‘I would rather not indeed!’ repeated Hindes. ‘Walter will have plenty. The idea of his being your heir is painful to me. Surely there are members amongst your own or your wife’s family who would be thankful to be remembered by you, and need your kindness more than my children do.’
Mr Crampton looked puzzled and a little vexed. He had wished to show his appreciation of the Hindes’s affection for his dead daughter, and his partner’s determined refusal of his offer wounded him. It is not pleasant to have an intended kindness thrown back in one’s face. But all he said was,—
‘You have disappointed me!’
‘I am sorry,’ said Hindes, spasmodically, ‘but it took me by surprise. It is more than I deserve at your hands—I feel as if I had no right to accept your bounty. People might think it strange—they might begin to question—’
‘What could they question? What right would they have to think it strange?’ demanded Mr Crampton, querulously. ‘Have I not a right to dispose of my money in my own way? Come, Hindes, if it is not to be you, it must be your son, so I give you fair warning, and you can divide your own money amongst your children as you choose. But little Walter will be my heir—will take the place of my poor murdered Jenny, whether you like it or no. I will give Throgmorton the necessary directions to-morrow.’
‘My God, my God!’ groaned Hindes, below his breath.
‘My poor friend, I know you are feeling this trouble almost as much as myself,’ continued Mr Crampton, ‘that is what has endeared you so to me since it occurred. I wonder what that fellow Walcheren, who has been the cause of it all, is thinking of at the present moment. If he has a conscience, by Jove! I don’t envy him the possession of it. Say what you will, Hindes, I shall always look upon him as her murderer. If he didn’t push her over the cliff, which I am half inclined sometimes to believe, his carelessness was the real cause of it. Why did he leave her alone, such a wild, thoughtless, heedless creature as she was—plucky to a fault, and ready to dare anything. Why wasn’t he by her side, either to defend her against the villain who assaulted her, or to save her from her own wilfulness?’
‘Oh! sir, pray do not discuss the matter any more, at least to-night,’ said Hindes, in a voice of abject entreaty. ‘Suppose you found out the truth, how could it alter matters now? Try to think that no one was to blame—that it was the will of Heaven—and that—’
‘No! no! Hindes, I cannot think that!’ replied the old man. ‘Her death may always be shrouded in mystery, but God never designed so young and beautiful a creature to die so foully. There is some villainy at the bottom of it, and I have not done with it yet, for, if ever I can discover the real author of the mischief, I will kill him with my own hand. I will, if he proves to be a prince of the blood royal.’
Henry Hindes did not answer for a few minutes, and then he said in a low voice,—