Kate had only her husband and Willie to share her excellent ice-cream and beautiful raspberries, on that warm evening; the trio did justice, however, to these nice refreshments; and little Willie only wished he could sign a temperance pledge every evening, if he could sit up later than usual, and eat an excellent supper after it.
After the little fellow had been sent to bed, and his mother had taken a look at her younger children, who were sleeping sweetly in their usual places, the lawyer and his wife were left alone in the parlour. It was a charming moon-light evening, though very warm; and Kate having lowered the lamp, threw herself into a rocking-chair near the window; while Mr. Clapp, who had had rather a fatiguing day, was stretched out on the sofa.
"It is early yet, William; suppose you tell the story you promised me, about your client, the sailor."
"I don't much like to tell it, Catherine; and yet it is time you knew something about it, for we must proceed to action immediately."
"Oh, tell me, by all means; you have really made me quite curious. You know very well that I can keep a secret."
"Certainly; and I request you will not mention the facts I shall relate, to any one, for some time; not until we have taken the necessary legal steps."
"Of course not, if you wish it; and now for the story. You said this poor man had been injured."
"Grossly injured."
"In what manner?"
"He has been treated in the most unjustifiable manner by his nearest relatives. His reputation has been injured, and he has been tyrannically deprived of a very large property."
"Is it possible!--poor fellow! Can nothing be done for him?"
"That is what we shall see. Yes, I flatter myself if there is law in the land, we shall yet be able to restore him to his rights!"
"Does he belong to this part of the country?"
"He does not himself; but those who are revelling in his wealth do."
"What is his name?--Do I know his family?"
"You will be distressed, Catherine, when you hear the name; you will be astonished when you learn the whole story; but the time for concealment has gone by now. Several years ago that poor sailor came to me, in ragged clothing, in poverty and distress, and first laid his complaint before me. I did not believe a word of what he told me; I thought the man mad, and refused to have anything to do with the cause. He became disgusted, and went to sea again, and for some time gave up all hope of being reinstated in his rights; the obstacles seemed too great. But at length a very important witness in his favour was accidentally thrown in his way: at the end of his cruise he came to me again, and I confess I was astounded at the evidence he then laid before me.
It is conclusive, beyond a doubt, to any unprejudiced mind," said Mr. Clapp, rousing himself from his recumbent position.
"But you have not told me the man's name."
"His name is Stanley--William Stanley."
"You said I knew him; but I never heard of him; I don't know the family at all."
"Yes, you do; you know them only too well; you will be as much surprised as I was myself--as I am still, whenever I allow myself to dwell on the subject. Mr. Stanley is the cousin-german of your friend, Miss Elinor Wyllys. Mr. Wyllys himself, Mrs. Stanley, the step-mother, and young Hazlehurst, are the individuals who stand between him and his rights," continued Mr. Clapp, rising, and walking across the room, as he ran his fingers through his brown curls.
"Impossible!" exclaimed Kate, as the fan she held dropped from her hand.
"Just what I said myself, at first," replied Mr. Clapp.
"But surely you are deceived, William--how can it be?" continued the wife, in amazement. "We always thought that Mr. Stanley was lost at sea, years ago!"
"Exactly--it was thought so; but it was not true."
"But where has he been in the mean time?--Why did he wait so long before he came to claim his inheritance?"
"The same unhappy, reckless disposition that first sent him to sea, kept him roving about. He did not know of his father's death, until four years after it had taken place, and he heard at the same time that he had been disinherited. When he came home, after that event, he found that he was generally believed to have been lost in the Jefferson, wrecked in the year 18--. He was, in fact, the only man saved."
"How very extraordinary! But why has he never even shown himself among his friends and connexions until now?"