“But such a step as you contemplate is so flagrant a violation of the spirit and purport of Mr. Hogarth’s will—­for, right or wrong, he never meant Jane Melville to be mistress of Cross Hall—­that we must claim our just rights.  This confession, given with the hope of extorting money from the supposed heirs of Mr. Hogarth, is worthless, particularly considering the character of the person who makes it.  I think you have no case whatever:  do not you agree with me?” said the director of the Deaf and Dumb Asylum—­one who took the greatest possible interest in the working and the prosperity of that charity, the funds of which were rather at a low ebb at this time.  “We cannot be supposed to be actuated by selfish motives; we are perfectly disinterested trustees for great public interests; but if property is left to these institutions, we would be wanting in our duty if we did not claim it.”

The other four directors took the same view of the case.  None of them would agree to leave Francis unmolested, if he took the step he meditated.

“But you observe,” said Francis, “that this will has been the cause of great injustice.  In the first place, Mr. Hogarth’s two nieces had been brought up as his heirs, and they were left to struggle with difficulties and hardships which were harder and more severe than any man has to go through—­and for which the education their uncle had given them had not made them more fitted.  In the second place, he left the property to me as supposing me to be his son.  If this confession is true, I am not his son; but if I marry the woman who in that case is not my cousin, you will not allow me to keep the estate for her, so I am forced to——­”

“Stop, Mr. Hogarth,” said Mr. MacFarlane, eagerly.

“I am forced to make a deed of gift to each of you, as I am really in possession of the estate.  I save you all the expense and trouble of litigation, and I have to begin the world again at far greater disadvantage than when I was taken from my bank-desk and my 250 pounds a year two years ago.  I have acquired expensive habits; I am two years older, and I shall have a wife and probably a family to maintain.”

“There is a great deal of truth in what you say,” said the director of the Institution, for the sub-matronship of which Jane Melville had applied in vain.  The other four were speechless with astonishment at the extraordinary proposition which Francis made to them.  “Litigation is long and expensive.  I may say, for my body of directors, that we would be very happy to give some consideration for the very handsome, the very generous, offer you make to us.  It is not right to marry without being a little beforehand with the world; and it would be very unfair to accept of all you gained by the will without making a little compensation for what you have lost.  Any personal property, books, and furniture, that you would like to keep, to the value of 200 pounds, or thereabouts, and a sum of 400 pounds from each of us, I think would be fair, to give you a start in a new country.  I believe Miss Melville is a very deserving lady.  If it had not been for her youth we should have had her with us.  I hope my friends here will agree with me that this is reasonable and just.”