“Sir, you know nothing of the law. I shall seek better legal advice,” exclaimed General Garnet, bringing down his glass upon the table with a force that shivered it, and rising in an excited manner.
“You may seek other, and find more palatable advice, sir. Our consultation ends here. I wish you good-evening, sir,” said the lawyer, rising and going to the door.
“Stay!” said General Garnet, going after him.
But the attorney bowed deeply and retired.
General Garnet continued to pace up and down the floor, with a strange, excited manner, totally at variance with his usual serene self-possession. Frequently, also, he stopped—poured out and quaffed a glass of wine. At last, pausing, he struck his forehead, emphatically exclaiming:
“I have it, now! a deed! To-morrow morning, the first thing I do will be to have drawn up, sign, seal, and record a deed of conveyance, giving the whole of this estate to Garnet Seabright, and retaining only a life interest in it myself. Yes! a deed! There will be no contesting or setting aside that, I fancy. And whether I die next year, or a hundred years hence, Nettie, if she lives, becomes possessed of all this property. Yes! yes! I must revenge myself upon Hardcastle. I must punish that ungrateful daughter—true scion of the stubborn Chesters. And by all means, by any means—I must—will!—elevate and aggrandize Nettie—my child, my darling, my darling, the only thing on earth that loves me. Yes! elevate and aggrandize her until I force the world to recognize her. Nettie, my heart’s core! whose thought has power to banish even the image of my young bride from my mind!—to banish it, because fair and lovely and loving as she is—her fantastical and selfish passion, flattering as it is—is a more selfish thing than your sweet affection, my darling child. Yet she is beautiful, this fervid Ambrosia! And once this business settled—this deed that secures wealth and rank to my Nettie, executed and recorded, I shall be free to yield up soul and senses to this dream of passion. How my thoughts wander! I am giddy. I am not well. When ever did I talk to myself before? I must stop this. I will consult a physician to-morrow,” said General Garnet, sitting down, and drinking great draughts of wine.
The next day, true to his purpose, he rode to Huttontown, and had the deed of conveyance, giving all the great Mount Calm property to Garnet Seabright, and reserving only a life interest in it himself, drawn up, signed, and witnessed with all legal formulæ. Then he rode with it himself to the county town, and had it recorded. In the course of the day the slight indications of approaching illness that had visited him the night before returned, and now, with more marked emphasis. Sudden vertigo, with failure of sight and confusion of thought, would seize him an instant, pass away—return again, and again pass. He drew up his horse at last before a doctor’s office, entered, sat down, and apologizing for troubling the physician with such a trifling indisposition by saying, jestingly, that he wished to be in perfect health upon his wedding day—he related his symptoms.
“It is nothing, sir,” said the physician, after he had felt his pulse, etc. “It is nothing. Do not be alarmed, I beseech you! Keep a calm mind; it is of vital importance that you keep a calm mind. I would advise you to defer your marriage for a few weeks.”
“Do you think, sir, that I am threatened with——”
“No, sir! Oh, no, there is not the least occasion for alarm; these symptoms must yield to a very little judicious treatment. Abstain from the use of wine and stimulating food, and, above all things, avoid all agitation and excitement; keep from all places and persons that have the least effect upon your nerves. A day or so will set you up again. Stay, I will write you a little prescription. Here, sir, take this—it is simply a cooling draught; follow directions, and all will be right.”