That Mainwaring Affair by A. Maynard Barbour (ebook reader computer txt) 📖

low tones reminded me of nothing so much as the purring of a tiger; while the smile that played about his lips was more terrible than anything I had ever seen on human face. It was ten times more fearful than the muzzle of the revolver confronting me, and seemed to freeze the very blood in my veins.

"'You take a base advantage; I am unarmed," I sneered.

"'I knew too well with whom I had to deal to come unarmed,' he replied; 'though this,' and he lowered the revolver, 'this is not the sort of weapon you would employ,—a thrust in the dark, a stab in the back, that is your style, coward!"

"'I demand an explanation of this,' I said.

"He folded his arms, still retaining his hold upon the weapon, as he answered, 'Explanations will follow in due time; but surely, on the eve of the fiftieth anniversary of such a life as yours, congratulations are first in order. Allow me to congratulate you, Hugh Mainwaring, upon the success which has attended and crowned the past twenty-five years of your life! upon the rich harvest you have reaped during all these years; the amassed wealth, the gratified ambitions, the almost illimitable power, the adulation and homage,—all so precious to your sordid soul, and for which you have bartered honor, happiness, character, all, in short, that life is worth. Standing, as you do to-night, at the fiftieth milestone on life's journey, I congratulate you upon your recollections of the past, and upon your anticipations for the future, as you descend to an unhonored and unloved old age!'

"Every word was heaped with scorn, and, as I looked into the burning eyes fixed upon mine and watched the sardonic smile hovering about his lips, I wondered whether he were some Mephistopheles—some fiend incarnate—sent to torture me, or whether he were really flesh and blood.

"The mocking smile now left his face, but his eyes held me speechless as he continued,—

"'No wonder that memories of bygone years haunted your thoughts to-night! Memories, perhaps, of a father whose dying will you disregarded; of a brother whom you twice defrauded,—once of the honor and sanctity of his home, then, as if that were not enough, of his birthright,—his heritage from generations of our race—'

"'Stop!' I cried, stung to anger by his accusations and startled by the strange words, 'our race,' which seemed to fall so familiarly from his lips. 'Stop! are you mad?" Do you know what you are saying? Once more I demand that you state who or what you are, and your business here!'

"'That is quickly stated, Hugh Mainwaring,' he answered, in tones which made my heart beat with a strange dread; 'I am Harold Scott Mainwaring! I am here to claim no brotherhood or kinship with you, but to claim and to have my own, the birthright restored to me by the last will and testament of a dying father, of which you have defrauded me for twenty-five years!"

"'You are a liar and an impostor!' I cried, enraged at the sound of my brother's name, and for the instant believing the man to be some emissary of Hobson's who had used it to work upon my feelings.

"Drawing himself up to his full height, his eyes blazing, he answered in low tones, 'Dare you apply those epithets to me, usurper that you are? You are a liar and a thief, and if you had your deserts you would be in a felon's cell to-night, or transported to the wilds of Australia! I an impostor? See and judge for yourself!' and with a sudden, swift movement the black curling hair and mustache were dashed to the floor, and he stood before me the exact counterpart of myself. Stunned by the transformation, I gazed at him speechless; it was like looking in a mirror, feature for feature identically the same! For a few seconds my brain seemed to reel from the shock, but his tones recalled me to myself.

"'Ah!' he said, with mocking emphasis, 'who is the impostor now?'

"My first thought was of self-vindication, and to effect, if possible, a compromise with him. 'I am no impostor or usurper,' I said, 'because, believing you dead, I have used that to which in the event of your death I would be legally entitled even had you any claim, and I am willing, not as an acknowledgment of any valid claim on your part, but as a concession on my own part, to give you a liberal share in the estate, or to pay you any reasonable sum which you may require—

"He stopped me with an intolerant gesture. 'Do not attempt any palliation of the past with me,' he said, sternly; 'it is worse than useless; and do not think that you can make any compromises with me or purchase my silence with your ill-gotten wealth. That may have served your purpose in the past with your associate and coadjutor, Richard Hobson, the man who holds in his mercenary grasp the flimsy reputation which is all that is left to you, or with the woman—cruel as the grave and false as hell—who once wrecked my life, and now, with the son that you dare not acknowledge, rules your home, but you cannot buy my silence. I come to you as no beggar! I am a richer man to-day than you, but for the sake of generations past, as well as of generations yet to come, I will have my own. The estate which was once my forefathers shall be my son's, and his sons' after him!'

"As I listened, my whole soul rose against him in bitter hatred, the old hatred of my youth. 'I defy you,' I' cried, hotly, 'to produce one atom of proof in support of your claim or of your charges against me! The estate is mine, and I will make you rue the day that you dare dispute my right and title to it!'

"His eyes flashed with scorn as he replied, 'You lie, Hugh Mainwaring! Your life for the past twenty-five years has been nothing but a lie, and the day just closed has witnessed the final act in this farce of yours. That I have already undone, and just as surely I will undo the work of the past years. And let me assure you I have no lack of proof with which to verify either my own claim or any assertion I have made, or may yet make, against you. I have proof that on the night preceding my father's death he made a will restoring to me my full rights, which you have fraudulently withheld all these years; and through my son, whom you have known for the past eighteen months as your private secretary, I have proof that that will is still in existence, of itself an irrefutable witness against you!'

"With the mention of my secretary the truth flashed upon me. I realized I was completely in his power, and with a sense of my own impotency my rage and hatred increased. Forgetful of the weapon in his hand and almost blind with fury, I sprang towards him, intending to throttle him—to strangle him—until he should plead for mercy. Instantly he raised the revolver in warning, but not before I had seized his wrist, turning the weapon from myself. A brief struggle followed, in which I soon found my strength was no match for his. Growing desperate, I summoned all my strength for one tremendous effort, at the same time holding his wrist in a vice-like grip, forcing his hand higher and turning the revolver more and more in his direction. Suddenly there was a flash,—a sharp report,—and he fell heavily to the floor, dragging me down upon him.

"For an instant I was too much stunned and bewildered to realize what had happened, but a glance at my opponent revealed the situation. He lay motionless where he had fallen, and a ghastly wound over the right eye told the terrible story. Dazed with horror, I placed my hand over his heart, but there was no motion, no life,—he was dead! The awful truth forced itself upon me. Mad and blind with rage, I had turned the weapon upon him and it had discharged,—whether by some sudden movement of his hand, or by the accidental pressure of my own fingers upon the trigger, God alone knows, I do not! One fact I could not then, nor ever can, forget; it was my hand that gave the weapon its deadly aim, however blindly or unwittingly, and the blood of my brother whom I had wronged and defrauded now lay at my door.

"The agony of remorse that followed was something beyond description, beyond any suffering of which I had ever dreamed; but suddenly a thought flashed upon me which added new horror, causing me to spring to my feet cold with terror, while great beads of perspiration gathered on my brow. When that terrible scene should be revealed, not alone in the approaching morning light, but in the light of past events which, if the last words spoken by those lips now sealed in death were true, could no longer be kept secret, what would be the world's verdict?" Murder! fratricide! and I? Great God! of what avail would be any plea of mine in the face of such damning evidence?

"I rushed to the tower-room, and hastily opening my safe, took from a private drawer therein a key and with trembling fingers fitted it into the lock of a large metallic box which contained the family jewels, and which for more than twenty-five years had held the old will executed by my father on his death-bed. I had seen it there less than forty-eight hours before, and in my desperation I now determined to destroy it. My very haste and eagerness delayed me, but at last the cover flew back, revealing the gleaming jewels, but—the will was not there! Unable to believe my own eyes, I drew my fingers carefully back and forth through the narrow receptacle where it had lain, and among the satin linings of the various compartments, but in vain; the will was gone! My brother had spoken the truth, and the will was doubtless in the possession of his son, who, under its terms, was now himself heir to the estate. The room grew dim and the walls themselves seemed to whirl swiftly about me as, with great difficulty, I groped my way back to the library, where I stood gazing at that strange counterpart of myself, till, under the growing horror of the situation, it seemed to my benumbed senses as though I were some disembodied spirit hovering above his own corpse. The horrible illusion was like a nightmare; I could not throw it off, and I would then and there have gone stark, staring mad, but that there came to me out of that awful chaos of fancies a suggestion which seemed like an inspiration. 'It is Hugh Mainwaring,' I said to myself, 'Hugh Mainwaring died to-night!'

"My fevered brain grew cool, my pulse steady, and my nerves firm as I proceeded at once to act upon the idea. Kneeling beside the dead man, I examined the wound. The bullet had entered above the right eye and passed downward, coming out at the base of the brain; from both wounds the blood was flowing in a slow, sluggish stream. Drawing a large handkerchief from my pocket, I bound it tightly about the head over both wounds, knotting it firmly; then carrying the body into the tower-room, I made sure that all doors were locked, and proceeded to put into execution the plan so suddenly formed. By this time I was myself, and, though the task before me was neither easy nor pleasant to perform, I went about it as calmly and methodically as though it were some ordinary business transaction. As expeditiously as possible I removed the dead man's clothing and my own, which I then exchanged, dressing the lifeless