The Allen House; Or, Twenty Years Ago and Now

“An honorable ambition,” said I.

“Nor that, sometimes—in moments of weakness, perhaps—my dreams have gone higher. But I am a very young man, and youth is ardent and imaginative,” he added.

“And you have this great advantage,” I replied, “that, with every year added to your life, you may, if you will, grow wiser and stronger. You stand, as all young minds, at the bottom of a ladder. The height to which you climb will depend upon your strength and endurance.”

“If we both live long enough, Doctor, you may see me on the topmost rundle, for I shall climb with unwearying effort.”

He spoke with a fine enthusiasm, that lent a manly beauty to his face.

“Climb on,” I answered, “and you will rise high above the great mass, who are aimless and indolent. But you will have competitors, few, but vigorous and tireless. In the contest for position that you must wage with these, all your powers will be taxed; and if you reach the topmost rundle to which you aspire, success will be, indeed, a proud achievement.”

“I have the will, the ambition, the courage, and the endurance, Doctor,” was his reply. “So, if I fail, the fault will lie here,” and he touched, significantly, his forehead.

“For lack of brains?” said I, smiling.

“Yes. The defect will lie there,” he answered, smiling in return.

“Brains are remarkable for latent capacity. If stimulated, they develop new powers, and this almost without limit. All they want is to be well supplied with the right kind of food, and well worked at the same time.”

“I believe that, Doctor, and find vast encouragement in the thought,” and Wallingford laughed pleasantly.

Our parting words were growing voluminous. So we shook hands again, repeated our mutual good wishes, and separated. In the afternoon he started for Boston, from whence he sailed, on the next day, for England.

This was towards the latter end of June. He was to write to Mrs. Montgomery immediately on his arrival out, and again as soon as he had obtained an interview with the Willoughby family. Early in August, she received his first letter, which was brief, simply announcing his arrival at Liverpool.

About three weeks after the coming of this letter, I received a note from Mrs. Montgomery asking me to call. On meeting her, I noticed something in her manner that struck me as unusual. She did not smile, as was her wont, when we met, her countenance retaining its usual serious expression. I thought she looked paler, and just a little troubled.

“Thank you for calling so promptly, Doctor,” she said. “I am afraid you will think me troublesome. But you have always shown a kindly interest in me, though a stranger; and have proved, in all cases, a sound adviser.”

I bowed, and she continued:

“I have a second letter from Mr. Wallingford. He has, he writes, been well received by my relatives, who had placed in his hands, for examination, a large quantity of papers that belonged to Colonel Willoughby.”

“If they contain any evidence in the right direction, he will be sure to find it,” said I.

“No doubt of that. But”—I thought her voice faltered a little—“the question is solved, and he may return.”

“Solved! How?” I asked quickly.

“I have found the will.”

“What?”

“I have found the will,” she repeated, in a steady tone, “and that solves the question.”

“Is it in your favor?” I asked, and then held my breath for a reply. It came in a firmly uttered—

“No.”

We looked steadily into each other’s face for several moments.

“In whose favor?”

“In favor of Theresa Garcia his wife,” she replied.

“But she is dead,” I answered quickly.

“True—but I am not his heir.”

She said this resolutely.

“She died childless,” said I, “and will not the descent stop with her?—the property reverting to you, as next of kin to Captain Allen?”

“She may have relatives—a brother or sister,” said Mrs. Montgomery.

“That is scarcely probable,” I objected.

“It is possible; and in order to ascertain the fact, all right means ought to, and must be, taken.”

“Where did you find the will?” I inquired.

“Blanche was examining a small drawer in an old secretary, when she accidentally pressed her hand against one side, which yielded. She pressed harder, lad it continued to yield, until it was pushed back several inches. On withdrawing this pressure, the side returned to its place. She then tried to see how far it could be forced in. As soon as it had passed a certain point, a secret drawer, set in vertically, sprung up, and from the side, which fell open, the will dropped out.”

“It is singular,” said I, “that it should come to light just at this time.”

“It is Providential, no doubt,” Mrs. Montgomery remarked.

“What course will you pursue?” I inquired.

“My first step will be to recall Mr. Wallingford.”

“I must take the liberty of a friend, and object to that,” said I.

“On what ground?”

“This will may be worth the paper on which it is written, and no more. If the legatee have no relatives, you stand just where you stood before, and will require the evidence as to identity for which Mr. Wallingford is now in search. Oh, no, Mrs. Montgomery; he must not be recalled.”

The lady mused for a little while, and then said—

“Perhaps you are right, Doctor.”

“I am sure of it,” I replied, speaking earnestly. “This will, if we find it, on examination, to be an instrument executed according to legal forms, puts your rights in jeopardy, though by no means sets them aside.”

“You take the correct view, no doubt,” was her reply to this. Her voice was not so firm as in the beginning. As the probabilities began to show themselves again in her favor, she lost a degree of self-possession.

“Let Mr. Wallingford complete his work,” said I, “and find, if possible, the evidence you require, in case you prove to be the legal heir, as I trust you will. And until his return, the existence of this important document had better remain a secret.”

“Shall I not submit it to Judge Bigelow?”