"Well, you may suppose it was a dreary house to which she came home.
Mr. Griffith Hughes, who was executor, had been before the Llewellyn Evanses in taking possession, and besides a lad or two in the kitchen there were only Gwen Madoc and the servant there, and it was little they seemed to have to tell her about the death. When she had heard what they had to say, and they were all on their way to bed, "Gwen,"
she said softly, "I think I should like to see him."
""So you shall, to-morrow, honey," answered the old woman. "But do you know, _bach_, that he has left you nothing?" and she held up her candle suddenly, so as to throw the light on the girl"s tired face.
""Oh!" she answered with a shudder, "how can you talk about that now?"
But presently she had another question ready. "Have you seen Mr.
Venmore since--since my grandfather"s death, Gwen?" she asked timidly.
""Yes, indeed, _bach_," answered the housekeeper. "I met him at the door of the shop this morning. I told him where you were, and that you would be back to-night. And about the will moreover."
"The girl stopped at her own door and snuffed her candle. Gwen Madoc went slowly up the next flight, groaning over the steepness of the stairs. When she turned to say good night, the girl was at her side, her eyes shining in the light of the two candles.
""Oh, Gwen," she whispered, "didn"t he say anything?"
""Not a word, _bach_," answered the old woman, stroking her hair tenderly. "He just went into the house in a hurry."
"Miss Peggy, I am believing, went into her room much in the same way.
No doubt she would be telling herself a great many times over before she slept that he would come and see her in the morning: and in the morning she would be saying, "He will come in the afternoon"; and in the afternoon, "He will come in the evening." But evening came, and darkness, and still he did not appear. Then she could endure it no longer. She let herself out of the front door, which there was no one now to use but herself, and with a shawl over her head she ran all the way to the shop. There was no light in the window upstairs; but at the back door stood Mrs. Campbell, looking after some one who had just left her.
"The girl came, shrinking at the last moment, into the ring of light about the door. "Why, Miss McNeill!" cried the other, starting at sight of her. "Is it you, honey? And are you alone?"
""Yes; and I cannot stop. But oh, Mrs. Campbell, where is Mr.
Venmore?"
""I know no more than yourself, my dear," the good woman said reluctantly. "He went from here yesterday on a sudden--to take the train, I am supposing."
""Yesterday? At what time, please?" the young lady asked. There was a fear, which she had been putting from her all day. It was getting a footing now.
""Well, it would be about midday. I know it was just after Gwen Madoc called in about the----"
""But the girl was gone. It was not to Mrs. Campbell she could make a moan. It was only the night-wind that caught the "Oh, cruel!" which broke from her as she went up the hill. Whether she slept that night at all I am not able to say. Only when it was dawn she was out upon the cliffs, her face very white and sad-looking. The fishermen who were up early going out with the ebb saw her at times walking fast, and then again standing still and looking seaward. But I do not know what she was thinking, only I should fancy that the gulls had a different cry for her now, and it is certain that when she returned and came down into the parlour at Court for the funeral, there were none of the Evanses could look her in the face with comfort.
"They were all there, of course. Mr. Llewellyn Evans--he was an elderly man, with a grey beard like a bird"s nest, and thick lips--was sitting with his wife on the horse-hair sofa. The Evanses of Nant, who were young men with lank faces and black hair combed upwards, were by the door. The Evan Bevans were at the table; and there were others, besides Mr. Griffith Hughes, who was undoing some papers when she entered.
"He rose and shook hands with her, marking the dark hollows under her eyes, and fixing it in his mind to get her a settlement. Then he hesitated, looking doubtfully at the others. "We are going to read the will before the funeral instead of afterwards," he said.
""Oh!" she answered, taken aback--for she had forgotten all about the will. "I did not know. I will go, and come later."
""No, indeed!" cried Mrs. Llewellyn Evans, "you will be doing well, whatever, to hear the will--though no relation, to be sure."
"But at that Gwen Madoc came in, and peered round with an air of importance. "Maybe some one," she said in a low voice, "would like to take a last look at the master?"
"But no one moved. They sighed and shook their heads at one another as if they would like to do so--but no one moved. They were anxious, you see, to hear the will. Only Peggy, who had turned to go out, said, "Yes, Gwen, I should," and slipped out with the old woman.
""There is nothing to keep us now?" said Mr. Hughes, briskly, when the door was closed again. And every one nodding a.s.sent the lawyer went on to read the will, which was not a long one. It was received with a murmur of satisfaction, and much use of pocket-handkerchiefs.
""Very fair," said Mr. Llewellyn Evans. "He was a very clever man, our old friend." All the legatees murmured after him "Very fair!" and a word went round about the home-brewed, and Robert Evans" recipe for it. Then Llewellyn, who thought he ought to be taking the lead at Court now, said it was time to be going to church.
""There is one matter," put in Mr. Griffith Hughes, "which I think ought to be settled while we are all together. You see that there is a--what I may call a charge on the three portions of the property in favour of Miss McNeill."
""Indeed, but what is that you are saying?" Llewellyn cried sharply.
"Do you mean that there is a rent charge?"
""Not exactly a rent charge," said the lawyer.
""No!" cried Llewellyn with a twinkle in his eyes. "Nor any obligation in law whatever?"
""Well, no," Mr. Hughes a.s.sented grudgingly.
""Then," said Llewellyn Evans, getting up and putting his hands in his pockets, while he winked at the others, "we will talk of that another time."
"But Mr. Hughes said, "No!" He was a kind man, and anxious to do the best for the girl, but he somewhat lost his temper. "No!" he said, growing red. "You will observe, if you please, Mr. Evans, that the testator says, "Forthwith--forthwith," so that, as sole executor, it is my duty to ask you to state your intentions now."
""Well, indeed, then," said Llewellyn, changing his face to a kind of blank, "I have no intentions. I think that the family has done more than enough for the girl already."
"And he would say no other. Nor was it to any purpose that the lawyer looked at Mrs. Llewellyn. She was examining the furniture, and feeling the stuffing of the sofa, and did not seem to hear. He could make nothing of the three Evanses, Nant. They all cried, "Yes, indeed!" to what Llewellyn said. Only the Evan Bevans remained, and he turned to them.
""I am sure," he said, addressing himself to them, "that you will do something to carry out the testator"s wishes? Your share under the will, Mr. Bevan, will amount to three hundred a year. This young lady has nothing--no relations, no home. May I take it that you will settle--say fifty pounds a year upon her? It need only be for her life."
"Mr. Bevan fidgeted, but his wife answered the lawyer as bold as bra.s.s. "Certainly not, Mr. Hughes," she said. "If it were twenty pounds now, once for all, or even twenty-five--and Llewellyn and my nephews would say the same--I think we might manage that?"
"But Llewellyn shook his head obstinately. "I have said I have no intentions, and I am a man of my word, whatever!" he answered. "Let the girl go to service. It is what we have wanted her to do. Here are my nephews. They will be liking a young housekeeper."
"Well, they all laughed at this except Mr. Hughes, who gathered up his papers, looking very black, and not thinking of future clients.
Llewellyn, however, did not care a penny for that, but walked to the bell, masterful-like, and rang it. "Tell the undertaker," he said to the servant, "that we are ready."
"It was as if the words had been a signal, for they were followed by an outcry overhead and quick running upon the stairs. The legatees looked uncomfortably at the carpet; the lawyer was blacker than before. He said to himself, "It is that poor child that has fainted!"
The confusion seemed to last some minutes. Then the door was opened, not by the undertaker, but by Gwen Madoc. The mourners rose, they were thankful to see her; to their surprise she pa.s.sed by Llewellyn, and with a frightened face walked across to the lawyer. She whispered something in his ear.
""What!" he cried starting back a pace, and speaking so that the wine-gla.s.ses on the table rattled again. "Do you know what you are saying, woman?"
""It is true," she answered, half-crying, "and no fault of mine neither." Gwen added more in short sentences, which the family, strain their ears as they might, could not overhear.
""I will come!" cried the lawyer. He waved his hand to them to make room for her to pa.s.s out. Then he turned to them, a queer look upon his face; it was not triumph altogether, for there was some doubt and some alarm in it as well. "You will believe me," he said, "that I am as much taken aback as yourselves--that till this moment I have been as much in the dark as any one. It seems--so I am told--that our old friend is not dead."
""What are you meaning!" cried Llewellyn in his turn. "It is not possible!" and he raised his black-gloved hands.
""What I say," Mr. Hughes replied patiently. "I hear--wonderful as it sounds--that he is not dead. Something about a trance, I believe--a mistake discovered in time. I tell you all I know; and however it comes about, it is clear we ought to be glad that Mr. Robert Evans is spared to us."
"With that he was glad to escape from the room. When he was gone, I am told that their faces were very strange to see. There was a long silence. Llewellyn was the first to speak. He swore a big oath and banged his great hand upon the table. "I do not believe it!" he cried.
"I do not believe it! It is a trick!"
"But as he spoke the door opened behind him, and they all turned to see what they had never thought to see, I am sure. They had come to walk in Robert Evans" funeral; and here was the gaunt form of Robert Evans himself coming in, with an arm of Gwen Madoc on one side and of Miss Peggy on the other--Robert Evans beyond doubt alive. Behind him were the lawyer and Dr. Jones, a smile on their lips, and three or four women, half frightened, half wondering.
"The old man was pale, and seemed to totter a little, but when the doctor would have placed a chair for him, he declined it, and stood gazing about him, wonderfully composed for a man just risen from his coffin. He had all his old aspect as he looked upon the family.
Llewellyn"s declaration was still in their ears, and they could find not a word to say either of joy or grief.
""Well, indeed," said Robert, with a dry chuckle, "have none of you a word to throw at me? I am a ghost, I suppose? Ho, ho!" he exclaimed, as his eye fell on the papers which Mr. Hughes had left upon the table. "That is why you are not overjoyed at seeing me. You have been reading my will. Well, Llewellyn! Have not you a word to say to me now you know for what I had got you down?"