Chapter XXII

It does not always follow that a thing is not a shock because one has in a manner expected it. Marion suffered a severe shock when she found her worst anticipations realized; for, although she had in a degree anticipated it, knowing that Rathborne was not likely to have spoken without some ground when he alluded to such a possibility, there had still been the contrary assurance that Mr. Singleton had evidently believed in his son's death, since there was not even an allusion to him in the will. The intelligence just conveyed was, therefore, a hard blow mercilessly struck; but she preserved her self-possession, notwithstanding, in a remarkable manner.

"This is a very extraordinary piece of news," she said. "I have been under the impression that Mr. George Singleton was dead."

Rathborne smiled. "Most people have been under that impression, especially those who had very good reason for desiring that it should be so," he answered. "But, so far from being dead, he has been living in South America, and prospering fairly."

"Living in South America, and yet he has already heard of his father's death and the disposition of his father's property!--how has that happened?"

Despite himself, Paul Rathborne colored slightly, but his glance met hers fully as he answered, "It has not happened by chance. Some time ago a friend of mine who had been in South America mentioned meeting a man there who, from his description, I felt sure must be Mr. Singleton's missing son. The matter was then no interest or concern of mine; for it was to be supposed that the father and son knew their own affairs best. So I paid no attention to it. But a short time ago it began to occur to me that it was rather hard that, while the son was still living, strangers should be fighting for his inheritance. Therefore I wrote to my friend (who had returned to South America) to let Singleton know the state of affairs here. The latter immediately wrote to me, saying that he would return to his father as soon as possible, and meanwhile asking me to inform Mr. Singleton of his (the son's) existence and well-being. This letter reached me just at the time of Mr. Singleton's death. I immediately communicated this fact to Mr. George Singleton, as also the facts with regard to the estate; and I have just heard from him, authorizing me to contest the will at once."

There was a brief pause, during which Marion asked herself what was her best course of action; and out of the confusion into which her mind was thrown, she could grasp only one clear idea--that she must be careful how she committed herself to this man, who had come with the desire to injure and triumph over her. Consequently, when she spoke it was to say, quite calmly:--

"I think that you have made a mistake in coming to me with this story instead of going to my lawyer. I understand very well _why_ you have come; but now that you have accomplished the end you had in view, I beg to refer you to him. For, of course, in a matter so important as this I shall not think of acting without advice."

"I am acquainted with your prudence," he said, with the mockery of his tone somewhat more pronounced; "and am not, therefore, surprised to find you so cautious. But I think it only right to warn you that your caution will avail very little. No will which ignores a son in favor of an absolute stranger can possibly stand."

"That is a point which I do not care to discuss with you," she replied. "But you will allow me to inquire if Mr. Singleton is in this country or on his way here?"

"Not yet. He will come if it is necessary; but I am at present authorized to act for him."

"You seem to have inspired him with a remarkable degree of confidence, considering that you are an entire stranger to him."

It was merely a chance shot, but something in the expression of Rathborne's face gave her an idea like a flash of lightning.

"It is to be supposed," she went on before he could speak, "that you are convinced of the identity of this stranger with Mr. Singleton's son?"

"Do you imagine that if I were not--"

"I imagine nothing," she interposed; "and as a lawyer you can not need a reminder from me that it will be necessary for this person whom you represent, fully to prove his identity with the son whom Mr. Singleton believed to be dead."

It was perfectly true, and Rathborne knew it; but he was none the less astonished that she should have so clearly and immediately perceived it.

"I always knew that she was shrewd as the devil," he said to himself, while he observed aloud:--

"Do not flatter yourself with any hope that it is an impostor who is about to claim the fortune you have inherited. Nothing can be more certain than that it is Mr. Singleton himself. To attempt to deny his identity will only be to make yourself ridiculous, and to damage your cause more than the plain facts have damaged it already. Your lawyer, I am sure, will advise you better."

"Let me again refer you to that lawyer, if this is all you have to say to me," she answered, rising from her seat.

He rose also; and as they stood for a moment face to face, it proved impossible for him to restrain some words which rose to his lips, brought there in double bitterness by the sight of her proud, calm countenance.

"I shall go to your lawyer," he said, "and I shall not rest until my client has all his rights--the rights of which he would not have heard for many a day but for me. When he is in full possession of them, I will ask you to be good enough to remember a pledge that I gave you once, and which I shall then have fully redeemed. I always endeavor to pay my debts; and, as you are well aware, I owe you a very heavy debt at present. I hope to repay it very soon--with interest."

"I am well aware that you are a malicious and a dishonorable man," she replied, calmly. "Because your treachery with regard to Helen recoiled on yourself, you have determined to injure me. Do your worst. Nothing that you could do would make you more despicable in my eyes than you are at present. This is all that need be said between us. Will you go now, or shall I be forced to leave you?"

"I shall go at once," he answered; "but you will permit me to offer you a little parting advice. Enjoy as much as possible the fortune which you hold now, for your possession of it will be very short."

With this last sting he went out from her presence; and she, sinking into Mr. Singleton's deep chair, clasped her hands over her painfully-beating heart, and looked with troubled eyes over the soft landscape before her, of which she hardly perceived a feature.

And so she was, after all, to lose the fortune for which she had sacrificed everything else! It had by no means brought her the satisfaction or happiness she had imagined, but it was all that remained to her--the one good which she still grasped out of the wreck she had already made of her life, and her life's best hopes. To lose it now, to sink back again into poverty and dependence after one brief taste of power and independence, that would be a bitter retribution for the choice she had made when she sent Brian Earle away,--a bitter retribution for the selfish vanity which had made Rathborne her enemy. She shuddered a little at the recollection of that enmity. Bravely as she had borne herself before him, it was a dismaying thought that such a power and such a will to injure menaced her. She thought of her proud self-confidence when from the quiet convent she had stepped into the world: her belief in her own ability to mould life, events, and people to her wishes. And now with what absolute failure she was threatened!--with what complete and hopeless loss of all that she desired!

The next day her lawyer came with a grave face, and greeted her with an air which was not lost upon her. "He thinks that it is all over with me!" she said to herself; but, though her heart sank a little lower at this proof of the weakness of her cause, she smiled on him brightly and bravely enough.

"I suppose," she began, "that you have seen Mr. Rathborne, who was so kind as to pay me a visit yesterday in order to give me some interesting intelligence?"

"Yes, I have seen Mr. Rathborne," he answered; "and the news he brought me was very unexpected and very serious."

"What do you think of it?" she asked.

The lawyer looked at her with surprise. The coolness of her tone and the composure of her manner seemed to indicate that she by no means appreciated the gravity of the danger which threatened her.

"I think," he replied, "that such a contest will be ruinous to you. No court will be likely to sustain a will which entirely disinherits a man's own son. Candidly, my advice to you is to compromise at once."

Marion did not say, "Advice should be asked before it is offered," but her curling lip said so for her, and so did the manner in which she ignored his suggestion.

"Before taking up a contest over the will," she said, "would it not be well to be quite sure that the person who proposes to contest it is indeed Mr. Singleton's son?"

Again the lawyer stared at her. Was it possible that he had not thought of this?

"Of course," he replied, "that is most essential; but it is very easily done. Mr. George Singleton has but to show himself. There are numbers of people who will recognize him."

"Why does he not show himself, then? Why is he content with merely writing to Mr. Rathborne instead of coming to look after his inheritance himself?"

"Because it is all that is essential at present--to give us warning and take the necessary legal steps. He will, of course, appear later."

"Let us demand that he appear at once," she said, with a decision of tone and manner which more than astonished the lawyer. "I, for one, distrust Mr. Rathborne utterly, and refuse most positively to transact any business with him. If you can get the address of this reputed Mr. Singleton, I beg that you will write to him, and say that we decline to recognize his claim in any manner whatever until he shows himself and establishes his identity. Then there will be time enough to talk of contest or compromise. Am I not right in this?"

"Perfectly right," responded the stupefied man of business. Never (as he afterward affirmed) had he been so surprised as by these energetic instructions. He had come himself prepared to instruct; to find perhaps unreasoning opposition, or hysterical complaining, which it would be necessary to quiet and bring to some practical view of the case. But to be met instead with this cool self-possession, these clear ideas and precise directions, was little less than a shock to him. His own ideas seemed to desert him as he sat and stared at the beautiful, resolved face which confronted him.

"Certainly you are right," he said again, after a moment. "The identity of the claimant is the first thing to be established; but--I confess that I am a little surprised by your thinking of this point. Why should it occur to you to doubt whether the person claiming to be Mr. George Singleton is really himself?"

"Because," she answered, "in the first place I am sure (and you, no doubt, are sure also) that his father believed him dead, else certainly he would not have omitted his name entirely from his will. And he must have had some reason for this belief. Again, as I have already told you, I distrust Mr. Rathborne entirety. He would be perfectly capable of bringing forth a false claimant."

"My dear young lady, that is a very serious, a very shocking charge. Mr. Rathborne is a--well, a sharp practitioner, perhaps; but I have no reason to suspect that he would be guilty of a criminal act. Indeed I have every reason to believe that he would _not_."

"Your knowledge of Mr. Rathborne differs from mine, then," said Marion, coldly. "I am certain that he would be guilty of any act which would serve his purposes. And he has a motive for this which renders distrust necessary. Therefore, I insist upon the appearance of Mr. Singleton and the establishment of his identity before I will take any step whatever toward noticing his claim."

"It is only a measure of precaution," said the lawyer, "and very well thought of. You have an uncommonly clear head for business for a young lady. I will, then, write at once to George Singleton; but I do not advise you to build any hope on the probability of his proving a false claimant. This conduct is altogether characteristic of him; and I, for one, had always a suspicion that he was not dead."

"His father, however, must have had reason for believing him so."

"Perhaps--and perhaps not. Mr. Singleton was a man of the strongest passions, and his son had outraged him in every particular. When, after a long course of disregarding and defying his father's wishes, the young man left home with the avowed intention of never returning, I know that Mr. Singleton declared that he should be as one dead to him. He only kept his word when he made his will."

"But do you not think that in such a case as that he would have mentioned him, if only to declare that he disinherited him for good cause?"

"It was not necessary, and he might not have desired to do so. He was a singular man and a very reticent one. Even I, who knew him so long and so well, have no idea whether he had any knowledge of his son's fate or not. And this fact makes me believe that it is more than likely that George Singleton is alive and ready to claim his inheritance."

"Let him come and do it, then," said Marion. "That is all."

And in this decision she was sustained by those who as well as herself were interested in upholding the will. Mr. Tom Singleton shook his head, and agreed with the lawyer that such a course of conduct was very characteristic of George Singleton; but he also declared that it would be folly to run any risk of playing into the hands of a false claimant. "And when a man has disappeared for ten or fifteen years from the sight and knowledge of everyone who knew him, there is reason to fear that, with a fortune at stake, he might be personated by some one else," he said. "Such things have happened time and again. You are quite right to insist that he shall show himself. If he is George Singleton I shall know him in half a minute, and then we can decide what to do."

"It will prove to be George Singleton, I am sure," said his wife. "He was always a malicious wretch, don't you know? And this is just like him. But the puzzle to me is, how did he find out how things were in so short a time?"

"He had a self-constituted informant here," said Marion. "Mr. Rathborne took pains to discover his whereabouts, and to let him know the news of his father's death and the contents of his father's will, as soon as possible."

"Mr. Rathborne--oh, I understand!" said the lady. "Dear me, how many malicious people there are in the world! And this is how he revenges himself for your little flirtation with him, and for the loss of your cousin's fortune! Well, my dear, I must say that you are likely to pay heavily for what could not have been a _very_ great amusement."

Hot tears of mortification suddenly gathered in Marion's eyes. Surely this was humiliation, to see her conduct as it looked in the eyes of this shallow woman, and to be pitied (conscious that in the pity there was a strain of exultation) for the downfall that awaited her from Rathborne's revenge. If Helen knew, she might hold herself well avenged; but, then, in Helen's gentle soul there was no room for any revengeful sentiment.