DUPED.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7422, 7 June 1902, Page 3

DUPED.

"Yea," «aidl Mr Thomas Scrivener, solicitor, 1 of Lincoln's Inn Fieldß, a little musingly, "I was completely taken in over the Middleton wilL It was an audacious toheme in "which tihere were a couple of xascals, a. clever woman, end an ass. I was the ass, unfortunately— to be deluded! by that little minx. Her tears, her simulated pathos, her pretty indignation against the ~ fellow whom she dabbed an impostor, and 'the other man, whom she said was her brutal husband 1 To think of this trio of thieves robbing me to the tune of £500! F«ngb.l. -•-■• • ■ • • Mr Scrivener was the trusted solicitor of Captain Middleton oi Hornby Hall, Surrey. The old man had' lived the life of a misanthrope, 'but had died leaving a large fortune. In ibis will ihe was found to ihave devised IJhe whole of his money — amounting to about £40,000— t0 John, the son of his old friend, George Aspinall. John Aspinall had not been seen in any elf the walks of civilisation, for over twelve years. He had been one of society's fail- \ ores— a mere ne'er-do-well who, without cay grave inherent vices, had simply fallen out of the ranks. Rumours bad come from time to time of las death, and Mr Scrivener had brought jhimnAlf to the conclusion that the ultimate destination of Captain. MiddJeton's money would be— for he knew of no relatives—the Court of Chancery. • ! "A Mr John Aspinall, sir, to see you I" The clerk's voice interrupted the lawyer •s be was pondering this possible fate of the forty thousand pounds. The John Aspinall who presented himself did not prepossess the solicitor. He was a mixture of a flash valet and a vulgar, sporting man. He 'had ■ secured the " veneer of <t£e one role only to lose it in the accretions of the o^her. "So the old buffer has pegged out and . I've got the anoney at last!" he exclaimed, after a prefatory greeting. This rather surprised Mr Scrivener, who knew that John Aspinall had absolutely no reason whatever for assuming that the captain's wealth would come to him. \ "How long," added the visitor, "before ] yon can settle' the job? To tell the truth, this London air gets me by the throat." . Mr Svrivener mentally soliloquised that if the fellow were <not careful something of a much, more material character would . get him by the throat. He mildly hinted that there were many necessary preliminaries to be gone through —first there were the absolute proofs of ibis identity to be established. Mr Aspinall seemed to be astounded at thin and commenced to bluster. "Confound! you, sir, don't you believe me? Ain't I Jack Aspinall?" And he advanced menacingly toward the solicitor. "Yes, yes — I have no ■cause at present ' to doubt you on that point," expostulated the threatened lawyer' in a mild, deprecatory manner. •• Well, then," said the man, " get on with, the job/ as quick as you can! 11l bring up" what you want in the morning. But in the meantime I want some oof. A man. can't live on fogs alone! You'd better advance me a hundred!" To advance a hundred pounds to an unddentified claimant! A cool request, cerWnlyl "Look you 'ere, sir," exclaimed Mr Scrivener's visitor on > receiving a refusal, . "when this business is settled you quit my employ! I ain't going to have a .. lawyer who doubts my honour." And the man, with a look of mingled anger and content, took himself off. ." Another Mr John Aspinall wishes to see you, sir!" exclaimed the discreet clerk a couple of days later. Mr John Aspinall, the first had not yet made a second appearsince. Mr Scrivener exhibited no surprise to his clerk. " Show him up !" he said shortly. This man' was of a very different character. He spoke and acted like a gentleman. " What, I wonder," said he, " could have Induced poor old Middleton to leave me this money? Of course it will come very useful, bnt why did he think of me as his heir t ? I have heard a story of his having paid court to my mother in his younger days ; but to benefit the 6on of your successful rival is the kind of revenge you read of in romances, not the revenge taken in real life." Mr Scrivener liked this man. He had been educated ; his manners were not mere veneer. Besides, he knew something of Captain Middleton and admitted the absence of all claim to the old man's consideration. . "Of course," pursued this visitor, "you will desire me to establish my identity in proper form. That I will do in the morning if you like. I will bring all my papers and place myself entirely in your hands." This was said with such absolute faith that Mr Scrivener's amour propre was J touched. Here at least was a man of appreciation. Not a word was said about the advancing of money — only a delicate hint that he would prefer that the matter was expedited. How could he for a moment fcave thought that the other claimant was •ught but a rascal? After all, Mr Scrivener pondered, the evidence of a public school i education never quite disappears. Here ■ was this John Aspinall, who had probably Toughed it in every part of the world, still retaining the evidences of Marlborough day** John Aspjisill i&o jecpnd left Ihis address

in Russell Square and he and the lawyer parted on very good terms. " A Mrs John Aspinall to see you," said the clerk to Mr Scrivener. Mr Scrivener was intent upon the papers which the second John Aspinall had placed in his care. Everything appeared all right and aboveboard. Mr Scrivener came to the conclusion that this was the real Simon Pure, and that the first applicant ougßt to be given in charge. "Whew!" he ejaculated at the clerk's announcement. . Not -a word had been said to him by either man of the existence of a Mrs Aspinall. What could this mean? A pale, gentle-faced, petite, pretty young lady was 'bowing to him* He bowed in return and then placed asea l t for her. "I have heard of the large sum which has been left by my late husband." "Late husband!" Mr Scrivener looked at her intently. She was awayed in very delicate half-mourning. i " Whait a dainty relief," he reflected, "to this sombre office !" " And I thought," proceeded the visitor, " that I ought to come and place myself in your hands. My friends know you by reputation and 1 'have thus advised me." Thomas Scrivener was a sensible man, but he was, like most men, sensitive to compliment, and particularly to compliments from a charming woman. "And when did your husband die?" he asked after a while. "Well," said Mrs Aspinall, a little hesitatingly, " I'm afraid I cannot say ! I ought to mention that pun married life was not hajjpy. Do not think it was my fault ! If ever . womani. loved a man I loved . my ihusr band. At last"— her voice itrembled and tears rose to her eyes— "he left me. He left me under painful conditions. I might have starved. Poor fellow," she added, with a Woman's inconsistent irrelevance, "I am afraid- he now lies in a grave at Buenos Ayres !" -Her handkerchief was in use and for ia moment her frame was shaken; by emotion. ' . J Rising, she placed certain lette*s before Mr Scrivener. They were, old love letters, a few feeing signed " John ; Aspmall," the others bearing the rollicking signature of "Jack." Another document was a carefully prepared marriage certificate. They 'had been married in 1891, and this 1 was the end of 1897. "A life Wasted," thought the impressionable solicitor, "in six short years 1" Then he said quietly, " I ought to tell you that two John Aspinalls Ihave already claimed the money." "Two John Aspinalls!" she exclaimed. " What do you mean ? Good heavens !" she added, with dramatic intensity. "Then after all he may foe alive, sir !" And she turned eager, entreating eyes full upon him. " Qne must be an impostor, the other may be my (husband. I will not, dare not, live with that man again ! I will renounce all, everything, to foe freed from ihian ! He <was wantonly cruel to me. My few years of married life made <up one sad story of horror ! Yet, sir," with a wayward' chaiftge in tone, "he is rich now, andi I will claim my rights. He Ihas abused my confidence — he has cruelly ill-treated me. He can never claim from- me the obedience of a wife ; but you, sir, can see that I !have my position as John Aspinall's wife recognised." Before she ihad left him the middle-aged solicitor had resolved I tha* this sweet little woman should not be wronged. "You're a scoundrel and a thief 1" The speaker was Jotou Aspinall the second. The recipient of the epithets was John, Aspinall tfhe first. "Who are you?" added the irritated man, impetuously 'brushing aside the lawyer's restraining hand. The^scene was being enacted in, the lawyer's office, where the two men had accidentally met. "Who are you that dar«s •personate me?" The fellow looked like a hunted cur. Hw made toward the doo* and bolted into the streflfc Mr Scrivener would 1 have had the police after him had there not been serious business in hand. He penned a note '< and despatched it by his clerk. He and John Aspinall then attended to the papers. Yes, all was right— the' claimant's identity was established to the fullest extent. . At this moment a gentle tap was heard at the door. That was Mr Scrivener's cue. "But what about your wife, Mr Aspinall?" he 'asked with forced calmness. There was a coarse laugh, and succeeding it was the brutal exclamation — so ill-at-tuned, to the apparent refinement of the man— "Oh, she's all right, I suppose!" " Do you care whether I am or not,. John Aspinall?" came an accusing voice, strangely stern — as the lawyer thought — for so delicate a lady. John Aspinall turned pale. There was no mad scene of recrimination. "John Aspinall, you behaved like a cur to me! You had the best years of my life ! You threw me aside for your own sordid purpose! You left me to starve!" He made no attempt to ward off this .terrible accusation. •' "You are now wealthy," she proceeded, " and I demand that you shall not. molest me ! I also demand' a portion of your ,wealthi" mere was no bartering, no chaffering. John Aspinall had 'to do his duty to one whom the lawyer deemed a wronged, sweet woman. He agreed with Mr Scrivener tihat her share of the £40,000 should be £10,000. In addition he consented to Mr Scrivener's* making her out a cheque for £200 on account, and at the same time induced the solicitor to pass him one for a similar amount. Mr Thomas Scrivener astounded his staff —he arrived at his office only in time to sign the letters for the night mail. The chief clerk was palpably disturbed at his absence. ■ ' , He walked into his office humming a tune. Had not the dainty Mrs Aspinall waited upon him at his home that morning and besought a cheque for £100? What a sweet woman she wasl And how born to trouble! Here was a sister of hers now taken ill, and she had to hurry away at once to her. Fortunately she allowed him to give her a late breakfast and to see her off at Charing Cross. " May I have a word with you; sir?" said the chief clerk. "Go on!" exclaimed his employer, petulant at being disturbed. "Well, sir, I want to tell you that, according to your request, I took that Staffordshire client to dine. While we were seated at the Luoullus Hotel I noticed opj posite to us Mrs Aspinall and both claimants to the estate, the husband and the impostor. I was attracted to them by hearing the impostor exclaim, 'Will Scrivener bleed much?" at which Mrs Aspinall laughed the loudest." The last post was at this moment handed to Mr Scrivener. It contained only^one letter, and that came from Dover : "Dear Mr -Scrivener : My husband, myself and my brother are now on the way to Spain. My husband's name is not Jack Aspinall,' but Fred Sprawling. He was the first of the two John Aspinalls ; my (brother was the second. Your £500 will come in useful, but please ask your clerk to refrain from taking his dinner where ladies and gentlemen are in the habit of meeting. But for his unexpected presence there you would not have lost sight of us for a few weeks. And I did so appreciate the companionship ! Yes, Jack Aspinall is really dead, and was buried at Buenos Ayres. I esteem your courtesy, and I know that your chivalry will not allow you to cherish animosity. — Yours in gratitude, BELLA SPRAWLING. "P.S.— How do you like the marriage certificate? As a fact, we were married in the name of Aspinall in 1897— science and skill turned that 1897 into 1891." Thomas Scrivener groaned, signed his letters, and went home ia a meditative mood. ,