He left all he possessed to his only son for life, and on his death without issue the property was to pass to Gurth. The old miser may have had some idea that by leaving it this way Gurth would try to prevent Ralph squandering his fortune—that it would make him a sort of custodian of the hoarded wealth he loved.
Gurth, who had counted upon a thumping legacy, was bitterly disappointed, and conceived a violent dislike to his cousin. He was, however, too shrewd to show it openly.
He looked the situation in the face, and convinced himself that Ralph’s was a short life. Ralph inherited the family failing, and drink and dissipation had already wrecked a vigorous constitution.
‘Ralph Egerton will kill himself in a year, at the rate he’s going on,’ said people; and, seeing that the young man was already on the verge of delirium tremens, their prophecy was reasonable.
Gurth was satisfied on the whole when he thought matters out. He was the constant companion of his cousin, and kept him well surrounded with the means of shortening his career.
He introduced him to the gambling den of Josh Heckett, and shared in the plunder. He was only drawing on account—that was his idea. If Ralph Egerton was to lose money, his money, what could be fairer than that he should lose it to him?
It was after his introduction to the Soho establishment that a great change came over Ralph. Gurth detected it, sought the cause, and found it.
Gertie Heckett, Josh’s pretty daughter, was at the bottom of it.
Gurth fancied that it was a vulgar amour, and nothing more. He let it run its course, seeing in it only one more link in the chain that bound Ralph Egerton to evil company.
But one day Ralph, who had been sober for a month, broke out badly, and grew quarrelsome.