MORTIMER SLUKE’S WINDFALL.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue IV, 27 July 1895, Page 100

MORTIMER SLUKE’S WINDFALL.

By

Will Lisenbee.

fT was a cold, blustery night in July. Mortimer Sluke sat by the bright fire that blazed in the open grate in his own room at the ‘White Swan,’ his head resting against the soft cushions of the chair, his eyes closed as if at peace with all the world. Though a briefless and penniless lawyer, Mortimer Sluke was not the man to waste his days and impair his digestion by worry and useless fretting. What if he were a month in arrears for his board and lodging ? Men before him had been in the same predicament and had lived to laugh at the trivial circumstance over a bottle of burgundy. Why should not fortune so favour him ? It was true the innkeeper of the ‘White Swan’ had lost much of his affability under the strain of deferred hopes and unfulfilled promises of liquidation, and there were times when there was almost a touch of insolence in mine host’s tones as he referred to uncanceled obligations, but time would remove all these petty annoyances —as it had done in numerous cases before. There was Tom Packet. Mortimer remembered his case so well now, because it was not unlike his own in respect of debts. Tom had been a schoolmate and chum of Mortimer’s—poor as a church mouse and with no prospect of getting on in the world, for he always wo"ld look on the dark side of life. ‘ Poor Tom,’ people had said, ‘heis a subject for the almhouse or the suicide’s grave,’ and it seems they had not been far wrong, for he was actually contemplating blowing out his own brains when he was interrupted in the pioceeding by the arrival cf the postman, who brought a letter announcthe death of a distant relative who had left him a fortune of nearly a million. A week from that time Tom related the circumstance at a costly banquet which he had given to a few of his old friends. But there was no relative whom Mortimer Sluke could think of just then who could be depended upon to' die at so opportune a time, ami even if they should the absence of wealth among them prec.tided all possibility of a rich inheritance coming tj him. And as to clients —well, they had been so tardy in the past that the possibility of their arrival seemed so remote as to afford no basis upon which to build prospects for the future. What then ? As if in answer to this question there came a soft rap at the door, The next moment it was opened and a woman entered —a girl rather—one whom Mortimer had seen arrive at the inn that evening and had afterwards met at the supper table. She nodded as she came in, then advancing with a graceful step, threw herself into a chair before.him.

As Mortimer's eyes dwelt upon her he saw a slender, supple figure, full of unstudied grace and energy ; a wellshaped head covered with a rebellious mass of burnt gold curls ; a face of more than passing loveliness, with a suspicion of coquetry in her glance.

She seemed perfectly a,t ease under his scrutinising gaze, and with cool deliberation removed her gloves, drew a silver card-case from a leathern hand-satchel which she carried, and extracting a delicate piece of pasteboard therefrom, tossed it upon the table at Mortimer’s side. He took up the card and read : ‘Florence Dangerfield, Rushwood Hall.’ ‘ Pardon my abrupt intrusion,’ she said, in a low, wellmodulated voice. ‘You are Mr. Mortimer Sluke, the attorney, X presume ?’ Mortimer bowed assent, a look of pleasing expectancy upon his face. • If you are not otherwise occupied just now,’ she went on, fixing a pair of very large gray eyes upon the young attorney. ' I should like to consult you regarding a matter that requires me to have the counsel of a legal adviser at once. ■ My time is yours ; I shall be only too happy to serve you, Miss Dangerfield,’ replied Mortimer, in an affable tone, throwing a degree more of stress on the ‘Miss’ than the occasion called for. A slight colouring suffused her cheek as she made a graceful inclination of the head, and the young lawyer noticed with a feeling akin to gratification that she did not correct him in the use oi the prefix, for Mortimer Sluke was one of those individuals to whom beauty is inconceivably more interesting when free from the meshes of the matrimonial net.

■ I hardly know how to begin that which 1 wish to say to you,' she continued, a faint shadow crossing the transparent beauty of her face. *ltis a subject that is painful to me, and one which I would willingly avoid if 1 could do so.’

She paused, and for some moments seemed debating as to how site should proceed. Mortimer watched her closely, a feeling of vague per-

plexity as to the object of her visit stirring in his breast, a look of undisguised admiration upon his face. A swift glance at the visitor was sufficient to convince the attorney that his prospective client was a person of ample means. The rich laces that graced her costly, closefitting gown, the gleam of diamond rings upon her white, shapely fingers, as well as her appearance and manner, all served to strengthen this conviction, and caused visions of crisp, new bank notes and divers cancelled obligations to Hit before his pleased imagination. ‘The matter of which I wish to speak,’ said the fair visitor, tapping the arm of the chair with a gold-tipped pencil, and fixing a most engaging look upon her auditor, ‘ is in reference to the very trying position in which I am placed by reason of certain provisions in a will where I am the chief beneficiary. ‘ The position imposed upon me,’ she went on, is not only very trying and disagreeable to myself, but bids fair to deprive me of certain rights and benefits which are justly mine. I am made subject to the domination of those who have no conception of justice, and who have, by their cruelty and despotism, driven me to the verge of despair. With no one of my own blood to care for me or offer protection, I am wholly at the mercy of strangers, whose selfishness and greed have made them blind to all reason and deaf to entreaty.’ She paused. Her head drooped, and there was a gleam of moisture in her eye as she lifted a delicate lace handkerchief of exquisite design to her face. Mortimer was deeply touched by these signs of distress. ‘ I shall not go over all I have endured and suffered,’ she went on, after a few moments of silence, ‘ but will give you the necessary facts as briefly as I can. A short time ago a relative of mine died, leaving a large fortune, and, being the only one who had any claim upon him, I was, of course, the chief beneficiary in the deceased’s will. But, being a somewhat strange and eccentric personage, the deceased made certain conditions and stipulations in his will by which I am made subject to the authority of others till 1 marry or attain my majority. But this is not the worst. The will also specifies that unless I shall marry before a certain date the bulk of the inheritance, which, injustice, should be mine, will go to

another. You can readily perceive the predicament I am placed in, and it is to obtain your assistance in devising some means by which I can escape the tyranny of my guardians and secure control of what is mine that I have come to you. ‘ You may think it strange that I have not laid this matter before my own attorneys, or those of my deceased relative and benefactor, but as they now have charge of my affairs and are receiving handsome fees for their seivices, and will continue to do so while the business is in their hands, you can easily see that they will not lend acceleration to any movement to deprive them of this source of revenue.’

‘ You are right,’ said Mortimer. ‘lt is not likely that they, being interested in the issue, will give you the proper advice. You certainly did a wise thing in seeking counsel from another source. I shall be happy to aid you in any way possible, and I dare say we can easily find some way out of the difficulty.’ ‘Oh, Mr. Sluke! You don’t know what relief your assurance gives me. I had grown so miserable under the strain of mental worry and ill-treatment that I have almost despaired of ever gaining even a brief respite from my troubles.’ ‘Then you must take hope,’ in a tone that was meant to be kind and reassuring. • Have you a copy of the will ? ’

‘ Unfortunately I have not —that is, as a whole. But I managed to secure a copy of that part of the will which imposes the obligations upxm me. This may give you all the information necessary. ’ ‘That will do for the present at least.’ The visitor drew from her portmanteau a large sheet of paper, written over in a delicate feminine hand, and and gave it to Mortimer. She then drew a roll of bills from the same place, and selecting five —each of a one-hundred-dollar denomination—laid them upon the table at the lawyer’s side. ‘ Please accept this as a retainer,’ she said with some confusion. ‘You must pardon me; perhaps,! should have given you this before asking your advice, but I am ignorant of business affairs. ’

Mortimer could hardly suppress a gasp as he glanced at the bills. It seemed almost a fortune to him, and for

a moment he almost lost his presence of mind. He managed to murmur something like thanks with an assurance that her manner of doing business was entirely satisfactory; and as to fees— that was a matter of minor consideration.

Unfolding the document she had given him, he read it through caiefully, He noted, with great satisfaction, that the estate willed to his fair visitor was valued at little less than a million, and the conditions imposed were plainly set forth. They were not serious ones. The first stipulated that the property, as well as the guardianship of the girl, should be in the hands of administrators and guardian therein named until she should become of age or marry, and that should she fail to marry before a certain date the bulk of the entire estate should go to another, a benefactor of the testator therein named. When he had finished reading the document, absorbed in thought, he said : ‘ Might I ask when you become of age ? ’ ‘Just one year from to-day, she said.

Mortimer knit his brows and reflected a moment. Then he asked her some questions regarding other points of the will. She replied readily, and for a half-hour the two conversed on the subject of the will and its provisions. ‘ Let me see, ’ said Mortimer, again referring to the document in his hand, ‘it is provided that you lose the bulk of the fortune unless you marry on or before the 14th. and that is this very day ■' ‘Yes,’ she responded in a faint voice. ‘ Oh, Mr. Sluke ! what shall Ido ? What can Ido?’ The young lawyer shifted un- . easily in his chair, his countenance revealing deep cogitation and perplexity. Miss Dangerfield sat toying restlessly with a trinket suspended from her bracelet. She looked very beautiful —so Mortimer thought and so would any one have thought— as she sat in the glow of the lamp, her tumbled mass of burnt gold curls making a vivid contrast to and intensifying the transparent beauty of her face.

It was some moments before the silence was broken. ‘ I can see but one way out of the unpleasant predicament,’ said Mortimer. ‘ And that is ? ’ ‘ You must be married. ’ She sat staring at him wan and aghast. He moved nervously in his chair while he slowly folded the document she had given him. ‘ Impossible ! ’ she said, with a gasp. ‘ Such a thought has never entered my head—and—why, I have not even a young gentleman friend ’ She paused abruptly, a deep blush mantling her cheek. Mortimer arose hastily and paced the room, his countenance betraying great mental perturbation. For some moments he continued thus; then, seating himself abruptly, he turned to the girl : ‘I might arrange the matter for you,’ he said, a bold resolution shaping itself in his mind. She cast a quick, questioning glance at him, but did not speak.

He glanced at the clock on the mantel. ‘lt is five minntes past eight,’ he said, slowly. ‘ln precisely three hours and fifty-five minutes you will have lost nearly a half-million dollars if you are not married.’ ‘ Yes, ’ she said, faintly. ■ Such neglect would be amazing—almost criminal, ’ he went on, feelingly. ‘As your adviser I feel it my duty to save you from such disaster. You must be mirried this very night!’ He paused. She sat looking at him white and breathless, a nervous twitching about her lips. ‘ Miss Dangerfield, will you marry me ?’

Mortimer Sluke arose as he pronounced the words and stood looking at her calmly, though there was a strange fluttering at his heart. He had been thinking rapidly before he spoke. He was but a briefless and penniless lawyer—he was her adviser , he had much to gain and nothing to lose. A little gasp came from the girl’s lips ; a pallor swept over her face; she made a quick, nervous gesture with her hand. , ‘Surely—you—you cannot mean it I’ she said. ‘ Why not ?’ he replied, drawing near. ‘lt is a simple act of compliance with an imposed obligation. I have suggested it as the surest means of accomplishing your emancipation from persecution as well as securing that of yours which would go to another.’ She did not reply. She sat staring vacantly before her, looking very helpless and very beautiful. Mortimer continued :

‘ Should you choose to heed my counsel in this matter you will need have no fears that I will in any manner abuse the trust placed in me.’ ‘I—I was not thinking of that,’ she said, hurriedly. ‘ I have already learned that you are honourable and trustworthy, else I should not have confided in you thus far. It is very kind of you, but ’ She paused, pressed her hands to her forehead, then let them drop listlessly in her lap. Mortimer glanced at the clock, then at the girl. She arose hastily, a strange light shining in her eyes, a vivid flush upon her cheeks. She stood before him, superb, queenly in her beauty. ‘May Heaven help me to do what is best !’ she said. ‘ Mr. Sluke, I accept your offer—l—will be your wife !’ A little sob escaped her—‘l—l will be in the parlour—you may come for me at half-past nine. ’ Then the door opened and closed, and Mortimer was alone. He stood like one entranced. Was he dreaming ? or was he the victim of an hallucination ?

His eyes fell upon the roll of bills lying upon the table. He took them up, thrust them into his pocket, a gleam of satisfaction upon his face. Five bundled dollars! What a windfall! Surely his luck' star had arisen at last. What amazing adventure was this with which he had become mixed up ? Could it be possible that he,

the penniless lawyer, was about to marry an heiress worth more than half a million ? He shook himself to make sure that he was not dreaming. But a sudden thought came to him—there was no time to lose! He drew on his overcoat, took his hat, and, jamming it on his head, hurried from the inn. In a half-hour he returned with a license. He sound Miss Dangerfield awaiting him in the parlour. Ah, how superbly beautiful she was ! What followed seemed like a strange dream to Mortimer. The ride to the little church—the marriage ceremony—the flicker of the light of the waxen tapers—and then— They were driving back from the church. Mortimer looked at the woman beside him as the street lamp flashed through the carriage window. Ah, how beautful she was! Her very presence thrilled —intoxicated him ; yet—who was she ? I She laid her hand upon his arm. ' ‘ You will please drive me to the railroad station,’ she said. ‘ I must return to the city by the 11, io train.’ ‘ And I ?’ he said ‘ Will hear from me in a few days.’ That was all. He stood beside her in the station’s flaring light. As he helped her aboard the train she thrust a small package into his hand. A hurried good-bye, the train moved on, and he was alone. He returned to the inn, entered his room and threw himself into a chair. He broke the seal of the package given him. It contained a number of large bills—a thousand dollars in all—and the photograph of a woman of wondrous beauty— his wife ! It was late on the following morning when Mortimer Sluke awoke. The strange events of the preceding night rushed back upon his brain. He got up and made a hasty toilet, a vague indefinable suspicion that it had all been a dream coming over him. He thrust his hand into his pocket. No; it was no dream. There was the picture she had given him, and, what was more substantial evidence of reality, the huge roll of bills—fifteen hundred dollars ! Thrusting the bills back into his pocket, he descended the stairs. As he passed through the hall he was met by a messenger boy, who handed him a telegram. He tore it open aud read as follows : •B , Jan. 15th, 18—. * Come to the city at once. Business important to yourself. ‘ Hulbert & Clyde.’

‘ Bless my stars! What can this mean ?’ ejaculated Mortimer. * What business can Hulbert and Clyde have with me ? Well, strange events are coming in battalions !’

He ate a hasty breakfast and took the first train for the city.

Hulbert and Clyde were prominent attorneys in the city of B , and it was in their office that Mortimer had taken his first lessons in law. But he soon drifted away—went West, attended a law school, was subsequently admitted to the bar, and set up for himself in the village of Spragueville. On his arrival in the city Mortimer went directly to the lawyers’ office. He found Cyrus Hulbert, the senior member of the firm, alone in his private office. ‘ Allow me to congratulate you on your good fortune,’ said Hulbert, as the two shook hands. ‘ I suppose you have not yet h-ard the news ’ ‘ I have heard nothing, I am here in response to your despatch. That

is all.’ • Ah, to be sure ; I might have known as much, buried as you were in that obscure village. Well, I am sorry to inform you that your old friend Tom Packet is dead!’ • Dead ! Tom dead ? That is, indeed, sad news.’ ‘Yes, poor Tom ! he died about a week ago, after a brief illness, and since that time we have

been trying to find some trace of you. You know, I suppose, that Tom inherited a splendid fortune, some two years ago. Well, he has willed the bulk of it—nearly a half-million —to you, and this is why you were sent for.’ Mortimer looked at the old lawyer in stupefied amazement. Could it be possible that he had heard aright ? Had the Goddess of Fortune suddenly opened all her stores to him ?

‘ What! —what did you say ?’ he said, with a gasp. Hulbert repeated his words. 1 Impossible !—there must be some mistake,’ he said. •No ; it is the truth. 1 myself drew up the will.’ * But I heard Tom was married about a year ago. and surely his wife —’ ‘So he was, and that is where the trouble began. You see the woman Tom married was not suited to him, poor boy, and they quarrelled, almost at the altar. She was an actress, vain and selfish, with a devil of a temper, but as beautiful as a Peri. She was a desperate flirt, avaricious, exacting, and a superb spendthrift. They lived a cat-and-dog life till some three months ago when they separated. Tom applied for a divorce, but before the case came up he was taken ill and died. ‘ But, as I said before, he had made his will bequeathing to yourself a large portion of his fortune, only leaving for her that which she was entitled to under the law. Pjor Tom ! he had become so prejudiced against women in general, that he seemed determined that none of them

should enjoy his wealth, for a time at least, so he made a provision in his will that you should forfeit all benefits under it if you married within five years from the date of the document '

Mortimer uttered a choking gasp. He looked at the speaker, pallid and aghast, while an inarticulate oath came from him. ‘ What !—what’s the matter ?’ exclaimed Hulbert. ‘ You don't mean to tell me that '

* Yes, I mean it,’ said Mortimer, in a faint, husky voice. .* I was married last niqht

•Then, by G d! you have lost half a million!’ thundered the old lawyer, bringing his fist down upon the table with a tremendous thump. Mortimer sat silent, staring stupidly before him. ‘ How did it happen ?' I heard you were single only yesterday evening. It must have been sudden.’ Mortimer explained, giving a brief account of his romantic adventure of the night before, displaying the picture of the strange beauty when he had finished. The old lawyer’s face grew purple with suppressed excitement.

‘ Mortimer Sluke!’ he said, pointing his bony finger at the picture, ‘ we have all been outwitted, beaten by that little shrew. That woman is Tom Packet's wife !' Mortimer uttered a groan. * Then all is up with my prospects,’ he said faintly. * Exactly. I see it all. She laid the whole scheme and inveigled you into marriage that you might forfeit your interest in the estate, knowing it would revert to her as the only legal claimant, and as under the law you would have no claims upon her individual property — even though you had married her, she now has matters in her own hands. Of course the story she told you was all concocted for the occasion. By George ! that woman ought to have been a lawyer ! And, by the way, here is a letter that was sent here for you by a messenger this morning. It’s from her or I’m mistaken.’ He drew a perfumed missive from his desk as he spoke and gave it to Mortimer, who opened it and read : * My dear Mr Sluke (pardon me omitting the word “husband”): When you have received this you will have doubtless learned the sequel to my little episode at

the “ White Swan Inn.” No doubt you will heap upon me much (and just) condemnation, and like my late husband (poor soul) vow to revenge yourself on the weaker sex. But let me warn you that such conduct is as unwise as it is unprofitable. Morbid, revengeful passions are not only vulgar and barbaric, but tend to sour the disposition, spoil the appetite and impair the digestion, thus defeating all hope of future enjoyment, social or domestic.

’ While I shall not venture to hope for your pardon for the base deception practised upon you I feel that your sense of justice will induce you to view my acts with less harshness when you reflect that I am but a weak little woman, pitted again-t a number of shrewd, worldly men, armed with a resolute and selfish purpose, and equipped with a formidable array of mental strength and legal sagacity.

• I shall sail for Europe at once, and it is hardly necessary to remind one of your high legal attainments that my long wilful absence will afford an excellent plea for a divorce under the caption of abandonment and desertion.

‘ You are a young man—ambitious, I am led to infer—and in depriving you of a fortune (which after all is but the extinguisher of noble ambition and the promoter of mental degradation) I have simply removed from your path that which would have proved a serious impediment to success in your struggle for fame and distinction.

‘ I am not ambitious, and am doubly conscious of my weakness —shall I say depravity—when I think of my willingness to encumber myself with the vulgar accumulations of avarice and greed ; vet the comfortsand the small degree of independence which these will purchase will, in a manner, compensate me for the humiliating knowledge of my mental inferiority. ‘ With best wishes for your success, and profound gratitude for the assistance which my base deception and your vanity allowed me to obtain from you, I am.

• Gratefully yours, Mrs. Thomas Packet, • (or, if you will) Mrs. Mortimer Sluke.’

When Mortimer had read the letter, he passed it to Hulbert, who read it, then leaned back in his chair and surveyed the young attorney with a cool, scrutinizing gaze.

‘ Mortimer Sluke,’ he said, ‘ you are a fool and an ass.’ And Mortimer nodded assent.