LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1384, 23 July 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

ROBERT BEAM LEIGH’S WILL. “Chambers’ Journal.” { Concluded.) Before allowing any one to leave the room, I placed the will in a large envelope. Fastening it with wax, I impressed it with Mr Bramleigh’s pnonogram and cresc. by means of a seal that was in the tray of the inkstand. The old man wavched me closely, and when I had finished, he said, * Keep it, till is is wanted thus relieving me of a great embarrassment, for I did not like leaving it in the power of Hannah Churton, lest she should tamper with it On our way down stairs Dr Ramsey told me that his patient was rapidly sinking, and that ho doubted whether ho would live another twenty-four hours. Taking him into the dining room and shutting the door, I told |him my suspicions of the housekeeper, and that I felt afraid of leaving Mr Brarnleigh alone with her all night. He agreed with me, and promised to send his assistant to watch till the morning, when, if Mr Brarnleigh should still be living, ho would on his own responsibility place a trustworthy nurse in charge. The housekeeper opened the door to let us out. ‘lt is all right, Mrs Churton,’ I maliciously said as the doctor wished her good night. ‘I am quite satisfied now. The will will be safe in my keeping. By-the bye,’ I added, looking her sharply in the face, ‘ had you not better let your master’s friends know of the danger be is in ? Dr. Ramsey says he does not think he will last much longer, ’ She mumbled something in reply, but I could not catch what it was. 1 stayed talking upon indifferent subjects, to while away the time until the arrival of Dr. Ram sey’s assistant Mrs Churton however was, unlike her sex, remarkably reticent; I could only get the shortest replies from her. She seemed very much astonished and rather displeased when Dr. Ramsey returned with his assistant. He explained to her that although there was no chance of saving his patient’s life, yet his last moments might bo alleviated by skilled attendance ; and therefore, as he himself could not stay all night, he had brought his assistant for that purpose. Ih one’s experience of mankind we find that it is possible to be sometimes too clover. Mrs Hannah Churton was very clever, but she committed two great mistakes. The first was in consulting a lawyer. The will drawn by her—for so it really had been—might have been upset on the ground of undue infiuence, I say‘might have been.’ for there is nothing so hard to prove as undue influence The great point against her was the ousting of a child in favor of a stranger. Yet it would have been far from easy to prove that she was responsible for this, as Mr Bramleigh’s strange aversion to the army was well known ; he often had been heard to threaten to discard his daughter if she should ever engage herself to a military man—doubtless thereby defeating his purpose, for the female mind is such that from Eve to the present generation the thing forbidden is the most desired. 1 think the probabilities that the matter would have been compromised, and Hannah Churton enriched by a few thousands of her master’s wealth. Mistake number two was as follows : The doctor hud gone upstairs to install his assistant leaving me standing in the hall with the housekeeper. Fumbling in her pocket, she pulled out a roll of bank notes ; thrusting these into my hands, she told me that it was her master’s wish that I should take them for my trouble. I unrolled them, and found two for ten, and one for five pounds I This was sharp, andyofc foolish of Hannah. Had I been as great a rogue as she was- and I suppose by her offering them to me she thought I was—she was retaining an important witness on her side, and therefore there was a certain amount of sharpness about it. On the other hand it was exceedingly foolish. The sum was so much out of proportion to my services that it was palpably a bribe. lam afraid that, had it come out in evidence, it would have lost her the case and perhaps struck me off the rolls. A long legal experience has taught me that in all dealings with doubtful people one’s safety lies in having a gmd witness. I waited till the doctor came down stars, occupying myself by entering the numbers of the notes in my pocket book. ‘ Look, doctor 1' I cried as he appeared, showing him the notes. ‘Mr Brarnleigh is a liberal paymaster.’ Turning to Mrs Churton, I said: ‘ This will amply repay me.’

Retaining the note for five pounds, I returned her the other two. She took them from me without saying a word, but a black look came over her face. 1 think she began to suspect me, I got home very late that night. The capon was more than done, and so was the oyster sauce ! Mr Bramleigh died the next morning at ten o’clock. ■oon aftar I had left he became unconscious, in which shite he remained till shortly before his death, when there was a rally. Opening his eyes with an eager look, as if ha missed something, he threw one arm outside the coverlet, and crying ‘Magdalen, Magdalen!’ he obeyed the summons which bade him thole his assize—yea, in that dread court where ‘ Not proven ’is unknow. Gui'ty or not guilty ? Who shall say ? The funeral took place on the Saturday, but an engagement pi evented me from following. Mrs Ohurton had written requestinn that I would attend with the will, which still remained in my possession with the one drawn by her. I arrived at the house a little after one o’clock, and was at once taken into the dining room, where I f ound Dr, Kamsey, Mr Robson (a brother practitioner), and a. handsome young fellow, who was introduced to me as Lieutenant Maitland, the late Mr Bramleiih’s son-in-law.

The door opened, and a young lady entered. It did not require any introduction to tell me she was the original of the por trait, still with its front turned towards the wall. Her face was very beautiful, notwithstanding its extreme paleness and the tear-swollen eyelids She seated herself by the the, her husband standing behind her, leaning his arms on the back of the chair. Mrs Churton had closely followed Magdalen Maitland into the room. She was dressed in deep mourning, and wore a black crape cap ; thus offering a marked contrast to Mrs Maitland, who was wearing a gray dress rather travel-soiled. Apparently she had had no time to prepare her mourning. Dr. Eamsey polit ly pulled forw r ard a chair for the housekeeper. Taking it from him with a cold ‘ Thank you,’ she placed it at the end of the table, directly facing me. stern and forbidding she looked in her b’ack garments —her features immovable, her hands resting on her knees. 1 was about to unseal the envelope containing the will, when Lieutenant Maitland interrupted me. ‘ One moment, if you please,’ bo said, placing bis hand on my arm. ‘Before this will is read, I wish to say a few words. Mrs Churton tells me that Mr Bramleigh lias left her everything unconditionally. I simply wish to express ray firm belief that Mr Bramleigh could only have been induced to make such a will by unfair and foul means. Although I have been the cause of an estrangement between father and daughter, I cannot think that ho could so far forget his love for her as to strip her of everything. It is my intention, for her sake, to contest this will; and it is with this view that I have requested my old friend, Mr Robson, to he present to-day as my legal adviser.’

His frank manly face was flushed with honest excitement as, leaning over the back of his wile’s chair, he took her face between his hands and kissed it. ‘ For your sake—not mine, dearest,’ I heard him whisper.

Mr Hobson bowed when his name was mentioned. Mrs Chnrton still retained her position A painful silence succeeded, unbroken save by the rustling of the paper as I broke the seal.

Magdalen Maitland had stolen her hand into her husband’s protecting clasp. I with-

drew the will from its cover, and looked at Mrs Churton, Would that firm face quiver when the lottery proved a blank, and the fair castle fell because its foundations had been built in the sand ? I could not help admiring the courage of the woman, and certainly felt curious as to how she would stand the ordeal through which she had to pass.

I read the will slowly and distinctly. It was very short. Save the annunity of fifty pounds to Hannah Churton for life, everything was left to Dr Ramsey and myself, in trust for Magdalen Maitland, to be settled on her as we in our discretion should thiuk fit.

Astonishment is a mild word to express the feelings of those present, nor wid I attempt to do so My tale lies with Hannah Churton. Starting to her feet, she pushed the chair from her, and stretching out one arm, gave utterance to a fierce torrent of invective. The veil was lifted, and the native coarseness of the woman’s nature stood revealed. It was as I had feared. Unmindful of the bounty of but too generous a master, she heaped obloquy on his memory, and fearlessly asserted that she had wasted the best years of her life in his service ! Magdalen Maitland covered her ears with her hands, to shut out the hard words. Her husband led her towards the door; but Hannah Churton intercepted them. Tearing her cap from hsr head, she threw it on the ground before the frightened girl. ‘ Trample on it!’ she cried in a frenzied voice. ‘ Your father’s victim has no right to wear it!’ I must admit that she looked grandly tragic as she declaimed these fierce words. I felt half sorry for the poor defeated creature. We had not a little trouble before the will was proved. It was strongly opposed by a sharp young fellow, who took up the case for Hannah Churton. It was, however, ultimately settled by an addition of another fifty pounds being made to the annuity she was to receive.

Lieutenant Maitland sold out of the army; and a rich relative of his dying soon afterwards, he inherited a large estate in Devonshire, where he and his wife went to reside.

Nine years have passed since then; and Mrs Maitland declares that there are ‘silver threads among the gold.’ The cares of a young family have somewhat marred her good looks, but they will live again in my little god-daughter Magdalen, who promises to rival her mother in beauty.

Strumming a Hummer. Apropos of those offensive people met with at every concert and opera, who with sublime impudence annoy the rest of the audience by talking, whistling, hummißg, kicking, and thumping the backs of the seats—out of time to the music—and whose behaviour is rapidly becoming an unbearable nuisance, Mr Croweft tolls a capital story. One of them had been persistently annoying an opera audience by humming loudly. At last his neighbour cried out, “ What a fool!” “ Are you referring to me ?” said the troublesome man. “ Oh, no, sir,” quietly observed the other ; “I mean Mario, who prevents me from hearing you.”