Charles Palliser (109 page)

Read Charles Palliser Online

Authors: The Quincunx

“Why are you endangering yourself for me?” I asked.

I wondered if this man had been ordered by Dr Alabaster to win his way into my trust like this, and although from his countenance I doubted it, I dared trust nobody.

“Should I need a reason? But if you must have one, ascribe it to my love for your father.” He added gravely: “I have heard that you have seen him.”

I tried to say “I have”, but the words stuck in my throat.

“I am sorry for it,” the old gentleman said. “But I promise you that he is not always as he is now.”

“What do you mean?”

“When he first came here he was in complete possession of his faculties.”

“He was sane?” I almost cried.

“Completely,” Mr Nolloth replied.

At his words I felt a surge of relief. But an instant later I realized what this meant : if he was sane when he killed my grandfather then he committed murder. And yet if Mr Escreet had been telling the truth when he had told my mother that her husband was sane, was he also speaking the truth when he had said that the quarrel was only a charade? In that case, could Peter Clothier indeed be innocent?

“As I say, he was sane,” Mr Nolloth said slowly, “but labouring under a great mental affliction.”

He paused and I said: “Have no fear. I know — I have known for several months —

that my grandfather was murdered by …” I could not finish the sentence.

“By your father?” exclaimed Mr Nolloth. “Is that what you believe? Then allow me to lift that burden at least from your shoulders. Your father was completely innocent of that terrible crime.”

I said nothing for another possibility had presented itself to me: that if the old gentleman were not an
agent provocateur
of Dr Alabaster’s, then he might be a well-intentioned lunatic.

His next words, however, served somewhat to allay these suspicions: “I guess from your silence that you do not believe me. Why should you? I wish I had the time to explain it all to you. I have said that your father should never have been committed to this place. And he would not have been but for the plea of insanity that his father and brother entered in order to evade his indictment before the grand jury, for of course that was a ruse, a legal trick.”

“Yes,” I said, “but one intended to save him from … from the consequences of being found guilty.”

“No,” Mr Nolloth said and laughed mirthlessly. “It was not intended to save him from the gallows but to give him into the custody of his father and then Dr Alabaster —

perhaps a worse fate than execution. I promise you, he could never have been found guilty if the case had gone to trial. The evidence against him was wholly inadequate and the judge would have so directed the jury. Believe me, for I speak as a lawyer.”

“You are a lawyer!”

“Yes, an attorney-at-law. I imagine you are surprised that my knowledge of THE BEST OF INTENTIONS

503

the law has not enabled me to save myself from this place. The truth is that the laws and procedures relating to lunacy — particularly those of the court of Chancery — are wholly irrational and unjust and may easily be manipulated for unscrupulous ends. Like your father, I have the misfortune to be a Chancery lunatic — quite the most wretched, I assure you.”

“But how do you know so much of his history?”

“He told me everything when he first came here — and he told it in such a manner that I did not doubt him for an instant.”

“But if he was sane then … ” I began and could not go on.

“How does that square with the poor creature you saw last night?” the old gentleman gently supplied. “The answer is only too simple. Alabaster and his people set out to madden him — Hinxman (he is the enormously tall one) and Rookyard and the others, though I except Stillingfleet for I believe he has some vestiges of humanity left.”

“How?” I said. “How can a sane man be turned into a lunatic?”

“How?” Mr Nolloth repeated. “Do not ask. But take my word for it that driving the sane mad is as profitable a part of the madhouse-keeper’s trade as curing the afflicted.

And they are so much more often successful in making than in unmaking lunatics that I have often wondered if we are not all insane, and what we name sanity is no more than a collective agreement to behave in the same mad ways. For the two are mingled strangely in that poor young man, your father.”

Young? I thought in amazement. He must be five- or six-and-thirty!

“For even he,” Mr Nolloth went on, “has periods of relative lucidity.” His voice trembled slightly as he added: “I wish he did not.”

“Why do you say that?”

He paused and then said: “At such times he thinks of his wife, your mother. Would it grieve you to tell me whether she lives and what has become of her?”

The request was gently expressed and I told him in a very few words.

He sighed and said: “I am sorry. Very sorry. I hope Peter never learns of this. Nor indeed of your existence — if you will forgive me for saying so — for I know that he rejoiced that no child was born of his brief marriage to grow up in danger and shame.

But I fear that Dr Alabaster and Hinxman will tell him about both of you if he recovers enough to understand.” Then he said sadly: “Your arrival here will accomplish several of their purposes together.”

“What purposes?” I asked. “What do they intend for me?”

He hesitated before saying: “Do you understand how it is that your father’s family would gain by your death?”

“Indeed I do!” I exclaimed. “It is on account of the codicil to my great-greatgrandfather’s will which Mr Escreet …”

To my surprise he interrupted me: “I know all about how your grandfather purchased it through the agency of Mr Escreet. But tell me what has become of it since your father confided it to your mother’s keeping at the inn in Hertford.”

“I believe that it has very recently come into the possession of the Clothier family,” I said and explained how my mother had been tricked into parting with it to Mr Sancious (disguised as Steplight), and my belief that he and Mrs Fortisqumce were agents of the Clothiers.

“Then that explains what I have overheard. They must have laid it before the Court of Chancery, for the Master of the Rolls is about to sign an order making you a ward of court in less than a week.”

504

THE PALPHRAMONDS

“So I was right!” I exclaimed, remembering my assumptions about the significance of my appearance before the Court.

The old gentleman asked me what I meant by this and so I briefly outlined my mother’s story and my own up to her death, then explained how I had been led into a trap at the house of Daniel Porteous and his wife; how I had been deceived into believing that I had encountered them by chance; how I had been taken before the court and perplexed by some of the things said and done there, then lied to (by Emma) in being told that I had been legally assigned to the guardianship of these people; how I had discovered the real identity of the family; and how I had tried to escape but had been detected and brought here.

“Then you understand,” Mr Nolloth asked, “that at your death your grandfather, Silas Clothier, inherits the Hougham estate outright?”

I nodded and he said: “This is why Peter has always been so worried for the safety of your mother. The Clothiers’ scheme is close to fruition, for from what I have overheard I believe they have instructed Dr Alabaster either to bring about your death or to ensure that you be truly mad before the Master’s order can be signed, for otherwise the Mompessons will ask him to assign you to the custody of another doctor. So they must achieve their purpose within a week.”

“But surely the Master would be suspicious if I … ”I protested.

I left the sentence unfinished.

“No,” the old gentleman replied thoughtfully. “For only consider the matter from his point of view. He saw you before him in court ill and confused. Since then two justices of the peace have examined you (as required) and signed an order for your committal, and they can testify to your insanity. For what were you doing? Making absurd charges against your family and refusing to eat because you believed they were trying to poison you!”

“Then what do you think will happen to me?”

“A Commission of Lunacy convened by the Court of Chancery will most likely examine you and, assuming that it finds you to be insane, as I trust Dr Alabaster to ensure that it will, and the Mompessons’ request fails, then you will stay here indefinitely. Though I don’t think your life would be suffered to last very long in that event.”

We were both silent for a few moments and then he said: “At all costs, you must escape from here, and as soon as possible. But how?”

I was about to speak when he whispered: “Listen!”

At first I could hear nothing, but then I detected a faint noise that might have been the clanging of a metal door.

“Yallop has begun his rounds,” Mr Nolloth said. “I dare not stay longer. I will try to come again tomorrow night.”

“Please wait for a moment,” I said urgently.

“Yes, yes, I will think about how you might escape,” he said hastily.

“It’s not that,” I replied. “Tell me why you believe Peter Clothier was innocent.”

“Is that more important to you than escaping?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, “for I don’t believe there is any way I can be got free of this place, and I must know the truth before …”

I broke off but he said: “I understand. I will try to come again.”

Without another word he left the grille and though I squeezed myself against it to see him go, he was so quick that he was already out of sight along the THE BEST OF INTENTIONS

505

passage. He left me in a state of exhaustion, but too excited and moved to contemplate sleep.

The next day passed like the previous one: Rookyard brought food and water which I neglected in favour of bread that Mr Nolloth managed to deliver through the grille.

Late that night he appeared again at the door, to my delight, and brought with him more bread and water.

“I have been trying to think of how you might escape,” he began; “but I have made no advance.”

“Mr Nolloth, I beg you: please tell me what you know of my grandfather’s death.”

“If you wish it,” he answered. “But first tell me, how much do you know of what happened the night he was killed?”

I explained what I had learned from reading my mother’s account and said that although I had perused it only once, it was engraved on my memory.

“Then I will tell you without delay what will make all clear. Do you recall the gift which your grandfather received that night from Mr Fortisquince?”

I nodded.

“Have you any idea what it was, or, rather, what your grandfather expected it to be?”

“No,” I said hesitatingly, but then in growing excitement I told him of my guess that the reason why my grandfather had lost interest in the codicil was because he hoped to obtain a document that was even more effective.

“You are perfectly correct,” the old gentleman said. “What your grandfather expected to receive that night was a document of the utmost importance. This was nothing less than a will of Jeoffrey Huffam, your great-great-grandfather, dated later than the one which was probated.”

My guess had been on target!

“And if, as I believe we may assume, it was not a forgery,” the old gentleman continued, “then since a will remains effective no matter how long it has been lost sight of, once it had been probated it would have displaced both the original will and also the codicil about which there has been so much to-do.”

“Then what would have been the consequences?” I demanded quickly.

“Very far-reaching for a great number of people. The will disinherited your greatgrandfather, James, in favour of Jeoffrey Huffam’s infant grandson.”

“My grandfather!” I exclaimed.

“Precisely. John, then a child of a few months, became vested in the title to his grandfather’s property. And therefore the sale of the Hougham estate by James would be retrospectively invalidated by the will beyond question, for James had no interest in the estate to convey. In short, if the will could have been probated it would have made your grandfather the outright owner of the estate immediately.”

“His great ambition so close to being achieved!” I murmured. “The Mompes-sons ousted and the Clothiers thwarted.” Many questions flooded into my mind but one of them thrust itself forward ahead of the others: “But where had the will been all those many years?”

“Apparently in the Mompesson family, for someone in that household wrote to your grandfather and undertook to obtain it for him.”

506 THE

PALPHRAMONDS

“The letter with the Mompessons’ crest,” I cried, “that my mother mentioned ! “

So that indeed explained why, immediately after receiving it, my grandfather had lost interest either in laying the codicil before the courts or in bringing about my mother’s marriage with Daniel Clothier.

Then I asked: “But why should someone in the Mompessons’ trust have wished to betray them? Who was this friend on the inside? And, indeed, why should the will have been kept by them for so long since it represented so grave a danger to their interests?”

“These are questions, young gentleman, on which your father and I have had a great deal of leisure to speculate, but without profit.”

“I beg your pardon,” I said. “Please continue. What happened, then, on that fateful night?”

“Not so fast. I must go back to the day about a week before that night when your mother and father informed your grandfather of their desire to marry. Did your mother tell you that he set the date of the wedding for a week hence and proposed to invite his old friend, Martin Fortisquince with whom he had quarrelled, and his new wife?”

“Yes, she was very puzzled by this.”

“Here, then, is the explanation. Your grandfather had secret conference of your father and Mr Escreet and told them of the promise that had been made — though he did not identify the individual in the Mompessons’ confidence. He explained that his unknown helper had proposed using Mr Fortisquince as the unwitting agent to convey the document from the Mompessons’ house to himself. The intention was that the will would be removed from Sir Perceval’s safe place on the morning of the wedding and would immediately be placed by the unknown party in the hands of Mr Fortisquince who would be told that it was a gift for your grandfather and should be given to him that very day. Mr Fortisquince, having no idea of the significance of what he bore, would bring it to the house that evening. So it was in order to provide Mr Fortisquince with a reason for coming to the house that your grandfather invited him and his wife to the wedding-feast.”

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