The Man from Brodney's

by George Barr McCutcheon

  THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S

  By

  George Barr McCutcheon

  Author of The Daughter of Anderson Crow, Graustark,Beverly of Graustark, Brewster's Millions, Nedra, etc.

  With Illustrations by Harrison Fisher

  1908

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I THE LATE MR. SKAGGS II AN EXTRAORDINARY DOCUMENT III INTRODUCING HOLLINGSWORTH CHASE IV THE INDISCREET MR. CHASE V THE ENGLISH INVADE VI THE CHATEAU VII THE BROWNES ARRIVE VIII THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S IX THE ENEMY X THE AMERICAN BAR XI THE SLOUGH OF TRANQUILLITY XII WOMEN AND WOMEN XIII CHASE PERFORMS A MIRACLE XIV THE LANTERN ABOVE XV MR. SAUNDERS HAS A PLAN XVI TWO CALLS FROM THE ENEMY XVII THE PRINCESS GOES GALLOPING XVIII THE BURNING OF THE BUNGALOW XIX CHASE COMES FROM THE CLOUDS XX NEENAH XXI THE PLAGUE IS ANNOUNCED XXII THE CHARITY BALL XXIII THE JOY OF TEMPTATION XXIV SEVERAL PHILOSOPHERS XXV THE DISQUIETING END OF PONG XXVI DEPPINGHAM FALLS ILL XXVII THE TRIAL OF VON BLITZ XXVIII CENTURIES TO FORGET XXIX THE PURSUIT XXX THE PERSIAN ANGEL XXXI A PRESCRIBED MALADY XXXII THE TWO WORLDS XXXIII THE SHIPS THAT PASS XXXIV IN THE SAME GRAVE WITH SKAGGS XXXV A TOAST TO THE PAST XXXVI THE TITLE CLEAR

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  "He saw the Princess for the first time that afternoon"

  "'Don't you intend to present me to Lady Deppingham?'"

  "'No,' she said to herself, 'I told him I was keeping them for him'"

  "He felt that Genevra was still looking into his eyes"

  THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S

  CHAPTER I

  THE LATE MR. SKAGGS

  The death of Taswell Skaggs was stimulating, to say the least,inapplicable though the expression may seem.

  He attained the end of a hale old age by tumbling aimlessly into themouth of a crater on the island of Japat, somewhere in the mysteriousSouth Seas. The volcano was not a large one and the crater, thoughsomewhat threatening at times, was correspondingly minute, whichexplains--in apology--to some extent, his unfortunate misstep.

  Moreover, there is but one volcano on the surface of Japat; it seems allthe more unique that he, who had lived for thirty years or more on theisland, should have stepped into it in broad daylight, especially as itwas he who had tacked up warning placards along every avenue ofapproach.

  Inasmuch as he was more than eighty years old at the time, it would seemto have been a most reprehensible miscalculation on the part of the GrimReaper to have gone to so much trouble.

  But that is neither here nor there.

  Taswell Skaggs was dead and once more remembered. The remark is proper,for the world had quite thoroughly forgotten him during the twenty oddyears immediately preceding his death. It was, however, noticeably worthwhile to remember him at this particular time: he left a last will andtestament that bade fair to distress as well as startle a great manypeople on both sides of the Atlantic, among whom it may be well toinclude certain distinguished members of the legal profession.

  In Boston the law firm of Bowen & Hare was puzzling itself beyond reasonin the effort to anticipate and circumvent the plans of the firm ofBosworth, Newnes & Grapewin, London, E.C.; while on the other side ofthe Atlantic Messrs. Bosworth, Newnes & Grapewin were blindly strugglingto do precisely the same thing in relation to Messrs. Bowen & Hare.

  Without seeking to further involve myself, I shall at once conduct thereader to the nearest of these law offices; he may hear something to hisown interest from Bowen & Hare. We find the partners sitting in theprivate room.

  "Pretty badly tangled, I declare," said Mr. Hare, staring helplessly athis senior partner.

  "Hopelessly," agreed Mr. Bowen, very much as if he had at first intendedto groan.

  Before them on the table lay the contents of a bulky envelope: a longand stupendous letter from their London correspondents and with it acopy of Taswell Skaggs's will. The letter had come in the morning'smail, heralded by a rather vague cablegram the week before. To be brief,Mr. Bowen recently had been named as joint executor of the will,together with Sir John Allencrombie, of London, W.C., one time neighbourof the late Mr. Skaggs. A long and exasperating cablegram had touchedsomewhat irresolutely upon the terms of the will, besides notifying himthat one of the heirs resided in Boston. He was instructed to apprisethis young man of his good fortune. This he delayed in doing until afterhe had obtained more definite information from England. The full andcomplete statement of facts was now before him.

  There was one _very_ important, perhaps imposing feature in connectionwith the old gentleman's will: he was decidedly sound of mind and bodywhen it was uttered.

  When such astute lawyers as Bowen & Hare give up to amazement, the usualforerunner of consternation, it is high time to regard the case asstartling. Their practice was far-reaching and varied; imperviousnesshad been acquired through long years of restraint. But this day theywere sharply ousted from habitual calmness into a state of mindbordering on the ludicrous.

  "Read it again, Bowen."

  "The will?"

  "No; the letter."

  Whereupon Mr. Bowen again read aloud the letter from Bosworth, Newnes &Grapewin, this time slowly and speculatively.

  "They seem as much upset by the situation as we," he observedreflectively.

  "Extraordinary state of affairs, I must say."

  "And I don't know what to do about it--I don't even know how to begin.They're both married."

  "And not to each other."

  "She's the wife of a Lord-knows-what-kind-of-a-lord, and he's married toan uncommonly fine girl, they say, notwithstanding the fact that she haslarger social aspirations than he has means."

  "And if that all-important clause in the will is not carried out to theletter, the whole fortune goes to the bow-wows."

  "Practically the same thing. He calls them 'natives,' that's all. Itlooks to me as though the bow-wows will get the old man's millions. Idon't see how anything short of Providence can alter the situation."

  Mr. Bowen looked out over the house-tops and Mr. Hare laughed softlyunder his breath.

  "Thank heaven, Bowen, he names you as executor, not me."

  "I shall decline to serve. It's an impossible situation, Hare. In thefirst place, Skaggs was not an intimate friend of mine. I met him inConstantinople five years ago and afterward handled some business forhim in New York. He had no right to impose upon me as if------"

  "But why should you hesitate? You have only to wait for the year to rollby and then turn your troubles over to the natives. Young Browne can'tmarry Miss Ruthven inside of a year, simply because there is no MissRuthven. She's Lady--Lady--what's the name?"

  "Deppingham."

  "And Browne already has one Mrs. Browne to his credit, don't you see?Well, that settles it, I'd say. It's hardly probable that Browne willmurder or divorce his wife, nor is it likely that her ladyship wouldhave the courage to dispose of her encumbrance in either way on suchshort notice."

  "But it means millions to them, Hare."

  "That's their unfortunate lookout. You are to act as an executor, not asa matrimonial agent."

  "But, man, it's an outrage to give all of it to those wretchedislanders. Bosworth says that rubies and sapphires grow there likemushrooms."

  "Bosworth also says that the islanders are thrifty, intelligent and willfight for their rights. There are lawyers among them, he says, as wellas jewel diggers and fishermen."

  "Skaggs and Lady Deppingham's grandfather were the only white men whoever lived there long enough to find out what the island had stored upfor civilisation. That's why they bought it outright, but I'm hanged ifI can see why he wants to give it back to the natives."

  "Perhaps he
owes it to them. He doubtless bought it for a song and,contrary to all human belief, he may have resurrected a conscience.Anyhow, there remains a chance for the heirs to break the will."

  "It can't be done, Hare, it can't be done. It's as clean an instrumentas ever survived a man."

  It is, by this time, safe for the reader to assume that Mr. TaswellSkaggs had been a rich man and therefore privileged to be eccentric. Itis also time for the writer to turn the full light upon the tragiccomedy which entertained but did not amuse a select audience of lawyerson both sides of the Atlantic. As this tale has to do with theadventures of Taswell Skaggs's heirs and not with the strange oldgentleman who sleeps his last sleep literally in the midst of the islandof Japat, it is eminently wise to make as little as possible of him.

  Mr. Skaggs came of a sound old country family in upper England, butseems to have married a bit above his station. His wife was serving asgoverness in the home of a certain earl when Taswell won her heart anddragged her from the exalted position of minding other people's childreninto the less conspicuous one of caring for her own. How the uncouthcountry youth--not even a squire--overcame her natural prejudice againstthe lower classes is not for me to explain. Sufficient to announce, theywere married and lived unhappily ever afterward.

  Their only son was killed by a runaway horse when he was twenty, andtheir daughter became the wife of an American named Browne when she wasscarcely out of her teens. It was then that Mr. Skaggs, practicallychildless, determined to make himself wifeless as well.

  He magnanimously deeded the unentailed farm to his wife, turned hissecurities into cash and then set forth upon a voyage of exploration. Itis common history that upon one dark, still night in December he saidgood-bye forever to the farm and its mistress; but it is doubtful ifeither of them heard him.

  To be "jolly well even" with him, Mrs. Skaggs did a most priggish thing.She died six months later. But, before doing so, she made a will inwhich she left the entire estate to her daughter, effectually deprivingthe absent husband of any chance to reclaim his own.

  Taswell Skaggs was in Shanghai when he heard the news. It was on aFriday. His informant was that erstwhile friend, Jack Wyckholme.Naturally, Skaggs felt deeply aggrieved with the fate which permittedhim to capitulate when unconditional surrender was so close at hand. Hislanguage for one brief quarter of an hour did more to upset the progressof Christian endeavour in the Far East than all the idols in the ChineseEmpire.

  "There's nawthin' in England for me, Jackie. My gal's a bloomin'foreigner by this time and she'll sell the bleedin' farm, of course.She's an h'American, God bless 'er 'eart. I daresay if I'd go to 'er andsay I'd like my farm back again she'd want to fork hover, but 'er bloody'usband wouldn't be for that sort of hextravagance. 'E'd boot me off thehisland."

  "The United States isn't an island, Tazzy," explained Mr. Wyckholme,gulping his brandy and soda.

  Mr. Wyckholme was the second son of Sir Somebody-or-other and hadmarried the vicar's daughter. This put him into such bad odour with hisfamily that he hurried off to the dogs--and a goodly sized menageriebesides, if the records of the inebriate's asylum are to be credited.His wife, after enduring him for sixteen years, secured a divorce. Itmay not have been intended as an insult to the scapegoat, but no soonerhad she freed herself from him than his father, Sir Somebody-or-other,took her and her young daughter into the ancestral halls and gave them amuch-needed abiding-place. This left poor Mr. Jack quite completely outin the world--and he proceeded to make the best and the worst of itwhile he had the strength and ambition. Accepting the world as his home,he ventured forth to visit every nook and cranny of it. In course oftime he came upon his old-time neighbour and boyhood friend, TaswellSkaggs, in the city of Shanghai. Neither of them had seen the BritishIsles in two years or more.

  "'Ow do you know?" demanded Taswell.

  "Haven't I been there, old chap? A year or more? It's a rotten big placewhere gentlemen aspire to sell gloves and handkerchiefs and needleworkover the shop counters. At any rate, that's what every one said everyone else was doing, and advised me to--to get a situation doing thesame. You know, Tazzy, I couldn't well afford to starve and I _wouldn't_sell things, so I came away. But it's no island."

  "Well, that's neither here nor there, Jackie. I 'aven't a 'ome and you'aven't a 'ome, and we're wanderers on the face of the earth. My wifeplayed me a beastly trick, dying like that. I say marriage is a bloomingnuisance."

  "Marriage, my boy, is the convalescence from a love affair. One wants toget out the worst way but has to stay in till he's jolly well cured. Formy part, I'm never going back to England."

  "Nor I. It would be just like me, Jackie, to 'ave a relapse and neverget out again."

  The old friends, with tear-dimmed eyes, shook hands and vowed thatnothing short of death should part them during the remainder of theirjourney through life. That night they took an inventory. Jack Wyckholme,gentleman's son and ne'er-do-well, possessed nine pounds and a fraction,an appetite and excellent spirits, while Taswell Skaggs exhibited abalance of one thousand pounds in a Shanghai bank, a fairly successfultrade in Celestial necessities, and an unbounded eagerness to change hisluck.

  "I have a proposition to make to you, Tazzy," said Mr. Wyckholme, latein the night.

  "I think I'll listen to it, Jackie," replied Mr. Skaggs, quite soberly.

  As the outcome of this midnight proposition, Taswell Skaggs and JohnWyckholme arrived, two months later, at the tiny island of Japat,somewhere south of the Arabian Sea, there to remain until their dyingdays and there to accumulate the wealth which gave the first named achance to make an extraordinary will. For thirty years they lived on theisland of Japat. Wyckholme preceded Skaggs to the grave by two wintersand he willed his share of everything to his partner of thirty years'standing. But there was a proviso in Wyckholme's bequest, just as therewas in that of Skaggs. Each had made his will some fifteen years or morebefore death and each had bequeathed his fortune to the survivor. At thedeath of the survivor the entire property was to go to the grandchild ofeach testator, with certain reservations to be mentioned later on, eachhaving, by investigation, discovered that he possessed a singlegrandchild.

  The island of Japat had been the home of a Mohammedan race, theoutgrowth of Arabian adventurers who had fared far from home many yearsbefore Wyckholme happened upon the island by accident. It was a Britishpossession and there were two or three thousand inhabitants, allMohammedans. Skaggs and Wyckholme purchased the land from the natives,protected and eased their rights with the government and proceeded torealise on what the natives had unwittingly prepared for them. In courseof time the natives repented of the deal which gave the Englishmen theright to pick and sell the rubies and other precious stones that theyhad been trading away for such trifles as silks, gewgaws and women; arevolution was imminent. Whereupon the owners organised the entirepopulation into a great stock company, retaining four-fifths of theproperty themselves. This seemed to be a satisfactory arrangement,despite the fact that some of the more warlike leaders were difficult toappease. But, as Messrs. Wyckholme and Skaggs owned the land and theother grants, there was little left for the islanders but arbitration.It is only necessary to add that the beautiful island of Japat, standinglike an emerald in the sapphire waters of the Orient, brought millionsin money to the two men who had been unlucky in love.

  And now, after more than thirty years of voluntary exile, both of themwere dead, and both of them were buried in the heart of an island ofrubies, their deed and their deeds remaining to posterity--withreservations.