Mr. Brownlow's Codicil

MR. BROWNLOW'S CODICIL
== By Auguste Blondel ==
Translated from the French, for Short Stories, by Mrs. H. L. B. Porter. Published in Short Stories 1894
Two years had run on since the first appearance of Lilian, while three years had passed without receiving the habitual visit of my client. My clerk, the one that has been there since the beginning, — for at present I have more than one, — awaited him with anxiety. I presume that some half-crowns given by Mr. Brownlow added considerably to his weekly pay. Perhaps, also, he nourished in his secret heart a tender sentiment for his pretty visitor. An absence so long was without precedent I determined to present myself at Vine Cottage to learn the reason. I was received by one of the daughters of my client. She informed me that her suffering father had kem his bed for several days. 
" Was he seriously attacked ? " 
"It was feared so." 
" Was he conscious ? " 
" Yes, but he was very feeble." 
« Could I see him ? " 
" He could not be questioned, he suffered too much to see any one." 
The responses of this woman made me believe that Mr. Brownlow would die. I thought of the beautiful child, so dear to the old gentleman. I thought of the mother also, for the inquiries I had made on this subject had been most favorable to her. It was true she was doing the simple daily work of a spinner ; but by her culture and by her character she had shown herself far above her condition. Poor woman, she had suffered so much during the illness of her husband and the infancy of Lilian! She had known peace and security for scarcely two years, and now, if old James Brownlow was going to die, there was before her misery and torturing want. Therefore, in my double character of friend and man-of-law, I requested to be admitted to an interview with my client. 
While I was formulating my request, the second daughter of Mr. Brownlow entered. She joined her sister in opposing my wishes. Their attitude was so glacial, so inflexible, that I feared they had divined something of the truth. I tried now to make them change their minds. 
"The doctor," they affirmed, "had prohibited all visits." 
" Will you permit me to await the arrival of the doctor ? I can prove to him how necessary it is that I should see Mr. Brownlow?" 
"Certainly not," answered Mrs. Wrench. "It shall not be with my consent, if the last moments of my father are troubled with business." 
My prayers were useless, so I resorted to strategy. I took my hat, shrugged my shoulders, as a man who had discharged his duty, and felt relieved thereby. 
" As you please, my dear ladies ; but I forewarn you, so that later you may have nothing to blame me for. I can only tell you this : if I cannot speak to your father to-day, it may make some difference in the amount of your inheritance." 
That was very nearly true ; but not in the sense I had given them to understand. This thrust went home. I had touched the sensitive point — avarice. 
The sisters exchanged a look and commenced whispering to each other. I hoped to see them fall into the snare ; but two women of this species make very strong antagonists, even for the cleverest man-of-law. 
"Mr. Sarr," said the widow, "will, of course, be present to explain to us exactly what Father does. We can then decide what will be the best course for us to take." 
She puckered up her thin lips and cast at me an inquisitorial look. 
" No, I cannot assent to the condition you demand of me. The business is of an absolutely private nature. Diverse interests are at stake ; but, believe me, the matter is probably of the greatest importance." 
The sisters again exchanged a glance, as if to say, " We have already decided." Mrs. Wrench crossed her hands upon her lap. 
"If it is so, sir," she said, "you cannot see Mr. Brownlow. What secrets can a father have from his daughters ? " 
"In short, we do not believe a word of your story,"' added the other, defiantly. 
"And," continued Mrs. Wrench, mechanically, "if there is, indeed, a secret, perhaps that letter discovered by us a few days ago has something to do with the mystery." 
She held out to me a letter, written in a childish hand, and which contained these words : 
« Dear Grandpapa :"< I have had a cold and' I cannot go to-day. I love yon dearly. 
" Yours, Lilian." 
Thus they knew something or, at least, suspected something. 
"Answer me," cried Mrs. Wrench, tapping violently with her foot, " who is this Lilian — ^the child of that abject woman, I suppose ? It is concerning her you wish to speak to my father ; and she, no doubt, is your important business ?" 
I was saved an answer, as at this instant the door opened suddenly, and upon the threshold, enveloped in an old dressing gown, appeared an emaciated, feeble being. It was my client, who fell breathless upon the seat nearest him. 
The doctor had no need to tell me that the moments of my dear friend were numbered. In ten days sickness had absolutely destroyed him, and death was written upon his pale countenance. 
He seemed so exhausted that I feared he would die on the spot. His daughters looked at him in mute astonishment and — shall I confess it? — I was tempted to rejoice greatly at their discomfiture. Running to the other side of the room, where fortunately I found the sideboard furnished with liquors and glasses, I filled a tumbler with brandy. 
The dying man swallowed a few drops and seemed revived. 
" Go out," he said, in a husky voice, and shook his skeleton hand towards his daughters. " Go out this instant ! " 
The women remained immovable in their places with an air of silent defiance. " Go out," continued he, " or I take God to witness I will leave a testament by which everything I have goes to a hospital." 
His voice was feeble and he spoke with difficulty ; but the words and the accents were so severe, so haughty, I could scarcely believe that he who spoke them was my timid and hesitating old friend. His daughters, not less siuprised than I, went slowly and reluctandy out of the room. 
My client fell back in his chair. " Shut the door and lock it," he murmured. Then he put his hand in mine. " God be thanked you are here at last ; I have expected you every minute for many days ! " 
" I had no idea that you were sick." 
" They have told me that they had sent to your house, and that you were away." 
" I have not received any letters and I have not left the city for several weeks." 
" Then they have hed. They have not let me see anyone, and they even tried to hide from me the gravity of my condition. I heard your voice and dragged myself as far as here. It was necessary to see you before it was too late." 
The sweat stood upon the brow of the old man, and he appeared so feeble that I made him take a little more brandy. 
" Add a codicil," he said. " I wish to leave all to my dear little Lilian — all." 
"No, not all!" I answered, surprised. He again relapsed into his habitual hesitation. 
" No, no," he replied, " not all. My daughters have been good, very good. But I wish to leave 6,000 pounds to my little Lilian, my poor Dick's child." 
I proposed to write a codicil at once, and for this purpose sought pen and paper ; but the eternal temporizing of my chent again was uppermost. 
" No, not now," he murmured. " I am better, perhaps I shall recover. But bring me the deed to-morrow morning, and I will sign it." 
I had no intention of letting him draw back before death came and I had already commenced to write the codicil. But scarcely had I traced two or three lines, when my old client fainted. In vain I tried to restore him. Very much against my will I was obliged to seek help. 
Mrs. Wrench was in the corridor and I am not sure that even at that moment her ear had not just quitted the keyhole, while her sister was not far behind her. The look which they cast on me expressed in eloquent terms what they thought of me. 
We carried Mr. Brownlow to his bed. The servants ran to find the doctor, and I withdrew, trusting that my client might be sufficiently well on the morrow to insist on my being admitted to his bedside. 
The next day, at nine o'clock precisely, I was at Vine Cottage, and was not surprised at being peremptorily refused entrance. I awaited the doctor, stopped him in the passage and begged him to come to my aid — or at least to make known to my patient that I was there. 
He would promise me nothing, however, and I saw from the tone of his answers that the events of the former evening had done me harm in his eyes. When he came out of the house, he did not hesitate to tell me the whole of his thoughts. " Conduct so injudicious as mine might not only* injure the patient, but his own career as a ph3rsician." Controlling my indignation I tried to put before him the circumstances, but he would not listen to me. "At least tell me how you found Mr. Brownlow this morning ? " 
" As bad as possible ; he has but a few hours to live." 
" Then," said I, " in refusing to come to my aid you will condemn to poverty the being he loves the best in the world." 
" I have nothing to do with family discussions," he replied, as he shut the door of his carriage and drove away. I left the place but only to return at different intervals throughout the day. Each time admittance was refused me, and I had reached the end of my expedients. Was there no way of corrupting the servants ? Unfortunately the door was always opened by Mrs. Wrench or her sister. I could not legally force a way, and entrance effected by violent means, even with the most laudable purposes, had always damaged a case in the eyes of the law. At last, heart-sick, I regained my lodgings, but I was fully determined to recommence my attempts the next day as soon as morning came. 
I dwell at some distance from Vine Cottage, in a house occupied by several lodgers. In the apartment above mine lived a young man, Robinson, with whom I was on excellent terms. I had finished drinking my tea and was reading when he knocked at the door. He came to ask me if I would make one of a party at whist with some of his friends. I had little inclination to meet people and, feeling sad and downcast, I declined Robinson's invitation, preferring to pass the evening with my book and pipe. I began to read again, and for some time I continued to do so without my attention being distracted by the peals of laughter which came down to me from overhead. But whatever I read, it was always Mr. Brownlow who occupied my thoughts. Perhaps, even at that moment, he was breathing his last sigh or perhaps was calling on me to help him carry out his wishes. 
I bitterly blamed the tolly of my client, and myself as well, for not having remained till I had assured the fortune of the young girl. In a word, it seemed to me that I had managed the affair very badly, and I felt very unhappy with the part I had taken. 
The clock struck half-past eleven. I shut my book and debated whether I had better go to bed or if I should smoke another pipe, when I heard some one knock at the street-door. " Some friend of Robinson's who is late," murmured I, "they will continue to amuse themselves all night." I thought I heard the mistress of the house answer the summons and then my door opened, and to my astonishment and stupefaction I saw Mr. Brownlow appear. I thought at first that I was dreaming, so impossible did it seem that this man who, the evening before, seemed scarcely able to sustain himself, this man whose agony still haunted me, was here in my chamber, clothed as during our last interview ! 
He appeared ill indeed, and his face was as cadaverous as when I last saw him in his parlor. 
At this unexpected sight the voice died within my lips and I felt incapable of speech or motion. 
How Mr. Brownlow was able to rise at night and traverse the distance which separated his home from mine, I could not tell. He so feeble, he who the evening before had fainted before taking a dozen steps or pronouncing as many words ! 
It was inexplicable, but it was not impossible since he stood before me. I recovered myself at last, and offered a chair to my client. He sat down with an air of fatigue. 
" My dear sir," I said to him, " you have been extremely imprudent" 
He turned his head and looked at me. 
What was there in that look that froze the blood in my veins ? What made my hair stand on end and caused me to feel that my senses were wandering ? Until this day I have been unable to solve this problem. There was something in it all inexplicable, inconceivable; something which changed my feelings from astonishment to terror — a terror which moved me strongly to rush from the room to save myself from some unknown danger. 
" It is necessary that I sign the codicil this minute," he said. 
Although his voice sounded strange, it recalled me to myself. At any price, it was imperative not to lose the occasion thus presented. I drew from my pocket the docmnent and spread it before Mr. Brownlow. 
" Wait one minute," stammered I. "I must go in quest of witnesses. It is always necessary to have witnesses." 
" You will hasten," he replied. And again his eyes met mine. I tried to avoid that look, but when I went out of the room I trembled from head to foot. Once on the stairway, I laughed at my terrors, and the card-party of Robinson's seemed to me a very happy coincidence. Nothing simpler than to go to my neighbor and ask two of the players to serve as witnesses. It was necessary that the codicil should be executed first, and after that, all legal formalities having been observed, I could take leisure to inform myself how Mr. Brownlow had been able to reach my house. 
Robinson and his friends uttered a " hurrah ! " on seeing me appear. I was acquainted with the guests, and among them were fortunately two lawyers, who had some knowledge of the present case. 
" Sorry to disturb you, gentlemen," I said, in explanation of my appearance; "but two of you will be so kind as to step down to my room, to serve as witnesses to a testament. Thomas and Hicks, my dear fellows, spare me a moment of your valuable time." 
The two gentlemen put down their cards and were about to follow me, when suddenly a thought came to my mind. 
The case which called for their presence was without precedent, since a sick man had risen from his death-bed to go and have his will altered. If Mr. Brownlow should die to-morrow, or within a few days, the codicil of the will would certainly be disputed ; but there were nine persons assembled in the card room. What if I should take them all as witnesses ? How could such attestation be questioned ? Therefore, retracing my steps, I said : 
" On further reflection and in order to avoid future litigation, I should be greatly obliged if you would all come down." 
"You can never take too many precautions," said Hicks, approvingly, as the guests of Robinson arose to follow me. 
" It is only old Brownlow," I heard Thomas say, as he entered my room, 
"It is certainly he," added Hicks. "Anyone would say that the poor old gentleman was at the point of death ! " 
I held a pen towards my client. In doing so our hands met, and I shivered at the icy touch. He signed his name with an admirably firm hand ; his signature was duly attested by Thomas and Hicks ; the others assisted by looking very curiously over their shoulders. Mr. Brownlow saluted these gentlemen, while I again apologized for interrupting their play. Then our numerous witnesses wished us good-evening, and returned to their game. I now cast my eyes towards the codicil, and then turned towards my client, to ask him a question ; but I was incapable of uttering a single syllable when I met his gaze. For a second time I noticed that same mysterious, indescribable look which had so strangely struck me, and I trembled like a leaf. 
. “It is necessary that I should return," said Mr. Brownlow, and he rose with pain, and as if by a superhuman effort. 
" Let me call a cab for you ? " I stammered. 
He shook his head and moved towards the door, which he opened. Upon the threshold he turned, and, for the last time, fixed his eyes upon me. I fell helplessly into an arm-chair, my heart beating as if about to burst. 
The clock struck midnight, and some seconds after, not without great effort, I rose and went in search of my client But one road led directly to his dwelling, and I ran over it as quickly as possible, but met no one. Thinking that I must have passed Mr. Brownlow without seeing him, I retraced my steps; but in vain. Once more I took the road to Vine Cottage. I rang and the door opened immediately. A servant, her apron up to her eyes, was standing at the door. 
"Has Mr. Brownlow returned?" I asked. The young girl looked stupidly at me. I repeated my question, adding " that he had just gone from my house." She seemed not to comprehend, but said : " The master died at half -past eleven." 
Then I was crazy, or else I had been dreaming. Returning to my room, I found that Robinson's card-party had not yet broken up. 
The first thing I did was to go to my desk. There, in perfect condition, lay the codicil signed a little before midnight 
It can be easily understood that trouble ensued when I produced the codicil. 
My late client's amiable daughters declared they should be happy on the day they saw me arrested for falsehood, conspiracy, and other atrocious crimes, to prove which they would gladly expend their last penny. 
Happily, the executors of the testament were men of ability and honor, and they would not permit a suit lost in advance. 
As for me, I had nothing to hide, since it was clearly established that James Brownlow had signed the codicil in presence of ten witnesses, disinterested, and all well known. 
Free as the daughters were to declare that it was physically impossible for James Brownlow to leave his bed that night, we had absolute certainty that he had done so, that he had come to my house, and that he had signed the document. 
Moreover, our witnesses were impartial, while those of our adversaries were manifestly prejudiced, venal. 
Their unproved assertions were indeeded, and after some attempts at a compromise the legacy was paid. 
Amongst the public the rumor spread that my client had succeeded in rising from his bed, and had enough strength to reach my house and assure himself the accomplishment of his last will. 
Years ran on before I was able to exchange words with the doctor who had attended Mr. Brownlow. I remembered perfectly that he had lent a too-ready hearing to the calumnies raised against me. He decided, however, to offer apologies, and he did it so completely that I ended by forgiving him. 
He then recounted to me a strange thing. 
According to all appearances Mr. Brownlow had died at half-past eleven at night. The doctor descended the stairs to announce the fatal news to the daughters and remained to console them in his best manner. 
Before leaving the house he returned to the death-chamber, to give a last look at the deceased. 
While he contemplated Mr. Brownlow's peaceful face, he saw his eyes suddenly open and the man whom he had pronounced dead, drew a long breath as if he had experienced a rest after long fatigue. Then the eyes closed again, there was a little spasm and this time Mr. Brownlow was really dead. 
" But," said the doctor, " I should have been ready to swear in any court that it was utterly impossible for that man to have moved hand or foot at the hour you gave for his visit." 
I thanked Heaven he had not been called to make that declaration. 
" The number of your witnesses was so crushing that I should have been ruined professionally. If one believed in the supernatural . . . ." 
Yes, if one believed in the supernatural, but, like the doctor, I do not believe in it. 
======
Category:Blondel
Category:Short-Stories