The Lost Heir

"As the residence of General Mathieson was in Hyde Park Gardens, no doubt the poor child strolled away from the care of a careless nurse, came to the canal, and, walking near the bank, fell in and was drowned. No one could have been more grieved than my client at this, and although it practically put him into possession of a large property, he would, I am sure, gladly forfeit a large portion of it rather than come into possession of it in so melancholy a manner. I have not heard of the slightest reason why the last will of General Mathieson should be put aside. I believe that no question could arise as to his state of mind at the time that it was made. It may be that a plea of undue influence may be raised, but this, to those who knew the General, would appear absurd. He was a man of active habits, and vigorous both in mind and body. Here was no case of a man living in the house and influencing an old gentleman approaching his dotage. They met only at clubs and at dinners; and although the General was rightly and naturally attached to Simcoe, he was certainly not a man to be influenced against his will. I beg, therefore, to ask, my lord, that you will pronounce in favor of this second will, and issue an order to the trustees to carry out its provisions forthwith."

"But upon the face of your appeal to the court, Sir Henry, there is no question as to the validity of the will you propound set up by the trustees?"

"None, my lord. In fact, at the time the case was put down we were ignorant that there would be any attempt on the part of the trustees to dispute the second will, and that they should do so came upon us as a surprise. However, at a consultation between my learned friend and myself just before we came into court, it was agreed that, if your lordship would permit it, we would take the two matters at once. One of the trustees is a member of the firm who are and have been the family lawyers of General Mathieson, and of his father before him, for a long period of years. They are gentlemen of well-known honor, who are, I am sure, as anxious as we are to obtain from your lordship a judicial decision on which they can act."

"It is irregular," the judge said, "but as both parties seemed agreed upon it, it will doubtless save much expense to the estate if the whole matter can be settled at once. I will permit the whole matter to be taken. Now, brother Herbert, we will hear you on the other side."

"I am sorry to say, my lord, that it will be impossible for me to imitate my learned brother in the brevity with which he opened the case. So far from the facts being extremely simple, they are, I may say, of a very complicated nature. We own that we have no explanation to offer with regard to the second will. It was strange, very strange, that General Mathieson, a man of methodical habits, having just drawn up his will, should go to another firm of solicitors and draw up a fresh one, but the fact that the whole of the minor bequests are the same in the two wills is certainly a very strong proof, as also is the fact that the instructions for drafting the will were written by the General himself, or, at any rate, by someone intimately acquainted with the contents of that will, which we admit was difficult to believe could be the case, as the will, from the time it was signed by the General, has not been out of Messrs. Farmer & Pettigrew's hands until it was taken for probate the other day.

"Now, my lord, I trust that you will allow me a certain amount of license while I go into this somewhat singular story. Twenty-three years ago, General Mathieson's life was saved in India by Mr. John Simcoe. Mr. Simcoe himself was seriously wounded, and when he recovered somewhat he was recommended by the surgeon who attended him to go down to Calcutta at once and take a sea voyage. He did so, and embarked upon the ship Nepaul, which was lost in a terrible gale in the Bay of Bengal a few days later, with, as was supposed, all hands. Twenty years passed, and then to the surprise, and I may say to the delight of the General, who had much grieved over the loss of his preserver, Mr. Simcoe presented himself. For a moment the General did not recognize him; but it was not long before he became convinced of his identity, for he knew the officers who had been at the station at the time, and was well up in the gossip of the place, and the General at once hailed him as the man who had saved his life, introduced him to many friends, got him put up at a good club, and became, I may say, very fond of him. Mr. Simcoe brought up a friend or two who had known him at Stowmarket, where he had an aunt still living, and the result of all this was that the General requested Messrs. Farmer & Pettigrew to draw up a new will bequeathing to John Simcoe the sum of ten thousand pounds.

"Then came the singular episode of the second will. A fortnight later, when at dinner at his club, the General was smitten with a strange kind of fit, from which he recovered, but only lived for a few months, a half-paralyzed invalid. He was attended during that time by Dr. Leeds – a gentleman with a very high reputation, and now practicing in Harley Street as a consulting physician. The General was brought up to town, but broke down during the journey and died two days later.

"Now we come to the second strange fact in this strange case. A day before his death his grandson, Walter Rivington, was missing. The efforts of the police, aided by a number of private detectives, failed to obtain any clew to the child until a body was found in the canal at Paddington. That the body was dressed in some of the clothes worn by the child when carried off was unquestionable; but the three persons who knew Walter Rivington best, namely, Miss Covington, a friend of hers named Miss Purcell, who had been all the summer assisting her to nurse General Mathieson, and the child's own nurse, all declared that the body was not that of the General's grandson. They were unable to adduce anything in support of this belief beyond the fact that the hair of the child found was short and to some extent bristly, whereas that of Walter Rivington was long and silky. The jury, however, adopted the view of the coroner that hair, however soft, when cut close to the skull will appear more or less bristly, and gave a verdict to the effect that the body was that of Walter Rivington. Miss Covington and her friends refused to accept the verdict, and continued their search for the child.

"Without occupying your attention by going into details, my lord, I may briefly say that a close watch was set on Mr. Simcoe, and it was found that he was exceedingly intimate with a man of whom no one seemed to know anything; and before I go further I will ask, my lord, that you will give orders that Mr. Simcoe shall not leave the court until I have finished."

"You are not asking without strong reason, I trust, brother Herbert?"

"Certainly not, my lord."

The order was, therefore, given. Simcoe grew very white in the face, but otherwise maintained an air of stolid indifference.

"I will now go back for a moment, my lord. General Mathieson was attended by three of the leading physicians in London at the time of his seizure. The symptoms were so peculiar that in all their experience they had not met a similar case. Dr. Leeds, however, differed from them, but being their junior could not press his opinion; but he told them that his opinion was that the fit was due to the administration of some drug unknown to the British Pharmacopœia, as the effects were precisely similar to those in cases that he had read of in Africa and among other savage people, where a poison of this kind was used by the native fetich men or wizards. That opinion was confirmed rather than diminished by the subsequent progress of the malady and the final death of his patient. The one man who could benefit by the General's death was sitting next to him at dinner at the time of his seizure, and that man, according to his own statement, had been for many years knocking about among the savages of the South Sea Islands and the islands of the Malay Archipelago.

"I do not accuse John Simcoe of this crime, but I need hardly say that the mere possibility of such a thing heightened the strong feeling entertained by Miss Covington that Simcoe was the author of the abduction of Walter Rivington. She and her devoted friend, Miss Purcell, pursued their investigations with unflagging energy. They suspected that the man who was very intimate with Simcoe had acted as his agent in the matter, and a casual remark which was overheard in a singular manner, which will be explained when the case goes into another court, that this man was going to Tilbury, gave them a clew. Then, in a manner which many persons might find it very hard to believe, Miss Covington learned from a conversation between the two men, when together in a box at Her Majesty's Theater, that the lad was in charge of a bargeman living near the little village of Pitsea, in Essex. From that place, my lord, he was brought last week, and Miss Covington will produce him in court, if your lordship wishes to see him. Thus, then, it is immaterial to us whether your lordship pronounces for the first or second will.

"But, my lord, I have not finished my story. Under neither of the wills does that man take a farthing. The money was left to John Simcoe; and John Simcoe was drowned over twenty years ago. The man standing over there is one William Sanderson, a sergeant on the paymaster's staff at Benares when the real John Simcoe was there. There happened to be a resemblance between this man and him, so strong that it was generally remarked upon by his comrades. This man Sanderson deserted soon after Simcoe was drowned, taking with him three hundred pounds of the paymaster's money. There was a sharp hue and cry after him, but he managed to make his escape. All this is a certainty, but we may assume without much difficulty that the man changed his name as soon as he got to Calcutta, and nothing was more likely than that he should take the name of John Simcoe, whom he had been told that he so strongly resembled.

"For twenty years we hear nothing further of William Sanderson, nor do we hear when he returned to London. Probably he, in some way or other, came across the name of General Mathieson, and remembering what John Simcoe had done for the General, he, on the strength of his personal likeness, and the fact that he had, for twenty years, gone by that name, determined to introduce himself to him, with the result you know. He was clever enough to know that he must answer questions as to his history before he left England, and it was desirable to obtain witnesses who would, if necessary, certify to him. But he knew nothing of Simcoe's birthplace or history; so he inserted advertisements in a great number of London and provincial newspapers, saying that the relations of the John Simcoe who was supposed to have been drowned in the Bay of Bengal in the year 1832 would hear of something to their advantage at the address given. A maiden aunt, living at Stowmarket, did reply. He went down there at once, rushed into her arms and called her aunt, and told her that it was his intention to make her comfortable for life by allowing her fifty pounds per annum. He stayed with her for three days, and during that time obtained from her gossip full details of his boyhood and youth, his friends and their occupation, and he then went out and called upon John Simcoe's old companions, all of whom took him on his own word and his knowledge of the past and his recognition by his aunt.

"So things might have remained. This man, after undergoing what punishment might be awarded to him for his abduction of Walter Rivington, could have claimed the ten thousand pounds left him by General Mathieson, had it not been that, by what I cannot but consider a dispensation of Providence, an old comrade of his, Staff-Sergeant Nichol, was attracted to the hall this morning by seeing the name of Simcoe and that of General Mathieson coupled in the cause list. This man was in the hall talking to his professional advisers, and Nichol, walking close to him, to see if he could recognize the man whom he had last seen carried wounded into Benares, at once recognized in the supposed John Simcoe the deserter and thief, Sergeant Sanderson. He passed him two or three times, to assure himself that he was not mistaken. Happily the deserter had a mark that was ineffaceable; he had, as a recruit, let off his rifle, and the ball had passed through the fleshy part of the forearm, leaving there, as Sergeant Nichol has informed me, an ineffaceable scar, blackened by powder. If this man is not Sergeant Sanderson, and is the long-lost John Simcoe, he has but to pull up the sleeve of his left arm and show that it is without scar."

The man did not move; he was half stunned by the sudden and terrible exposure of the whole of his plans. As he did not rise the counsel said:

"My lord, I must ask that you give an order for the arrest of this man, William Sanderson, as a deserter and a thief; also upon the charge of conspiring, with others, the abduction of Walter Rivington."

"Certainly, brother Herbert," the judge said, as he saw that the accused made no motion to answer the challenge of the counsel. "Tipstaff, take that man into custody on the charge of aiding in the abduction of Walter Rivington. As to the other charge, I shall communicate with the authorities of the India Office, and leave it to them to prosecute if they choose to do so. After this lapse of years they may not think it worth while to do so, especially as the man is in custody on a still graver charge."

The tipstaff moved toward the man, who roused himself with a great effort, snatched a small glass ball from a pocket inside his waistcoat, thrust it between his teeth, and bit it into fragments, and, as the officer laid his hand upon him, fell down in a fit. Dr. Leeds, who had come in just as the trial began, rose to his feet.

"I am a doctor, my lord. My name is Leeds, and the opinion I held of the cause of General Mathieson's death is now proved to be correct. The symptoms of this fit are precisely similar to those of General Mathieson's seizure, and this man has taken some of the very poison with which he murdered the General."

For a minute Sanderson struggled in violent convulsions, then, as Dr. Leeds bent over him, his head fell back suddenly. Dr. Leeds felt his pulse and then rose to his feet.

"My lord," he said, "the case is finally closed. He has gone to a higher judgment seat."

CHAPTER XXVI.

A LETTER FROM ABROAD

Three days later, when Hilda returned from a drive, she found that Dr. Leeds was in the drawing room with Miss Purcell and Netta, whose face at once told what had happened.

"I have asked the question at last, Miss Covington," Dr. Leeds said, coming forward to shake hands, "and Netta has consented to be my wife."

"I am heartily glad. That you would ask her I knew from what you told me; and although I knew nothing of her thoughts in the matter, I felt sure that she would hardly say no. Netta, darling, I am glad. Long ago I thought and hoped that this would come about. It seemed to me that it would be such a happy thing."

"Auntie said just the same thing," Netta said, smiling through her tears, as Hilda embraced her. "As you both knew, you ought to have given me some little hint; then I should not have been taken quite by surprise. I might have pretended that I did not quite know my own mind, and ask for time to think it over, instead of surrendering at once."

"But you did make a condition, Netta," Dr. Leeds laughed.

"Not a condition – a request, if you like, but certainly not a condition."

"Netta said that her heart was greatly set on the work she had always looked forward to, and she hoped that I should let her do something in that way still. Of course I have heard you both talk over that institute a score of times, and I was as much impressed as yourselves with the enormous boon that it would be. I should be sorry indeed that the plan should be given up. I need hardly say that in the half hour we have had together we did not go deeply into it, but we will have a general council about it, as soon as we can get down to plain matter of fact. Netta can talk it over with you, and I can talk it over with her; and then we can hold a meeting, with Miss Purcell as president of the committee."

But matters were not finally settled until the ladies were established at Holmwood with Walter, and Dr. Leeds came down for a short holiday of two or three days. Then the arrangements were made to the satisfaction of all parties. A large house, standing in grounds of considerable extent, was to be taken in the suburbs of London, Netta was to be lady superintendent, her aunt assisting in the domestic arrangements. Miss Purcell insisted that her savings should be used for furnishing the house. Hilda was to put in as a loan, for the others would receive it in no other way, five thousand pounds for working capital. She determined to take a house near the institute, so that she could run in and out and assist Netta in teaching. Dr. Leeds was to drive up every morning to Harley Street, where his work was over by two o'clock, except when he had to attend consultations. No arrangements would be necessary about the house, as this was the residence of his partner, and he only had his own set of rooms there. He was steadily making his way, and to his surprise already found that the report in the papers of his successful diagnosis of the cause of General Mathieson's death had resulted in a considerable addition to his practice, as a number of people consulted him on obscure, and in many cases fanciful, maladies, in which they had come to entertain the idea that they were suffering from the effects of poison.

Now that she was going to assist at the institution and had no intention of entering society again in London, Hilda had no longer any objection to the power she had acquired being known, and, when questioned on the subject of the trial, made no secret of the manner in which she had made the discovery at the opera, and mentioned that she was going to assist in an institution that was about to be established for teaching the system by which she had benefited to deaf children.

The matter excited considerable interest in medical circles, and by the time that the institution was ready the number of applicants was greater than could be entertained. By this time Dr. Leeds and Netta were married. The engagement was a short one, and the wedding took place within two months of their going down into the country with Hilda. Being anxious that as many as possible should participate in the benefits of the system, the doors of the institute were at once opened to outdoor pupils, who were boarded in the neighborhood. Six of Netta's pupils in Hanover were brought over as teachers, and a few weeks from its being opened the institution was in full swing. As Dr. Leeds wished that no profit whatever be made by the undertaking, in which desire he was cordially joined by his wife and Hilda, the charges were extremely low, except in the case of children of wealthy parents, the surplus in their case being devoted to taking in, free of payment, children of the poor.

Before Netta's marriage the interest in the Mathieson case was revived by the appearance of a letter in the principal London papers. All search for the man who had assisted Sanderson in the abduction of the child had been fruitless. He had probably taken steps to receive information of how matters were going on in court, and long before an officer arrived at Rose Cottage with a warrant for his arrest he had left, and the police had failed to find any trace of his subsequent movements. The letter bore the simple heading, "United States," and ran as follows:

"To the Editor.

"Sir: I scarcely know why I write this letter, but I suppose even an habitual criminal does not care to remain under an unjust suspicion. I acknowledge that I come under that category, and that my life has been spent in crime, although never once has suspicion attached to me, until I became mixed up in the Simcoe-Mathieson affair. I wish to state solemnly that I was absolutely ignorant that the name John Simcoe was an assumed one. That was the name he gave me when I first knew him, and I believed that he was, as he represented, the man who had saved General Mathieson's life from a tiger. That he had subsequently lived a rough life in the South Seas I was aware, for he came to me with a message sent by a brother of mine when at the point of death. The man had been a chum of his out there and had gallantly carried him off when he had received the wound from which he subsequently died, in a fight with a large body of natives. I have absolute assurance that this was true, for my brother would never have sent anyone to me except under altogether extraordinary circumstances. The man called on me when he first returned to England, but I saw little of him for the first two years, and then he came to me and said that he had looked up General Mathieson, and that the General had taken to him, and put him down in his will for ten thousand pounds. He said that General Mathieson was worth a hundred thousand, and that he had planned to get the whole. Not being in any way squeamish, I agreed at once to help him in any way in my power.

"His plan briefly was that he should obtain a fresh will, appointing him sole heir to the General's estate in the event of a boy of six or seven years old dying before he came of age. He had somehow obtained a copy of the General's will, and had notes in the General's handwriting. There were two things to be done, first that he should get instructions for the draft of the will drawn up in precise imitation of the General's handwriting, containing all the provisions of the former will, except that he was made heir in place of Miss Covington in the event of his grandson's death. There are a dozen men in London who can imitate handwriting so as to defy detection, and I introduced him to one of them, who drew up the instructions. Then I introduced him to a man who is the cleverest I know – and I know most of them – at getting up disguises.

"He had already ascertained that the General had on one occasion been for a minute or two in the offices of Messrs. Halstead & James. They would, therefore, have a vague, and only a vague, remembrance of him. He had obtained a photograph of the General, who was about his own height and figure, and although there was no facial resemblance, the man, by the aid of this photograph, converted him into a likeness of the General that would pass with anyone who had seen him but once casually. So disguised, he went to the offices of these solicitors, told a plausible story, and gave them the written instructions. In the meantime he had been practicing the General's signature, and being a good penman had got to imitate it so accurately that I doubt if any expert would have suspected the forgery. The lawyers were completely deceived, and he had only to go there again three days later, in the same disguise, and sign the will.

"So much for that. Then came the General's seizure. I most solemnly declare that I had no shadow of suspicion that it was not a natural fit, and that if I had had such a suspicion I should have chucked the whole thing over at once, for though, as I have said, an habitual criminal, that is to say, one who plans and directs what may be called sensational robberies, I have always insisted that the men who have worked under me should go unprovided with arms of any kind, and in no case in which I have been concerned has a drop of blood been shed. As to the carrying off of the boy, it was entirely managed by me. I had agents, men on whom I could rely, as a word of mine would have sent them to penal servitude for life. We knew that suspicion would fall upon Simcoe, and that it was important that he should be able to account for every hour of his time. Therefore, on the day the child was carried away he went down to Stowmarket, while I managed the affair and took the child down to the place where he was hidden in the Essex marshes. It was I also who made the arrangements by which the body of the child about the same age, who had died in the workhouse, was placed in the canal in some of the clothes the missing heir had worn when taken away. I owe it to myself to say that in all this there was no question of payment between this man and myself. I am well off, and I acted simply to oblige a man who had stood by the side of my brother to death. Whether his name was Simcoe or Sanderson mattered nothing to me; I should have aided him just the same. But I did believe that it was Simcoe, and that, having risked his life to save that of General Mathieson, he had as good a right as another to his inheritance. He never hinted to me that it would be a good thing if the child was got rid of altogether. He knew well enough that if he had done so I would not only have had nothing to do with it, but that I would have taken steps to have put a stop to his game altogether. Now I have only to add that, having fairly stated the part that I bore in this affair, I have nothing more to say, except that I have now retired from business altogether, and that this is the last that the world will hear of William Sanderson's accomplice."

For four or five years Hilda Covington devoted much of her time to assisting Netta Leeds in her work, but at the end of that time she married. Her husband was a widower, whose wife had died in her first confinement. His name was Desmond. He sold out of the army, and Hilda never had reason to regret that she had played the part of a gypsy woman at Lady Moulton's fête.

Walter grew up strong and healthy, and is one of the most popular men of his county. His early love for the water developed, and he served his time as a midshipman in one of Her Majesty's ships, and passed as a lieutenant. He then retired from the service and bought a fine yacht, which he himself commanded. His friends were never able to understand why he allowed his nominal skipper, William Nibson, to take his wife on board, and gave up two cabins for their accommodation. The barge Walter passed into the hands of Joshua, who, for many years, sailed her most successfully. He is now an elderly man, and his four sons are skippers of as many fine barges, all his own property.

THE END