Three millions! or, The way of the world
o’clock,” continued Mr. Lester. “You will pardon me for inviting this
unwelcome guest, Mr. Hungerford, but I deemed it best that he should be
here,” he added, in a low tone, to Eugene, who stood by his side.
“I am entirely satisfied.”
“I do not think he will come,” said Mr. Lester. “His contingent
interest no longer exists, and I doubt if he will care to see all the
property slip into your hands.”
The eminent trustee chuckled a little. He was so well satisfied that
the doctor would not come, that he had not even deemed it worth his
while to say before that he had invited him.
“Dr. Lynch is not present,” continued the eminent trustee, “and we will
proceed without him.”
“Dr. Lynch,” said Parkinson, throwing open the door at this moment.
“Ah!” ejaculated Mr. Lester, faintly.
“I am here at the request of Mr. Lester,” said Dr. Lynch, as Eugene
stepped forward to receive the guest.
Eugene made no reply; he was courteous, but he said no more than was
necessary to greet the guest. He gave him a seat.
“By the terms of John Hungerford’s will,” Mr. Lester began again, “a
document drawn up with great care by my learned legal friend, whom you
all have the pleasure of meeting on this interesting occasion, it was
provided that the income of the three millions of dollars, the entire
estate of the testator, should be paid over to Eugene Hungerford,
his nephew, as fast as it accrued. This clause, I believe, has been
faithfully and legally carried out, and the trustees have the receipts
for all moneys paid over to Mr. Hungerford.”
Mr. Lester paused and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. It was
important business, and it must look important.
“By the terms of John Hungerford’s will, it further appears,” he
continued, “that if, when testator’s nephew, Eugene, had attained
the age of thirty years, he was the father of a son, who had been
duly named for his father’s uncle, the whole three millions should
be paid over to the nephew. In order to comply with the terms of the
will, and entitle Mr. Hungerford to the absolute possession of the
property, these questions must be answered. First: Is Eugene Hungerford
legally married? Second: Has he a son? Third: Is this son named John
Hungerford?
“During the day, the trustees, with the valuable assistance of the
distinguished legal gentleman, who drew up the original will, have
considered these three questions, embodying the conditions on which
they were to constitute Mr. Hungerford the sole owner of the property,
and they are happy to say that they find full, complete, legal evidence
which satisfies them that the three conditions have been duly and
properly met.
“The trustees find that Mr. Hungerford was duly married to the
estimable lady known as his wife.” Mr. Lester was so intent upon being
verbose that he quite forgot his early view of the marriage. “They were
united by Rev. John Porter. There is no room to doubt the legality of
the marriage; but unpleasant as it is, this matter must be mentioned.”
Mr. Lester made this apology, because, glancing at Mary, he saw that
her face was quite red, and that she was annoyed by the consideration
of the question.
“There being no doubt on this point----”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Lester,” interposed Dr. Lynch, in a bland and
almost supercilious tone, “but there is some doubt about it.”
All eyes were directed towards the doctor. Eugene looked stern
and indignant; the conduct of the unwelcome guest appeared like a
premeditated insult to him. Dick Birch’s fingers were involuntarily
clutched together; he was in condition to lay violent hands on the
doctor. Julia placed her finger upon his arm; and this prevented him
from executing the purpose in his mind.
“Dr. Lynch, do I understand you to raise an objection to the legality
of the marriage?” asked Mr. Lester, now quite startled out of his
propriety by the unexpected event.
“I do raise an objection,” replied the doctor, who was already
revelling in the misery he intended to produce.
“What objection?”
“The marriage was not legal,” he replied, triumphantly, as he glanced
at Eugene.
“The ceremony was performed by the reverend gentleman now present; the
marriage is duly recorded, and there are plenty of witnesses of the
fact.”
“I appeal to your legal adviser, at your side, to say whether or not
these are sufficient to constitute a legal marriage!” said Dr. Lynch,
apparently bent upon prolonging the joy of his triumph, and upon
keeping the parties in suspense as long as he could.
“If the parties are competent to marry, they are sufficient,” said the
lawyer.
“But the parties to this marriage were not competent.”
“What do you mean, you villain!” roared Dick Birch, unable any longer
to repress his rage.
“Soft words, if you please, Mr. Birch,” replied Dr. Lynch, with
affected politeness. “I purpose to prove all I allege.”
“What do you allege, Dr. Lynch?” interposed the lawyer.
“I allege that the lady was not competent to marry. She was the wife of
another man.”
“Her husband was dead.”
“I beg your pardon. He was living.”
“Why don’t you prove it?” demanded Dick Birch.
“I will.”
Dr. Lynch went out of the room, opened the front door, and presently
appeared with the stranger whom he had met at his office.
“Here is my proof,” said he, pointing to the stranger.
It was Eliot Buckstone!
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE LAST OF THE THREE MILLIONS.
Mary did not faint, but all the springs of life within her seemed
to be suddenly dried up, and she clung to the arm of her husband as
though she feared he would be torn from her. The reappearance of Eliot
Buckstone meant only one thing to her--that, whereas she had been the
wife of Eugene Hungerford for five happy years, she was now no longer
his wife. Those two children were Eugene’s by the law of nature, but
not by the law of the land. What was his was not theirs by the cold
formula of the world’s way.
Those who had known Eliot Buckstone were startled by his appearance
among them. Had the dead risen? Had the grave given up its headless
trunk, which, reunited with the temple of the mind, now stood before
them to confuse and confound the living, and wrench asunder the loving
hearts interlocked with each other?
Dr. Lynch stood with folded arms gazing upon his victims. His hour of
triumph, so long waited for, had come. Banished for years from that
mansion, he came now, like an avenging demon, with woe and desolation
in his train. He was satisfied.
“Mr. Lester, you will perceive that I have established the truth of my
statement,” said he, when the party had in some measure recovered from
their astonishment.
“Who is this man?” demanded the principal trustee, unable fully to
comprehend the situation, though he could not help seeing that a
tremendous change had suddenly come over the face of affairs in the
Hungerford family.
“This gentleman is Mr. Eliot Buckstone; he is the legal husband of the
lady who has hitherto been known as Mrs. Eugene Hungerford.”
“Can this be true?”
“She is my wife,” said Eliot Buckstone, hardly raising his eyes from
the floor, upon which he had gazed intently from the moment he entered
the room.
Ross Kingman stepped forward and looked at him. The murdered man was
certainly alive. The grave in the old cemetery contained not the
remains of Eliot Buckstone. The stain of blood no longer rested upon
the brother of Mary. No one doubted the facts, and busy minds were
eagerly seeking the solution of the problem. All looked at Dr. Lynch.
There was a new chapter in the dark history of the murder yet to be
read, and the popular physician was the only man to whom they could
look for a translation.
“Mary, I have done all my evil work now,” said Buckstone, looking
towards Eugene’s wife. “Do not shrink from me. I will leave you now,
and you shall never see my face again.”
“Was this person legally married to Mrs. Hungerford?” asked Mr. Lester.
“She has her marriage certificate and an attested copy of the records,”
interposed the doctor.
“And this was the reason why you were so anxious to establish the
legality of her marriage,” said Eugene, bitterly.
Dr. Lynch bowed coldly, while a devil’s smile gleamed upon his face.
“Mr. Lester, are you satisfied?” demanded he.
“No one seems to dispute your astounding declarations,” answered the
trustee.
“No one can dispute them, sir.”
“Villain, scoundrel, knave, as I took this man to be, I never deemed
him capable of such refined rascality as this,” exclaimed Dick Birch.
“Mr. Birch, your opinions are entirely gratuitous,” sneered the doctor.
“You are a legal gentleman; if you have anything to say in defence of
your friends’ case, why don’t you say it?--not waste your breath in
idle vituperation.”
“I am confounded by the measure of villany to which you have attained.”
“These are not arguments, Mr. Birch,” said the doctor, stiffly.
“The best argument for you would be a hemp rope,” added Dick, stepping
out into the middle of the floor. “I wish to be a gentleman and a
Christian, but I never was so tempted to take a man by the throat as I
am at this moment.”
“Mr. Birch, I do not aspire to be a common blackguard. I cannot hope to
reach your heights in that capacity.”
Dr. Lynch was very angry, but he tried to look dignified and
contemptuous.
“Mr. Lester,” he continued, “I am willing to answer any questions
affecting the matter at issue; but no doubts seem to be raised in
regard to the truth of my assertions. I therefore protest against
further proceedings in this settlement, and claim the half million
which belongs to me by the terms of my step-father’s will.”
“The trustees are not prepared to admit your claim without further
investigation.”
“Certainly; any time you may desire will be cheerfully granted on my
part.”
“Perhaps Mr. Hungerford, who is the only party concerned in opposition
to your interests, may be willing to admit your claim.”
“I am not willing to admit it,” said Eugene, whose breast was racked
with terrible emotions.
“It would be well to settle the matter as quietly as possible,”
suggested the distinguished lawyer from Baltimore. “Perhaps Dr. Lynch
requires nothing more than the payment of his claim, and will be
willing to permit a quiet and amicable adjustment.”
“Dr. Lynch is not disposed to put any one to unnecessary inconvenience;
though he cannot forget that he has been banished from this house like
a knave, and treated as one unworthy to associate with the magnates of
Pine Hill,” added the doctor.
“And you are unworthy; if they were all beggars they would spurn and
despise you,” said Dick Birch.
“You hear, gentlemen, what inducements I have to pursue a conciliatory
policy,” continued the doctor.
“Pursue any policy you please,” added Dick. “Gentlemen, this is all a
farce.”
“Do you think so, Mr. Birch?” demanded Dr. Lynch.
“I do; I know it.”
“Won’t you oblige the company present by proving that it is a farce,”
sneered the doctor.
“I purpose to do so.”
“Will you deny that this gentleman is Mr. Eliot Buckstone?”
“I will not; that gentleman undoubtedly is Mr. Eliot Buckstone, in
spite of some prejudices we might have to the contrary.”
“He was married to the lady who has for several years been known as
Mrs. Eugene Hungerford. Can you deny this?”
“No,” replied Dick. “Do not be alarmed, Mrs. Hungerford.”
“And the marriage was a legal one.”
“No; it was not!” shouted Dick.
“Mr. Birch, you are a rash man to make such a statement.”
“If my rashness does not lead me to put my hand upon your throat, you
need not complain of it.”
“Your threats are idle. Can you prove what you say?” continued Dr.
Lynch, with a sneer.
“I can.”
“Well, why don’t you?”
All eyes were now directed towards Dick Birch. It was an exciting