The Lost Heir

by G. A. Henty

"What do you say now, Mr. Pettigrew? I was right, after all. Bring your friend up, Roberts, and let us hear his story ourselves."

Sergeant Nichol was fetched, and repeated the story that he had told to Roberts.

"Thank you very much, sergeant," the barrister said. "Please remain here while we talk it over. What do you think of this, Mr. Pettigrew?"

"It would seem to explain the whole matter that has puzzled us so. I did not tell you, because it was not in my opinion at all necessary to the case, that Miss Covington has always maintained that the man was not Simcoe, and so positive was she that her friend, Miss Purcell, went down to Stowmarket to make inquiries. It was certainly believed by his friends there that he was Simcoe, and this to my mind was quite conclusive. But I am bound to say that it did not satisfy Miss Covington."

"May I ask, Miss Covington, why you took up that opinion in the first place?"

"Because I was convinced that he was not the sort of man who would have risked his life for another. After Miss Purcell came back from Stowmarket we found out that just before he called on my uncle he advertised for relatives of the late John Simcoe, and that the advertisement appeared not in the Suffolk papers only, but in the London and provincial papers all over the country; and it was evident, if this man was John Simcoe, he would not advertise all over England, instead of going down to Stowmarket, where his family lived, and where he himself had lived for years. He received a reply from an old lady, an aunt of John Simcoe's, living there, went down and saluted her as his aunt, at once offered to settle a pension of fifty pounds a year on her, and after remaining for three days in her house, no doubt listening to her gossip about all John Simcoe's friends, went and introduced himself to them. There was probably some resemblance in height and figure, and an absence of twenty years would have effected a change in his face, so that, when it was found that his aunt unhesitatingly accepted him, the people there had no doubt whatever that it was their old acquaintance. Therefore, this in no way shook my belief that he was not the man.

"It turns out now, you see, that there was another man at Benares at the time who was remarkably like him, and that this man was a scoundrel and a thief. When he deserted no doubt he would take another name, and having doubtless heard that John Simcoe was dead, and remembering the remarks made as to his likeness to him, he was as likely to take that name as any other, though probably not with any idea of making any special use of it. When in England he may have heard General Mathieson's name mentioned, and remembering that Simcoe had saved the life of the General, may have thought that the name and the likeness might enable him to personate the man. He first set about establishing his identity by going down to Stowmarket, and after that it was easy. I have thought it all over so many times that although it never struck me that there might have been at Benares some man bearing a striking resemblance to John Simcoe, all the rest is exactly as I had figured it out to my mind. Now I will leave you, gentlemen, to decide what use you will make of the discovery, while I go and tell my friends of it."

The seats allotted to the general public were empty, as a case of this sort offered but slight attraction even to the loungers in the hall, but a large number of barristers were present. It had been whispered about that there were likely to be some unexpected developments in the case. The counsel engaged on both sides were the leaders of the profession, who could hardly have been expected to be retained in a mere case of a formal application for an order for trustees to act upon a will.

"The facts of the case, my lord," the counsel who led for John Simcoe commenced, "are simple, and we are at a loss to understand how the trustees of the late General Mathieson can offer any opposition to our obtaining the order asked for. Nothing can be more straightforward than the facts. The late General Mathieson, early in March, 1852, made a will, which was duly signed and witnessed, bequeathing, among other legacies, the amount of ten thousand pounds to Mr. John Simcoe, as a mark of his gratitude for his having saved him from a tiger some twenty years before in India. The act was one of heroic bravery, and Mr. Simcoe nearly lost his own life in saving that of the General."

He then related with dramatic power the incidents of the struggle.