The Lost Heir

  CHAPTER XXV.

  A CRUSHING EXPOSURE.

  The case of the application by John Simcoe for an order for the trusteesof the will of the late General Mathieson to carry its provisions intoeffect was on the list of cases for the day. Tom Roberts was walking upand down in Westminster Hall, waiting for it to come on, when he saw aface he knew.

  "Hullo, Sergeant Nichol, what brings you here?"

  "Just curiosity, Roberts. I happened to see in the list of cases one ofSimcoe against the trustees of General Mathieson. 'What,' I said tohimself, 'Simcoe? That is the name of the chap who saved GeneralMathieson's life.' I remember their being both brought into cantonment,as well as if it were yesterday. I was with Paymaster-SergeantSanderson, the fellow who bolted a short time afterwards with threehundred pounds from the pay-chest and never was heard of afterwards. Weheard that Simcoe was drowned at sea; and sorry we all were, for abraver fellow never stepped in shoe leather, and there was not a manthere who did not feel that he owed him a debt of gratitude for savingthe brigadier's life. So when I saw the paper I said to myself, 'Eitherthe man was not drowned at all, or he must be some relation of his. Iwill go into court and have a look at him.'"

  "It is the same man, but I am sorry to say that, though he may be asbrave as a lion, he is a rogue. But you can see him without going intocourt. That is him, talking with the man in a wig and gown and thatlittle man in black, who is, I suppose, his lawyer. He knows me, so Iwon't go near him; but you can walk as close as you like to him, andtake a good look at him."

  Not content with looking once, Sergeant Nichol passed him backwards andforwards three times. When he rejoined Roberts the latter saw that helooked flushed and excited.

  "What is it, sergeant?"

  "I don't believe it is Simcoe at all," the sergeant said. "It is thatman Sanderson I was speaking about just now. Several of us noticed howlike he was to Simcoe, but the expression of their faces was different.Simcoe was five or six years younger, and had a pleasant expression;Sanderson had a hard face. None of us liked him, he was a man one couldnever get friendly with; you might be in the same mess for years and notknow more about him at the end than you did at the beginning. Of course,they would both be changed a good deal by this time, but I don't believethat Simcoe would have grown so as to be like this man; and I am surethat Sanderson would. He had a mark on him that I should know him by.One day when he was a recruit his musket went off, and the ball wentthrough his left forearm. It was only a flesh wound, but it left ablackened scar, and I will bet all that I am worth that if you turned upthat fellow's sleeve you would find it there."

  "That is very important, sergeant. I will go and tell my young lady; sheis talking with her lawyers and Colonel Bulstrode at the other end ofthe hall."

  Hilda clapped her hands.

  "What do you say now, Mr. Pettigrew? I was right, after all. Bring yourfriend up, Roberts, and let us hear his story ourselves."

  Sergeant Nichol was fetched, and repeated the story that he had told toRoberts.

  "Thank you very much, sergeant," the barrister said. "Please remain herewhile we talk it over. What do you think of this, Mr. Pettigrew?"

  "It would seem to explain the whole matter that has puzzled us so. I didnot tell you, because it was not in my opinion at all necessary to thecase, that Miss Covington has always maintained that the man was notSimcoe, and so positive was she that her friend, Miss Purcell, went downto Stowmarket to make inquiries. It was certainly believed by hisfriends there that he was Simcoe, and this to my mind was quiteconclusive. But I am bound to say that it did not satisfy MissCovington."

  "May I ask, Miss Covington, why you took up that opinion in the firstplace?"

  "Because I was convinced that he was not the sort of man who would haverisked his life for another. After Miss Purcell came back fromStowmarket we found out that just before he called on my uncle headvertised for relatives of the late John Simcoe, and that theadvertisement appeared not in the Suffolk papers only, but in the Londonand provincial papers all over the country; and it was evident, if thisman was John Simcoe, he would not advertise all over England, instead ofgoing down to Stowmarket, where his family lived, and where he himselfhad lived for years. He received a reply from an old lady, an aunt ofJohn Simcoe's, living there, went down and saluted her as his aunt, atonce offered to settle a pension of fifty pounds a year on her, andafter remaining for three days in her house, no doubt listening to hergossip about all John Simcoe's friends, went and introduced himself tothem. There was probably some resemblance in height and figure, and anabsence of twenty years would have effected a change in his face, sothat, when it was found that his aunt unhesitatingly accepted him, thepeople there had no doubt whatever that it was their old acquaintance.Therefore, this in no way shook my belief that he was not the man.

  "It turns out now, you see, that there was another man at Benares at thetime who was remarkably like him, and that this man was a scoundrel anda thief. When he deserted no doubt he would take another name, andhaving doubtless heard that John Simcoe was dead, and remembering theremarks made as to his likeness to him, he was as likely to take thatname as any other, though probably not with any idea of making anyspecial use of it. When in England he may have heard GeneralMathieson's name mentioned, and remembering that Simcoe had saved thelife of the General, may have thought that the name and the likenessmight enable him to personate the man. He first set about establishinghis identity by going down to Stowmarket, and after that it was easy. Ihave thought it all over so many times that although it never struck methat there might have been at Benares some man bearing a strikingresemblance to John Simcoe, all the rest is exactly as I had figured itout to my mind. Now I will leave you, gentlemen, to decide what use youwill make of the discovery, while I go and tell my friends of it."

  The seats allotted to the general public were empty, as a case of thissort offered but slight attraction even to the loungers in the hall, buta large number of barristers were present. It had been whispered aboutthat there were likely to be some unexpected developments in the case.The counsel engaged on both sides were the leaders of the profession,who could hardly have been expected to be retained in a mere case of aformal application for an order for trustees to act upon a will.

  "The facts of the case, my lord," the counsel who led for John Simcoecommenced, "are simple, and we are at a loss to understand how thetrustees of the late General Mathieson can offer any opposition to ourobtaining the order asked for. Nothing can be more straightforward thanthe facts. The late General Mathieson, early in March, 1852, made awill, which was duly signed and witnessed, bequeathing, among otherlegacies, the amount of ten thousand pounds to Mr. John Simcoe, as amark of his gratitude for his having saved him from a tiger some twentyyears before in India. The act was one of heroic bravery, and Mr. Simcoenearly lost his own life in saving that of the General."

  He then related with dramatic power the incidents of the struggle.

  "There is, then, no matter of surprise that this large legacy shouldhave been left to Mr. Simcoe by the General, who was a man ofconsiderable wealth. The bulk of the property was left to his grandson,and in the event of his dying before coming of age it was to go to aniece, a Miss Covington, to whom only a small legacy was left; she beingherself mistress of an estate and well provided for. Two monthsafterwards the General, upon reflection, decided to enlarge his gift toMr. Simcoe, and he, therefore, in another will named him, in place ofMiss Covington, who was amply provided for, his heir in the event of hisgrandson's death. I may say that the second will was not drawn up by thesolicitors who had framed the first will. Probably, as often happens,the General preferred that the change he had effected should not beknown until after his death, even to his family solicitors. He,therefore, went to a firm of equal respectability and standing, Messrs.Halstead & James, who have made an affidavit that he interviewed thempersonally on the matter, and gave them written instructions for drawingup his will, and signed it in their presence.

  "I may say th
at in all other respects, including the legacy of tenthousand pounds, the wills were absolutely identical. The trustees,after waiting until the last day permitted by law, have, to our client'ssurprise, proved the first of these two wills, ignoring the second; onwhat ground I am at a loss to understand. As my client is entitled toten thousand pounds under either will it might be thought that thechange would make little difference to him; but unhappily thecircumstances have entirely changed by the fact that the General'sgrandson was lost or stolen on the day before his death, and in spite ofthe most active efforts of the police, and the offer of largerewards--my client, who was deeply affected by the loss of the child,himself offering a thousand pounds for news of his whereabouts--nothingwas heard of him until two months after his disappearance, when his bodywas found in the canal at Paddington, and after hearing evidence ofidentification, and examining the clothes, which all parties agreed tobe those of the missing child, the jury returned a verdict that the bodywas that of Walter Rivington, and that there was no proof of how he cameby his end.

  "As the residence of General Mathieson was in Hyde Park Gardens, nodoubt 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 althoughit practically put him into possession of a large property, he would, Iam sure, gladly forfeit a large portion of it rather than come intopossession of it in so melancholy a manner. I have not heard of theslightest reason why the last will of General Mathieson should be putaside. I believe that no question could arise as to his state of mind atthe time that it was made. It may be that a plea of undue influence maybe 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. Herewas no case of a man living in the house and influencing an oldgentleman 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 thissecond will, and issue an order to the trustees to carry out itsprovisions forthwith."

  "But upon the face of your appeal to the court, Sir Henry, there is noquestion as to the validity of the will you propound set up by thetrustees?"

  "None, my lord. In fact, at the time the case was put down we wereignorant that there would be any attempt on the part of the trustees todispute the second will, and that they should do so came upon us as asurprise. However, at a consultation between my learned friend andmyself just before we came into court, it was agreed that, if yourlordship would permit it, we would take the two matters at once. One ofthe trustees is a member of the firm who are and have been the familylawyers of General Mathieson, and of his father before him, for a longperiod of years. They are gentlemen of well-known honor, who are, I amsure, as anxious as we are to obtain from your lordship a judicialdecision on which they can act."

  "It is irregular," the judge said, "but as both parties seemed agreedupon it, it will doubtless save much expense to the estate if the wholematter can be settled at once. I will permit the whole matter to betaken. 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 toimitate 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 avery complicated nature. We own that we have no explanation to offerwith regard to the second will. It was strange, very strange, thatGeneral Mathieson, a man of methodical habits, having just drawn up hiswill, 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 thetwo wills is certainly a very strong proof, as also is the fact that theinstructions for drafting the will were written by the General himself,or, at any rate, by someone intimately acquainted with the contents ofthat will, which we admit was difficult to believe could be the case, asthe will, from the time it was signed by the General, has not been outof Messrs. Farmer & Pettigrew's hands until it was taken for probate theother day.

  "Now, my lord, I trust that you will allow me a certain amount oflicense while I go into this somewhat singular story. Twenty-three yearsago, General Mathieson's life was saved in India by Mr. John Simcoe. Mr.Simcoe himself was seriously wounded, and when he recovered somewhat hewas recommended by the surgeon who attended him to go down to Calcuttaat 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 fewdays later, with, as was supposed, all hands. Twenty years passed, andthen to the surprise, and I may say to the delight of the General, whohad much grieved over the loss of his preserver, Mr. Simcoe presentedhimself. For a moment the General did not recognize him; but it was notlong before he became convinced of his identity, for he knew theofficers who had been at the station at the time, and was well up in thegossip of the place, and the General at once hailed him as the man whohad saved his life, introduced him to many friends, got him put up at agood club, and became, I may say, very fond of him. Mr. Simcoe broughtup a friend or two who had known him at Stowmarket, where he had an auntstill living, and the result of all this was that the General requestedMessrs. Farmer & Pettigrew to draw up a new will bequeathing to JohnSimcoe 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 kindof fit, from which he recovered, but only lived for a few months, ahalf-paralyzed invalid. He was attended during that time by Dr. Leeds--agentleman with a very high reputation, and now practicing in HarleyStreet 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 daybefore his death his grandson, Walter Rivington, was missing. Theefforts of the police, aided by a number of private detectives, failedto obtain any clew to the child until a body was found in the canal atPaddington. That the body was dressed in some of the clothes worn by thechild when carried off was unquestionable; but the three persons whoknew Walter Rivington best, namely, Miss Covington, a friend of hersnamed Miss Purcell, who had been all the summer assisting her to nurseGeneral Mathieson, and the child's own nurse, all declared that the bodywas not that of the General's grandson. They were unable to adduceanything in support of this belief beyond the fact that the hair of thechild found was short and to some extent bristly, whereas that of WalterRivington was long and silky. The jury, however, adopted the view of thecoroner that hair, however soft, when cut close to the skull will appearmore or less bristly, and gave a verdict to the effect that the body wasthat of Walter Rivington. Miss Covington and her friends refused toaccept the verdict, and continued their search for the child.

  "Without occupying your attention by going into details, my lord, I maybriefly say that a close watch was set on Mr. Simcoe, and it was foundthat he was exceedingly intimate with a man of whom no one seemed toknow anything; and before I go further I will ask, my lord, that youwill give orders that Mr. Simcoe shall not leave the court until I havefinished."

  "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, butotherwise maintained an air of stolid indifference.

  "I will now go back for a moment, my lord. General Mathieson wasattended by three of the leading physicians in London at the time of hisseizure. The symptoms were so peculiar that in all their experience theyhad not met a similar case. Dr. Leeds, however, differed from them, butbeing their junior could not press his opinion; but he told them thathis opinion was that the fit was due to the administration of some drugunknown to the British Pharmacopoeia, as the effects were preciselysimilar to those in cases that he had read of in Africa and among othersavage people, where a poison of this kind wa
s used by the native fetichmen or wizards. That opinion was confirmed rather than diminished by thesubsequent 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 tohim at dinner at the time of his seizure, and that man, according tohis own statement, had been for many years knocking about among thesavages of the South Sea Islands and the islands of the MalayArchipelago.

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

  "But, my lord, I have not finished my story. Under neither of the willsdoes that man take a farthing. The money was left to John Simcoe; andJohn Simcoe was drowned over twenty years ago. The man standing overthere is one William Sanderson, a sergeant on the paymaster's staff atBenares when the real John Simcoe was there. There happened to be aresemblance between this man and him, so strong that it was generallyremarked upon by his comrades. This man Sanderson deserted soon afterSimcoe was drowned, taking with him three hundred pounds of thepaymaster's money. There was a sharp hue and cry after him, but hemanaged to make his escape. All this is a certainty, but we may assumewithout much difficulty that the man changed his name as soon as he gotto Calcutta, and nothing was more likely than that he should take thename of John Simcoe, whom he had been told that he so stronglyresembled.

  "For twenty years we hear nothing further of William Sanderson, nor dowe hear when he returned to London. Probably he, in some way or other,came across the name of General Mathieson, and remembering what JohnSimcoe had done for the General, he, on the strength of his personallikeness, 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 wasclever enough to know that he must answer questions as to his historybefore he left England, and it was desirable to obtain witnesses whowould, if necessary, certify to him. But he knew nothing of Simcoe'sbirthplace or history; so he inserted advertisements in a great numberof London and provincial newspapers, saying that the relations of theJohn Simcoe who was supposed to have been drowned in the Bay of Bengalin the year 1832 would hear of something to their advantage at theaddress given. A maiden aunt, living at Stowmarket, did reply. He wentdown there at once, rushed into her arms and called her aunt, and toldher that it was his intention to make her comfortable for life byallowing her fifty pounds per annum. He stayed with her for three days,and during that time obtained from her gossip full details of hisboyhood and youth, his friends and their occupation, and he then wentout and called upon John Simcoe's old companions, all of whom took himon his own word and his knowledge of the past and his recognition by hisaunt.

  "So things might have remained. This man, after undergoing whatpunishment might be awarded to him for his abduction of WalterRivington, could have claimed the ten thousand pounds left him byGeneral Mathieson, had it not been that, by what I cannot but consider adispensation of Providence, an old comrade of his, Staff-SergeantNichol, was attracted to the hall this morning by seeing the name ofSimcoe and that of General Mathieson coupled in the cause list. Thisman 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 hadlast seen carried wounded into Benares, at once recognized in thesupposed John Simcoe the deserter and thief, Sergeant Sanderson. Hepassed him two or three times, to assure himself that he was notmistaken. Happily the deserter had a mark that was ineffaceable; he had,as a recruit, let off his rifle, and the ball had passed through thefleshy part of the forearm, leaving there, as Sergeant Nichol hasinformed me, an ineffaceable scar, blackened by powder. If this man isnot Sergeant Sanderson, and is the long-lost John Simcoe, he has but topull 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 terribleexposure 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 ofconspiring, with others, the abduction of Walter Rivington."

  "Certainly, brother Herbert," the judge said, as he saw that the accusedmade no motion to answer the challenge of the counsel. "Tipstaff, takethat man into custody on the charge of aiding in the abduction of WalterRivington. As to the other charge, I shall communicate with theauthorities of the India Office, and leave it to them to prosecute ifthey choose to do so. After this lapse of years they may not think itworth while to do so, especially as the man is in custody on a stillgraver charge."

  The tipstaff moved toward the man, who roused himself with a greateffort, snatched a small glass ball from a pocket inside his waistcoat,thrust it between his teeth, and bit it into fragments, and, as theofficer laid his hand upon him, fell down in a fit. Dr. Leeds, who hadcome 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 ofthe cause of General Mathieson's death is now proved to be correct. Thesymptoms of this fit are precisely similar to those of GeneralMathieson's seizure, and this man has taken some of the very poison withwhich 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 hispulse and then rose to his feet.

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