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Page 11
"That is singular," remarked Cramp; "but it does not show us the way
out of the difficulty; on the contrary, that increases. _Somebody_--I
don't for an instant suppose Mr. Jacob Bond--in proving the will must
have sworn that, to the best of their knowledge and belief, those were
the real, which are only copies of the signatures."
"True--and such a mistake was extremely characteristic of my uncle,
who performed many strange acts before he was known to be insane. This
was doubtless one of them."
"But _where_ is the original?" inquired the man of business.
"Heaven knows! I cannot find it; but I am not the less assured of its
existence."
"Then we must persist in our plea of the truth of the document in
Doctors Commons."
"Certainly not," said Sarah; "you must not persist in a falsehood in
my name. If you do, I shall rise up in court, and contradict you! I
feel it my duty, having seen the will, to state my firm belief that it
is a copy of the original will, and nothing more."
Poor Mr. Cramp was dreadfully annoyed. He could, he thought, manage
all sorts of clients. He reasoned, he proved, he entreated, he got
her counsel to call upon her, but all was in vain. She would go
into court, she said, herself, if her counsel deserted her. She
would _not_ give up the cause; she would plead for the sake of her
father's honour. She was well assured that the real will was still
in existence, and would be discovered--found--sooner or later--though
not, perhaps, till she was in her grave.
The senior counsel was so provoked at what he called his client's
obstinacy, that he threw up his brief, and the junior took advantage
of the circumstance to make a most eloquent speech, enlarging upon
the singularity of no appeal having been previously made by the
plaintiff--of the extraordinary disappearance of the witnesses--of the
straight-forward, simple, and beautiful truthfulness of the defendant;
in short, he moved the court to tears, and laid the foundation of his
future fortune. But after that day, Sarah Bond and her niece, Mabel,
were homeless and houseless. Yet I should not say that; for the gates
of a jail gaped widely for the "miser's daughter," but only for a few
days; after which society rang with praises, loud and repeated, of Mr.
Alfred Bond's liberality, who had discharged the defendant's costs as
well as his own. In truth, people talked so much and so loudly about
this, that they altogether forgot to inquire what had become of Sarah
and Mabel.
CHAPTER IV.
The clergyman of the parish was their first visiter. He assisted
them to look into the future. It was, he who conveyed to Sarah Bond
Alfred's determination that she should be held scatheless. The good
man delivered this information with the manner of a person who feels
he comes with good news, and expects it will be so received; but
Sarah Bond could only regard Alfred as the calumniator of her father's
memory, the despoiler of her rights. The wild expression of joy in
Mabel's face, as she threw herself on her aunt's bosom, gave her to
understand that she ought to be thankful for what saved her from a
prison.
Words struggled for utterance. She who had borne so much and so
bravely, was overcome. Again and again she tried to speak, but for
some hours she fell from one fainting fit into another. She had
borne up against all disasters, until the power of endurance was
overwhelmed; and now, she was attacked by an illness so violent, that
it threatened dissolution. At this very time, when she needed so much
sympathy, a stern and severe man, in whom there was no pity, a man who
had received large sums of money from Miss Bond as a tradesman, and
whose account had stood over from a particular request of his own,
believing that all was gone, and that he should lose, took advantage
of her illness to levy an execution upon the goods, and to demand a
sale.
At this time her reason had quite deserted her, and poor Mabel was
incapable of thought beyond her duty to her aunt, which made her
remove her to a cottage-lodging from the turmoil of the town. No one
distinctly knew, except Mabel, why Sarah Bond was so attached to
the old furniture, and few cared. And yet more than one kind heart
remembered how she had liked the "rubbishing things," and bought in
several, resolved that, if she recovered, and ever had "a place of
her own again," they would offer them for her acceptance. Her illness
was so tedious, that except the humble curate and the good rector,
her inquirers had fallen off--for long sickness wears out friends.
Some would pause as they passed the cottage window, where the
closely-pinned down curtain told of the caution and quiet of sickness;
and then they would wonder how poor Miss Bond was; and if they entered
the little passage to inquire, they could scarcely recognise in the
plainly-dressed, jaded, bent girl, whose eyes knew no change but
from weeping to watching, and watching to weeping, the buoyant and
beautiful heiress whose words were law, and who once revelled in
luxury. The produce of the sale--though everything, of course, went
below its value--left a small surplus, after all debts and expenses
were paid; which the clergyman husbanded judiciously, and gave in
small portions to Mabel. Alfred Bond himself called to offer any
assistance that might be required, which Mabel declined, coldly and at
once.
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