Cousin Henry

by Anthony Trollope

"Oh, yes."

"You acknowledge that Mr Brodrick found it in this book which I now hold in my hand?"

"I acknowledge that."

"This is all that I ask you to sign your name to. As for the rest, it is sufficient that you have confessed the truth to your uncle and to me. I will just write a few lines that you shall sign, and then we will go back to Carmarthen and do the best we can to prevent the trial for next Friday." Thereupon Mr Apjohn rang the bell, and asked Mrs Griffith to bring him paper and ink. With these he wrote a letter addressed to himself, which he invited Cousin Henry to sign as soon as he had read it aloud to him and to Mr Brodrick. The letter contained simply the two admissions above stated, and then went on to authorise Mr Apjohn, as the writer's attorney, to withdraw the indictment against the proprietor of the Carmarthen Herald, "in consequence," as the letter said, "of the question as to the possession of Llanfeare having been settled now in an unexpected manner."

When the letter was completed, the two lawyers went away, and Cousin Henry was left to his own meditation. He sat there for a while, so astounded by the transaction of the morning as to be unable to collect his thoughts. All this that had agitated him so profoundly for the last month had been set at rest by the finding of the will. There was no longer any question as to what must be done. Everything had been done. He was again a London clerk, with a small sum of money besides his clerkship, and the security of lowliness into which to fall back! If only they would be silent;—if only it might be thought by his fellow-clerks in London that the will had been found by them without any knowledge on his part,—then he would be satisfied. A terrible catastrophe had fallen upon him, but one which would not be without consolation if with the estate might be made to pass away from him all responsibilities and all accusations as to the estate. That terrible man had almost promised him that a way of retreat should be made easy to him. At any rate, he would not be cross-examined by Mr Cheekey. At any rate, he would not be brought to trial. There was almost a promise, too, that as little should be said as possible. There must, he supposed, be some legal form of abdication on his part, but he was willing to execute that as quickly as possible on the simple condition that he should be allowed to depart without being forced to speak further on the matter to any one in Wales. Not to have to see the tenants, not to have to say even a word of farewell to the servants, not to be carried into Carmarthen,—above all, not to face Mr Cheekey and the Court,—this was all he asked now from a kind Fate.

At about two Mrs Griffith came into the room, ostensibly to take away the breakfast things. She had seen the triumphant face of Mr Apjohn, and knew that some victory had been gained. But when she saw that the breakfast had not been touched, her heart became soft. The way to melt the heart of a Mrs Griffith is to eat nothing. "Laws, Mr Jones, you have not had a mouthful. Shall I do you a broil?" He assented to the broil, and ate it, when it was cooked, with a better appetite than he had enjoyed since his uncle's death. Gradually he came to feel that a great load had been taken from off his shoulders. The will was no longer hidden in the book. Nothing had been done of which he could not repent. There was no prospect of a life before him made horrid by one great sin. He could not be Squire of Llanfeare; nor would he be a felon,—a felon always in his own esteem. Upon the whole, though he hardly admitted as much to himself, the man's condition had been improved by the transactions of the morning.

"You don't quite agree with all that I have done this morning," said Mr Apjohn, as soon as the two lawyers were in the fly together.

"I am lost in admiration at the clearness of your insight."

"Ah! that comes of giving one's undivided thoughts to a matter. I have been turning it over in my mind till I have been able to see it all. It was odd, wasn't it, that I should have foretold to you all that happened, almost to the volume?"

"Quite to the volume!"