As Clayton sat perfectly silent, it seemed to occur to Mr. Jekyl that a few moral reflections of a general nature would be in etiquette on the present occasion. He therefore added, in the tone of voice which he reserved particularly for that style of remark:—
"We have been called upon to pass through most solemn and afflicting dispensations of Divine Providence, lately. Mr. Clayton these things remind us of the shortness of life, and of the necessity of preparation for death!"
Mr. Jekyl paused, and, as Clayton still sat silent, he went on:
"There was no will, I presume?"
"No," said Clayton, "there was not."
"Ah, so I supposed," said Mr. Jekyl, who had now recovered his worldly tone. "In that case, of course the whole property reverts to the heir-at-law, just as I had imagined."
"Perhaps Mr. Jekyl would look at this paper," said Harry, taking his contract from the hand of Mr. Clayton, and passing it to Mr. Jekyl; who took out his spectacles, placed them deliberately on his sharp nose, and read the paper through.
"Were you under the impression," said he to Harry, "that this is a legal document?"
"Certainly," said Harry. "I can bring witnesses to prove Mr. John Gordon's signature, and Miss Nina's also."
"Oh, that's all evident enough," said Mr. Jekyl. "I know Mr. John Gordon's signature. But all the signatures in the world couldn't make it a valid contract. You see, my boy," he said, turning to Harry, "a slave, not being a person in the eye of the law, cannot have a contract made with him. The law, which is based on the old Roman code, holds him, pro nullis, pro mortuis; which means, Harry, that he's held as nothing—as dead, inert substance. That's his position in law."