LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 78, 31 August 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MR ARKLEY’S WILL. IN FOUR CHAPTER*. [From Chambers’ Journal.] ( Continued ,) George; did not understand at the moment, but Frederick did, and said, ‘ He moans Tompkins and Sharpe. I’ll go directly.’ George thanked his cousin, and Frederick hastened away. It was afternoon, and dusk, when Frederick arrived at the chambers of Tompkins and Sharpe. Mr Sharpe was in; and greetings having passed, Teesdale was informed of his uncle’s letter the previous night, and that the will prepared was ready for signature. ‘ Then let Tarsey (I suppose you’ll send Tarsey) come with me at once,’ he said, ‘for there is no time to be lost.’ Mr Tarsey, one of the clerks, was directed to accompany Frederick accordingly. The latter evidently knew Tarsey well, for directly they had started, a familiar conversation ensued. ‘ You’re in luck, Mr Teesdale. You don’t mind my telling you—a deal more than I thought you’d be, for the old gentleman was not thought to like you half so well as your cousin.’ ‘ You mean my uncle has not forgotten me in his will. He’s a good old soul, but dreadfully capricious. I was with him last evening, Tarsey, and he was exceedingly touchy —almost quarrelsome, in fact.’ ‘ Was he, indeed, Mr Teesdale ? Well that’s odd, when he had just framed instructions so much in your favor.’ ‘ I say, Tarsey, I don’t mind asking you. . How do you manage on these occasions ? Do you read over the will before it is signed ? ‘ Certainly, We take great care to insure the person understands what he is signing.’ ‘ Humph ! Quite right. Like a glass of wine, Tarsey ? It won’t be the first you and I have had together:’ Unfortunately not. Mr Tarsey had a failing. He liked a glass of wine, and he delighted in a bottle, Years ago he had had a little cellar of his own. But that time was over, though his thirst was not; nay, the desire had increased as the means dimi nisbed. The two were soon seated in the snuggery of a tavern well known to both, and a bottle of port was before them. That ended, Teesdale ordered another. Tarsey feebly protested. ‘ Stay, Mr Tocsdale ; I’ve my business before me, you know. I must keep my head cool and clear’ (and poor Tarsey pressed his brow, which had been unduly heated earlier in the day), ’else I shall be making mistakes.’ ‘ I’ll keep you straight if you need it, Tarsey ; but you won’t, you know, By-thc-bye, you said you have to read the will. In a loud tone—eh ?’ Tarsey finished his eighth glass of port, and holding the empty gloss to the lamp, stared at it as though he were examining the beeswing. ‘ Ye-eth, Mr Teethdale. I shall have to — to read it loud —and very dithtinkly.’ ‘Well, now, I say. Tarsey, just let me tell you something. You’ve given me a hint my uncle’s done kindly by me, and I have told you he’s of very uncertain temper’ ‘ I know it, Mr—Mr’ ‘ Yes; and that last night he and I had a bit of a tiff. Now, if he hears my name tonight, a hundred to one if he don’t alter his will at the last moment I’ ‘ The—the dev’ ‘Yes. Well, you see—eh ?’ ‘Ye-eth. I see—the dev’ ‘ Confound it —no. Here, I say, Tarsey, no more port.—Bring soda-water, waiter.’ Teesdale knew well how to deal with his companion, and soon brought him into a more respectable condition. This effected, he took him in a cab to the abode of the sick man. George Arkley had left; a piece of good luck at which Teesdale rejoiced. Having deposited Mr Tarsey in an easy chair in the dining-room, and ordered some coffee for him, Teesdale went to his uncle. Mr Arkley knew him, and replied to his inquiries, though with rather a painful effort. Frederick went into a back room, and summoned the old male domestic, who had been with his uncle for many years. ‘ James, what do you think of your master this evening ? Is he conscious of what he is doing, do you think?’ ‘ Well, sir, I’m afraid he hasn’t much sense in him just now.’ ‘ He’d know you from mo, James, at all events ?’ ‘ Hardly know that, sir. If I was to say you was I, and you was to say you was me, I think he’d say ; ‘ All right.’ ‘ That’s unfortunate, James. I’m afraid you won’t get some money you are very well entitled to.’ I’m sorry for that, sir. I’m not ’titled to much ; but what 1 is ’titled to, I likes to get.’ ‘ Quite right. Well, your master has summoned his solicitor, who has brought his will for signature. I don’t mind telling you, James, I know that in that will your name appears for fifty pounds. But, you see, my uncle must not sign a will unless we are sure he is conscious of what he is doing.’ • And is there a man or woman in this house, sir, who says my dear master is not conscious of what he is doing ?’ exclaimed James, reddening with anger, and clenching his fist. ‘ I’m an old man, sir, but just let me have a quiet word with them, that’s all.’ ‘ Just so, James. Your master is quite capable of signing a will, isn’t he?’ ‘ Certainly, sir. Why, he’s sense enough to supply all the idiots in our asylum.’ ‘Very good, James. Fetch Dr Bromley, please.’ James departed, still muttering and looking fierce, and soon returned with the doctor, who lived close by, ‘ Dr Bromley, said Teesdale quickly, ‘ just be kind enough to see my uncle, and ascertain whether he is in a condition to sign his will. The solicitor has been summoned at his request, and is waiting to take his signature.’ The doctor did as he was desired. On his return he said—‘ My poor friend don’t seem to know me at all ; I don’t think I can say conscientiously he is sulliciontly himself to make a will. He evidently is very weak and wandering, and, as you are aware, we must be so careful in these matters.’ Teesdale mentally cursed the doctor; ‘ Of course, Dr Bromley. Then I’ll dismiss the gentleman below. It is unfortunate, though, because I am quite sure, from something which dropped from my poor uncle one day, there is one bequest in his will upon which he had quite set his heart. Why

should I conceal from you that to a trifling extent he has sought to show his deep appreciation of your skill and kindness ?’ ‘Eh!’ exclaimed Ur Bromley, elevating his eyebrows, ‘ Has ray dear old friend really . Don’t let us be hasty i this matter, Mr Teesdale. If your poor uncle should not sign his will now, he may die without signing it.’ ‘ Quite true, doctor.’ ‘ And that would indeed bo sad. I might have it on my conscience over after that a rash opinion of mine (formed without a due knowledge of all the circumstances) had led to serious mischief. Mow careful we ought to be before committing ourselves. Suppose I see my respected friend again, There are often lucid intervals in cases of this kind.’ ‘Just so. I was going to suggest another visit, Dr Bromley,’ said Teesdale with a peculiar contortion of visage ; ‘and then we will decide.’ The doctor, who was gravity itself, reentered the sick room. The patient was alone. Frederick conducted the physician to the bedside, and then retired, only outside the door, however, where he stood and listened. He heard the doctor address his uncle in the most endearing terms. He called him his ‘oldest, kindest, and best friend ;’ ‘ his very dear companion ;’ ‘ his wcll-rcmembcrcd acquaintance of former days.’ Except sundry grunts, however, expressive of anything but pleasant appreciation, no reply came from Mr Arkley. At length there was a peculiar sound ; the doctor had begun to cry ; and then, with a suddenness which made Teesdale start again, the sick man exclaimed in aloud tone— ‘ Dr Bromley, you’re a precious idiot !’ On this Teesdale retreated into the draw-ing-room, where, in another minute, he was joined by the doctor, who took his hand and shook it warmly, his face beaming with smiles as he said—‘ My dear Mr Teesdale, I am so delighted to tell you. Your uncle has a lucid interval.’ ‘ And ho can sign the will, doctor ?’ ‘ Certainly, certainly ; his mind was never clearer, nor his judgment better,’ ‘I am very glad indeed, doctor. I won’t detain you. Good-bye.’ The doctor departed, and Teesdale sought Mr Tarsey. What was his horror on finding this worthy gentleman with the brandybottle before him (which, it seemed subsequently, he had coaxed the servant into giving him on the plea of his being suddenly unwell), and his face resting between his arms on the table. ‘ Drat the man,’ exclaimed Teesdale in great vexation. ‘ Another difficulty—Here, Tarsey, wake up, ray friend ; I want you directly ;’ and he gave the somnolent clerk a huge shake. Mr Tarsey rose, steadied himself, and looking with weeping eyes at his interrogator, faltered out—‘ OMr Teesdale, what a sight for me to see.’ ‘ What sight, you blockhead ? What do you mean ?’ ‘ The idea of your giving way to habits of intemperance,’ whimpered Tarsey. ‘ You in whom I had such confidence, Mr Teesdale. Oh, this is too much!’ My heart will break !’ And the unfortuate gentleman sat down heavily, and wept aloud. ‘ Did ever anybody know anything so maddening as this?’ muttered teesdale, half tempted to beat Mr Tarsey with the poker, ‘ What am I to do ?’ Here was a loud knock at the door. ‘ George Arkley’s knock, I’ll be sworn. Mercy on me, I’m ruined.’ A servant appeared. ‘Mr George Arkley, sir ; but he says he won’t stop unless you particularly want him, or his uncle is worse, as he is in a great hurry.’ ‘ Thank him very much,’ replied Teesdale, greatly relieved. ‘ I don’t want him, and uncle is rather better. Say I’ll call on him when I leave.’ The door closed, and that danger was over, then Teesdale dragged his legal friend upstairs, where he bathed his head with cold water for ten minutes, after which restorative treatment Mr Tarsey revived considerably.’ ‘Now for my uncle, Tarsey. Pray, do collect yourself, man, and don’t make a mess of it.’ With no small misgiving Teesdale introduced his companion into the sick room, He spoke gently to the invalid. ‘The confidential clerk from Tompkins and Sharpe’s, uncle. He has come at your bidding.’ The old gentleman roused and stared at Mr Tarsey. ‘ Singular-looking person,’ he murmured ; ‘ but I suppose it’s all right. Sir, I want to sign my will. Have you my will which I directed to be prepared ? Mr Tarsey bowed. ‘ Then leave us, Frederick, please. Shut the door, and keep everybody out for a few minutes.’ Teesdale partially obeyed. He left the room, but put the door half an inch open, so that he could hear all that passed. His dismay was great when Tarsey, oblivious of the hint he had received (and which Teesdale had afterwards, while they were in the cab, enforced and put more plainly to him), began reading the will in a loud tone : ‘ I give and bequeath to my nephew, Frederick Teesdale. twenty thousand pounds’ ,‘What ?’ exclaimed Mr Arkley in great astonishment. ‘Who in the world—what the dev 1 say, sir, you must be mad !’ The old gentleman’s vehemence sobered Tarsey. He recoiled Teesdale’s injunction to read this part in the lowest possible tone. 1 I see,’ he said to himself ; ‘ Mr Teesdale was quite right. The old gentleman still thinks of the quarrel they had at the last moment, and has now a mind to cut Mr Frederick out altogether. But he shan’t if I can help it. I beg pardon, sir,’ he said to Mr Arkley. ‘ Read that again,’ cried the sick man. ‘ I give and bequeath to my friend, James Smills of Bromptou, my grandfather’s milkgray’ . ‘ That isn’t what you read before. Begin again, tell you.’ ‘ I give and bequeath to Thomas Tinkle, secretary of the Frozen-out-Gardencrs Society the piece of plate, presented to me by the subscribers to that institution on the’ ‘ I tell you what it is, sir,’ said Mr Arkley in a thick voice. ‘Just turn your eyes to that corner. You see there a stick which has supported me twenty years or more. If you don’t begin again, in another minute you’ll see me out of bed, and in a minute 'more that stick and you will have made acquaintance of the most intimate description.’ Mr Tarsey was at his wits’ end. As to Frederick Teesdale outside, he was < n the vege of insanity. What was at hai d for him ? Discovery, ruin, the Old Bail *y, Portland Prison, perhaps.

Now, it will remain a secret to the end of time how on earth such an idea could have come into Mr Tarsey’s head, but it did come. He fancied a most brilliant notion had occured to him, and thus it was developed : he leaned forward, and looking Mr Arkley affectionately and compassionately, said in a low tone : ‘ Hush ! He's outside ; he will hear.’ ‘What an infernal scoundrel!’ thought Teesdale. ‘ Who’s outside ?’ almost shouted, Mr Arkley, ‘ ' ' ‘ The keeper; the man who has charge of you.’ ‘ What!’ shrieked the old gentleman. ‘Do you mean to say they think me mad 1 And have you the audacity to tell me But I’ll soon’ And out he sprung towards his stick. Mr Tarsey, aghast at the ill-success of his splendid conception, took to flight at once, and Teesdale rushed in, not knowing indeed what he could do, but seeing he attempt something. He took the already exhausted invalid by the arm, and partly led, partly lifted him again into bed. ■ * ‘Do you—do you—say lam mad?’ gasped poor old Mr Arkley. To he continued.