Chapter III: A Golden Rain

The Van Deust brothers sat smoking their pipes in the twilight on the wide porch of the old homestead overlooking the sea.

"I met Thatcher to-day when I was over at the village," said the younger brother, Jacob, "and he wanted to put the ten acre lot in corn on shares."

"Well," responded Peter, "I suppose he might as well have it as anybody. Somebody will have to work it. We are getting too old, Jacob, for ploughing and such-like hard toil ourselves, and a third will be all we'll want. What did you tell him?"

"I didn't give him any definite answer. I wish somebody else would offer to take the lot. I don't like that Thatcher."

"Why?"

"He is a hard, severe-looking old fellow, and I'm sure he treats that pretty niece of his badly."

"Oh! He does, eh? And now, Jacob, what the mischief is that to you? And what has it to do with his putting the ten-acre lot in corn on shares?"

"I've seen her crying."

"Bah! Girls are always crying. They like it. They do it for practice."

"Peter, you'd kick a boy for throwing stones at a wild bird, wouldn't you?"

"That's another matter. Birds are birds, and they're God's creatures; but women are the devil's creatures, and you'll never see Peter Van Deust trouble himself to lift his foot to a boy that throws stones at them. If the girl don't like the treatment her uncle gives her, I suppose she can find some fellow fool enough to marry her. 'Most any of 'em can do that."

"Peter, you shouldn't talk that way. A poor girl has her feelings about marrying where her liking goes, just as much as a man has."

"Yah!" snarled Peter, contemptuously, vigorously puffing his pipe, and for some minutes both men were silent. The younger of the two sank into a reverie, and awoke from it with a start, when his brother resumed the conversation, saying:

"I tell you what it is, Jacob. You were spooney on Mary Wallace's mother forty years ago, and I'm blessed if I think you have got over it yet. She threw you overboard then, not for a better looking man--for you were a fine, trim, sailor-built young fellow in those days--but for a richer one. She thought--"

"No, no, Peter! No, no! Don't say that! Don't say that! She didn't want to marry Wallace. I know she didn't. But her father and mother compelled her to it. She loved me best, I know she did. But you are right in saying I haven't got over it, Peter. I never shall. I'll love her just the same still, if I meet her in heaven. And when I see Mary's sweet young face, the love that is in my heart for her mother's memory cries out like a voice from the grave of all my hopes and joys, and I can hardly keep from taking poor Lottie's child in my arms and weeping over her."

"Which, if you were to do, she would think you were crazy, and right she would be," commented Peter, snarlingly.

"Hello!" sounded shortly, in a sharp wiry voice, from the little lane at the back of the house.

Peter, rising from his bench and going to the end of the porch, replied with a sailor-like "Aye, aye, sir," to the hail of the stranger, who was none other than the little elderly gentleman already encountered by Ruth and Mary in the woods. Without dismounting, the visitor asked, in a slow and cautious manner,

"Am I justified in presuming that I am upon the premises of the parties known as Peter and Jacob Van Deust?"

"This is where we live," replied Peter, a little puzzled by the stranger's manner.

"Pardon me, sir, but your reply is not an answer to my question. Am I to understand that you are one of the said parties?"

"I'm Peter, and this is Jacob," responded the elder brother, pointing with the stem of his pipe at the younger. "But come alongside before you get off any more of that lingo."

Methodically and carefully the rider dismounted, fastened his nag to the fence, and pushing open the little gate, stepped upon the low porch-floor, where, after an elaborate bow to each of the brothers separately, he continued:

"Assuming your affirmation to be correct and capable of substantiation by documentary evidence, and believing that you are, as you represent yourselves--or, rather, as one of you has represented--Peter and Jacob Van Deust, permit me, gentlemen, to have the pleasure of offering you my congratulations."

So saying, he raised his tall hat with old-time courtesy, repeated his bows to the brothers severally, and replaced his beaver with such exactitude that not a hair of his nicely-brushed wig was disarranged.

"Congratulations upon what? Upon being Peter and Jacob Van Deust?" demanded Peter, who began to look upon his visitor as a probably harmless lunatic.

"Naturally, sir. For reasons which you shall presently apprehend. Have you, or have you had, sir, to your knowledge, an uncle named Dietrich Van Deust?"

"Yes. It was Uncle Dietrich who went away to the Indies when we were boys, wasn't it, Peter?" said the younger brother.

"Yes, and settled somewhere there; I forget where. Batavia, I think, was the name of the place; but I ain't sure, for it is an age since I heard from him."

"Your remembrance is correct, nevertheless, sir," responded the stranger. "It was in Batavia that he took up his residence, and in Batavia that he died, at an advanced age, an old bachelor, possessed of large wealth, as I have been given to understand; and I offer my congratulations to you, gentlemen, for the reason that you are his fortunate heirs to the extent of one hundred thousand dollars."

The mere mention of that stupendous sum, as it seemed to them, fairly, stunned the two simple-minded old men who received this intelligence.

"Oh, Peter! It can't be there's so much money," gasped Jacob.

"Let me turn it over in my mind. Take a seat, sir," said Peter, pushing forward a stool for the visitor, reseating himself on his bench and slowly rubbing his forehead. Jacob went out to put away the little gentleman's horse, and while he was gone Peter relighted his pipe and smoked in silence. When the younger brother returned, the visitor resumed the conversation.

"My name," said he, "is Pelatiah Holden, and my profession that of counsellor-at-law. Here is my card," presenting one to each of the Van Deusts, and then continuing: "Four months and fourteen days since, I received from the firm of Van Gulden & Dropp, of Amsterdam, Holland, information to the effect that a client of theirs named William Van Deust was joint heir in the estate of Dietrich Van Deust, deceased, of Batavia; and they desired me, in order to facilitate the partition of the estate, to discover two other heirs, nephews of the deceased Dietrich Van Deust, named respectively Peter and Jacob Van Deust, sons of Jan Van Deust.

"That was father's name," interpolated Jacob in an undertone.

"As I have been already informed, sir, and do not doubt your ability to establish by legal proof," replied Mr. Holden, bowing gravely to him and going on with his narration. "Since that time, until three weeks ago, I have been seeking you, and it has only been during four days past that I have been satisfied that your claim to be the sons of Jan Van Deust, and nephews of Dietrich--and consequently inheritors under the will of the latter--could be legally established. Hence the apparent delay. But you will perceive, gentlemen, from my explanation, that I have notified you of the gratifying fact of the bequest, at the earliest practicable and proper moment."

Peter nodded silently, not having yet completed, seemingly, the serious task of "turning it over in his mind." But Jacob effusively stammered:

"Oh, we were not in any hurry, sir."

The lawyer resumed, speaking with the deliberate precision of one who reads an indictment: "Under the terms of the will, you are to enjoy this inheritance jointly while you both live, and expend it all, if you please, but by mutual consent. And should any of it remain at the time of the demise of either of you, it must descend to the survivor, untrammelled by any right of bequest on the part of the first decedent. And no contract, bargain, agreement, stipulation, or understanding whatever between you, concerning its disposal shall be made, by which the one surviving may be bound, or influenced in its administration; and to the fact that he is in no wise so bound, the survivor must make oath when entering into sole possession, else the sum so remaining must lapse to residuary legatees belonging to a remote branch of your family in Holland. What your uncle's intentions may have been in framing his will in this unusual manner, I do not pretend to say; nor is it, indeed, my province to inquire; but the facts are--as I know from an attested copy of the will in my possession--as I have had the honor of presenting them to you. And now, gentlemen, permit me to renew my congratulations and express the hope that you may long be joint possessors of this handsome inheritance."