CHAPTER XXXIV.

THIRTY YEARS OLD.

Four years have passed away. Pine Hill is still glorious in its beauty; more glorious in its men and women, for the true life has been rich in true progress. The twin mansions are full of joys. Life has blossomed and borne fruit.

Eugene Hungerford’s birthday is at hand, when he will be thirty years old. The time for the disposal of John Hungerford’s three millions has been nearly reached. Dick Birch, and Julia, and Mary have insisted that the occasion shall be celebrated. The lord of the manor is not partial to celebrations, but he has consented to a gathering of his most intimate friends on the occasion, and a letter from the three eminent trustees in Baltimore has just been received, announcing that they will be present in a body, attended and supported by the distinguished lawyer who invented all the repetitions in John Hungerford’s will.

Eugene does not look so old as he did when he returned from Europe, though five years have been added to the calendar. He has been happy since that time; he has had enough to occupy his mind. Manly exercise and abundant fresh air have kept him healthy, and he certainly looks better than ever before. Mary has hardly grown older, though there is a certain maturity in her looks which does not lessen her beauty, or render her less interesting than before. She is a shade stouter, but she is as elegant in form, and as graceful in movement, as before. She is the mother of two children.

Mrs. Hungerford senior is still a hale, healthy old lady, happy in seeing her children and grandchildren happy. She walks over to the “other house,” as she terms it, every day, unless the weather is very unfavorable, and even oftener if Master Eugene Hungerford Birch, now happily just entering his third year, has the “snuffles,” or any indications of croup, measles, whooping cough, scarlatina, or chicken pox.

Dick Birch, perhaps somewhat modified by matrimony, is a happy man. He is hardly appreciated by the people; if he had been, he would have gone to Congress before this time; but Mrs. Birch declares that he is the best man in the world, though he is just a little too fond of having his own way--a grievous fault, said to be almost universal among husbands. By no means let it be supposed that Mr. and Mrs. Birch quarrelled, though without any positive information on the subject, we will venture to say that Julia occasionally went into a huff, and that Dick had to pacify her. As each had a will and a way, it is more than possible that concessions were necessary on both sides; but as both were reasonable, and there was true love, concession was easy, and even pleasant. There was only a little spice to give variety to life, and no happier couple lived in the whole world. They still continued to be on the same side of the bridge.

Master Eugene Hungerford Birch is a remarkable child; it is absolutely necessary that this fact should be stated, otherwise it would not be known. Besides being able to sleep and to eat bread and milk, which he did very naturally, if not gracefully, he could perform as many tricks as the clown in a circus, and he was duly exhibited to the crowds of admiring guests who came to Pine Hill. He could fall off the sofa, tumble down stairs, and roll out of bed with remarkable facility; and these feats were usually succeeded by healthy exercise of the lungs, causing them to grow strong and vigorous.

Master Johnnie Hungerford was even a more remarkable young gentleman than his cousin. He was four years old; and though he had, as yet, made no speeches in town meeting, or in the hall of the Poppleton Library, he could talk faster, and say more in a given time, than any other child of his age in the county. His extraordinary talent in this direction already pointed him out as a future member of Congress, to which honorable position no one doubted that he would ultimately arrive.

Johnnie was not surpassed in anything by his remarkable cousin. He could fall off the sofa, tumble down stairs, and roll out of bed with no less facility than Master Eugene H. Birch; and, in the preceding summer, he had contrived to outdo him by tumbling into the duck pond, to the great astonishment of the ducks, and the mortal terror of his mother. This was certainly a very enterprising feat, and Johnnie was a hero for seven days afterwards. Besides his strictly gymnastic ability, John had other talents and accomplishments of the highest order. He could break crockery and glass ware beautifully; he could purloin his mother’s scissors and hack a cambric handkerchief to pieces in the most artistic manner; he could root out a rare geranium in the conservatory in the twinkling of the eye.

Parkinson was quite sure that Johnnie would become an author, he was so fond of books and of writing. He could use up a twenty-dollar copy of Spenser in four minutes by the watch, accomplishing this remarkable feat by climbing up to the desk, and with pen and ink scratching and scrawling strange diagrams on the dainty pages. Johnnie was quite enterprising, too, in the department of mechanics. The barometer, which hung in the hall, was a great mystery to him; and one day he climbed up to it on a chair, to make an examination. In the course of his investigations, he managed, by the exercise of great skill, to destroy the instrument in a very brief space of time. But Johnnie’s greatest achievement in this line was picking his father’s gold watch to pieces, in order to find the “tick” in it, thus exhibiting a thirst for hidden knowledge worthy of encouragement.

Dick Birch and lady once called Johnnie the “three million boy,” because this sum depended upon him; but neither Eugene nor Mary liked the idea. The “little darling,” with all his rare accomplishments, was the choicest gift of God to them, worth more than three millions, and was loved and prized for his own sake alone. Though his “nose was out of joint” now, and had been for a year, by the appearance of Miss Mary Hungerford, the young gentleman hardly suffered by the addition of a sister to share his caresses. Miss Hungerford, being but a year old, made no long speeches, though wonderful things were expected of her. She was, however, a remarkably forward child, and could tumble out of a chair, if they would only let her, almost as well as Johnnie himself. She had an astonishing talent for eating and sleeping, though, not being an epicure, she did not insist upon variety in her diet.

If Johnnie sneezed, all Pine Hill was thrown into commotion, and his father had seriously entertained the idea of having a physician resident at the mansion, that no delay might be experienced when the little fellow barked hoarsely, or exhibited any symptom of a dangerous disease. But, though the parents were inclined to be perniciously indulgent, they were sensible people in the main. Pastry, cakes, and confects were wholly banished from the tables, except on extraordinary occasions; beef and mutton, bread and milk, were the staple articles of diet, for parents as well as children, for the latter would not cry for what they did not see. Johnnie lived mainly on fresh air, and on the approach of his father’s thirtieth birthday, he was perfectly healthy, and as fat and rosy as the child of a poor laborer.

Poppleton had been progressing during these four years. Eugene had been busy all the time. The library was in excellent working condition; the lyceum and the recreations were successful. The chapel had been diffusing the light of the gospel; Miss Thompson still labored as a missionary among the poor, and John Porter preached practical Christianity.

Dr. Thomas Lynch still drove a fast horse through the streets, and was hardly less popular than when he first came into the town; hardly less, for he had actually begun to lose ground. He had purchased popularity, and he was not always willing to pay the price. It cost too much to keep up the farce of pandering to old women’s whims. As he became more successful, he bowed less low to the magnates of Poppleton, took less pains to conciliate men and women who could do nothing but sound his praise. But the doctor was still great, though it was a fact that he had begun to decline.

Eugene Hungerford’s birthday came. A gentleman arrived at Poppleton by the afternoon train. He went directly to the office of Dr. Lynch, who received him with a patronizing smile, and conducted him to the room in the rear.

“You have come at exactly the right time,” said the doctor, rubbing his hands, as if in anticipation of some delightful event.

“I came when you told me,” replied the stranger, somewhat roughly, for the doctor’s greeting was rather too patronizing to be entirely satisfactory.

“I have been afraid, twenty times to-day, that I should not see you.”

“But you knew I arrived from Italy a month ago.”

“I did; but I feared you might take a drop too much, or that some accident might prevent you.”

“You need not insult me.”

“I had no intention of insulting you.”

“What do you mean by a drop too much, then?”

“Nothing, nothing! You know you used to imbibe a little too freely.”

“But I told you in one of my letters that I had drank nothing stronger than red wine for five years.”

“So much the better.”

“When will this business be finished?” demanded the stranger, with no little impatience.

“This evening.”

“I am disgusted with it.”

“You have no right to be disgusted with it. I have paid you three thousand dollars a year for your services, which has supported you like a prince in Italy.”

“I have no fault to find with the pay; that is liberal, but it would not buy me into such a mean transaction a second time.”

“You must not flinch now, at the last moment.”

“I shall not flinch; I have sold myself to the devil, and I am willing to pay the price.”

“But you must do your part handsomely. You must ride the high horse. You must refuse all compromise. You must claim your own without the shadow of relenting.”

“This was not nominated in the bond. I will do my part with as little offence as possible.”

“You must be firm and resolute,” persisted the doctor.

“I will be firm and resolute enough to accomplish the purpose--no more.”

“I have been waiting five years for this night. I have longed for this hour as they that suffer wait for the morning. My time has come. I have been insulted, outraged in my feelings, cast out like an unclean beast----”

“As you are!” interposed the stranger.

“What!”

“I know you, if they don’t.”

“This is hardly proper in you.”

“I will pay the bond, but I have the privilege of despising you.”

“Come, come; you are riding the high horse with me instead of my enemies.”

“They are your enemies, not mine.”

“I have paid you to help me crush them,” said the doctor, bitterly.

“And I will help you crush them, because I have been paid for doing so; but I am none the less a villain, though I am a respectable man compared with you.”

“Have a care, sir.”

“You need not threaten me. I doubt if I can help kicking you after I have done what you require of me.”

“Be reasonable, my dear fellow. We cannot afford to quarrel.”

“I can; you cannot.”

“Neither of us can.”

“I have had all the money you were to pay me.”

“I will give you a thousand dollars more if you follow my directions implicitly.”

“What are they?” asked the stranger, apparently tempted by the offer.

“You must be firm and resolute, and insist upon bearing your own away with you. My revenge would not be complete without that.”

“I spurn the offer!” replied the stranger, proudly. “After I have inflicted the wound, I shall do the best I can to heal it. I shall be seen no more in this part of the country.”

“Your sensibilities are very delicate,” sneered the doctor.

“You will win your fortune: be satisfied with that. I am not so vile as you are.”

The doctor handed the stranger a cigar, and then tried to persuade him to do his work after the heroic style; and while he is thus engaged, we will leave him, and return to Pine Hill.

The eminent trustees and the distinguished lawyer from Baltimore have arrived. Mr. John Lester has John Hungerford on his knee. He has no doubt that the little gentleman is “the legal son of the said legal father;” and being a man of ample fortune himself, he is rather glad to get rid of the labor and trouble of managing the three millions any longer. The distinguished lawyer, who has already examined the records, is satisfied that Eugene Hungerford was duly and legally married to Mary K. Buckstone, widow of Eliot Buckstone--deceased beyond the possibility of a doubt, for his body was found at the bottom of the channel, fully identified, and buried in the town. The Rev. John Porter is present, and ready to swear, if need be, that he united the parties. Dr. Gardner, from the Mills, is ready to satisfy him that Master Johnnie is the child of his parents. There is no room even for a cavil, and no one proposes to raise the slightest objection.

In the evening the three dozen or so of intimate friends arrive. Ross Kingman and lady are there, among the first to come. When Dick went to Europe, Ross was installed into the office of agent, and since that time has acted in that capacity. Hubbard became skipper of the yacht, at Dick’s suggestion, though the old fisherman wanted to know what he should do with a thousand dollars a year, which was more than he had been in the habit of earning in five years. Ross receives the same salary that Dick had, and is regarded as a person of considerable consequence in Poppleton.

He is what is called a smart business man, and his employer has entire confidence in his fidelity and his good judgment. He is honored and respected, though certain people are impressed by the fact that he has killed a man, in avenging his sister’s honor; to such he is terrible.

On this occasion the library had been prepared as a banquet hall, for the dining-room is not large enough to accommodate the company. Eugene is at the head of the table, with Mr. John Lester on his right. Dick Birch sits at the other end of the board.

“What do you think of my brother-in-law now, Mr. Lester?” asked Hungerford, as the soup plates were removed. “You were not prejudiced in his favor the first time you came to Pine Hill, you remember.”

“But, Mr. Hungerford, you placed him in a false position before me,” protested the eminent trustee.

“And Dr. Bilks?”

“Had you told me that Dr. Bilks was that scapegrace of a Tom Lynch, I should not have erred in judgment. Without correct premises, Mr. Hungerford, of course it is impossible to arrive at a correct conclusion.”

Of course Mr. Lester could have made no mistake; it was not possible for an eminent merchant like himself to blunder on a question of human nature.

“I did not know myself that Tom Lynch was amongst us.”

“You were deceived, and unwittingly deceived me. I have the highest regard for your friend Mr. Birch.”

The supper was finished, and Mr. Lester intimated that he should be happy to place Eugene Hungerford in possession of the deeds, bonds, notes, and other securities, which constituted the three millions. The party adjourned to the drawing-room.

“I believe there is only one person not present who has had any contingent interest in the property,” said Mr. Lester, who, being an eminent man, was of course disposed to be formal and precise in the discharge of a duty so important as that which now devolved upon him.

“Dr. Lynch,” added the lawyer. “His contingent interest ceases to-day.”

“It is quite proper that he should be present, being an interested party, and I have taken the liberty to invite him to come here at nine o’clock,” continued Mr. Lester. “You will pardon me for inviting this unwelcome guest, Mr. Hungerford, but I deemed it best that he should be here,” he added, in a low tone, to Eugene, who stood by his side.

“I am entirely satisfied.”

“I do not think he will come,” said Mr. Lester. “His contingent interest no longer exists, and I doubt if he will care to see all the property slip into your hands.”

The eminent trustee chuckled a little. He was so well satisfied that the doctor would not come, that he had not even deemed it worth his while to say before that he had invited him.

“Dr. Lynch is not present,” continued the eminent trustee, “and we will proceed without him.”

“Dr. Lynch,” said Parkinson, throwing open the door at this moment.

“Ah!” ejaculated Mr. Lester, faintly.

“I am here at the request of Mr. Lester,” said Dr. Lynch, as Eugene stepped forward to receive the guest.

Eugene made no reply; he was courteous, but he said no more than was necessary to greet the guest. He gave him a seat.

“By the terms of John Hungerford’s will,” Mr. Lester began again, “a document drawn up with great care by my learned legal friend, whom you all have the pleasure of meeting on this interesting occasion, it was provided that the income of the three millions of dollars, the entire estate of the testator, should be paid over to Eugene Hungerford, his nephew, as fast as it accrued. This clause, I believe, has been faithfully and legally carried out, and the trustees have the receipts for all moneys paid over to Mr. Hungerford.”

Mr. Lester paused and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. It was important business, and it must look important.

“By the terms of John Hungerford’s will, it further appears,” he continued, “that if, when testator’s nephew, Eugene, had attained the age of thirty years, he was the father of a son, who had been duly named for his father’s uncle, the whole three millions should be paid over to the nephew. In order to comply with the terms of the will, and entitle Mr. Hungerford to the absolute possession of the property, these questions must be answered. First: Is Eugene Hungerford legally married? Second: Has he a son? Third: Is this son named John Hungerford?

“During the day, the trustees, with the valuable assistance of the distinguished legal gentleman, who drew up the original will, have considered these three questions, embodying the conditions on which they were to constitute Mr. Hungerford the sole owner of the property, and they are happy to say that they find full, complete, legal evidence which satisfies them that the three conditions have been duly and properly met.

“The trustees find that Mr. Hungerford was duly married to the estimable lady known as his wife.” Mr. Lester was so intent upon being verbose that he quite forgot his early view of the marriage. “They were united by Rev. John Porter. There is no room to doubt the legality of the marriage; but unpleasant as it is, this matter must be mentioned.”

Mr. Lester made this apology, because, glancing at Mary, he saw that her face was quite red, and that she was annoyed by the consideration of the question.

“There being no doubt on this point----”

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Lester,” interposed Dr. Lynch, in a bland and almost supercilious tone, “but there is some doubt about it.”

All eyes were directed towards the doctor. Eugene looked stern and indignant; the conduct of the unwelcome guest appeared like a premeditated insult to him. Dick Birch’s fingers were involuntarily clutched together; he was in condition to lay violent hands on the doctor. Julia placed her finger upon his arm; and this prevented him from executing the purpose in his mind.

“Dr. Lynch, do I understand you to raise an objection to the legality of the marriage?” asked Mr. Lester, now quite startled out of his propriety by the unexpected event.

“I do raise an objection,” replied the doctor, who was already revelling in the misery he intended to produce.

“What objection?”

“The marriage was not legal,” he replied, triumphantly, as he glanced at Eugene.

“The ceremony was performed by the reverend gentleman now present; the marriage is duly recorded, and there are plenty of witnesses of the fact.”

“I appeal to your legal adviser, at your side, to say whether or not these are sufficient to constitute a legal marriage!” said Dr. Lynch, apparently bent upon prolonging the joy of his triumph, and upon keeping the parties in suspense as long as he could.

“If the parties are competent to marry, they are sufficient,” said the lawyer.

“But the parties to this marriage were not competent.”

“What do you mean, you villain!” roared Dick Birch, unable any longer to repress his rage.

“Soft words, if you please, Mr. Birch,” replied Dr. Lynch, with affected politeness. “I purpose to prove all I allege.”

“What do you allege, Dr. Lynch?” interposed the lawyer.

“I allege that the lady was not competent to marry. She was the wife of another man.”

“Her husband was dead.”

“I beg your pardon. He was living.”

“Why don’t you prove it?” demanded Dick Birch.

“I will.”

Dr. Lynch went out of the room, opened the front door, and presently appeared with the stranger whom he had met at his office.

“Here is my proof,” said he, pointing to the stranger.

It was Eliot Buckstone!