Sawn Off: A Tale of a Family Tree. Fenn George Manville
coming back in obedience to the signals the Doctor made, and standing once more in the room.
“Look here, sir, you had better have that money: you’ll want it over yonder.”
“Did you call me back for that, sir?” said the young man bitterly – “to go through this agony again? No: I will make the money I want myself.”
“Bravo!” cried the Doctor, seizing his hand. “But you sha’n’t go!”
Denis stared.
“Do you think I am going to have my little pet here die of a broken heart, for the sake of you, you ugly young scoundrel? No! you sha’n’t go. Here: you stop and comfort Very, and I’ll go over to the Manor and bring my Lord Pinemount to his knees.”
“Doctor Salado!” cried Denis excitedly. “No, no: it is impossible. You must not go. You would be insulted.”
“Then I’ll insult him. Here, Very, my pretty: I’m not to let this boy go, am I?”
For answer the girl flung herself upon Denis’ breast, and clung there sobbing.
“This – this is too hard, sir!” cried Denis passionately.
“I am only man, after all.”
“Well, what do you want to be, boy? There, I don’t like you, and I don’t like your father; but I’m not going to let that stand in the way. I’m going over to the Manor to bring my lord to his knees.”
“You don’t know what you are saying,” cried Denis. “Veronica, he must not go.”
“I do know what I’m saying. Am I not Doctor Salado – a moral magician in my way? Did I not make him give up cutting down the trees?”
“Yes, sir; but you cannot make him retract from driving me off the family tree for a time,” said Denis, with a sad smile. “I am only a beggar now, and I must go.”
“Indeed you will not. And as for being a beggar, Very here will have plenty for you both.”
“Which I could not take.”
“Then, confound you, sir!” cried the Doctor, with mock fury, “I’ll bring an action against you for breach of promise of marriage. There, pet, don’t cry: you shall have your pretty boy.”
“Doctor Salado, you must not go. You don’t know my father.”
“Thoroughly, my lad. There – take heart, both of you. Denis, my lad, you sha’n’t be a pensioner on my bounty. Come, I’ll bet you five pounds that your father and mother dine here with us to-night, and talk to my Very here as if she were their child, as she has to be.”
“Doctor Salado, are you mad?”
“Yes, my lad. I have been all my life, but I’m not at all dangerous. God bless you, my lad! I believe in you, and when I come back you’ll believe in me.”
Volume One – Chapter Eight.
Doctor Salado’s Magic
“Take the good the gods provide you,” seemed to be Denis Rolleston’s motto, for he was very happy with Veronica, while the Doctor made off across the park, gave the bell at the open door a tremendous tug, and then waited till a serious-looking butler came to the front.
“Tell his lordship I want to see him directly.”
“Not at home, sir,” said the man stolidly.
“Tell his lordship I want to see him directly,” cried the Doctor sternly. “He’s in the library: I heard his laugh as I came up to the house.”
“But – ”
“Stand aside, fellow!” cried the Doctor; and he marched in, flung open the library door, and shut it sharply, as Lord Pinemount rose from his chair pale with rage.
“Morning,” said the Doctor. “Sit down. I want a chat with you.”
He took a seat coolly, and looked critically at the angry man before him, who was breathless with passion.
“How dare you!” he said at last – “how dare you force your presence here! Go, sir, before I send for the police.”
“Don’t make a fool of yourself, sir: sit down. You must know that the business is important, or I should not act like this.”
“You are a madman, sir!”
“Yes, perhaps: sit down.”
There was such a tone of authority in the Doctor’s words that his lordship dropped back in his chair wondering at his own action.
“That’s better. Now then, Pinemount, let’s look the state of affairs in the face. Your boy loves my child.”
“I have no son, sir. I have cut him off.”
“Humph! All talk, sir. Can’t be done. He loves my girl, and she loves him. He is up at my house now; and after I have talked to you I want you to bring her ladyship over to the young people, and make things comfortable.”
“Yes, you are mad,” said his lordship, reassuring himself. “How dare you presume like this! Leave my house, sir!”
“Don’t raise your voice, man, and let all the servants know you are in a passion.”
“The insolence – the presumption! Look here, sir: if you are not mad, who and what are you, that you dare to come and make such a proposition to me?”
“Ah!” said the Doctor, as Lady Pinemount entered, looking anxiously from one to the other, while the visitor advanced to meet her, took her hand, kissed it with courtly grace, and led her to a chair.
“I repeat, sir, who and what are you, that you presume to come and sow dissension in my peaceful village – heartburnings in my home? Who are you?”
“Your cousin Richard, who died abroad.”
“What!” roared his lordship. “Impostor, you lie!”
“No, sir: you are the impostor, or rather usurper. I grieve to say, madam – Mrs Rolleston – that I am Lord Pinemount, and that your husband has no right whatever here.”
“I – ”
“Silence, sir!” said Lord Pinemount, with dignity. “Accept the position, and hear what I have to say.”
“Is this true, sir?” faltered the lady.
“You will know if you listen, madam. Nay, you both must know, by the inquiries that were made before your husband succeeded to the title and estates. I saw all the papers with the advertisements; but I was happy, was rich, and detested England for an old association, and I preferred to remain dead to all who had known me. When at last I did return to England, for my child’s sake – a widower – I came down here. The Sandleighs was for sale, and I bought it.”
There was something like a groan here, and the lady gazed wildly at her husband.
“Of course I thought of claiming the title; but I met you and your son, and I said to myself, ‘Why should I make his family wretched?’ Then, as you know, while I was in doubt, Love came and cleared away the difficulty and decided me. If I had claimed the title it would have been for Veronica’s sake. Well, Denis loves her; and in due time – a long time hence, if your husband will study his health and not cut his life short by passion and apoplexy – Denis will be My Lord, – my child My Lady. That is enough for me. I am contented to be the Doctor and go on as the naturalist still.”
“But – but – ” faltered the lady. “My husband – Mr Rolleston, if what you say is true – ”
“He knows it is true. But not Mr Rolleston, – Lord Pinemount still. Madam, I tell you I am very rich, and my wants are very few. The title is nothing to me. Yes, it is – it is my one secret. There, Pinemount, am I an impostor now?”
“I am stunned,” faltered the bearer of the title.
“Bah! that will soon go off. Lady Pinemount, our esteem, I am sure, is mutual, and I believe