"Now,"
observed my father, in his letter, "I cannot help surmising, that my
brother, in his anxiety to retain the advantages of the title to his own
family, has resolved to produce to the world a spurious child as his
own, by some contrivance or other. His wife's health is very bad, and
she is not likely to have a large family. Should the one now expected
prove a daughter, there is little chance of his ever having another; and
I have no hesitation in declaring my conviction that the measure has
been taken with a view of defrauding you of your chance of eventually
being called to the House of Lords."
I showed this letter to O'Brien, who, after reading it over two or three
times, gave his opinion that my father was right in his conjectures
"Depend upon it, Peter, there's foul play intended, that is, if foul
play is rendered necessary."
"But, O'Brien, I cannot imagine why, if my uncle has no son of his own,
he should prefer acknowledging a son of any other person's, instead of
his own nephew."
"But I can, Peter: your uncle is not a man likely to live very long, as
you know. The doctors say that, with his short neck, his life is not
worth two years' purchase. Now if he had a son, consider that his
daughters would be much better off, and much more likely to get married;
besides, there are many reasons which I won't talk about now, because
it's no use making you think your uncle to be a scoundrel. But I'll tell
you what I'll do. I'll go down to my cabin directly, and write to Father
M'Grath, telling him the whole affair, and desiring him to ferret him
out, and watch him narrowly, and I'll bet you a dozen of claret, that in
less than a week he'll find him out, and will dog him to the last.
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