Torwood's trust

omebody must see Belassis about this, Phil,’ said Tor, when the matter of the will had been discussed many times over, in all its bearings. ‘Either you as Maud’s brother, or I as her prospective husband. Which of us shall it be?’

‘Oh, you,’ answered Phil quickly. ‘I shouldn’t know what to say.’

‘All right,’ returned Tor. ‘I’ll go—and the sooner he knows his fate, the better.’

‘It may be vindictive on my part,’ remarked Miss Marjory, ‘but I must say that I feel a savage satisfaction in picturing the overthrow of Belassis.’

Maud laughed at her look and tone.

‘I’m afraid he won’t be so very much overthrown, Miss Marjory. You see, he has quarrelled with Lewis, so he will not care so very much which of us has the money.’

‘Perhaps he wouldn’t, if there was any money to have; but as he has lost it all, he will care considerably. Lewis would hardly have sued his own father and ruined him; but your natural guardians, Maud, have no choice; and your worthy uncle will be brought to his bearings, as he richly deserves to be.’

Maud began to look grave; but Mrs. Lorraine’s voice now took up the word.

‘Not quite ruined—for Celia has four hundred a year settled upon her, which cannot be touched. It will keep them from actual poverty when the rest goes. I thought it a little hard once,’ continued Aunt Olive, with a smile; ‘for it was half what was to have been my portion—only father cut me off, and divided it between Maud and Celia, and settled it upon them. I am glad now; for I should not like Celia to be robbed of all by her bad husband, and I am so well looked after now, that I want for nothing myself.’

‘Well, I’m glad that it’s not absolute ruin for them,’ said Tor, pulling at his moustache. ‘Because the innocent always have to suffer with the guilty, and it would fall hardly on his family, richly as he deserves it all himself. Justice must be done, of course. A trustee cannot be allowed to get off, after simply robbing the legatee of her entire fortune; but it would make it harder to execute justice, if it meant absolute penury for the whole family.’

‘Don’t be soft, Torrington Torwood,’ said Miss Marjory warningly; ‘remember that Belassis made Maud’s father’s life a burden to him, and robbed Phil of every vestige of his inheritance. He is not worthy of your compassion. If justice never overtook the wicked, the world would come to an end faster than it is doing already.’

So after luncheon Tor started for Thornton House, with everybody’s consent that he should make his own terms with Belassis.

Maud, of course, trusted him in everything, and would be satisfied with whatever arrangement he chose to make. Phil knew his friend would manage matters much better than he could do himself; and Mrs. Lorraine always felt sure that the ‘first Phil,’ as she often called him, could be trusted to be firm and just, and yet considerate and temperate, with all with whom he came in contact.

Perhaps Tor did not altogether relish his errand, although there was a certain satisfaction in confronting the foe, with the winning card in his hand. Nevertheless, he thought the matter would be better managed by himself than by Phil, who was likely to be too yielding one moment, and too hard the next, according as each side of the question came uppermost.

Again he found Mr. and Mrs. Belassis alone together in the study, and he fancied they looked surprised and uneasy at his appearance.

He shook hands easily and pleasantly, for in spite of their many attempts, he had never allowed himself to be drawn into a quarrel, and had always treated them with a cheerful politeness, which even the hard words given and received had never entirely overset.

‘I hope your late hours have not been too much for you,’ he remarked with a smile, as he took a chair opposite Mrs. Belassis. ‘It is not all of us who can sit up till dawn, and not feel the effects of it afterwards.’

Dead silence followed this speech. Mr. Belassis began to grow purple. Mrs. Belassis closed her lips tightly, and looked Tor full in the face, with eyes which seemed as if they would fain read his very soul.

Had Betsy Long betrayed her?

‘I do not know what you are talking about, Mr. Torwood,’ she said at last.

‘No? I was alluding to your visit to Ladywell last night; and hoping that your late, or rather early hours, and a two miles walk at the end of it, had not disagreed with you.’

‘Ladywell!’ gasped Belassis, with his usual insane attempt to escape from the inevitable. ‘I haven’t even been to Ladywell for weeks!’

‘Then it must have been your double I saw,’ answered Tor. ‘A double is a nasty thing, Mr. Belassis, especially when it performs such questionable actions as yours does—stealing into people’s houses at the dead of night, in order to find and destroy legal papers of great value. I should try to rid myself of such a Doppelgänger, if I were you, or you may find it lead you into trouble some day.’

The colour had all faded from Mrs. Belassis’ face. She looked grey and ghastly.

‘Speak out!’ she said hoarsely. ‘Say at once what it is you have come for.’

‘I have come to thank you for a very valuable discovery which you have enabled us to make.’

‘Discovery!’

‘Yes; the discovery of certain papers which, but for you, would without doubt have mouldered away, unknown and unsuspected, behind the woodwork of the Ladywell library. Your nocturnal attempts to discover these same papers, and your certainty of their whereabouts, enabled others with better opportunities to make the discovery you failed to do; but it is to you, and you only, that we owe the clue. Without the information you gave us, the papers would without doubt have remained for generations in their hiding-place, which has so well concealed them for eighteen years.’

‘Papers!’ gasped Belassis; ‘what papers?’

‘Betsy Long has betrayed us!’ exclaimed his wife, in the same breath.

‘Not at all,’ answered Tor quietly. ‘Your spy, whom you so cleverly and honourably manœuvred for me to take into my service, has been loyal to you—more loyal than such creatures generally are. I am surprised that a clever woman like you, Mrs. Belassis, should stoop to use so clumsy a tool. However, such good service has been done us by all this, that it is not for me to complain. Your spy, who has been really your servant, not ours, is coming back to you this afternoon. I wish you joy of her, after the training you have thought fit to bestow upon her. No, she has not betrayed you; make yourself quite easy on that score. You betrayed yourselves by the sounds you made, and I had the pleasure and profit of seeing and hearing a good deal that passed in the library last night. It may be a satisfaction to you to hear that the papers you were so anxious about have now been found; and you are welcome to see them for yourselves any day you wish, by coming over to Ladywell.’

Mrs. Belassis was pale with rage and dismay, her husband with abject fear.

‘What papers?’ he gasped again.

‘Philip Debenham’s last will and testament—the one you were so certain he would frame, if he could, to cancel the one you wrung from him by the extraordinary influence you had obtained over him. It is all exactly as you thought. He did make another will, and hid it away at Ladywell, out of your reach. You have betrayed your own secret, and thanks to you, that will is now in our possession.’

Belassis could not speak. After a few minutes’ pause his wife asked:

‘And what are its terms?’

‘Not any which ought to affect you—simply that Maud inherits her mother’s fortune, principal and interest, without any condition whatever. You best know how this transfer will affect you; as I said before, apart from your paternal feeling for your son, the matter should not make the smallest difference to you.’

Belassis’ face was white and rigid.

‘It will only ruin me, that’s all.’

‘You mean to say that you have lost the money?’ asked Tor coolly.

‘Yes.’

‘Then of course you will have to make good the loss.’

‘I cannot—I have been very unlucky. I don’t know how to lay my hands upon five thousand, let alone twenty, and it will come to that and more, with compound interest for all these years.’

‘Well, Mr. Belassis, you understand your own affairs best, but you know the money will have to be paid.’

‘I cannot pay it, I tell you!’

‘You should have considered all that before you thought fit to speculate with it. Now you have no alternative in the matter. You chose to spend another person’s money, and you must repay it. The whole thing is as plain as a pikestaff.’

‘I can’t—I tell you I can’t!’

‘You will soon find that you are obliged.’

‘I say I can’t!’ cried Belassis, waxing desperate. ‘You can’t get blood out of a stone.’

‘No, but you can get money out of an estate. You must sell your property, or transfer it, in part payment. The thing is perfectly simple.’

‘What!’ groaned Belassis, driven to bay; ‘do you mean to tell me that my own niece would dare to turn me out of my house, to die like a dog upon the highroad, because I have been so unfortunate as to lose some money, which I was endeavouring to turn to good account for her benefit? Do you mean to tell me that?’

‘I mean to tell you,’ answered Tor, repressing a strong inclination to punch the old rascal’s head, ‘that the law will oblige you to restore stolen property. You have squandered away Maud’s inheritance in order to enrich yourself, and now you will have to take the consequences, and lose your own. You cannot play fast and loose with other people’s money and not suffer for it. You cannot have your cake and eat your cake too. You chose your own course of action, and now you must abide by the results.’

‘My own niece would ruin me,’ moaned Belassis, ‘whom I have reared like my own, and treated as a daughter. I never thought to see a day like this! I could not have believed it possible. I will not believe dear Maud means to be so cruel.’

‘Now, Mr. Belassis, I think we have had enough of that,’ said Tor firmly, and the look in his eye made Belassis quail and cease his lamentations. ‘You have been the worst enemy the Debenhams have ever had or are likely to have, and you know it as well as I. You made the first Philip Debenham’s life wretched by the mysterious power you obtained over him; and you deprived his son of all his inheritance; for you know as well as I, that it was thanks to you that nothing remained of the father’s property. You nearly performed the same kind office for Maud; and it is by a mere accident that this second great wrong has not been successfully consummated. And yet you think it well to bring forward your claim of relationship, and hope to escape your well-merited chastisement by throwing yourself upon the mercy of the Debenhams! What mercy do you think you deserve from their hands?’

Belassis shrank into himself, and made no attempt at a reply. It was his wife who spoke first.

‘What do you mean to do?’

‘I have come here to ask what you mean to do.’

‘I can’t do anything,’ groaned Belassis.

His wife gave him a look of withering contempt, and Tor said quietly:

‘You will pretty soon find you have to do something, Mr. Belassis. What is the value of the property you own? You have about a couple of hundred acres, and the farm, have you not, and this house?’

‘I will never give up my property!’ cried Belassis fiercely. ‘I will fight for it to the death!’

‘Now look here, Mr. Belassis,’ said Tor, in the voice which never failed to arrest attention, ‘I’ve not got an unlimited store of patience, and if you exhaust it, you will find it all the worse for yourself. You know you will have to refund to Maud the money you chose to throw away; you understand the law better than I do, and I know that you are responsible for its restoration. And if you force us to appeal to the law, you will find yourself in a much worse position than if you come to terms quietly with us. There will be all the costs to pay, and your name will be known throughout the country as that of a dishonest trustee. I am empowered to act for Maud, and if you will arrange matters with me, you will find yourself fairly treated, and a due allowance made for the value of your property; but if you go too far, I shall simply decline to negotiate with you, and you will be forced to sell the property at what it will fetch, in order to make good the lost money. In these days, when land is a drug in the market, I leave you to judge which course is most in accordance with your own interests. It is a matter of no importance to me.’

Belassis was silenced; he began to see once again that the man before him was more than his match.

‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked sullenly enough.

‘The only thing left for you to do—hand over the property to Maud, as payment or part payment of what you owe.’

‘It is worth far more than the sum I owe.’

‘That remains to be proved. We must have a valuation. We will each appoint an agent, and abide by their united decision. No doubt all that can be easily arranged later. You will be fairly dealt by, Mr. Belassis. We shall not do as we have been done by.’

‘Do you mean to insult me?’

‘Certainly not, unless the truth is an insult. If so, whose fault is it?’

Belassis grew a dusky red. He dared not answer Tor; but it was not pleasant to sit under his eye and hear such remarks made.

‘And I suppose I shall have to go on the parish,’ he remarked presently. ‘My virtuous relatives will combine to drive me there.’

‘Well, you can settle that point with Mrs. Belassis,’ answered Tor. ‘As, by a lucky chance, you really did marry her, perhaps she may consent to allow you to subsist upon her private income, which will keep her in comfort. If she does, you will get more than you deserve at her hands; but that is a question with which I have nothing to do. Mrs. Belassis, no doubt, will tell you her views on it later.’

Mrs. Belassis looked as if she meant to tell her husband her views on a variety of subjects as soon they were left in private, but all she said was:

‘Have you finished the business upon which you came, Mr. Torwood?’

He rose, not at all unwilling to take his departure.

‘Yes, I think you understand all that is needful now. You can make your arrangements, and communicate either with me direct, or through Mr. Twyne, as you like best. If you wish to see the late Philip Debenham’s will you can do so. We will not hurry you needlessly, but remember that we wish to avoid unnecessary delays, which can only be a vexation to both parties.’

And then Tor bowed himself out, feeling that Mrs. Belassis would soon bring her husband to sense and reason, and that he could now, metaphorically speaking, wash his hands of all further dealings with them.

He had not got very far from the house before he met Maud, who had come out with the intention of waylaying him.

‘Well, Tor,’ she said, ‘what has happened? How did they take it?’

‘Pretty much as one might have expected—he like a coward and a sneak, she like a proud woman. She’s no favourite of mine, Mrs. Belassis, but she has good pluck.’

‘And—and—is what Miss Marjory said true? Will they be——’

‘Ruined? Well, not absolutely, because Mrs. Belassis has property; but they will have to sell their place; and I should think they would prefer to retire from this part of the country altogether.’

‘Oh, what a good thing!’ cried Maud, with enthusiasm. ‘I never could bear to think of living near Uncle and Aunt Belassis; and yet I do so like Ladywell, and should not care to go far away. You are going to live somewhere near here when—when we’re married, aren’t you, Tor?’

‘Yes, certainly; if you wish it, little sweetheart! What should you say to Thornton House?’

‘I hate Thornton House!’ cried Maud, with energy and decision.

‘You mustn’t hate it, Maud; for it will soon be your own property.’

‘Mine!’

‘Yes; it is the only way Belassis can pay what he owes, by making over the property to you. I knew you wanted a house near Ladywell, and I have means to keep it up; so, as it seemed the only way of getting the money, it stands just as I have said.’

Maud’s face brightened, and she began to smile.

‘It’s delightful to think of having a house of our own, Tor; and it seems to bring things so home to one, when it is really almost settled; only—only—I did so hate Thornton House when I lived there—I have always hated it!’

‘It will not be Thornton House under us, Maud; we will call it Ladywell Lodge. And I’ll undertake that when the present occupants have cleared out with all their belongings, and my work-people have been all through the house, decorating and furnishing, and when Miss Marjory has laid out the gardens anew, I’ll undertake then that you shall not know the place again. Will that satisfy you?’

Maud looked up at him with dancing eyes.

‘Of course it will! I should be satisfied with anything in the world, if you had the arranging of it!’

‘It could be made a very pretty place, I have often thought, differently arranged both inside and out. Mr. and Mrs. Belassis were hardly people of taste; and their house and garden show it. You and I, Maud, will make it look very different.’

‘Oh yes!’ cried Maud eagerly. ‘I’m sure we can. And when it is once our house, and Ladywell Lodge, it will never remind me one bit of that horrid old Thornton House. Oh, we shall be very, very happy! I can’t understand sometimes how it is that I am so happy, and that everything has come round so delightfully! Suppose Phil had not had that sunstroke, and you had not come over! Oh dear! oh dear! I believe I should have been Mrs. Lewis Belassis by this time!’

‘Horrid thought!’ laughed Tor, pressing closer to him the little hand which lay upon his arm. ‘You never seem to have borne me any malice for the trick I played upon you, Maud; and the unwarrantable liberties I took.’

She looked up, smiling archly.

‘I hardly had time to get thoroughly angry with you, before you came and surprised me in the garden. I never had any chance of showing how dignified I can be when I am offended.’

‘You certainly never did show it. I think I came off with flying colours all round. I had always looked forward with some dread to facing you all, after the revelation was made; but even that did not prove a very trying ordeal!’

‘You bad boy!’ said Maud; ‘you took care to get your own way with me, as you do with everybody else. Why did you never confide in me, Tor; and tell me the truth, when you began to get uneasy about how things would turn out? I think you might have trusted me.’

‘So I did; but I felt it would make your position a very trying one. Indeed, I think it would have been worse for both of us. And how could I tell how you would like to hear of your brother’s helplessness, and see another acting in his place? It might have turned you against me!’

‘Oh, Tor!’ said Maud; ‘you know you don’t think that!’

‘What?’

‘That I should ever have turned against you?’

‘Why should you not?’

She looked up at him and shook her head gravely.

‘You can’t guess, of course?’

‘I was never much of a hand at guessing.’

‘No? Well, then you had better remain in ignorance.’

‘I don’t want to remain in ignorance. I want you to tell me.’

‘As if you did not know!’

‘Tell me, I say.’

‘I’m not sure if I will.’

‘But I am—quite sure. Come, Maud; how long am I to be kept waiting?’

‘You deserve to be kept all night, you tyrant! but you always do manage to get your own way. You know it is because—I love you with my whole heart!’

And with that answer Tor seemed content.