English fiction -- 19th century; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mystery fiction; Smugglers -- Fiction
"Hill said more than once to me that he should not last long now his
master Was gone," resumed the lawyer: "but I thought it was but an old
man's talk, grieving after his many years' master and friend. He was
right, however."
Regrets were stealing upon Mary. She had not, she thought, taken as
much notice of this faithful old man as she ought. Why, oh, why, in
that one sole visit she had made to Stilborough, to Mrs. Ord, did she
not call to see him? These reproaches strike on us all when a friend
passes away. The tears were trickling down her cheeks.
"And I should not have hastened over here to tell you this of itself,
Miss Castlemaine; you'd have heard it soon without that; ill news
travels fast. But nothing can be done without your sanction; hardly
the first coffin ordered. You are left sole executor."
"I am! Executor!"
"Executrix, I should have said; but the other word comes more ready.
His will does not contain ten lines, I think, for I made it; and
there's not a name mentioned in it but yours. Every stick and stone is
left to you; and sole, full power in all ways."
"But what shall I do, Mr. Knivett? To leave me executor!"
"My dear young lady, I knew you would be distressed at the first blush
of the thing. I was surprised when he gave me the directions; but he
would have it so. He had a notion, I fancy, that it might serve to
take you abroad a bit out of this place: he did not like your being
here."
"I know he did not. I strove to convince him I was happy when he came
over here in the summer; but he could not think it."
"Just so. His money is well and safely invested, and will bring you in
about three hundred and fifty pounds a year. There's some silver, too,
and other knicknacks. It is all yours."
"What a good, kind, faithful man he was!" she said, her eyes
streaming. "Good always, in every relation of life. He has gone to his
reward."
"Ay, ay," nodded Mr. Knivett. "Hill was better than some of his
neighbours, and that's a fact."
"But I can never act," she exclaimed. "I should not know what to do or
how to do it."
"My dear Miss Mary, you need not trouble yourself on that score. Give
me power, and I will make it all as easy for you as an old shoe. In
fact, I will act instead of you. Not for gain," he added impressively:
"I must do this little matter for you for friendship's sake. Nay, my
dear, you must meet this as it is meant: remember my long friendship
with your father."
"You are very kind," she faltered.
"Have you a pen and ink at hand?"
She brought one, and he caused her to assign to him the necessary
power. Then he asked her wishes as to temporary matters and they
consulted for a few minutes together: but she was glad to leave all to
Mr. Knivett that she could leave.
"There has been another death at Stilborough to-day: at least, not
more than a mile or two from it," observed the lawyer, as he rose to
leave. "You have not heard of it, I suppose?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account