The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly

“But you are no stranger to me.”

“Indeed! I remarked you called me by my name; but I’m not aware that you know more of me.”

“I can afford to rival your own candor, and confess I know a great deal about you.”

“Then you have read a very checkered page, sir. What an admirable cigar. You import these, I’d wager?”

“No, but it comes to the same. I buy them in bond, and pay the duty.”

“Yours is the only country to live in, sir. It has been the dream of my life to pass my last days in England.”

“Why not do so? I can’t imagine that Aix will prefer any strong claims in preference.”

“No, I don’t care for Aix, though it is pretty, and I have passed some days of happy tranquillity on that little Lac de Bourges; but to return: to what fortunate circumstance am I indebted for the knowledge you possess of my biography?”

“You have been a very interesting subject to me for some time back. First of all, I ought to say that I enjoy the pleasure of your son’s acquaintance.”

“A charming young man, I am told,” said he, puffing out a long column of smoke.

“And without flattery, I repeat it, – a charming young man, good-looking, accomplished, high-spirited and brave.”

“You delight me, sir. What a misfortune for the poor fellow that his antecedents have not been more favorable; but you see, Mr. – ”

“Cutbill is my name.”

“Mr. Cutbill, you see that I have not only had a great many irons in the fire through life, but occasionally it has happened to me that I took hold of them by the hot ends.”

“And burned your fingers?”

“And burned my fingers.”

They walked on some steps in silence, when Baldassare said, —

“Where, may I ask, did you last see my son?”

“I saw him last in Ireland, about four months ago. We travelled over together from England, and I visited a place called Castello, in his company, – the seat of the Bramleigh family.”

“Then you know his object in having gone there? You know who he is, what he represents, what he claims?”

“I know the whole story by heart.”

“Will you favor me with your version of it?”

“With pleasure; but here is the carriage. Let us get in, for the narrative is somewhat long and complicated.”

“Before you begin, sir, one question: where is my son now? is he at Rome?”

“He is; he arrived there on Tuesday last.”

“That is enough, – excuse my interrupting, – I am now at your orders.”

The reader will readily excuse me if I do not follow Mr. Cutbill in his story, which he told at full length, and with what showed a perfect knowledge of all the circumstances. It is true he was so far disingenuous that he did not confess the claim had ever created alarm to the minds of the Bramleighs. There were certain difficulties, he admitted, and no small expense incurred in obtaining information abroad, and proving, as it was distinctly proved, that no issue of Montague Bramleigh had survived, and that the pretensions of Pracontal were totally groundless.

“And your visit to Savoy was on this very business?” asked Baldassare.

“You are right; a small detail was wanting which I was able to supply.”

“And how does Anatole bear the discovery?”

“He has not heard of it; he is at Rome, paying court to an English lady of rank to whom he hopes to be married.”

“And how will he bear it; in what spirit will he meet the blow?”

“From what I have seen of him, I ‘d say he ‘d stand up nobly under misfortune, and not less so here, that I know he firmly believed in his right; he was no party to the fraud.”

“These frauds, as you call them, succeed every day, and when they occur in high places we have more courteous names to call them by. What say you to the empire in France?”

“I’ll not discuss that question with you; it takes too wide a range.”

“Anatole must bethink him of some other livelihood now, that’s clear. I mean to tell him so.”

“You intend to see him – to speak with him?”

“What, sir, do you doubt it? Is it because my wife rejects me that I am to be lost to the ties of parental affection?” He said this with a coarse and undisguised mockery, and then, suddenly changing to a tone of earnestness, added, “We shall have to link our fortunes now, and there are not many men who can give an adventurer such counsels as I can.”

“From what I know of the Bramleighs, they would willingly befriend him if they knew how, or in what way to do it.”

“Nothing easier. All men’s professions can be brought to an easy test, – so long as money exists.”

“Let me know where to write to you, and I will see what can be done.”

“Or, rather, let me have your address, for my whereabouts is somewhat uncertain.”

Cutbill wrote his name and Cattaro on a slip of paper, and the old fellow smiled grimly, and said, “Ah! that was your clew, then, to this discovery. I knew Giacomo died there, but it was a most unlikely spot to track him to. Nothing but chance, the merest chance, could have led to it?”

This he said interrogatively; but Cutbill made no reply.

“You don’t care to imitate my frankness, sir; and I am not surprised at it. It is only a fellow who has worn rags for years that does n’t fear nakedness. Is my son travelling alone, or has he a companion?”

“He had a companion some short time back; but I do not know if they are together now.”

“I shall learn all that at Rome.”

“And have you no fears to be seen there? Will the authorities not meddle with you?”

“Far from it. It is the one state in Europe where men like myself enjoy liberty. They often need us, – they fear us always.”

Cutbill was silent for some time. He seemed like one revolving some project in his mind, but unable to decide on what he should do. At last he said, —