CHAPTER XII.
Sir Godfrey Etherton, eight or ten days after the arrival of the Babet in Plymouth, received a letter from Mr. Joseph Stanmore, solicitor. The Baronet was in his study when the letter arrived; he opened it with some surprise and curiosity, for he did not know the writing, and perused the following lines:—
“London, —— Square,
“January 21st, 1794.
“Sir,—
“I beg to acquaint you with the arrival in London of your niece, Miss Mabel Arden, who is at present residing with a French lady, the widow of Admiral Volney, a fugitive or emigrant from her native country, and who has kindly taken charge of Miss Arden, for a short period. I have also to state that a young gentleman, an officer in the naval service, has placed in my hands a sealed casket, which he received from Miss Arden’s mother, the Duchesse de Coulancourt, with an injunction for it to be opened in his presence and that of Miss Arden’s nearest relative, which I understand you are. Any further particulars I will defer till I have the pleasure of seeing you, which I hope will be as soon as may be convenient.
“I have the honour to be,
“Yours most obediently,
“Joseph Stanmore.”
Sir Godfrey Etherton read this letter twice, and looked very serious, as he muttered half aloud—
“So she is come at last.”
He remained thoughtful some time; then, rising, he proceeded to the drawing-room, where Lady Etherton and two of her youngest daughters were sitting near a blazing fire.
“I have just received intelligence,” commenced the Baronet, “that Miss Arden has arrived in London.”
“Oh, indeed!” returned Lady Etherton, whilst the two girls, both very plain, but very fashionably dressed in the ugly style of the period, looked up from their fancy work.
“I wonder what she is like?” said Miss Jane to her sister Barbara. “Howard said she was such a puny thing, that she would hardly live to reach England.”
“It’s very obvious,” said her mother, “that she has lived, nevertheless. I suppose, Godfrey, you will have to go to London, and bring her here; the weather is very severe for so long a journey.” Even from Southampton to London, sixty years ago, was called a long journey. Oh, steam and rail, what a different world you have made of it! Who can tell, in sixty years more, but that steam and rail will be looked upon as slow coaches are now-a-days?
“Yes,” replied Sir Godfrey, handing the letter to his spouse, “I must set out to-morrow. I shall not require you to accompany me; but I will take Jane, to keep the child in countenance and companionship.”
“I wonder if her mother still exists?” said Lady Etherton.
“Not very likely,” answered the Baronet, “in the state France is, that any titled aristocrat would escape, though by birth an Englishwoman. But it’s strange that Mrs. Arden—or the Duchesse de Coulancourt—should in a manner confide her child and a valuable casket, no doubt, to the care of a boy.”
“And a boy of no family or connection,” remarked Lady Etherton, laying down the lawyer’s letter.
“That is of very little consequence now,” Sir Godfrey replied, and, turning to his daughters, said, “You had better, Jane, make some arrangements for to-morrow; I shall leave early, so that we may reach London in good time the following day.”
The two girls then left the room.
“It has just struck me,” remarked the Baronet, “that as this child is, no doubt, totally uneducated, whether it will not be better to place her in some first-rate establishment for the education of young ladies, than to bring her here. For several reasons I think that would be the best plan, as all our girls are finished off, and to bring a governess again into the house would be unpleasant.”
“You might do so in the spring,” returned Lady Etherton; “but for appearance sake I think she had better come here for a few months. I wonder greatly what is in the casket?”
“Some family jewels, I suppose,” replied the Baronet; “perhaps some papers to prove the child’s birth, &c. But I forgot to mention to you that I saw in the Plymouth paper an account of a spirited action fought by the corvette that brought Miss Arden to England with two French privateers. She took one, a very large schooner, which it seems was brought to Plymouth by this young midshipman, William Thornton. The corvette had scarcely half her armament, and it is stated only forty-five men on board at the time. Now, this midshipman has attracted great attention; his gallantry during the action, and the fact of his having shot the captain of the privateer at a critical moment, and also having brought the prize home safely, notwithstanding some tremendous gales, has caused him to be highly spoken of. Even Admiral B—— has taken notice of him, and I think it extremely probable that he will be made a lieutenant at once, without waiting the expiration of his time.”
“Hem, indeed!” returned Lady Etherton, with a contemptuous look and manner. “This boy seems to be fortune’s favourite—a lucky chance, I suppose. I dare say, if Howard had had the opportunity, he would have done equally well.”
“Of course he would,” returned the Baronet, confidently. “However, Howard shall not want either an opportunity or the means of distinguishing himself when the time comes. It is very clear every one cannot have the chance at the same time, or the service would be overrun with young heroes.”
“Well,” observed the mother, “I am sure, when the time does come, my son will not be behind-hand in spirit or ability,” and so the conversation ended.
Everything being prepared for a journey, Sir Godfrey Etherton and his daughter Jane took their departure in the family chariot with post horses. A journey from the family mansion to London, in those not very remote days, required nevertheless a whole twenty-four hours. On reaching town, our travellers took up their abode at Pierce’s hotel. Now, Jane Etherton was extremely anxious to see this little Mabel Arden; though she considered her a mere child, still she created a kind of excitement in her mind. Jane Etherton was not a handsome girl, and, we regret to add, by no means an amiable one; about twenty years of age, rather tall and slight in person, and vain and selfish in disposition; whilst her manner was extremely arrogant and overbearing to all she considered her inferiors, and to those of her own rank and station in life she was stiff and often supercilious. She had heard her mother say that the unexpected turning up of Miss Arden would materially diminish hers and her sister’s fortunes, as their father would be obliged to refund a very large sum which Miss Arden, as the daughter of Mr. Granby Arden, would by right inherit—Sir Godfrey being quite ignorant that his brother had ever married: therefore the unexpected appearance of this little girl was a most disagreeable event.
“But,” continued the mother, “we may consider it a most fortunate circumstance that Miss Arden, who had a brother, alone lives to claim the inheritance. Her brother was beheaded, she asserts, somewhere in France, during the convulsions that overthrew the French monarchy: otherwise we should have lost not only the estate but the title.”
We cannot vouch for the fact, but it was said that Miss Jane observed that it was a great pity something of the same kind did not happen to Miss Arden; for it was too bad to have to give up property so long considered her own. We presume, therefore, though Miss Jane was a little curious to see Mabel, she was not prepared to regard or receive her with any very kindly or cousinly feeling.
The day following the arrival of Sir Godfrey Etherton in London, he dispatched a note to Mr. Stanmore, the solicitor, appointing an hour on the next day for a meeting. If the time was not convenient, he requested the solicitor to name his hour; requesting also to know where he should find Miss Arden.
A polite answer was returned, stating that the time mentioned by the Baronet was quite convenient, and that Miss Arden was residing for the time with Madame Volney, who had rented a detached cottage at Brompton, No. 7, East End Terrace.
On consideration, Sir Godfrey deferred visiting Madame Volney till after his interview with Mr. Stanmore; so at the appointed hour he proceeded to the solicitor’s residence. The Baronet was shown into a handsome sitting-room, where he beheld Mr. Stanmore and two gentlemen, to whom the Baronet was introduced by the solicitor, first to Lieutenant O’Loughlin, and then to William Thornton, saying—
“This is the young midshipman who has acted so kindly and gallantly towards your niece, Miss Arden.”
The Baronet first bowed politely to Lieutenant O’Loughlin, though wondering why that gentleman should be present; but when face to face with our hero he scarcely bent his head, and the expression of his countenance was haughty, if not contemptuous. A careless smile passed over the midshipman’s very handsome and prepossessing countenance as he perceived the change of expression in Sir Godfrey’s features when introduced to him; but the solicitor, who also marked the change, looked serious.
“I have wished Lieutenant O’Loughlin,” said Mr. Stanmore, addressing Sir Godfrey, “to be present at the opening of this casket,” directing the baronet’s attention to that article lying on the table, “because Lord Hood mentioned in his letter to me that, considering the youth of Mr. Thornton, he had better be accompanied to London by his friend Lieutenant O’Loughlin, who would have, conjointly with Master Thornton, the care of the casket. Acquainted with this proceeding on the part of Lord Hood, I considered it my duty to secure the presence of Mr. O’Loughlin on the occasion of this meeting.”
“I can see no objection,” said Sir Godfrey; “but I think Lord Hood might have dispensed with the services of so young a lad as Master Thornton altogether.”
This was said in an ungracious tone, and O’Loughlin’s cheek flushed as he retorted rather sharply—
“Faith! Sir Godfrey, perhaps his services in saving mother and daughter’s life might equally be dispensed with. As I find——”
The lawyer coughed, fidgeted about, and, seeing a dark frown on Sir Godfrey’s brow, interrupted the worthy lieutenant by saying—
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but business is business; we will at once open the casket, and see to its contents.”
Approaching the table, he took it up, remarking that it was heavy.
The casket was evidently of Indian workmanship, beautifully put together; the sides and edges inlaid with silver, richly engraved with various curious hieroglyphics. A large massive wax seal, bearing the arms of the Duchesse de Coulancourt, covered the key-hole.
“You may perceive, Sir Godfrey,” remarked the solicitor, “that this seal is perfect in all its parts?”
“Undoubtedly,” returned the baronet; “it could not be otherwise in honourable hands.”
“I can assure you, Sir Godfrey,” said Lieutenant O’Loughlin, coldly, “that my gallant young friend perilled his life to preserve that casket, and there was no fear of any one tampering with it whilst under my care.”
Sir Godfrey bowed, observing, “It was fortunate his niece had had such able protectors of both her person and her property.”
Mr. Stanmore, who did not admire either the tone or the look of the baronet, and who could very well judge of the feelings of the two young men, hastened to break the seal. William Thornton, with a look not particularly conciliating at Sir Godfrey, handed the key, which was of rather curious construction. This the solicitor inserted, turned the lock, and then threw up the lid, all present naturally leaning forward, feeling some little curiosity concerning its contents.
Each naturally expected to behold jewels of great value and diamonds; what they first beheld were shavings. These appeared a rather strange packing material for a rich jewel case; but supposing that the Duchess, in her extremity, could find no other, these were carefully removed, when, to their intense mortification, surprise, and indignation, nothing was found but pieces of old worn lead wrapped in pieces of old sacking or canvas. The four spectators remained for several moments gazing at each other, unable to utter a word.
Sir Godfrey Etherton was the first to recover from the surprise all felt. He started to his feet, his sallow cheek flushed and his eyes glistening with the feeling of unaccountable relief, and even of triumph. What cared he for the poor child thus left penniless?
“Ah!” he exclaimed, not trying to conceal the joy he felt, or the triumphant tone of his voice; “so this is the end of our investigation. I thought from the first the whole story was a trumped up one, and that this supposed Duchess of Coulancourt was some artificial adventurer and her daughter.”
“Hold, sir, and take care what you say!” interrupted O’Loughlin, the fierce, angry flash from his dark eyes telling how strong was the struggle within that hindered him from felling the Baronet at his feet, whilst William Thornton could hardly contain himself. “How, Sir Godfrey,” continued the Lieutenant, checking his rage, “can you presume to call the Duchess of Coulancourt an adventuress, because this casket, be it how it may, has been tampered with?”
“Sir,” returned the Baronet, with a dark frown, gazing fiercely at the Lieutenant, and his lip trembling with passion, “I am not answerable to you, or any man, for my words; I am, however, responsible for the honour of my family. I was invited here, and I came expecting to receive proofs of a child of my brother’s—a lawful child, mind you—born in wedlock; when at the same time I felt fully convinced that my brother never was married, even though my Lord Hood appears to say to the contrary, but who cannot say who his wife was, or whether—— Pray hear me to the end, Lieutenant O’Loughlin,” continued the Baronet, waving his hand, seeing the angry impatience of the honest sailor. “Lord Hood is depending on reports; I cannot depend on any such foundation. I am quite willing to listen to reason, or to do my duty, provided I am satisfied with the proofs put before me; but you or any one else may depend I will not consent to rob my children of their rightful inheritance, without some substantial evidence of birth, marriage, &c. This young man,” continued the Baronet, turning with a look of fierce hatred towards William—(neither O’Loughlin nor the solicitor interrupted him, waiting patiently till he had ceased speaking)—“this young man is introduced into the presence of a female, apparently hiding—from whom—who can say? Seeing how young and inexperienced was the person introduced to her, she declares herself to be a Duchess, thinking this high title would impose——”
“You are going too far, Sir Godfrey Etherton,” interrupted William Thornton, losing all patience; his features flushed with excitement as he confronted the Baronet, and their eyes met. “I will not stand here, quiescent, to hear a noble lady and her unfortunate child so grossly maligned and insulted. You have, no doubt, received a false statement of facts from your son, Howard Etherton——”
The Baronet, one of the most excitable and passionate men breathing, lost all control over a temper that had rendered his name one of detestation in the naval service of his country.
“How dare you!” fiercely interrupted Sir Godfrey, stamping on the floor with rage. “You, the son of a common seaman, dare to accuse my son of giving false statements! You forget, boy, to whom you speak!”
The Baronet felt a grasp upon his shoulder that turned him round face to face with the excited O’Loughlin, whilst poor Mr. Stanmore, a quiet and rather timid man, looked and felt extremely miserable and uneasy.
“Ah,” he thought to himself, “these sons of the ocean are terribly fiery; better use the pen than the sword—a much safer weapon!”
“Sir Godfrey Etherton,” said the Lieutenant, speaking calmly, though he trembled with passion; “why I have not felled you to my feet, I cannot say! You are no longer on the quarter-deck of the Dauntless, where your passions found vent upon the victims your anger selected. You here, in your supposed triumph in ousting a poor child out of its parents’ heritage, hurl insult upon the head of an unfortunate lady, and dare to call your brother’s wife an impostor and an adventuress!”
“I will listen no more to this tirade!” furiously exclaimed the Baronet, seizing his hat; and as he reached the door he turned, and shaking his clenched hand at O’Loughlin, he added: “You shall hear from me, Mr. O’Loughlin; and as to this farce of a niece, I disclaim all relationship, and leave to those who have trumped up this deception the right to make the most of their ill got-up project.” So saying, the Baronet slammed the door after him.
The worthy solicitor leaned back in his chair, exclaiming—
“God bless me, I’m glad he’s gone!”
“Faith, so am I,” said O’Loughlin, wiping his brow; “for if he had remained only two minutes more, he should have vanished through the window!”
“This is too bad,” exclaimed William Thornton. “What a heartless, worldly-minded man!”
“Oh, confound him, don’t bother about him; we’ll defeat him yet; and by Jove, if he only gives me a chance, which I am afraid he will not, I’ll make him remember O’Loughlin.”
Mr. Stanmore, who began to recover his presence of mind, and his thoughts reverting to the casket, and its strange contents of shavings, rags, and leads, said—
“Now, Lieutenant O’Loughlin, that that peppery Baronet is gone—he quite bewildered me,” added the solicitor, “let us think about this strange affair. The poor little girl is now actually left without her natural protectors.”
“Natural! do you call them?” replied O’Loughlin, who kept pacing the room to cool himself, whilst William Thornton was examining the casket and the lock. “I call him the most unnatural beast I ever met with; a dead match for a crocodile I once saw on the banks of the Nile, making a breakfast off half-a-dozen of his own progeny.”
“But, O’Loughlin,” said William Thornton, “there is something very mysterious in all this. I am perfectly convinced that the Duchesse de Coulancourt never gave me this casket, knowing it to contain those articles on the table; but, indeed, Mr. Stanmore, we ought to beg your pardon for thus giving way to our hasty tempers.”
“Why, so we ought,” said the Lieutenant; “but, tare and ouns, William, was I to stand silently by, hearing that Baronet calling you the son of a—hem—and I knowing you to be the son of Sir Oscar de Bracy.”
Mr. Stanmore looked up amazed at hearing William Thornton called the son of Sir Oscar de Bracy; he, however, merely said—
“Let us calmly look into this mysterious affair. I am satisfied myself that the original contents of that casket have been removed, and that rubbish substituted.”
O’Loughlin started, saying—
“That is not possible; you saw the seal unbroken.”
“Yes, yes,” said the solicitor; “there are more ways of opening caskets than with the key,” and then he rang the bell, and ordered the servant who answered the summons to tell his housekeeper to send up wine and refreshments. “Now, I beg you, Mr. Thornton,” continued the solicitor, addressing our hero, “I pray you to recall every circumstance that occurred after receiving the casket, for it may be quite possible that the contents might have been extracted previous to your receiving it from her hands.”
“No, Mr. Stanmore,” returned the midshipman, “not previously, of that I am confident, and I will tell you my reason for being so. When introduced into the chamber where I first saw the Duchess of Coulancourt, and whilst conversing with her, I observed that casket on the table; the lid was up, and though I could not, or indeed thought of trying to inspect the contents, still I can safely say there were no shavings whatever in it. I observed her close the lid, lock it, and then affix the seal, after doing which she gave me the key; therefore, the Duchess could not have been deceived. Whilst conducting Miss Arden through the streets, several ruffians made efforts to get it from me, but they failed.”
“Afterwards,” inquired Mr. Stanmore, “what did you do with the casket; that is, when you got back to the boats?”
“I still held possession of it,” said the midshipman, “till we all got on board the dismasted frigate, where we were to remain for some hours, and where the Commissioners had prepared refreshments for us. Poor Mabel was so fatigued and overcome, that I begged her to lie down in a berth. I placed the casket at the foot of the berth, covered it over, and found it in the same place when we had directions to return to our ships.”
“How long, Master Thornton,” questioned Mr. Stanmore, “do you think the casket remained in the berth with the little girl?”
“Oh! I should say several hours, from three or four o’clock in the day till ten at night; we could not venture to cross the outward harbour till dark. I examined the casket when I took it up, and Mabel said she had not been disturbed by any one.”
“Nevertheless,” observed Mr. Stanmore, rising and ringing the bell, and then taking up the casket he began carefully to examine it, “it is possible it may have been tampered with during those hours. I feel satisfied that shavings and lead were not its original contents, and that those contents could not be changed without hands. I am anxious to investigate the mystery as fully as possible. You see, Lieutenant O’Loughlin, it is beautifully put together, and all the edges clasped with silver plates,” and turning it up, he keenly examined the bottom, which had no plate of any kind across it.
“There does not appear the slightest indication of any attempt at opening it,” observed the Lieutenant, carefully scrutinising it.
“I am not so sure of that,” said the solicitor; “but I will have a keener eye to examine into this, and one accustomed to these kinds of things, and who has often been employed to detect dexterous burglaries. Ah! here is John,” and turning to his servant, he desired him to go across the street and request Mr. Robins, the jeweller, to come to him for a few minutes, and to bring one or two of his spring saws with him.
The two young sailors wondered what Mr. Stanmore expected to find, but the worthy solicitor remarked to William Thornton—
“When on board the frigate in Toulon, who did you see there; were there many persons about?”
“No, Mr. Stanmore, there were not; for after the committee men left, there was only the steward, three or four sailors, and about as many convicts or galley slaves, who were at liberty about the ship with only an iron ring round their ankles; but they did not come into the after cabins.”
“Ah! here is Mr. Robins,” observed Mr. Stanmore, as the jeweller entered the room, bowed to the gentlemen present, and at once fixed a remarkably keen pair of grey eyes upon the casket.
“Ah! Mr. Robins,” said the solicitor; “I see your eyes are upon this casket,” laying his hand on it.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Robins, taking it up; “an Indian cabinet or casket, beautifully put together, and yet by no means a particularly safe article for holding valuables; for though exquisitely worked, and the edges all clasped and riveted, there is no security in the bottoms.”
“Ah! so I thought,” said Mr. Stanmore; and then he briefly explained how he suspected the contents of the casket to have been stolen, without breaking the seal over the key-hole.
“Nothing more easy,” remarked the jeweller, “to an expert burglar, with a watch-spring saw—the bottom has been taken out;” and drawing from his pocket a small case, he selected a remarkably fine blade of a knife, and began passing it along the edge or sides till the knife stopped.
“Ah,” he continued, with a satisfied smile, “I see: a watch-spring saw, exceedingly fine, has been used here to cut the small pins holding the bottom to the sides,” and taking one of those instruments he passed it all round, finding only four pins and a powerful cement. He soon freed the bottom, and then all plainly perceived it had been previously held to the sides by twelve steel pins, which had been all sawed, the contents abstracted, and the bottom cleverly replaced, and four very small iron brads used to fasten it, and then cement put along the edges.
“By Jove! that’s it,” said O’Loughlin, “there’s no mistake. This job was done on board that confounded ship whilst Mabel slept.”
“Yes,” replied Mr. Stanmore, excessively chagrined, whilst William Thornton’s face flushed with vexation.
“Ah!” remarked the jeweller, “some of those French convicts are most expert burglars.”
“No doubt,” observed Mr. Stanmore, addressing William Thornton, “you were observed carrying the casket and watched, and whilst the tired little girl slept and you obtained refreshment, the theft was committed.”
“If you look at the lead,” said Mr. Robins, who had examined it, “you will easily see it is the lead used for ships’ scuppers, put in to make the weight up. Less than an hour to an expert hand would complete the job, if provided with a watch-saw and a piece of wax.”
Mr. Robins, having partaken of a glass or two of wine, then retired.
“This is a sad misfortune for the little girl,” said Mr. Stanmore, feelingly. “I could very well perceive Sir Godfrey was exceedingly rejoiced to get rid of his relationship to Miss Arden. No doubt she has a large claim upon the estate, as Mr. Granby Arden’s only child.”
“Sir Godfrey Etherton,” observed William Thornton, with great bitterness, “may yet be made sorely to repent his almost brutal cruelty to his lawful niece. Besides, it is by no means certain that her brother is dead; and, if he still exists, he will strip this proud and heartless man of both title and fortune. In the meantime, Mr. Stanmore, something must be done for Miss Arden, till her mother, the Duchess of Coulancourt, can get to this country.”
“I shall be most happy to assist you in any way, Master Thornton,” observed the solicitor.
“Well, then, Mr. Stanmore,” continued our hero, “as she cannot remain a burden upon Madame Volney, whose means are limited, I should wish her to be placed in one of the best establishments for young ladies in the vicinity of London, and no pains spared in her education. I can place six hundred pounds prize-money in your hands for that purpose, and I am quite satisfied Madame Volney will pay her every attention till her mother arrives.”
“You’re a jewel of a boy, by my conscience you are!” exclaimed Lieutenant O’Loughlin, vehemently, and clasping his favourite by the hand; “and, harkee! Mr. Stanmore, I’ll place the same sum in your hands, and that will make a clear twelve hundred for the little girl, and last her till, please the Fates! we knock double the amount out of Monsieur Crapeau.”
Mr. Stanmore was much moved by the simple, noble conduct of the two sailors; he remarked that he had two daughters at school with a most talented and highly-educated lady, who received only a few pupils, and resided about fifteen miles out of London. By this lady Miss Arden would have every kindness shown her, and have the very best masters.
“Now, I have a couple of hours’ business to transact, but I shall expect you both to dinner; and, after that very necessary daily occupation is over, we shall have full time to settle everything.”
The two friends, somewhat reconciled to their mishap in the loss of the contents of the casket, though desperately indignant at Sir Godfrey’s conduct, then shook the solicitor heartily by the hand, and departed to pay a visit to the Volneys.