“Which you now propose to dispose of by will?”
“With your assistance, sir.”
“You are a man of the world, Mr. Grantley, and acquainted with the general rules by which society is regulated. I cannot suppose you to be ignorant that a person in the peculiar position which you are understood to occupy might find it difficult to establish a claim to this, or any other property.”
“I shall not affect to misapprehend your meaning, sir,” returned the old gentleman, with a manner of grave kindliness; “and I will answer you with as much openness as justice to myself and others allows. I left England twenty years ago under a cloud of disaster and contumely. I chose exile in preference to inquiry, and the results which such an inquiry would produce. My reasons for taking that course I did not disclose then, nor shall I willingly do so now. I do not apprehend that I shall be called upon to alter this purpose; but, should it turn out otherwise, I have the means to meet the emergency, and I shall know how to use them.” Here he laid his right hand upon the leathern pocket-book which he had placed upon the table. “It is far from being my wish, however,” he continued, “to become the occasion of any disturbance or controversy. I rather desire that such small influence as I may still be able to exercise over my fellow beings may be in the direction of making some of them happy.”
“Am I to infer that you contemplate anything in the way of restitution?” the lawyer demanded.
“No.”
“You are quite right, of course, in withholding your confidence,” rejoined the other, with a coldness that was partly assumed to veil his perplexity. “But—is it your intention to present yourself hereafter under your true name?”
“There is only one other person beside yourself, to whom it was necessary I should declare myself—I mean Sir Francis Bendibow; and I took an early opportunity of doing that. To the rest of the world I intend at present to be Mr. Grant. The fulfillment of the bequests of my will may hereafter necessitate the revelation of who I really am; but I trust that may not occur during my lifetime. And, even in the alternative event, I doubt not the revelation could be so managed as not to incommode any one.”
“Well, Mr. Grantley,” said the lawyer, taking up a pen and turning it between his fingers, “your attitude is unexpected and, so far as my information would lead me to judge, unaccountable. But that is none of my affair. I need only to put it to you whether you feel so secure in that attitude as to warrant a belief that the directions of your will have a reasonable chance of getting themselves fulfilled—whether you feel confident that third parties may not interfere to thwart your intentions?”
“On that point I have no misgivings whatever,” replied Mr. Grantley, with a slight smile. “My only apprehension would respect the principal legatee.”