The Bequest Read online

  Produced by David Widger

  SHIP'S COMPANY

  By W.W. Jacobs

  THE BEQUEST

  R. Robert Clarkson sat by his fire, smoking thoughtfully. His lifelongneighbour and successful rival in love had passed away a few days before,and Mr. Clarkson, fresh from the obsequies, sat musing on the fragilityof man and the inconvenience that sometimes attended his departure.

  His meditations were disturbed by a low knocking on the front door, whichopened on to the street. In response to his invitation it opened slowly,and a small middle-aged man of doleful aspect entered softly and closedit behind him.

  "Evening, Bob," he said, in stricken accents. "I thought I'd just stepround to see how you was bearing up. Fancy pore old Phipps! Why, I'da'most as soon it had been me. A'most."

  Mr. Clarkson nodded.

  "Here to-day and gone to-morrow," continued Mr. Smithson, taking a seat."Well, well! So you'll have her at last-pore thing."

  "That was his wish," said Mr. Clarkson, in a dull voice.

  "And very generous of him too," said Mr. Smithson. "Everybody is sayingso. Certainly he couldn't take her away with him. How long is it sinceyou was both of you courting her?"

  "Thirty years come June," replied the other.

  "Shows what waiting does, and patience," commented Mr. Smithson. "Ifyou'd been like some chaps and gone abroad, where would you have beennow? Where would have been the reward of your faithful heart?"

  Mr. Clarkson, whose pipe had gone out, took a coal from the fire and litit again.

  "I can't understand him dying at his age," he said, darkly. "He ought tohave lived to ninety if he'd been taken care of."

  "Well, he's gone, pore chap," said his friend. "What a blessing it mustha' been to him in his last moments to think that he had made provisionfor his wife."

  "Provision!" exclaimed Mr. Clarkson. "Why he's left her nothing but thefurniture and fifty pounds insurance money--nothing in the world."

  Mr. Smithson fidgeted. "I mean you," he said, staring.

  "Oh!" said the other. "Oh, yes--yes, of course."

  "And he doesn't want you to eat your heart out in waiting," said Mr.Smithson. "'Never mind about me,' he said to her; 'you go and make Bobhappy.' Wonderful pretty girl she used to be, didn't she?" Mr. Clarksonassented.

  "And I've no doubt she looks the same to you as ever she did," pursuedthe sentimental Mr. Smithson. "That's the extraordinary part of it."

  Mr. Clarkson turned and eyed him; removed the pipe from his mouth, and,after hesitating a moment, replaced it with a jerk.

  "She says she'd rather be faithful to his memory," continued thepersevering Mr. Smithson, "but his wishes are her law. She said so to mymissis only yesterday."

  "Still, she ought to be considered," said Mr. Clarkson, shaking his head."I think that somebody ought to put it to her. She has got her feelings,poor thing, and, if she would rather not marry again, she oughtn't to becompelled to."

  "Just what my missis did say to her," said the other; "but she didn't paymuch attention. She said it was Henry's wish and she didn't care whathappened to her now he's gone. Besides, if you come to think of it, whatelse is she to do? Don't you worry, Bob; you won't lose her again."

  Mr. Clarkson, staring at the fire, mused darkly. For thirty years he hadplayed the congenial part of the disappointed admirer but faithfulfriend. He had intended to play it for at least fifty or sixty. Hewished that he had had the strength of mind to refuse the bequest whenthe late Mr. Phipps first mentioned it, or taken a firmer line over thecongratulations of his friends. As it was, Little Molton quiteunderstood that after thirty years' waiting the faithful heart was to berewarded at last. Public opinion seemed to be that the late Mr. Phippshad behaved with extraordinary generosity.

  "It's rather late in life for me to begin," said Mr. Clarkson at last.

  "Better late than never," said the cheerful Mr. Smithson.

  "And something seems to tell me that I ain't long for this world,"continued Mr. Clarkson, eyeing him with some disfavour.

  "Stuff and nonsense," said Mr. Smithson. "You'll lose all them ideas assoon as you're married. You'll have somebody to look after you and helpyou spend your money."

  Mr. Clarkson emitted a dismal groan, and clapping his hand over his mouthstrove to make it pass muster as a yawn. It was evident that themalicious Mr. Smithson was deriving considerable pleasure from hisdiscomfiture--the pleasure natural to the father of seven over thetroubles of a comfortable bachelor. Mr. Clarkson, anxious to share histroubles with somebody, came to a sudden and malicious determination toshare them with Mr. Smithson.

  "I don't want anybody to help me spend my money," he said, slowly."First and last I've saved a tidy bit. I've got this house, those threecottages in Turner's Lane, and pretty near six hundred pounds in thebank."

  Mr. Smithson's eyes glistened.

  "I had thought--it had occurred to me," said Mr. Clarkson, trying to keepas near the truth as possible, "to leave my property to a friend o' mine--a hard-working man with a large family. However, it's no use talkingabout that now. It's too late."

  "Who--who was it?" inquired his friend, trying to keep his voice steady.

  Mr. Clarkson shook his head. "It's no good talking about that now,George," he said, eyeing him with sly enjoyment. "I shall have to leaveeverything to my wife now. After all, perhaps it does more harm thangood to leave money to people."

  "Rubbish!" said Mr. Smithson, sharply. "Who was it?"

  "You, George," said Mr. Clarkson, softly.

  "Me?" said the other, with a gasp. "Me?" He jumped up from his chair,and, seizing the other's hand, shook it fervently.

  "I oughtn't to have told you, George," said Mr. Clarkson, with greatsatisfaction. "It'll only make you miserable. It's just one o' themight ha' beens."

  Mr. Smithson, with his back to the fire and his hands twisted behind him,stood with his eyes fixed in thought.

  "It's rather cool of Phipps," he said, after a long silence; "rathercool, I think, to go out of the world and just leave his wife to you tolook after. Some men wouldn't stand it. You're too easy-going, Bob,that's what's the matter with you."

  Mr. Clarkson sighed.

  "And get took advantage of," added his friend.

  "It's all very well to talk," said Mr. Clarkson, "but what can I do? Iought to have spoke up at the time. It's too late now."

  "If I was you," said his friend very earnestly, "and didn't want to marryher, I should tell her so. Say what you like it ain't fair to her youknow. It ain't fair to the pore woman. She'd never forgive you if shefound it out."

  "Everybody's taking it for granted," said the other.

  "Let everybody look after their own business," said Mr. Smithson, tartly."Now, look here, Bob; suppose I get you out of this business, how am I tobe sure you'll leave your property to me?--not that I want it. Supposeyou altered your will?"

  "If you get me out of it, every penny I leave will go to you," said Mr.Clarkson, fervently. "I haven't got any relations, and it don't matterin the slightest to me who has it after I'm gone."

  "As true as you stand there?" demanded the other, eyeing him fixedly.

  "As true as I stand here," said Mr. Clarkson, smiting his chest, andshook hands again.

  Long after his visitor had gone he sat gazing in a brooding fashion atthe fire. As a single man his wants were few, and he could live on hissavings; as the husband of Mrs. Phipps he would be compelled to resumethe work he thought he had dropped for good three years before.Moreover, Mrs. Phipps possessed a strength of character that had manytimes caused him to congratulate himself upon her choice of a husband.

  Slowly but surely his fetters were made secure. Two days later the widowdeparted to spend six weeks w
ith a sister; but any joy that he might havefelt over the circumstance was marred by the fact that he had to carryher bags down to the railway station and see her off. The key of herhouse was left with him, with strict injunctions to go in and water hergeraniums every day, while two canaries and a bullfinch had to be removedto his own house in order that they might have constant attention