Uncle Bernac by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle — Read

I dare say that I had already read my uncle's letter a hundred times, / and I am sure that I knew it by heart. None the less I took it out of / my pocket, and, sitting on the side of the lugger, I went over it again / with as much attention as if it were for the first time. It was written / in a prim, angular hand, such as one might expect from a man who had / begun life as a village attorney, and it was addressed to Louis de / Laval, to the care of William Hargreaves, of the Green Man in Ashford, / Kent. The landlord had many a hogshead of untaxed French brandy from / the Normandy coast, and the letter had found its way by the same hands.

'My dear nephew Louis,' said the letter, 'now that your father is dead, / and that you are alone in the world, I am sure that you will not wish to / carry on the feud which has existed between the two halves of the / family. At the time of the troubles your father was drawn towards the / side of the King, and I towards that of the people, and it ended, as you / know, by his having to fly from the country, and by my becoming the / possessor of the estates of Grosbois. No doubt it is very hard that you / should find yourself in a different position to your ancestors, but I am / sure that you would rather that the land should be held by a Bernac than / by a stranger. From the brother of your mother you will at least always / meet with sympathy and consideration.