BOOK I: THE WILL OF ROGER MELTON

by Bram Stoker

　　The Reading of the Will of Roger Melton and all that FollowedRecord made by Ernest Roger Halbard Melton, law-student of the InnerTemple, eldest son of Ernest Halbard Melton, eldest son of Ernest Melton,elder brother of the said Roger Melton and his next of kin.I consider it at least useful--perhaps necessary--to have a complete andaccurate record of all pertaining to the Will of my late grand-uncleRoger Melton.To which end let me put down the various members of his family, andexplain some of their occupations and idiosyncrasies. My father, ErnestHalbard Melton, was the only son of Ernest Melton, eldest son of SirGeoffrey Halbard Melton of Humcroft, in the shire of Salop, a Justice ofthe Peace, and at one time Sheriff. My great-grandfather, Sir Geoffrey,had inherited a small estate from his father, Roger Melton. In his time,by the way, the name was spelled Milton; but my great-great-grandfatherchanged the spelling to the later form, as he was a practical man notgiven to sentiment, and feared lest he should in the public eye beconfused with others belonging to the family of a Radical person calledMilton, who wrote poetry and was some sort of official in the time ofCromwell, whilst we are Conservatives. The same practical spirit whichoriginated the change in the spelling of the family name inclined him togo into business. So he became, whilst still young, a tanner andleather-dresser. He utilized for the purpose the ponds and streams, andalso the oak-woods on his estate--Torraby in Suffolk. He made a finebusiness, and accumulated a considerable fortune, with a part of which hepurchased the Shropshire estate, which he entailed, and to which I amtherefore heir-apparent.Sir Geoffrey had, in addition to my grandfather, three sons and adaughter, the latter being born twenty years after her youngest brother.These sons were: Geoffrey, who died without issue, having been killed inthe Indian Mutiny at Meerut in 1857, at which he took up a sword, thougha civilian, to fight for his life; Roger (to whom I shall referpresently); and John--the latter, like Geoffrey, dying unmarried. Out ofSir Geoffrey's family of five, therefore, only three have to beconsidered: My grandfather, who had three children, two of whom, a sonand a daughter, died young, leaving only my father, Roger and Patience.Patience, who was born in 1858, married an Irishman of the name ofSellenger--which was the usual way of pronouncing the name of St. Leger,or, as they spelled it, Sent Leger--restored by later generations to thestill older form. He was a reckless, dare-devil sort of fellow, then aCaptain in the Lancers, a man not without the quality of bravery--he wonthe Victoria Cross at the Battle of Amoaful in the Ashantee Campaign.But I fear he lacked the seriousness and steadfast strenuous purposewhich my father always says marks the character of our own family. Heran through nearly all of his patrimony--never a very large one; and hadit not been for my grand-aunt's little fortune, his days, had he lived,must have ended in comparative poverty. Comparative, not actual; for theMeltons, who are persons of considerable pride, would not have tolerateda poverty-stricken branch of the family. We don't think much of thatlot--any of us.Fortunately, my great-aunt Patience had only one child, and the prematuredecease of Captain St. Leger (as I prefer to call the name) did not allowof the possibility of her having more. She did not marry again, thoughmy grandmother tried several times to arrange an alliance for her. Shewas, I am told, always a stiff, uppish person, who would not yieldherself to the wisdom of her superiors. Her own child was a son, whoseemed to take his character rather from his father's family than from myown. He was a wastrel and a rolling stone, always in scrapes at school,and always wanting to do ridiculous things. My father, as Head of theHouse and his own senior by eighteen years, tried often to admonish him;but his perversity of spirit and his truculence were such that he had todesist. Indeed, I have heard my father say that he sometimes threatenedhis life. A desperate character he was, and almost devoid of reverence.No one, not even my father, had any influence--good influence, of course,I mean--over him, except his mother, who was of my family; and also awoman who lived with her--a sort of governess--aunt, he called her. Theway of it was this: Captain St. Leger had a younger brother, who made animprovident marriage with a Scotch girl when they were both very young.They had nothing to live on except what the reckless Lancer gave them,for he had next to nothing himself, and she was "bare"--which is, Iunderstand, the indelicate Scottish way of expressing lack of fortune.She was, however, I understand, of an old and somewhat good family,though broken in fortune--to use an expression which, however, couldhardly be used precisely in regard to a family or a person who never hadfortune to be broken in! It was so far well that the MacKelpies--thatwas the maiden name of Mrs. St. Leger--were reputable--so far as fightingwas concerned. It would have been too humiliating to have allied to ourfamily, even on the distaff side, a family both poor and of no account.Fighting alone does not make a family, I think. Soldiers are noteverything, though they think they are. We have had in our family menwho fought; but I never heard of any of them who fought because theywanted to. Mrs. St. Leger had a sister; fortunately there were onlythose two children in the family, or else they would all have had to besupported by the money of my family.Mr. St. Leger, who was only a subaltern, was killed at Maiwand; and hiswife was left a beggar. Fortunately, however, she died--her sisterspread a story that it was from the shock and grief--before the childwhich she expected was born. This all happened when my cousin--or,rather, my father's cousin, my first-cousin-once-removed, to beaccurate--was still a very small child. His mother then sent for MissMacKelpie, her brother-in-law's sister-in-law, to come and live with her,which she did--beggars can't be choosers; and she helped to bring upyoung St. Leger.I remember once my father giving me a sovereign for making a witty remarkabout her. I was quite a boy then, not more than thirteen; but ourfamily were always clever from the very beginning of life, and father wastelling me about the St. Leger family. My family hadn't, of course, seenanything of them since Captain St. Leger died--the circle to which webelong don't care for poor relations--and was explaining where MissMacKelpie came in. She must have been a sort of nursery governess, forMrs. St. Leger once told him that she helped her to educate the child."Then, father," I said, "if she helped to educate the child she ought tohave been called Miss MacSkelpie!"When my first-cousin-once-removed, Rupert, was twelve years old, hismother died, and he was in the dolefuls about it for more than a year.Miss MacKelpie kept on living with him all the same. Catch her quitting!That sort don't go into the poor-house when they can keep out! Myfather, being Head of the Family, was, of course, one of the trustees,and his uncle Roger, brother of the testator, another. The third wasGeneral MacKelpie, a poverty-stricken Scotch laird who had a lot ofvalueless land at Croom, in Ross-shire. I remember father gave me a newten-pound note when I interrupted him whilst he was telling me of theincident of young St. Leger's improvidence by remarking that he was inerror as to the land. From what I had heard of MacKelpie's estate, itwas productive of one thing; when he asked me "What?" I answered"Mortgages!" Father, I knew, had bought, not long before, a lot of themat what a college friend of mine from Chicago used to call "cut-throat"price. When I remonstrated with my father for buying them at all, and soinjuring the family estate which I was to inherit, he gave me an answer,the astuteness of which I have never forgotten."I did it so that I might keep my hand on the bold General, in case heshould ever prove troublesome. And if the worst should ever come to theworst, Croom is a good country for grouse and stags!" My father can seeas far as most men!When my cousin--I shall call him cousin henceforth in this record, lestit might seem to any unkind person who might hereafter read it that Iwished to taunt Rupert St. Leger with his somewhat obscure position, inreiterating his real distance in kinship with my family--when my cousin,Rupert St. Leger, wished to commit a certain idiotic act of financialfolly, he approached my father on the subject, arriving at our estate,Humcroft, at an inconvenient time, without permission, not having hadeven the decent courtesy to say he was coming. I was then a little chapof six years old, but I could not help noticing his mean appearance. Hewas all dusty and dishevelled. When my father saw him--I came into thestudy with him--he said in a horrified voice:"Good God!" He was further shocked when the boy brusquely acknowledged,in reply to my father's greeting, that he had travelled third class. Ofcourse, none of my family ever go anything but first class; even theservants go second. My father was really angry when he said he hadwalked up from the station."A nice spectacle for my tenants and my tradesmen! To see my--my--akinsman of my house, howsoever remote, trudging like a tramp on the roadto my estate! Why, my avenue is two miles and a perch! No wonder youare filthy and insolent!" Rupert--really, I cannot call him cousinhere--was exceedingly impertinent to my father."I walked, sir, because I had no money; but I assure you I did not meanto be insolent. I simply came here because I wished to ask your adviceand assistance, not because you are an important person, and have a longavenue--as I know to my cost--but simply because you are one of mytrustees.""Your trustees, sirrah!" said my father, interrupting him. "Yourtrustees?""I beg your pardon, sir," he said, quite quietly. "I meant the trusteesof my dear mother's will.""And what, may I ask you," said father, "do you want in the way of advicefrom one of the trustees of your dear mother's will?" Rupert got veryred, and was going to say something rude--I knew it from his look--but hestopped, and said in the same gentle way:"I want your advice, sir, as to the best way of doing something which Iwish to do, and, as I am under age, cannot do myself. It must be donethrough the trustees of my mother's will.""And the assistance for which you wish?" said father, putting his hand inhis pocket. I know what that action means when I am talking to him."The assistance I want," said Rupert, getting redder than ever, "is frommy--the trustee also. To carry out what I want to do.""And what may that be?" asked my father. "I would like, sir, to makeover to my Aunt Janet--" My father interrupted him by asking--he hadevidently remembered my jest:"Miss MacSkelpie?" Rupert got still redder, and I turned away; I didn'tquite wish that he should see me laughing. He went on quietly:"MacKelpie, sir! Miss Janet MacKelpie, my aunt, who has always been sokind to me, and whom my mother loved--I want to have made over to her themoney which my dear mother left to me." Father doubtless wished to havethe matter take a less serious turn, for Rupert's eyes were all shinywith tears which had not fallen; so after a little pause he said, withindignation, which I knew was simulated:"Have you forgotten your mother so soon, Rupert, that you wish to giveaway the very last gift which she bestowed on you?" Rupert was sitting,but he jumped up and stood opposite my father with his fist clenched. Hewas quite pale now, and his eyes looked so fierce that I thought he woulddo my father an injury. He spoke in a voice which did not seem like hisown, it was so strong and deep."Sir!" he roared out. I suppose, if I was a writer, which, thank God, Iam not--I have no need to follow a menial occupation--I would call it"thundered." "Thundered" is a longer word than "roared," and would, ofcourse, help to gain the penny which a writer gets for a line. Fathergot pale too, and stood quite still. Rupert looked at him steadily forquite half a minute--it seemed longer at the time--and suddenly smiledand said, as he sat down again:"Sorry. But, of course, you don't understand such things." Then he wenton talking before father had time to say a word."Let us get back to business. As you do not seem to follow me, let meexplain that it is because I do not forget that I wish to do this. Iremember my dear mother's wish to make Aunt Janet happy, and would liketo do as she did.""Aunt Janet?" said father, very properly sneering at his ignorance."She is not your aunt. Why, even her sister, who was married to youruncle, was only your aunt by courtesy." I could not help feeling thatRupert meant to be rude to my father, though his words were quite polite.If I had been as much bigger than him as he was than me, I should haveflown at him; but he was a very big boy for his age. I am myself ratherthin. Mother says thinness is an "appanage of birth.""My Aunt Janet, sir, is an aunt by love. Courtesy is a small word to usein connection with such devotion as she has given to us. But I needn'ttrouble you with such things, sir. I take it that my relations on theside of my own house do not affect you. I am a Sent Leger!" Fatherlooked quite taken aback. He sat quite still before he spoke."Well, Mr. St. Leger, I shall think over the matter for a while, andshall presently let you know my decision. In the meantime, would youlike something to eat? I take it that as you must have started veryearly, you have not had any breakfast?" Rupert smiled quite genially:"That is true, sir. I haven't broken bread since dinner last night, andI am ravenously hungry." Father rang the bell, and told the footman whoanswered it to send the housekeeper. When she came, father said to her:"Mrs. Martindale, take this boy to your room and give him somebreakfast." Rupert stood very still for some seconds. His face had gotred again after his paleness. Then he bowed to my father, and followedMrs. Martindale, who had moved to the door.Nearly an hour afterwards my father sent a servant to tell him to come tothe study. My mother was there, too, and I had gone back with her. Theman came back and said:"Mrs. Martindale, sir, wishes to know, with her respectful service, ifshe may have a word with you." Before father could reply mother told himto bring her. The housekeeper could not have been far off--that kind aregenerally near a keyhole--for she came at once. When she came in, shestood at the door curtseying and looking pale. Father said:"Well?""I thought, sir and ma'am, that I had better come and tell you aboutMaster Sent Leger. I would have come at once, but I feared to disturbyou.""Well?" Father had a stern way with servants. When I'm head of thefamily I'll tread them under my feet. That's the way to get realdevotion from servants!"If you please, sir, I took the young gentleman into my room and ordereda nice breakfast for him, for I could see he was half famished--a growingboy like him, and so tall! Presently it came along. It was a goodbreakfast, too! The very smell of it made even me hungry. There wereeggs and frizzled ham, and grilled kidneys, and coffee, and butteredtoast, and bloater-paste--""That will do as to the menu," said mother. "Go on!""When it was all ready, and the maid had gone, I put a chair to the tableand said, 'Now, sir, your breakfast is ready!' He stood up and said,'Thank you, madam; you are very kind!' and he bowed to me quite nicely,just as if I was a lady, ma'am!""Go on," said mother."Then, sir, he held out his hand and said, 'Good-bye, and thank you,' andhe took up his cap."'But aren't you going to have any breakfast, sir?' I says."'No, thank you, madam,' he said; 'I couldn't eat here . . . in thishouse, I mean!' Well, ma'am, he looked so lonely that I felt my heartmelting, and I ventured to ask him if there was any mortal thing I coulddo for him. 'Do tell me, dear,' I ventured to say. 'I am an old woman,and you, sir, are only a boy, though it's a fine man you will be--likeyour dear, splendid father, which I remember so well, and gentle likeyour poor dear mother.'"'You're a dear!' he says; and with that I took up his hand and kissedit, for I remember his poor dear mother so well, that was dead only ayear. Well, with that he turned his head away, and when I took him bythe shoulders and turned him round--he is only a young boy, ma'am, forall he is so big--I saw that the tears were rolling down his cheeks.With that I laid his head on my breast--I've had children of my own,ma'am, as you know, though they're all gone. He came willing enough, andsobbed for a little bit. Then he straightened himself up, and I stoodrespectfully beside him."'Tell Mr. Melton,' he said, 'that I shall not trouble him about thetrustee business.'"'But won't you tell him yourself, sir, when you see him?' I says."'I shall not see him again,' he says; 'I am going back now!'"Well, ma'am, I knew he'd had no breakfast, though he was hungry, andthat he would walk as he come, so I ventured to say: 'If you won't takeit a liberty, sir, may I do anything to make your going easier? Have yousufficient money, sir? If not, may I give, or lend, you some? I shallbe very proud if you will allow me to.'"'Yes,' he says quite hearty. 'If you will, you might lend me ashilling, as I have no money. I shall not forget it.' He said, as hetook the coin: 'I shall return the amount, though I never can thekindness. I shall keep the coin.' He took the shilling, sir--hewouldn't take any more--and then he said good-bye. At the door he turnedand walked back to me, and put his arms round me like a real boy does,and gave me a hug, and says he:"'Thank you a thousand times, Mrs. Martindale, for your goodness to me,for your sympathy, and for the way you have spoken of my father andmother. You have seen me cry, Mrs. Martindale,' he said; 'I don't oftencry: the last time was when I came back to the lonely house after my poordear was laid to rest. But you nor any other shall ever see a tear ofmine again.' And with that he straightened out his big back and held uphis fine proud head, and walked out. I saw him from the window stridingdown the avenue. My! but he is a proud boy, sir--an honour to yourfamily, sir, say I respectfully. And there, the proud child has goneaway hungry, and he won't, I know, ever use that shilling to buy food!"Father was not going to have that, you know, so he said to her:"He does not belong to my family, I would have you to know. True, he isallied to us through the female side; but we do not count him or his inmy family." He turned away and began to read a book. It was a decidedsnub to her.But mother had a word to say before Mrs. Martindale was done with.Mother has a pride of her own, and doesn't brook insolence frominferiors; and the housekeeper's conduct seemed to be rather presuming.Mother, of course, isn't quite our class, though her folk are quiteworthy and enormously rich. She is one of the Dalmallingtons, the saltpeople, one of whom got a peerage when the Conservatives went out. Shesaid to the housekeeper:"I think, Mrs. Martindale, that I shall not require your services afterthis day month! And as I don't keep servants in my employment when Idismiss them, here is your month's wages due on the 25th of this month,and another month in lieu of notice. Sign this receipt." She waswriting a receipt as she spoke. The other signed it without a word, andhanded it to her. She seemed quite flabbergasted. Mother got up andsailed--that is the way that mother moves when she is in a wax--out ofthe room.Lest I should forget it, let me say here that the dismissed housekeeperwas engaged the very next day by the Countess of Salop. I may say inexplanation that the Earl of Salop, K.G., who is Lord-Lieutenant of theCounty, is jealous of father's position and his growing influence.Father is going to contest the next election on the Conservative side,and is sure to be made a Baronet before long.Letter from Major-General Sir Colin Alexander MacKelpie, V.C.K.C.B. of Croom, Ross, N.B. to Rupert Sent Leger, Esq. 14,Newland Park, Dulwich, London, S.E.July 4, 1892.MY DEAR GODSON,I am truly sorry I am unable to agree with your request that I shouldacquiesce in your desire to transfer to Miss Janet MacKelpie theproperty bequeathed to you by your mother, of which property I am atrustee. Let me say at once that, had it been possible to me to doso, I should have held it a privilege to further such a wish--notbecause the beneficiare whom you would create is a near kinswoman ofmy own. That, in truth, is my real difficulty. I have undertaken atrust made by an honourable lady on behalf of her only son--son of aman of stainless honour, and a dear friend of my own, and whose sonhas a rich heritage of honour from both parents, and who will, I amsure, like to look back on his whole life as worthy of his parents,and of those whom his parents trusted. You will see, I am sure, thatwhatsoever I might grant regarding anyone else, my hands are tied inthis matter.And now let me say, my dear boy, that your letter has given me themost intense pleasure. It is an unspeakable delight to me to find inthe son of your father--a man whom I loved, and a boy whom Ilove--the same generosity of spirit which endeared your father to allhis comrades, old as well as young. Come what may, I shall always beproud of you; and if the sword of an old soldier--it is all Ihave--can ever serve you in any way, it and its master's life are,and shall be, whilst life remains to him, yours.It grieves me to think that Janet cannot, through my act, be giventhat ease and tranquillity of spirit which come from competence.But, my dear Rupert, you will be of full age in seven years more.Then, if you are in the same mind--and I am sure you will notchange--you, being your own master, can do freely as you will. Inthe meantime, to secure, so far as I can, my dear Janet against anymalign stroke of fortune, I have given orders to my factor to remitsemi-annually to Janet one full half of such income as may be derivedin any form from my estate of Croom. It is, I am sorry to say,heavily mortgaged; but of such as is--or may be, free from suchcharge as the mortgage entails--something at least will, I trust,remain to her. And, my dear boy, I can frankly say that it is to mea real pleasure that you and I can be linked in one more bond in thisassociation of purpose. I have always held you in my heart as thoughyou were my own son. Let me tell you now that you have acted as Ishould have liked a son of my own, had I been blessed with one, tohave acted. God bless you, my dear.Yours ever,COLIN ALEX. MACKELPIE.Letter from Roger Melton, of Openshaw Grange, to Rupert Sent Leger,Esq. 14, Newland Park, Dulwich, London, S.E.July 1, 1892.MY DEAR NEPHEW,Your letter of the 30th ult. received. Have carefully consideredmatter stated, and have come to the conclusion that my duty as atrustee would not allow me to give full consent, as you wish. Let meexplain. The testator, in making her will, intended that suchfortune as she had at disposal should be used to supply to you herson such benefits as its annual product should procure. To this end,and to provide against wastefulness or foolishness on your part, or,indeed, against any generosity, howsoever worthy, which mightimpoverish you and so defeat her benevolent intentions regarding youreducation, comfort, and future good, she did not place the estatedirectly in your hands, leaving you to do as you might feel inclinedabout it. But, on the contrary, she entrusted the corpus of it inthe hands of men whom she believed should be resolute enough andstrong enough to carry out her intent, even against any cajolementsor pressure which might be employed to the contrary. It being herintention, then, that such trustees as she appointed would use foryour benefit the interest accruing annually from the capital atcommand, and that only (as specifically directed in the will), sothat on your arriving at full age the capital entrusted to us shouldbe handed over to you intact, I find a hard-and-fast duty in thematter of adhering exactly to the directions given. I have no doubtthat my co-trustees regard the matter in exactly the same light.Under the circumstances, therefore, we, the trustees, have not only asingle and united duty towards you as the object of the testator'swishes, but towards each other as regards the manner of the carryingout of that duty. I take it, therefore, that it would not beconsonant with the spirit of the trust or of our own ideas inaccepting it that any of us should take a course pleasant to himselfwhich would or might involve a stern opposition on the part of otherof the co-trustees. We have each of us to do the unpleasant part ofthis duty without fear or favour. You understand, of course, thatthe time which must elapse before you come into absolute possessionof your estate is a limited one. As by the terms of the will we areto hand over our trust when you have reached the age of twenty-one,there are only seven years to expire. But till then, though I shouldgladly meet your wishes if I could, I must adhere to the duty which Ihave undertaken. At the expiration of that period you will be quitefree to divest yourself of your estate without protest or comment ofany man.Having now expressed as clearly as I can the limitations by which Iam bound with regard to the corpus of your estate, let me say that inany other way which is in my power or discretion I shall be mosthappy to see your wishes carried out so far as rests with me.Indeed, I shall undertake to use what influence I may possess with myco-trustees to induce them to take a similar view of your wishes. Inmy own thinking you are quite free to use your own property in yourown way. But as, until you shall have attained your majority, youhave only life-user in your mother's bequest, you are only at libertyto deal with the annual increment. On our part as trustees we have afirst charge on that increment to be used for purposes of yourmaintenance, clothes, and education. As to what may remain over eachhalf-year, you will be free to deal with it as you choose. Onreceiving from you a written authorization to your trustees, if youdesire the whole sum or any part of it to be paid over to Miss JanetMacKelpie, I shall see that it is effected. Believe me, that ourduty is to protect the corpus of the estate, and to this end we maynot act on any instruction to imperil it. But there our warrantystops. We can deal during our trusteeship with the corpus only.Further, lest there should arise any error on your part, we can dealwith any general instruction for only so long as it may remainunrevoked. You are, and must be, free to alter your instructions orauthorizations at any time. Thus your latest document must be usedfor our guidance.As to the general principle involved in your wish I make no comment.You are at liberty to deal with your own how you will. I quiteunderstand that your impulse is a generous one, and I fully believethat it is in consonance with what had always been the wishes of mysister. Had she been happily alive and had to give judgment of yourintent, I am convinced that she would have approved. Therefore, mydear nephew, should you so wish, I shall be happy for her sake aswell as your own to pay over on your account (as a confidentialmatter between you and me), but from my own pocket, a sum equal tothat which you wish transferred to Miss Janet MacKelpie. On hearingfrom you I shall know how to act in the matter. With all goodwishes,Believe me to be,Your affectionate uncle,ROGER MELTON.TO RUPERT SENT LEGER, ESQ.Letter from Rupert Sent Leger to Roger Melton,July 5, 1892.MY DEAR UNCLE,Thank you heartily for your kind letter. I quite understand, and nowsee that I should not have asked you as a trustee, such a thing. Isee your duty clearly, and agree with your view of it. I enclose aletter directed to my trustees, asking them to pay over annually tillfurther direction to Miss Janet MacKelpie at this address whateversum may remain over from the interest of my mother's bequest afterdeduction of such expenses as you may deem fit for my maintenance,clothing, and education, together with a sum of one pound sterlingper month, which was the amount my dear mother always gave me for mypersonal use--"pocket-money," she called it.With regard to your most kind and generous offer to give to my dearAunt Janet the sum which I would have given myself, had such been inmy power, I thank you most truly and sincerely, both for my dear aunt(to whom, of course, I shall not mention the matter unless youspecially authorize me) and myself. But, indeed, I think it will bebetter not to offer it. Aunt Janet is very proud, and would notaccept any benefit. With me, of course, it is different, for since Iwas a wee child she has been like another mother to me, and I loveher very much. Since my mother died--and she, of course, wasall-in-all to me--there has been no other. And in such a love asours pride has no place. Thank you again, dear uncle, and God blessyou.Your loving nephew,RUPERT SENT LEGER.ERNEST ROGER HALBARD MELTON'S RECORD--Continued.And now re the remaining one of Sir Geoffrey's children, Roger. He wasthe third child and third son, the only daughter, Patience, having beenborn twenty years after the last of the four sons. Concerning Roger, Ishall put down all I have heard of him from my father and grandfather.From my grand-aunt I heard nothing, I was a very small kid when she died;but I remember seeing her, but only once. A very tall, handsome woman ofa little over thirty, with very dark hair and light-coloured eyes. Ithink they were either grey or blue, but I can't remember which. Shelooked very proud and haughty, but I am bound to say that she was verynice to me. I remember feeling very jealous of Rupert because his motherlooked so distinguished. Rupert was eight years older than me, and I wasafraid he would beat me if I said anything he did not like. So I wassilent except when I forgot to be, and Rupert said very unkindly, and Ithink very unfairly, that I was "A sulky little beast." I haven't forgotthat, and I don't mean to. However, it doesn't matter much what he saidor thought. There he is--if he is at all--where no one can find him,with no money or nothing, for what little he had he settled when he cameof age, on the MacSkelpie. He wanted to give it to her when his motherdied, but father, who was a trustee, refused; and Uncle Roger, as I callhim, who is another, thought the trustees had no power to allow Rupert tothrow away his matrimony, as I called it, making a joke to father when hecalled it patrimony. Old Sir Colin MacSkelpie, who is the third, said hecouldn't take any part in such a permission, as the MacSkelpie was hisniece. He is a rude old man, that. I remember when, not remembering hisrelationship, I spoke of the MacSkelpie, he caught me a clip on the earthat sent me across the room. His Scotch is very broad. I can hear himsay, "Hae some attempt at even Soothern manners, and dinna misca' yerbetters, ye young puddock, or I'll wring yer snoot!" Father was, I couldsee, very much offended, but he didn't say anything. He remembered, Ithink, that the General is a V.C. man, and was fond of fighting duels.But to show that the fault was not his, he wrung my ear--and the sameear too! I suppose he thought that was justice! But it's only right tosay that he made up for it afterwards. When the General had gone he gaveme a five-pound note.I don't think Uncle Roger was very pleased with the way Rupert behavedabout the legacy, for I don't think he ever saw him from that day tothis. Perhaps, of course, it was because Rupert ran away shortlyafterwards; but I shall tell about that when I come to him. After all,why should my uncle bother about him? He is not a Melton at all, and Iam to be Head of the House--of course, when the Lord thinks right to takefather to Himself! Uncle Roger has tons of money, and he never married,so if he wants to leave it in the right direction he needn't have anytrouble. He made his money in what he calls "the Eastern Trade." This,so far as I can gather, takes in the Levant and all east of it. I knowhe has what they call in trade "houses" in all sorts of places--Turkey,and Greece, and all round them, Morocco, Egypt, and Southern Russia, andthe Holy Land; then on to Persia, India, and all round it; theChersonese, China, Japan, and the Pacific Islands. It is not to beexpected that we landowners can know much about trade, but my unclecovers--or alas! I must say "covered"--a lot of ground, I can tell you.Uncle Roger was a very grim sort of man, and only that I was brought upto try and be kind to him I shouldn't ever have dared to speak to him.But when was a child father and mother--especially mother--forced me togo and see him and be affectionate to him. He wasn't ever even civil tome, that I can remember--grumpy old bear! But, then, he never saw Rupertat all, so that I take it Master R--- is out of the running altogetherfor testamentary honours. The last time I saw him myself he wasdistinctly rude. He treated me as a boy, though I was getting on foreighteen years of age. I came into his office without knocking; andwithout looking up from his desk, where he was writing, he said: "Getout! Why do you venture to disturb me when I'm busy? Get out, and bedamned to you!" I waited where I was, ready to transfix him with my eyewhen he should look up, for I cannot forget that when my father dies Ishall be Head of my House. But when he did there was no transfixingpossible. He said quite coolly:"Oh, it's you, is it? I thought it was one of my office boys. Sit down,if you want to see me, and wait till I am ready." So I sat down andwaited. Father always said that I should try to conciliate and please myuncle. Father is a very shrewd man, and Uncle Roger is a very rich one.But I don't think Uncle R--- is as shrewd as he thinks he is. Hesometimes makes awful mistakes in business. For instance, some years agohe bought an enormous estate on the Adriatic, in the country they callthe "Land of Blue Mountains." At least, he says he bought it. He toldfather so in confidence. But he didn't show any title-deeds, and I'mgreatly afraid he was "had." A bad job for me that he was, for fatherbelieves he paid an enormous sum for it, and as I am his natural heir, itreduces his available estate to so much less.And now about Rupert. As I have said, he ran away when he was aboutfourteen, and we did not hear about him for years. When we--or, rather,my father--did hear of him, it was no good that he heard. He had gone asa cabin-boy on a sailing ship round the Horn. Then he joined anexploring party through the centre of Patagonia, and then another up inAlaska, and a third to the Aleutian Islands. After that he went throughCentral America, and then to Western Africa, the Pacific Islands, India,and a lot of places. We all know the wisdom of the adage that "A rollingstone gathers no moss"; and certainly, if there be any value in moss,Cousin Rupert will die a poor man. Indeed, nothing will stand hisidiotic, boastful wastefulness. Look at the way in which, when he cameof age, he made over all his mother's little fortune to the MacSkelpie! Iam sure that, though Uncle Roger made no comment to my father, who, asHead of our House, should, of course, have been informed, he was notpleased. My mother, who has a good fortune in her own right, and has hadthe sense to keep it in her own control--as I am to inherit it, and it isnot in the entail, I am therefore quite impartial--I can approve of herspirited conduct in the matter. We never did think much of Rupert,anyhow; but now, since he is in the way to be a pauper, and therefore adangerous nuisance, we look on him as quite an outsider. We know what hereally is. For my own part, I loathe and despise him. Just now we areirritated with him, for we are all kept on tenterhooks regarding my dearUncle Roger's Will. For Mr. Trent, the attorney who regulated my dearuncle's affairs and has possession of the Will, says it is necessary toknow where every possible beneficiary is to be found before making theWill public, so we all have to wait. It is especially hard on me, who amthe natural heir. It is very thoughtless indeed of Rupert to keep awaylike that. I wrote to old MacSkelpie about it, but he didn't seem tounderstand or to be at all anxious--he is not the heir! He said thatprobably Rupert Sent Leger--he, too, keeps to the old spelling--did notknow of his uncle's death, or he would have taken steps to relieve ouranxiety. Our anxiety, forsooth! We are not anxious; we only wish toknow. And if we--and especially me--who have all the annoyance ofthinking of the detestable and unfair death-duties, are anxious, weshould be so. Well, anyhow, he'll get a properly bitter disappointmentand set down when he does turn up and discovers that he is a pauperwithout hope!* * * * *To-day we (father and I) had letters from Mr. Trent, telling us that thewhereabouts of "Mr. Rupert Sent Leger" had been discovered, and that aletter disclosing the fact of poor Uncle Roger's death had been sent tohim. He was at Titicaca when last heard of. So goodness only knows whenhe may get the letter, which "asks him to come home at once, but onlygives to him such information about the Will as has already been given toevery member of the testator's family." And that is nil. I dare say weshall be kept waiting for months before we get hold of the estate whichis ours. It is too bad!Letter from Edward Bingham Trent to Ernest Roger Halbard Melton.176, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS,December 28, 1906.DEAR SIR,I am glad to be able to inform you that I have just heard by letterfrom Mr. Rupert St. Leger that he intended leaving Rio de Janeiro bythe S.S. Amazon, of the Royal Mail Company, on December 15. Hefurther stated that he would cable just before leaving Rio deJaneiro, to say on what day the ship was expected to arrive inLondon. As all the others possibly interested in the Will of thelate Roger Melton, and whose names are given to me in hisinstructions regarding the reading of the Will, have been advised,and have expressed their intention of being present at that event onbeing apprised of the time and place, I now beg to inform you that bycable message received the date scheduled for arrival at the Port ofLondon was January 1 prox. I therefore beg to notify you, subject topostponement due to the non-arrival of the Amazon, the reading ofthe Will of the late Roger Melton, Esq., will take place in my officeon Thursday, January 3 prox., at eleven o'clock a.m.I have the honour to be, sir,Yours faithfully,EDWARD BINGHAM TRENT.TO ERNEST ROGER HALBARD MELTON, ESQ.,HUMCROFT,SALOP.Cable: Rupert Sent Leger to Edward Bingham Trent.Amazon arrives London January 1. SENT LEGER.Telegram (per Lloyd's): Rupert Sent Leger to Edward Bingham Trent.THE LIZARD,December 31.Amazon arrives London to-morrow morning. All well.--LEGER.Telegram: Edward Bingham Trent to Ernest Roger Halbard Mellon.Rupert Sent Leger arrived. Reading Will takes place asarranged.--TRENT.ERNEST ROGER HALBARD MELTON'S RECORD.January 4, 1907.The reading of Uncle Roger's Will is over. Father got a duplicate of Mr.Trent's letter to me, and of the cable and two telegrams pasted into thisRecord. We both waited patiently till the third--that is, we did not sayanything. The only impatient member of our family was my mother. Shedid say things, and if old Trent had been here his ears would have beenred. She said what ridiculous nonsense it was delaying the reading ofthe Will, and keeping the Heir waiting for the arrival of an obscureperson who wasn't even a member of the family, inasmuch as he didn't bearthe name. I don't think it's quite respectful to one who is some day tobe Head of the House! I thought father was weakening in his patiencewhen he said: "True, my dear--true!" and got up and left the room. Sometime afterwards when I passed the library I heard him walking up anddown.Father and I went up to town on the afternoon of Wednesday, January 2.We stayed, of course, at Claridge's, where we always stay when we go totown. Mother wanted to come, too, but father thought it better not. Shewould not agree to stay at home till we both promised to send herseparate telegrams after the reading.At five minutes to eleven we entered Mr. Trent's office. Father wouldnot go a moment earlier, as he said it was bad form to seem eager at anytime, but most of all at the reading of a will. It was a rotten grind,for we had to be walking all over the neighbourhood for half an hourbefore it was time, not to be too early.When we went into the room we found there General Sir Colin MacKelpie anda big man, very bronzed, whom I took to be Rupert St. Leger--not a verycreditable connection to look at, I thought! He and old MacKelpie tookcare to be in time! Rather low, I thought it. Mr. St. Leger was readinga letter. He had evidently come in but lately, for though he seemed tobe eager about it, he was only at the first page, and I could see thatthere were many sheets. He did not look up when we came in, or till hehad finished the letter; and you may be sure that neither I nor my father(who, as Head of the House, should have had more respect from him) tookthe trouble to go to him. After all, he is a pauper and a wastrel, andhe has not the honour of bearing our Name. The General, however, cameforward and greeted us both cordially. He evidently had forgotten--orpretended to have--the discourteous way he once treated me, for he spoketo me quite in a friendly way--I thought more warmly than he did tofather. I was pleased to be spoken to so nicely, for, after all,whatever his manners may be, he is a distinguished man--has won the V.C.and a Baronetcy. He got the latter not long ago, after the Frontier Warin India. I was not, however, led away into cordiality myself. I hadnot forgotten his rudeness, and I thought that he might be sucking up tome. I knew that when I had my dear Uncle Roger's many millions I shouldbe a rather important person; and, of course, he knew it too. So I goteven with him for his former impudence. When he held out his hand I putone finger in it, and said, "How do?" He got very red and turned away.Father and he had ended by glaring at each other, so neither of us wassorry to be done with him. All the time Mr. St. Leger did not seem tosee or hear anything, but went on reading his letter. I thought the oldMacSkelpie was going to bring him into the matter between us, for as heturned away I heard him say something under his breath. It sounded like"Help!" but Mr. S--- did not hear. He certainly no notice of it.As the MacS--- and Mr. S--- sat quite silent, neither looking at us, andas father was sitting on the other side of the room with his chin in hishand, and as I wanted to show that I was indifferent to the two S's, Itook out this notebook, and went on with the Record, bringing it up tothis moment.THE RECORD--Continued.When I had finished writing I looked over at Rupert.When he saw us, he jumped up and went over to father and shook his handquite warmly. Father took him very coolly. Rupert, however, did notseem to see it, but came towards me heartily. I happened to be doingsomething else at the moment, and at first I did not see his hand; butjust as I was looking at it the clock struck eleven. Whilst it wasstriking Mr. Trent came into the room. Close behind him came his clerk,carrying a locked tin box. There were two other men also. He bowed tous all in turn, beginning with me. I was standing opposite the door; theothers were scattered about. Father sat still, but Sir Colin and Mr. St.Leger rose. Mr. Trent not did shake hands with any of us--not even me.Nothing but his respectful bow. That is the etiquette for an attorney, Iunderstand, on such formal occasions.He sat down at the end of the big table in the centre of the room, andasked us to sit round. Father, of course, as Head of the Family, tookthe seat at his right hand. Sir Colin and St. Leger went to the otherside, the former taking the seat next to the attorney. The Generalknows, of course, that a Baronet takes precedence at a ceremony. I maybe a Baronet some day myself, and have to know these things.The clerk took the key which his master handed to him, opened the tinbox, and took from it a bundle of papers tied with red tape. This heplaced before the attorney, and put the empty box behind him on thefloor. Then he and the other man sat at the far end of the table; thelatter took out a big notebook and several pencils, and put them beforehim. He was evidently a shorthand-writer. Mr. Trent removed the tapefrom the bundle of papers, which he placed a little distance in front ofhim. He took a sealed envelope from the top, broke the seal, opened theenvelope, and from it took a parchment, in the folds of which were somesealed envelopes, which he laid in a heap in front of the other paper.Then he unfolded the parchment, and laid it before him with the outsidepage up. He fixed his glasses, and said:"Gentlemen, the sealed envelope which you have seen me open is endorsed'My Last Will and Testament--ROGER MELTON, June, 1906.' Thisdocument"--holding it up--"is as follows:"'I Roger Melton of Openshaw Grange in the County of Dorset; ofnumber one hundred and twenty-three Berkeley Square London; and ofthe Castle of Vissarion in the Land of the Blue Mountains, being ofsound mind do make this my Last Will and Testament on this day Mondaythe eleventh day of the month of June in the year of Our Lord onethousand nine hundred and six at the office of my old friend andAttorney Edward Bingham Trent in number one hundred and seventy-sixLincoln's Inn Fields London hereby revoking all other wills that Imay have formerly made and giving this as my sole and last Willmaking dispositions of my property as follows:"'1. To my kinsman and nephew Ernest Halbard Melton Esquire, justiceof the Peace, Humcroft the County of Salop, for his sole use andbenefit the sum of twenty thousand pounds sterling free of all DutiesTaxes and charges whatever to be paid out of my Five per centum Bondsof the City of Montreal, Canada."'2. To my respected friend and colleague as co-trustee to the Willof my late sister Patience late widow of the late Captain Rupert SentLeger who predeceased her, Major-General Sir Colin AlexanderMacKelpie, Baronet, holder of the Victoria Cross, Knight Commander ofthe Order of the Bath, of Croom in the county of Ross Scotland a sumof Twenty thousand pounds sterling free of all Taxes and chargeswhatsoever; to be paid out of my Five per centum Bonds of the City ofToronto, Canada."'3. To Miss Janet MacKelpie presently residing at Croom in theCounty of Ross Scotland the sum of Twenty thousand pounds sterlingfree of all Duties Taxes and Charges whatsoever, to be paid out of myFive per centum Bonds of the London County Council."'4. To the various persons charities and Trustees named in theschedule attached to this Will and marked A. the various sumsmentioned therein, all free of Duties and Taxes and chargeswhatsoever.'"Here Mr. Trent read out the list here following, and announced for ourimmediate understanding of the situation the total amount as two hundredand fifty thousand pounds. Many of the beneficiaries were old friends,comrades, dependents, and servants, some of them being left quite largesums of money and specific objects, such as curios and pictures."'5. To my kinsman and nephew Ernest Roger Halbard Melton presentlyliving in the house of his father at Humcroft Salop the sum of Tenthousand pounds sterling."'6. To my old and valued friend Edward Bingham Trent of one hundredand seventy-six Lincoln's Inn Fields sum of Twenty thousand poundssterling free from all Duties Taxes and Charges whatsoever to be paidout of my Five per centum Bonds of the city of Manchester England."'7. To my dear nephew Rupert Sent Leger only son of my dear sisterPatience Melton by her marriage with Captain Rupert Sent Leger thesum of one thousand pounds sterling. I also bequeath to the saidRupert Sent Leger a further sum conditional upon his acceptance ofthe terms of a letter addressed to him marked B, and left in thecustody of the above Edward Bingham Trent and which letter is anintegral part of this my Will. In case of the non-acceptance of theconditions of such letter, I devise and bequeath the whole of thesums and properties reserved therein to the executors hereinappointed Colin Alexander MacKelpie and Edward Bingham Trent in trustto distribute the same in accordance with the terms of the letter inthe present custody of Edward Bingham Trent marked C, and nowdeposited sealed with my seal in the sealed envelope containing mylast Will to be kept in the custody of the said Edward Bingham Trentand which said letter C is also an integral part of my Will. And incase any doubt should arise as to my ultimate intention as to thedisposal of my property the above-mentioned Executors are to havefull power to arrange and dispose all such matters as may seem bestto them without further appeal. And if any beneficiary under thisWill shall challenge the same or any part of it, or dispute thevalidity thereof, he shall forfeit to the general estate the bequestmade herein to him, and any such bequest shall cease and be void toall intents and purposes whatsoever."'8. For proper compliance with laws and duties connected withtestamentary proceedings and to keep my secret trusts secret I directmy Executors to pay all Death, Estate, Settlement, Legacy,Succession, or other duties charges impositions and assessmentswhatever on the residue of my estate beyond the bequests alreadynamed, at the scale charged in the case of most distant relatives orstrangers in blood."'9. I hereby appoint as my Executors Major-General Sir ColinAlexander MacKelpie, Baronet, of Croom in the County of Ross, andEdward Bingham Trent Attorney at Law of one hundred and seventy-sixLincoln's Inn Fields London West Central with full power to exercisetheir discretion in any circumstance which may arise in the carryingout my wishes as expressed in this Will. As reward for theirservices in this capacity as Executors they are to receive each outof the general estate a sum of one hundred thousand pounds sterlingfree of all Duties and impositions whatsoever."12. The two Memoranda contained in the letters marked B and C areIntegral Parts of this my Last Will are ultimately at the Probate ofthe Will to be taken as Clauses 10 and 11 of it. The envelopes aremarked B and C on both envelope and contents and the contents of eachis headed thus: B to be read as Clause 10 of my Will and the other Cto be read as Clause 11 of my Will."13. Should either of the above-mentioned Executors die before thecompletion of the above year and a half from the date of the Readingof my Will or before the Conditions rehearsed in Letter C theremaining Executor shall have all and several the Rights and Dutiesentrusted by my Will to both. And if both Executors should die thenthe matter of interpretation and execution of all matters inconnection with this my Last Will shall rest with the Lord Chancellorof England for the time being or with whomsoever he may appoint forthe purpose."'This my Last Will is given by me on the first day of January in theyear of Our Lord one thousand nine hundred and seven."'ROGER MELTON."We Andrew Rossiter and John Colson here in the presence of eachother and of the Testator have seen the Testator Roger Melton signand seal this document. In witness thereof we hereby set our names"'ANDREW ROSSITER clerk of 9 Primrose Avenue London W.C."'JOHN COLSON caretaker of 176 Lincoln's Inn Fields and Verger of St.Tabitha's Church Clerkenwell London.'"When Mr. Trent had finished the reading he put all the papers together,and tied them up in a bundle again with the red tape. Holding the bundlein his hand, he stood up, saying as he did so:"That is all, gentlemen, unless any of you wish to ask me any questions;in which case I shall answer, of course, to the best of my power. Ishall ask you, Sir Colin, to remain with me, as we have to deal with somematters, or to arrange a time when we may meet to do so. And you also,Mr. Sent Leger, as there is this letter to submit to you. It isnecessary that you should open it in the presence of the executors, butthere is no necessity that anyone else should be present."The first to speak was my father. Of course, as a county gentleman ofposition and estate, who is sometimes asked to take the chair atSessions--of course, when there is not anyone with a title present--hefound himself under the duty of expressing himself first. Old MacKelpiehas superior rank; but this was a family affair, in which my father isHead of the House, whilst old MacKelpie is only an outsider brought intoit--and then only to the distaff side, by the wife of a younger brotherof the man who married into our family. Father spoke with the same lookon his face as when he asks important questions of witnesses at QuarterSessions."I should like some points elucidated." The attorney bowed (he gets his120 thou', any way, so he can afford to be oily--suave, I suppose hewould call it); so father looked at a slip of paper in his hand andasked:"How much is the amount of the whole estate?"The attorney answered quickly, and I thought rather rudely. He was redin the face, and didn't bow this time; I suppose a man of his classhasn't more than a very limited stock of manners:"That, sir, I am not at liberty to tell you. And I may say that I wouldnot if I could.""Is it a million?" said father again. He was angry this time, and evenredder than the old attorney. The attorney said in answer, very quietlythis time:"Ah, that's cross-examining. Let me say, sir, that no one can know thatuntil the accountants to be appointed for the purpose have examined theaffairs of the testator up to date."Mr. Rupert St. Leger, who was looking all this time angrier than even theattorney or my father--though at what he had to be angry about I can'timagine--struck his fist on the table and rose up as if to speak, but ashe caught sight of both old MacKelpie and the attorney he sat down again.Mem.--Those three seem to agree too well. I must keep a sharp eye onthem. I didn't think of this part any more at the time, for father askedanother question which interested me much:"May I ask why the other matters of the Will are not shown to us?" Theattorney wiped his spectacles carefully with a big silk bandannahandkerchief before he answered:"Simply because each of the two letters marked 'B' and 'C' is enclosedwith instructions regarding their opening and the keeping secret of theircontents. I shall call your attention to the fact that both envelopesare sealed, and that the testator and both witnesses have signed theirnames across the flap of each envelope. I shall read them. The lettermarked 'B,' directed to 'Rupert Sent Leger,' is thus endorsed:"'This letter is to be given to Rupert Sent Leger by the Trustees andis to be opened by him in their presence. He is to take such copy ormake such notes as he may wish and is then to hand the letter withenvelope to the Executors who are at once to read it, each of thembeing entitled to make copy or notes if desirous of so doing. Theletter is then to be replaced in its envelope and letter and envelopeare to be placed in another envelope to be endorsed on outside as toits contents and to be signed across the flap by both the Executorsand by the said Rupert Sent Leger."'(Signed) ROGER MELTON 1/6/'06."The letter marked 'C,' directed to 'Edward Bingham Trent,' is thusendorsed:"'This letter directed to Edward Bingham Trent is to be kept by himunopened for a term of two years after the reading of my Last Willunless said period is earlier terminated by either the acceptance orrefusal of Rupert Sent Leger to accept the conditions mentioned in myletter to him marked 'B' which he is to receive and read in thepresence of my Executors at the same meeting as but subsequent to theReading of the clauses (except those to be ultimately numbers ten andeleven) of my Last Will. This letter contains instructions as towhat both the Executors and the said Rupert Sent Leger are to do whensuch acceptance or refusal of the said Rupert Sent Leger has beenmade known, or if he omit or refuse to make any such acceptance orrefusal, at the end of two years next after my decease."'(Signed) ROGER MELTON 1/6/'06.'"When the attorney had finished reading the last letter he put itcarefully in his pocket. Then he took the other letter in his hand, andstood up. "Mr. Rupert Sent Leger," he said, "please to open this letter,and in such a way that all present may see that the memorandum at top ofthe contents is given as--"'B. To be read as clause ten of my Will.'"St. Leger rolled up his sleeves and cuffs just as if he was going toperform some sort of prestidigitation--it was very theatrical andridiculous--then, his wrists being quite bare, he opened the envelope andtook out the letter. We all saw it quite well. It was folded with thefirst page outward, and on the top was written a line just as theattorney said. In obedience to a request from the attorney, he laid bothletter and envelope on the table in front of him. The clerk then roseup, and, after handing a piece of paper to the attorney, went back to hisseat. Mr. Trent, having written something on the paper, asked us all whowere present, even the clerk and the shorthand man, to look at thememorandum on the letter and what was written on the envelope, and tosign the paper, which ran:"We the signatories of this paper hereby declare that we have seen thesealed letter marked B and enclosed in the Will of Roger Melton opened inthe presence of us all including Mr. Edward Bingham Trent and Sir ColinAlexander MacKelpie and we declare that the paper therein contained washeaded 'B. To be read as clause ten of my Will' and that there were noother contents in the envelope. In attestation of which we in thepresence of each other append our signatures."The attorney motioned to my father to begin. Father is a cautious man,and he asked for a magnifying-glass, which was shortly brought to him bya clerk for whom the clerk in the room called. Father examined theenvelope all over very carefully, and also the memorandum at top of thepaper. Then, without a word, he signed the paper. Father is a just man.Then we all signed. The attorney folded the paper and put it in anenvelope. Before closing it he passed it round, and we all saw that ithad not been tampered with. Father took it out and read it, and then putit back. Then the attorney asked us all to sign it across the flap,which we did. Then he put the sealing-wax on it and asked father to sealit with his own seal. He did so. Then he and MacKelpie sealed it alsowith their own seals, Then he put it in another envelope, which he sealedhimself, and he and MacKelpie signed it across the flap.Then father stood up, and so did I. So did the two men--the clerk andthe shorthand writer. Father did not say a word till we got out into thestreet. We walked along, and presently we passed an open gate into thefields. He turned back, saying to me:"Come in here. There is no one about, and we can be quiet. I want tospeak to you." When we sat down on a seat with none other near it,father said:"You are a student of the law. What does all that mean?" I thought it agood occasion for an epigram, so I said one word:"Bilk!""H'm!" said father; "that is so far as you and I are concerned. You witha beggarly ten thousand, and I with twenty. But what is, or will be, theeffect of those secret trusts?""Oh, that," I said, "will, I dare say, be all right. Uncle Rogerevidently did not intend the older generation to benefit too much by hisdeath. But he only gave Rupert St. Leger one thousand pounds, whilst hegave me ten. That looks as if he had more regard for the direct line.Of course--" Father interrupted me:"But what was the meaning of a further sum?""I don't know, father. There was evidently some condition which he wasto fulfil; but he evidently didn't expect that he would. Why, otherwise,did he leave a second trust to Mr. Trent?""True!" said father. Then he went on: "I wonder why he left thoseenormous sums to Trent and old MacKelpie. They seem out of allproportion as executors' fees, unless--""Unless what, father?""Unless the fortune he has left is an enormous one. That is why Iasked.""And that," I laughed, "is why he refused to answer.""Why, Ernest, it must run into big figures.""Right-ho, father. The death-duties will be annoying. What a beastlyswindle the death-duties are! Why, I shall suffer even on your ownlittle estate . . . ""That will do!" he said curtly. Father is so ridiculously touchy. Onewould think he expects to live for ever. Presently he spoke again:"I wonder what are the conditions of that trust. They are asimportant--almost--as the amount of the bequest--whatever it is. By theway, there seems to be no mention in the will of a residuary legatee.Ernest, my boy, we may have to fight over that.""How do you make that out, father?" I asked. He had been very rude overthe matter of the death-duties of his own estate, though it is entailedand I must inherit. So I determined to let him see that I know a gooddeal more than he does--of law, at any rate. "I fear that when we cometo look into it closely that dog won't fight. In the first place, thatmay be all arranged in the letter to St. Leger, which is a part of theWill. And if that letter should be inoperative by his refusal of theconditions (whatever they may be), then the letter to the attorney beginsto work. What it is we don't know, and perhaps even he doesn't--I lookedat it as well as I could--and we law men are trained to observation. Buteven if the instructions mentioned as being in Letter C fail, then thecorpus of the Will gives full power to Trent to act just as he darnpleases. He can give the whole thing to himself if he likes, and no onecan say a word. In fact, he is himself the final court of appeal.""H'm!" said father to himself. "It is a queer kind of will, I take it,that can override the Court of Chancery. We shall perhaps have to try itbefore we are done with this!" With that he rose, and we walked hometogether--without saying another word.My mother was very inquisitive about the whole thing--women always are.Father and I between us told her all it was necessary for her to know. Ithink we were both afraid that, woman-like, she would make trouble for usby saying or doing something injudicious. Indeed, she manifested suchhostility towards Rupert St. Leger that it is quite on the cards that shemay try to injure him in some way. So when father said that he wouldhave to go out shortly again, as he wished to consult his solicitor, Ijumped up and said I would go with him, as I, too, should take advice asto how I stood in the matter.The Contents of Letter marked "B" attached as an Integral Part tothe Last Will of Roger Melton.June 11, 1907."This letter an integral part of my Last Will regards the entireresidue of my estate beyond the specific bequests made in the body ofmy Will. It is to appoint as Residuary Legatee of such Will--in casehe may accept in due form the Conditions herein laid down--my dearNephew Rupert Sent Leger only son of my sister Patience Melton nowdeceased by her marriage with Captain Rupert Sent Leger also nowdeceased. On his acceptance of the Conditions and the fulfilment ofthe first of them the Entire residue of my estate after payments ofall specific Legacies and of all my debts and other obligations is tobecome his absolute property to be dealt with or disposed of as hemay desire. The following are the conditions."1. He is to accept provisionally by letter addressed to myExecutors a sum of nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand poundssterling free of all Duties Taxes or other imposts. This he willhold for a period of six months from the date of the Reading of myLast Will and have user of the accruements thereto calculated at therate of ten per centum per annum which amount he shall under nocircumstances be required to replace. At the end of said six monthshe must express in writing directed to the Executors of my Will hisacceptance or refusal of the other conditions herein to follow. Butif he may so choose he shall be free to declare in writing to theExecutors within one week from the time of the Reading of the Willhis wish to accept or to withdraw altogether from the responsibilityof this Trust. In case of withdrawal he is to retain absolutely andfor his own use the above-mentioned sum of nine hundred andninety-nine thousand pounds sterling free of all Duties Taxes andimposts whatsoever making with the specific bequest of one thousandpounds a clear sum of one million pounds sterling free of allimposts. And he will from the moment of the delivery of such writtenwithdrawal cease to have any right or interest whatsoever in thefurther disposition of my estate under this instrument. Should suchwritten withdrawal be received by my Executors they shall havepossession of such residue of my estate as shall remain after thepayment of the above sum of nine hundred and ninety-nine thousandpounds sterling and the payment of all Duties Taxes assessments orImposts as may be entailed by law by its conveyance to the saidRupert Sent Leger and these my Executors shall hold the same for thefurther disposal of it according to the instructions given in theletter marked C and which is also an integral part of my Last Willand Testament."2. If at or before the expiration of the six months above-mentionedthe said Rupert Sent Leger shall have accepted the further conditionsherein stated, he is to have user of the entire income produced bysuch residue of my estate the said income being paid to him Quarterlyon the usual Quarter Days by the aforesaid Executors to wit MajorGeneral Sir Colin Alexander MacKelpie Bart. and Edward Bingham Trentto be used by him in accordance with the terms and conditionshereinafter mentioned."3. The said Rupert Sent Leger is to reside for a period of at leastsix months to begin not later than three months from the reading ofmy Will in the Castle of Vissarion in the Land of the Blue Mountains.And if he fulfil the Conditions imposed on him and shall therebybecome possessed of the residue of my estate he is to continue toreside there in part for a period of one year. He is not to changehis British Nationality except by a formal consent of the PrivyCouncil of Great Britain."At the end of a year and a half from the Reading of my Will he is toreport in person to my Executors of the expenditure of amounts paidor due by him in the carrying out of the Trust and if they aresatisfied that same are in general accord with the conditions namedin above-mentioned letter marked C and which is an integral part ofmy Will they are to record their approval on such Will which can thengo for final Probate and Taxation. On the Completion of which thesaid Rupert Sent Leger shall become possessed absolutely and withoutfurther act or need of the entire residue of my estate. In witnesswhereof, etc."(Signed) ROGER MELTON."This document is attested by the witnesses to the Will on the same date.(Personal and Confidential.)MEMORANDA MADE BY EDWARD BINGHAM TRENT IN CONNECTION WITH THE WILL OFROGER MELTON.January 3, 1907.The interests and issues of all concerned in the Will and estate ofthe late Roger Melton of Openshaw Grange are so vast that in case anylitigation should take place regarding the same, I, as the solicitor,having the carriage of the testator's wishes, think it well to makecertain memoranda of events, conversations, etc., not covered bydocumentary evidence. I make the first memorandum immediately afterthe event, whilst every detail of act and conversation is still freshin my mind. I shall also try to make such comments thereon as mayserve to refresh my memory hereafter, and which in case of my deathmay perhaps afford as opinions contemporaneously recorded someguiding light to other or others who may later on have to continueand complete the tasks entrusted to me.I.CONCERNING THE READING OF THE WILL OF ROGER MELTON.When, beginning at 11 o'clock a.m. on this the forenoon of Thursday,the 3rd day of January, 1907, I opened the Will and read it in full,except the clauses contained in the letters marked "B" and "C"; therewere present in addition to myself, the following:1. Ernest Halbard Melton, J.P, nephew of the testator.2. Ernest Roger Halbard Melton, son of the above.3. Rupert Sent Leger, nephew of the testator.4. Major-General Sir Colin Alexander MacKelpie, Bart., co-executorwith myself of the Will.5. Andrew Rossiter, my clerk, one of the witnesses of the testator'sWill.6. Alfred Nugent, stenographer (of Messrs. Castle's office, 21,Bream's Buildings, W.C.).When the Will had been read, Mr. E. H. Melton asked the value of theestate left by the testator, which query I did not feel empowered orotherwise able to answer; and a further query, as to why those presentwere not shown the secret clauses of the Will. I answered by reading theinstructions endorsed on the envelopes of the two letters marked "B" and"C," which were sufficiently explanatory.But, lest any question should hereafter arise as to the fact that thememoranda in letters marked "B" and "C," which were to be read as clauses10 and 11 of the Will, I caused Rupert Sent Leger to open the envelopemarked "B" in the presence of all in the room. These all signed a paperwhich I had already prepared, to the effect that they had seen theenvelope opened, and that the memorandum marked "B. To be read as clauseten of my Will," was contained in the envelope, of which it was to be thesole contents. Mr. Ernest Halbard Melton, J.P., before signing,carefully examined with a magnifying-glass, for which he had asked, boththe envelope and the heading of the memorandum enclosed in the letter.He was about to turn the folded paper which was lying on the table over,by which he might have been able to read the matter of the memorandum hadhe so desired. I at once advised him that the memorandum he was to signdealt only with the heading of the page, and not with the matter. Helooked very angry, but said nothing, and after a second scrutiny signed.I put the memorandum in an envelope, which we all signed across the flap.Before signing, Mr Ernest Halbard Melton took out the paper and verifiedit. I then asked him to close it, which he did, and when the sealing-waxwas on it he sealed it with his own seal. Sir Colin A. MacKelpie and Ialso appended our own seals. I put the envelope in another, which Isealed with my own seal, and my co-executor and I signed it across theflap and added the date. I took charge of this. When the others presenthad taken their departure, my co-executor and I, together with Mr. RupertSent Leger, who had remained at my request, went into my private room.Here Mr. Rupert Sent Leger read the memorandum marked "B," which is to beread as clause 10 of the Will. He is evidently a man of considerablenerve, for his face was quite impassive as he read the document, whichconveyed to him (subject to the conditions laid down) a fortune which hasno equal in amount in Europe, even, so far as I know, amongst the crownedheads. When he had read it over a second time he stood up and said:"I wish I had known my uncle better. He must have had the heart of aking. I never heard of such generosity as he has shown me. Mr. Trent, Isee, from the conditions of this memorandum, or codicil, or whatever itis, that I am to declare within a week as to whether I accept theconditions imposed on me. Now, I want you to tell me this: must I wait aweek to declare?" In answer, I told him that the testator's intentionwas manifestly to see that he had full time to consider fully every pointbefore making formal decision and declaration. But, in answer to thespecific question, I could answer that he might make declaration when hewould, provided it was within, or rather not after, the week named. Iadded:"But I strongly advise you not to act hurriedly. So enormous a sum isinvolved that you may be sure that all possible efforts will be made bysomeone or other to dispossess you of your inheritance, and it will bewell that everything shall be done, not only in perfect order, but withsuch manifest care and deliberation that there can be no question as toyour intention.""Thank you, sir," he answered; "I shall do as you shall kindly advise mein this as in other things. But I may tell you now--and you, too, mydear Sir Colin--that I not only accept my Uncle Roger's conditions inthis, but that when the time comes in the other matters I shall acceptevery condition that he had in his mind--and that I may know of--ineverything." He looked exceedingly in earnest, and it gave me muchpleasure to see and hear him. It was just what a young man should do whohad seen so generously treated. As the time had now come, I gave him thebulky letter addressed to him, marked "D" which I had in my safe. As Ifulfilled my obligation in the matter, I said:"You need not read the letter here. You can take it away with you, andread it by yourself at leisure. It is your own property, without anyobligation whatever attached to it. By the way, perhaps it would be wellif you knew. I have a copy sealed up in an envelope, and endorsed, 'Tobe opened if occasion should arise,' but not otherwise. Will you see meto-morrow, or, better still, dine with me alone here to-night? I shouldlike to have a talk with you, and you may wish to ask me some questions."He answered me cordially. I actually felt touched by the way he saidgood-bye before he went away. Sir Colin MacKelpie went with him, as SentLeger was to drop him at the Reform.Letter from Roger Melton to Rupert Sent Leger, endorsed "D. reRupert Sent Leger. To be given to him by Edward Bingham Trent if andas soon as he has declared (formally or informally) his intention ofaccepting the conditions named in Letter B. forming Clause 10 in myWill. R. M. 1/1/'07."Mem.--Copy (sealed) left in custody of E. B. Trent, to be opened ifnecessary, as directed."June 11, 1906.My Dear Nephew,When (if ever) you receive this you will know that (with theexception of some definite bequests) I have left to you, undercertain conditions, the entire bulk of my fortune--a fortune so greatthat by its aid as a help, a man of courage and ability may carve outfor himself a name and place in history. The specific conditionscontained in Clause 10 of my Will have to be observed, for such Ideem to be of service to your own fortune; but herein I give myadvice, which you are at liberty to follow or not as you will, and mywishes, which I shall try to explain fully and clearly, so that youmay be in possession of my views in case you should desire to carrythem out, or, at least, to so endeavour that the results I hope formay be ultimately achieved. First let me explain--for yourunderstanding and your guidance--that the power, or perhaps it hadbetter be called the pressure, behind the accumulation of my fortunehas been ambition. In obedience to its compulsion, I toiled earlyand late until I had so arranged matters that, subject to broadsupervision, my ideas could be carried out by men whom I had selectedand tested, and not found wanting. This was for years to thesatisfaction, and ultimately to the accumulation by these men offortune commensurate in some measure to their own worth and theirimportance to my designs. Thus I had accumulated, whilst still ayoung man, a considerable fortune. This I have for over forty yearsused sparingly as regards my personal needs, daringly with regard tospeculative investments. With the latter I took such very greatcare, studying the conditions surrounding them so thoroughly, thateven now my schedule of bad debts or unsuccessful investments isalmost a blank. Perhaps by such means things flourished with me, andwealth piled in so fast that at times I could hardly use it toadvantage. This was all done as the forerunner of ambition, but Iwas over fifty years of age when the horizon of ambition itselfopened up to me. I speak thus freely, my dear Rupert, as when youread it I shall have passed away, and not ambition nor the fear ofmisunderstanding, nor even of scorn can touch me. My ventures incommerce and finance covered not only the Far East, but every foot ofthe way to it, so that the Mediterranean and all its opening seaswere familiar to me. In my journeyings up and down the Adriatic Iwas always struck by the great beauty and seeming richness--nativerichness--of the Land of the Blue Mountains. At last Chance took meinto that delectable region. When the "Balkan Struggle" of '90 wason, one of the great Voivodes came to me in secret to arrange a largeloan for national purposes. It was known in financial circles ofboth Europe and Asia that I took an active part in the hautepolitique of national treasuries, and the Voivode Vissarion came tome as to one able and willing to carry out his wishes. Afterconfidential pour-parlers, he explained to me that his nation was inthe throes of a great crisis. As you perhaps know, the gallantlittle Nation in the Land of the Blue Mountains has had a strangehistory. For more than a thousand years--ever since its settlementafter the disaster of Rossoro--it had maintained its nationalindependence under several forms of Government. At first it had aKing whose successors became so despotic that they were dethroned.Then it was governed by its Voivodes, with the combining influence ofa Vladika somewhat similar in power and function to thePrince-Bishops of Montenegro; afterwards by a Prince; or, as atpresent, by an irregular elective Council, influenced in a modifiedform by the Vladika, who was then supposed to exercise a purelyspiritual function. Such a Council in a small, poor nation did nothave sufficient funds for armaments, which were not immediately andimperatively necessary; and therefore the Voivode Vissarion, who hadvast estates in his own possession, and who was the presentrepresentative a family which of old had been leaders in the land,found it a duty to do on his own account that which the State couldnot do. For security as to the loan which he wished to get, andwhich was indeed a vast one, he offered to sell me his whole estateif I would secure to him a right to repurchase it within a given time(a time which I may say has some time ago expired). He made it acondition that the sale and agreement should remain a strict secretbetween us, as a widespread knowledge that his estate had changedhands would in all probability result in my death and his own at thehands of the mountaineers, who are beyond everything loyal, and werejealous to the last degree. An attack by Turkey was feared, and newarmaments were required; and the patriotic Voivode was sacrificinghis own great fortune for the public good. What a sacrifice this washe well knew, for in all discussions regarding a possible change inthe Constitution of the Blue Mountains it was always taken forgranted that if the principles of the Constitution should change to amore personal rule, his own family should be regarded as the MostNoble. It had ever been on the side of freedom in olden time; beforethe establishment of the Council, or even during the rule of theVoivodes, the Vissarion had every now and again stood out against theKing or challenged the Princedom. The very name stood for freedom,for nationality, against foreign oppression; and the boldmountaineers were devoted to it, as in other free countries menfollow the flag.Such loyalty was a power and a help in the land, for it knew dangerin every form; and anything which aided the cohesion of its integerswas a natural asset. On every side other powers, great and small,pressed the land, anxious to acquire its suzerainty by anymeans--fraud or force. Greece, Turkey, Austria, Russia, Italy,France, had all tried in vain. Russia, often hurled back, waswaiting an opportunity to attack. Austria and Greece, althoughunited by no common purpose or design, were ready to throw in theirforces with whomsoever might seem most likely to be victor. OtherBalkan States, too, were not lacking in desire to add the littleterritory of the Blue Mountains to their more ample possessions.Albania, Dalmatia, Herzegovina, Servia, Bulgaria, looked with lustfuleyes on the land, which was in itself a vast natural fortress, havingclose under its shelter perhaps the finest harbour between Gibraltarand the Dardanelles.But the fierce, hardy mountaineers were unconquerable. For centuriesthey had fought, with a fervour and fury that nothing could withstandor abate, attacks on their independence. Time after time, centuryafter century, they had opposed with dauntless front invading armiessent against them. This unquenchable fire of freedom had had itseffect. One and all, the great Powers knew that to conquer thatlittle nation would be no mean task, but rather that of a tirelessgiant. Over and over again had they fought with units againsthundreds, never ceasing until they had either wiped out their foesentirely or seen them retreat across the frontier in diminishednumbers.For many years past, however, the Land of the Blue Mountains hadremained unassailable, for all the Powers and States had feared lestthe others should unite against the one who should begin the attack.At the time I speak of there was a feeling throughout the BlueMountains--and, indeed, elsewhere--that Turkey was preparing for awar of offence. The objective of her attack was not known anywhere,but here there was evidence that the Turkish "Bureau of Spies" was inactive exercise towards their sturdy little neighbour. To preparefor this, the Voivode Peter Vissarion approached me in order toobtain the necessary "sinews of war."The situation was complicated by the fact that the Elective Councilwas at present largely held together by the old Greek Church, whichwas the religion of the people, and which had had since the beginningits destinies linked in a large degree with theirs. Thus it waspossible that if a war should break out, it might easilybecome--whatever might have been its cause or beginnings--a war ofcreeds. This in the Balkans must be largely one of races, the end ofwhich no mind could diagnose or even guess at.I had now for some time had knowledge of the country and its people,and had come to love them both. The nobility of Vissarion'sself-sacrifice at once appealed to me, and I felt that I, too, shouldlike to have a hand in the upholding of such a land and such apeople. They both deserved freedom. When Vissarion handed me thecompleted deed of sale I was going to tear it up; but he somehowrecognized my intention, and forestalled it. He held up his handarrestingly as he said:"I recognize your purpose, and, believe me, I honour you for it fromthe very depths of my soul. But, my friend, it must not be. Ourmountaineers are proud beyond belief. Though they would allowme--who am one of themselves, and whose fathers have been in some wayleaders and spokesmen amongst them for many centuries--to do all thatis in my power to do--and what, each and all, they would be glad todo were the call to them--they would not accept aid from one outsidethemselves. My good friend, they would resent it, and might show toyou, who wish us all so well, active hostility, which might end indanger, or even death. That was why, my friend, I asked to put aclause in our agreement, that I might have right to repurchase myestate, regarding which you would fain act so generously."Thus it is, my dear nephew Rupert, only son of my dear sister, that Ihereby charge you solemnly as you value me--as you value yourself--asyou value honour, that, should it ever become known that that nobleVoivode, Peter Vissarion, imperilled himself for his country's good,and if it be of danger or evil repute to him that even for such apurpose he sold his heritage, you shall at once and to the knowledgeof the mountaineers--though not necessarily to others--reconvey tohim or his heirs the freehold that he was willing to part with--andthat he has de facto parted with by the effluxion of the timeduring which his right of repurchase existed. This is a secret trustand duty which is between thee and me alone in the first instance; aduty which I have undertaken on behalf of my heirs, and which must becarried out, at whatsoever cost may ensue. You must not take it thatit is from any mistrust of you or belief that you will fail that Ihave taken another measure to insure that this my cherished idea isborne out. Indeed, it is that the law may, in case of need--for noman can know what may happen after his own hand be taken from theplough--be complied with, that I have in another letter written forthe guidance of others, directed that in case of any failure to carryout this trust--death or other--the direction become a clause orcodicil to my Will. But in the meantime I wish that this be kept asecret between us two. To show you the full extent of my confidence,let me here tell you that the letter alluded to above is marked "C,"and directed to my solicitor and co-executor, Edward Bingham Trent,which is finally to be regarded as clause eleven of my Will. Towhich end he has my instructions and also a copy of this letter,which is, in case of need, and that only, to be opened, and is to bea guide to my wishes as to the carrying out by you of the conditionson which you inherit.And now, my dear nephew, let me change to another subject more dearto me--yourself. When you read this I shall have passed away, sothat I need not be hampered now by that reserve which I feel hasgrown upon me through a long and self-contained life. Your motherwas very dear to me. As you know, she was twenty years younger thanher youngest brother, who was two years younger than me. So we wereall young men when she was a baby, and, I need not say, a pet amongstus--almost like our own child to each of us, as well as our sister.You knew her sweetness and high quality, so I need say nothing ofthese; but I should like you to understand that she was very dear tome. When she and your father came to know and love each other I wasfar away, opening up a new branch of business in the interior ofChina, and it was not for several months that I got home news. WhenI first heard of him they had already been married. I was delightedto find that they were very happy. They needed nothing that I couldgive. When he died so suddenly I tried to comfort her, and all I hadwas at her disposal, did she want it. She was a proud woman--thoughnot with me. She had come to understand that, though I seemed coldand hard (and perhaps was so generally), I was not so to her. Butshe would not have help of any kind. When I pressed her, she told methat she had enough for your keep and education and her ownsustenance for the time she must still live; that your father and shehad agreed that you should be brought up to a healthy and strenuouslife rather than to one of luxury; and she thought that it would bebetter for the development of your character that you should learn tobe self-reliant and to be content with what your dear father had leftyou. She had always been a wise and thoughtful girl, and now all herwisdom and thought were for you, your father's and her child. Whenshe spoke of you and your future, she said many things which Ithought memorable. One of them I remember to this day. It wasapropos of my saying that there is a danger of its own kind inextreme poverty. A young man might know too much want. She answeredme: "True! That is so! But there is a danger that overrides it;"and after a time went on:"It is better not to know wants than not to know want!" I tell you,boy, that is a great truth, and I hope you will remember it foryourself as well as a part of the wisdom of your mother. And herelet me say something else which is a sort of corollary of that wiseutterance:I dare say you thought me very hard and unsympathetic that time Iwould not, as one of your trustees, agree to your transferring yourlittle fortune to Miss MacKelpie. I dare say you bear a grudgetowards me about it up to this day. Well, if you have any of thatremaining, put it aside when you know the truth. That request ofyours was an unspeakable delight to me. It was like your mothercoming back from the dead. That little letter of yours made me wishfor the first time that I had a son--and that he should be like you.I fell into a sort of reverie, thinking if I were yet too old tomarry, so that a son might be with me in my declining years--if suchwere to ever be for me. But I concluded that this might not be.There was no woman whom I knew or had ever met with that I could loveas your mother loved your father and as he loved her. So I resignedmyself to my fate. I must go my lonely road on to the end. And thencame a ray of light into my darkness: there was you. Though youmight not feel like a son to me--I could not expect it when thememory of that sweet relationship was more worthily filled. But Icould feel like a father to you. Nothing could prevent that orinterfere with it, for I would keep it as my secret in the very holyof holies of my heart, where had been for thirty years the image of asweet little child--your mother. My boy, when in your future lifeyou shall have happiness and honour and power, I hope you willsometimes give a thought to the lonely old man whose later years yourvery existence seemed to brighten.The thought of your mother recalled me to my duty. I had undertakenfor her a sacred task: to carry out her wishes regarding her son. Iknew how she would have acted. It might--would--have been to her astruggle of inclination and duty; and duty would have won. And so Icarried out my duty, though I tell you it was a harsh and bitter taskto me at the time. But I may tell you that I have since been gladwhen I think of the result. I tried, as you may perhaps remember, tocarry out your wishes in another way, but your letter put thedifficulty of doing so so clearly before me that I had to give it up.And let me tell you that that letter endeared you to me more thanever.I need not tell you that thenceforth I followed your life veryclosely. When you ran away to sea, I used in secret every part ofthe mechanism of commerce to find out what had become of you. Then,until you had reached your majority, I had a constant watch kept uponyou--not to interfere with you in any way, but so that I might beable to find you should need arise. When in due course I heard ofyour first act on coming of age I was satisfied. I had to know ofthe carrying out of your original intention towards Janet Mac Kelpie,for the securities had to be transferred.From that time on I watched--of course through other eyes--your chiefdoings. It would have been a pleasure to me to have been able tohelp in carrying out any hope or ambition of yours, but I realizedthat in the years intervening between your coming of age and thepresent moment you were fulfilling your ideas and ambitions in yourown way, and, as I shall try to explain to you presently, myambitions also. You were of so adventurous a nature that even my ownwidely-spread machinery of acquiring information--what I may call myprivate "intelligence department"--was inadequate. My machinery wasfairly adequate for the East--in great part, at all events. But youwent North and South, and West also, and, in addition, you essayedrealms where commerce and purely real affairs have nofoothold--worlds of thought, of spiritual import, of psychicphenomena--speaking generally, of mysteries. As now and again I wasbaffled in my inquiries, I had to enlarge my mechanism, and to thisend started--not in my own name, of course--some new magazinesdevoted to certain branches of inquiry and adventure. Should youever care to know more of these things, Mr. Trent, in whose name thestock is left, will be delighted to give you all details. Indeed,these stocks, like all else I have, shall be yours when the timecomes, if you care to ask for them. By means of The Journal ofAdventure, The Magazine of Mystery, Occultism, Balloon andAeroplane, The Submarine, Jungle and Pampas, The Ghost World,The Explorer, Forest and Island, Ocean and Creek, I was oftenkept informed when I should otherwise have been ignorant of yourwhereabouts and designs. For instance, when you had disappeared intothe Forest of the Incas, I got the first whisper of your strangeadventures and discoveries in the buried cities of Eudori from acorrespondent of The Journal of Adventure long before the detailsgiven in The Times of the rock-temple of the primeval savages,where only remained the little dragon serpents, whose giant ancestorswere rudely sculptured on the sacrificial altar. I well remember howI thrilled at even that meagre account of your going in alone intothat veritable hell. It was from Occultism that I learned how youhad made a stay alone in the haunted catacombs of Elora, in the farrecesses of the Himalayas, and of the fearful experiences which, whenyou came out shuddering and ghastly, overcame to almost epilepticfear those who had banded themselves together to go as far as therock-cut approach to the hidden temple.All such things I read with rejoicing. You were shaping yourself fora wider and loftier adventure, which would crown more worthily yourmatured manhood. When I read of you in a description of Mihask, inMadagascar, and the devil-worship there rarely held, I felt I hadonly to wait for your home-coming in order to broach the enterprise Ihad so long contemplated. This was what I read:"He is a man to whom no adventure is too wild or too daring. Hisreckless bravery is a byword amongst many savage peoples and amongstmany others not savages, whose fears are not of material things, butof the world of mysteries in and beyond the grave. He dares not onlywild animals and savage men; but has tackled African magic and Indianmysticism. The Psychical Research Society has long exploited hisdeeds of valiance, and looked upon him as perhaps their most trustedagent or source of discovery. He is in the very prime of life, ofalmost giant stature and strength, trained to the use of all arms ofall countries, inured to every kind of hardship, subtle-minded andresourceful, understanding human nature from its elemental form up.To say that he is fearless would be inadequate. In a word, he is aman whose strength and daring fit him for any enterprise of any kind.He would dare and do anything in the world or out of it, on the earthor under it, in the sea or--in the air, fearing nothing material orunseen, not man or ghost, nor God nor Devil."If you ever care to think of it, I carried that cutting in mypocket-book from that hour I read it till now.Remember, again, I say, that I never interfered in the slightest wayin any of your adventures. I wanted you to "dree your own weird," asthe Scotch say; and I wanted to know of it--that was all. Now, as Ihold you fully equipped for greater enterprise, I want to set yourfeet on the road and to provide you with the most potentweapon--beyond personal qualities--for the winning of great honour--again, my dear nephew, which, I am right sure, does and will appeal toyou as it has ever done to me. I have worked for it for more thanfifty years; but now that the time has come when the torch isslipping from my old hands, I look to you, my dearest kinsman, tolift it and carry it on.The little nation of the Blue Mountains has from the first appealedto me. It is poor and proud and brave. Its people are well worthwinning, and I would advise you to throw in your lot with them. Youmay find them hard to win, for when peoples, like individuals, arepoor and proud, these qualities are apt to react on each other to anendless degree. These men are untamable, and no one can ever succeedwith them unless he is with them in all-in-all, and is a leaderrecognized. But if you can win them they are loyal to death. If youare ambitious--and I know you are--there may be a field for you insuch a country. With your qualifications, fortified by the fortunewhich I am happy enough to be able to leave you, you may dare muchand go far. Should I be alive when you return from your explorationin Northern South America, I may have the happiness of helping you tothis or any other ambition, and I shall deem it a privilege to shareit with you; but time is going on. I am in my seventy-second year .. . the years of man are three-score and ten--I suppose youunderstand; I do . . . Let me point out this: For ambitious projectsthe great nationalities are impossible to a stranger--and in our ownwe are limited by loyalty (and common-sense). It is only in a smallnation that great ambitions can be achieved. If you share my ownviews and wishes, the Blue Mountains is your ground. I hoped at onetime that I might yet become a Voivode--even a great one. But agehas dulled my personal ambitions as it has cramped my powers. I nolonger dream of such honour for myself, though I do look on it as apossibility for you if you care for it. Through my Will you willhave a great position and a great estate, and though you may have toyield up the latter in accordance with my wish, as already expressedin this letter, the very doing so will give you an even greater holdthan this possession in the hearts of the mountaineers, should theyever come to know it. Should it be that at the time you inherit fromme the Voivode Vissarion should not be alive, it may serve or aid youto know that in such case you would be absolved from any conditionsof mine, though I trust you would in that, as in all other matters,hold obligation enforced by your own honour as to my wishes.Therefore the matter stands thus: If Vissarion lives, you willrelinquish the estates. Should such not be the case, you will act asyou believe that I would wish you to. In either case themountaineers should not know from you in any way of the secretcontracts between Vissarion and myself. Enlightenment of the manyshould (if ever) come from others than yourself. And unless suchtake place, you would leave the estates without any quid pro quowhatever. This you need not mind, for the fortune you will inheritwill leave you free and able to purchase other estates in the BlueMountains or elsewhere that you may select in the world.If others attack, attack them, and quicker and harder than they can,if such be a possibility. Should it ever be that you inherit theCastle of Vissarion on the Spear of Ivan, remember that I had itsecretly fortified and armed against attack. There are not onlymassive grilles, but doors of chilled bronze where such be needed.My adherent Rooke, who has faithfully served me for nearly fortyyears, and has gone on my behalf on many perilous expeditions, will,I trust, serve you in the same way. Treat him well for my sake, ifnot for your own. I have left him provision for a life of ease; buthe would rather take a part in dangerous enterprises. He is silentas the grave and as bold as a lion. He knows every detail of thefortification and of the secret means of defence. A word in yourear--he was once a pirate. He was then in his extreme youth, andlong since changed his ways in this respect; but from this fact youcan understand his nature. You will find him useful should occasionever arise. Should you accept the conditions of my letter, you areto make the Blue Mountains--in part, at least--your home, livingthere a part of the year, if only for a week, as in England men ofmany estates share the time amongst them. To this you are not bound,and no one shall have power to compel you or interfere with you. Ionly express a hope. But one thing I do more than hope--I desire, ifyou will honour my wishes, that, come what may, you are to keep yourBritish nationality, unless by special arrangement with and consentof the Privy Council. Such arrangement to be formally made by myfriend, Edward Bingham Trent, or whomsoever he may appoint by deed orwill to act in the matter, and made in such a way that no act savethat alone of Parliament in all its estates, and endorsed by theKing, may or can prevail against it.My last word to you is, Be bold and honest, and fear not. Mostthings--even kingship--somewhere may now and again be won by thesword. A brave heart and a strong arm may go far. But whatever isso won cannot be held merely by the sword. Justice alone can hold inthe long run. Where men trust they will follow, and the rank andfile of people want to follow, not to lead. If it be your fortune tolead, be bold. Be wary, if you will; exercise any other facultiesthat may aid or guard. Shrink from nothing. Avoid nothing that ishonourable in itself. Take responsibility when such presents itself.What others shrink from, accept. That is to be great in what world,little or big, you move. Fear nothing, no matter of what kind dangermay be or whence it come. The only real way to meet danger is todespise it--except with your brains. Meet it in the gate, not thehall.My kinsman, the name of my race and your own, worthily mingled inyour own person, now rests with you!Letter from Rupert Sent Leger, 32 Bodmin Street, Victoria, S.W.to Miss Janet MacKelpie, Croom, Ross-shire.January 3, 1907.MY DEAREST AUNT JANET,You will, I know, be rejoiced to hear of the great good-fortune whichhas come to me through the Will of Uncle Roger. Perhaps Sir Colinwill have written to you, as he is one of the executors, and there isa bequest to you, so I must not spoil his pleasure of telling you ofthat part himself. Unfortunately, I am not free to speak fully of myown legacy yet, but I want you to know that at worst I am to receivean amount many times more than I ever dreamt of possessing throughany possible stroke of fortune. So soon as I can leaveLondon--where, of course, I must remain until things are settled--Iam coming up to Croom to see you, and I hope I shall by then be ableto let you know so much that you will be able to guess at theextraordinary change that has come to my circumstances. It is alllike an impossible dream: there is nothing like it in the "ArabianNights." However, the details must wait, I am pledged to secrecy forthe present. And you must be pledged too. You won't mind, dear,will you? What I want to do at present is merely to tell you of myown good-fortune, and that I shall be going presently to live for awhile at Vissarion. Won't you come with me, Aunt Janet? We shalltalk more of this when I come to Croom; but I want you to keep thesubject in your mind.Your lovingRUPERT.From Rupert Sent Leger's Journal.January 4, 1907.Things have been humming about me so fast that I have had hardly timeto think. But some of the things have been so important, and have sochanged my entire outlook on life, that it may be well to keep somepersonal record of them. I may some day want to remember somedetail--perhaps the sequence of events, or something like that--andit may be useful. It ought to be, if there is any justice in things,for it will be an awful swot to write it when I have so many thingsto think of now. Aunt Janet, I suppose, will like to keep it lockedup for me, as she does with all my journals and papers. That is onegood thing about Aunt Janet amongst many: she has no curiosity, orelse she has some other quality which keeps her from prying as otherwomen would. It would seem that she has not so much as opened thecover of one of my journals ever in her life, and that she would notwithout my permission. So this can in time go to her also.I dined last night with Mr. Trent, by his special desire. The dinnerwas in his own rooms. Dinner sent in from the hotel. He would nothave any waiters at all, but made them send in the dinner all atonce, and we helped ourselves. As we were quite alone, we could talkfreely, and we got over a lot of ground while we were dining. Hebegan to tell me about Uncle Roger. I was glad of that, for, ofcourse, I wanted to know all I could of him, and the fact was I hadseen very little of him. Of course, when I was a small kid he wasoften in our house, for he was very fond of mother, and she of him.But I fancy that a small boy was rather a nuisance to him. And thenI was at school, and he was away in the East. And then poor motherdied while he was living in the Blue Mountains, and I never saw himagain. When I wrote to him about Aunt Janet he answered me verykindly but he was so very just in the matter that I got afraid ofhim. And after that I ran away, and have been roaming ever since; sothere was never a chance of our meeting. But that letter of his hasopened my eyes. To think of him following me that way all over theworld, waiting to hold out a helping hand if I should want it, I onlywish I had known, or even suspected, the sort of man he was, and howhe cared for me, and I would sometimes have come back to see him, ifI had to come half round the world. Well, all I can do now is tocarry out his wishes; that will be my expiation for my neglect. Heknew what he wanted exactly, and I suppose I shall come in time toknow it all and understand it, too.I was thinking something like this when Mr. Trent began to talk, sothat all he said fitted exactly into my own thought. The two menwere evidently great friends--I should have gathered that, anyhow,from the Will--and the letters--so I was not surprised when Mr. Trenttold me that they had been to school together, Uncle Roger being asenior when he was a junior; and had then and ever after shared eachother's confidence. Mr. Trent, I gathered, had from the very firstbeen in love with my mother, even when she was a little girl; but hewas poor and shy, and did not like to speak. When he had made up hismind to do so, he found that she had by then met my father, and couldnot help seeing that they loved each other. So he was silent. Hetold me he had never said a word about it to anyone--not even to myUncle Roger, though he knew from one thing and another, though henever spoke of it, that he would like it. I could not help seeingthat the dear old man regarded me in a sort of parental way--I haveheard of such romantic attachments being transferred to the latergeneration. I was not displeased with it; on the contrary, I likedhim better for it. I love my mother so much--I always think of herin the present--that I cannot think of her as dead. There is a tiebetween anyone else who loved her and myself. I tried to let Mr.Trent see that I liked him, and it pleased him so much that I couldsee his liking for me growing greater. Before we parted he told methat he was going to give up business. He must have understood howdisappointed I was--for how could I ever get along at all withouthim?--for he said, as he laid a hand quite affectionately, Ithought--on my shoulder:"I shall have one client, though, whose business I always hope tokeep, and for whom I shall be always whilst I live glad to act--if hewill have me." I did not care to speak as I took his hand. Hesqueezed mine, too, and said very earnestly:"I served your uncle's interests to the very best of my ability fornearly fifty years. He had full confidence in me, and I was proud ofhis trust. I can honestly say, Rupert--you won't mind me using thatfamiliarity, will you?--that, though the interests which I guardedwere so vast that without abusing my trust I could often have used myknowledge to my personal advantage, I never once, in little mattersor big, abused that trust--no, not even rubbed the bloom off it. Andnow that he has remembered me in his Will so generously that I needwork no more, it will be a very genuine pleasure and pride to me tocarry out as well as I can the wishes that I partly knew, and nowrealize more fully towards you, his nephew."In the long chat which we had, and which lasted till midnight, hetold me many very interesting things about Uncle Roger. When, in thecourse of conversation, he mentioned that the fortune Uncle Rogerleft must be well over a hundred millions, I was so surprised that Isaid out loud--I did not mean to ask a question:"How on earth could a man beginning with nothing realize such agigantic fortune?""By all honest ways," he answered, "and his clever human insight. Heknew one half of the world, and so kept abreast of all public andnational movements that he knew the critical moment to advance moneyrequired. He was always generous, and always on the side of freedom.There are nations at this moment only now entering on theconsolidation of their liberty, who owe all to him, who knew when andhow to help. No wonder that in some lands they will drink to hismemory on great occasions as they used to drink his health.""As you and I shall do now, sir!" I said, as I filled my glass andstood up. We drank it in bumpers. We did not say a word, either ofus; but the old gentleman held out his hand, and I took it. And so,holding hands, we drank in silence. It made me feel quite choky; andI could see that he, too, was moved.From E. B. Trent's Memoranda.January 4, 1907.I asked Mr. Rupert Sent Leger to dine with me at my office alone, asI wished to have a chat with him. To-morrow Sir Colin and I willhave a formal meeting with him for the settlement of affairs, but Ithought it best to have an informal talk with him alone first, as Iwished to tell him certain matters which will make our meetingto-morrow more productive of utility, as he can now have more fullunderstanding of the subjects which we have to discuss. Sir Colin isall that can be in manhood, and I could wish no better colleague inthe executorship of this phenomenal Will; but he has not had theprivilege of a lifelong friendship with the testator as I have had.And as Rupert Sent Leger had to learn intimate details regarding hisuncle, I could best make my confidences alone. To-morrow we shallhave plenty of formality. I was delighted with Rupert. He is justwhat I could have wished his mother's boy to be--or a son of my ownto be, had I had the good-fortune to have been a father. But this isnot for me. I remember long, long ago reading a passage in Lamb'sEssays which hangs in my mind: "The children of Alice call Bartrumfather." Some of my old friends would laugh to see me write this,but these memoranda are for my eyes alone, and no one shall see themtill after my death, unless by my own permission. The boy takes somequalities after his father; he has a daring that is disturbing to anold dryasdust lawyer like me. But somehow I like him more than Iever liked anyone--any man--in my life--more even than his uncle, myold friend, Roger Melton; and Lord knows I had much cause to likehim. I have more than ever now. It was quite delightful to see theway the young adventurer was touched by his uncle's thought of him.He is a truly gallant fellow, but venturesome exploits have notaffected the goodness of heart. It is a pleasure to me to think thatRoger and Colin came together apropos of the boy's thoughtfulgenerosity towards Miss MacKelpie. The old soldier will be a goodfriend to him, or I am much mistaken. With an old lawyer like me,and an old soldier like him, and a real old gentlewoman like MissMacKelpie, who loves the very ground he walks on, to look after him,together with all his own fine qualities and his marvellousexperience of the world, and the gigantic wealth that will surely behis, that young man will go far.Letter from Rupert Sent Leger to Miss Janet MacKelpie, Croom.January 5, 1907.MY DEAREST AUNT JANET,It is all over--the first stage of it; and that is as far as I canget at present. I shall have to wait for a few days--or it may beweeks--in London for the doing of certain things now necessitated bymy acceptance of Uncle Roger's bequest. But as soon as I can, dear,I shall come down to Croom and spend with you as many days aspossible. I shall then tell you all I am at liberty to tell, and Ishall thank you personally for your consent to come with me toVissarion. Oh, how I wish my dear mother had lived to be with us!It would have made her happy, I know, to have come; and then we threewho shared together the old dear, hard days would have shared in thesame way the new splendour. I would try to show all my love andgratitude to you both . . . You must take the whole burden of it now,dear, for you and I are alone. No, not alone, as we used to be, forI have now two old friends who are already dear to me. One is so toyou already. Sir Colin is simply splendid, and so, in his own way,is Mr. Trent. I am lucky, Aunt Janet, to have two such men to thinkof affairs for me. Am I not? I shall send you a wire as soon asever I can see my way to get through my work; and I want you to thinkover all the things you ever wished for in your life, so that Imay--if there is any mortal way of doing so--get them for you. Youwill not stand in the way of my having this great pleasure, will you,dear? Good-bye.Your lovingRUPERT.E. B. Trent's Memoranda.January 6, 1907.The formal meeting of Sir Colin and myself with Rupert Sent Legerwent off quite satisfactorily. From what he had said yesterday, andagain last night, I had almost come to expect an unreservedacceptance of everything stated or implied in Roger Melton's Will;but when we had sat round the table--this appeared, by the way, to bea formality for which we were all prepared, for we sat down as if byinstinct--the very first words he said were:"As I suppose I must go through this formality, I may as well say atonce that I accept every possible condition which was in the mind ofUncle Roger; and to this end I am prepared to sign, seal, anddeliver--or whatever is the ritual--whatever document you,sir"--turning to me--"may think necessary or advisable, and of whichyou both approve." He stood up and walked about the room for a fewmoments, Sir Colin and I sitting quite still, silent. He came backto his seat, and after a few seconds of nervousness--a rare thingwith him, I fancy--said: "I hope you both understand--of course, Iknow you do; I only speak because this is an occasion forformality--that I am willing to accept, and at once! I do so,believe me, not to get possession of this vast fortune, but becauseof him who has given it. The man who was fond of me, and who trustedme, and yet had strength to keep his own feelings in check--whofollowed me in spirit to far lands and desperate adventures, and who,though he might be across the world from me, was ready to put out ahand to save or help me, was no common man; and his care of mymother's son meant no common love for my dear mother. And so she andI together accept his trust, come of it what may. I have beenthinking it over all night, and all the time I could not get out ofthe idea that mother was somewhere near me. The only thought thatcould debar me from doing as I wished to do--and intend to do--wouldbe that she would not approve. Now that I am satisfied she wouldapprove, I accept. Whatever may result or happen, I shall go onfollowing the course that he has set for me. So help me, God!" SirColin stood up, and I must say a more martial figure I never saw. Hewas in full uniform, for he was going on to the King's levee afterour business. He drew his sword from the scabbard and laid it nakedon the table before Rupert, and said:"You are going, sir, into a strange and danger country--I have beenreading about it since we met--and you will be largely alone amongstfierce mountaineers who resent the very presence of a stranger, andto whom you are, and must be, one. If you should ever be in anytrouble and want a man to stand back to back with you, I hope youwill give me the honour!" As he said this pointed to his sword.Rupert and I were also standing now--one cannot sit down in thepresence of such an act as that. "You are, I am proud to say, alliedwith my family: and I only wish to God it was closer to myself."Rupert took him by the hand and bent his head before him as answered:"The honour is mine, Sir Colin; and no greater can come to any manthan that which you have just done me. The best way I can show how Ivalue it will be to call on you if I am ever in such a tight place.By Jove, sir, this is history repeating itself. Aunt Janet used totell me when I was a youngster how MacKelpie of Croom laid his swordbefore Prince Charlie. I hope I may tell her of this; it would makeher so proud and happy. Don't imagine, sir, that I am thinkingmyself a Charles Edward. It is only that Aunt Janet is so good to methat I might well think I was."Sir Colin bowed grandly:"Rupert Sent Leger, my dear niece is a woman of great discretion anddiscernment. And, moreover, I am thinking she has in her some of thegift of Second Sight that has been a heritage of our blood. And I amone with my niece--in everything!" The whole thing was quite regalin manner; it seemed to take me back to the days of the Pretender.It was not, however, a time for sentiment, but for action--we had metregarding the future, not the past; so I produced the short documentI had already prepared. On the strength of his steadfast declarationthat he would accept the terms of the Will and the secret letters, Ihad got ready a formal acceptance. When I had once again formallyasked Mr. Sent Leger's wishes, and he had declared his wish toaccept, I got in a couple of my clerks as witnesses.Then, having again asked him in their presence if it was his wish todeclare acceptance of the conditions, the document was signed andwitnessed, Sir Colin and I both appending our signatures to theAttestation.And so the first stage of Rupert Sent Leger's inheritance iscompleted. The next step will not have to be undertaken on my partuntil the expiration of six months from his entry on his estate atVissarion. As he announces his intention of going within afortnight, this will mean practically a little over six months fromnow.