, doctor."

  "Ye-es, and no," said the doctor. "When a man gets to eighty-five youmay say his life hangs by a cobweb. Any little excitement may bring itto an end."

  "Humph! Hah! And I've a shrewd suspicion that he had an angryinterview with Mr Harrington--the nephew."

  "And heir?" said the doctor.

  "My dear Lawrence," said the old lawyer, smiling, "never try to pump oneof our profession. In a very short time I shall be reading the will, socurb your impatience."

  "Of course, my dear sir, of course; only a little natural curiosity.Between ourselves I think it will be a pity if he marries our charmingyoung friend, Gertrude."

  "Thousand pities," said the old lawyer drily. "Sooner marry hermyself--if I could."

  The carriage drew up at the outer gates as he spoke, and the ugly oldbrick house, known as "The Mynns," seemed a little more cheerful nowthat the blinds, which had been down for days, were raised and the sunallowed to light up the gloomy rooms, in one of which--the dining-room--the little party assembled after a while to hear the reading of thewill; Saul's enemy, the dog, taking up his position or the hearthrug.

  The party consisted of Gertrude, who came in attended by Bruno; MrsHampton, a stiff, stern old lady, who looked like a black dress with aface on the top; Saul Harrington, and the servants. Mr Hampton wasthere officially, and the doctor was retiring to see a patient in town,when the lawyer took him by the coat.

  "Don't go, Lawrence," he said; "you forget you are an executor."

  "Oh, yes, of course, so I did."

  "It's a long time since the will was executed, and I have somerecollection of a snuff-box left to you."

  "Indeed," said the doctor, with his face lighting up as he rubbed hishands; "then he has left me the old engine turned silver snuff-box. Itook a fancy to it years ago, and he laughed and said he would leave itto me in his will. Now that's very pleasant of him to remember me. EhMiss Gertrude? Yes, I'm very glad."

  The doctor drew out a holly-root box, took snuff loudly, and looking upat the portrait of the old man, gave it a friendly nod, while the eyesseemed to be gazing into his is they did into those of all present.

  Then the last will and testament was read, and Saul Harrington listenedimpatiently to the minor bequests to the under-servants, no one beingforgotten; and to the comfortable legacy left to Mrs Denton with thewish that she would always remain housekeeper at The Mynns, so long asher health permitted. Then came a fairly large amount for themaintenance of "my old and faithful servant Bruno," with the additionthat if "my heir" did not feel inclined keep the dog, Mrs Denton was tohave him in charge and care for him till his death.

  "Lucky dog!" said the doctor to himself; and he glanced at Gertrude, whowas holding Mrs Hampton's hand while crying gently, and, as if not tointrude on her sorrow, he again looked up at the portrait, gave it afriendly nod, and then chirruped softly to the dog, which came and laidits head upon his knee, after turning its eyes apologetically toGertrude.

  Then the doctor's attention was excited by the next clause in the willwhich bequeathed "to my old friend and adviser, Phineas Hampton, fivethousand pounds clear of legacy duty."

  "Another lucky dog," muttered the doctor, who then drew in his breathwith a hiss as he heard the lawyer's words:

  "To my very old friend, Edward Lawrence, MD, my old silver snuff-boxwhich he once admired."

  "Hah! I'm very glad," said the doctor, meeting Gertrude's eyes now, asthe lawyer paused to look up and repeat from the will the next words:

  "And ten thousand pounds free of legacy duty."

  "No!" ejaculated the doctor, half rising. Then sitting down again heexclaimed, "Well!" took out his pocket-handkerchief, blew his noseloudly, and then, without disguise, sat quietly wiping away the tears.

  "To my nephew, Saul Harrington, one hundred pounds a year, raised ashereinafter specified by a Government annuity."

  Saul frowned and looked down at the carpet, though it was all he haddared to expect, and he listened eagerly to the next clause which leftan annuity of one hundred per annum to the testator's dear adoptedchild, Gertrude Bellwood, with the hope that she would fulfil hiswishes. In conclusion, as Saul was trying to recover from the shock ofknowing that Gertrude had spoken the truth, came the clauses dealingwith the remainder of the old man's wealth, which was leftunconditionally with certain sums and their interest, sums remitted fromthe United States, "to my grandson, George Harrington, in the hope thathe will dutifully fulfil my wishes expressed to him in the last letter Isent to America."

  The other parts of the will, with its appointment of "my old friends,Doctor Lawrence and Phineas Hampton, to be my sole executors," seemed toconsist of the ringing of bells in Saul Harrington's ears as he stillsat gazing down at the carpet when all was over.

  "My congratulations, Lawrence," said the old lawyer, smiling.

  "My dear Hampton, I don't know how to be sufficiently grateful. And, mydear Miss Gertrude, I cannot take this. Ten thousand pounds, and youonly left with a hundred a year. Look here, Hampton. Now, no nonsense.I shall only take some of this money--half. The other I insist uponmaking over to Miss Gertrude here as her dowry."

  "Can't be done. Shan't be done," said the old lawyer gruffly."Lawrence, we've known each other twenty years."

  "Yes, we have."

  "Then don't be a fool."

  "And not at his side when he died," said the doctor, nodding his head."My dear Miss Gertrude, I feel as if I am robbing you."

  "You don't know how glad I am, Doctor Lawrence," cried Gertrude, layingher hands in his. "Dear uncle always liked you, and I felt sure hewould leave you something handsome in his will."

  "Hah!"

  It was a long, low expiration of the breath from Saul Harrington, whowas too deep in thought to hear what was going on, as, with hands downin his pockets, he gazed down fixedly at the carpet.

  "And if George Harrington dies, I succeed to everything. Yes," he saidto himself, "I should be master here. Get out! Beast!"

  He said these last words aloud, for the dog was sniffing at his legs,and all the time it seemed as if the portrait of old James Harringtonwas the old man himself, gazing down sternly from the wall at hisplotting nephew.

  "Yes, if he dies--if he dies--I shall be master here."