Brandon Chapel on Sunday.

For a month and three days Mr. Jos. Larkin was left to ruminate without any new light upon the dusky landscape now constantly before his eyes. At the end of that time a foreign letter came for him to the Lodge. It was not addressed in Mark Wylder’s hand — not the least like it. Mark’s was a bold, free hand, and if there was nothing particularly elegant, neither was there anything that could be called vulgar in it. But this was a decidedly villainous scrawl — in fact it was written as a self-educated butcher might pen a bill. There was nothing impressed on the wafer, but a poke of something like the ferrule of a stick.

The interior corresponded with the address, and the lines slanted confoundedly. It was, however, on the whole, better spelled and expressed than the penmanship would have led one to expect. It said —

‘MISTER LARKINS — Respeckted Sir, I write you, Sir, to let you know has how there is no more Chance you shud ear of poor Mr. Mark Wylder — of hose orrible Death I make bold to acquainte you by this writing — which is Secret has yet from all — he bing Hid, and made away with in the dark. It is only Right is family shud know all, and his sad ending — wich I will tell before you, Sir, in full, accorden to my Best guess, as bin the family Lawyer (and, Sir, you will find it usful to Tell this in secret to Capten Lake, of Brandon Hall — But not on No account to any other). It is orrible, Sir, to think a young gentleman, with everything the world can give, shud be made away with so crewel in the dark. Though you do not rekelect me, Sir, I know you well, Mr. Larkins, haven seen you hoffen when a boy. I wud not wish, Sir, no noise made till I cum — which I am returning hoame, and will then travel to Gylingden strateways to see you.

Sir, your obedient servant,

‘JAMES DUTTON.’

This epistle disturbed Mr. Jos. Larkin profoundly. He could recollect no such name as James Dutton. He did not know whether to believe this letter or not. He could not decide what present use to make of it, nor whether to mention it to Captain Lake, nor, if he did so, how it was best to open the matter.

Captain Lake, he was confident, knew James Dutton — why, otherwise, should that person have desired his intelligence communicated to him. At least it proved that Dutton assumed the captain to be specially interested in what concerned Mark Wylder’s fate; and in so far it confirmed his suspicions of Lake. Was it better to wait until he had seen Dutton, and heard his story, before hinting at his intelligence and his name — or was it wiser to do that at once, and watch its effect upon the gallant captain narrowly, and trust to inspiration and the moment for striking out the right course.

If this letter was true there was not a moment to be lost in bringing the purchase of the vicar’s reversion to a point. The possibilities were positively dazzling. They were worth risking something. I am not sure that Mr. Larkin’s hand did not shake a little as he took the statement of title again out of the Wylder tin box No. 2.

Now, under the pressure of this enquiry, a thing struck Mr. Larkin, strangely enough, which he had quite overlooked before. There were certain phrases in the will of the late Mr. Wylder, which limited a large portion of the great estate in strict settlement. Of course an attorney’s opinion upon a question of real property is not conclusive. Still they can’t help knowing something of the barrister’s special province; and these words were very distinct — in fact, they stunted down the vicar’s reversion in the greater part of the property to a strict life estate.

Long did the attorney pore over his copy of the will, with his finger and thumb closed on his under lip. The language was quite explicit — there was no way out of it. It was strictly a life estate. How could he have overlooked that? His boy, indeed, would take an estate tail — and could disentail whenever — if ever — he came of age. But that was in the clouds. Mackleston-on-the-Moor, however, and the Great Barnford estate, were unaffected by these limitations; and the rental which he now carefully consulted, told him these jointly were in round numbers worth 2,300_l. a year, and improvable.

This letter of Dutton’s, to be sure, may turn out to be all a lie or a blunder. But it may prove to be strictly true; and in that case it will be every thing that the deeds should be executed and the purchase completed before the arrival of this person, and the public notification of Mark Wylder’s death.

‘What a world it is, to be sure!’ thought Mr. Larkin, as he shook his long head over Dutton’s letter. ‘How smoothly and simply everything would go, if only men would stick to truth! Here’s this letter — how much time and trouble it costs me — how much opportunity possibly sacrificed, simply by reason of the incurable mendacity of men.’ And he knocked the back of his finger bitterly on the open page.

Another thought now struck him for the first time. Was there no mode of ‘hedging,’ so that whether Mark Wylder were living or dead the attorney should stand to win?

Down came the Brandon boxes. The prudent attorney turned the key in the door, and forth came the voluminous marriage settlement of Stanley Williams Lake, of Slobberligh, in the county of Devon, late captain, &c., &c. of the second part, and Dorcas Adderley Brandon, of Brandon Hall, in the county of &c., &c. of the second part, and so forth. And as he read this pleasant composition through, he two or three times murmured approvingly, ‘Yes — yes — yes.’ His recollection had served him quite rightly. There was the Five Oaks estate, specially excluded from settlement, worth 1,400_l. a year; but it was conditioned that the said Stanley Williams Lake was not to deal with the said lands, except with the consent in writing of the said Dorcas, &c., who was to be a consenting party to the deed.

If there was really something ‘unsound in the state of Lake’s relations,’ and that he could be got to consider Lawyer Larkin as a friend worth keeping, that estate might be had a bargain — yes, a great bargain.

Larkin walked off to Brandon, but there he learned that Captain Brandon Lake as he now chose to call himself, had gone that morning to London.

‘Business, I venture to say, and he went into that electioneering without ever mentioning it either.’

So thought Larkin, and he did not like this. It looked ominous, and like an incipient sliding away of the Brandon business, Well, no matter, all things worked together for good. It was probably well that he should not be too much shackled with considerations of that particular kind in the important negotiation about Five Oaks.

That night he posted a note to Burlington, Smith, and Co., and by Saturday night’s post there came down to the sheriff an execution for 123_l. and some odd shillings, upon a judgment on a warrant to confess, at the suit of that firm, for costs and money advanced, against the poor vicar, who never dreamed, as he conned over his next day’s sermon with his solitary candle, that the blow had virtually descended, and that his homely furniture, the silver spoons his wife had brought him, and the two shelves half full of old books which he had brought her, and all the rest of their little frugal trumpery, together with his own thin person, had passed into the hands of Messrs. Burlington, Smith, and Co.

The vicar on his way to the chapel passed Mr. Jos. Larkin on the green — not near enough to speak — only to smile and wave his hand kindly, and look after the good attorney with one of those............