The Allen House; Or, Twenty Years Ago and Now

“That is the woman,” Constance replied.

Delia clutched her hands so tightly that her arms quivered, and grew rigid; while her pale face darkened with an expression so like revenge, that Constance felt a shudder of fear in her heart.

“If my prayers for her are answered,” said the excited woman, speaking through her closing teeth, “she will find that day the darkest in the calendar of her life, when she stepped between me and my husband. I have only curses for her in my heart. Only curses!”

Constance, startled, and almost frightened by this wild burst of feeling, endeavored to soothe her; but the storm was too fierce to own the power of her gentle persuasions, and raged on for its brief season.

“I thought her mind had given way,” said my wife, on relating what she had seen and heard. “It was fearful to look upon a human creature so terribly moved.”

“The trial to her feelings must have been very.... [Gap in original]

“But I thought the severe discipline through which she had passed, had chastened and subdued her,” answered Constance. “I saw, or believed that I saw, the beginnings of a new and true life in her soul. But over all this, passion has swept with its besom of destruction.”

“The better states,” I replied, “may not have been destroyed in this evil whirlwind. Such states, when once formed, usually retire and hide themselves until the storm has spent its fury.”

“I pray that it may be so in this case,” said Constance. “But from what I saw to-day, my fears are on the other side.”

In the mean time we were taking such steps as the responsibility of our position required, towards getting possession of the property, which, under the will of Captain Allen, must come into our hands. My co-executor, Mr. James Wilkinson, a merchant of S–, was for adopting the most summary proceedings. He was annoyed at the questions, doubts, and delays which Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd permitted to intervene; and more especially by the intermeddling of Dewey, towards whom, from some cause, he entertained hostile feeling.

As a matter of course, we were guided in all our movements by Mr. Wallingford. At the earliest term of court, we brought forward the claim of Mrs. Wallingford, under the last will and testament of her uncle. A feeble effort was made to throw doubt upon the genuineness of the document; but the oath of the witnesses to the signature of Captain Allen settled the question beyond the reach of cavil, and the executors under the first will were ordered to transfer, by a certain date, all property belonging to the estate into our hands.

I saw plainly enough, from the beginning, that the idea of giving an account of their stewardship was not an agreeable one to either of the executors under the old will. The direction which the property must take was one that would not admit of any holding back or covering up on their part. They would be required to exhibit clean hands.

The property clearly shown as having passed into their possession, was the old mansion and valuable grounds, which had been sold, under an order of the court, at a heavy sacrifice—bringing only thirty-five thousand dollars, instead of sixty thousand, its real value—and the proceeds re-invested. Then there was other town property worth twenty thousand dollars, and stocks valued at as much more: making seventy-five thousand dollars in all as the principal. Interest added, would swell the sum for which they must give account to over one hundred thousand dollars.

It was found, on looking into the business, that the whole of this immense sum was invested in the cotton mills. The search made into the legal condition of these mill properties was not satisfactory. There were several mortgages against them, one of which, for twenty-five thousand dollars, was held by the Clinton Bank as collateral security for loans.

After various delays and failures on the part of the old executors to meet us in a satisfactory manner, we all assembled, by appointment, in the office of Judge Bigelow. Mr. Dewey I was surprised to find present. But it was plain that he was there either by the consent or request of the Judge and Squire. The court had given a certain time for the executors under the first will to make up their accounts, and hand over the property in trust. That time had expired.

There was manifest embarrassment on the part of Judge Bigelow and his associate; while Dewey looked stern and dogged. We soon got into the centre of the business, and found it pretty earnest work. It was admitted by the executors that the greater portion of the estate was in the cotton mills. How to get it out was the question.

“I had always understood,” said Mr. Wallingford, “that the mills were chiefly owned in New York.”

“The New York interest is large,” replied Squire Floyd, in a husky voice.

“And can be increased, no doubt, to almost any extent, in order to enable you to withdraw the trust investments,” resumed Mr. Wallingford.

“Why cannot you let it remain where it is for the present? The investment is safe and the interest sure,” said Judge Bigelow.

“There isn’t safer security in the state,” spoke up Mr. Dewey, with animation.

“It isn’t the kind of security we wish to hold,” said Mr. Wilkinson firmly. “We have given heavy bonds, and prefer to get the property in a different shape.”

Here followed a chilling silence, which was broken by Mr. Wallingford.

“There is one way in which this can be arranged,” said he.

All eyes were turned upon him.

“If it is not convenient to transfer to new parties interests of such magnitude, we will take, at a fair valuation, the Allen House and grounds appertaining thereto, including the mill site.”

Mr. Dewey was on his feet in a moment, and said—

“Never!” with considerable excitement of manner.

Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd looked at each other in a bewildered manner, and then at Mr. Dewey, who was walking the floor with many signs of disturbance.

“This is the family property,” continued Mr. Wallingford, coolly—“and ought never to have been sold. It is but fair that it should come back.”

“It can’t go back,” spoke up Mr. Dewey. “The present owners will not let it pass out of their hands.”

“If that is the case,” said Mr. Wallingford, “we shall have to look in another direction. It occurred to me that this might suit all parties, and lead to an easy arrangement. But if that cannot be—if the present owners, to use Mr. Dewey’s words, will not let it go back—then my suggestion falls to the ground, and we must look to the investments as they stand. We do not press the matter.”

I observed Mr. Dewey closely; the amount of feeling he displayed having drawn my attention upon him. Once or twice I saw him dart malignant glances towards Mr. Wallingford. And so, by degrees, I began to have a glimpse of what was passing in his mind. To go out from that elegant home, and let Wallingford succeed him as the owner, was something to which his proud heart could not submit—Wallingford, the once despised and contemned student of his uncle! That was too bitter a humiliation.

As nothing could then be decided, another meeting, to take place in three or four days, was agreed upon, and we separated.

CHAPTER XXVI

As my profession kept me going about all the while, I had opportunities for observing the movements of other people. The day following the meeting referred to in the last chapter, I saw Dewey, the Judge, and the Squire together several times, and always in earnest talk. As I came home, towards evening, I saw them all entering Mr. Dewey’s residence. It was plain that there was trouble in the camp.

On the next day, Mr. Dewey left town. I noticed him going into a car at the depot. When the time came for our meeting, a postponement was asked for. I felt like demurring, but Mr. Wallingford readily consented.

“Give them a little more time,” said he, as we walked away from Judge Bigelow’s office. “It will come out as we desired. The easiest way for them to arrange with us, is to let us have the Allen House property, which is owned by the firm of which Dewey is a member; and it is with a view to this, I have no doubt, that he is now in New York.”

So we waited a few days longer. The return of Mr. Dewey took place in the course of a week, when I received a note from Judge Bigelow, asking a private interview. I found him and his nephew alone. They received me in a pleasant, affable way; and the Judge said that he wished to have a little talk with me before another formal meeting of the executors. I answered that it would give me pleasure to confer with him; though I could neither accept nor propose any thing, standing alone.

“It is not with a view to that, Doctor,” replied the Judge, his countenance putting on a shade of gravity that nearly obliterated the smiles with which he at first received me. “But I thought it might help to a better issue, if two of the parties representing the opposite interests in this case were to have a little informal conversation.”

“I am ready to hear any thing you have to say, Judge, and shall be very happy if I can aid, in any thing, the satisfactory adjustment of these matters.” My answer, I thought, appeared to give him confidence, and he said—

“Without doubt you can aid, Doctor. The position in which Squire Floyd and myself find ourselves placed, is one of some embarrassment. In making investments of the property which came into our hands, we had reference, of course, to its security and productiveness; at the same time looking to a period, still some years in advance, when our trust would cease, and the property pass in due course to the heir-at-law. To realize on these investments now, would be to damage the interests of others; and I cannot feel that it would be right for you to urge this. The discovery of a new will, bearing a later date, is a thing wholly unexpected. We had no warning to prepare for the summary action growing out of its appearance, and, as I have just intimated, cannot proceed without injury to others.”

“I do not believe,” said Mr. Dewey, “that the court, if the case was fairly stated, would require this speedy settlement of the trust. And it is my advice, that the whole matter be referred back for a new award as to time. A year longer should be conceded to the executors under the old will.”

“That would be equitable,” said the Judge.

“I am afraid,” I made answer to this, “that Mr. Wallingford will not consent to any postponement.”

“He won’t? The hound!” I was startled by the fierceness of Dewey’s tone of voice, and, turning to look at him, saw on his countenance an expression of malignant hatred.

“Ralph!” said Judge Bigelow, in a warning voice.

“I can’t repress my indignation,” answered the nephew. “What demons from the nether hell have conspired to give him power over us? If it had been any other man in the world I could have borne it patiently.”

“Ralph! Ralph!” interposed the Judge, in a deprecating voice.

“It is no use, uncle. I cannot keep down my feeling,” was replied. “To see you hunted by this hound, who owes you everything.”