English fiction -- 19th century; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mystery fiction; Smugglers -- Fiction
"I am glad he did bring him, papa," was her impulsive answer. "You
have no idea what a sensible, pleasant young man he is. I could almost
wish he were more even than a cousin--a brother."
"Why, my dear, you must be dreaming!" cried the banker, after a pause
of astonishment. "Cousin!--brother! It does not do to take strange
people on trust in this way. The man may be, and I dare say is, an
adventurer," he continued, testily: "no more related to the
Castlemaines than I am related to the King of England."
She laughed. "You may take him upon trust, papa, without doubt or
fear. He is a Castlemaine all over, save in the height. The likeness
to grandpapa is wonderful; it is so even to you and to uncle James.
But he says he has all needful credential proofs with him."
The banker, who was then looking from the window, stood fingering the
bunch of seals that hung from his long and massive watch-chain, his
habit sometimes when in deep thought. Self-interest sways us all. The
young man was no doubt the individual he purported to be: but if he
were going to put in a vexatious claim to Greylands' Rest, and so upset
James, the banker might get no loan from him. He turned to his
daughter.
"You believe, then, my dear, that he is really what he makes himself
out to be--Basil's son?"
"Papa, I think there is no question of it. I feel sure there can be
none. Rely upon it, the young man is not one who would lay himself out
to deceive, or to countenance deception: he is evidently honest and
open as the day. I scarcely ever saw so true a face."
"Well, I am very sorry," returned the banker. "It may bring a great
deal of trouble upon James."
"In what way can it bring him trouble, papa?" questioned Mary Ursula,
in surprise.
"This young man--as I am informed--has come over to put in a claim to
Greylands' Rest."
"To Greylands' Rest!" she repeated. "But that is my uncle James's! How
can anyone else claim it?"
"People may put in a claim to it; there's no law against that; as I
fear this young man means to do," replied the banker, taking thought
and time over his answer. "He may cost James no end of bother and
expense."
"But, papa--I think indeed you must be misinformed. I feel sure this
young man is not one who would attempt to claim anything that is not
his own."
"But if he supposes it to be his own?"
"What, Greylands' Rest his? How can that be?"
"My dear child, as yet I know almost nothing. Nothing but a few words
that Mrs. Castlemaine said to me last night."
"But why should he take up such a notion, papa?" she asked, in
surprise.
"From his father, I suppose. I know Basil as much believed Greylands'
Rest would descend to him as he believed In his Bible. However, I must
go down and see this young man."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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