LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume III, Issue 241, 18 March 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MY FATHER’S WILL. BY FREDERICK TALBOT, AUTHOR OF ‘JACK PUGH’S LEGACY,’ ‘ LOTEIe’s FORTUNE,’ ETC. ( Continued .) , ‘ Are the doors all locked ?’ ‘Yes, they’re all fastened; but they’ll break them in, 0, speak to them, Mr Richard; speak to them, and tell them it’s not my fault!’ ‘ You’d better get Mr Bruff to speak to them,’ 1 said coldly. ‘ They’re worse against him than me. O, they’ll kill us both!’ A tremendous hoot or roar, and a thundering noise against the back and front doors, a shower of pebbles against the windows. Hannah flung herself on her knees, and wrung her hands. I’ll speak to them,’ I said, after a moment’s thought, and went up-stairs, and opening one of the first-floor windows, put my head out and shouted ‘ Halloo!’ _ It was not so dark outside as within the house. There was a full moon; and though the moon itself was not visible, it shed a strange diffused light over the scene. A man who seemed to be a ringleader among them held up his hands, when he saw my head at the open window, as a signal for silence; a silence that was pretty well kept by the men, although the voices of the women still ran on in a shrill treble. ‘ What do want,’ I shouted, ‘ attacking a quiet house like this?’ ‘ Are you blaster Hargrave?’ said the speaker. ‘Yes, lam.’ ‘We don’t mean any harm to ye. We want Bruff and the woman Hannah. ’

‘ Why do you want them ?’ ‘ To put ’em inf horse-pond.’ There was a general chorus of approbation at this announcement.. ‘ Look here,’ I cried, as soon as tbe roar had died away. ‘ Well, master?’ ‘ You may do what you like with the man, but you sha’n’t have the woman.’ The man turned round as.if to take the opinion of the crowd. The women s voices were raised in loud and shrill dissent. ‘Bring her out !’ they cried ; ‘ bring her out !’ And 1 heard a voice, too, above them all—a detei mined female voice— * We’ll fettle her.’ ‘ You hear, master ?’ said the spokesman. ‘We mun have ’em both. ’ I shook my head, shut the window, and returned to where Hannah was still kneeling, crying and shivering. ‘You hear what they say. What more can I do, Hannah ?’ «o, save me, Richard ! save me ! she cried ; ‘ they will kill me.’ ‘ I don’t think they’ll harm you much ; they’ll give you a good ducking, and there’ll be an end of it. ’ ‘ 0, but it isn’t fit for me ; it will kill me indeed, M aster Richard and she whispered something into my ear. ‘The deuce!’ I said, under my breath; ‘well, I'must do what I can. Where s Bruff?’

‘Hiding in the cellar—the mean seoun drel 1’

‘ Is there anybody else in the house V 1 No one.’ ‘ The horse is in the stable, Bruff’s horse and trap ? ’ ‘ Yes, sir; and the lad’s there too.’ The stable and coach-house, and a paved yard in front, were enclosed by high walls with chevaux-de-frise on the top of them, and wide folding-gates opened into the street. A side door led from the house into the stable-yard, from which there was no exit save by the gates. These gates were guarded by the crowd, but they had not possessed themselves of the stable-yard, which indeed was sufficiently defended by its walls and the chevaux-de-srise.

I walked out into the stable, roused the lad, who was quietly sleeping in the straw through all this turmoil, and bade him put the horse in the dog-cart. It was a fine spirited animal—a black horse —the property of Mr BrufF. Too good a horse, you would have said, for a small country lawyer ; but Bruff did a little horse-dealing as well as will-making, and always kept a good one. I told Hannah to put her cloak and bonnet on, and then went to the cellar-stairs and called to Bruff; but he had hidden himself, and would not answer a word. There was no time to be lost, as the factory lads had scrambled up to the upper windows, had found one unfastened, and were dropping in one by one. I drew Hannah into the yard where the horse and dog-cart were standing, the horse rearing and plunging, and half mad with excitement and eagerness. I pushed Hannah into the dog-cart, jumped up at the other side, seized the reins, and bade the boy throw open wide the gates. We were greeted with a roar of astonishment and defiance from the crowd, and the horse, frightened by the unaccustomed sight and sound, turned away from the gate, and bade fair to wreck the dog-cart against the stable-wall. But I gave him a couple of lashes across his flanks that sent him madly forward; the crowd shrank away, and involuntary opened a path for us to pass. Some one—a woman made a wild snatch at the horse’s head, but she fell, and the wheels passed over her. In another moment we were speeding along the Slapton road.

I was obliged to trust to the instinct of the horse, for I could not see a yard before me, and feared every moment that we might dash against some obtacle in our wild career, and be left helpless on the road, at the mercy of the prusuiug mob, who were howling fiercely in our rear. We dashed on, however, without accident, and presently the cries of the populace sounded faint and fainter in the distance.

I drove on, without saying a word, mile after mile, till the lamps of Slapton appeared, twinkling in the distance. ‘You’ll go to Bruff’s I suppose?’ I said, looking down at my travelling companion. She nodded acquiescence, and I said no more to her until we stopped at Bruff’s house, a long low building with offices at one end, the entrance to which latter was by an outside stair. There was no one there to receive the horse, and I took it out of the shafts, and put it into the stable. There was a light in the office, and I thought that I had better tell Bruff’s clerk to look after the horse.

Perhaps I ought to have given the alarm about the riot to the police at Slapton ; but I thought that it was no business of mine l They might wreck the house and duck Mr Bruff as much as they pleased; neither would affect me. I felt that I had been robbed and cajoled by the fellow, and the thought of his possible misfortune was pleasant to me, I had wrapped myself up, as we came along, in a great blue cloak that I had found in the dog-cart; and as the night was cold, and I had a cough upon me, I gathered its folds closely about my throat as I went upstairs. An elderly clerk in spectacles was sitting in the outer office, busily writing, his nose close to his paper. To my surprise, as I entered the door, he sprang to his feet, and went to open an inner door that led into another office. Here he briskly stirred the fire into a blaze, lit the gas, placed a chair at the writing-table, and held the door of the room whilst I entered, smiling a bland unmeaning smile. Evidently the man was purblind, and took me for his master. At once the impulse seized me to take advantage of his mistake. I walked into the inner office, seated myself at the writingtable. If there were any hidden conspiracy to defraud me of my father’s property, here was my only chance of detecting it. Dismissing all scruples of conscience, I set resolutely to work to search all the drawers and receptacles that were unlocked. All without result There was no papers with the name of Hargrave on them. Indeed, it was hardly likely that Bruff would have left any written evidence of his guilt, if guilty he were. There was this one chance, however. Bruff was not a methodical man clearly in the matter of letters. Evidently he carried them about in his pockets, and when his pockets were full, he emptied them upon the mantelshelf ; for that was crammed with letters creased and soiled and worn at the edges, and huddled up into all sorts of folds. Rapidly I examined these letters one by one. At last I was rewarded: here was a letter in my father’s handwriting—a letter dated about a year ago, and with reference to a will then preparing. But, alas, it contained only instructions in complete accordance with the will produced at the funeral, and it was written in terms so clear and vigorous, that there could be no doubt that he was in full possession of his faculties, ‘I desire,’he said, at the conclusion, ‘that my sou should suffer for his neglect and insolence to the very end of his days.’ I turned away with a groan of weariness and disappointment. To complete my confusion, 1 beheld Mr Bruff - there watching me, his face pale and menacing. ‘ What! ’ he cried; ‘ I have come back just in time to stop thee. Here, Mr Inspector, come in here; here’s the ringleader of them all robbing my office,’ To explain Mr Brulf’s appearance it is necessary to revert to the scene of the riot at Halton. I seemed that after I had driven away, the crowd, believing that those ofc whom they were in search had escaped, suddenly dispersed, leaving one of their number —a woman, who had been most active in tho riot —lying on the ground with a broken leg. The local police, who now ventured to appear, had taken possession of this woman, and Mr Bruff had put himself under their protection. With a view to the safe custody of the riotous female, as well as to place Mr Bruff in safety, a vehiclehadbeen driven over to Slapton, containing the police inspector, Bruff himself,, and the woman, who was no other than my old friend Sarah, whom I had unwittingly injured by diiving over her. To be continued.