That Mainwaring Affair by A. Maynard Barbour (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📕

The latter glanced up from his writing and nodded pleasantly, as Mr. Whitney, pale with excitement, was ushered by the butler into the library.

"Mr. Mainwaring, is your father in?" the attorney inquired, hastily.

"I believe so," replied the young man, smiling broadly; "the last I knew, the governor was luxuriating in his rooms up-stairs; I think you will find him there now. How's the case coming on, sir?" he added, as the attorney turned quickly towards the hall. "Anything new developed?"

"Yes; decidedly new!" Mr. Whitney answered, rather brusquely; "you had better join us up-stairs!" and he disappeared.

The young man's face grew suddenly serious, and, springing from his chair, he swiftly followed the retreating figure of the attorney, arriving just in time to hear the latter exclaim, in reply to some question from his father,—

"Well, sir, the storm has burst!"

Ralph Mainwaring was, as his son had said, "luxuriating" in a superb reclining chair, his eyes half closed, enjoying a fine Havana, but the attorney's words seemed to produce the effect of an electric shock.

"The deuce, sir! what do you mean?" he demanded, instantly assuming an upright position.

"I simply mean that what I have expected and dreaded all along has at last come to pass."

"Then, since it was not unexpected, it is to be presumed that you were at least prepared for it! That shyster and his designing client must, at the last moment, have exerted their inventive faculties to a remarkable degree!"

"On the contrary," said the attorney, quietly ignoring the other's sarcasm, and handing copies of the evening papers to father and son, "I am satisfied that neither Hobson nor his client has any part in the developments of this afternoon."

A brief silence followed, during which the attorney watched the two men before him, noting the strange contrast between them, never until that moment so apparent. Young Mainwaring's boyish face grew pale as he read, and he occasionally glanced at Mr. Whitney, as though seeking in his face either confirmation or contradiction of the report, but he remained calm and self-possessed, preserving his gentlemanly bearing to the close of the interview. The face of the elder man, however, rapidly assumed an almost apoplectic hue, the veins standing out from his temples like whip-cords, and when he spoke his voice trembled with rage. He was the first to break the silence, as, with an oath, he flung the papers upon the floor, exclaiming,—

"It is a lie from beginning to end! The most preposterous fabrication of falsehood that could be devised! The 'will,' as it is called, is nothing but a rank forgery, and the man who dares assert any claim to the estate is a damned impostor, and I'll tell him so to his face!"

"I examined the document very carefully, Mr. Mainwaring," said the attorney, "and I shall have to admit that it certainly had every appearance of genuineness; if it is a forgery, it is an exceedingly clever one."

"Do you mean to tell me that you believe, for one moment, in this balderdash?" demanded Ralph Mainwaring, at the same time rising and striding about the room in his wrath. "The utter absurdity of the thing, that such a will ever existed, in the first place, and then that it would be secreted all these years only to be 'discovered' just at this critical moment! It is the most transparent invention I ever heard of, and it is a disgrace to your American courts that the thing was not quashed at once!"

"That could not very well be done," said Mr. Whitney, with a quiet smile; "and as the matter now stands, the only course left open for us is to prepare ourselves for a thorough investigation of the case."

"Investigation be damned!" interrupted the other, but, before he could proceed further, he was in turn interrupted by young Mainwaring.

"I say, governor, you'd best cool down a bit and listen to what Mr. Whitney has to say; if this thing is a forgery, we surely can prove it so; and if it isn't, why, all the bluster in the world won't help it, you know."

His father faced him with a look of withering contempt. "'If' it is a forgery! I tell you there are no 'ifs' about it. I suppose, though, you are just fool enough that, if any man made a pretence of a claim to the estate, you would simply hand it over to him, and thank him for taking it off your hands!"

"That's just where you are wrong, governor. I would fight him, fair and square, and he would have to prove a better claim than mine before he could win. But the point is this, don't you know, you can fight better with your head cool and your plans well laid beforehand."

"The young man is right," said Mr. Whitney, quickly; "there is every indication that our opponent, whoever or whatever he may be, is well prepared for contesting the case. I understand he has plenty of evidence on his side and the best of legal counsel."

"Evidence, I suppose," interposed Ralph Mainwaring, with a sneer, "in support of a document that never existed, and a man that never lived on the face of the earth; for Harold Mainwaring never had a living son. Have you seen this remarkable individual?"

"I believe no one in this country has seen him as yet, sir. He is expected to arrive on the 'Umbria,' which I understand is due the early part of next week."

The face of the other showed slight surprise at this statement, but, before he could speak, the young man inquired,—

"I say, Mr. Whitney, what sort of a man is this attorney, Sutherland? Is he another Hobson?"

Mr. Whitney shook his head significantly. "Mr. Sutherland is one of the ablest men in his profession. I consider him a fine jurist, an eloquent pleader, and a perfect gentleman. I had some conversation with him after court adjourned, and while he, of course, stated no details, he gave me to understand that his client had a strong case. He also informed me that Barton & Barton, of London, had been retained in the case, and that his client would be accompanied to this country by the junior member of the firm, Alfred Barton."

"By Jove, that looks bad for us!" ejaculated young Mainwaring, while his father exclaimed, impatiently,—

"Barton & Barton? Impossible! that is mere bombast! Why, man, the Bartons, father and sons, have been the family solicitors of the Mainwarings for the past fifty years. The old firm of Barton & Sons had charge of the settlement of the estate when it passed into Hugh Mainwaring's possession at the death of his father."

"So I had understood," said the attorney; "I have heard Mr. Mainwaring himself speak of them."

"And," continued the other, "only a few days before sailing for America, I called at their chambers in London and told them of Hugh's intentions regarding my son and received their congratulations. Now, sir, do you mean to tell me, in the face of all this, that Barton & Barton are retained by this mushroom claimant, whoever he is? Pooh! preposterous!"

Mr. Whitney shook his head slowly. "Mr. Sutherland is not the man to make any misstatements or allow himself to be misinformed. All I have to say is, if those attorneys are retained in the case, it certainly looks as though our opponent must have some tenable ground in support of his claim. I am inclined to think they will make us a hard fight, but I am confident that we will win in the end. The main point is this: we must be prepared to meet them on whatever ground they may take, and, after hearing their side and the proof they set up, we can easily determine our line of defence."

"To the deuce with your line of defence! I tell you, Whitney, there is just one point to be maintained, and, by my soul, it shall be maintained at any cost!" and the speaker emphasized his words by bringing his clinched hand down upon a table beside him with terrific force "that point is this: Harold Scott Mainwaring never had a living, lawful son; no such person exists, or ever has existed on the face of the earth, and I can prove what I say."

"Have you absolute proof of that?" Mr. Whitney inquired, quickly.

"I have," replied Ralph Mainwaring, triumphantly, while his cold, calculating gray eyes glittered like burnished steel. "If any man thinks I have been asleep for the past twenty-one years, he is deucedly mistaken. Mr. Whitney, since the day of that boy's birth," pointing to his son, "I have had but one fixed resolve, which has been paramount to everything else, to which everything else has had to subserve,—the Mainwaring estate with its millions should one day be his. Not a day has passed in which this was not uppermost in my mind; not a day in which I have not scanned the horizon in every direction to detect the least shadow likely to intervene between me and the attainment of the dearest object of my life. When the news of Harold Mainwaring's death reached England, in order to guard against the possibility of a claim ever being asserted in that direction, I set myself at once to the task of finding for a certainty whether or not he had left any issue. I never rested day or night until, after infinite labor and pains, I had secured the certificate of the attendant physician to the effect that the only child of Harold Mainwaring died within an hour from its birth."

"Have you that certificate now?" inquired the attorney.

"Not here; it is among my private papers at home."

"Cable for it at once; with the death of Harold Mainwaring's child fully established, the will would cut no figure, one way or another."

"That will," said Ralph Mainwaring, fiercely, turning upon Mr. Whitney with an expression which the latter had never seen, "let me tell you, will cut no figure one way or another in any event. That will, remember, is a forgery; and, if necessary, I will prove it so, if it takes my last shilling and the last drop of my heart's blood to do it; do you understand?"

The attorney understood, and was more than ever convinced in his ow mind that the old will filed that day was genuine.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Mrs. LaGrange sat alone in her apartments, awaiting the coming of Richard Hobson. It was considerably past the hour which he had set and daylight was slowly merging into dusk, yet enough light still remained to show the changes which the last few weeks had wrought in her face. Her features looked pinched and drawn, and a strange pallor had replaced the rich coloring of the olive skin, while her dark eyes, cold and brilliant as ever, had the look of some wild creature suddenly brought to bay. She shuddered now, as, from her window, she saw the cringing form of Hobson approaching the building.

"To think," she exclaimed to herself, passionately, "that that creature is the only one to whom I can go for counsel or advice! I loathe the very sight of him; fool that I was ever to place myself within his power! I thought I could use him as a tool like the rest; but it is like playing with edged tools; yet I dare not let him go."

A moment later, she heard a stealthy, cat-like tread in the corridor outside, followed by a low, peculiar tap at the door, and Hobson entered.

She crossed the room slowly, keeping her face