Part 5
‘That’s done with,’ said Mr Franklin. ‘The next thing is to put this one away where no one but you and I will know where to find it. I prefer to keep it here, because then I shall know it’s all safe. As to the last, it didn’t so much matter; you were the person most interested in its safety, so it was very well that you should have the custody of it. It’s different now.—D’ye see that half-dozen of books on the shelf in the recess? At this end, you’ll find a big old illustrated Prayer-book. Put the will in there, and remember the page.’
Mr Blackford took down the book, which opened of itself—ominously enough—at the service for the Burial of the Dead. He did not mention this circumstance, but put the folded paper in its place and closed and replaced the volume.
‘That’s well,’ said Mr Franklin in a weary voice. ‘I’m weaker than I thought; all this has tired me out.—Good-bye, Blackford; shake hands. You’ll do your part at the proper time; I shall tell ’em to send for you. Don’t forget—the old Prayer-book at this end of the shelf.’
‘I won’t forget,’ replied the lawyer; ‘but I hope it may be many a long day yet before I am called on to remember.—Good-bye, sir.’
Uncle Franklin did not reply; he was lying back on his pillows with closed eyes; and so Mr Blackford left him.
The first steps of his scheme had been well planned, well carried out, and had met with entire success. He had been obliged, it is true, to forge a duplicate of the former will; but the forgery had just been put out of evidence by the testator himself. There was nothing to bear witness against him on that score. There were now two wills in existence, both bearing the testator’s genuine signature, both attested by the same witnesses, and both dated—or shortly to be dated—on the same day; the only difference between them being the trifling one, that the will which was between the leaves of the old Prayer-book was in favour of Lucy Wedlake, while that which remained in Mr Blackford’s possession constituted him the sole legatee. The witnesses, having merely signed their names to two documents of very similar appearance on two different occasions, would be quite unable to say which they had last attested, for they knew nothing of the contents of either.
So far, so good. What was to be the next step? That, as Mr Blackford perceived, was a matter requiring very careful consideration.
BIG UNDERTAKINGS.
Nothing seems too big for the present age, for we are continually being startled with something new and something immense, which has either been just completed, or is about to be carried out, or, at anyrate, is projected or proposed. Within the last few weeks three new schemes have been either commenced or suggested in Switzerland, Greece, and Canada. The first-named scheme in Switzerland is proposed by an Italian engineer named Agudio, of Milan, for making a way through the Simplon, which he declares he can do by a tunnel of only six thousand and fifty metres, the traction and haulage being done by hydraulic power. He says that by this means from three to four thousand tons of goods could be safely transported without any breaking-up or trans-shipment of trains; while the cost of the whole proceeding would be only twenty-eight millions of francs.
Number Two project consists of the bold but practical scheme of draining the Lake of Copaïs, near Thebes, in Bœotia, by which an area of a hundred square miles will be added to the territory of Greece. The acquiring of so very large a piece of land, which may be put to useful purposes, though undoubtedly one of vast importance, is not the only object intended to be effected by the proposal—the other being the destruction of one of the greatest fever-producing places in the country by reason of the pestilential malaria always arising from the waters of this lake. This alone would be an unspeakable blessing to the country round, and money should be readily forthcoming for the carrying out of so beneficial an undertaking. The rivers now flowing into the lake would be employed for irrigation and other purposes of practical utility.
Number Three project proposes to connect Prince Edward Island with the Canadian mainland by means of a submarine railway tunnel, by which all communication can be kept open with the inhabitants of the island during the winter, a circumstance at present almost impossible, from the terribly rigorous nature of the winter climate of Canada; but Canada is bound legally to do everything that is possible to keep open a communication with this island at all times and by all means, for the accommodation and assistance of the hundred and twenty-five thousand persons who constitute the present population. The distance of the island is only six miles and a half, and the bed of the Northumberland Straits, under which the railway will be carried, presents no very apparent difficulties. The depth of water is on the island side thirty-six feet; and ten feet six inches on the New Brunswick side; and about eighty feet in the middle. The tunnel will be eighteen feet in diameter, and will be made of ‘chilled white cast-iron,’ in sections, these latter being bolted together with inside flanges, exactly in the same way in which the little tunnel for foot-passengers under the Thames, and known as the ‘Tower Subway,’ was constructed some years ago. The cost of this undertaking is estimated at about one million sterling. It has been well considered and highly commended, and will be brought before the Canadian parliament very speedily, when the scheme will no doubt be fully sanctioned, as it has many warm supporters in the Legislative Assembly. Canada will therefore have her ‘submarine railway’ long before her illustrious ‘mother’ on this side the Atlantic.
AUTUMN DAYS.
A wealth of beauty meets my eye— Yellow and green, and brown and white, In one vast blaze of glory fill My happy sight.
The rich-robed trees, the ripening corn, Bright coloured with September fire— Fulfilment of the farmer’s hope, And year’s desire.
Sweet in the air are joyous sounds Of bird and bee and running brook; And plenteous fruits hang ripening round, Where’er I look.
The mellow splendour softly falls On morning mists and evening dews, And colours trees and flowers and clouds With thousand hues.
O dreaming clouds, with silver fringed! I watch ye gathering side by side, Like armies, in the solemn skies, In stately pride.
I love the woods, the changing woods, Fast deepening down to russet glow, When Autumn, like a brunette Queen, Rules all below.
The soul of Beauty haunts the heavens, Nor leaves for long the warm-faced Earth, And like a mother, the kind air To life gives birth.
But Death rides past upon the gale, And blows the rustling golden leaves; They whirl and fall, and rot and die, And my heart grieves.
Farewell! O Autumn days—farewell! Ye go; but we shall meet again, As old friends, who are parted long By the wild main.
WILLIAM COWAN.
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