THE LOST WILL.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2343, 16 July 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE LOST WILL.

IKuu'fot

IN T*V(.) PARTS. PART I. Extract from Hugh McKenzie's Diary. 7th December, IS Had a splendid run witi. the hounds today, and brought Jack Edwards hack to dinner—the last, I hope, of these bachelor dinners, as I go to West Croft to-morrow. The day after will see my wedding ; Lillian will he mine, and an end, will have come to all the misery and uncertainty of the last eighteen months. Jack told me no end of Ids adventures ; lie seems to have had a fine time, and to he imicli inclined, alter a few months’ rest, to start for another year’s travel, trying Africa as a change.

He was very curious to hoar from me the true story of tlic finding of the will, as ho had only heard the most extraordinary rumours ; when I told him, ho would scarcely believe mo ; hut says now, that in this incredulous age, it is deary my duty to make the circumstances known. Well, this weary night seems as if it would never end : why should I not pass the time hy jotting them down. A happy thought I I’ll begin at once. My father, Walter McKenzie, was the youngest of three brothers, sons of a wealthy Liverpool merchant; idolised by his mother he was completely spoilt, with the result that, when launched into college life, he went at such a pace that Ins father, after paying his debts three times, flatly refused to do so again unless lie left the university and took his place in in til-! business. My father’s tnstes w'ere decidedly literary, and if he hated one thing more than another it was the idea of being cooped up in an ollioc. Ho therefore absolutely refused my grandfather’s offer, who thereupon sent him a cherjne for £S,(.OJ, telling him at the same time that it was the last he would ever see of his money, and desiring him never again to write to him, ns his letters would be returned unopened. I need scarcely say that my grandmother was dead before this occurred, or 1 suppose it would not have happened. My father paid his debts, and soon after married my mother, the daughter of an old tutor, a very sweet gentlewoman, hut without a penny. This put lilt; finishing touch to Ids disgrace; my grandfather never forgave him, and when the old man died, a few years before my father, his name was not even mentioned in Ids will, but everything was divided ■between my two uncles, Hugh ami Henry; the former, who was in Ids Lather’s business, had the larger share, tthough my uncle Henry, a rising barrister, was also amply provided for. After my father’s marriage he lived in London, trying to make a living by writing ; it was hard work, and my mother’s ill-health, with the illness and deaths of the children who were born before me, soon exhausted the remainder of the sum Ids father had given him. He saw or heard hut little of his brothers ; not that they were intentionally unkind, but they were busy, active men, who thought their brother bad shown himself a great fool

Wlicn I was born, my mother insisted on my father asking Ida eldest brother Hugh to be my godfather; to this he consented, and I was named after him ; lie also sent his godson £5 ; tin's, however, was the extent of ids interest in me until my father’s death, which happened when I was about seven years old. He had been out of health a long time, and sitting one day for hours in Ids wot ■clothes brought on an attack of rheumatic fever, which he had no power to resist, hut after a few days of severe suffering died, leaving my mother and myself totally unprovided for. Under these circumstances my mother wrote to my godfather asking Idm if he would help her with my education ; to her intense surprise, she received in reply a letter proposing that she should take the management of his house—l have omitted to say that he was a bachelor—taking mo with her ; he also promised to bear the entire coat of my education, provided it was left entirely in Ids hands, and to settle on me a sum of money sufficient to start me in any business or profession I might choose. His letter ended in the following characteristic way “If yon agree to these proposals, I shall be glad if you and your son will come to me next Wednesday; hnt I think it right to tell you at once, that tlierc may ho no disappointment hereafter, that I have made my will, leaving everything, except a small legacy to your son, to my nephew Hugh Henry, the eldest son of my brother Henry, and that, I do not intend to alter that will; so that if you come with any idea of my being

| induced to malic yonr son my heir, you | will bo vastly mistaken ; and one thing I more, I must request that you will not 1 mention this communication to anyone.'’ j Poor dear mother 1 I can just recollect j her horror at this insinuation, and she I has often (old me that at lirst she was so 1 angry that she made up her mind to I write and decline my uncle’s oiler; but her own family, who dreaded having her as a burden on them, induced her to accept. Accordingly to Liverpool we went, and I am sure my mother’s gentle presence added imm<>usely to the comfort and happiness of my uncle’s house; at first both my mother am! I stood in awe of him, he was so intensely quiet and reserved, nor did my mother ever seem quite at her case with him. I soon discovered, like most children, the warm heart under the cold, rough surface, ami, from not being afraid of him, soon began by taking liberties, which, far from resenting, would bring a bright, pleasant sparkle in his eye, I saw very little of him when wo were at Liverpool, as he was at business all day ; but about two years after our going to live with him he bought a beautiful estate, in Gloucestershire—Bireb L'liff, near Fairtown-grove—-and, as the years went by, lived there for longer and longer periods in each year, until at last ho retired altogether, anil withdrew to his country home ; there he liked to have me always with him, and took to calling me “my boy.” I had also a pony of my own, and, as soon as I had learnt to ride, became more than over his companion; my uncle Henry’s children used to come on long visits, every summer, but, with these exceptions, I had no friends of my own age until I went to school. Hugh Henry, commonly called “ Harry,” was my favourite cousin ; he was eight years older than myself—a tho, roughly jolly, warm-hearted fellow. When I was eleven I was sent to Malburn College, where I stayed until I was nineteen. My school days wore uneventful; I did much the same as other boys, passed through the forms pretty decently, and when I left was captain, not only of the school, but also of the Cricket and Football Clubs. I am afraid I prized the latter honours most. My mother said my uncle always looked forward eagerly to my holidays, and he was very kind in allowing me to ask any of my school chums to stay with me. I left Malburn at Midsummer; up to that time nothing had been said as to my future career, but about a week after mv return my unde called me”into his study, saying he wished to speak to me on a matter of some importance. He began * Well, my boy, its about time to be thinking of what you are going to do or be ; have yon any particular wish on the the subject, for I suppose yon have thought about it ?” ‘Oh, yes, naturally, I think I have made up my mind to be a barr s er. I like speaking, and, as you know, got on (airly well in our Debating Society.” 'That’s yonr idea, is it? ,Well, I think I have a better one ; I should like'you to take up politics, and go on with your education with the idea of entering Parliament. What d’ye say to that?” ‘lt is of all things the one I should like you take up polities, and go on with your education with the idea of entering Parliament. Why d'ye say to that ?’ ‘ Well, practically yon are a rich man’s son, as I have made a will leaving you my heir ; nay, no thanks ; in doing so, it has been more for my own pleasure than yours,and youjwill please me best by never referring to it; 1 should wish yoifffo go to Oxford, and when you have finished your terms there, it will be as well for you to have two or three years travel ; but remember, my boy, no debts ; they Were the rocks on which your father grounded, and I tell you candidly, if you behaved as lie did, I should treat you as my father treated him. I am prepared to make you a. liberal allowance, and to push you in every way, but ‘again I say, no debts,”

I cannot picture my surprise, nor my mother’s when I told her of this change in my fortunes ; of course, it altered tiie whole bent of my ideas for the future. The next four years I spent at college. During one of the long vacations I came of age. There was the usual rejoicings ; my uncle, and Aunt Henry, my cousins, with numerous otiier friends ami relatives, stayed in tho house, and at the dinner given to tho tenantry I was publicly acknowledged as my uncle's heir.

I had (lone fairly at Oxford, taking a oreditaMe degree, and when 1 left Jack Edwards and I started for a long tour, to extend nut only through Europe, hut to India and America. After I had been gone about a year I was summoned homo by my mother’s dangerous illness ; she was better when I returned, but as she did not like my leaving home again immediately, I stayed for a couple of months ; during this rime I saw a great deal of the Marlcts, Sir Duncan and Lady Marlet were our nearest neighbours. I had known but very little of them up to this time, as they had lived a great deal abroad on account of Lady Marlot’s health. But now they were settled down at West Croft, about five miles from us, and Lillian, their eldest daughter, made her debut at a hall which was given while I was home. I was greatly smitten the first time I saw her, and she has since acknowledged that she also was taken with me. After the ball I managed to see her nearly every day, and before I left to rejoin Edwards I should certainly have spoken to her ami tried to win her promise to be mine, had not my uncle one day, when we were riding together, expressed his wish so strongly that I should finish my travels unfettered, that I felt hound to comply. He admitted that lie liked Lillian, and was pleased with the idea of the match, as indeed he could not fail to be, but lie pointed out that she was almost too young—only 17—to know her own mind; that it would be a good proof each other’s constancy if our penchant stood the test of months of absence, and that I should be better able lo profit by the varied experiences by which I should be surrounded if undisturbed by letters from her. Of course I urged every argument I could think of to the contrary; but when ouce my uncle had come to a decision, it was worse than useless to try to turn him, and I was therefore oblig'd, sorely against my will, to start again ou my travels without a word. Edwards was waiting for me in India, where we spent some nine mouths, and it would be easy for me to fill a volume with the history of our hunting and other adventures ; bet as they have nothing to do with this story, I will leave them to some future occasion, from India we went to Australia and New Zealand, from thence to San Fransisco, across America home, where we arrived after an absence of more than two years, broken in my case by my return when my mother was so ill. 1 was glad to find her boking very well, but was shocked at the alteration in my uncle, who seemed wasted and feeble, though he did not complain of anything being amiss. As may be readily imagined, not many days passed before I called ou the .Mn-iets; I bad found from inquiries the Lilliau was still unmarried, and that an old Lord Trecur had boon paying her a groat deal of attention for some time past. It was generally believed that her parents were urging on the match, but that she did not care for him. However, when I put in an appearance they seemed very pleased to see mo, and professed themselves delighted with the small re-

inembfimccri I had brought homo for them. Lillian I thought more charming than ever, and before threo months had passed wo wore formally engaged, with the conseuut of our respective relatives ; she thou told mo that her parents had strongly pressed Lord Trocar’s suit, but that she had determined to await my return. There was no reason for delay, and the wedding was accordingly fixed for the last day of June. So far everything had gone well, but one day towards the end of May, when his valet went to call my uncle in tho morning ho found him insensible. The man rushed into my room, exclaiming that his master was dead ; and when I readied tho room,jl also thought so atfirst. I immediately sent for the doctor, and used every effort I knew of to revive him, but all (o no effect. At lust the doctor came, and said ho must have had u paralytic seizure during the night; it was too late for any remedies to be of use, He never fully regained consciousness or speech. The only thing he said which wo could at all understand was something about a favourite tree in the shrubbery—an arbutus. He never recognised any of us, and after a few hours in this state., passed quietly away. Ho had been a father to me, and as such I mourned for him. My Undo Henry and cousins, Sir Duncan Marlct, and a few other personal friends wore at tho funeral. lof course ordered and arranged everything ; in fact, acted as I believed myself to bo, veritable master. The first suspicion I had of anything being wrong' was when the solicitor, Mr Carter, who 1 had asked to bring tho will with him, said ‘ you asked me, Mr Mckonzie, to bring tbe will with me. I have brought the only one wo have. But there is one much later, executed about eight years ago, for which I took the instructions and drew up myself, We never had it, as your late unde said he should prefer keeping it himself. Probably you have found it ’ere now.”

“ No, indeed ; I have looked throng my uncle’s papers, and there is no sig of a will; that is why I telegraphed to you to bring it, thinking it must be in your care," “Have you any reason for thinking it probable that your uncle destroyed the will to which I refer?” "On the contrary, it must have boon about the time yon mention that he told mo ho had lately made a will. Ho also told mo its purport, but I have not the slightest idea where he kept it ‘Ah ! probably that was the one I drew up. Would yon like the reading to be deferred until you have made another search ?’ 'Thank yon, hut I feel sure I have looked everywhere, so yon may as well read tho one you have.’

Accordingly it was road. From its date and purport it must have been the one to which ray uncle alluded in his first letter to my mother, and in it, after leaving £IO,OOO to me when I name of age, lie bequeathed everything unreservedly to my cousin. 1 was completely overwhelmed, and everyone was so astonished that for a few moments not a word was said. Then Harry came up to me. 1 Cheer up, old fellow, there must ho some mistake about this. Everyone knows that uncle meant yon to he his heir. Tho will Mr Carter mentions must ho somewhere, and the best thing wo can do is to sit np to-night and have a regular hunt for it.” That night wo wore up until two o'clock searching «u every conceivable place for the missing will, but there was not a sign of it anywhere ; we wore much puzzled by finding on his hunch of keys a tiny ring, and on it two of Chubb's patent keys, which did not fit any of tho leeks we had found. At last, in taking out one of the drawers of the escritoire, we discovered a paper which had evidently slipped down behind it; on it was tho drawing of a mauKsoript box with a memorandum in my uncle’s handwriting, “Design of deed box, to be executed by Green. June, ISTS.” Now this was the year that he told me of his having made a will in my favour; we therefore decided on my making inquiries of Green the next day. Directly after breakfast tho next morning I rode into Fuirtown and hunted him np. He said ho recollected the circumstance of my uncle’s bringing him the sketch perfectly well; at the same time gave him instructions to make a box by it, with an inner one. They each had one of Chubb’s patent looks, and he specially impressed on Green the necessity of their being made unusually strong and air-tight; indeed, they were returned once, because after testing them in water, my uncle had found a little damp ou some parchment he had put in the inner one. This convinced us that tho will had been put in the ease, but wo were as far as over from knowing where to look for it; so after another fruitless search, I decided that tho only thing to bo done was to accept the loss and face my altered position at once. I resolved to go to London immediately and commence my legal studies, my great aim being to make a position as soon as possible ; my marriage of course must be postponed, but I was determined it should not be deferred a single day from any fault of mine.

(To be concluded hi our next.)