"Let us hear all you know about it, major. What was the will about?"

"I left here nearly a year before Mr. Harmer's death, so I do not know much about it. But I remember at that time it was stated that he had left his property between this girl, whose name was Sophy, and the children of a Dr. Ashleigh. By the way, that reminds me, I met Miss Ashleigh in the High Street only yesterday. I knew her again directly, and some one told me she was living with an old woman named Mapleback--no Mapleside, or something of that sort, in the terrace looking over the market. I know she was a great friend of Sophy's, for we used to talk a good deal about it at that time, as this Sophy was the great heiress of the county. I will go up at once, and get her to come down to the poor woman."

"But, major, it is half-past twelve."

"I can't help that," the major said; "it is right the poor woman, whether she be this Sophy or not, should have her friends by her if possible; besides, if this will is correct--which I have no doubt, or the priest would not be so anxious about it--it is but right that Miss Ashleigh should know of it, as if I remember rightly her share is twenty or thirty thousand pounds."

"By Jove!" one of them said, as the major went out, "I wish that some one would wake me up to-night and tell me I had come into a fortune."

And so they continued talking the matter over while Major Charteris went down into the town.

It was about one o'clock when I was woke up by a loud knocking at the door. I thought it must be a mistake, but after a minute it was repeated. I got up and went to the window, and heard Hannah moving overhead. In another minute I heard her throw up her window and ask,--

"What is the matter?"

Then I heard a man's voice below saying,--

"I am really very sorry to disturb you, but does not Miss Ashleigh live here?"

"Yes she does," Hannah said; "but what do you want at this time of night?"

"My name is Major Charteris. I must speak to Miss Ashleigh at once. It is a matter of great importance, almost of life and death, or I would not disturb her at this hour. Please give her my message."

I had struck a light by this time, and began dressing hurriedly. What could he want? what could be the matter? I opened the door and called out to Hannah to put on her things at once, and that I would be ready in five minutes. I do not think I was ever so puzzled in my life as I was while I was dressing at that time. I could not form the slightest conjecture what it could be about--not the slightest. If I had not heard him speak, and listened to his regular tramp as he walked up and down outside, I should have thought that he must have been drinking, and that all this must be some tipsy frolic. But the earnest, steady tones of his voice precluded the possibility of this supposition; and I really could form no other. I do not think I was more than five minutes dressing, and putting my hair in a net, and just as I was ready I heard Hannah coming downstairs. I went out of my room, and down into the parlour. I lit the two candles on the mantelpiece, and then stood anxiously waiting while Hannah unbolted the front door; in another minute the major entered.

"Miss Ashleigh," he began at once, "I had the pleasure of knowing you some years ago, and I trust that you are a.s.sured that I would not needlessly disturb you at this time of the night; but I am sure you will excuse my so doing when you know the cause. You were once great friends, I believe, with Mr. Harmer's grand-daughter,--do you know where she is now?"

"I must first know why you ask, Major Charteris."

"I ask, because at the present moment there is a woman in my quarters in barracks; how she got there I will tell you presently--she is in charge of my wife. She says she is Mr. Harmer's grand-daughter; but whether truly or not, I cannot say. If she is, she is so much altered that I should not have known her."

"Yes, yes," I said, "no doubt it is Sophy. I know she is in this part of the country; but what is the matter with her? and how came she in the barracks?"

"She came in for refuge, Miss Ashleigh; she was dressed as a Roman Catholic priest."

"As a priest!" I exclaimed, astonished.

"Yes, indeed, Miss Ashleigh; and what is most curious, she was followed by a real priest, to escape from whom she took refuge in the barracks; I should not have disturbed you, but she has had a fainting fit, and is now delirious; and I am afraid, by what our doctor says, in a state of great danger. It struck me that you, being connected with Mr. Harmer, might know if it were really his grand-daughter, and, if so, might wish to come to her; so I thought it my duty to come and inform you at once, in spite of the strangeness of the hour."

"I am very much obliged to you, Major Charteris," I said, "very much.

Poor Sophy, what must she have gone through! So this is the end of her search."

"Although I do not know, Miss Ashleigh, exactly to what you allude, I believe from what I know of the circ.u.mstances, and from what the poor lady said to-night, that one consequence has arisen which will, I think, affect you. I have in my rooms a doc.u.ment which she brought with her, and which seemed to be the object of the priest's pursuit. It purports to be the will of the late Mr. Harmer."

"The lost will!" I exclaimed, sitting down in utter astonishment. "Is it possible that Sophy has at last found Mr. Harmer's will?"

"She has, indeed, Miss Ashleigh; at least if I may judge from the appearance and the endors.e.m.e.nt upon it. I believe I have to congratulate you upon its discovery--have I not?"

"You may, indeed," I said. "It leaves me a fortune. However, at present I must think of poor Sophy. I should like to go to her, Major Charteris, very much."

"Mrs. Charteris begged me to say that she hoped you would do so, Miss Ashleigh. Indeed your presence would be a great relief to her, and would take the responsibility off her shoulders. My wife will endeavour to make it as comfortable for you as possible."

"Thank you very much, major; I will go with you at once. Will you be kind enough to wait a few minutes while I awake Mrs. Mapleside, and explain to her what has happened."

Major Charteris a.s.sented, and I went out into the hall, where Hannah had, according to my instructions, waited during the interview, and I astonished her, even more than she had been before, by telling her to go upstairs and put on her things, for that she was to go up to the barracks with me at once. I believe she thought I was mad, and I was obliged to leave her in that belief, as I had no time to enter into explanations with her on this subject. Then I went up to Mrs.

Mapleside's door, and knocked. I was a long time making her hear, for she was a heavy sleeper, and had not been disturbed by all this noise and confusion. When I did make her hear, and she got up and unlocked her door and let me in, I had the greatest difficulty in a.s.suring her that the house was not on fire. Her fears on that point allayed, I had still greater trouble in explaining to her what was really the matter; that Sophy Gregory was lying dangerously ill in the barracks, and that the will was found. All this was for a long time quite incomprehensible to Mrs. Mapleside, who did not know that Sophy was in that part of the country, or that I had seen or heard from her for years.

When she was at last made to understand it, and to know that I was going to inherit a fortune after all, the dear old lady got into the wildest state of excitement and congratulation, and was only calmed down by my speaking of Sophy's illness; after that I had great difficulty in dissuading her from getting up and accompanying me. However, at last I quieted her, and arranged to take Hannah with me, and to send her back at seven o'clock in the morning.

I also impressed very seriously upon her that it was absolutely necessary that she should not breathe a word of all this to a soul; we should endeavour to arrange the whole affair with as little scandal and talk as possible, and therefore it would be most distasteful to all our feelings if the thing was to get abroad. The old lady promised secrecy, and on this occasion I believe really kept her word.

I dressed myself quickly, and then went out with Hannah and the major, and walked to the barracks. On the way the major related at length to me all the occurrences of the night, and from what he told me I could nearly guess how it had all come about.

It felt very strange walking through the streets at that time of night; the major had indeed volunteered to call them up at one of the hotels and get a vehicle for me, but I knew that this would take at least an hour, and so I preferred, strange as it was, walking; it felt still more strange going into the barracks. However, when Major Charteris introduced me to his wife, who received me very kindly, and at once took me in to the room where Sophy was lying, all feelings of strangeness past off, and I forgot everything in the poor girl before me. She was in a terrible state of delirium, and it was at times almost more than Hannah and I could do to keep her down. Her appearance was shocking: her pale cheeks, with a patch of red in their centres, her wild staring eyes, her closely cut hair, the strange streaks of paint upon her face, made her dreadful to see; while her wild screams of terror as she tried to fly from some pursuer, rang in my ears for weeks. All night long she continued to rehea.r.s.e what she had gone through the evening before. Now she was arguing with Miss Harmer, now discovering the will, then listening to the pursuing gig, and then her screams would break out again, and she would writhe in agonies of terror. It was a dreadful night, and I shall never forget it. The doctor never left the room, and Mrs. Charteris came in from time to time, and brought me in some tea, for which I felt very grateful. Towards morning the powerful opiates which the doctor had given her began to take effect, and she sank into a troubled doze.

It was quite impossible, of course, to think of Sophy being moved, and I was very sorry for the dreadful trouble to which we were putting our kind entertainers. However, they would not hear of its being any inconvenience to them, and as it was evident that it might be some considerable time before she could be moved, they gave us up entire possession of their rooms, and moved into the quarters of another married officer in the same building, who happened to be away on leave with his wife. At seven o'clock I sent Hannah home, and got a regular nurse to come in and be with me. I should, I think, have sent for Polly, but she was daily expecting her confinement, and I was to have gone up the very next day to have stayed with her.

At eight o'clock in the morning I sent up a telegram to Mr. Petersfield, asking him to come down to me by the first train, as the will was found, and telling him that he would find me by inquiring for Major Charteris, at the barracks. He came down soon after one o'clock. He was astonished at the will being found, and was, I believe, almost as pleased as I was at the discovery. He was most anxious to know how it was found, and I told him all I knew about Sophy's coming down in disguise and entering into the service of Father Eustace, also what I had gleaned from her ravings during the night, and the fact of her pursuit and taking refuge in the barracks.

Mr. Petersfield was delighted with the story, and said that it was a thousand pities that she had not been born a detective.

We then proceeded to business, and the will was formally opened by Mr.

Petersfield, in the presence of Major and Mrs. Charteris, the doctor, and myself. The lawyer at once declared it to be the genuine doc.u.ment, as he knew the handwriting in which it was drawn up, and could swear to the signatures of his late partner, and of a clerk, still in his office, who were the attesting witnesses. It was couched precisely in the terms which Mr. Harmer had told papa years before, 20,000 to various charities, and the rest, about 150,000, half to Sophy, and the remaining half between Harry, Polly, and me. The only proviso in it with which we were not previously acquainted was, that Harmer Place, with the exception of the chapel, was to be pulled down. The estate itself was specially mentioned as part of Sophy's share, she might sell it if she wished, but if she resided there it was to be in a new house, which he expressly provided was not to be called Harmer Place.

When Mr. Petersfield had finished, he folded up the will, came over and shook my hand, and congratulated me formally, and said that he hoped to continue to act for me as his firm had done so many years for this estate. I laughed, and said that I thought I had sufficient confidence in him to intrust it to his care. He then asked me what I should wish in the matter. I said that at any rate I should wish nothing done until Miss Harmer's death, that she was not expected to live for a week, and that she must not be disturbed; but with that exception I gave him _carte blanche_.

He said that in that case, as soon as he heard of Miss Harmer's death, he should proceed to prove the will, and that he should then notify the firm in London who had acted as the Miss Harmers' solicitors since their brother's death, that the will was in his hands, and that they could inspect it at his office; and he should call upon them to deliver up all the late Mr. Harmer's property in conformity with its provisions, with all acc.u.mulations.

I objected to this last point, but Mr. Petersfield pointed out to me that Miss Harmer had certainly not spent more than her own income, and that, therefore, the interest of all this property had been acc.u.mulating, and would, if we did not claim it, undoubtedly go by her will to the Romish Church. To this I a.s.sented, and he returned to London the same evening in the highest spirits, taking the will with him.

I wrote that afternoon to Polly, telling her the news, and congratulating her as well as myself upon it, and saying that could I have left Sophy, I would have gone up to London at once. I also wrote to Ada, who would I knew be as pleased at the great discovery as I was myself, as it removed any possible feeling of dislike on the part of Lady Desborough to my marriage with Percy, which now promised to turn out, after all, to the satisfaction of all parties.

CHAPTER XIV.

ENJOYING THE SPOILS.

For a long week Sophy Gregory lay between life and death, and the doctors who attended her thought very badly of her case, and doubted much whether--even if, contrary to their expectation, she should ever recover from her illness, and regain her bodily strength--her intellect would not be hopelessly shattered from the effect of the terrible strain it had undergone.

I do not know how I should ever have supported the responsibility and anxiety of that week's watching, had it not been that on the second day of her illness Sophy uttered, in her ravings, a name which I remembered directly I heard it as that of the woman who had brought her up in childhood, and with whom she had stayed for some days when she first came down to Sturry. In her delirium Sophy called wildly to Mammy Green to save and hide her. She plaintively recalled her childish days, and besought her, for the sake of their love in those times, to shelter and protect her.

I immediately sent over to Sturry to her, asking her to come at once, and take charge of her foster-child.

Mrs. Green had been in a terrible state of anxiety, for all sorts of vague rumours were afloat in the village of the strange doings up at the Hall, and of the flight, and pursuit by the priest, concerning the reason for which, even the servant who had driven Father Eustace was ignorant. All that he knew was, "that they had been sent over to Sittingbourne on a fool's errand; and that when they reached home his fellow-servant was found to be missing. That they had then driven up to Harmer Place, and his master had gone in telling him to wait, and had returned in two or three minutes in a state of the greatest excitement, had jumped into the gig, and had told him to drive as hard as he could; and that he believed, from what he said, they were in pursuit of the missing servant. They had not, however, seen anything of her; but when they were nearly at Canterbury, a man, or a boy, he could not say which, who was running before them, had suddenly turned round and fired a pistol in the horse's face. This man had afterwards taken refuge in the barracks, and Father Eustace had gone in after him. What had happened there he could not say: he only knew that his master came out shortly, and did not speak while they drove back to the village, but looked, he thought, quite queer, and cut-up like. Father Eustace had got out at the door, had left him to put the horse up--which the poor thing wanted badly enough, for he had never done such a day's work in his life--and had gone up to the Hall, where he remained till morning."