“Yes, Sir; there are,” said Mr. John Short, with much meaning. “The
will to be filed in the Registry is the last true will of Jonathan
Meeson, of Pompadour Hall, in the county of Warwick, and the property
concerned amounts to about two millions. Upon last motion day, the
death of Jonathan Meeson, who was supposed to have sunk in the
Kangaroo, was allowed to be presumed, and probate has been taken out.
As a matter of fact, however, the said Jonathan Meeson perished in
Kerguelen Land some days after the shipwreck, and before he died he
duly executed a fresh will in favour of his nephew, Eustace H. Meeson,
the gentleman before you. Miss Augusta Smithers”—
“What,” said the learned Registrar, “is this Miss Smithers whom we have
been reading so much about lately—the Kerguelen Land heroine?”
“Yes; I am Miss Smithers,” she said with a little blush; “and this is
Lady Holmhurst, whose husband”—and she checked herself.
“It gives me much pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Smithers,”
said the learned Doctor, courteously shaking hands, and bowing to Lady
Holmhurst—proceedings which Eustace watched with the jaundiced eye of
suspicion. “He’s beginning already,” said that ardent lover to himself.
“I knew how it would be. Trust my Gus into his custody?—never! I had
rather be committed for contempt.”
“The best thing that I can do, Sir,” went on John Short, impatiently,
for, to his severe eye, these interruptions were not seemly, “will be
to at once offer you inspection of the document, which, I may state, is
of an unusual character,” and he looked at Augusta, who, poor girl,
coloured to the eyes.
“Quite so, quite so,” said the learned Registrar. “Well, has Miss
Smithers got the will? Perhaps she will produce it.”
“Miss Smithers _is_ the will,” said Mr. John Short.
“Oh—I am afraid that I do not quite understand”—
“To be more precise, Sir, the will is tattooed on Miss Smithers.”
“_What_?” almost shouted the learned Doctor, literally bounding from
his chair.
“The will is tattooed upon Miss Smithers’s back,” continued Mr. John
Short, in a perfectly unmoved tone; “and it is now my duty to offer you
inspection of the document, and to take your instructions as to how you
propose to file it in the Registry”—
“Inspection of the document—inspection of the document?” gasped the
astonished Doctor; “How am I to inspect the document?”
“I must leave that to you, Sir,” said Mr. John Short, regarding the
learned Registrar’s shrinking form with contempt not unmixed with pity.
“The will is on the lady’s back, and I, on behalf of the plaintiff,
mean to get a grant with the document annexed.”
Lady Holmhurst began to laugh; and as for the learned Doctor, anything
more absurd than he looked, intrenched as he was behind his office
chair, with perplexity written on his face, it would be impossible to
imagine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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