It was during the outrageous rioting of the prodigal son that Harry Vivian returned home from Harleydale. His efforts to restrain the ruffian from his acts of violence ended in a tremendous struggle between the two, during which the younger Harper swore with fearful oaths to murder his antagonist; but Harry’s strength prevailed, and he succeeded in forcing him to the ground; and there, with Mr. Harper’s help, binding him so firmly, that he could do no further mischief. They then conveyed him to a bed, upon which he was laid to sleep off his drunkenness.
But he continued shouting, howling and blaspheming for a greater portion of the night, until, exhausted by his own ravings and horrible threats, he fell into a deep sleep.
The horrors of that night slew Mr Harper.
As soon as his son Robert, upon returning to a state of consciousness from his drunken sleep, was informed of his father’s death, he insisted upon being relieved from his gyves; and, only partially restored to sobriety, he demanded why he had been thus secured. When it was explained to him by a workman of his father’s, a powerful fellow, who had been placed to watch him, and who related what had taken place in strong and not flattering language, his brow fell; he said not a word, but seemed to feel ashamed of his conduct of the previous night.
He asked to be released, and promised not to be guilty of like conduct, especially as his father at that moment lay dead in the house.
When he descended to his father’s bed-room, and had assured himself the old man was no more, he ascertained from his prostrate, heart-broken, weeping mother, the name of his father’s solicitor and his address, on pretence of making the necessary arrangements consequent upon the unhappy event which had happened.
At an interview with this solicitor, he elicited that, so far as he knew, Mr. Harper had made no will; at least his professional services had not been called in to execute one. In fact, the latter said, he had often urged upon his client the importance and the necessity of making a proper disposition of his worldly affairs, but those urgings had never been attended, to the extent of his knowledge, with the proper success.
Robert Harper thanked him, told him he should send him notice to be present at the funeral, and made his way to the manufactory, where, as he expected, he found Vivian.
In a few brief, bitter words, he informed Hal of the death of his uncle—his generous patron, his unfailing friend. Mr. Harper had been seized with apoplexy, and had expired after Hal had left Highbury at dawn that morning.
Robert gazed with an insolent air of triumph upon the shocked white features of Hal, who stood transfixed like a statue, and he said to him—