Dr. Holly on his arrival found madam in strong convulsions, requiring both her sister and niece to hold her, while Mr. Wendell and John, assisted by Vi’let, were endeavoring to revive Mr. Fayerweather, who was still on the floor. On examining him attentively, the Doctor shook his head hopelessly, but made an immediate attempt to take blood from the arm. It was in vain—Mr. Fayerweather was dead. His death, Dr. Holly gave it as his opinion, was accelerated by exposure to the cold and the long walk, the disease being a hardening of vessels about the heart; adding that if he could have taken the brandy (which stood on the table in a tumbler, apparently untasted,) it might have saved him. The grief of the family and friends of the excellent man may be imagined, but cannot be dwelt upon here.
The funeral was the longest that ever had been known in Salem, for never was any inhabitant of it more beloved and respected. As soon as madam was sufficiently composed, after the funeral, the ebony cabinet was searched and a will was found, dated the day before George’s departure. It gave the widow the homestead, which had become very valuable, together with the whole of the property she had brought; after several bequests, a large one to Mr. and Mrs. Wendell jointly, the remainder of the property was divided between the two sons. Mr. Wendell was named as executor. The estate was perfectly clear and unincumbered and little time was requisite to settle it.
A few weeks subsequent to the funeral of Mr. Fayerweather, the inhabitants of Salem were called together by an alarm of fire; an occurrence so very unusual as well as alarming, that it caused a great stir and commotion in the quiet and orderly town. The fire broke out in the office of the Register of Deeds, but was soon put out, doing, as was at first supposed, but little damage. Upon examination, however, it was discovered that several books of valuable records were destroyed, and others much injured. Mr. Wendell having ascertained that the one containing the copy of the Boynton quit-claim of the Fayerweather property was among the burnt, as well as that of a date many years prior, thought best to lose no time in having these important documents newly registered. Accordingly he looked into the cabinet, which had been put into his possession, for the originals.
Upon a thorough search with John Fayerweather, no trace of these papers was to be found in the cabinet; nor, to the astonishment and consternation of both, in any desk, trunk, drawer or closet in the premises of the deceased. The only conjecture madam or John could form in regard to the disappearance of these papers was, that either through accident or mistake, they had been left in their original place of deposit, and were now in the elder son’s possession in the little trunk. In the first vessel which sailed for London, therefore, intelligence was dispatched to Mr. Haliburton of the melancholy death of his old friend, and of the missing papers, that he might find means to convey notice to George, sooner than could be done from Salem.
The destruction of the records came to the knowledge of Jemmy Boynton as soon as to that of Mr. Wendell, and the delay of the latter to have the deeds recorded anew, did not escape her notice. Jemmy was ever on the alert to seize upon every circumstance which might possibly involve the risk or loss of property to others, in the well-grounded hope, which he rarely failed to realize, of in some way or other turning it to his own benefit. Accordingly the old fox was not slow to suspect some substantial reason for such delay or apparent neglect on the part of so careful a man of business as Mr. Wendell was well-known to be, and he did not stop till he had found out the true cause. To arrive at certainty, he thought it would be best to make a visit of condolence to the widow, judging from her well-known simplicity, she would give him all the information he desired. And he was not mistaken.
He took care to make his visit at a time when he felt pretty sure Madam Fayerweather would be alone. It was on a fine morning in June that Jemmy sallied forth. He had dressed himself in the best his wardrobe afforded; a suit of fine claret-colored broadcloth, which had been left in pawn to him years before by a needy French prisoner on his parole, and which had never been redeemed; a white satin waistcoat, grown somewhat yellow with age, and white silk hose with gold clocks, fitting tight to his spindle legs; all belonging to the same pledge. Possibly the finery of the jaunty Frenchman might have inspired him with some undefined notions of gallantry; for Jemmy was going to make a call upon a rich widow just six months in weeds. But if any airy visions fluttered about his heart and occasioned the smirk upon his withered physiognomy as he bent his way to her house, they were speedily put to flight on entering the parlor of madam, who manifested such unqualified discomfiture on seeing him, that the compliment which he had been framing during his walk, perished before its birth, and he felt called upon to account for his visit by the phrase of condolence he had previously conned over with much care.
“Madam, I come to condole with you on your bereavement—’twas a sorrowful bereavement.”
The tears came into the eyes of the widowed lady, but she felt so much relieved at finding Jemmy was not come to demand possession of the estate, as she at first had supposed, but was only making a friendly call in kindness, that it was not in her nature to take it otherwise than kindly. Her countenance resumed its usual benevolent expression, though much saddened of late, as she thanked him and inquired after “Miss Nancy’s health.”
“Thank ye kindly, madam, Nanny’s but poorly with the rheumatis; she sends her humble sarvice to you, and hope I see you well.” Then Jemmy proceeded in his most insinuating manner, to ask if there was nothing that he or Nanny could do to “sarve” her, and really appeared so friendly, that madam was taken by surprise, and out the secret came; for she thought it would be a fine opportunity to ask him for a new quit-claim of the whole property, which, from the great good-will he manifested, she could not doubt he would readily give.
His object so fully attained, Jemmy, in his elation became airy, and at length quite softened to the tender. Placing his brown forepaws upon his knees, he looked down upon his golden clocks, which he thought had helped him to win the day, and evading madam’s request, he turned the subject to her husband’s death.