and, I have no doubt, well-deserved reports."
Francis entreated him to be more specific.
"You cannot picture my
uneasiness as to these conditions," he said.
"They are two," replied the
lawyer, "only two; and the sum, as you
will remember, is five hundred a-year - and unburdened, I forgot to
add, unburdened."
And the
lawyer raised his eyebrows at him with
solemn gusto.
"The first," he resumed, "is of
remarkablesimplicity. You must be
in Paris by the afternoon of Sunday, the 15th; there you will find,
at the box-office of the Comedie Francaise, a ticket for admission
taken in your name and
waiting you. You are requested to sit out
the whole
performance in the seat provided, and that is all."
"I should certainly have preferred a week-day," replied Francis. "
But, after all, once in a way - "
"And in Paris, my dear sir," added the
lawyer soothingly. "I
believe I am something of a precisian myself, but upon such a
consideration, and in Paris, I should not
hesitate an instant."
And the pair laughed
pleasantly together.
"The other is of more importance," continued the Writer to the
Signet. "It regards your marriage. My
client,
taking a deep
interest in your
welfare, desires to
advise you
absolutely in the
choice of a wife. Absolutely, you understand," he repeated.
"Let us be more explicit, if you please," returned Francis. "Am I
to marry any one, maid or widow, black or white, whom this
invisible person chooses to propose?"
"I was to assure you that suitability of age and position should be
a principle with your benefactor," replied the
lawyer. "As to
race, I
confess the difficulty had not occurred to me, and I failed
to inquire; but if you like I will make a note of it at once, and
advise you on the earliest opportunity."
"Sir," said Francis, "it remains to be seen whether this whole
affair is not a most
unworthy fraud. The circumstances are
inexplicable - I had almost said
incredible; and until I see a
little more
daylight, and some plausible
motive, I
confess I should
be very sorry to put a hand to the transaction. I
appeal to you in
this difficulty for information. I must learn what is at the
bottom of it all. If you do not know, cannot guess, or are not at
liberty to tell me, I shall take my hat and go back to my bank as
came."
"I do not know," answered the
lawyer, "but I have an excellent
guess. Your father, and no one else, is at the root of this
apparently
unnatural business."
"My father!" cried Francis, in
extremedisdain. "Worthy man, I
know every thought of his mind, every penny of his fortune!"
"You misinterpret my words," said the
lawyer. "I do not refer to
Mr. Scrymgeour,
senior; for he is not your father. When he and his
wife came to Edinburgh, you were already nearly one year old, and
you had not yet been three months in their care. The secret has
been well kept; but such is the fact. Your father is unknown, and
I say again that I believe him to be the original of the offers I
am charged at present to
transmit to you."
It would be impossible to
exaggerate the
astonishment of Francis
Scrymgeour at this
unexpected information. He pled this confusion
to the
lawyer.
"Sir," said he, "after a piece of news so
startling, you must grant
me some hours for thought. You shall know this evening what
conclusion I have reached."
The
lawyer commended his
prudence; and Francis, excusing himself
upon some pretext at the bank, took a long walk into the country,
and fully considered the different steps and aspects of the case.
A pleasant sense of his own importance rendered him the more
deliberate: but the issue was from the first not
doubtful. His
whole carnal man leaned irresistibly towards the five hundred a
year, and the strange conditions with which it was burdened; he
discovered in his heart an invincible repugnance to the name of
Scrymgeour, which he had never
hitherto disliked; he began to
despise the narrow and unromantic interests of his former life; and
when once his mind was fairly made up, he walked with a new feeling
of strength and freedom, and nourished himself with the gayest
anticipations.
He said but a word to the
lawyer, and immediately received a cheque
for two quarters' arrears; for the
allowance was ante-dated from
the first of January. With this in his pocket, he walked home.
The flat in Scotland Street looked mean in his eyes; his nostrils,
for the first time, rebelled against the odour of broth; and he
observed little defects of manner in his adoptive father which
filled him with surprise and almost with
disgust. The next day, he
determined, should see him on his way to Paris.
In that city, where he arrived long before the appointed date, he
put up at a
modest hotel frequented by English and Italians, and
devoted himself to
improvement in the French tongue; for this
purpose he had a master twice a week, entered into conversation
with loiterers in the Champs Elysees, and
nightly frequented the
theatre. He had his whole toilette fashionably renewed; and was
shaved and had his hair dressed every morning by a
barber in a
neighbouring street. This gave him something of a foreign air, and
seemed to wipe off the
reproach of his past years.
At length, on the Saturday afternoon, he betook himself to the box-
office of the theatre in the Rue Richelieu. No sooner had he
mentioned his name than the clerk produced the order in an envelope
of which the address was scarcely dry.
"It has been taken this moment," said the clerk.
"Indeed!" said Francis. "May I ask what the gentleman was like?"
"Your friend is easy to describe," replied the official. "He is
old and strong and beautiful, with white hair and a sabre-cut
across his face. You cannot fail to recognise so marked a person."
"No, indeed," returned Francis; "and I thank you for your
politeness."
"He cannot yet be far distant," added the clerk. "If you make
haste you might still
overtake him."
Francis did not wait to be twice told; he ran precipitately from
the theatre into the middle of the street and looked in all
directions. More than one white-haired man was within sight; but
though he
overtook each of them in
succession, all wanted the
sabre-cut. For nearly half-an-hour he tried one street after
another in the neighbourhood, until at length, recognising the
folly of continued search, he started on a walk to
compose his
agitated feelings; for this proximity of an
encounter with him to
whom he could not doubt he owed the day had
profoundly moved the
young man.
It chanced that his way lay up the Rue Drouot and
thence up the Rue
des Martyrs; and chance, in this case, served him better than all
the forethought in the world. For on the outer
boulevard he saw
two men in
earnest colloquy upon a seat. One was dark, young, and
handsome, secularly dressed, but with an indelible
clerical stamp;
the other answered in every particular to the
description given him
by the clerk. Francis felt his heart beat high in his bosom; he
knew he was now about to hear the voice of his father; and making a
wide
circuit, he
noiselessly took his place behind the couple in
question, who were too much interested in their talk to observe
much else. As Francis had expected, the conversation was conducted
in the English language
"Your suspicions begin to annoy me, Rolles," said the older man.
"I tell you I am doing my
utmost; a man cannot lay his hand on
millions in a moment. Have I not taken you up, a mere stranger,
out of pure good-will? Are you not living largely on my bounty?"
"On your advances, Mr. Vandeleur," corrected the other.
"Advances, if you choose; and interest instead of
goodwill, if you
prefer it," returned Vandeleur
angrily. "I am not here to pick
expressions. Business is business; and your business, let me