Back Aa

Carved Cupboard (Dramatic Reading)

<h3> Agatha's Legacy </h3> One by one, bright gifts from Heaven, Joys are sent thee here below; Take them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.'—Adelaide Procter. 'Why, Agatha, what is the matter? You look quite scared! No bad news by the post, is it?' Elfie asked the question one morning as she came into the dining-room to breakfast, and found Agatha staring out of the window with troubled eyes, and letting the brass kettle boil over on the white tablecloth with the greatest indifference. She turned round and faced Elfie with pale cheeks. 'Mr. Lester is dead. It seems so sudden. He caught cold and died on the voyage out to Australia. And his lawyer writes to tell me about it.' Elfie looked startled. 'Must we turn out of the house?' 'That is the strange part of it. The lawyer says he had a visit from Mr. Lester before he went, in which he informed him he was going to leave this house to me unconditionally, and a codicil has been added to his will to that effect.' 'Why, Agatha, I can hardly believe it! He must have fallen in love with you on the spot. Whatever induced him to think of such a thing?' 'I am sure I don't know, unless he was afraid of his cupboard. When I say he leaves the house to us unconditionally, that is the only condition he makes, that we live in the house and keep that cupboard locked till his son returns, and then let him have the contents. He told the lawyer he had left it to me as a trust, and he knew I was a woman of honour, so he would have no anxiety about it. And in return for this he bequeaths to us the house for good and all. I wonder what his son will say to it, if he ever does come back! I hardly know what to do about it. It seems so very extraordinary!' But, extraordinary as it was, Agatha found on further correspondence that it was a fact. The house was legally bequeathed to her; and, after the first excitement of it was over, she thanked God with all her heart that she had now a certain dwelling. She had a great dislike to change, and was so wedded to the country round her, and had made so many friends amongst the poor, that it had been a secret dread for a long time that the owner would return, and they would have to move. She was telling Elfie something of the relief it was to her, when the latter remarked,— 'Ah, well, Agatha, Nannie's text for you is true: "Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed!" You are provided for, at any rate.' 'And don't you find your verse true, too?' asked Agatha quietly. Elfie coloured a little, then laughed. 'Yes, I do; but life is so pleasant that I have had nothing to put my happiness to the test.' 'And I hope it never need be,' was Agatha's response. Not long after this Agatha was surprised by a visitor one afternoon, and this was no other than Major Lester. He bowed stiffly to her when she entered the room. 'I have heard from my lawyer that the strange report flying about this neighbourhood is true,' he began abruptly. 'You will excuse my coming to you to make a few inquiries, but had you any acquaintance with my poor brother before you came here?' 'None whatever,' was Agatha's prompt reply. 'Then he is a perfect stranger to you?' Agatha hesitated; then she said slowly,— 'I do not suppose it will matter now my mentioning it, but Mr. Lester came here about a month ago.' Major Lester looked astonished. 'I was unaware that my brother had been in England at all since his visit abroad; but he always was most erratic. And may I ask why his visit was to be kept a mystery?' 'I don't think there was any mystery about it. He simply asked me not to mention it.' 'Did he leave no message for me? May I ask his errand?' 'He left no message.' Agatha was dignity itself. She was going to reveal nothing more, and Major Lester saw as much, and resented it accordingly. 'Well, I see you and my brother came to some understanding together; and, I suppose, this freak of his is the result.' Then, pulling himself up, as he felt his temper was getting the better of him, he added, more blandly, 'Pray do not think I object to you as permanent neighbours. If I had any ladies in my household, they would have called on you before this. I came to you this morning because there is a locked cupboard of my brother's, which, as his nearest relative, I presume I have a right to open. I believe there are family papers in it of great importance. Perhaps you will kindly allow me to go into the study at once, as I am rather pressed for time.' 'I am sorry to have to refuse you, Major Lester, but I promised your brother that that cupboard should remain closed till his son came to open it.' Major Lester glared at her, but Agatha maintained her quiet composure. 'He must have been as mad as a hatter!' he muttered; then turned angrily to her. 'And may I ask when my nephew is to be back, as you seem fully conversant with the affairs of our family?' 'I do not know. Your brother thought he would return this year. Have you heard anything of your son?' 'My son has met his death by the hands of my nephew, at the instigation of his father! I warn you, Miss Dane, you may suffer the penalty of the law by refusing to let me have access to that cupboard. It is a mere question of time. If my nephew does not return soon, I shall insist upon having it opened, and I shall bring a lawyer with me to enforce my authority! I will not detain you longer now. Good-morning!' And Major Lester took his leave literally trembling with passion; so Agatha told her sisters afterwards. 'It is very unpleasant for us,' she added; 'I feel quite anxious lest Major Lester should insist upon having his way.' 'Have you nothing in writing from Mr. Lester himself about it?' asked Clare; 'I thought the lawyer sent you a written statement by him.' 'Yes, I have that; and, after all, the house is mine, and I suppose that includes the cupboard.' 'Of course it does. What did Mr. Lester say about the cupboard?' 'That it was not to be opened till his son came; and in this paper he bequeaths to me a certain portfolio of his that is in it. He says I can make what use I like of the contents. But of course I shall not get that till his son appears.' 'It is very romantic altogether,' said Clare; then, trying to speak indifferently, she added: 'Does Major Lester know how to open the cupboard, Agatha? I fancy it is not a very easy task.' 'I don't know,' said Agatha; 'perhaps he does not. In that case it is safe.' And she thought with satisfaction of her sealed envelope safe at the bottom of her dressing-case. 'Well,' she added, after a pause, 'I am not going to worry over it. One must just do what is right, and leave the result.' 'But,' said Clare dreamily, 'supposing there is a hidden crime in that cupboard—papers that tell of the whereabouts of Major Lester's son—should we be right in keeping it hidden? Supposing I were to find a way to open that cupboard, Agatha, should I be wrong in doing it?' Agatha looked startled. 'What do you mean? Are you trying to open it, Clare? I should hope you would not be so dishonourable. It is given as a charge to us. In fact, it is the condition of our keeping this house. And do you think anything would make it right for us to betray such a trust? I know an honest, upright man when I see him, and Mr. Lester was that, whatever Major Lester may be!' Clare laughed a little confusedly. 'You are getting quite excited. I never said I intended opening it. I wish this wandering son would come back. Couldn't we advertise for him?' Their conversation was here interrupted by another visitor, and this was Miss Miller. She came hurriedly and breathlessly in, pulling out the bows of her bonnet-strings, which was a way of hers when excited. 'Miss Dane, what is the meaning of this? No; I cannot stay to sit down. I'm off to a committee meeting in Brambleton, for the "Friendly Girls." The pony cart is waiting at the top of the lane. I have just met Major Lester. He is terribly put out by his visit here. Would not tell me particulars, but said you were siding with his nephew, who was hiding from the hands of justice, and refused him admittance into his brother's study. You are new-comers, my dear, and this will not do. How did you get acquainted with Mr. Lester? The major says he has been paying you secret visits. Very improper—single young women cannot be too careful. Why have you been keeping it a mystery? And what is it all about? And what is the secret of this mysterious cupboard?' 'That I cannot tell you, Miss Miller,' said Agatha, answering only the last of her questions; 'for I do not know it myself.' 'But you know something! We are not accustomed to mysteries here, and the major is an upright man, and a regular churchgoer, and his brother was a ne'er-do-well, But we won't say anything against him now, poor man! Only I assure you, you will make yourselves the talk of the neighbourhood if you three unmarried women scrape acquaintance with his son, and espouse his cause with such hot vehemence!' 'Miss Miller,' said Clare, with burning cheeks, 'you have no business to say such things of us; we have given you no cause to do so!' Miss Miller just nodded her head up and down excitedly. 'I say just what I like, my dear, and no one is to dictate to me as to my manner of speech, least of all a young chit of a girl who knows nothing of life!' Then Elfie came to the rescue, whilst Clare flounced out of the room in great indignation. 'Don't be cross with us, Miss Miller,' she said, in her pretty coaxing way. 'Major Lester left us when very angry, and you mustn't believe all he said about us.' But Miss Miller would not be appeased, and she left very soon, declaring that it was all very 'strange indeed, and most mysterious,' and that 'people who could not be straightforward, and made their own plans without reference to their spiritual guide, were a great trial to have in the neighbourhood!' 'It really seems,' said Agatha, with a weary sigh, 'that Mr. Lester's legacy will prove anything but a blessing! I do wish people would leave us alone.' But a short time afterwards Major Lester's wrath and Miss Miller's strong partisanship in his cause were quite eclipsed by a greater trouble. Agatha took in The Times, and it was generally delivered at their house about twelve o'clock in the morning, by the postmistress's little boy, directly he came home from school. One morning Clare met him at the gate, and opened it herself. She was feeling anxious and uneasy. For the first time Captain Knox had missed the mail, and she was full of gloomy forebodings. Agatha was tying up some straggling rose branches in the verandah, and Elfie practising away in the drawing-room. 'Any news, Clare?' Agatha asked carelessly. There was no answer. She looked up. Clare slowly came towards her, paper in hand. She was in a fresh white dress, with a bunch of crimson roses in her belt, her golden hair shining in the sun, but her face was as white as her dress itself, and she stared at Agatha as if she did not see her. Agatha dropped her hammer and nails with a crash to the ground. 'What is it, Clare? anything about Gwen?' she asked, in frightened tones. Clare handed her the paper without a word, and still gazed before her, as if she were in a dream. Agatha soon found it. Only a terse, short telegram, mentioning that reports of a massacre of a surveying party had just reached the African coast, and it was feared that none had escaped alive. Captain Knox's name was amongst those of the party. 'It is only a report,' faltered Agatha. 'I know it is true,' said Clare steadily; and then she passed Agatha by, and went up to her room. She locked her door, and seated herself in an easy chair by her window with the calmness of despair. 'He is dead, he is murdered, and he will never come back! I shall never see him again, and my life is at an end with his!' These thoughts burnt themselves into her brain. She leant out of her window, and gazed over the sunny meadows, noticing the smoke appearing from Patty's chimney, and a flock of swallows flying through it. Then she watched the motions of a frisky colt in the next field, and wondered if life seemed one long bright holiday to him. And then crushing her roses up in one hand, she flung them out of the window. 'What are roses and sunshine to me now?' she thought passionately, her whole soul swelling in protest at the black cloud enveloping her. 'What a bitter mockery this peaceful scenery is, when one remembers the awful fate that has fallen on Hugh and me!' And then bending her head in her arms, she laid them on the low window-sill, and sobs began to come that shook her from head to foot. Dry, tearless sobs they were at first, and she got up and paced her room in hot rebellion. 'It is cruel—cruel of God! He does not care! He might have let me have him back, when I was trying to be a true Christian! Such an awful death! Oh, Hugh, Hugh! my heart is broken!' She seized hold of a cabinet photo that stood on her dressing-table. It was Captain Knox in his regimentals; and as his frank, fearless gaze met hers, the flood of her tears was loosed, and they came thick and fast, relieving her brain, but exhausting all her strength by their vehemence. Luncheon time came, but no one could get her out of her room, and Agatha wisely let her alone. At five o'clock she tried her door again, and this time Clare unlocked it, and met her on the threshold with tumbled hair, flushed face, and defiant eyes. 'What do you want? Can't you leave me alone?' 'Oh, Clare darling, how I wish I could comfort you! You will be ill if you don't take any food. Will you not have a cup of tea?' Agatha's eyes were red with crying, and her lips quivered as she spoke. She laid her hand gently on Clare's arm, but it was shaken off, and Clare turned her back upon her and walked to the window. Then she burst forth passionately. 'I am not surprised! I knew when he went he would never come back again. I believe it is this house that is a curse to us! I always felt from the first night we entered it that it would bring us trouble; and why I am to be the victim I don't know! I hate and loathe it! Leave me alone. You needn't be afraid of my starving myself. I wish I could; but I have got to live, and I shall have to drag through it as best I can. There is no chance of my dying of a broken heart. People never do. I shall outlive you all, I expect. What are you waiting for? Do you want me to come downstairs?' 'No, I have some tea for you here.' And Agatha disappeared, to bring in a dainty little meal on a tray. As she put it down she said slowly: 'I wonder if you know where to take your trouble, Clare? God Himself will comfort you, if you let Him.' 'You needn't waste your breath in uttering platitudes, Agatha. I know that is the correct thing to say, but it doesn't do me an atom of good.' And Agatha left her with a sigh, and went to her own room to pray for her, and to ask that her trouble should soften, and not harden, her heart against the only Comforter. <h3> CHAPTER XII </h3> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.