What the “old boy” did was to take a few silent turns about the room with his hands behind his back, his eyes bent on the carpet, and his head sunk between his shoulders. It was his invariable practice when mentally puzzled or perturbed.
“Madam,” he said at length, coming to a halt and planting himself on the hearthrug with his back towards the grate, “nothing could have been more straightforward, or perspicacious than the narrative with which you have just favoured me, and I have no hesitation in saying that to me it seems to bear the stamp of absolute truth. Singularly enough, it happens that I am in a position to enlighten you and set your mind at rest for ever as to the fate of your husband. Poor Alec was killed by the explosion of a steamboat at a date which, I doubt not, will prove on investigation to have been within a few months of the parting between you and him. No wonder, my dear lady, that you looked in vain for any more letters from him.”
“Oh, Sir Gilbert,” ejaculated Giovanna, “what an awful fate was his! My poor John! My poor husband!”
She covered her face with her hands and bent her head over the end of the couch on which she was seated. Sir Gilbert turned his back and took up first one ornament off the mantel-piece and then another. The Captain tried to look sympathetic, but failed signally. No long time passed before Giovanna sat up and quietly wiped her eyes. Sir Gilbert had felt sure that she was not the kind of woman to make a scene, or go into hysterics, and he secretly commended her good sense. He now turned and cleared his voice. During the last minute or two he had made up his mind to a certain course.
“My dear madam,” he began, “I trust you will do me the favour of bringing your son to the Chase to-morrow forenoon and introducing him to me.” He was careful not to say “my grandson.”
Giovanna’s heart went up with a bound. “I will do so with the greatest pleasure, Sir Gilbert,” she replied in her usual composed tones, but her cheeks flushed a little and a sudden light leapt to her eyes.
“There remains one point, however,” resumed Sir Gilbert, “about which it may be as well to say a few words, so that, in time to come, no misapprehension in the matter may exist on the part of anyone concerned.” Again he cleared his voice. “When my son left England it was by my request. He was deeply involved in debt—not for the first or second time—and he applied to me, as he had done before, to extricate him from his difficulties. This I agreed to do on condition that he would go abroad and stay there till he should have my permission to return. He agreed to the condition and went. At the end of two years he wrote me to the effect that he was desirous of emigrating and pushing his fortunes in the United States, and that if I would pay over to him the sum of six thousand pounds he would sanction the cutting off of the family entail. It was an offer which, after consideration, I decided to accept. I had three other sons then living, and from what I knew of Alec it seemed clear to me that after my death he would simply make ducks and drakes of the property. Accordingly, I went out to Catanzaro, taking my lawyer with me. The six thousand pounds was paid over to my son, and in return he signed certain documents, by the provisions of which he cut himself off from all succession to the family estates. Now, I have only spoken of this fact at so much length because I wish it to be clearly understood that no right of succession to the Clare estates any longer exists, and that it is open to me to will every acre of land and every shilling of which I may die possessed, to whomsoever I may choose to constitute my heirs.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE FALSE HEIR
Sir Gilbert Clare’s deliberate announcement, evidently not made without a purpose, that the family estates were no longer entailed, was one which carried dismay to the heart of Captain Verinder. His face fell on the instant, and for a little while the ruddy colour faded out of his cheeks. Although aware that the baronet’s eyes were glancing keenly from him to Giovanna, and then back, he could not for the life of him help showing that the blow had struck home.
Sir Gilbert smiled grimly to himself.