When this bachelor inherited the estates he naturally thought of the child who was then about two years of age, and had her brought from the convent to Broxley Towers. She would be the next heir, and she would be a comfort to him, he believed, as she grew up. And this child was the only one who would stand between the vast wealth of the Broxleys and John Crawford Broxley, a cousin of the bachelor, when that lord of the manor should die. As the owner of Broxley Towers was said to be suffering from some incurable ailment to which the doctors never put a name, the chance of his attaining to anything like old age was a very remote one. They say, however, that watched pots take long to boil; and just because John Crawford wished this man dead, and watched for his demise, he lived.
As to the child, she disappeared most mysteriously one afternoon, and on this disappearance hinges the dénouement of this story.
There was some one else watching until the bachelor should die, and she had waited and watched until at last, about one month after Frank Antony Blake had left the country, his demise was announced, and John Crawford Broxley had proceeded at once to assert his rights to the Broxley estate.
But to the astonishment of every one, suddenly an eminent counsel came forward intent upon proving that John had no more right to the Broxley Towers than he himself had. For till now no one dreamt of anything like opposition to John's claim.
Thus the nine days' wonder came upon the boards.
John Crawford sat in court that morning; no more confident nor self-satisfied individual was present. He was beaming and effulgent.
A man of about six-and-thirty, he was good-looking, well-groomed, and well set-up. He leant back in his seat and complacently watched the proceedings. He believed that these would utterly collapse after a witness or two had been examined.
But the other side had employed probably the most eminent counsel in this country, and the judge himself looked the quintessence of earnest justice. The counsel for the other claimant, John's opponent, was very calm and quiet. He began, indeed, by stating that there was no nearer heir to the estates than John Crawford Broxley, and if reports as to his character were to be credited, he was a vir probus et virtutis, or had been for many years. Unfortunately for him, however, there were certain antecedents that he, counsel, would have to mention for the consideration of the judge. But, nevertheless, the fact remained that John was the nearest heir to Broxley Towers——
The great lawyer paused a few seconds, and many in the court thought that he was about to surrender his case or throw up his brief—'Provided,' he continued 'there was no nearer heir.' He would now have the pleasure of bringing forward as the claimant a young lady whom he could prove was the daughter of the deceased's brother.
There was a buzz of excitement and admiration in the court when—led by Crona the witch, who leant on a long staff and had her raven Joe on her shoulder—Lotty herself, looking radiantly pretty, entered and took her seat shyly beside her fairy godmother.