“I have another object, calculated, I think, to prove vastly advantageous to you,” returned Nathan, with a grin. “You know I have your interest at heart,” he grined again; “and I wish to serve you—in my own way.” He rubbed his hands, and grinned again, then he went on. “You and Wilton are the claimants to the whole of old Eglinton’s property. Wilton wants a witness—you want—Wilton dead—hem! All this time, neither of you are deriving any benefit from the property. Now supposing you and Wilton were to unite your claims and possess it jointly; the sum accumulated in arrears is enormous, and the yearly rental largely improved since Eglinton’s death, is at least thirty thousand a-year. Now, an income of fifteen thousand pounds sterling, with half the enormous sum in cash for each, would not be so bad, I conceive! The money would be doing more good, I suspect—administering to the comforts, the pleasures, the enjoyments of yourselves and respective families—than it will in swelling the millions already held in trust by the Court of Chancery. How say you, Mr. Grahame—what is your opinion of my proposition?”
All the time Nathan Gomer was speaking, Mr. Grahame experienced a variety of emotions. He was cold and hot by turns—now his knees quivered, and his teeth chattered—anon he burnt as if scorched by fever. What burst of sunshine was this on a heart almost buried in a dense, life-destroying gloom? What sudden saving hand was this lifting him up out of the engulph-ing quicksands of almost fathomless debt, and placing him upon a rock firm enough to stand the shock of any storm? What haven of safety was this stretching out its unassailable arms to receive him into its secure shelter, even while sinking beneath the hurricane raging around him?
Did he hear aright? Had Nathan Gomer come hither only to taunt him? The gold-faced dwarf, albeit he grinned, seemed to be perfectly earnest and sincere in his proposition, and had, no doubt, good grounds for making it.
It struck Grahame suddenly that Wilton had, perhaps, ascertained that his chance of obtaining any of the property beyond what he had recovered, was hopeless, and, therefore, now sought by a stratagem to secure half. If this were the fact, there was nothing to bar Grahame’s claim to all, and the splendid income, with the immense sum in ready cash, roused his avarice—it dazzled his vision. Not a farthing should Wilton have, if he could obtain all—all. What a grand thing it would be to possess himself of all! He did not observe how keenly Nathan was perusing his features, nor conceive with what skilled eyes he read in their changing expression the thoughts which were passing through his mind. He little thought how bare his base greed lay before the man from whom, of all others, he would have most concealed it.
After a pause purposely made by him to reduce his tone of voice and his manner to an attitude of perfect calm, he said to Nathan—
“Your friend Wilton of course suggested this proposition?”
“He does not even dream of it,” was the reply. “On the contrary, he is most sanguine of shortly discovering the witness who can prove the validity of his mother’s marriage with his father. Certainly his chances of doing so are such as to bar any other claim to the property, until it is proved to the satisfaction of the Court that all his efforts have hopelessly failed. In the meantime, you have heavy liabilities approaching maturity. You best know what resources you possess to meet them, and if they are not unquestionable and beyond the reach of casualties, it seems to me you ought to leap with gladness at the chance of suddenly acquiring the wealth my suggestion would place within your reach.”
Mr. Grahame thought for a moment; his present position was very ugly; still he could not bring himself to think a proposition so extraordinary as this would be made to him unless his chances of obtaining the property had, in some manner unknown to himself, materially improved. Now if he could elicit this, he would not, for an instant, hesitate to decline to accede to the terms, and with this object he commenced to cross-examine Nathan Gomer; but before he had completed a sentence a servant entered with a letter.
Mr. Grahame recognised the superscription as his lawyer’s handwriting, and saying to Gomer hastily—“Pardon me,” he tore it open, and read its contents. They were to inform him that the managing clerk of the firm having returned, it was ascertained that he had not had the deed; it must, therefore, be unfortunately mislaid. Mr. Grahame was assured that prompt steps would be taken to recover it, but if they failed, the usual course to discover any article of importance, missing or stolen, would be adopted without the least loss of time.
Mr. Grahame was aghast at this information. That the deed was lost or stolen was clear. In either case, his position was painfully embarrassing. The proposal of Nathan Gomer was, therefore, a harbour of refuge to be secured instanter to be secured at all; so he turned to him, and said, quickly—