Sir John now spoke of the will left by Sir William. He held a copy in his hand and opened it.
"You know," he said, "that your fortune is not considerable, though my father has invested it most fortunately. The income is ample for a young man, and on the decease of your uncle, Sir Terence, you will come into his t.i.tle and estate in Ireland. This should make you wealthy. However, Sir William saw fit to provide for you further."
He turned the pages of the doc.u.ment slowly, frowning.
"Where is my own money?" I asked.
Sir John pa.s.sed me a letter, sealed, which he said would recommend me to the lawyer in Albany who administered my fortune until I became of legal age. Then he resumed his study of the will.
"Read from the beginning," I said. I had a curious feeling that it was indecent to ignore anything Sir William had written, in order to hurry to that clause relating only to my own selfish profit.
Sir John glanced at me across the table, then read aloud, in his cold, pa.s.sionless voice:
"In the name of G.o.d, Amen! I, Sir William Johnson, of Johnson Hall, in the County of Tryon and Province of New York, Bart., being of sound and disposing mind, memory, and understanding, do make, publish, and declare this to be my last Will and Testament in manner and form following:
"First and princ.i.p.ally, I resign my soul to the great and merciful G.o.d who made it, in hopes, through the merits alone of my blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, to have a joyful resurrection to life eternal--"
He stopped abruptly, saying that he saw no necessity for reading all that, and turned directly to the clause concerning me. Then he read:
"And as to the worldly and temporal estate which G.o.d was pleased to endow me with, I devise, bequeath, and dispose of in the following manner: Imprimis. I will, order and direct that all such just debts as I may owe, at the time of my decease, to be paid by my son Sir John Johnson, Baronet....
"Item. To my dearly beloved kinsman and ward, Michael Cardigan, I give and bequeath the sum of three thousand pounds, York currency, to him or the survivor of him. Also my own horse Warlock."
Sir John turned several pages, found another clause, and read:
"To the aforesaid Michael Cardigan I devise and bequeath that lot of land which I purchased from Jelles Fonda, in the Kennyetto Patent; also two hundred acres of land adjoining thereto, being part of the Perth Patent, to be laid out in a compact body between the sugar bush and the Kennyetto Creek; also four thousand acres in the Royal Grant, now called Kingsland, next to the Mohawk River, where is the best place for salmon fishing; also that strip of land from the falls or carrying-place to Lot No. 1, opposite to the hunting-lodge of Colonel John Butler, where woodc.o.c.ks, snipes, and wild ducks are accustomed to be shot by me, within the limits and including all the game-land I bought from Peter Weaver."
Sir John folded the paper and handed it to me, saying, "It is strange that Sir William thought fit to bequeath you such a vast property."
"What provision was made for Felicity?" I asked, quietly.
"She might have had three thousand pounds and a thousand acres adjoining yours in the Kennyetto Patent," replied Sir John, coldly.
"But under present circ.u.mstances--ahem--she receives nothing."
I thought a moment. In the hallway I heard the officers returning with Colonel Guy Johnson from their inspection.
"Where is Felicity?" I asked, suddenly.
He looked up in displeasure at my brusqueness, but did not reply. I repeated the question.
"She is near Boston," he said, with a frown of annoyance. "Her lawyer is Thomas Foxcroft in Queen Street."
"When will she return here?"
"She will not return."
"What!" I cried, springing to my feet.
Sir John eyed me sullenly.
"I beg you will conduct in moderation," he said.
"Then tell me what you have done with my cousin Felicity!"
"She is not your cousin, or any kin to you or to us," he said, coldly.
"I have had some correspondence with Sir Peter Warren, which, I may say, does not concern you. Enough that Felicity is not his niece, nor the daughter of his dead brother, nor any kin whatever to him, to us, or to you. Further than that I have nothing to say, except that the young woman is now with her own kin, and will remain there, because it is her proper legal residence. Better for you," he added, grimly, "and better for us if you had not meddled with what did not concern you, and had allowed Lord Dunmore to take her--"
"Dunmore! Wed Felicity!" I burst out.
"Wed? Who said he meant to wed her? He did not; he knew from Sir Peter Warren who Felicity is; he knew it before we did, and informed Sir Peter. Wed her? Ay, with the left hand, perhaps."
I rose, trembling in every limb.
"The d.a.m.ned scoundrel!" I stammered. "The d.a.m.ned, foul-fleshed scoundrel! G.o.d! Had I known--had I dreamed--"
"You will control your temper here at least," he said, pointing to the card-room, where Colonel Guy Johnson and the Border officers were staring at us through the open doors.
"No, I will not!" I cried. "I care not who hears me! And I say shame on you for your indecency! Shame on you for your callous, merciless judgment, when you, G.o.d knows, require the mercy you refuse to others, you d.a.m.ned hypocrite!"
"Silence!" he said, turning livid. "You leave this house to-night for your regiment."
"I leave it in no service which tolerates such blackguards as Dunmore or such bloodless criminals as you!" I retorted, tearing my sword from my belt. Then I stepped forward, and, looking him straight in the eyes, slammed my sheathed sword down on the table before him.
"You, your Governors, and your King are too poor to buy the sword I would wear," I said, between my teeth.
"Are you mad?" he muttered, staring.
I laughed.
"Not I," I said, gayly, "but the pack o" fools who curse my country with their folly, like that withered, half-witted Governor of Virginia, like that pompous a.s.s in Boston, like you yourself, sir, though G.o.d knows it chokes to say it of your father"s son!"
"Major Benning," cried Sir John, "you will place that lunatic under arrest!"
My major started, then took a step towards me.
"Try it!" said I, all the evil in me on fire. "Go to the devil, sir!--where your own business is doubtless stewing. Hands off, sir!--or I throw you through the window!"
"Good Gad!" muttered Benning. "The lad"s gone stark!"
"But I still shoot straight," I said, picking up Sir William"s favourite rifle and handling it most carelessly.
"Mind what you are about!" cried Sir John, furiously. "That piece is charged!"
"I am happy to know it," I replied, dropping it into the hollow of my arm so he could look down the black muzzle.
And I walked out of the room and up the stairs to my own little chamber, there to remove from my body the livery of my King, never again to resume it.
I spent the day in packing together all articles which were rightly mine, bought with my own money or given me by Sir William: my books, my prints, some flutes which I could not play, my rods and fowling-pieces, all my clothing, my paper and Faber pencil--all gifts from Sir William.