THE WRONG ROAD

Evening Star, Issue 7496, 14 April 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE WRONG ROAD

BY HOOK OK CROOK.

[By M.u k Autui/h Griffiths, Author of ' FajvT and Loosk,' ' Locked Ur,' Etc.] (All Rights limned.) VOL. 11.-CIIAPTER XXXIV. THE SUIT VKOORfSSJiS. MrTinsonhadnot been idle. From the day he had seen Lady Lezaire and read Sir Percy's confession, he had devoted himself to getting up the case. Certain preliminary facts must bo established before he could move an inch, and his first energies were concentrated on these. Various certificates, as I have said, were attached to the documents found in Sir Percy's despatch-box. These were verified copies of tho Louisville register, drawn up in the usual way on printed forms belonging to the oflice and signed by the registrar. Mr Tinson had little doubt that they were authentic, but ho deemed it advisable to despatch a clerk to Nova Scotia to compare them with the originals. Tho points in the case were such as were likely to strike every lawyer alike, and this comparison had commended itself also to Mr Davis. Another point was the need for identifying the first wife, and Mr Tinson's clerk, as well as Mr Davis's agent, had been instructed to make inquiries about Priscilla Spary. These were matters which Mr Tinson, fully occupied with the management of a large business, was obliged to delegate to a subordinate. But there was one more which he could attend to himself. Little less important than this documentary evidence was the identification of tho new claimant. Unless it could be clearly proved that Hubert Podifat was the boy whom Sir Percy had acknowledged as his son, the whole case fell to the ground. There was only one person living who could swear to Hubert, and this was the aged Mr Harvey, who was head of the firm in Sir Percy's time. The old gentleman lived at Brighton, enjoying the late autumn : of a long life, a last dicker of vitality—a sort of St. Martin's summer—at that bright and joyous retreat. He was very infirm, and lived the ascetic regular life of a confirmed invalid. Two hours in a bath-chair about mid-day ; two hours in a victoria up and down the King's road and the Madeira drive in the afternoon ; a rigorously careful diet; and the absence of all emotions, was the unvarying rule of his life. But he was etill clear-headed, and he took an old man's interest in any business matters in which he had been himself associated. Mr Tinson was well aware of this, and gladly availed himself of lib senior's lights and advice in all that dealt with the past, With regard to Hubert, he was anxious, if possible, to obtain some recognition from Mr Harvey by surprise. Of course it was easy enough "to let the old man into the whole secret, and afek him point-blank whether he remembered the boy and under what circumstances. If he could bring the young fellow into Mr Harvey's presence unexpectedly, and win from any spontaneous acknowledgment of his identity, it would immensely strengthen the case. Still greater value would attach to it if this recognition took place in the presence of others.

This idea gained so much favor with Mr Tinson that he set himself to execute it carefully and formally. An application was made to a Judge in chambers to appoint commissioners to take evidence iu a certain matter, and two learned but not overworked barristers were instructed accordingly. They were to go to Brighton, call on Mr Harvey, and put certain questions to him in the case of Leznire v. St. Evelyn. The next step was to bring Hubert Podifat' upon the scfjne. This required some circumspection, but was not really difficult for a young man fond of pleasure. It was an understood thing that some employment was to be found for Hubert, and that he was to leave the Hall before the return of the St. Evelyns. Mr Tinson, who was in regular correspondence with Lady Lcziire, mentioned to her his wish to bring young Podifat and Mr Harvey together, but reminded her that it must take place at Brighton, as Mr Harvey was too infirm to travel. It would be necessary, therefore, to get the young man there casually, as it seemed : and the best way to accomplish this, wrote Mr Tinson, would be to send liim down to see how he would like to be bound to a veterinary surgeon at Brighton. Hubert Podifat had often heard of Brighton, and jumped at :hc idea of visiting it. Mr Tinson met him, nnd went through the form of introducing him to tho great Mr Vasey, who followed the double profession of riding-master and "vet." Hubert's future employment was to follow whichever of these two lines he preferred. "You can think it over, Podifat," said Mr Tinson, "and come round to-morrow morning and give me the answer. I am staying at Royal Crescent. Come punctually at eleven, as I shall be going out. Here is one of my cards—send it up when you arrive." Next morning Mr Harvey was in his armchair at the bay-window overlooking the sea, and talking past business with Mr Tinson, " I forgot to tell you," said the latter, "I have a consultation this morning. I met Loader and Perrymore yesterday in the King's Road, and they promised to look in. Do you mind my seeing them here ? " "Not at all,"'said the cheery old gentleman, " if you don't mind talking before me. I love to hear what's going on." The two counsel were introduced in due form, and while they were still interchanging civilities with the veteran solicitor, Mr Harvey's man came up with a card to Mr Tinson. " To see you, sir." "I beg your pardon, Mr Harvey," said Tinson, turning apologetically, "but a young fellow has called with some important papers. May he bring them up ?" "By all means. Pray make yourself at home here." Next minute Hubert Podifat entered. Mr Tinson rose and took him to the second window, where he held him in a strong light facing Mr Harvey for two or three minutes or more. "That will do," he said, as he showed him to the door, where he added in a low roice : "Sit down in the-dining-room, will you ? I may want you again." " Here, here, Tinson ! " cried Mr Harvey excitedly. " Who was that young man ?" The bait had evidently been taken. "I have seen him before, I am sure," weut on Mr Harvey. "Does he remind you of anyone?" and Mr Tinson, as he spoke, looked significantly at the two lawyers. " It is the boy himself ; I know him perfectly. His name is ' then he checked himself suddenly—" but I had forgotten ; I promised to say nothing about it. Only it is so long ago, and the principal party has been dead and gone these years." "Sir Percy Lezaire, in fact?" Mr Harvey nodded. "As you know, I need not mind speaking. That young fellow's name is, or used to be, Hubert Podifat—of that I am satisfied. I never forget a face, old as I am." Mr Tinson burst out laughing, and honestly confessed tho whole stratagem, explaining in detail the exact position of affairs. Mr Harvey expressed himself perfectly willing to assist the law; he was duly sworn, and the evidence taken down by the two commissioners, Hubert Podifat being recalled to the drawing-room to be positively identified as the lad whom he had seen with Sir Percy Lezaire. What Sir Percy had said of the lad's parentage and near relationship to himself was also sworn to by old Mr Harvey, but not in Hubert's presence. So far as the identification of the claimant and the tracing of his movements from boyhood to the present time, the case was perfectly clear. Thus the first important step was secured. Satisfactory news soon followed from beyond the Atlantic—the certificates had been found to tally exactly with the entries in the registers; a visit to Canso Straits established the existence of the Sparys, and the story of Priscilla's elopement was still remembered, although no relations survived. This was the report Mr Tinson received. Something very similar reached Mr Davis, and through him St. Evelyn. Yet the Colonel was by no means disposed to throw up the sponge. He still talked big.

" They must turn us out, neck and crop," he said. "I will go for nothing less than an order of Court." They were back at Straddlethorpe now, and their reappearance at such a time, when the ownership was still in doubt, and Mrs St. Evelyn's rights strongly contested, told in his disfavor. It would have been better taste to have stayed away. Lady Lezaire had left; the claimant, Hubert Podifat, was content to remain in the background. Why did St. Evelyn parade himself so publicly at the place he had gained by such questionable means? This was what many pcoplo said, especially the Wyr.dhamParkers, and the strong faction that was Hostile as ever. But the Colonel was not to be put down by clamor, to be driven out by any unofficial irresponsible opinions. He meant to hold his own stoutly to the last, yielding hia ground upon compulsion only inch by inch, and resisting to the uttermost this new and equally wicked attempt to ruin him. " It Rhall go into Court," he said, " into every Court. If one is against us I'll try the one above, and so on to the very highest." M r Davis warned him. " Think of the enormous expenses*." " They will come out of the estate." "If you win, yes. But if you lose ?" " What else can I do? Am I not bound to defend my wife's interests, my children's inheritance ? Of course it's a serious matter. There's the wickedness of it. The whole thing is a monstrous fraud, a direct attempt at robbery. Either way it must cost Us thousands." " That's why I have always recommended compromise." "Would you compromise with a thief who had you by the throat?" " Well, I don't know ; but if my life was in danger I think I should give in." " I have been brought up to fight," said the Colonel, " against any odds, and that's what I mean to do now." ! CHAPTER XXXV". HCJiKRT SHOWS HCIIT. It had been Mr Tinson's wish to keep Hubert Podifat as long as possible in the dark with regard to his future prospects. There was manifest injustice in encouraging hopes that might prove delusive. The young man wa3 not of a sort to bear good or evil fortune philosophically. It was wisest to postpone all news of the one until it became reasonably probable—to minimise the other by making no premature announcement. f!ut when the case was ripe for trial, and the first application to eject was to be made in open court, secrecy was no longer possible, the whole story would become public property through the law reports. Mr Tinson felt that his client had now a right to know what was being done in his behalf. All this time Hubert had remained at Brighton. The kind of life he led there was far from displeasing to him. He liked his work at Mr Vasey's, so far as it was possible for him to like any work. It was not hard. The study of horseflesh was of the practical kind, and ho was alread)' well grounded in the subject. Veterinary science, however, occupied but little of Hubert's time. He was such an excellent horseman that he could make himself very useful to Mr Vasey, who did more as a riding-master than as a vet. Hubert was soon utilised in the school, and presently, when the Brighton season was at its height, he was intrusted with a "ride"—a troop of joyous young ladies studying equitation, whom he escorted along the King's Road and sometimes as far as the Downs. " Hubert Podifat ?" answered the foreman of the yard when Mr Tinson inquired for him. " He's out with a class—l expect for the last time,"

"Why, how? or why do you expect that ? " asked the hwyer eagerly, wondering how the news had travelled. " Has he said he was going to leave ?" " No fear. It's we are going to leave him. The governor's downright mad with him, and swears he'll give him the sack," " What has he done?" " Why, what d'ye think, sir ? This very morning he bucketed our brown mare along the Dyke Road forty miles an hour, riding a match with one of the pupils. The girl let out at dinner-time, and her father, old Fieldus the chemist, has been round to complain." " Is tho horse injured ? We may make that up to you " "'Tain't only that—that's the smallest | part of it. They say—only I can't quite believe it-that the devil's imp has been making sheep's eyes at the girl; and what's more, that the girl don't half mind." "Well, they're both young. It wasn't right, perhaps, but " " Right! Him to buckle up to Rebecca Fieldus ! An oidy child. The old man's worth L 40.000, they say, and it'll all coino to her. D'ye suppose old Fieldus 'd suffer it, that he'd stand to a match between his daughter and one of our lads ? 'Tain't natural. And look at the harm it'll do our business. We want our lads to keep themselves to themsplves, to know their station and keep it, or who'd trust their girls to our rides?" <l And you think Mr Vasoy will want to send Fodifafc away ?" " I'm sure of it. He's no great catch. A loose fish, I fancy ; too fond of the west pier at nights, and in and out of the Magpie bar all day. But there's tho governor, and I think I hear the horses in the yard." Mr Vasey, d, thick-set, red-faced, middleaged man, with the air of a gentleman's coachman out of livery, had gone out to meet the returning ride. He stood iu the centre of the yard with his legs wide apart, and fingering a stout hunting-crop in rather a menacing fashion. " Here, you, Podifat!" he cried out, and the lad having dismounted, approached rather defiantly, with less, as Mr Tinson thought, of his customary slouch. "What's this about the brown mare ? I'll teach you, you young cub " " Don't touch me," answered Hubert angrily, springing lightly back a step or two. "No one shall lay a hand on me. I'll do for you, or anyone who dares strike me." " Why, Podifat!" interposed Mr Tinson. " Keep your temper. This won't do." " No ; it won't do. I'm not the sort to bo knocked about by them." " You rascal, do you dare mutinise in my yard ? You've bred mischief ever since you entered it, and now you've foundered one of my best horses and insulted one of my best customers," went on Mr Vasey, rery loud and blustering. '' Get out, before I break this crop on your evil, black-muzzled mug !" " Don't fret yourself," said Hubert, now mocking and* impudent. "I'll go of my own accord. I've had enough of your dirty yard and filthy jobs. I'm a gentleman, as he knows," pointing to Mr Tinson, "far too good for your blackguard business. Stand back ! Yah ! " Next minute he was in the street, closely followed by Mr Tinson, who was not a little surprised and put out at what had occurred. " You bad better come as far as my hotel," said the lawyer. " I hare a good deal to say to you, particularly after what 7. have jußt seen and heard." " I'm not goiDg back there, not for^Mobodj-," Hubert said sulkily, interpreting Mr Tinson's words his own way. " That's as may be," replied Mr Tinson, stiflty. " I don't quite see what's to be done with you. If you won't work " " Why should I work ?" " What are you to livo on if you don't?" " On what's coming to mo. I know. ' This conlirmed Mr Tinßon's first suspicions that Hubert somehow had gained an inkling of what might be in store for him. " What do you know ? " " Never mind. Only I'm fly. I'm not to be humbugged. I know my rights." "You know a great deal more than anyone else does, then. You have no rights as yet " It was no good beating about the bush. They were now seated in Mr Tinson's room, Hubert, at his own request, before a large tankard of " dog's noso," and the time for some sort of explanation had arrived. "No rights. Only expectations which may never be realised. Remember, there's many a slip " " When will it be settled ?" "Not for months—a year. And then,perhaps, against you after all." " I don't believe it. I'm bound to ' cop.' The chances are all on our side." "I cannot imagine how you've heard that. Who's put such notions into your head? It's very wrong to mislead you. Nothing is certain. On the contrary "

Hubert looked dogged and unconvinced. " Well, we won't waste tithe in arguing over probabilities. The chief point is, what are you to do until we can see our way more clearly ? I had hoped you would have stayed on here with Mr Vasey, but I suppose that's out of the question now." Hubert made no reply, but his set teeth and sullen look showed plainly what he thought. V Where are you to go ? How are we to " keep you out of mischief ? Mr Tinson would have added, but forbore. "I don't dislike this place. It's only Vasey—he's a mean hound." "You ought really to be preparing yourself " Mr Tinson was musing as to the young man's possible future, but checked himself. " I mean that at your age a fellow should be trying to improvo himself. Now tell me, what sort of education have you had?" The question seemed to puzzle Hubert. " Where were you at school?" asked Mr Tinson, simplifying the question. " Market Reepham—the Free School, for a short spell." "How far did you go? Latin, Greek, the three R's ?" Hubert looked hopeless. "Can you read?" " A bit." "And write?" "On a slate." " Anything else ?" "I was put into ciphering; but I played the truant and master whopped me, and then I ran away." This was theTprcdumptive heir to a baronetcy and L 20.000 a year, "It will never do. Whatever happens, whether you win the suit or you have to make your own living, you cannot be left in such hopeless ignorance. I must find someone who takes pupils of your sort, backward and neglected youths. I hope you'll agree to that, and make the most of your opportunities. It will be for your own good." " Shall I have to leave Brighton ? I don't mind a little schooling if I may stay here." His affection for Brighton sounded suspicious. What was underneath ? Mr Tinson drew his own conclusions. This country-bred youth, with a natural bias towards vicious self-indulgence, had found some potent charms in the lower life of the gay seaside city, and was loth to surrender its pleasures. Yet as well there as elsewhere. He was a scapegrace, a ne'er-do-well, as everyone said, and Mr Tinson now knew for himself, one who would be certain to give trouhle, to kick over the traces wherever he spent the next few months. Discipline would be wasted on him, but it might bo possible to remove him some distance from temptation —and this the astute lawyer effected by placing him with a tutor at Patcham, a village two or three miles from the town. Hubert fell in with this arrangement readily enough. But it was not, as Mr Tinson thought, the awakening of a better spirit—a commendable desire to make up for lost time—that induced Hubert at five-and-twenty to go back to school. The fact was, Mr Fieldus, the father of the lovely Rebecca, resided in a snug, modern villa, surrounded by glass houses and green lawns, at Preston Park, a short mile from Hubert's new home. ( To be continued.)