Vellenaux A Novel, Edmund William Forrest [read with me TXT] 📗

Mind That Sir Ralph,  Early The

Following Morning,  Ere The Self-Satisfied Widow Had Awakened From Those

Slumbers That Had Been During The Night Partially And Pleasantly

Disturbed By Means Of Her Coming Greatness As The Wife Of A Baronet And

The Lady Of Vellenaux,  Had Driven Over To Switchem And Taken His Seat In

The Up Train For Southampton,  In Order To Consult With The Lawyer Who

Had The Management Of His Estate. After Effecting This He Started For

London.

 

He Was Not Naturally A Bad Man At Heart,  And Had He Not Been Legal Heir

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To The Baronetcy He Would Never Have Entered Into The Conspiracy To

Deprive The Rightful Owner Of The Property. He Had Always Been Of The

Opinion That The Late Baronet Would Make A Will Leaving The Principal

Portion Of His Property To His Niece,  But Fancied That He Would Come In

For A Couple Of Thousand A Year,  To Enable Him To Support The Title; But

Finding That His Name Did Not Appear In The Will,  He Felt Both

Disappointed And Annoyed Beyond Measure,  And Quite Ready To Acquiesce In

The Proposal Made Him By The Intriguing Ex-Governess.

 

It Was Not His Wish Or Intention From The First That The Will Should Be

Destroyed,  And He Had Certain Scruples Of Conscience Which Now

Prevented His So Doing. During His Journey By Train He Argued The

Subject Mentally. "They Are Both Young," He Thought,  His Mind Reverting

To Miss Effingham And Arthur Carlton,  "And Will,  In All Probability,

Survive Me Many Years; Let Them Buffet The Waves Of Fortune In Their

Youth,  As I Have Done,  They Will Then Better Appreciate Their Accession

To Fortune Than They Probably Would Have Done,  Had They Come Into It At

An Earlier Stage Of Their Life; Besides,  Who Has A Better Right,  During

His Lifetime,  To Enjoy The Estate,  Than The Heir To The Title. The Will

Must,  Of Necessity,  Be Found Among My Papers After My Decease,  So All

Will Come Right In The End," And With This Consoling Plea He Settled

Himself Snugly Among The Cushions Of The First-Class Carriage Of The

Train That Was Now Leaving Southampton Far Behind,  On Its Upward Course

To London,  And Soon Fell Into A Doze.

 

In Another Carriage Were Seated Two Gentlemen Conversing In A Very

Lively And Animated Strain,  And Were Apparently Much Interested With

Scenery,  Farm Houses,  And Well Trimmed Hedges,  As The Train Whirled

Past. They Were Not Foreigners By Any Means,  Decidedly English In Every

Look And Action; About Eight And Twenty And Thirty,  Respectively,  And

Very Good Looking; The Tallest Was Decidedly Handsome; He Was Dressed In

Grey Tweed Of Fine Texture. They Had Entered The Carriage At

Southampton. A Man Of The World Would Have Pat Them Down,  From Their

General Appearance And The Well-Bronzed Hue Of Their Features,  As Either

Belonging To,  Or Having Served In,  The Military Or Naval Service Of

Their Country; And He Would Not Have Been Wrong,  For They Were None

Other Than Captain Carlton And Assistant-Surgeon Draycott,  Of H.M. Light

Dragoons,  Just Arrived From India On Furlough.

 

"We Are Going Along At Racing Speed," Said Draycott To His Companion,

"But It Will Hardly Keep Pace With Your Impatience To Reach London. Gad,

I Envy You The Possession Of So Fair A Bride. I Remember The First Time

I Met Her At Calcutta. I Thought Her The Most Loveable Girl I Had Ever

Seen; But What Chance Had A Poor Devil Of An Assistant-Surgeon,  Only

Just Arrived In The Country,  Surrounded,  As She Was,  By A Set Of Fellows

Old Enough To Be Her Father,  It Is True,  But With Rupees Enough To

Freight A Pattima? I Suppose That Ride Through The Goozeratte Did The

Business For You? She Is Just The Girl To Admire That Sort Of Thing."

 

A Suitable Reply Rose To Arthur's Lips,  But Very Different Words Escaped

Him.

 

"What The Devil Is That? A Collision,  By Thunder!" Exclaimed He,  As He

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Picked Himself Up From The Opposite Seat On Which He Had Been Thrown By

The Violence Of The Shock. The Door,  Fortunately,  Had Been Forced Open

By The Concussion. Our Two Travellers Jumped Out On To The Track. Here A

Scene Of Confusion Met Their View. They Had Run Into A Freight Train

Which Was Coming From An Opposite Direction. Women And Children Were

Shrieking For Help,  Mingled With The Cries Of Those Injured,  With The

Loud Shouts And Vociferations Of The Employees,  And Those Engaged In

Clearing The Wreck And Getting Things Into Trim Again; Although A Number

Were Hurt,  Some Slightly,  Others More Seriously,  There Were None

Reported Actually Killed; And A Great Number Of The Passengers Were More

Frightened Than Hurt.

 

"This Way," Said An Official To Some Four Or Five Men,  Who Were Carrying

A Gentleman That Appeared To Be More Seriously Injured Than Any Of The

Rest. "Lay Him Down Softly On That Grassy Bank;" Then Raising His Voice

Called Out,  "Is There Any Medhal Man At Hand?"

 

"Here,  Draycott,  Although On Leave You Must Come To The Rescue. Horrid

Bore To Be Thus Detained,  Is It Not," Said Arthur,  As They Hastened To

The Spot.

 

"Fall Back There,  Men,  Fall Back; Give The Gentleman More Air,  And Let

The Doctor Pass." At The Decided And Authoritative Tone Of Carlton's

Voice The Crowd,  Who By This Time Had Gathered Around The Sufferer,  Gave

Way. The Surgeon Went To Work Immediately And Examined The Unfortunate

Man Thoroughly. "Bad Case," He Said In A Whisper To Carlton. "Broken

Thigh Bone,  Ribs Crushed,  And Something Worse Internally,  I Am Afraid."

At This Moment Carlton Got A Good Look At The Features Of The Injured

Man. "Can It Be Possible! Yes,  It Is Sir Ralph Coleman!" At The Mention

Of His Name The Baronet Opened His Eyes And,  For A Second Or Two,  Looked

Fully At The Speaker,  Then Said With A Great Effort,  For Pain Had

Hitherto Kept Him Silent:

 

"Yes,  Arthur Carlton,  It Is I. How Came You Here? Do Not Leave Me." And

Here Sir Ralph Fainted From Loss Of Blood.

 

"Is There A Public House Or Farm Near?" Enquired Carlton.

 

"Yes," Replied One Of The Bystanders,  "There Is Farmer Wheatley's Just

Down There In The Hollow; They Will Do What They Can For The Poor

Gentleman."

 

"I Will Pay The Men Well That Will Carry Him There," Said Carlton,

Addressing A Number Of Farmers' Men,  Who Had By This Time Come Up. The

Rank Of The Injured Man,  And The Offer Of Payment,  Had A Wonderful

Effect. A Dozen Volunteered,  At Once. A Gate Was Taken Off Its Hinges,

And Some Of The Cushions Of The Injured Carriage Placed Upon This Litter

And,  Under The Direction Of Doctor Draycott,  Sir Ralph Was Conveyed To

The Farm House In The Hollow.

 

"You Seemed To Be Well Acquainted With My Patient," Said Draycott.

 

"Oh,  Yes. He Is Sir Ralph Coleman,  Of Vellenaux. He Succeeded To The

Title And Estate On The Death Of Sir Jasper,  Miss Effingham's Uncle,  By

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Which She Was Left Almost Penniless. You Have Heard Her History,  I

Suppose,  In India. These Things Always Leak Out Somehow Or Other In The

Service."

 

"In That Case,  My Dear Fellow,  I Must Go No Further Than The Door With

You. To The Best Of My Belief He Will Not Live More Than Eight Hours,

And I Must Have Other Opinion And Advice In His Case. I Think It Would

Be As Well To Have The Clergyman And A Lawyer Without Loss Of Time. He

May Have Something Of Importance To Communicate To You Or Miss Effingham

Ere He Dies,  For I Have Some Indistinct Notion That I Have Heard

Something Very Unfavorable Spoken About The Said Baronet,  Now I Hear The

Name Again. Let Him Be Got To Bed As Soon As Possible. What Is The Name

Of Your Nearest Town,  And The Distance To It?" Enquired Draycott Of The

Farmer.

 

"Fallowfield Is About Two Miles From Here,  Sir. There Is A Good Road And

No One Could Miss It," Was The Reply.

 

"Let Me Have A Horse And I Will Go Myself And Get What I Require;

Captain Carlton Will Remain Until I Return," And The Young Surgeon Was

Soon On His Way At A Hand Gallop. In The Meantime The Good People Of The

Farm Were Doing All In Their Power To Render The Sufferings Of Their

Wounded Guest As Little Painful As Possible; And Every Attention Was

Shown Him. He Spoke But Little; But Several Times Asked For Carlton,  And

On Seeing Him Only Repeated,  "Do Not Leave Me Yet,  Arthur,  I May Have

Something To Say Concerning You And Miss Effingham."

 

In Less Time Than Could Have Been Expected,  Draycott Returned,

Accompanied By The Best Surgeon In Fallowfield,  The Rector,  And A Lawyer

Of Good Standing In That Town. Again The Patient Was Examined,  After

Which A Consultation Was Held In The Farmer's Parlour,  Which Lasted

About A Quarter Of An Hour; The Medical Men Then Returned To The

Bed-Chamber.

 

The Baronet Scrutinized Their Features Narrowly As They Re-Entered The

Room. "Oh!" Said He,  Breathing With Intense Difficulty,  "I See There Is

No Hope For Me; But Tell Me Frankly,  How Long Is It Your Opinion That I

Can Live?"

 

"Doctor Draycott And Myself," Replied The Surgeon From Fallowfield--Who

Being Much The Senior Took The Lead--"Deem It Expedient That You Should

Send For Your Man Of Business As Soon As Possible," Thus Evading The

Direct Question.

 

Ralph Passed His Hand Across His Brow And Remained Silent A Few Moments.

"You May Do So,  But It Is Too Late I Am Afraid. Get The Nearest Lawyer

You Can,  But Be Quick For My Strength Is Failing Fast,  And Send Captain

Carlton To Me At Once."

 

"Arthur," He Continued,  As The Young Man Advanced,  "I Have Deeply

Wronged Edith And Yourself: In The Breast Pocket Of That Coat Yonder Is

A Paper Packet,  Bring It To Me." Arthur Obeyed And Placed It On The

Counterpane. Ralph Laid His Hand Upon It And Said,  "There Is Yet Time

To Make Restitution. This Is The Will Of The Late Sir Jasper Coleman,