HALF A MILLION OF MONEY.

Westport Times, Volume III, Issue 367, 3 October 1868, Page 2

HALF A MILLION OF MONEY.

BY THE AUTHOR OF " BAKBABa's IIISTOBT."

Phologue A.D. 1700. Jacob Tbefalden, merchant and alderman of London, lay dying in an upper chamber of. his houf-e in Basing, hall-street, towards evening on the third day of April, Anno Domini seventeen hundred and sixty. It was growing rapidly dusk. The great house was full of gloom, and silence, and the shadow of death. Two physicians occupied two easychairs before the lire in the sick man's chamber. They were both notabiiif'fcie'i in their day. The one was Sir John Pringle, Physician Extraordinary to the King—a brave and skilful man who had smelt powder at Dettingen, and won the soldiers' hearts by his indomitable coolness under fire. The other was Doctor Joshua Ward, commonly called " Spot Ward " from his rubicund face ; and immortalised by ■Hogarth in that bitter caricature called the company of Undertakers. These gentlemen did little in the way of conversation. When they spoke at all, it was in a whisper. Now and then, they compared their watches with the timepiece on the mantelshelf. Now and then, they glanced towards the bed where, propped almost upright with pillows, an old man was sinking gradually out of life. There was something very ghastly in that old man's face, purple-hued, unconscious, and swathed in wet bandages. His eyes were closed. His lips were {swollen. His breathing was slow and stertorous. He had been smitten that day at noon by a stroke of apoplexy ; was carried home from Change in a dying state ; and had not -spoken since. His housekeeper crouched by bis bedside, silent and awestruck. His three sons and his lawyer waited in the drawing-room below. They all knew that he had not two more hours to live.

In the mean time the dusk thickened, nnd the evening stillness grew more aud more oppressive. A chariot rumbled past from time to time, or a nowsvenclor trudged by, hawking the London Graze t-te, and proclaiming the sentence just passed on Lord George Sackville. Sometimes a neighbour's footboy came to the door whth a civil inquiry ; or a little knot of passengers loitered on the opposite pavement, nnd glanced up, whispermgly, at the curtained windows. By-and-bye, even these ceased to come and go. A few oil-lamps were lighted at intervals along the dingy thoroughfare, and the stars and the watchman came together.

" In the name of Heaven," said Captain Trefalden, " let us have some lights !"- -and rang the drawing-room bcli. Candles were brought, and the heavy damask curtains were drawn. Captain Trefalden took up the Grazette; Frederick Trefalden looked at himself in the glass, arranged the folds of his cravat, yawned, took snuff, and con templated the symmetry of his legs • "William Trefalden drew his chair to the table, and began abstractedly turning over the leaves of the last Idler. There were other papers and books on the table as well .mong them a little volume called Kasselas, from the learned pen of Mr. Samuel Johnson (he was not yet LLD.), and the two first volumes of Tristram Shandy, written by that ingenious gentleman,the Reverend Laurence Sterne. Both works were already popular, though published only a few months before.

These three brothers were curiously alike; and curiously unlike. They all resembled their father ; they were all fine men; and they were all goodlooking. Old Jacob was a Cornish man, had been fair and stalwart in his youth, and stood five feet eleven withont his shoes. CajStain Trefalden was not so fair ;. Frederick Trefalden was not so tall ; William Trefalden was neither so fair, nor so tall, 7ior so handsome ; and yet they were all like him, and like each other.

Captain Jacob was the eldest. His father had intended him for his own business ; but, somehow or another, the lad never took kindly to indigo. He preferred scarlet—especially scarlet turned up with buff—and ho went into the army. Having led a roving, irregular youth ; sown his wild oats in various congenial European soils ; and fought gallantly at Hettingen, Eontenoy, Laffeldt, and Minden; he had now, at forty years of age, committed the unspeakable folly of marrying for neither rank nor money, but only for love. His father had threatened to disinherit Captain Trefalden for this misdeed, and, for five months past, had forbidden him thehouse. His brothers were even more indignant than their

father —or had seemed to he so- In short, this was the first occasion on which the worthy officer had set foot in Basirightili street for many long days ; and all three gentlemen were naturally somewhat constrained and silent.

Frederick, the second sdn t was thirty-six ; William thirty. Frederick hated indigo almost as cordially as his brother Jacob ; William had scarcely a thought that was not concerned in if. Frederick was an airy, idle, chocolatedrinking, snuff-taking, card-playing, ridotto-hunting man of pleasure. William was a cool, methodical amdtious man of business] Neither of the three had ever cared much for the other two. It was not in the nature of things that much affection should exist between them. Their temperaments and pursnits were radically unlike. They had lost their mother while they were yet boys. They never had a sister. The sweet womanly home links had all been wanting to bind their hearts together.

Andnowthebrotkerswere met under the father's roof, this memorable third evening in April ; and in the dark chamber overhead, already beyond all help from human skill, that father lay dying. They were all thinking the same thoughts.iu the silence of their hearts, and in those thoughts there was neither prayer nor sadness. Poor old man ! He was immensely rich —he was pitiably destitute. No one loved him; and he was worth Half a Million of money.

Mr Frederick Trefalden took out his watch, swore a fashionable oath, and declared that he was tarnishing. " Have somewhat to eat, brother Fred," suggested the captain • and so rang the bell again, and ordered refreshment to be taken into the diningroom.

The two TrefaUens exchanged glances and a covert smile. Their elder was already assuming the master, it should seem ! Well, well, Lawyer Beavington is there, and the will has yet to be read.

In the mean time Mr. Fred and the Captain go down together; for the latter lias ridden from Ifounslow, and will not object fco join his brother in " a snack of cold meat and a bumper of claret." Mr. Will, like a sober citizen, has dined at two o'clock, and only desires that a dish of tea may be sent to him in the drawing-room, Ifanything could be'more dismal than that gloomy drawing.room, it was the still gloomier dining room below. The walls were panelled with dark oak, richly carved. The chimney piece a/ponderous cenotaph in blackand yellow marble. The hangings were of mulberry-coloured damask. A portrait of the master of the house, painted forty years before by Sir James Thornhill, hung over the fireplace. Seen by the feeble glimmer of a couple of wax lights, there was an air of sepulchral magnificence about the place which was infinitely depressing. The ve-y viands might have reminded these Lentlemenof funeral baked meats —above all, the the great veal pasty which lay in state in the middle of the board. They were both hungry, however, and it did nothing of the kind. The captain took his place at the head of the table and plunged his kuife gallantly into the heart of the pasty. '' If thou hast as good a stomach, Fred, as myself," said he, growing cordial unde the influence of the good things before him, " I'll warrant thee we'll sack this fortress handsomly !" The fine gentleman shrugged his shoulders somewhat contemptuously. " I detest such coarse dishes," said he. " I dined with Sir Harry Fanshawe yesterday at the Hummums. We had a ragout of young chickens, not a week out of the shell, and some a la mode beef that would have taken thy breath away brother Jacob.'

.' I'd as lieve eat of the pastry as of any ragout in Christendom 1 ' said the captain. ' Mr Horace "Walpole and Mrs. Clive were at diuner all the time in the next room,' continued the beau: ' and the drollest part of the story is that Sir Harry and I adjourned in the evening to Vauxhall, and there, by Jove ! found ourselves supping in the very next box to Mr Horace, and Mrs Kitty again !" " ilelp yourself to claret, Fred, and pass the bottle," said the Captain, who, strange to say, saw no point in the story at all, " jtf ot bad wine," observed Mr Fred, tasting the claret with the air of a connoisseur. " The old gentleman hath an excellent cellar.', "Ay, indeed," replied the captain, thoughtfully. ' But he never knew how to enjoy his money," " Never."

"To live in a place like this, for instance," said the bean, looking, round the room. " Basinghail-street— faugh ! And to keep such ? cook; and never

to have set up his chariot! . Sdeath, sir you and I will know better what to do with the guineas !' ' I should think so, brother Fred—l should think so,' replied the captain, with a touch of sadness in his voice. !' Twas a dull life—poor old gentleman ! Methiuks you .and I might have helped to make it gayer.' ' Curse me, if I know how !' Ejaculated Mr Fred.

'By sticking to the business—by j living at home—by doing like young Will, yonder,' replied the elder brother. 'That boy hath been a better sou than you or I, brother Fred.' Mr Fred looked very grave indeed. 1 Will hath an old head on young shoulders,' said he. ' Harkee, Jacob, hast any notion how the old man hath bestowed his money?' ' No more than this glass of claret,' replied the captain. They were both silent. A footstep went by in the hall. They listened ; they lo kad at each other; they fill eel their glasses again. The same thought was uppermost in the mind of each, ' The fairest thing, Fred,' said the honest captain,' would be, if 'twere left to us, share and share alike.'

' Share and share alike !' echoed Mr Fred, with a sounding oath. ' Nay ; the old man was to pproud of hisfortune to do that, brother Jacob. My own notion of this matter is- Hush ! Any one listening?' Captain T efalden rose, glanced into the hall, closed the door and resumed his seat. ' Not a soul. Well ?'

' Well, my own notion is, that we younger sons shall have a matter of sixty or eighty thousand a piece ; while you, as the head of the family, will take the bulk.' ' It may be, Fred,' mused the captain, complacently. ' And the bulk,' continued Mr Fred, ' will be some three hundred and forty thousand pounds.' ' I shall have to ask the, Fred, how to spend it,' said the captain smiling. ' Then thou shalt spend it like a prince. Thou shalt buy an estate in Kent, and a town-house in SoHo ; thou shalt have horses, chariots, lacqueys, liveries, wines, a pack of hounds, a box at the Italian Opera ' ' Of which I don't understand a word,' interrupted the captain. (To he Oontinued.)