The Broad Highway | Page 3

passed either at
school or the university, but I have frequently heard mention of him,
nevertheless."
"Egad!" cried Sir Richard, "who hasn't heard of Buck Vibart--beat Ted
Jarraway of Swansea in five rounds--drove coach and four down
Whitehall--on sidewalk--ran away with a French marquise while but a
boy of twenty, and shot her husband into the bargain. Devilish
celebrated figure in 'sporting circles,' friend of the Prince Regent--"
"So I understand," said I.
"Altogether as complete a young blackguard as ever swaggered down
St. James's." Having said which, Sir Richard crossed his legs and
inhaled a pinch of snuff.
"Twenty thousand pounds is a very handsome sum," remarked Mr.
Grainger ponderously and as though more with the intention of saying
something rather than remain silent just then.
"Indeed it is," said I, "and might help a man to the devil as comfortably
as need be, but--"
"Though," pursued Mr. Grainger, "much below his expectations and
sadly inadequate to his present needs, I fear."
"That is most unfortunate," said I, "but--"
"His debts," said Mr. Grainger, busy at his spectacles again, "his debts
are very heavy, I believe."
"Then doubtless some arrangement can be made to--but continue your
reading, I beg," said I.
Mr. Grainger repeated his short, dry cough and taking up the will,
slowly and almost as though unwillingly, cleared his throat and began

as follows:
"'Furthermore, to my nephew, Peter Vibart, cousin to the above, I will
and bequeath my blessing and the sum of ten guineas in cash,
wherewith to purchase a copy of Zeno or any other of the stoic
philosophers he may prefer.'"
Again Mr. Grainger laid down the will, and again he regarded me over
the rim of his spectacles.
"Good God!" cried Sir Richard, leaping to his feet, "the man must have
been mad. Ten guineas--why, it's an insult--damme!--it's an
insult--you'll never take it of course, Peter."
"On the contrary, sir," said I.
"But--ten guineas!" bellowed the baronet; "on my soul now, George
was a cold-blooded fish, but I didn't think even he was capable of such
a despicable trick--no--curse me if I did! Why, it would have been
kinder to have left you nothing at all--but it was like George--bitter to
the end--ten guineas!"
"Is ten guineas," said I, "and when one comes to think of it, much may
be done with ten guineas."
Sir Richard grew purple in the face, but before he could speak, Mr.
Grainger began to read again:
"'Moreover, the sum of five hundred thousand pounds, now vested in
the funds, shall be paid to either Maurice or Peter Vibart aforesaid, if
either shall, within one calendar year, become the husband of the Lady
Sophia Sefton of Cambourne.'"
"Good God!" exclaimed Sir Richard.
"'Failing which,'" read Mr. Grainger, "'the said sum, namely, five
hundred thousand pounds, shall be bestowed upon such charity or
charities as the trustees shall select. Signed by me, this tenth day of

April, eighteen hundred and--, GEORGE VIBRART. Duly witnessed
by ADAM PENFLEET, MARTHA TRENT."'
Here Mr. Grainger's voice stopped, and I remember, in the silence that
followed, the parchment crackled very loudly as he folded it precisely
and laid it on the table before him. I remember also that Sir Richard
was swearing vehemently under his breath as he paced to and fro
between me and the window.
"And that is all?" I inquired at last.
"That," said Mr. Grainger, not looking at me now, "is all."
"The Lady Sophia," murmured Sir Richard as if to "himself, "the Lady
Sophia!" And then, stopping suddenly before me in his walk, "Oh,
Peter!" said he, clapping his hand down upon my shoulder, "oh, Peter,
that settles it; you're done for, boy--a crueller will was never made."
"Marriage!" said I to myself. "Hum!"
"A damnable iniquity," exclaimed Sir Richard, striding up and down
the room again.
"The Lady Sophia Sefton of Cambourne!" said I, rubbing my chin.
"Why, that's just it," roared the baronet; "she's a reigning toast--most
famous beauty in the country, London's mad over her--she can pick and
choose from all the finest gentlemen in England. Oh, it's 'good-by' to all
your hopes of the inheritance, Peter, and that's the devil of it."
"Sir, I fail to see your argument," said I.
"What?" cried Sir Richard, facing round on me, "d'you think you'd have
a chance with her then?"
"Why not?"
"Without friends, position, of money? Pish, boy! don't I tell you that
every buck and dandy--every mincing macaroni in the three kingdoms

would give his very legs to marry her--either for her beauty or her
fortune?" spluttered the baronet. "And let me inform you further that
she's devilish high and haughty with it all--they do say she even
rebuffed the Prince Regent himself."
"But then, sir, I consider myself a better man than the Prince Regent,"