The Entail

CHAPTER XCIV

From the circumstance of Milrookit and Robina staying with the Leddy at the time of their marriage, the porter at the inn, where Pilledge alighted on his arrival at Glasgow, supposed they lived in her house, and conducted him there. But, on reaching the door, seeing the name of Mrs. Walkinshaw on a brass plate, not quite so large as the one that the Lord Provost of the royal city sported on the occasion of his Majesty’s most gracious visit to the lawful and intellectual metropolis of his ancient kingdom, he resolved to address himself to her, for what purpose it would not be easy to say, further than he thought, perhaps, from what he had heard of her character, that she might be of use in the projected litigation. Accordingly, he applied his hand to the knocker, and was shown into the room where she was sitting alone, spinning.

‘You are the lady,’ said he, ‘I presume, of the late much respected Mr. Claud Walkinshaw, commonly styled of Grippy.’

‘So they say, for want o’ a better,’ replied the Leddy, stopping at the same time her wheel and looking up to him; ‘but wha are ye, and what’s your will?’

‘My name is Pilledge. I am a writer to the signet, and I have come to see Mr. Milrookit of Kittlestonheugh, respecting an important piece of business;’ – and he seated himself unbidden. As he said this, the Leddy pricked up her ears, for, exulting in her own knowledge of the law, by which she had recently so triumphed, as she thought, she became eager to know what the important piece of business could be, and replied, —

‘Nae doot, it’s anent the law-plea he has been brought into, on account of his property.’

Milrookit had been engaged in no suit whatever, but this was the way she took to trot the Edinburgh writer, and she added, —

‘How do ye think it’ll gang wi’ him? Is there ony prospect o’ the Lord Ordinary coming to a decision on the pursuer’s petition?’

This really looked so like the language of the Parliament House, considering it came from an old lady, that Pilledge was taken in, and his thoughts running on the entail, he immediately fancied that she alluded to something connected with it, and said, —

‘I should think, Madam, that your evidence would be of the utmost importance to the case, and it was to advise with him chiefly as to the line of defence he ought to take that I came from Edinburgh.’

‘Nae doot, Sir, I could gie an evidence, and instruct on the merits of the interdict,’ said she learnedly; ‘but I ne’er hae yet been able to come to a right understanding anent and concerning the different aforesaids set forth in the respondent’s reclaiming petition. Noo, I would be greatly obligated if ye would expone to me the nice point, that I may be able to decern accordingly.’

The Writer to the Signet had never heard a clearer argument, either at the bar or on the bench, and he replied, —

‘Indeed, Mem, it lies in a very small compass. It appears that the heir-male of your eldest son is the rightful heir of entail; but there are so many difficulties in the terms of the settlement, that I should not be surprised were the Court to set the deed aside, in which case, Mrs. Milrookit would still retain the estate, as heir-at-law of her father.’

We must allow the reader to conceive with what feelings the Leddy heard this; but new and wonderful as it was felt to be, she still preserved her juridical gravity, and said, —

‘It’s vera true what ye say, Sir, that the heir-male of my eldest son, – is a son, – I can easily understand that point o’ law; – but can ye tell me how the heir-at-law of her father, Mrs. Milrookit that is, came to be a dochter, when it was ay the intent and purpose o’ my friend that’s awa, the testator, to make no provision but for heirs-male, which his heart, poor man, was overly set on. Howsever, I suppose that’s to be considered in the precognition!’

‘Certainly, Mem,’ replied the Writer to the Signet; ‘nothing is more clear than that your husband intended the estate to go, in the first instance, to the heirs-male of his sons; first to those of Walter, the second son; and failing them, to those of George, the third son; and failing them, then to go back to the heirs-male of Charles, the eldest son; and failing them, to the heirs-general of Margaret, your daughter. It is, therefore, perfectly clear, that Mrs. Milrookit being, as you justly observe, a daughter, the estate, according to the terms of the settlement, passes her, and goes to the heir of entail, who is the son of your eldest son.’

‘I understand that weel,’ said the Leddy; ‘it’s as plain as a pike-staff, that my oe Jamie, the soldier-officer, is by right the heir; and I dinna see how Walky Milrookit, or his wife Beenie, that is, according to law, Robina, can, by any decreet o’ Court, keep him out of his ain, – poor laddie!’

‘It is very natural for you, Mem, to say so; but the case has other points, and especially as the heir of entail is in the army, I certainly would not advise Mr. Milrookit to surrender.’

‘But he’ll be maybe counselled better,’ rejoined the Leddy, inwardly rejoicing at the discovery she had made, and anxious to get rid of the visitor, in order that she might act at once, ‘and if ye’ll tak my advice, ye’ll no sca’d your lips in other folks’ kail. Mr. Pitwinnoch is just as gude a Belzebub’s baby for a law-plea, as ony Writer to the Signet in that bottomless pit, the House o’ Parliament in Edinbrough; and since ye hae told me what ye hae done, it’s but right to let you ken what I’ll do. As yet I hae had but ae lawsuit, and I trow it was soon brought, by my own mediation, to a victory; but it winna be lang till I hae another; for if Milrookit does na consent, the morn’s morning, to gie up the Kittlestonheugh, he’ll soon fin’ again what it is to plea wi’ a woman o’ my experience.’

Pilledge was petrified; he saw that he was in the hands of the Leddy, and that she had completely overreached him. But still he was resolved that his journey should not be barren if he could possibly prevent it. He accordingly wished her good afternoon, and, returning to the inn, ordered a chaise, and proceeded to Kittlestonheugh.

The moment that he left the Leddy, her cloak and bonnet were put in requisition, and attended by her maid, on whose arm she leaned, being still lame with the rheumatism, she sallied forth to Pitwinnoch’s office, resolved on action.

He had not, however, acted on what she called her great Bed and Board plea entirely to her satisfaction; for she thought, had he seen the rights of her case as well as she did herself, and had counselled her better, she might have got much more than a thousand pounds. She was, therefore, determined, if he showed the least hesitation in obeying her ‘peremptors,’ that she would immediately proceed to Mr. Whitteret’s office, and appoint him her agent. How she happened to imagine that she had any right to institute proceedings against Milrookit, for the restoration of the estate to Walkinshaw, will be best understood by our narrative of what passed at the consultation.

CHAPTER XCV

‘It was a happy thing for me, Mr. Pitwinnoch,’ said the Leddy, after being seated in his inner chamber – ‘a happy thing, indeed, that I had a father, and sic a father as he was. Weel kent he the rights o’ the law; so that I may say I was brought up at the feet o’ Gamaliel. But the bed and board plea, Mr. Pitwinnoch, that ye thought sae lightly o’, and wanted me to mak a sacrifice o’ wi’ an arbitration, was bairn’s play to the case I hae noo in hand. Ye maun ken, then, that I hae ta’en a suspektion in my head, that Milrookit – the de’il rook him for what he did to me – has nae right because to keep, in a wrongous manner, my gudeman’s estate and property o’ the Kittlestonheugh. ’Deed, Mr. Pitwinnoch, ye may glower; but it’s my intent and purpose to gar him surrender at discretion, in due course of law. So he’ll see what it is to deal wi’ a woman o’ my legality. In short, Mr. Pitwinnoch, I’ll mak him fin’ that I’m a statute at large; for, as I said before, the thousand pounds was but erles, and a foretaste, that I hae been oure lang, Mr. Pitwinnoch, of going to law.’

‘You surprise me, Madam, – I cannot understand what you mean,’ replied the astonished lawyer.

‘Your surprise, and having no understanding, Mr. Pitwinnoch, is a symptom to me that ye’re no qualified to conduct my case; but, before going to Thomas Whitteret, who, as I am creditably informed, is a man o’ a most great capacity, I thought it was but right to sound the depth o’ your judgement and learning o’ the law; and if I found you o’ a proper sufficiency, to gie you a preferment, ’cause ye were my agent in the last plea.’

‘But, Madam,’ said the astonished lawyer, ‘how can you possibly have fancied that Mr. Milrookit has not, in right of his wife, properly succeeded to the estate?’

‘Because she’s no a male-heir – being in terms of the act – but a woman. What say ye to that? Is na that baith a nice point and a ground of action? Na, ye need na look sae constipated, Mr. Pitwinnoch, for the heirs-general o’ Margaret, the dochter, hae a better right than the heir-at-law o’ George, the third and last son, the same being an heir-female.’

‘In the name of goodness, where have you, Madam, collected all this stuff?’

‘Stuff! Mr. Pitwinnoch, is that the way to speak o’ my legality? Howsever, since ye’re sae dumfoundert, I’ll just be as plain’s am pleasant wi’ you. Stuff truly! I think Mr. Whitteret’s the man for me.’

‘I beg your pardon, Mrs. Walkinshaw; but I wish you would be a little more explicit, and come to the point.’

‘Have na I come to ae point already, anent the male-heir?’

‘True, Madam,’ said the lawyer; ‘but even, admitting all you have stated to be perfectly correct, Mr. Milrookit then has the right in himself, for you know it is to the heirs-general of his mother, and not to herself, that the property goes.’

‘Ye need na tell me that. Do you think I dinna ken that he’s an heir-general to his mother, being her only child? Ye mak light, I canna but say, o’ my understanding, Mr. Pitwinnoch. Howsever, is’t no plain that his wife, not being an heir-male, is debarred frae succeeding; and, he being an heir-general, cannot, according to the law of the case, succeed? Surely, Mr. Pitwinnoch, that’s no to be contested? Therefore, I maintain that he is lawfully bound to renounce the property, and that he shall do the morn’s morning if there’s a toun-officer in Glasgow.’

‘But, Madam, you have no possible right to it,’ exclaimed the lawyer, puzzled.

‘Me! am I a male-heir? an aged woman, and a grandmother! Surely, Mr. Pitwinnoch, your education maun hae been greatly neglekit, to ken so little o’ the laws o’ nature and nations. No: the heir-male is a young man, the eldest son’s only son.’

The lawyer began to quake for his client as the Leddy proceeded, —

‘For ye ken that the deed of entail was first on Walter, the second son; and, failing his heirs-male, then on George and his heirs-male; and, failing them, then it went back to Charles the eldest son, and to his heirs-male; if there’s law in the land, his only son ought to be an heir-male, afore Milrookit’s wife that’s but an only dochter.’

‘Has Mr. Whitteret put this into your head? – he was bred wi’ Keelevin, who drew up the deed,’ said the lawyer seriously, struck with the knowledge which the Leddy seemed to have so miraculously acquired of the provisions of the entail.

‘I dinna need Mr. Whitteret, nor ony siclike, to instruct me in terms o’ law – for I got an inkling and an instinct o’ the whole nine points frae my worthy father, that was himsel bred an advocate, and had more law-pleas on his hands when he died than ony ither three lairds in Carrick, Coil, and Cunningham. But no to be my own trumpeter – ye’ll just, Mr. Pitwinnoch, write a mandamus to Milrookit, in a civil manner – mind that; and tell him in the same, that I’ll be greatly obligated if he’ll gie up the house and property of Kittlestonheugh to the heir-male, James Walkinshaw, his cousin; or, failing therein, ye’ll say that I hae implemented you to pronounce an interlocutor against him; and ye may gie him a bit hint frae yoursel – in a noty beny at the bottom – that you advise him to conform, because you are creditably informed that I mean to pursue him wi’ a’ the law o’ my displeasure.’

‘Does your grandson know any thing of this extraordinary business?’ said Pitwinnoch; but the Leddy parried the question by saying, —

‘That’s no our present sederunt; but I would ask you, if ye do not think I hae the justice o’ this plea?’

‘Indeed, Madam, to say the truth, I shall not be surprised if you have; but there is no need to be so peremptory – the business may be as well settled by an amicable arrangement.’

‘What’s the use of an amicable arrangement? Is na the law the law? Surely I did na come to a lawyer for sic dowf and dowie proceedings as amicable arrangements – no, Mr. Pitwinnoch, ye see yoursel that I hae decern’t on the rights o’ the case, and therefore (for I maun be short wi’ you, for talking to me o’ amicable arrangements) ye may save your breath to cool your porridge; my will and pleasure is, that Walkinshaw Milrookit shall do to-morrow morning – in manner of law – then and there – dispone and surrender unto the heir-male of the late Claud Walkinshaw of Kittlestonheugh, in the shire o’ Lanark, and synod of Glasgow and Ayr – all and sundry the houses and lands aforesaid, according to the provisions of an act made and passed in the reign of our Sovereign Lord the King. Ye see, Mr. Pitwinnoch, that I’m no a daw in barrow’t feathers, to be picket and pooket in the way I was by sic trash as the Milrookits.’

The Leddy, having thus instructed her lawyer, bade him adieu, and returned home, leaning on her maid’s arm, and on the best possible terms with herself, scarcely for a moment doubting a favourable result to a proceeding that in courtesy we must call her second law-suit.

CHAPTER XCVI

The shipwreck of the third Laird had left an awful impression on the minds of all the Glengael party, who, immediately after that disaster, returned to the castle. To Mrs. Eadie it afforded the strongest confirmation that she had inherited the inspiring mantle of her maternal race; and her dreams and visions, which happily for herself were of the most encouraging augury, became more and more frequent, and her language increased in mystery and metaphor.

‘Death,’ said she, ‘has performed his task – the winds of heaven and the ocean waves have obeyed the mandate, and the moon has verified her influence on the destinies of men. But the volume, with the brazen clasps, has not yet been opened – the chronicled wisdom of ages has not yet been unfolded – Antiquity and Learning are still silent in their niches, and their faces veiled.’

It was of no avail to argue with her, even in her soberest moods, against the fatal consequences of yielding so entirely to the somnambulism of her malady. Her friends listened to her with a solemn compassion, and only hoped that, in the course of the summer, some improvement might take place in her health, and allay that extreme occasional excitement of her nervous system which produced such mournful effects on a mind of rare and splendid endowments. In the hopes of this favourable change, it was agreed, when Mr. Frazer was called to Edinburgh on professional business, as we have already mentioned, that the family should, on her account, remain till late in the year at Glengael.

Meanwhile Walkinshaw and French Frazer were proceeding with their recruiting; and it was soon evident to the whole party that the latter had attached himself in a particular manner to Mary. Mrs. Eadie, if not the first who observed it, was the first who spoke of it; but, instead of using that sort of strain which ladies of a certain age commonly employ on such affairs, she boded of bridal banquets in the loftiest poetry of her prophetical phraseology. The fortunes of Walkinshaw and Ellen were lost sight of in the mystical presages of this new theme, till the letters arrived from Mr. Frazer, announcing the discovery of the provisions in the deed of entail, and requesting his young friend to come immediately to Edinburgh. ‘The clasped book of antiquity,’ said Mrs. Eadie, ‘is now open. Who shall dispute the oracles of fate?’

But with all the perspicuity of her second sight, she saw nothing of what was passing at Kittlestonheugh on the same afternoon in which these letters reached the castle.

Mr. Pilledge, it will be recollected, immediately after his interview with the Leddy, proceeded in a post-chaise to see Milrookit; and, as he was not embarrassed with much professional diffidence, the purpose of his visit was soon explained. The consternation with which Walky heard of the discovery will be easier imagined than described; but something like a ray of hope and pleasure glimmered in the prospect that Pilledge held out of being able either to break the entail, or to procrastinate the contest to an indefinite period at an expence of less than half the rental of the property.

While they were thus engaged in discussing the subject, and Milrookit was entering as cordially into the views of the Edinburgh writer, as could on so short a notice be reasonably expected, Mr. Pitwinnoch was announced. The instinct of birds of a feather, as the proverb says, had often before brought him into contact with Pilledge, and a few words of explanation enabled the triumvirate to understand the feelings of each other thoroughly.

‘But,’ said Pitwinnoch, ‘I am instructed to take immediate steps, to establish the rights of the heir of entail.’

‘So much the better,’ replied Pilledge; ‘the business could not be in abler hands. You can act for your client in the most satisfactory manner, and as Mr. Milrookit will authorize me to proceed for him, it will be hard if we cannot make a tough pull.’

Mr. Pitwinnoch thought so too, and then amused them with a laughable account of the instructions he had received from the Leddy, to demand the surrender of the estate, and the acknowledgment of the heir, in the course of the following day. Pilledge, in like manner, recounted, in his dry and pawkie style, the interview which he had himself with the same ingenious and redoubtable matron; and that nothing might be wanting to the enjoyment of their jokes and funny recitals, Milrookit ordered in wine, and they were all as jocose as possible, when the servant brought a letter – it was from Mr. Whitteret, written at the suggestion of Mr. Frazer, to whom he had, immediately after parting from Pilledge in the Register Office, communicated the discovery. It simply announced, that steps were taken to serve Walkinshaw heir to the estate, and suggested on account of the relationship of the parties, that it might be as well to obviate, by an admission of the claim, the necessity of any exposure, or of the institution of unpleasant proceedings, for the fraud that had been practised.

Milrookit trembled as he read, – Pitwinnoch looked aghast, for he perceived that his own conduct in the transaction might be sifted; and Pilledge, foreseeing there would be no use for him, quietly took his hat and slipped away, leaving them to their own meditations.

‘This is a dreadful calamity,’ were the first words that Milrookit uttered, after a silence of several minutes.

‘It is a most unlucky discovery,’ said Pitwinnoch.

‘And this threat of exposure,’ responded his client.

‘And my character brought into peril!’ exclaimed the lawyer.

‘Had you not rashly advised me,’ said Milrookit, ‘I should never for a moment have thought of retaining the property.’

‘Both your father and yourself, Sir,’ retorted the lawyer, ‘thought if it could be done, it ought; I but did my duty as your lawyer, in recommending what you so evidently wished.’

‘That is not the fact, Sir,’ replied Milrookit, sharply, and the conversation proceeded to become more abrupt and vehement, till the anger of high words assumed the form of action, and the lawyer and his client rushed like two bull-dogs on each other. At that crisis, the door was suddenly opened, and the old Leddy looking in, said, —

‘Shake him weel, Mr. Pitwinnoch, and if he’ll no conform, I redde ye gar him conform.’

The rage of the combatants was instantly extinguished, and they stood pale and confounded, trembling in every limb.

It had happened, after the Leddy returned home from Pitwinnoch’s, that Robina called, in the carriage, to effect, if possible, a reconciliation with her, which, for reasons we need not mention, her husband had engaged her that afternoon to do, and she had, in consequence, brought her, in the spirit of friendship, as she imagined, out to Kittlestonheugh. The Leddy, however, prided herself on being almost as dexterous a diplomatician as she was learned in the law, and she affected to receive her grand-daughter in the spirit of a total oblivion of all injuries.

‘Ye ken, Beenie, my dear,’ said she, ‘that I’m an aged person, and for a’ the few and evil days I hae before me in this howling wilderness, it’s vera natural that I should like to make a conciliation wi’ my grandchilder, who, I hope, will a’ live in comfort wi’ one another – every one getting his own right, for it’s a sore thing to go to law, although I hae some reason to know that there are folks in our family that ken mair o’ the nine points than they let wit – so I’m cordial glad to see you, Beenie, and I take it so kind, that if ye’ll gie me a hurl in the carriage, and send me hame at night, I’ll no object to gang wi’ you and speer for your gudeman, for whom I hae a’ manner o’ respek, even though he was a thought unreasonable anent my charge o’ moderation for the bed and board.’

But the truth is, that the Leddy, from the moment Robina entered the room, was seized with the thirst of curiosity to know how Milrookit would receive the claim, and had, in this eccentric manner, contrived to get herself taken to the scene of action.

CHAPTER XCVII

Recalled to their senses by the interruption, both Milrookit and his lawyer saw that their interests and characters were too intimately linked in the consequences of the discovery to allow them to incur the hazards of a public disclosure. Pitwinnoch was the first who recovered his presence of mind, and, with great cleverness, he suddenly turned round, and addressed himself to the Leddy: —

‘Though we have had a few words, Mr. Milrookit is quite sensible that he has not a shadow of reason to withhold the estate from the heir of entail. He will give it up the moment that it is demanded.’

‘Then I demand it this moment,’ exclaimed the Leddy; ‘and out of this house, that was my ain, I’ll no depart till Jamie Walkinshaw, the righteous male-heir, comes to tak possession. It was a most jewdical habit and repute like action o’ you, Walky Milrookit, to reset and keep this fine property on a point of law; and I canna see how ye’ll clear your character o’ the coom ye hae brought on’t by sic a diminishment of the grounds of the case between an heir-male and an heir-female.’