even so humble an individual as myself
might have pleased her. However, regrets came too late; she was dead
and all between us at an end.
A few weeks later, I discovered that here I was mistaken, for, after a
preliminary telegram inquiring whether I was in residence at the
Grange, which I answered on a prepaid form to the address of some
unknown lawyers in London, there arrived at lunch time on the
following day a gentleman of the name of Mellis, evidently one of the
firm of Mellis & Mellis who had sent me the telegram. He was shown in
and, without waiting for luncheon, said:
“I believe I am addressing Mr. Allan Quatermain.”
I bowed and he went on:
“I come upon a strange errand, Mr. Quatermain, so strange that I doubt
whether, in the course of your life, which as I have heard has been
full of adventure, you have ever known its equal. You were, I believe,
well acquainted with our late client, Lord Ragnall, also with his
wife, Lady Ragnall, formerly the Hon. Luna Holmes, of whose recent sad
death you may perhaps have heard.”
I said that this was so, and the lawyer went on in his dry precise
way, watching my face as he spoke:
“It would appear, Mr. Quatermain, that Lady Ragnall must have been
much attached to you, since, a while ago, after a visit that you paid
to her at Ragnall Castle, she came to our office and made a will, a
thing I may add that we had never been able to persuade her to do.
Under that will—as you will see presently, for I have brought a copy
with me—she left everything she possessed, that is, all the great
Ragnall property and accumulated personalty of which she had the power
to dispose at her unfettered discretion, to—ahem—to you .”
“Great heavens!” I exclaimed, and sank back into a chair.
“As I do not sail under false colours,” went on Mr. Mellis with a dry
smile, “I may as well tell you at once that both I and my partner
protested vehemently against the execution of such a will, for reasons
that seemed good to us but which I need not set out. She remained firm
as a rock.
“‘You think I am mad,’ she said. ‘Foreseeing this, I have taken the
precaution of visiting two eminent London specialists to whom I told
all my history, including that of the mental obscuration from which I
suffered for a while as the result of shock. Each of these examined me
carefully and subjected me to tests with the result—but here are
their certificates and you can judge for yourselves.’
“I, or rather we, read the certificates, which, of course, we have
preserved. To be brief, they stated that her ladyship was of
absolutely sound and normal mind, although certain of her theories
might be thought unusual, but not more so than those of thousands of
others, some of them eminent in various walks of life. In face of
these documents, which were entirely endorsed by our own observation,
there was but one thing to do, namely, to prepare the will in
accordance with our client’s clear and definite instructions. While we
were writing these down, she said suddenly:
“‘Something has occurred to me. I shall never change my mind, nor
shall I remarry, but, from my knowledge of Mr. Quatermain, I think it
possible and even probable that he will refuse this great inheritance’
—a statement, sir, which struck us as so incredible that we made no
comment.
“‘In that event,’ she continued, ‘I wish all the real property to be
realized and together with the personalty, except certain legacies, to
be divided among the societies, institutions, and charities that are
written down upon this list,’ and she handed us a document, ‘unless
indeed Mr. Quatermain, whom, should he survive me, I leave my sole
executor, should disapprove of any of them.’
“Do you now understand the situation, sir?”
“Quite,” I answered. “That is, no doubt I shall when I have read the
will. Meanwhile, I suggest that you must be hungry after your journey
and