Years back, during the lifetime of the owner of the property, Wilton had lived upon a portion of the estate—a slice of considerable dimensions, and held under a simple document—a deed of gift, though not drawn up by a lawyer. The original owner died suddenly, and, as it was believed, intestate. As he died without issue, and no will could be found, a host of claimants sprang up, and the estate went into Chancery.
Then Wilton was called upon to prove his claim to the estate he held, and to improve which he had expended every sixpence of the fortune he had possessed independent of it. He produced his document. So far as the wording of the instrument went, it had full legal force; but proof was needed that it was in the actual handwriting of the deceased, and that it was in all respects executed by him in favour of Wilton—given freely, fairly, without coercion, and with the full intention that Wilton should enjoy, have, and hold possession of the estate thus presented to him for ever.
It had been witnessed, but the witness was gone away, no one knew where. The handwriting of the document was questioned, and on the trial to prove Wilton’s title to the estate, the weight of evidence for and against its being genuine was divided—if it did preponderate, it was rather against than for him.
The judge held the non-production of the witness to be fatal to the claim, and a verdict was so given. The property was therefore wrested from Wilton; he was turned homeless into the world, with his wife and family, while the estate itself was joined to the other property, and the whole income went into the hands of the receiver appointed by the Court—to be held in trust, disgorged only when a claimant appeared, who could prove his title to inherit it.
In the claim to the property as a whole, Wilton was the nearest of kin, but here again he was debarred for want of a witness, who was believed to be living, but who could not be found.
Grahame’s chain of evidence in support of his claim was unbroken, and his title to the property indisputable if Wilton were out of the way. The only thing which debarred Wilton’s obtaining the estates was a doubt thrown upon the validity of his mother’s marriage. Grahame knew that, and, so far as it went, it was enough to keep him out of possession. But if Wilton signed a paper waiving all claim to the property, which was at his finger tips, without the power to grasp it, Grahame would, as the only other surviving claimant become entitled to it, and would obtain it; for, as we have said, his chain of evidence proving his right to it, next of kin failing, was complete in all its parts.
It may now be understood how immensely important it was to him to obtain Wilton’s signature to a deed which he had had most carefully drawn up, and we have seen the lengths to which he went to obtain it. It may also be understood wherefore Wilton preferred imprisonment, under the strong hope that his much-wanted witness would some day appear, rather than sign a deed which excluded not only himself but his family from the possession of wealth, which was in truth and justice, though not to the satisfaction of the law, actually theirs.
Grahame pondered over the past down to the present despairing moment.
What was now to be done? With the payment of the two bonds given by Wilton while trying his right to possess that which had been given him, he had lost all power by pressure over him: and destitution, perhaps imprisonment, stared him in the face—no, not imprisonment—no, not that.
He opened a drawer, and took out a case, which, with a furtive glance round the chamber, he opened.