Charles Palliser (124 page)

— had fallen in love with the lady’s brother, John Umphraville. Her parents opposed the match and your grandfather supported them over this. His nevy, George Maliphant, on the other hand, took the young people’s part and as a consequence Mr Jeoffrey quarrelled with him and determined to strike out his remaindership. Conversely, your grandfather’s sister, Louisa Palphramond, supported Mr Jeoffrey and so came back into favour with him. In the event the marriage between the girl and young Umphraville did not take place because of your grandfather’s opposition.

Your father, however, succeeded in defying your grandfather for he and your mother made it up to run away together and be married. Because he had to do it secretly he acquired a special licence and arranged for the ceremony to be performed somewhere where his father would neither know of it nor be able to prevent it. Because of this there has always been a mystery about the marriage. And though it grieves me to say it, Master John, you must know that the accursed Clothiers have doubted the marriage — that is to say, they are claiming that it never took place and that therefore you are illegitimate. And since your parents are dead and no witnesses to the ceremony are known, nor any record of it in any of the parish registers that have been examined, I am afraid that they have a very strong case. So your grandfather’s opposition may have brought about what he most feared: the disinheriting of his own descendants.

Well, early in the Spring of the following year your grandfather became very ill and when he realized that he was dying, he was haunted by the fear that your father would dock the entail and sell the property to Nicholas Clothier or, which was hardly less agreeable a thought, to Sir Hugo. He besought Mr Paternoster to think of a way
to
prevent this, but in vain. Then everything changed suddenly and you were the cause of it, Master John. For as soon as news came of your birth Mr Paternoster perceived a means to thwart your father’s intentions and outwit both Clothier and the Mompessons.

However, I knew nothing of this at the time for I was down at Hougham, and everything I am now about to tell you I discovered only long afterwards.

Following Mr Paternoster’s design Mr Jeoffrey made another will cutting out your father entirely by entailing the estate upon you. Yes, Master John, you are in Equity the entailed heir to the property and should be in possession of it at this minute. But be patient and I will tell you what happened. (I might also mention that your grandfather chose to take the risk of leaving out all mention of Master Silas and defying the Clothiers to contest it. And because he had quarrelled with his nevy George and made up with his niece, Amelia, he wanted to punish him and reward her. And so the entail, instead of going to him and his heirs in default of your issue, now passed to his niece Amelia and her heirs.)

Now I have to tell you a terrible thing. Immediately after making this will, your grandfather died and so no-one knew that it existed except Mr Paternoster and the other witness to it who was one of his own clerks. And Mr Paternoster removed and suppressed it; and not only that but he also removed the codicil from the original will. (I will explain his motives in a moment.) So he produced GRANDFATHERS 571

the original will and said that your grandfather had revoked the codicil shortly before he died, and his clerk confirmed this for Mr Paternoster had paid him to hold his tongue and say what he was bid. Consequently, that earlier will was sent to probate. Of course Nicholas Clothier challenged it in the Court of Consistory, alleging that the codicil had been illegally suppressed, but since he had no evidence the case was dismissed after only a few months.

So your father inherited the estate. And Clothier, furious at having been cheated, set about foreclosing on the mortgages and the post obits and resorted to Chancery in the attempt to prove that the codicil was illegally suppressed and that, since the marriage of your parents never took place, his son, Silas, was the rightful heir. He offered to abandon this suit if your father would sell the estate, but your father outwitted him for he did not wish to sell his ancestral lands to a counter-jumping Cit any more than his father did.

So, less than a year after his father’s death, he conveyed the estate to his brother-in-law, Sir Hugo Mompesson, who, now that he had a son — the present Sir Augustus — was keen to obtain it. Since Sir Hugo could not put down the whole of the purchase-money, it was settled that an annuity was to be paid as a charge on the estate to your father and his heirs in perpetuity.

Your father died soon afterwards and so did old Clothier, but the Chancery suit continued, for it was taken over by Mr Silas. Now, Master John, this is the important intelligence that I have for you. Just before Mr Paternoster died a few years ago he confessed to me what he had done and why. He told me he had gone to your father and told him that Mr Jeoffrey had just made a will disinheriting him. And so your father bribed him to suppress it and, for good measure, to conceal the codicil to the earlier will so that he would not have to go to the expense of breaking the entail before he could sell the estate.

However, what Mr Paternoster told me on his deathbed was that he did not destroy those two documents, as he led your father to believe. He kept them for a number of years and not long before, he had approached the Mompessons and told them about the will and that it was still in existence. They were naturally horrified for it would have the effect of disinheriting your father retrospectively and thereby invalidating their purchase of the estate. And so they purchased it of him for a large sum of money. I fear they will have destroyed it, Master John, and so there is no evidence now that it ever even existed.

The codicil, however, offers more hope. Mr Paternoster dared not offer it, of course, to the Clothiers but he sought out the heir of Mr George Maliphant — upon whom, you may remember, the entail devolved in default of your father’s issue provided that the death of young Mr Silas had taken place — and he offered it to this gentleman, a certain Mr Richard Maliphant. However, Mr Maliphant declined to purchase it. Mr Paternoster told me he had then sold it to another member of that family, but he refused to tell me who this individual was.

Now, if you could regain the codicil and lay it before the court you might have a chance of being declared owner of the Hougham estate, for it would retrospectively create a base-fee instead of the fee-simple the Mompessons believed they had purchased and the court might find that the sale was therefore invalid.

I dare say all of this will require a great deal of money, Master John. So you must begin now to save what you can from your annuity, and start to acquire the knowledge of the law of real property that will permit you to prosecute the suit most effectively. Why don’t you come and live here? (You may pay me

572 THE

PALPHRAMONDS

something for your board and lodging.) And bring that other young fellow, Martin, the son of poor Elizabeth Fortisquince. I will teach you what I know of the Common Law and of Equity. So you must … you must … What the devil is that row, Master John? I say, what the … Master John? By God! Who are you?

A Friend on the Inside

It is late in the evening and Mr Clothier and Mr Sancious are alone in the counting-house or, rather, almost alone for Mr Vulliamy is still at work in the outer office where he can surely hear the sound of raised voices.

“Those bills of Quintard and Mimpriss that you advised me to buy for my client —

they were worthless!” Mr Sancious is shouting.

“I didn’t know the house was in danger,” the old gentleman exclaims indignantly.

“Why, I got burnt myself holding their paper. And so did my informant.”

“Your informant,” the attorney sneers. He looks as if he is about to say something else, but then he goes on: “I’ll wager it was your informant that got us into this pickle! See where your bill-dealing has got us! Every penny the Pimlico and Westminster Land Company made out of that spec — lost! And the company itself going to smash with the prospect of gaol for someone!”

“Why should you care?” cries the old gentleman. Then, jerking his head towards the door and hushing his guest with a gesture of his hands, he goes on in a hoarse whisper:

“It ain’t you that will suffer for it.”

“Nor you either!” the attorney retorts. “And I wonder if you’ve bubbled me all along.

Why, I’ll wager you’ve been selling your own slang bills to the company and making me pay for your losses!”

“That’s a lie!” the old gentleman screams. “And if it comes to that,
you
haven’t been square with
me.
It was you who arranged the Huffam boy’s escape!”

“What are you talking about?” Mr Sancious exclaims in amazement — or a fine imitation of it. “Why would I have done that?”

“Don’t play with me. Do you take me for a fool? I know you were behind it. And I’ll stake my life you know where he is now.”

“That’s absurd. What motive could I possibly have for doing such a thing?”

The old gentleman looks very cunning at this: “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what your game is, Sancious,” he says. “I know how you’ve been trying to trump me. But you won’t succeed. I’ve been one too many for you. I know all the cards you hold. You see, I

… ”

The old gentleman falters and starts gasping for breath. Then he sinks to the floor moaning: “Loosen my collar. Help me.”

573

574 THE

PALPHRAMONDS

The attorney stands looking down at him while his host splutters and clutches his chest.

In a low strangled voice the old gentleman gasps: “Call Vulliamy, for heaven’s sake!”

Mr Sancious remains motionless.

After a few minutes the old gentleman falls silent and lies quite still. Instantly the attorney crosses to the strong-box and tries to raise the lid. It is locked. He goes to the desk and begins opening drawers and looking through piles of papers.

At that moment, however, the old gentleman suddenly jumps to his feet: “Not so quickly, my dear friend.”

As Mr Sancious looks at him in horror, he smirks at him and sneers: “You thought you were in luck, didn’t you?”

He advances towards him and Mr Sancious backs out of the door into the outer office where he cries out: “Your governor has gone mad!”

Then he turns and hurries out of the street-door.

In amazement Mr Vulliamy looks up from his desk at his employer who is standing in the door-way to his inner closet and hugging himself in glee.

The reason why the old man broke off his narrative so suddenly was that there had come a violent hammering at the street-door. It was a strange and distinctive knock: the blows fell in a quick succession of three, followed by a pause, and then a single knock followed by another pause before the pattern was repeated. Mr Escreet had started at the noise as if he had been suddenly awakened, and he was looking at me now as if he was seeing me for the first time: “By God! Who are you? You’re not Master John! Who the devil are you?”

“As I told you, Mr Escreet, I am John Huffam.”

As I spoke, my mind was in a tumult as I tried to think about the implications of what he had told me.

“No you’re not. John Huffam is dead.” He stood up: “Whoever you are, you must go.

He
must not find you here.”

“Whom do you mean?” I asked. “And how do you know who is there?”

He looked frightened: “Nobody else knocks like that. Hurry, he has his own key.”

He seized me and almost pushed me out of the room. As we were passing through the hall, he raised his finger to his lips and while we crept on tip-toe across the broken tiles, the sound of the street-door opening came to us. We were by now hidden from the vestibule by the staircase and paused here while we heard the door close and realized that the newcomer had entered the house. Then the vestibule-door opened and shut and we heard footsteps almost passing us as the stranger went into the side-lobby. We set off again down the long passage and reached the back-door safely. Mr Escreet almost pushed me through it and then locked the door behind me.

I made my way along the dark little alley-way into bustling Charing-cross, and then going up the street, returned along the public way into the first yard of the court. There I found Mr Digweed waiting for me where he could see anyone coming or going but could not be seen from the house. To my surprise,

A FRIEND ON THE INSIDE

575

Joey was with him and was panting as if he had been running. I was pleased to see him, though only because I knew how worried his parents were.

“Who was it who arrived just now?” I asked them.

They both shook their heads.

“What did he look like?”

“He was quite young,” Joey answered; “dressed like a genel’man, but out of blunt, I should say. I can’t say no more than that.”

“I’ll wait and see him when he comes out.”

“You can’t,” Joey said.
“He’s
jist come to the house.”

“Who?”

“Barney. Sally must have told him where we was.”

“You ain’t safe there now, Master John,” his father put in. “You must be got away.”

I saw the force of this, though I was reluctant to give up my chance of observing Mr Escreet’s visiter.

“But where to?” I wondered.

Mr Digweed and Joey looked at each other.

“Meg’s,” Joey said.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

I looked at Joey. Was he telling the truth or was this another trap that he was going to lead me into? How had he learned of Barney’s return to the house? Was it not probable that he had gone back to him with Sally and that they had concocted another design against me?

“I’ll take him there, dad,” Joey said, “for if one of Barney’s men dodged me here I can lose him better than you can.”

Mr Digweed nodded.

“So you came back, Joey?” I asked.

He reddened but his father, who I could see was torn between his pleasure that his son had returned and his alarm on my behalf, said: “Aye, thank Gawd. He says he didn’t never go back to Barney but jist walked about and slept out.”