The Talleyrand Maxim Read online

  CHAPTER II

  IN TRUST

  As quietly and composedly as if he were discharging the most ordinary ofhis daily duties, Pratt unfolded the document, and went close to thesolitary gas jet above Eldrick's desk. What he held in his hand was ahalf-sheet of ruled foolscap paper, closely covered with writing, whichhe at once recognized as that of the late John Mallathorpe. He wasfamiliar with that writing--he had often seen it. It was anold-fashioned writing--clear, distinct, with every letter well and fullyformed.

  "Made it himself!" muttered Pratt. "Um!--looks as if he wanted to keepthe terms secret. Well----"

  He read the will through--rapidly, but with care, murmuring thephraseology half aloud.

  "This is the last will of me, John Mallathorpe, of Normandale Grange, inthe parish of Normandale, in the West Riding of the County of York. Iappoint Martin William Charlesworth, manufacturer, of Holly Lodge,Barford, and Arthur James Wyatt, chartered accountant, of 65, BeckStreet, Barford, executors and trustees of this my will. I give anddevise all my estate and effects real and personal of which I may diepossessed or entitled to unto the said Martin William Charlesworth andArthur James Wyatt upon trust for the following purposes to be carriedout by them under the following instructions, namely:--As soon after mydeath as is conveniently possible they will sell all my real estate,either by private treaty or by public auction; they shall sell all mypersonal property of any nature whatsoever; they shall sell my businessat Mallathorpe's mill in Barford as a going concern to any privatepurchaser or to any company already in existence or formed for thepurpose of acquiring it; and they shall collect all debts and moneys dueto me. And having sold and disposed of all my property, real andpersonal, and brought all the proceeds of such sales and of suchcollection of debts and moneys into one common fund they shall first payall debts owing by me and all legal duties and expenses arising out ofmy death and this disposition of my property and shall then distributemy estate as follows, namely: to each of themselves, Martin WilliamCharlesworth and Arthur James Wyatt, they shall pay the sum of fivethousand pounds; to my sister-in-law, Ann Mallathorpe, they shall paythe sum of ten thousand pounds; to my nephew, Harper John Mallathorpe,they shall pay the sum of ten thousand pounds; to my niece, NestaMallathorpe, they shall pay the sum of ten thousand pounds. And as tothe whole of the remaining residue they shall pay it in one sum to theMayor and Corporation of the borough of Barford in the County of York tobe applied by the said Mayor and Corporation at their own absolutediscretion and in any manner which seems good to them to theestablishment, furtherance and development of technical and commercialeducation in the said borough of Barford. Dated this sixteenth day ofNovember, 1906.

  Signed by the testator in the presence of us both present at the same time who in his presence } JOHN MALLATHORPE and in the presence of each other have hereunto set our names as witnesses.

  HENRY GAUKRODGER, 16, Florence Street, Barford, Mill Manager.

  CHARLES WATSON MARSHALL, 56, Laburnum Terrace, Barford, Cashier."

  As the last word left his lips Pratt carefully folded up the will,slipped it into an inner pocket of his coat, and firmly buttoned thecoat across his chest. Then, without as much as a glance at the deadman, he left the room, and again visited the telephone box. He wasengaged in it for a few minutes. When he came out he heard steps comingup the staircase, and looking over the banisters he saw the seniorpartner, Eldrick, a middle-aged man. Eldrick looked up, and saw Pratt.

  "I hear you've been ringing me up at the club, Pratt," he said. "What isit?"

  Pratt waited until Eldrick had come up to the landing. Then he pointedto the door of the private room, and shook his head.

  "It's old Mr. Bartle, sir," he whispered. "He's in your roomthere--dead!"

  "Dead?" exclaimed Eldrick. "Dead!"

  Pratt shook his head again.

  "He came up not so long after you'd gone, sir," he said. "Everybody hadgone but me--I was just going. Wanted to see you about something I don'tknow what. He was very tottery when he came in--complained of the stairsand the fog. I took him into your room, to sit down in the easy chair.And--he died straight off. Just," concluded Pratt, "just as if he wasgoing quietly to sleep!"

  "You're sure he is dead?--not fainting?" asked Eldrick.

  "He's dead, sir--quite dead," replied Pratt. "I've rung up Dr.Melrose--he'll be here in a minute or two--and the Town Hall--thepolice--as well. Will you look at him, sir?"

  Eldrick silently motioned his clerk to open the door; together theywalked into the room. And Eldrick looked at his quiet figure and wanface, and knew that Pratt was right.

  "Poor old chap!" he murmured, touching one of the thin hands. "He was afine man in his time, Pratt; clever man! And he was very, very old--oneof the oldest men in Barford. Well, we must wire to his grandson, Mr.Bartle Collingwood. You'll find his address in the book. He's the onlyrelation the old fellow had."

  "Come in for everything, doesn't he, sir?" asked Pratt, as he took anaddress book from the desk, and picked up a sheaf of telegram forms.

  "Every penny!" murmured Eldrick. "Nice little fortune, too--a fine thingfor a young fellow who's just been called to the Bar. As a matter offact, he'll be fairly well independent, even if he never sees a brief inhis life."

  "He has been called, has he, sir?" asked Pratt, laying a telegram formon Eldrick's writing pad and handing him a pen. "I wasn't aware ofthat."

  "Called this term--quite recently--at Gray's Inn," replied Eldrick, ashe sat down. "Very promising, clever young man. Look here!--we'd bettersend two wires, one to his private address, and one to his chambers.They're both in that book. It's six o'clock, isn't it?--he might be athis chambers yet, but he may have gone home. I'll write bothmessages--you put the addresses on, and get the wire off--we must havehim down here as soon as possible."

  "One address is 53x, Pump Court; the other's 96, Cloburn Square,"remarked Pratt consulting the book. "There's an express from King'sCross at 8.15 which gets here midnight."

  "Oh, it would do if he came down first thing in the morning--leave it tohim," said Eldrick. "I say, Pratt, do you think an inquest will benecessary?"

  Pratt had not thought of that--he began to think. And while he wasthinking, the doctor whom he had summoned came in. He looked at the deadman, asked the clerk a few questions, and was apparently satisfied. "Idon't think there's any need for an inquest," he said in reply toEldrick. "I knew the old man very well--he was much feebler than hewould admit. The exertion of coming up these stairs of yours, and thecoughing brought on by the fog outside--that was quite enough. Ofcourse, the death will have to be reported in the usual way, but I haveno hesitation in giving a certificate. You've let the Town Hall peopleknow? Well, the body had better be removed to his rooms--we must sendover and tell his housekeeper. He'd no relations in the town, had he?"

  "Only one in the world that he ever mentioned--his grandson--a youngbarrister in London," answered Eldrick. "We've just been wiring to him.Here, Pratt, you take these messages now, and get them off. Then we'llsee about making all arrangements. By-the-by," he added, as Pratt movedtowards the door, "you don't know what--what he came to see me about?"

  "Haven't the remotest idea, sir," answered Pratt, readily and glibly."He died--just as I've told you--before he could tell me anything."

  He went downstairs, and out into the street, and away to the GeneralPost Office, only conscious of one thing, only concerned about onething--that he was now the sole possessor of a great secret. Theopportunity which he had so often longed for had come. And as he hurriedalong through the gathering fog he repeated and repeated a fragment ofthe recent conversation between the man who was now dead, andhimself--who remained very much alive.

  "You haven't shown it to anybody else?" Pratt had asked.

  "Neither shown it to anybody, nor mentioned it to a soul," Antony Bartlehad answered. So, in all that great town of Barford, he, Linford Pratt,he, alone out of a quarter of a million people, knew--what? Themagnitude of what he knew not only amaz
ed but exhilarated him. Therewere such possibilities for himself in that knowledge. He wanted to bealone, to think out those possibilities; to reckon up what they came to.Of one thing he was already certain--they should be, must be, turned tohis own advantage.

  It was past eight o'clock before Pratt was able to go home to hislodgings. His landlady, meeting him in the hall, hoped that his dinnerwould not be spoiled: Pratt, who relied greatly on his dinner as his onegreat meal of the day, replied that he fervently hoped it wasn't, butthat if it was it couldn't be helped, this time. For once he wasthinking of something else than his dinner--as for his engagement forthat evening, he had already thrown it over: he wanted to give all hisenergies and thoughts and time to his secret. Nevertheless, it wascharacteristic of him that he washed, changed his clothes, ate hisdinner, and even glanced over the evening newspaper before he turned tothe real business which was already deep in his brain. But at last, whenthe maid had cleared away the dinner things, and he was alone in hissitting-room, and had lighted his pipe, and mixed himself a drop ofwhisky-and-water--the only indulgence in such things that he allowedhimself within the twenty-four hours--he drew John Mallathorpe's willfrom his pocket, and read it carefully three times. And then he began tothink, closely and steadily.

  First of all, the will was a good will. Nothing could upset it. It wasabsolutely valid. It was not couched in the terms which a solicitorwould have employed, but it clearly and plainly expressed JohnMallathorpe's intentions and meanings in respect to the disposal of hisproperty. Nothing could be clearer. The properly appointed trustees wereto realize his estate. They were to distribute it according to hisspecified instructions. It was all as plain as a pikestaff. Pratt, whowas a good lawyer, knew what the Probate Court would say to that will ifit were ever brought up before it, as he did, a quite satisfactory will.And it was validly executed. Hundreds of people, competent to do so,could swear to John Mallathorpe's signature; hundreds to Gaukrodger's;thousands to Marshall's--who as cashier was always sending his signaturebroadcast. No, there was nothing to do but to put that into the hands ofthe trustees named in it, and then....

  Pratt thought next of the two trustees. They were well-known men in thetown. They were comparatively young men--about forty. They were men ofgreat energy. Their chief interests were in educational matters--that,no doubt, was why John Mallathorpe had appointed them trustees. Wyatthad been plaguing the town for two years to start commercial schools:Charlesworth was a devoted champion of technical schools. Pratt knew howthe hearts of both would leap, if he suddenly told them that enormousfunds were at their disposal for the furtherance of their schemes. Andhe also knew something else--that neither Charlesworth nor Wyatt had thefaintest, remotest notion or suspicion that John Mallathorpe had evermade such a will, or they would have moved heaven and earth, pulled downNormandale Grange and Mallathorpe's Mill, in their efforts to find it.

  But the effect--the effect of producing the will--now? Pratt, likeeverybody else, had been deeply interested in the Mallathorpe affair.There was so little doubt that John Mallathorpe had died intestate, suchabsolute certainty that his only living relations were his deceasedbrother's two children and their mother, that the necessary proceedingsfor putting Harper Mallathorpe and his sister Nesta in possession of theproperty, real and personal, had been comparatively simple and speedy.But--what was it worth? What would the two trustees have been able tohand over to the Mayor and Corporation of Barford, if the will had beenfound as soon as John Mallathorpe died? Pratt, from what he rememberedof the bulk and calculations at the time, made a rapid estimate. As nearas he could reckon, the Mayor and Corporation would have got aboutL300,000.

  That, then--and this was what he wanted to get at--was what these youngpeople would lose if he produced the will. Nay!--on second thoughts, itwould be much more, very much more in some time; for the manufacturingbusiness was being carried on by them, and was apparently doing as wellas ever. It was really an enormous amount which they would lose--andthey would get--what? Ten thousand apiece and their mother a like sum.Thirty thousand pounds in all--in comparison with hundreds of thousands.But they would have no choice in the matter. Nothing could upset thatwill.

  He began to think of the three people whom the production of this willwould dispossess. He knew little of them beyond what common gossip hadrelated at the time of John Mallathorpe's sudden death. They had livedin very quiet fashion, somewhere on the outskirts of the town, untilthis change in their fortunes. Once or twice Pratt had seen Mrs.Mallathorpe in her carriage in the Barford streets--somebody had pointedher out to him, and had observed sneeringly that folk can soon adaptthemselves to circumstances, and that Mrs. Mallathorpe now gave herselfall the airs of a duchess, though she had been no more than a hospitalnurse before she married Richard Mallathorpe. And Pratt had also seenyoung Harper Mallathorpe now and then in the town--since the goodfortune arrived--and had envied him: he had also thought what a strangething it was that money went to young fellows who seemed to have noparticular endowments of brain or energy. Harper was a very ordinaryyoung man, not over intelligent in appearance, who, Pratt had heard, wasoften seen lounging about the one or two fashionable hotels of theplace. As for the daughter, Pratt did not remember having ever set eyeson her--but he had heard that up to the time of John Mallathorpe's deathshe had earned her own living as a governess, or a nurse, or somethingof that sort.

  He turned from thinking of these three people to thoughts about himself.Pratt often thought about himself, and always in one direction--thedirection of self-advancement. He was always wanting to get on. He hadnobody to help him. He had kept himself since he was seventeen. Hisfather and mother were dead; he had no brothers or sisters--the onlyrelations he had, uncles and aunts, lived--some in London, some inCanada. He was now twenty-eight, and earning four pounds a week. He hadimmense confidence in himself, but he had never seen much chance ofescaping from drudgery. He had often thought of asking Eldrick & Pascoeto give him his articles--but he had a shrewd idea that his requestwould be refused. No--it was difficult to get out of a rut. And yet--hewas a clever fellow, a good-looking fellow, a sharp, shrewd, able--andhere was a chance, such a chance as scarcely ever comes to a man. Hewould be a fool if he did not take it, and use it to his own best andlasting advantage.

  And so he locked up the will in a safe place, and went to bed, resolvedto take a bold step towards fortune on the morrow.