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Amethyst Cross

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<h4>CHAPTER XIV</h4> <h5>THE FAMILY LAWYER</h5> Lesbia uttered an exclamation when she heard the astonishing remark of her father, and started to her feet. But Mrs. Walker, grimly silent, kept her seat and glared, like Medusa, on the newcomer. If she could have turned him into stone she would willingly have done so, as could be seen from the expression of her hard eyes. Hale, perfectly cool, in spite of the insulting speech which she made, took a chair and looked at her with deliberate insolence. Also deliberately he reverted to her insult. "I was just passing along to the dining-room," he explained slowly, "when I heard voices and your last question. I entered at once and was not eavesdropping, as you are pleased to say." "There is no need to excuse yourself," said Mrs. Walker tartly, "for----" Hale crossed his legs and leaned back. "In my own house I think not." "For I don't believe a word you say," she finished harshly. "Naturally you would not," rejoined Mr. Hale smoothly; "you were always a hard and suspicious woman." Mrs. Walker moved her hands restlessly, and her eyes gleamed fiercer than ever. "You know better than that," she muttered. "Take your mind back thirty years." "Willingly," said Hale, with great promptness. "Do you wish us to speak of the past in Lesbia's presence?" This time he scored, for Mrs. Walker winced. "There is no need for the child to hear old stories," she remarked, with suppressed passion. "Let us discuss what I have come to see you about." "The cross?" "Oh," she flashed scornfully, "I thought you were not eavesdropping?" "I admitted that I heard your last question," said Hale, with a shrug, "but you never would listen." "I am listening now. Say what you have to say." "I have said all that I intend to say, Mrs. Walker. The amethyst cross did not belong to Lesbia's mother." The girl uttered another exclamation; she was lost in astonishment. "But, father," she remonstrated, "Bridget told me on her death-bed----" "What she told you was what I instructed her to say," interrupted Hale imperiously. "But your mother--my wife--never possessed such an ornament." Lesbia looked at him doubtfully. Of late, she had suspected that her father was not above telling a falsehood to serve his own private ends, and in the face of what she knew, it appeared as though he was telling one now--why, she could not conjecture. While she was trying to puzzle out the reason, Mrs. Walker rose and swept across to the window of the drawing-room which looked out into the road. "I don't see him yet," she muttered to herself, and consulted a bracelet-watch attached to her left wrist. "Are you expecting anyone?" asked Hale politely. "Mr. Jabez, my family lawyer," she replied curtly, and returned to her seat. Hale raised his eyebrows and looked more gentlemanly than ever; also a trifle dangerous. "You asked him to my house?" "Yes, because I want to hear all about the cross. Oh, I know well that you do not wish to see Mr. Jabez, Walter, but----" "You call me Walter," said Hale, and suddenly flushed. "A slip of the tongue," retorted Mrs. Walker, also growing red. "The time is long past when I could call you so. You are Mr. Hale to me." "Then why not call me so?" demanded the man coolly. "I will do so in future," said Mrs. Walker, and bit her lip in silent rage at having given him an opportunity of scoring. "But I know that Mr. Jabez is too well acquainted with the seamy side of your life for you to care about meeting him." Hale shrugged his shoulders. "He was my family lawyer as he is yours," he answered in icy tones, "and one confesses much to one's lawyer, which one would hesitate to say to others. I can depend upon the secrecy of Jabez as to my misfortunes." "Oh!" Mrs. Walker laughed scornfully, "you call them by that name." "It suits them best. As to Jabez, I have no hesitation in meeting him. But I prefer to choose my own visitors." "You certainly would not choose Mr. Jabez," said the elder woman insultingly. "However, I have taken advantage of your easy-going nature"--she was very sarcastic--"to invite Mr. Jabez to meet me here, so that we may discuss the whereabouts of the cross." "How can we discuss what we cannot and do not know?" asked Hale, with a contemptuous look. "You are still the same woman, Judith, headstrong and----" "Don't call me that name!" she said sharply. "A slip of the tongue merely, such as you made just now," sneered Hale; "but all this is very unpleasant for Lesbia. Don't you think that while we quarrel she had better leave the room?" Mrs. Walker drew Lesbia down on to the sofa beside her, and retained the girl's hand within her own. "No," she said sternly, "I am not going to quarrel with you, Mr. Hale. Besides, I wish Lesbia to be here, so that she may hear somewhat of the past." "Why should she?" asked Hale hastily. "I want her to marry George." "You--want--her--to--marry--George," repeated Hale astonished, "my daughter!" Mrs. Walker looked at him straight. "You may well be surprised," she said quietly, "especially as you know through my son that I was set against this marriage, and with good reason let me remind you, Mr. Hale. But now that I have seen Lesbia"--she drew the girl closer--"I see no reason why the sins of the father should be visited upon the child. Lesbia shall be my dear daughter, and I welcome her with joy." "I have something to say to that. She shall never be your daughter-in-law, since it is better to be explicit as to relationship." "We'll see about that." "Quite so. You are a clever woman, Judith, but I am also a clever man." "Oh!" Mrs. Walker winced again at his using her Christian name. "We had better not begin about your qualities. Lesbia would certainly have to leave the room then." "Don't shame me in the presence of my child, madam," said Hale thickly, and the veins on his forehead began to swell with anger. "I beg your pardon," said Mrs. Walker with a careless laugh, "I forgot how you have deceived her into thinking you an angel." Hale suddenly rose, and walked to the window. He was in a furious rage and was trying to keep himself cool, since he knew that any loss of temper would give Mrs. Walker an advantage which he did not intend her to gain. She sat quietly smoothing Lesbia's hand, with glittering eyes quite ready to continue hostilities as soon as her enemy recovered his breath. Lesbia herself remained passive, wondering what all the trouble was about. Neither the one nor the other of the disputants hinted sufficient to enlighten her as to the reasons why they were at enmity. Hale certainly might have said something more to the point, as he was rapidly losing control of his temper, but as he turned from the window, there came a ring at the front door of the cottage. "Here is Jabez," said Hale, coming back to his seat. "I am glad he has arrived, if only to stop your tongue." "Oh, Jabez knows all that I can say," remarked Mrs. Walker grimly, and became silent. With wide-open eyes, Lesbia sat waiting quietly to see what would happen next. This duel of three--as it appeared to be, was as fantastic as that in which Mr. Midshipman Easy fought. Moreover, the girl was so bewildered by the hints dropped of a disagreement between Mrs. Walker and her father, of which she knew nothing, that she was trying hard to collect her scattered senses in order to take in future events more clearly. Mr. Jabez announced his presence in the passage by a dry, hard cough before he was introduced to the company by Tim Burke. He was a meagre man of medium height with a bald head, a hatchet face, a pair of eyes the colour of which could not be seen because of blue spectacles, and a loose figure invested in well-fitting dark clothes. He looked somewhat like a certain type of American, but when he opened his mouth, he spoke very precise English. For the rest, he seemed unemotional and very much addicted to dry business details. No one could have called Mr. Jabez an interesting person, but he appeared to know his business and the value of his time, upon which he placed a high price. "Good-day! Good-day! Good-day!" he said severally to the three people in the room with a little nod to each. "Mr. Hale, I apologise for calling uninvited at your cottage, but Mrs. Walker, who wished for the meeting here, must make my excuses. This is your daughter: a very handsome young lady. I shall take this chair, with my back to the light, as my eyes are somewhat weak. For that reason I wear blue spectacles. Now," Mr. Jabez had gained possession of a comfortable chair by this time, "let us come to business, as I have to return to London within the hour, Mrs. Walker!" Thus addressed Mrs. Walker, as grim as Jabez himself, and as impatient of wasting time, spoke to the point. "I asked you here, Mr. Jabez, to meet Mr. Hale with whom," she added venomously, "we are both exceedingly well acquainted." "Quite so--quite so," interrupted the lawyer with his dry cough, "but it would be as well to avoid personal remarks. They do no good and take up valuable time. Go on, Mrs. Walker." "I want to hear what Mr. Hale has to say about the amethyst cross," said the widow with a dark look at her enemy. "I have nothing to say about it," retorted Hale, nursing his chin with his hand and leaning back with crossed legs, apparently indifferent. "Pardon me, but you have much to say," remarked Jabez precisely. "So far I merely know on the authority of Mrs. Walker--that the cross was given to this young lady," he nodded very curtly towards Lesbia, "and that in her turn she passed it to Mr. George Walker." "That is true," admitted Lesbia, seeing that she was called upon to speak. "I was told by Bridget----" "Who is Bridget?" interrupted Jabez keenly. "My late nurse. She is dead." Jabez shook his bald head. "T'cht! T'cht! T'cht! That is a pity. Go on." "Bridget told me that I was to give the cross only to the man I loved. I therefore gave it to George. He was assaulted for it on the towing-path and as it could not be found upon him, his room at Medmenham was robbed." Jabez nodded. "Mrs. Walker told me all this," he said quietly, "and the cross has never been found." "No," said Mrs. Walker. "No," said Mr. Hale. "No!" said Lesbia. "All are agreed," smiled the lawyer drily, "a most unanimous opinion. I understand," he addressed Lesbia again, "that your mother originally owned this cross and gave it to your nurse. Mrs. Walker, on the authority of her son, told me as much." "I understood that the cross had belonged to my mother," replied Lesbia, nervously glancing at her father. "Bridget told me so, when she gave it to me on her death-bed." "Then she told you wrongly," said Mr. Hale, "and at my request." "Why?" demanded Jabez, turning towards his unwilling host. "Because the cross belonged to another woman, and I did not want that known in case someone should claim it." "Ha!" said Mrs. Walker darkly. "And why did you wish to keep it?" "I--I--liked the ornament," confessed Hale hesitating, and quite forgetting the sentimental reason he had given to his daughter as to the desire to keep the cross because it had been the property of his late wife. Mrs. Walker laughed scornfully. "I believe you know the reason why the cross is so valuable," she snapped. "Yes, he does," chimed in Lesbia, who was determined to learn the reason of all this mystery. "He says that if produced it will bring him two thousand a year." "Lesbia!" Hale jumped to his feet and looked furious. "How dare you?" "How dare I?" she cried, rising in her turn. "Because you will not trust me, father, and I am in the dark. The cross is mine, and I have a right to know all that concerns it. Does the production of the cross mean gain to my father of two thousand a year?" she asked the lawyer. "It means that if a certain person produces the cross to me," explained Mr. Jabez, "fifty thousand pounds will----" "Let me explain," interrupted Mrs. Walker sharply. "Lesbia, the cross is needed to prove the identity of my sister Kate. My father left her the sum of fifty thousand pounds. She eloped with a man of whom he disapproved, and has not appeared to claim the money. We don't know if she is living or dead, and----" "Ah!" broke in Hale, "this is what George told me." "Yes," flashed out Mrs. Walker, turning towards him, "and for that reason you know the value of the cross." "Oh," Hale shrugged his shoulders, "I knew that long ago." "Then why did you not produce it?" "Because I thought it was lost. If the cross belonged to your sister Kate, Mrs. Walker, I knew her." "She was not your wife," cried Mrs. Walker savagely, "You were not the man she ran away with." "I never said that I was," rejoined Hale coolly. "No. Hear what I have to say. When I was living at Wimbledon with my wife--Lesbia's mother--we one day found a woman unconscious in the snow. My wife, who was a Good Samaritan, revived her and took her in. She died, but before drawing her last breath, she told me that she was Katherine Morse----" "That was my sister's maiden name. But she married the man she ran away with." "She never told me so," said Hale coolly. "She died in my wife's arms and is buried in Wimbledon cemetery. The cross--as I heard from my wife on her death-bed--she gave to my wife saying that if produced to Mr. Simon Jabez it would be worth fifty thousand pounds. My wife gave the cross to Bridget and did not tell me so. When she died I hunted for the cross and could not find it. But that old hag of an Irishwoman possessed it and held her peace. On her death-bed she gave it to Lesbia and told her not to tell me about it. I only became aware of its whereabouts when I saw it in your son's hand after he had proposed to Lesbia. Then it was lost again and I don't know who has it." "What a strange story!" said Lesbia, "why did you not tell me before, father?" Hale turned on her viciously. "You were secret with me about the cross, so what occasion was there to tell you? Had you been open I would have had that fifty thousand pounds long ago." "No," said Jabez, who had been listening attentively, "you were not married to Miss Katherine Morse, and so had no claim to the money." "I claim it," cried Mrs. Walker triumphantly, "all I wanted to know was whether my sister Kate was dead. Now you have sworn to that, and now that we know she is buried in Wimbledon cemetery, I get the money." "No," said Jabez again and very drily. Mrs. Walker rose and turned on him angrily. "You know my father's will," she cried angrily. "One hundred thousand pounds was left equally between myself and my sister. I had my share and my husband spent it. Kate never came to claim her half, so by the will it reverts to the survivor of Samuel Morse's daughters. I am the survivor so----" "You go too fast, my dear lady," said the lawyer, "and do not know the will so thoroughly as I do. Fifty thousand pounds, which I hold, was left to Katherine and her heirs. There may be a child or children." "Kate Morse had no child when she died in my house," said Hale sharply. "I can prove it." He went to the door and called out, "Tim." In a few minutes, and amidst a dead silence, the crooked little man appeared rubbing his red head. "What's your will, sor?" he asked softly. "You remember the woman who was taken in at Wimbledon years ago?" questioned Hale impatiently. "The woman with the amethyst cross." "Ay, sor, I mind that. I wor a bare-futted gossoon thin. Me mother--rist her sowl!--laid out the shroud av her." "Had this woman a child with her?" asked Jabez promptly. "No, sor," said Tim unhesitatingly, "she had not. The only child in the house wor Miss Lesbia here." "That will do," said Hale impatiently, waving his hand, and drawing a long breath, "you can go," and Tim took his departure. "Are you satisfied?" he asked turning to the lawyer. "No," said that gentleman quietly, "I must have a better proof that there was no child. From certain rumours, which I remember hearing years ago, I am inclined to believe that there is a child." "I believe there was a child," said Mrs. Walker, who had been sitting grim and silent. "Kate wrote to me two years after she eloped with that man, that she had a baby and that it was very ill. She did not expect it to live." "Did she mention the sex of the child?" "No. She did not, nor did I ever hear from her again. I daresay that man cast her off, or deserted her, and she crawled to Wimbledon to die. But the child must be dead also, so I inherit the money." "No! no! no. There is not sufficient proof of the child's death," said Jabez, "although it appears we can prove the death of your sister. Then again, I must have the amethyst cross placed in my hands before I can part with the money. It is well invested," added Jabez with a chuckle, "and brings in a trifle over two thousand a year. You are correct in your estimate, Mr. Hale, but I doubt if you can claim the money." "I could if I had the cross," muttered Hale savagely. "Not even then. If the child, whether male or female, appears with the cross and I can prove that it is the child of Mrs. Walker's sister then I'll hand over the money. If we can prove the death of the child, Mrs. Walker will get the money." "And I'll have it," cried Mrs. Walker rising indignantly. "I am certain that the child is dead. Kate wrote that it was dangerously ill." "But not dead," chuckled Jabez, glancing at his watch. "Well, there is nothing more to be said, so I shall take my leave. Good-day! good-day! good-day!" he nodded again to each in turn and vanished as unexpectedly as he had entered. Mrs. Walker looked remarkably angry. "The money is mine and I'll have it," she said determinedly. "You must first find the amethyst cross," sneered Hale. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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