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diff --git a/43318-8.txt b/43318-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5b88ef4..0000000 --- a/43318-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5567 +0,0 @@ - TARNISHED SILVER - - - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: Tarnished Silver -Author: Mary Frances Outram -Release Date: July 26, 2013 [EBook #43318] -Language: English -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TARNISHED SILVER *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover art] - - - - - *TARNISHED SILVER* - - - By - - MARY FRANCES OUTRAM - - Author of - "The Story of a Log-house," - "The Mystery of the Ash Tree," etc - - - - ILLUSTRATED BY STANLEY L. WOOD - - - - LONDON - THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY - Bouverie Street and 65 St. Paul's Churchyard - 1914 - - - - - "_The eyes of the Lord are in every place,_ - _beholding the evil and the good._" - - - - - *CONTENTS* - -CHAPTER - -I Mr. Field Lays Down the Law -II Forbidden Fruit -III Judge Simmons -IV Timothy's Three Friends -V A Thief in the Night -VI That Terrible Eye -VII The Mysterious Packets -VIII Robin Hood's Lair -IX The Tramp -X A Flash of Lightning -XI The Treacherous Shore -XII Death and the Tide -XIII Near Death's Door -XIV Pin-pricks and Pellets -XV Alive from the Dead -XVI For Conscience' Sake -XVII Well-founded Fears -XVIII Judge Simmons Again -XIX Revelations -XX Good Hope - - - - - *TARNISHED SILVER* - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *Mr. Field Lays Down the Law* - - -In the breakfast-room of a large house near the seacoast Mr. Thomas -Algernon Field sat eating a plain boiled egg. - -It was a long time since he had tasted such a rarity, and he was -enjoying it to the full. - -Not that eggs were scarce in his establishment, but it was seldom that -they found their way to his table in so simple a form. The Earl of -Monfort, the owner of the adjoining estate, regularly ate a boiled egg -every morning of his life--three hundred and sixty-five in the year, and -one more in leap year, so he made his boast--but to Mr. Thomas Algernon -Field this would have been sheer folly and waste. - -Mr. Field had a French cook--a French cook whose salary far exceeded -that of many a hard-worked clerk; and of what use was such an expensive -treasure unless to turn out elaborate and costly menus? So to the -detriment of his digestion, but with a brave effort to keep up the -honour of his table, the master of the house wrestled daily with -complicated dishes burdened with high-sounding names, though often -longing secretly in his heart of hearts for plainer and more wholesome -fare. - -The room in which he sat was a fine one, with long windows opening on to -a wide terrace with heavy stone balustrades, over and through which -masses of roses climbed in graceful luxuriance of spray and bloom. -Beyond lay yet another terrace, wider and larger than the first, with -beds gay with many-coloured flowers, set in the greenest of velvet turf. -A belt of trees bounded the further side of the lower platform, their -topmost branches were bent sideways and shorn by the prevailing winds, -while in the distance stretched the straight blue line of the North Sea, -now rippling and sparkling in the morning sunshine. - -Mr. Field finished his egg and leant back pompously in his carved oak -chair. - -He was a strongly built man, of medium height and with a tendency to -stoutness, which did not improve his already clumsy figure. His neck -was short and thick, and more than one layer of what is popularly known -as a double chin lurked beneath his square and heavy jaws. Small eyes of -a pale tawny brown looked out from under scarcely defined eyebrows, -which twitched and frowned nervously, betokening a restless and uneasy -mind. A scrubby moustache only slightly hid the thin compressed lips, -at the corners of which ran deeply graven lines, as if they sought by -their almost cruel hardness to counteract the weakness of the brow. It -was a selfish and secretive face, and just at present it was a very -self-satisfied one as it turned towards the fair scene beyond the -casement. - -"Julius," he said, turning to the other occupant of the room, "it's not -every lad of your age who starts in life with such prospects. A house -like Farncourt and enough dollars to buy up all the landowners round -about! My sakes--not many boys in England can boast of that, I can tell -you! Don't you forget it, Julius; and don't let others forget it -either." - -"I think Farncourt is a horrid old hole, father, and what use is it -saying you can buy up all the landowners when you can't get the only bit -of ground you really want, however much you try, even though it only -belongs to a poor fisherman like Timothy Green?" - -The speaker was a small boy of about ten years of age. He might have -been a good-looking child if it had not been for the discontented -expression upon his face, and the ill-tempered mouth and chin. From his -speech, if you did not look at him, he might have been double his age. - -Thomas Field's countenance darkened as he directed his gaze beyond the -terrace boundary, where, in a gap between the trees, a whitewashed -cottage could be seen, standing out plainly against the background of -sea. - -As a red rag to a bull, so was this unpretentious building to the owner -of Farncourt. - -"It is absurd," he exclaimed, as he had done many a time before, "to -think that a beggarly old fellow with one foot in the grave should be -able to defy me openly and ruin my view, when I offer him good money -down, tenfold more than the ramshackle hovel is worth, if he'll only -clear out to a better house and leave me in peace. When the whole of -this fine place is mine, honestly bought and paid for, why should he be -allowed to stick there in full sight of my windows, so that I can't look -out without for ever seeing that one blot which spoils it all?" - -"He says he'd rather die in his bed there than own Farncourt," replied -the boy. - -"Obstinate old duffer," exclaimed his father, "but I doubt he'll get his -desire sooner than he thinks. The way the cliff is breaking away there -is a caution, and some fine night he may find his precious roof come -tumbling down upon his head; which will be a good way out of the -difficulty for me, even if it does not benefit him overmuch! I'll not -rest till I'm master of all the land I can see from Farncourt Tower, and -have the undisputed right to prevent upstarts from loafing about the -place." - -"There are two new people come to live at Mrs. Sheppard's house," -remarked Julius, "a lady and a boy. I saw him on the beach yesterday, -and he seemed rather jolly. I mean to have him here to play with me -sometimes." - -"Listen to me, Julius," said his father; "you get quite enough of your -own way as it is, but I do draw the line somewhere. Ask me for anything -in reason and you'll get it, but to be allowed to bring within my doors -any chance riff-raff you may happen to pick up, that I cannot and will -not permit." - -"He's not a riff-raff," answered Julius sulkily, "he's quite a -gentleman, even if he has rather shabby clothes, and he's not come on -chance. John says he's going to live here for some time." - -"How often have I told you not to gossip with your groom," retorted Mr. -Field. "If the earl chooses to allow his tenants to let lodgings it's -no business of mine, and he may turn his end of the village into slums -for all I care, but the part that belongs to me, I keep for myself and -my own people. I've knocked about the world all my life, and now I've -made my pile and settled down on my private estate, no one is to go -wandering over it without my permission. I came here for quiet and -solitude, and I mean to see that I get it, in spite of all the earls in -creation. If you find that stranger woman or her boy trespassing within -my grounds, let me know about it, and I'll soon teach them their place." - -"I don't see why I shouldn't play with him," rejoined Julius, petulantly -pushing back his chair from the table, and kicking his feet about. "You -won't let me talk to John, and I don't like the gardener's boys; they're -horrid rude fellows and won't do what I want." - -"You've got everything you can desire that money will buy," answered his -father sternly. "Only last month I gave you that thoroughbred pony which -you had set your heart on, and which cost me a pretty penny, I assure -you, though you're welcome to another if you wish, for all it matters to -me. You've got the best games and books that can be bought, enough to -stock a shop, and yet it appears you are not satisfied. There are -motors in the garage, and boats on the lake, with servants at hand to do -your every bidding, why should you go hankering after loafers you know -nothing about, and who have the impudence to hang about my property -against my express desire." - -"It's no fun playing games by myself," grumbled Julius. "Now that old -Finney has gone, I've not even got him to help me. I want a boy the -same age as me, that I can lick if he gets cheeky, and who won't call me -names, like the gardener's sons." - -"Call you names, like the gardener's sons," repeated Mr. Field -incredulously. "I never heard of such a thing. Benson shall have a -piece of my mind about this before the day is out, and if he can't teach -his cubs to behave themselves, he must look out for another situation, -that's all. If things go on at the Good Hope mine as they have done in -the past, the world will hear about you, Julius, and at no very distant -time either. Folk must climb down when they speak to you, and treat you -with fitting respect. You've had advantages that I never enjoyed, and -some fine day, if I mistake not, you'll find yourself at the top of the -tree; so in the meantime, my lad, don't price yourself too cheap, but -just stand up with the best of them. There's a new tutor coming next -term in place of Finney--a younger man who has carried off every prize -he could win and charges accordingly, so you'd better get as much as you -can out of him when he arrives, and leave this shabby young rascal and -the gardener's boys to fight it out together upon the beach." - -With a satisfied air, as if the last word had now been said, Mr. Field -rose from his chair and sauntered out to charge Benson with the enormity -of his offence, a congenial task which lost nothing in the doing. -Meanwhile Julius, left to himself in the breakfast-room, proceeded to -feed Pat, his Irish terrier, with chicken rissoles, until that amusement -palled, and he whistled to the dog to follow him out of doors. - -Aimlessly the child wandered round to the back of the house, where a row -of splendid rabbit-hutches with pedigreed inhabitants claimed his -attention for a few brief moments. There was nothing to do there, for -the lad specially engaged to attend to their wants had just given them -their morning meal, and each silky creature was already contentedly -nibbling the tender cabbage leaves so plentifully provided for their -repast. To excite Pat by inviting him to put his nose through the wire -netting was the only interest in that quarter, and as the dog sensibly -refused to respond, there was nothing for it but to go further afield. - -For about half an hour Julius watched the cleaning of the great -sixty-horse-power car, amusing himself by executing a series of -deafening hoots upon the motor horn to the distraction of the chauffeur, -who had learnt only too well that to remonstrate only meant a -prolongation of the din. - -From the garage to the stables was the next move, and the order was -given to saddle the new pony. - -"I'm going to take Prince over those hurdles again," Julius remarked as -John led the beautiful animal out of its stall. "You'd better come to -the field to set them up for me." - -"The vet said as how Prince had been too hard set at them last time, -sir, seeing as he strained his off foreleg a bit," replied the groom, -"and the master he told me he didn't wish the pony to jump again for a -while, though he was all right for a quiet ride." - -"What's the fun of a pony that can't jump?" exclaimed the boy -impatiently. "I don't want to walk about the roads as if I was at a -funeral. I won't ride at all if I can't try the hurdles, so you may take -the stupid beast away." - -"There's Red Rover, sir, if you want another horse. I'll saddle him in -a jiffey, and he's a rare one at a gallop, even though he's not so light -at the fences as Prince." - -Julius eyed the smart little cob that had been his favourite mount till -the new-comer arrived upon the scene, and felt half inclined to follow -the friendly advice. But after all, what was the good of going for a -gallop when there was nowhere special to gallop to, and no one to gallop -with except John, who was apt to be surly if you went too fast? So he -shook his head. - -"I don't want Red Rover," he said. "They're a rotten lot, all of them. -I'll get father to give me a stronger pony next time, that won't strain -its silly old legs by jumping over a footstool." - -Turning his back upon the stable yard he made his way slowly into the -lane. - -"I wish the new tutor was here," he said to himself, "even old Finney -would be better than nobody. I think I'll go to Timothy Green's cottage -and see how far the cliff has broken away. Father seemed to think it was -going pretty fast. I wonder if some day the house will really topple -over on to the beach." - -With some definite purpose at length in his mind, Julius hurried down -the track which led through the copse to the sea. The trees thinned as -he neared the cliff, those that were left, standing out gaunt and -weather-beaten by the storms which broke upon them so fiercely from the -east. - -A rough fence enclosing a patch of ground marked the boundary of the -small domain which had so excited the wrath of Mr. Field. The cottage -lay end on to the sea, its low door facing the south. Hardy flowers -bloomed within the little plot, but Julius remarked with surprise that -the wall, on the further side of the garden had disappeared since he had -last walked that way. - -Passing the rickety gate that gave entrance from the lane, he crept -cautiously to the edge of the cliff and peeped down. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *Forbidden Fruit* - - -Far below lay the debris of the crag not yet carried away by the waves -which now crept sleepily along the shore. Harmless, gentle ripples they -looked that day, softly crooning a lullaby to the pebbles on the beach; -very different to the angry guise in which they appeared on winter -nights, when the mighty hissing billows came leaping up the cliff like -hungry tongues, seeking to lick out the very foundations of the land. -Many a great slice had they already snatched away. Acre after acre of -fair cornfield and forest had once stood where now the ocean rolled, and -every year fresh portions of the fruitful earth disappeared beneath the -irresistible onslaught of the foe. - -North and south as far as eye could reach, Julius could trace the long -rampart of cliff facing the wide expanse of water. In the distance a -lonely church stood perched upon the edge, a mere deserted shell, with -ruined tower and roofless nave, of which the greater part had long since -fallen into the sea. Sole relic it remained of the prosperous city -which once in bygone years had clustered round its walls. - -As Julius withdrew his gaze from the distant prospect to the nearer one -at his feet, he noticed the effects of the last storm on his humble -neighbour's property. - -A large hawthorn hung head downward, its roots holding on like claws in -the crumbling crag, while bits of broken garden fence still clung in -untidy festoons over yawning gaps along the upper portion of the cliff. -Fragments of bricks and boards were scattered upon the shore below, -waiting in disorderly confusion for the waves to finish their handiwork -and bury them out of sight. Only a foot or two of solid ground remained -between the sea end of the dwelling and the top of the landslip. -Already great cracks were making themselves seen in the cottage walls, -showing the gradual subsidence of the soil beneath. - -"I wonder old Timothy dares to stay in his house when any moment a lump -of earth may break away," said the boy to himself. "What a lot has gone -since I was here last! I remember there used to be a pigsty here in the -spring, but I suppose that's it lying in pieces on the shore. I wonder -if the pig was in it when it went down." - -As he meditated upon this possible tragedy the door of the house opened -and two people came out. Julius at once recognized them as the stranger -lady and her little son, whom he had met before and been cautioned to -avoid. He crouched down behind a sheltering bush until they should pass -by. - -"She's got rather a nice face," he murmured, "and the boy's not half -bad, in spite of all father says against them." - -It was no wonder that the lonely child looked with longing eyes upon the -pair. Others as well as he had found comfort in the calm sweetness -which rested as the habitual expression on Madelaine Power's fair -features. As she turned at the porch to wave farewell to old Timothy, -the honeysuckle made a fitting frame to her tall, graceful figure, clad -in the simple black gown which tells the story of widowhood to the -world. - -Julius watched her as she walked down the path towards the gate, her -eyes full of mother-love as she met the eager upturned gaze of the -curly-headed child at her side, and a sharp pang of jealousy shot -through his heart, leaving a sore feeling behind. - -"It's a perfect beauty, mother!" the boy was saying. "I think it was -just awfully good of Timothy to give it to me." - -Julius noticed that the lad was carrying something beneath his jacket, -carefully pressed against his chest--something that moved, for it needed -both hands and arms to hold it safe. - -"We'll have to make a little house for it, Robin," answered his mother. -"I'm afraid it will feel rather strange at first, poor creature, in its -unaccustomed quarters." - -"I wonder what he's got," soliloquized Julius. "I expect it's a puppy or -a kitten, or some idiotic thing like that. What's the use of making -such a fuss about it, when they're as common as blackberries." - -But to Robin the little, warm, furry bundle he held so closely to his -breast meant a treasure precious beyond words, the possession of which -had suddenly turned his prospects rose-colour. All the way down the lane -his busy tongue never ceased. Plan after plan for the accommodation of -his new favourite was poured into his mother's attentive ear. - -Julius listened enviously until the clear ringing voice had died away in -the distance. When he could hear it no longer, he rose from his -hiding-place and sauntered slowly and discontentedly home. - -It was early next morning when he met Robin once again. - -Yielding to John's persuasions he had condescended to mount Red Rover, -and after a good gallop on the heath was returning by the road that led -to the sea. He was about to pass in at the lodge gates which guarded -Farncourt, when he caught sight of Robin coming towards him on an -ancient grey pony, whose sedate bearing and somewhat stiff movements -proclaimed a long life of uneventful toil. - -"That's a fine old cow you've got," he said rudely, when the pair -reached the entrance of the park. - -Robin flushed. Pride had filled his heart when he said good-bye to his -mother at the garden door, and he and the blacksmith's pony had gone out -alone into the great unknown. No boy was he, enjoying a rare and -unwonted ride--rather was he a knight in armour on his trusty warhorse, -pacing forth undauntedly to do battle with tyrants and dragons in the -cause of Right. And now--to hear his charger called a cow! It was -galling, to say the least of it, and his spirit rose to the occasion. - -"Insult me not, caitiff!" he exclaimed, "or thou shalt rue the day. -Stand and deliver!" - -With a whoop, more like that of an Indian at Buffalo Bill's Wild West -Show than of an errant knight of King Arthur's Table, the boy suddenly -applied his whip to the old pony's flanks, making him lurch heavily -forward to the charge. - -Surprised by the unexpected attack, it required all Julius' horsemanship -to calm Red Rover, and stay the plunging of the fiery little cob. -Quieted at length, he managed to bring him to a standstill within the -gates, and from that safe vantage ground he turned to face the enemy. - -"You'd better not come in here with your clumsy beast," he called out. -"If you do, you'll be prosecuted. Look, it's written up on that board." - -"I desire not to set foot within thy territory," replied Robin grandly. -"I go forth to the great battle where the king awaits me, relying upon -my trusty sword." - -Taken aback by this strange form of address, Julius watched silently as -the youthful combatant laboriously turned his steed and passed with -sober tread along the road. One more shot came Parthian-wise as they -went their way, revealing the boy beneath the knight. - -"It's all very well to call my pony a cow, but it can shake hands and -open a gate, and I expect that's more than yours can do." - -As Julius rode up the avenue one purpose only filled his mind. How -could he get to know this lad, and find out more about the delightful -game which he seemed to be enjoying all by himself. - -"If only we could play at being knights together, what glorious -tournaments we could have in the meadow," he thought. "He looked so -jolly and brave when he came banging into Red Rover like that, just as -if he was a real warrior. I wonder how he taught his pony to shake -hands. I wish Prince could learn to do it too. Why does father hate to -have anybody here? I don't think it's fair. Anyhow, I'm going to try -and see the boy again, whatever any one may say." - -The late afternoon sun was shining down on Sea View Cottage as Julius -crept up to a small hole in the hedge which separated the garden from -the lane. A pretty picture met his eye as he peered through. Not a -stone's throw from him stood the little house, nestling in a bower of -green, its long slope of rich brown thatch cut into fantastic patterns, -across which wandering creepers seemed to cast protecting arms. A -profusion of sweet-smelling flowers filled the narrow border on each -side of the path, making a bright foreground to the scene. - -The stranger lady sat sewing in a low chair beneath a tree, while beside -her was the quondam knight, hard at work with hammer and saw fashioning -something out of old boxes and wire. - -"Where's Peter?" suddenly exclaimed Robin, springing to his feet. - -"Who's Peter?" whispered Julius to himself, as he tried to get a better -view of the group. - -The words had no sooner fallen from his lips than a tiny brown rabbit -darted out of the hedge at his feet and hopped rapidly down the road. -Quick as thought, Pat the terrier had the little creature in his mouth, -from which Julius rescued it a moment later, trembling and terrified, -but apparently none the worse for its unceremonious capture. - -"What a good thing it was that you and your dog were just passing when -Peter slipped out," said Robin to him as he walked into the garden and -delivered up the runaway. - -It was with certain qualms of conscience that Julius had lifted the -latch of the gate and entered the forbidden ground, but he strove to -stifle them as best he could. Even if his father did see him, surely he -would not blame him for doing such a kind and simple act? It was very -unlikely, however, that he would know anything at all about it, for he -hardly ever came to that end of the village, and Sea View Cottage lay -quite off the beaten track. There would surely be no harm just finding -out if the boy was a nice fellow after all, for if he wasn't, he would -not trouble his head about him again. - -Apparently his investigations proved satisfactory, for it was only when -it got too dark to see any more that he reluctantly tore himself away. -Never could he remember to have spent an afternoon that passed so -quickly. No grand patent rabbit-hutch, perfect in every detail, had -ever given him half so much joy as this rough makeshift at which the two -boys laboured eagerly as long as it was light. - -When at length the crowning moment arrived, and Peter was formally -introduced to his new home, Julius was almost as excited over it as was -Robin himself. Long did he linger, so fascinating was it to watch the -little inmate as it explored the corners of the old packing-case, and -stood up on its hind legs to sniff the wire netting which had been so -carefully fastened on, with a vast amount of vigorous hammering and -super-abundance of nails. He almost danced with delight when Peter went -through the narrow doorway, sawn with infinite labour in the hard wood, -which led to the sleeping apartment within. How comfortable he would -find it, filled as it was with nice dry bracken, which the two lads had -gathered from the adjoining wood. - -"I'll come back to-morrow early," he remarked to Robin, when at length -he could bring himself to say good-bye. "I think everything's right, -but there might be a nail or two we could stick in somewhere to make it -all quite secure, and we'll be able to see better in the morning." - -"I think Robin's the jolliest boy I ever knew," he said to himself as he -went home. "I'll often go to see him, if only I can manage without -father finding out. We'll have some fine times together, and no one -will be any the wiser." - -"I couldn't have believed he was such a decent sort of chap," was -Robin's comment after Julius had taken his departure. "He seemed such -an utter cad when he spoke to me at the gates." - -"Poor little fellow," replied Mrs. Power, "you see he's got no mother to -help him to behave, and I expect he's not used to meeting people, as Mr. -Field leads such an isolated life. We must try and be kind to him if we -can." - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *Judge Simmons* - - -"A gentleman to see you, sir," said the footman as he approached Mr. -Field with a salver on which lay a solitary visiting card. - -"Eh, what? A visitor, did you say?" said his master. "What's his name, -Jenkins?" - -"It's written there, sir," replied the footman. "He said you wouldn't -know him, but he would be glad if you could see him for a few moments on -business." - -"Judge Simmons," read out Mr. Field, as he took up the card. "Sounds as -if he came from America." - -"So he does, sir, if you can go by his accent," answered Jenkins. - -"Don't like Yankees, though I've spent so much of my life among them," -murmured Mr. Field under his breath. "What can this fellow want, coming -bothering me here?" he added in a slightly louder tone. - -"I don't know, sir, I didn't happen to enquire," replied the footman. - -"Don't be impertinent, Jenkins," said Mr. Field looking up sharply. He -lived in continual dread that his servants were making fun of him behind -his back, and Jenkins' tone was suspiciously polite. "Of course it's -not your place to question my visitors, and you'd pretty soon find -yourself in hot water if you did." - -"Judge Simmons is a better specimen of a gentleman than old Field," was -the footman's conclusion as he piloted the visitor into the library, -"and I fancy he knows a thing or two by the look of him. I shouldn't -like to be faced by him if there was anything shady I wanted to hide. -His eyes seem to go right through you, as if he could count your very -bones." - -Certainly the tall spare figure that crossed the room to shake hands -with Mr. Field was a good example of the typical well-bred American. -Clean-shaven, with a firm jaw, and quick, piercing eyes, he gave one the -impression at once of a strong man, alert and observant, with a sense of -humour tempering the sternness of the mouth. - -"I must apologize," he said, "for intruding upon you in this manner, but -I shall be grateful if you will allow me to speak to you on a matter of -rather urgent business." - -Mr. Field motioned him to a chair, and replied that he would be pleased -to assist him if it was in his power to do so. - -"Well," continued the stranger, "the fact is this. I have a young -friend over in Mexico, who is rather too fond of embarking on commercial -enterprises of a decidedly risky and precarious nature, and as I am in a -way his adviser, I feel a certain amount of responsibility when he asks -my opinion about things. He has just written, saying he has the option -of purchasing some land in which rumour says that silver maybe found, -and he wants to know what I think about it. It is quite out of your -beat, Mr. Field, as I know your mines are in California, so I felt it -would not be trespassing on your preserves if I asked you to be kind -enough to answer a few questions in a friendly way as to the risks of -such a speculation, knowing what an authority you are upon the subject. -I am staying with Lord Monfort, and, hearing that you resided so near, I -ventured to make myself known to you, hoping that my nationality would -perhaps appeal to you, seeing you have lived so long in my country." - -Mr. Field's features, which at first had been decidedly forbidding, -relaxed at the mention of the earl. Aloof though he held himself from -the ordinary run of mankind, it was his secret ambition to mix with that -society into which, except for his great wealth, he could never hope to -obtain entrance. To know that he had been the subject of conversation -at Lanthorne Abbey was as nectar to his aspiring soul. - -"I shall be glad to do what I can for you," he said urbanely, "if you -will kindly give me some particulars as to locality and the like." - -After about half an hour's conference Judge Simmons rose to go. - -"You will stay to lunch, won't you?" urged Mr. Field. "It's getting on -towards one o'clock, and I shall be pleased to welcome you, if you will -be content with merely the company of myself and my little boy." - -"I've only once been down your way," remarked Judge Simmons as they were -seated at table, "and that was some years ago, before you had made that -corner of the world a household word. Everyone knows the Good Hope -silver mine and its apparently exhaustless resources, but I wish I could -locate it better in my own mind. I don't seem able to fit it in with -what I remember of the place. I went with a nice young fellow named -Barker who was prospecting then in those parts, and he staked out a -claim somewhere thereabouts. I recollect he called it Wild Goat Gully. -I've quite lost sight of him since, and have never been up there again, -but I fancy he didn't strike it rich, or we should have heard of it -before now." - -"I was told that he went completely to the dogs, and was at last drowned -when crossing one of the big rivers," replied Mr. Field. "He certainly -made nothing out of his Gully, so far as I heard, and the very name he -gave it has died out." - -"One peculiarity about it struck me much at the time," remarked the -judge. "There was a high precipice bounding it on one side, with a -great orange streak right across it as if it had been daubed on with a -brush. Some geological freak, I suppose." - -"Why, how funny!" exclaimed Julius, who had been sitting silently -listening to the conversation. "That's just like the Good Hope cliff. -It looks exactly as if some enormous giant had thrown his pot of yellow -paint at the rock." - -"Strange," said the judge, glancing up at Mr. Field, "I heard there -wasn't another formation like it in the whole country." - -"What nonsense!" ejaculated Mr. Field testily. "I've explored every -part of the district for miles round, and know every inch of it well, -and I could show you half a dozen valleys where there were similar -rocks, any one of which might be Wild Goat Gully." - -"I don't think there are, father," chimed in Julius, "for I asked old -Joe the trapper, who has lived there all his life, and he told me just -the same as Judge Simmons. He said it was 'unique,' and I remember when -I asked you what that was, you said it meant there wasn't another like -it in the world." - -"If you contradict me in this way, Julius, you may just leave the room," -said his father in an angry tone. "I won't have lies told at my table, -even by my own son. Do you hear me, Julius? Be off with you this -instant, or I'll give you a thrashing that you won't soon forget." - -"It's quite true, father," stoutly asserted the boy. "You know you've -often said to me that no one could equal the Good Hope mine any more -than they could match the yellow splash on its cliff." - -A box on the ears was Mr. Field's only reply, as he grasped the lad by -the arm and hustled him out of the door. - -"I am sorry, sir," he said when he returned to the table, "but I am -ashamed to say my boy has developed a terrible faculty for telling the -most deliberate untruths, and I have to do my best to check him. He -seems to take a perfect delight in inventing stories without a shadow of -foundation, and in sticking to them at all costs." - -"I believe the child's version was the right one," said Judge Simmons to -himself as he motored back to Lanthorne Abbey. "Why should Field be so -anxious to demonstrate that orange streaks were such very ordinary -things?" - -Suddenly he sat up and gave a low exclamation. - -"What if he wished to prove to me that Good Hope mine could not possibly -be the same as Wild Goat Gully? That's a question which opens out some -interesting answers. I guess I'll make some enquiries when I get back -to California again." - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *Timothy's Three Friends* - - -Madelaine Power wandered along the shore idly watching the waves as they -came tumbling in, their white crests curling in a succession of long -feathery lines, until with a roar and a hiss they were flung upon the -beach, spreading themselves out like great fans of foam upon the -shingle. - -No figure but her own was to be seen on the narrow pebbly strip, which -ran like a yellow ribbon between the foot of the cliff and the incoming -tide. No sound was to be heard save the monotonous music of the -breakers, and an occasional wild cry as a stray sea-gull circled above -her head. - -Madelaine gave a little shiver as her eye followed the desolate track. - -"Only eleven years ago this month since Gerald and I trod this very -shore," she said. "Only eleven years, and yet what a lifetime it seems! -Truly much of it has been to me a sad and solitary way. It has been -heavy walking, and most of it against the wind!" - -She stood for a moment gazing at the coast-line, up which a sea-mist was -slowly travelling, blotting out the distant view of ocean and headland. - -"Just as my troubles have blotted out my sun," she thought to herself, -as she morbidly let her mind dwell on the dark days of the past. - -It was not strange that her spirit failed her at times, for the road had -indeed been toilsome to her young feet. - -The only child of a struggling country doctor, and left an orphan at the -age of seventeen, she had early engaged in a hard fight for existence, -earning a scanty livelihood by teaching in the neighbouring town. It -was there that the girl made the acquaintance of the handsome young -surveyor whose friendship made so great a difference to her lonely lot. -Small wonder was it, when he asked her to be his wife, that she should -feel as if a new and glorious era had suddenly dawned. No matter that -her home was to be henceforth in the unknown West. The heart's love of -her strong and generous nature had been given wholly to him whom she -would gladly have followed to the ends of the earth. - -With high hope the youthful couple had gone forth to try their fortune -in the New World, and for some months things went cheerily enough with -them. Then came speculations and accompanying failure, and Madelaine -learnt only too well the weak side of the man whom she still loved, but -with the pitiful sustaining tenderness of a nobler and braver character -than his own. - -After the birth of their boy, Gerald had for a time displayed greater -energy and perseverance in seeking to better his position, journeying -often long distances in search of work. It was during one of these -absences that Madelaine received the letter which almost broke her heart -and sprinkled her chestnut hair with grey. - -It told her how her husband had been suddenly smitten by the cold hand -of death while travelling in a wild part of the country, his body being -laid to rest in the depths of the trackless forest. His watch and chain -and an unfinished diary were the only tokens enclosed in the -accompanying package, and the young widow was left to realize as best -she could the desolate and penniless position in which she and her -infant were now placed. - -Neither she nor Gerald had any relatives to whom she could appeal, and -had it not been for the aid given to her in her distress by an eccentric -and benevolent neighbour she would indeed have been destitute. Touched -by the forlorn condition of the hapless pair, this aged recluse invited -them to share his humble dwelling, and when he died about three months -later, Madelaine found to her surprise, that he had willed the whole of -his little property to herself and her son. One solitary stipulation he -made, and that a hard one in the faithful Madelaine's eyes. Only by -adopting his name could she and the boy claim the legacy that he left. -It was after much searching of heart that finally the thought of the -benefit which would accrue to her child outweighed the repugnance she -felt in setting aside the sacred name of her dead husband, and as -Madelaine Power she set sail with her baby for England, and settled down -in their new home. - -Helping out the small income by typewriting and fine needlework, she had -managed hitherto to make a fairly comfortable living; but at present the -thought of Robin's education weighed somewhat heavily upon her heart. -To be either a doctor or a surveyor was the summit of the boy's -ambition, but how to give him the training he required for such a career -was a problem she had not solved as yet. - -As she let her mind wander again to the future, she chanced to look down -upon the beach where a wave had run up higher than its fellows, almost -to the spot where she stood. There at her feet lay a tiny fish, -struggling vainly on the sand, a helpless waif, left high and dry by the -retreating sea. - -"You poor little thing," she cried, as she stooped, and, lifting it -gently, threw it with a steady hand into the deep water beyond. "I -couldn't leave you to die there all by yourself. How strange to think -that in all these miles of desolate shore you should have been washed up -just at my feet. I wonder if God knew? Yes, of course He did, for -we're told plainly that the eyes of the Lord are in every place. If He -hears the young ravens when they cry, and notices if a sparrow falls, He -knows surely when the humblest of His human creatures are in need." - -She turned and walked back by the shore, now brightened by a gleam of -sunshine, as the sea-mist cleared away. The waves seemed to sing a new -refrain as she passed along, the melody of which put vigour into her -steps and a light into her eyes; - - "How much more .... How much more - Will He clothe you, - O, ye of little faith?" - - -"I may as well go up and pay Timothy a visit," she thought, as she -reached a rough ladder-like staircase which gave access to the top of -the cliff from the beach below. The wall of the aged fisherman's -cottage could be seen almost on a line with the edge of the crag. - -"How terrible it must be to live there," she exclaimed as she looked up. -"I hardly like even to go in to visit him for a few minutes, and to -think of trying to sleep in such a place!" - -She knocked at the door, and entered the little kitchen, which was -fortunately at that end of the house which was furthest from the sea. - -It was a low room with heavy wooden rafters and whitewashed walls. The -old man was sitting by the open fireplace in his high-backed chair, -placidly smoking his pipe, while at his elbow stood an oak table an -which lay a well-worn Bible in its brown leather binding, and a pair of -horn spectacles. - -After a few words of greeting, Mrs. Power's thoughts turned naturally to -the danger threatening the occupant of the perilous dwelling. - -"I wonder you're not afraid, Timothy, of staying here all by yourself. -Any night the waves may break away another piece of the cliff, and the -house may go." - -Timothy slowly took his pipe out of his mouth and laid it carefully upon -the table; then placing both his withered hands upon his knees, he leant -forward and nodded his head gently, while he kept his kindly eyes fixed -on the face of his visitor. - -"I be ninety-four year old come next Lady-day," he commenced in his high -quaking voice, "and I've seen many a good friend pass away. The old wife -she's gone, and the two little ones that God took with the whooping -cough when they were but babes. My brothers are all gone, and my three -sisters, and the fine comrades I started with on life's journey. We -went together down to the sea in ships, and not one on 'em's outside the -harbour now, except my old worthless self. They're all gone, all my -good true friends, all gone but three. And them three, I think on them -by day, and I dream on them by night, the only three on 'em that's left. -Like as not you'll smile when I tell you their names. They be right -strange friends even for an old man like me." - -"Tell me who they are?" said his visitor, for Timothy had ceased -speaking and was gazing absently into the fire. - -He hesitated a moment. - -"Well," he said at length, "I'll tell you. One on 'em's Death, and -another be the Tide, but the third be the best One of all." - -"What do you mean?" asked Madelaine, for the old man had paused, as if -his thoughts had wandered back again to long past days. "How do you -count them your friends?" - -"This here little house was my father's before me," continued Timothy, -as if talking to himself, "and man and boy I've never lived elsewhere, -though when I was a little lad there were two fine fields between us and -the cliff. I was always a running to the edge to watch the tide, it -fair bewitched me to see it come creeping up and then backing away, day -in, day out, like some mighty living thing with a living breathing -heart. And when I got a bit older, that there sea made a fisher of me. -Summer and winter it gave me my daily bread; it never failed me yet. -The sea's been a rare good friend to me from the one end of life to -t'other; a rare good friend it's been. It'll not go back on me now, it -won't. 'Twould be a mean trick to play on me, it would, if it took the -old place from under my feet, after four and ninety years of good -fellowship! I'm not afraid of the Tide." - -Mrs. Power knew not what to say. No arguments rose to her lips, though -she vainly longed to remonstrate. - -"Well, Timothy," she said at last, "I can't say that I'm as well -acquainted with the ways of the tide as you are, but the other of your -friends that you seem so sure of, I have often heard mentioned as the -great Enemy." - -Timothy's face lit up with a triumphant smile as he raised one hand and -pointed upwards. - -"And why?--I reckon it's because they don't understand. I thought that -once myself, but I see clearer now. The Tide's a good friend, but -Death's better." - -"How did you find that out, Timothy?" questioned Mrs. Power. - -"It was many a long year ago now," was the reply. "The old clergyman's -sister, Miss Alice, she was a good one, she was, and she would have us -young chaps up at the big house to learn us summat when the winter -nights did come, and the sea was too rough for the fishing. She was -always for book learning, was Miss Alice. - -"'Don't go and waste your life, lad,' she would say, 'thinking it's -enough to feed the poor body; 'stead of that, do something for the soul -too.' - -"It's dead and buried she's been this long while now, but she comes back -to me plain, she do, my eyes they seem to see her sitting there yet, -same as I saw her last, the week before she died. She sent for me, she -did, seeing I was one of her old scholars, to tell me she was going -home, and to bid me take more thought for heaven. She was always a -wonderful kind teacher, was Miss Alice, and her face fair shone when she -spoke of God and the golden city. - -"That evening she was sitting by the fire, and on the wall just behind -her was a big picter. Well--that picter it transfixed me wholly; it -stuck in my mind, it did, I have it before me now, as plain as a -pikestaff." - -"What was it like?" asked Mrs. Power. - -"There was an old chap--as it might be me," answered Timothy, "and he -was sitting in his big arm-chair--as it might be this 'un, and his Bible -by his side, and his vittles on the table--just as I have here. He did -look so wonderful tired, that poor man, and he was resting so -comfortable in the big chair. His eyes they were shut, and his head it -was leaning back, and he was sleeping so quiet and peaceable-like. But -you'd never guess what was in that room along of him. No, you'd never -guess." - -"I would rather you told me," said Madelaine, "I'm not good at -guessing." - -"Well," continued Timothy, "along side of the table was a great big -skeleton, dressed up in long flowing clothes, and its face looked right -kind and gentle, it did, and its hands were stretched up, a-pulling the -rope of a great bell that hung in the belfry over the old man's head. -The sun was just sinking, you could see it out of the little window in -the back of the picter. Says I to Miss Alice, 'The old chap'll be finely -scared when he wakes up and sees the ghost.' 'No,' said she, 'there's -writing here below, and it means something quite different. The name of -that picture is "Death as Friend." It means that he's come to call the -poor man away from all his want and all his weariness, and to tell him -it's time to go up to the beautiful city and the light of God.' He's no -enemy--he's a right good friend for an old man to have." - -"So you're expecting him to come for you, Timothy," said Madelaine -gently. - -"Yes, I'm just waiting here for my friend," was the quiet answer. "He -won't be long now, and the other friend down below there, I know he'll -wait till I'm in the mansions of gold before he takes down the walls of -my little house here. I'm waiting quite patient, and I'm not afraid. -We're waiting, all of us, my friends and me, for we're all in the Hand -of Him that's mightier than the mightiest, Him that's the best Friend of -all. I be safe to trust in Him, for He knows the end from the -beginning, and the times and the seasons are His alone." - -The old man took off his fisherman's cap as he spoke, and closed his -eyes as if in prayer. Mrs. Power did not like to disturb him, but -silently left the hut. - -The sunny landscape look blurred to her as she walked home along the -edge of the cliff. - -"I've had a lesson," she said to herself. "The Lord knoweth them that -are His. Surely we may well commit ourselves to the care of our Best -Friend." - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *A Thief in the Night* - - -It was a warm August evening, and the windows of Sea View Cottage were -opened wide to let in the faint breeze which had risen with the turning -of the tide. The lamp was lit in the little sitting-room, and in its -soft glow sat Mrs. Power, her head bending low over her work. - -Suddenly she looked up. - -"What was that curious noise?" she exclaimed. "It sounded as if someone -was in the garden. I really wish old Mrs. Sheppard would keep a dog. -It is not safe to be so far off the high road, and she so deaf." - -She rose and went to the window, peering vainly out into the darkness, -where nothing was to be seen save the dim outlines of the trees lazily -waving their branches against the starlit sky. - -"I wonder if it was Robin walking in his sleep again," she said. "I'll -take the light and see if he's all right." - -She turned to go, but before lifting the lamp she glanced at the watch -which lay beside it on the table. - -"Half-past ten!" she remarked, as she took the key and wound it up. -"Late hours for this Sleepy Hollow, but I think I'll go on a little -longer with my embroidery before I go to bed." - -Replacing the watch, she disappeared with the light into the passage. -As the door closed, a man's face glanced stealthily in at the window, -and the next moment a rough figure in a long overcoat had crept -unobserved into the room. - -"Ladies shouldn't leave their jewellery so tempting-like in a poor man's -way," he muttered. "What else can they expect but to find their trinkets -gone when they come back? Serves 'em right for dangling them in front -of a fellow's nose!" - -He made his way cautiously to the table and groped about with his hands -until he found what he wanted. "Gold!" he ejaculated, "I'm pretty sure -of it by the feel, and a gent's too, by the size of it; not to speak of -a good thick chain that'll bring in a nice little sum by itself." - -He slipped his spoils into the pocket of his coat, and stood pondering -for a moment. - -"Is there nothing else that I could nab?" he said to himself. "Silver -spoons aren't usually found in country lodgings, so it's no use looking -in the sideboard, but I think I caught sight of a missionary-box on the -mantelpiece which might be worth enquiring into, seeing there's not much -else to bag. - -"Ha! Pretty heavy!" he added, as he weighed the box is his hand. "With -no disrespect to the missionary, I'll relieve him from having to dispose -of too much wealth. Pennies, no doubt, mostly, but they tell no tales, -and come in handy for a drink." - -As he was in the act of putting the box into his other pocket, he saw to -his dismay that the light was again approaching the door. - -"I've particular reasons for not showing my attractive face in this -neighbourhood, lady," he continued under his breath, "so with your leave -I'll decline the pleasure of making your acquaintance this evening, and -go back by the way I came." - -He made his way hastily to the window, and was in the act of getting -out, when the light of the lamp flashed out over the garden from the -porch. - -Madelaine had found her little son fast asleep in the tiny room which -opened off her own, and her motherly anxiety being allayed, her thoughts -turned again to outside dangers. - -"I'll close the parlour window," she said, "as it's getting late, just -in case there might be some one loitering about." - -By experience she had discovered that to do this efficiently it was -necessary to push the sash up from outside, so placing the lamp on the -porch-seat, she walked a few steps along the path which led by the front -of the cottage, and proceeded to shut up the casement with a bang. The -stranger had just time to withdraw his hands from the sill, and to start -back into the darkness of the room. - -"Look out there!" he growled low to himself, "I don't want to leave the -tip of one of my fingers in exchange for what I've taken. Now," he -added, "the question is--how shall I get out of this hole? My knowledge -of old Mother Sheppard's diggings in the past ought to serve me in good -stead to-night. If I can only manage to slip into the dark passage that -leads to the kitchen, I know there's a capital hidey-hole under the -stairs, where I've lain in ambush as a boy, and into which I expect I -could squeeze again at a pinch." - -Sure enough, before Madelaine had re-entered the house and reached the -sitting-room with her lamp, the intruder had gained the coveted refuge, -and was crouching down unseen within the recess. Here he remained, -cramped and silent, until the last sounds had died away in the house, -and the uneasy watcher had laid herself down to rest. Not till then did -he creep forth from his shelter and make his way to the kitchen, into -which he walked as one intimate with the place. - -"Mother Sheppard generally had a shakedown in the room at the side," he -soliloquized. "If she's as deaf as she used to be, there's not much fear -of disturbing her, even if I dance a hornpipe on the table. Anyway, -there's no doubt she's a good sleeper, judging by the noise she makes -over it. Sounds more like a concert of tin whistles and drums, than one -old woman snoring!" - -The burglar peeped in at the half-open door, and by the light which came -from the still flickering fire in the kitchen, he made out the humble -couch whereon Mrs. Sheppard lay. - -"Wonder if she keeps her hoard under her pillow," he continued. "They -say these skinflints usually do. Anyhow it's worth a search, and I'll -hope for a bit of good fortune this time." - -He went up to the bed and gently inserted his hand beneath the bolster, -on which reposed the aged head with its close-fitting nightcap and neat -grey hair. - -"Nothing there!" he said. "Perhaps it's under the mattress. I'll have -one more try, and then I'll go." - -If a flash-light had been turned at that moment suddenly upon the scene, -it would have disclosed the evil look of triumph which just then rested -on the man's face. With a sardonic grin he withdrew his arm, clutching -in his hand a leather bag, tied tightly up with knotted string. -Returning to the kitchen, he quietly let himself out by the back door, -after having feasted royally upon goodly slices of the bread and ham -which he found so conveniently ready to his use in the old dame's -cupboard. - -"Now, where are those two nice fat ducks I collared so cleverly before I -went round to the front?" he said. "One of them nearly gave me away -when I cotched it round the neck. I thought some one would be sure to -hear its parting quack. I'll be off with them and the rest of the swag -to Westmarket, before the sun is up, and amuse myself there for a few -days, before coming back here to pay my respects to the old man. No one -saw me to-night, and if I turn up like a good innocent prodigal son in a -week's time, not a soul will connect me with this neat little job." - -It would indeed be difficult to decide which of the three inhabitants of -the cottage was most distressed when the morning revealed to them their -loss. - -Poor old Mrs. Sheppard sat rocking herself to and fro in her chair by -the kitchen fire, her hands over her face, and the tears streaming down -her shrivelled cheeks. "It's all my little savin's as have gone," she -moaned, "every mortal halfpenny as I've worked so hard to put by. -There's naught to keep me out of the workhouse now--not even enough to -bury me, if so be as I die of a broken heart to-night." - -"I don't believe I should mourn the theft of all the money I have in the -house as I do that of the watch," said Madelaine, as for the twentieth -time she hunted in every likely and unlikely place in hopes that she -might absently have laid it down somewhere the night before. "That -which my dear husband always wore, and which was sent to me after he was -dead! It may be silly of me, but the face of that watch seemed to me as -the face of a friend. It comforted me when I looked at it, and made me -feel nearer my lost one than anything else." - -As for Robin, he was inconsolable. To think that his beloved Lily and -Snowball should have been carried off! His two special pets who were so -tame they would follow him all round the garden and eat out of his hand! -It was too dreadful to think that their pretty sleek necks had been -wrung, and that they would be plucked and eaten like any common barndoor -fowl. Such a possibility had never before entered his head. To him they -were only the beautiful creatures which the good God had created for his -special joy. It is to be feared that the disappearance of the -missionary-box sank into comparative insignificance beside this larger -grief. - -It was vain to recount their woes to the stolid village policeman who -came pompously to enquire and make elaborate notes of all. - -"He's been a clever fellow, that!" was the verdict. "But whoever he is, -he's got clear away, and left no clue either. It's a mystery, m'am, and -a mystery it will remain for ever." - -"It's a pity I've just come a few days too late," said Benjamin Green, -old Timothy's son, as he sat taking a glass at the "Bull Inn," the -Saturday after the burglary. "Hopeless stick-in-the-muds you are in -this out-of-the-way place. If you want to be wakened up it's to America -you should go, where I've been all these years. Away there, they'd have -hunted the scapegrace out in no time, aye, and strung him up on the -nearest tree too, for daring to rob widows and children in that -heartless manner. If only I'd been here in time, I bet you I'd have -found him for you! It's just my luck only to have arrived to-day." - -"Have you been up to see your old father yet, Green?" asked one of the -men. - -"No," answered Ben. "I thought I'd fortify myself here before setting -out for the affecting interview. It's not every day that a long-lost -son returns home, and I always feel the better for a dram." - -"What be you a-going to do with him, now you've come back?" continued -his questioner. "Be you going to leave him to tumble over the crag along -with the house, or be you going to make him move, and take Squire -Field's offer before it be too late?" - -"What offer is that?" asked Ben. "I haven't heard of it before." - -"Mean to say you've been half an hour in the place, and nobody's told -you how the squire says he'll give old Timothy one hundred pounds for -the bit of ground he owns on the top of the cliff? Which sum he'll pay -in solid gold the day the old man quits the house. They say he's wild -to pull down the whole place seeing as how it spoils the view from his -grand windows." - -Ben whistled. - -"I've not been up to see my father yet, but I warrant you, he'll not -stay much longer in yonder cottage if that's the way the wind blows. -One hundred pounds in solid gold! What can the old chap be dreaming of? -Why on earth didn't he move the same hour as the offer came?" - -"Says he'll never budge till he's carried out feet foremost," replied -another of the company. - -"There's no use argufying with him. He's wonderful firm." - -"It's not argument I'll use," answered Ben. "It's common sense first, -and then force, if need be. You tell me the house may fall on to the -beach any day now, and if that happens Mr. Field may cancel his bid for -the land. Of course one might draw him again by threatening to build -another house a little further back, but that's a risk. If the offer is -in writing it would be safer to hold him to it now, so long as the walls -are there. Catch me losing a hundred pounds for the sake of an old -man's fads. I'll go up to-night, and we'll soon see who's got the -strongest will!" - -It was a strangely assorted pair that sat opposite each other in the -little cottage on the cliff that evening. - -Ben's countenance was dark with passion, and his eyes were fixed with a -vicious scowl upon his father's frail shrinking form. - -"You say you'll not move," he shouted. "You dare tell me that, and a -hundred pounds at stake." - -"I dare," was the answer, and the quavering voice seemed to take on a -new strength as he said the words. "Never will I sleep under any roof -but this. Here was I born, and here will I die, and no man has a right -to say me nay. Many a time have I prayed for thee, Ben, and longed to -see thee again, my only child, but for such a home-coming as this did I -never reckon. It had been better that you had never returned at all. Go -now, and leave your old father to die in peace, alone with God." - -For a moment, even Ben's rough spirit was checked as he heard the quiet -decision come from the pale thin lips. - -The old man looked up with calm and reproachful eyes into his son's -face. "I'm in the Hand of the Almighty," he added. "I'm not afraid." - -As he spoke, a sudden sound like the report of a gun made the two men -look round, and Ben involuntarily took a few steps in the direction of -the door. - -"Why, it's a great crack just come in the ceiling beyond the passage," -he exclaimed. "The next thing will be that the wall itself will be -down. If you don't think it worth while saving your own neck, I -certainly shan't risk mine a minute longer. But you needn't flatter -yourself that the last word has been said. If the house is still -standing to-morrow morning I'll be up by sunrise to carry you out -bodily, with or without leave, it matters not to me, and I'll see to it -that the money's paid--cash down--before that same sun has set." - -With an oath, Ben hastily quitted the house and went back to console -himself in the hospitable parlour of "The Bull," where he aired his -grievances before an admiring and sympathizing group, only too glad to -drink at his expense to the success of his desires. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *That Terrible Eye* - - -The sun rose on Sunday morning in a cloudless sky, and as the day wore -on, continued to pour down his golden beams upon the earth. - -The bells of the little church rang out their invitation to the -villagers to come and worship in the house of prayer, and from far and -near quiet groups of country folk wended their way through leafy lanes -and ripening cornfields to hold their tryst with God. Robin and his -mother were there betimes, and old Mrs. Sheppard took her seat as usual -in the foremost pew, her shawl pinned across her stooping shoulders and -her old-fashioned bonnet tied with large black ribbon bows under her -chin. - -Service ended, the little knots of worshippers scattered once more in -pleasant anticipation of the Sunday dinner awaiting them at their -journey's end, and the hot afternoon wore on to its close, its silence -broken only by the low murmur of the tide upon the beach. - -The sun was now nearing the end of his giant's race across the sky, but -old Timothy still sat peaceful and unmolested in his cottage upon the -cliff, untroubled by the angry threats hurled at him by his son the -night before. - -The truth was that Ben was in no state that Sabbath morning either to -carry out his designs against his father or to think again of the -tempting bait held out by Mr. Field. His time in the "Bull Inn" the -preceding evening had been only too zealously employed, and all that -long summer day he lay a useless and helpless log in an upstairs chamber -of the little hostelry, sleeping off the effects of his night's -excesses. - -Another inhabitant there was of that seaside village to whom this day -had been a blank. For Julius, the lonely child of Farncourt, Sunday -brought no pleasant memories. The Sabbath bells meant nothing to him, -for Mr. Field had long since given up church-going, and his little son -connected the day only with the dreary fact that even the gardeners and -grooms would be away during all the long and cheerless hours. - -On this particular afternoon he felt more than usually dull. The -glimpse he had got of Robin and his happy home interests made him long -to share again in the latter's pursuits. Neither his rabbits nor his -dog seemed altogether satisfying after having once tasted the joy of a -congenial friend. - -"I'll go down to the Cottage," he said to himself, "and see how Peter is -getting on in his new hutch. I know father's gone off in the motor to -call at the earl's, and he can't be back for an hour at least, so I'm -pretty safe not to be caught." - -There was no one in the garden as he walked up the little path, but just -as he reached the door of the house Robin rushed out with a paint-box in -his hand. - -"Hullo, Julius, is that you?" he said, coming suddenly to a stand. - -"Hullo, Robin," was the reply. "How's Peter?" - -Without more ado the two boys made their way to the rabbit's dwelling, -and stood for a few moments wrapt in contemplation of their joint -handiwork. - -"I mustn't keep mother waiting any longer," said Robin at last. "I'm -going to paint a text while she reads to me. We're sitting in the -summer-house, as it's so hot in the sun." - -"What do you mean by painting a text?" asked Julius. "I thought texts -were in the Bible." - -"You _are_ funny, Julius," replied Robin. "Of course they're in the -Bible, but these are printed on cards in nice big letters with borders -and flowers. I'm allowed to paint them on Sunday, and they're really -jolly to do." - -It was not long before Julius was introduced to the series of large -outline texts which Robin displayed with pride and the eager energy -which characterized his every action. - -"If you like," he said, "perhaps mother will let you paint one with her -colours. She's lent me her paint-box as it's so much better than mine." - -"I've got a far finer one than that," remarked Julius, "with ever so -many more paints in it." - -Robin looked up in surprise at the unmannerly comment, but his mother -signed to him to pass it by, and spread out the texts for the boys to -choose. - -"I find there are two exactly alike," she said, "suppose you each take -one, and we'll see who gets on the better." - -Robin read out the words as she held them up for him to see. - -"The eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and the -good." - -"That's my favourite verse," he added. "Let's paint that." - -"I don't think that's at all a nice one," said Julius. "I don't want -God's eyes to be always looking down at me, seeing everything I do." - -"It just depends on how you feel about God," said Mrs. Power, "whether -you look upon Him as your enemy or as your friend. You remind me of two -little stories I once heard. I'll tell them to you and then you'll -understand what I mean. - -"There was once a prisoner who had been sentenced to solitary -confinement in a gaol. He was condemned to live for months in a cell -with no window except a tiny grated one so high up in the wall that he -could not see out of it. It was bad enough to be obliged to endure this, -but there was something else which made it much worse. In the door of -the cell a little round hole had been made, and behind it a jailor was -always stationed so that he could look in through the hole and watch the -prisoner." - -"How horrid!" exclaimed Robin. "I wonder how he could bear it." - -"The thought of that eye always upon him and taking note of everything -that he did, nearly drove the poor captive mad," continued his mother. -"Sometimes he would dash up suddenly to the little aperture and thrust -his face close to it, if by this means he could perhaps startle the -jailor and make him withdraw if only for a moment from the unceasing -watch. 'That terrible eye,' he would call it, when he was at length -released, and could recount his experiences to his friends." - -"I'm sure God's eye is terrible," said Julius. "It makes me frightened -when I think of it." - -"Listen to the second story then," answered Mrs. Power, "and you'll see -the other side. - -"My mother used to tell me that when she was quite a little girl she was -dreadfully afraid of two things--a brindled cow that had been known to -run at a child, and the butcher's large black dog. My grandfather's -cottage was at the side of the road, and there was a straight piece that -led from its door to a small shop just at the entrance of the village. -You could see the entire length from the corner of the garden, and it -would not take you more than five minutes to run the whole way between -the two houses. One day my mother was sent to fetch some groceries which -had been ordered at the store, and as the sister who usually went with -her was ill, she had to go alone. Now this was very alarming to her, as -the brindled cow's field lay beside the road, and she had never been -quite so far by herself before. 'Don't be silly, Lizzie,' said her -father, who was smoking in the porch. 'You're getting too big a girl to -be frightened at nothing. I'll watch as you go along and see that no -harm comes to you.' So off she started with her pennies in her hand, -and a very anxious little heart beating beneath her white pinafore. To -her dismay, just when she had got about half-way, the head of the -brindled cow appeared above the hedge, and a moment later the creature -had forced its way through and was standing in the lane. The child -turned, and would have fled homewards, but there, trotting leisurely -towards her in the middle of the path, whom should she see but none -other than her second enemy, the butcher's dog." - -"What did she do?" asked Robin breathlessly. "Did she climb up a tree -and get safe?" - -"There was no tree to climb," replied Mrs. Power. "The only thing she -could do was to crouch down, crying and trembling on the ground, and try -to hide herself under the brambles by the road-side. Her one thought -was, 'I'm so glad father's looking, for he'll be sure to come and help.' -Sure enough before either the brindled cow or the dog had reached the -spot where she lay, her father's hearty voice was calling to her not to -fear, and the next moment she was safe in his strong arms, clinging to -him with all her tiny might." - -"What a good thing he kept his promise and didn't forget to watch!" -exclaimed Julius. "Supposing he'd been looking the other way when the -cow got out!" - -"There's my lesson," said Mrs. Power, smiling. "To know that her -father's eye was following her all the time was the greatest comfort she -had. It is just the same with us in regard to God. If we look on Him -as our kind, loving Father and Friend, ready to help and to save, it -will only give us joy to think of His watchful eye upon us, noticing -everything that happens to us. It will make us more careful than ever -not to displease Him, but all the same it will cause us to feel very -safe and happy. It is a perfectly different case to that of the poor -prisoner living in constant dread of the terrible eye of his jailor." - -"I think I'll paint the verse after all," remarked Julius after a pause, -in which the boys had been silently considering the matter. - -"I'd like to feel God was my Friend," he said to himself as he walked -home. "But all the same there's a heap of things I wouldn't like Him to -see." - -Mr. Field drove up in the motor as Julius arrived at the door. A glance -at his face showed the boy that his father had not returned in the best -of tempers. His eyebrows were drawn together in a nervous frown, and -his voice, as he gave some orders to the chauffeur, was harsh and -imperious. - -"Did you see the earl?" asked Julius. - -"No, I didn't," was the abrupt reply. "Don't come bothering me with -questions, Julius. I haven't time to listen to your chatter just now." - -The truth was that Mr. Field's visit to Lanthorne Abbey had not turned -out so successful as he had expected it to be. The interview with Judge -Simmons had given him the opportunity to call which he had so long and -vainly sought, and it was under pretext of seeing him once more that he -had set off that day. - -"I'll be certain to find them all in on Sunday afternoon," he meditated, -as he made his plans, "and as I know the judge is leaving to-morrow -early, it will only look neighbourly if I run over to give him a few -more tips about that mine before he goes." - -It was therefore a great disappointment to him to find that the earl was -not at home, it being his invariable custom to walk over to tea with his -mother every week, at the Dower House about two miles away, where she -had resided ever since his father's death. The countess too was absent, -so he was told, when he enquired for her. - -Only Judge Simmons was in, and his manner towards his visitor was -chilling, to say the least of it. Mr. Field could not get rid of the -impression that the American was trying to read him like some -enigmatical book, of which the title-page had given him a distaste. It -was with feelings of relief that he once more found himself leaning back -in his car, and speeding swiftly down the long avenue. - -"Queer fellow, that judge," he mused. "I was rather an idiot to run my -head against him unnecessarily. I'd sooner have his room than his -company any day." - -It was not till Julius came to say good-night that his father deigned to -take notice of him again. - -"Well, what have you been doing with yourself, my boy?" he said. "I've -hardly set eyes on you since morning. Been up to any mischief, eh?" - -"I wish I had," answered Julius, "but I've no such luck. It's awfully -dull, father, playing all alone." - -"Nonsense!" said Mr. Field. "You've got everything and more than any -sensible fellow can wish. I hope you've not been dangling after that -strange lad that I warned you against, Julius?" he added sharply, eyeing -the doleful face before him. - -"No," was the answer. "I haven't seen him again." - -"Good boy," said his father. "Keep yourself to yourself till you find -someone worthy of you. That's sound advice. Go to bed and sleep upon -it." - -As Julius lay that night restlessly tossing to and fro, did the angels -gaze in pity upon the poor ignorant child? - -"I know God saw, and God heard," he murmured to himself. "I believe -He's looking down at me now. I want to shut out His eye, but I can't. -I know He can see even in the dark." - -He covered his head with the bedclothes, but to his excited imagination -the eye seemed to pierce right down into his very heart. - -"I'll ask Mrs. Power how I can make God my Friend, so that I won't mind -Him watching me," he said at length. "I liked the story of the little -girl." - -Dwelling again in thought upon the simple incident with its happy -ending, the weary boy finally dropped off to sleep. - -Robin had knelt that evening as usual at his mother's knee, but when he -had finished his prayer, a dreamy look stole into his face, as if he was -thinking of some great and solemn thing. Madelaine waited quietly, -wondering what new revelation had come to her little son. - -"Mother," he said earnestly, "I'm so glad God can see _everything_, not -only the good things, but the bad too. I'm really _glad_ he sees the -bad." - -"Why is that, Robin?" enquired Madelaine. - -"Because then I'm sure that He won't leave one single sin behind when I -ask Him to 'Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow,'" replied the boy. -"I can't recollect them all, but if He has seen everything He will know -when the very last one is blotted out." - -"The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin, little Robin," -said his mother. "You can trust Him to complete His gracious work, for -He is able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by Him." - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *The Mysterious Packets* - - -It was not till Tuesday evening that Benjamin Green was in a fit -condition to visit his father again. He found the old man in bed, very -feeble and shaky, but determined as ever that no power on earth should -prevail on him to leave the homely roof which had sheltered him for so -long. - -"I daren't exactly carry him off as he is," thought Ben, after he had -tried every form of persuasion and threat which occurred to him. "If he -died on my hands upon the way I'd get into a pretty row, I suppose, -taking him out of his house against his will. They'd say I did it only -for the money. It's a pity I ever let on that I wanted it so much." - -He leant back in his chair with his hands thrust into his pockets, and -allowed his eyes to wander round the room. They lit upon his father's -desk, carefully laid out as the centre ornament on the top of the high -chest of drawers at the foot of the bed. - -"I wonder what he's got in there," the rascally son said to himself. -"I'll make a point of having a good hunt through it before long." - -"Father," he added aloud, "did Mr. Field put his offer in writing when -he promised you a hundred pounds for the cottage and the land?" - -"Maybe he did, and maybe he didn't," was the ambiguous reply. "It -matters not what he said or how he said it. Here I be and here I -remain, same as I have done all my life long. It's no use you or the -squire trying to make me change my mind, no manner of use, I tell you. -It's in this little room that I'll be when the call comes to go up -higher, and I'll bide here till it reaches me, and not trouble nobody -whiles I wait." - -Ben shrugged his shoulders impatiently as he rose to go. "I must see if -I can't make Mr. Field fork out the tin somehow," he muttered. "If I -wait till the house falls down, he may not see the fun of paying so much -for a field that will sooner or later follow suit. It won't be -difficult to find out if the proposal's in black and white, if only I -can get to the inside of that desk." - -As Ben issued from the door of the cottage he caught sight of someone -contemplating the scene from the top of the wooden stair which led to -the beach. He drew back into the shelter of the porch to watch the -stranger. - -"Seems to me as if that man's figure is familiar to me," he said. "I -wonder where I've seen him before. He appears mighty interested in the -place, the way he's staring so hard at everything. I wish I could get a -better view of his face." - -As he spoke, the man apparently finished his survey and commenced to -descend the steps to the shore. - -A minute later, Jenkins, the Farncourt footman, walked past the end of -the garden with some towels over his arm. Ben had struck up an -acquaintance with him during one of his not infrequent visits to "The -Bull," and he now hailed him from the door. - -"Who's that fellow that's just gone down there?" he asked, pointing his -thumb in the direction of the sea. "A thick-set man with a jerky sort -of walk, looking for all the world as if the whole place belonged to -him." - -Jenkins peeped down over the edge of the cliff. - -"Why, that's my governor!" he remarked, "old Tommy himself. As it -happens, the whole place does belong to him, barring your little house -here that he can't get." - -"Mr. Field!" exclaimed Ben, "Tommy, as you so respectfully call him. -Sounds very natural to me somehow." Suddenly he slapped his hand upon -his thigh. "Tommy Field!" he repeated. "Tommy Field! Of course I -remember now. Made his money in America, didn't he?" - -"Piles of it!" ejaculated the footman. "He's called 'the Silver King,' -he's so rich. But I must be off, or I'll get a wigging. He's going to -bathe this evening, and I've got his majesty's towels." - -For some time did Ben continue to lean over the garden gate after -Jenkins had left him. Judging from his preoccupied face his meditations -appeared to be profound and perplexing. And so indeed they were. - -His thoughts were far away, dwelling upon a scene very different to the -homely English landscape now before him. - -A vivid picture was being conjured up in his mind. The roar of a -mountain torrent seemed again to make subdued music in his ears, and he -could almost feel the night breeze which stirred the pine branches, as -they waved in the moonlight over a little wooden house which stood upon -the bank of the stream. Within the hut two men held converse by the -glimmer of an oil lamp suspended from the rough beams of the ceiling. -He seemed to be looking into the cunning, bloodshot eyes of one of the -speakers, as he leant forward to emphasize some remark. - -Ben laughed grimly as he recalled the scene, for the features were those -of Field, and in Field's companion he recognized himself. - -"It's strange we've not met again since that time," he soliloquized as -he puffed away at his pipe. "Never dreamt he'd get on in the world like -this. Mighty queer he was that night, I remember, though his tongue was -so glib. Rum thing altogether, now I come to think of it!" - -For some minutes Ben appeared to be lost in speculations too deep for -words. At last he gave a low chuckle. - -"Wonder now if I could work it?" he continued. "Sure enough I've got -precious little to go upon, but if I'm on the right tack and play my -cards well, I may be able to put the screw on somewhere. 'Conscience -makes cowards of us all,' and if there was anything fishy about it, -he'll know, even if I don't! At any rate it's well worth trying." - -When Jenkins returned with the towels about half an hour later, Ben -walked back with him a little way upon the road. - -"Seeing your master's so rich I suppose he's pestered with letters of -all sorts?" he said, "begging, and such-like?" - -"Crowds," replied the footman, "mostly circulars though, enough to light -a bonfire every week." - -"Does he ever get threatening letters, do you happen to know?" enquired -Ben, "from socialists for example, who hold it a sin to own more than -your neighbours do." - -"Not that I'm aware of," answered Jenkins, "but he doesn't do me the -honour of inviting me to share his correspondence, so you see I've no -means of judging." - -It was two days after the above conversation when Jenkins again joined -Ben as he was having his usual glass at the inn. - -"It's curious you should have asked me that question about the -socialists," he said, "for I do believe old Field got a warning from one -of them only this morning. He turned green enough for anything when he -read the letter." - -"What letter?" enquired Ben, carelessly. - -"Well," replied the footman, "I suppose strictly speaking it could -hardly be called one. I happened to be handing him something at the -table, and was standing just at his shoulder when he opened the -envelope, so of course I saw right enough what was in it. It was only -half a sheet of ordinary foolscap, and on it was pinned a piece of blue -paper of rather an unusual shade. There was nothing written on the blue -bit, but on the white was a sentence in large letters a blind man could -have read." - -"What was it?" asked Ben. "Anything about cross-bones and skulls? -Generally they begin that way." - -"No," answered Jenkins. "These were the words, and very harmless they -seemed to me--just this plain question-- - -"'WAS IT NOT WRITTEN ON PAPER OF THIS SHADE?'" - -"Was that all?" exclaimed Ben, "and yet Field turned green as he read -it!" - -"Green as a pea-pod," was the reply. "For a minute he stared at the -words as if he didn't quite take in their meaning, and then he just -crumpled the paper up quick and tossed it right into the fire. A good -shot he made too, so I didn't have the satisfaction of picking it out of -the grate afterwards. He looked up at me sharp, as if wondering could I -have seen anything, but I was gazing straight before me at the big -picture on the opposite wall, like the well-trained footman that I -am--so of course I saw nothing." - -"Queer," remarked Ben. "I wonder why he was so put out. It seems to me -that the words were simple enough." - -All that day Mr. Field was visibly upset. The mysterious missive of the -morning had evidently got upon his nerves, and he could settle down to -nothing. As the posts came in he scanned them anxiously, taking good -care to open his letters in the privacy of his own room. It was, -however, not till the end of the week that something else happened to -disturb him still further. - -"May I undo your parcels, dad?" asked Julius as he sat at breakfast with -his father. - -It was a special privilege accorded to the boy, to investigate the -numerous advertisement samples which poured in upon the wealthy owner of -Farncourt. Now it was a bottle of horse-liniment, or a dainty tin -containing some new style of food for pheasants--now a neat box of -super-fine cigarettes, or a packet of some special blend of tea--all -professing to be the very best and cheapest of their kind ever yet put -upon the market. It was an exciting occupation to cut the string and -discover the contents, and Julius never failed to find amusement in the -process. - -"Yes, yes," said his father impatiently, in answer to the boy's -question, as he gathered up his letters and went off to the study with -them. - -"Look what a very funny advertisement this is," said Julius, a few -minutes later, as he opened the study door. "Neither Jenkins nor I can -understand what it's meant for." - -He laid a narrow cardboard box before his father, in which reposed, on -cottonwool, a short wooden penholder, the end of which had been -evidently burnt off, as the blackened stump clearly testified. - -"There was only a scrap of paper besides, with one sentence on it," -continued Julius, as he read out the following words-- - -"'WAS IT NOT WRITTEN WITH A PEN LIKE THIS?'" - -Mr. Field started up and seized the slip from the boy. - -"Some wretched joke," he said, but Julius saw that his father's hand -trembled as he spoke. "I'll open my parcels for myself in the future. -It's scandalous that anyone should be subjected to vulgar pranks like -this. I'll inform the police if it goes on, and you can tell Jenkins -so, if it's true what you said about his having seen this silly hoax." - -There was only one very small parcel addressed to Mr. Field next -morning, which, being marked "private," excited Jenkins' curiosity to -the uttermost. - -This time no one but the owner saw the contents, for the study door was -locked when they were brought into the light of day. - -Only an old match-box, with one dead bee carefully enshrined, rewarded -Mr. Field's research, and he was apparently completely puzzled as to the -meaning of the strange consignment. - -"I see they've written 'to be continued in our next' on the top of the -box," he said, "so perhaps the answer to the riddle will come -to-morrow." - -His supposition was correct, for sure enough a postcard which seemed to -give the clue arrived by the very first mail. In one corner was -scribbled the word "continued," and in large capitals right across the -card were printed the four letters-- - - "WARE." - - -"A dead bee yesterday and a communication with 'ware' on it to-day," -meditated Mr. Field as he scrutinized the handwriting, "that can mean -nothing but 'beware,' I suppose, seeing that the two are intended to -supplement one another. The postmark is London, so there is not much -help in that. I might as well look for a needle in a haystack, as try -to track my correspondent through the post. Who can he be, and what -does he know, I wonder? I'd give a good deal to find out." - -His disquietude was not allayed by the receipt a day or so afterwards of -two more little matchboxes, each containing the corpse of another bee. -Hour after hour he mused on the possible explanation. - -"Surely it can't be a warning of death," he shuddered. "If so, why -should bees be chosen as a sign? It is more likely that they stand for -letters. Perhaps the initials of the man who sent them." - -Suddenly he started as an inspiration seemed to flash into his mind. -"Why, yes, of course that's it," he exclaimed. "I see it all now." - -His heart seemed to stand still for a moment, and a cold perspiration -broke out on his forehead. He sank down in his armchair, and covered his -eyes with his hand. - -"I wonder how much he knows," he said to himself. "If it's a question -of wanting money I shan't grudge it if only I can stop his mouth. It -won't be long, I expect, before I hear from him again." - -A week passed by and the tension on Mr. Field's nerves grew worse and -worse as each day brought no fresh light to bear upon the case. Jenkins -and the chauffeur had both given notice, unable to endure the -unreasonable behaviour of the master of the house. - -"Such tantrums as he goes into nowadays I never did see," bewailed the -footman to his chosen cronies in the village. "No wages will ever pay -for what I've had to put up with lately. You'd hardly believe it, but -yesterday he actually threw a plate at me and nearly cut my chin, and -all because there was a little spot of dust upon the rim. Catch me -staying to be murdered because of the carelessness of the kitchenmaid! -Not if I know it!" - -It seemed an unfortunate time for Ben Green to select, when he sent up a -note one evening offering to remove his father from his cottage, and to -make arrangements for the sale of the land, if the squire would kindly -let him know in writing the terms of the agreement. - -"What impudence!" exclaimed Mr. Field, as he read the demand, "as if I -would bind myself down on paper to anything of the kind. The old man -wouldn't budge when I made him the offer, fair and square, nearly a year -ago now, and I'm not going to renew it to this scamp of a son, who they -tell me has just returned to idle about the place like a vagabond. The -next gale will take the house down on to the beach, and the sea will -soon eat away the rest of their paltry field, so I'm not likely to pay -this ne'er-do-weel a hundred pounds for sitting by to see it go. Once -their little bit of land has disappeared I'll be careful to put -breakwaters along the shore to prevent the waves doing any further -damage to my own property, but the sooner that portion of the cliff -falls over the better for me." - -"Old Timothy's son says as he'll be much obliged if you could see him -for a few minutes," said Jenkins, who had stood meekly by during this -tirade. "There's something rather special he wants to say." - -"You may send him up then," replied Mr. Field grimly, "and I'll give him -a piece of my mind. I don't think he'll favour me with a second call, -once I've had my say." - -"You'll have a gay old time in there," whispered Jenkins as he ushered -Ben into the room. "I wouldn't be in your shoes for anything." - -The footman wondered at the strange smile which stole over Ben's face at -the words. "I expect I'll get on all right," was the reply. - -Vainly did Jenkins apply his eye and ear to the keyhole, hoping to catch -something of the interview within, but the apartment was a long one, and -the occupants were at the further end, so he had to retire baffled to -the hall. - -It would have edified him could he have seen what was taking place -inside. Mr. Field stood with his back to the fire, ready to let loose -the fury of his wrath upon the intruder, but as Ben advanced, the great -man's countenance suddenly changed. His jaw fell and his eyes glared -like some startled animal when an enemy is near. Ben walked quietly up -to him. - -"I suppose I'd better introduce myself as you don't seem exactly to -remember me. At any rate you don't give the warm sort of welcome an old -pal might expect. B. B., Blustering Ben, alias Benjamin Green, at your -service, sir." - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *Robin Hood's Lair* - - -Contrary to Mr. Field's expectations, this was not by any means Ben's -last visit to him. Sometimes he would be absent from the village for a -week at a time, but on his return no long period would elapse before he -presented himself again at Farncourt, and to the surprise of the -household, never failed to gain admittance to their master's presence. - -"Oh, I knew him in past days," was Ben's reply in answer to the many -questions which were addressed to him. "Why shouldn't a fellow -sometimes go up to have a chat with an old friend?" - -"It's plain enough those conversations don't agree with him then," was -the universal opinion. "He's getting so jumpy and nervous, not half the -man he was a little while ago." - -There was certainly something wrong with the Silver King. His double -chin was fast disappearing, and his waistcoat hung in loose folds, -instead of presenting the smooth expanse which had formerly been the -wearer's pride. His temper also did not improve as time went on, but -became shorter and shorter, until at last even his own son grew afraid -of him, and gave him as little of his company as was possible. - -"If only I had a better clue I'd drive the nail in harder," said Ben to -himself after one of his periodical absences, "as it is, however, I'm -apparently on the right tack, and if only I can get him to commit -himself a little further by letting out something more definite when -he's speaking to me, I may be able to bring him altogether to his knees. -I could of course make more public enquiries, but unfortunately I've not -got quite a clean sheet myself, and I might perhaps find that I'd made -it hot for Number One as well as for Mr. Thomas Algernon Field. -Besides, I shall probably squeeze a good deal more out of him by working -this little affair on my own hook than by letting someone else poach on -my preserves. Whatever it is that he's done, he's in a blue funk over -it, and would give anything to hush the matter up. I must just go -cautiously to work, and in the meanwhile it's extremely convenient to -have such a handy bank to draw on whenever I choose." - -Ben jingled some money between his fingers as he spoke, with evident -satisfaction, and puffed complacently at his cigar. - -"I wonder why he was in such a hurry to get me to sign the document that -night," he mused. "If I hadn't been half-seas over I'd have looked at it -closer, but as it is I haven't a notion what it was about, though I -remember well the colour of the paper, and the burnt penholder. He -hints darkly that I have let myself in for something that I'd be sorry -for once I was found out, but I can't help thinking that in that case he -would be in a worse position than me. Anyhow, if we're both in the same -boat it won't be to my advantage if I sink the craft by peaching to the -world. I'd better go on as I'm doing for the present and reap the -harvest I'm enjoying in consequence of his fears. I think I'll walk up -to Farncourt now, and give another twist to the screw. My last week in -town was a roaring one, and the sovereigns flew. It's fine fun to live -like a millionaire every now and then. - -"There's one other thing I can't understand," he added, as he wended his -way to the house of his victim. "Why did he look so pleased that same -night when he found the letter in old Wattie's coat as it was hanging on -the wall? He didn't know I was peeping at him when he took it out and -slipped it into his own pocket. I know it was only a few lines the boss -had written to his daughter, for he'd read it over to me that very -afternoon, and I was to post it when I went off next day. It surely -couldn't have had anything to do with the paper I signed? I wish I had -asked about it at the time." - -As he passed the lodge gates he met Julius hastening to the village. - -The voice of conscience, awakened in the boy's heart by the terrors of -the hours of darkness and the loneliness, had been stilled and silenced -when the morning light arose, and having once overstepped the bounds of -truth and obedience, it was easy to continue along the path of wrong. - -Two months had passed since that Sunday's talk. The new tutor from -Oxford had come and gone, peremptorily ordered out of the house by Mr. -Field, who could not brook the superior intellect and independent manner -of the young graduate. Thus the lad was left once more to his own -devices, and few were the days when he found it impossible to arrange a -meeting with his friend at Sea View Cottage. He had almost ceased to -look upon his disobedience as a sin, his only fear being that his father -would find him out at last. - -This morning he found Robin in a great state of excitement, brimful of -new ideas and plans. To the unimaginative Julius these continual -surprises were an unmixed delight. He never knew what new rôle he would -be expected to take up as he joined his comrade in his play. Sometimes -it was a knight in armour, going to rescue a captive princess, -represented perhaps by old Mother Sheppard or Mrs. Power. These, being -supposed to be under the spell of a magician, were naturally unwilling -to accompany their youthful deliverers to the shore. Sometimes he had -to represent a character in a favourite tale, but more often it was -Robin's history lesson which afforded the framework for some entrancing -game. - -"I'm so glad you've come, Julius," was the welcoming cry now as he -appeared at the door, "but what a pity your coat is grey. It's -fortunate my old jersey is green, for if I pull it down as low as I can, -it almost covers my knickers, and no one would naturally look at them -first." - -"Why shouldn't my coat be grey?" questioned Julius. "It's a very good -colour." - -"Because it should be _green_--Lincoln green," exclaimed Robin. "They -all had it. It was their sort of badge." - -"What badge?" asked Julius, altogether puzzled by the reply. - -"Oh, I forgot you hadn't heard," was Robin's rejoinder. "I've been -reading to-day in my history-book about Robin Hood. He was an outlaw--a -splendid one--who lived in the woods, and he and his followers were -always dressed in green, and had bows and arrows and hunted the king's -deer. I'll be Robin Hood, because of course it's my name, and will you -be one of my merry men, Julius?" - -"I don't think an outlaw is a nice kind of man," was the reply. "They -were generally hanged, weren't they?" - -"Robin Hood was a _good_ outlaw," responded Robin earnestly. "He used -to do all sorts of kind things to the poor, and they loved him and would -never tell where he was hid." - -"My coat has a greenish lining," remarked Julius. "Do you think if I -turned it inside out that it would do?" - -"Perhaps it would," answered Robin doubtfully. "I'll ask mother to lend -you her green scarf to tie round your waist, and we'll pretend it's all -that colour." - -This weighty matter arranged, the two boys sallied forth to the little -wood which lay at the back of the cottage. - -"The first thing to do is to find a cave, or some place to sleep in," -was the leader's order, "and then we'll have a look at the king's deer." - -"I'm sure there aren't any deer here," remarked Julius, "and if there -were, we'd get into a jolly row if we killed them." - -"There are lots of rabbits, and they'll do just as well," replied Robin -cheerfully. "Of course we won't kill them really, we'll only -make-believe they are dead." - -It was not long before an ideal site was found for the hiding-place of -the merry men. - -A high bank had been dug into long ago to obtain gravel, leaving a -hollow of about six feet square. Young saplings and briars had sprung -up all around making an arch of green above the level floor. Robin gave -a shout of triumph when he discovered the spot. - -"If we can drag some branches here to make a roof, it will be just like -a real house," he said. "We might make a wall in front with these stones -which are lying about, and only leave one little hole for the door, so -that it will be nice and warm inside, and nobody will be able to see us, -even if they pass quite near." - -It took longer than he had calculated to carry out the grand -idea--indeed for a whole week the king's deer were permitted to go -unmolested, Robin Hood and his follower being too busily engaged in -building operations to turn their thoughts to the chase. - -It was a proud day when Mrs. Power was invited to inspect the result of -the boys' labours. True, the wall was of such an unstable nature that -their guest had to be well warned not to lean even her hand against it, -in case it should fall. What did it matter that the stone part of it -only attained to about the height of Robin's elbow? The rest of it was -satisfactorily completed by a dilapidated wooden gate perched on the -top, and interwoven with fern and twigs, so as to form an impenetrable -screen from the outer world. An old rug had been suspended by its -corners across the top of the pit, making a grand roof when supplemented -by branches laid in thick layers above. Moss had been laboriously -collected from all parts of the wood wherewith to cover the floor, and -ferns were ingeniously planted in crannies in the sandy walls to make it -look more natural, Julius said. - -It was a glorious moment when the kettle at length boiled upon the -camp-fire kindled at the entrance, and still more delightful when Mrs. -Power and the two boys all squeezed inside the hut to enjoy smoked tea -in enamelled mugs, and regale themselves with ginger biscuits and -toffee. - -"You told us to get what we liked with the sixpence, mother," explained -Robin, "so Julius chose the toffee, and I took the biscuits." - -"It is hardly what I should have selected myself," answered Mrs. Power, -"but if it's what you like, I'm more than satisfied." - -"What do you think we ought to call the house?" asked Julius. "Robin -says 'The Outlaw's Castle' would be a good name, but I think it's a very -silly one, as we've no battlements or dungeons, not even a drawbridge." - -"Julius wanted to call it 'Farncourt Arbour,'" said Robin -contemptuously, "which would be simply awful." - -"What do you say to 'Robin Hood's Lair'?" suggested Mrs. Power. "I -believe that was really the name of one of his retreats." - -"It's better than 'Farncourt Arbour,'" responded Robin. "Let us call it -that." - -"I wish we had a cupboard for the mugs and the kettle," remarked Julius, -"but perhaps the tramps might find them and take them away. It does seem -a pity we can't sleep here, for I'm sure not a drop of rain would come -through the roof." - -"There is just one thing I shall bring to leave here always," said -Robin, "and that's the text I painted the first Sunday Julius was with -us. If you will lend me two of your long hat-pins, mother, I shall -stick it up on that smooth piece of the wall, so that if anyone did -happen to come in he would see it at once. It will make the inside of -the house quite bright and cheerful and much more home-like. And you -know, mother," he added shyly, "the words might do a poor tramp good." - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *The Tramp* - - -"Julius," said Robin in an awestruck voice a few days later, when they -met as usual at the entrance of the wood, "I do believe the tramp has -really come. You said you would be here at ten o'clock punctually, but -I waited and waited and you never turned up, so I thought you had -forgotten all about it and that I had better go on to the hut by myself. -When I had got quite close up to it I saw a boot sticking out of the -door, and it gave me such a fright, I simply scooted back into the road -again. I was jolly glad to see you coming along, I can tell you." - -"I thought you wanted a tramp to come," said Julius rather scornfully. -"The best thing we can do is to tell the policeman, and he'll send the -fellow about his business pretty quick. I call it cheek for a nasty -dirty beggar to go and rest in our nice house." - -"It looked quite a good boot," replied Robin, "not all over holes like -some of them have. Perhaps he's only a poor clean wanderer who wouldn't -do any harm." - -"Let us have another look," said Julius. "We needn't go very near." - -With much care and precaution the boys crept silently through the -undergrowth until they came in sight of Robin Hood's Lair, taking the -greatest pains to avoid treading on dead sticks or twigs, after the -manner of Red Indians tracking their prey. - -"There are two boots now," said Robin under his breath, "and they're -quite tidy, both of them. Perhaps he's not a tramp after all." - -As he spoke, there was a movement inside the hut, and a man emerged into -the open. The youthful spies crouched low among the bracken to watch -the intruder. - -He was a tall, well-knit figure, but with a droop in his shoulders which -told of ill-health and fatigue. His face bore out the same story, for -it was white and drawn as if with long suffering, and his somewhat -weather-worn clothes only emphasized the frailty of the form beneath. -His cap was off, and the sun glinted down upon his fair hair and short -well-trimmed beard, revealing a shapely head and thoughtful brow. - -"He's the nicest tramp I ever saw," remarked Julius, "but he looks -awfully ill." - -"I don't believe he's a beggar," rejoined Robin. "I expect he's just -someone come to stay at the village so as to get sea-air after having -been in a hospital. They often do that. He must be very poor, however, -for though he seems quite respectable, his coat is all patched and -frayed." - -The intruder had turned and was contemplating the architecture of the -hut with an amused countenance. He now replaced his cap and walked away -in an irresolute manner, as if he did not know exactly in which -direction to bend his steps. To the boys' dismay he finally bore down -straight towards their hiding-place. - -"Keep still, Julius," whispered Robin. "That's the way wild animals do -when danger is near. If we run, we're sure to be seen." - -Alas for his hopes! Wild animals do not usually wear clean white -collars, and in this instance two snowy spots gleamed clearly and -distinctly through the thick screen of fern. In another moment Robin -felt his arm suddenly seized, and glanced hastily up into the face that -bent above him, anxious to read his fate. - -It was a reassuring sight, for the blue eyes that looked down upon him -were full of sparkle, and a merry smile was stealing round the corners -of the mouth. - -"I'm afraid I've been trespassing," was his captor's remark, as he held -the boy with a firm but gentle grip, "and worse than -trespassing--actually taking possession of a man's house during his -absence and making use of it as if it were my own." - -Julius had bolted like a hare at the sight of his comrade's capture, but -seeing that a friendly conference was evidently taking place, he -gradually drew nearer to hear what was being said, being very careful, -nevertheless, to keep well out of harm's way. - -"I'm glad you used our house, sir," answered Robin, gaining confidence -by the kindly tone. "I hope you found it comfortable." - -"Most luxurious," responded the stranger. "Indeed I must confess to -having spent most of the night there. I fell asleep yesterday evening -on that delicious carpet of moss, and when I at last awoke it was -actually morning and broad daylight." - -"Were you really there all night?" exclaimed Robin delightedly, "just as -if it was a proper house! I rather wish it had rained a little though." - -"I'm very glad it didn't," was the reply. "I hardly think that is a -charitable desire of yours!" - -"I only mean that it would have been so jolly to hear the rain outside, -and yet to know you had such a good roof over your head that it couldn't -get through," explained Robin. - -"I am glad to learn that you had no worse motive than that for your -wish," laughed the stranger. "Now, my little chap, can you tell me -which direction I must take to get to the high-road, as I haven't had my -breakfast yet and I'm growing hungrier every moment. I don't want to go -back to the village, but to strike out for the next hamlet, as I'm -tramping to London and don't want to spend more time than I can help -upon the way." - -"You _are_ a tramp, then?" exclaimed Julius, who was now standing near, -"even though you haven't got holes in your boots." - -"Well, I suppose I am," was the reply. "Perhaps it would sound better if -you said I was on a walking tour. It comes to much the same thing." - -"I thought you were a poor man just arrived at Sunbury to get sea-air -after you had been ill," remarked Robin. "You looked so frightfully -thin." - -"A regular scarecrow!" said the stranger. "I congratulate you as well -as your friend on being right in your guesses. I _am_ a poor man and I -_have_ been ill, and I certainly had hoped to stay in Sunbury for a few -days to try and get up my strength a little; but I heard something at -the Bull Inn yesterday afternoon on my arrival which made me change my -mind and resolve to move on. I mustn't waste time talking, though, for -I'm getting quite faint for want of food, and must ask the next good -woman I meet to make me a cup of tea in her kitchen." - -His looks certainly corroborated his statement, for a deadly pallor had -overspread his countenance and he almost fell as he staggered up against -a tree. - -"I'm weaker than I thought," he murmured. "I wish I had gone on last -night instead of stopping here." - -"If you will wait a minute," said Robin eagerly, "I'll fetch you a glass -of milk and some biscuits. Mother always gives them to me for my lunch, -but I'd much rather you had them than me." - -"It's too bad to rob you of your lunch, my boy," was the grateful -answer, "but really I should be very glad of a bite. It would just help -me to get along. By the way," he called out as Robin was darting off, -"could you manage to bring the refreshments without letting everyone -know I'm here? I have particular reasons for asking. I'll tell you why -when you come back." - -"It will be quite easy," asseverated Robin. "I often eat my lunch in the -wood, so nobody will think it funny if I carry it away." - -Julius considered it wiser to accompany the messenger rather than remain -with the man, and many were the conjectures of the two boys as they went -together upon their quest. - -"I think he is in hiding from someone," said Robin, "and is afraid to -risk going into the village in case he is taken prisoner. I wish he was -a cavalier on some secret errand from the king. How splendid it would -be to help him in some glorious adventure like one reads about in -books!" - -"He's much more likely to be a fugitive from justice," replied the more -matter-of-fact Julius. "It's rather queer of him sleeping in Robin -Hood's Lair all night, and not wanting to go to Sunbury again. I've -half a mind to tell father about him and get him to send one of the -game-keepers round." - -"If you betray him I'll never play with you again! Never!" exclaimed -Robin indignantly. "It would be mean after he's trusted us like this. I -wouldn't have a traitor for my friend for anything, and that's what you -would be if you told!" - -When the pair returned to the house in the wood with a plentiful supply -of the promised food, they found the stranger almost in a state of -collapse. - -With the greatest difficulty they got him to swallow a little milk, -which revived him somewhat, so that with their assistance he was able at -length to regain the shelter of the hut. - -"I'll be all right soon," he said to them. "It's only my silly old -heart. I've let myself run down rather too much, that's all." - -To the boys' relief, in about twenty minutes he was able to sit up, and -partake sparingly of their provisions. - -"I'm afraid I must ask you to let me lodge another night in your -mansion," he said. "I don't think my legs would carry me far to-day." - -"Why don't you go to 'The Bull'?" asked Julius. "You'd be much more -comfortable in a bed. I know there is lots of room now, for the season -is over, and all the visitors have gone." - -"It was my intention to stay there when I came to Sunbury," was the -answer, "but I heard that somebody was now living in the neighbourhood -whom I would rather not meet again, and therefore as I did not wish him -to recognize me I thought it best to go away. I tried to take a short -cut through the wood which I remembered of old, but happening to come -across your little hut, it looked so inviting that I just stumbled in -and went to sleep. I never woke till you found me this morning." - -"We must go home to dinner now," remarked Robin, "and Julius won't be -able to come again, as he's got to go out with his father this -afternoon, but I'll look in later and see if I can bring you some more -food." - -"Keep my secret, then, like good boys," said the stranger. "I won't -harm anybody or anything, and I shall be off to-morrow by the break of -day, and not trouble either of you any more." - -Many a time it was on the tip of Julius' tongue to let fall some remark -about their strange guest, but the fear of losing Robin's fellowship -held him back. It is not nice to be called a "traitor," and the flash -in his friend's eyes when he said the word lingered unpleasantly in -Julius' memory. There was also the ever-haunting terror that his father -would discover the deception which he so consistently practised in utter -disregard to the parental commands. It was no feeling of honour that -checked the sentences as they rose to his lips, but dread of the -consequences which might perchance recoil upon himself. - -"I'm going to read to old Timothy this evening," said Mrs. Power to her -little son, "and may be out rather late, as I shall stop at the Vicarage -on my way back. You can take your supper when you like, as I shall not -be home in time to give it to you." - -Never before or after was Robin known to have such an abnormal appetite. -Fully half the loaf and the whole of the butter vanished as if by magic -from the table. He surprised Mother Sheppard also by a polite request -for cheese, and to her astonishment the whole piece was finished when -she came to clear away after Robin had left the room. - -"If that boy doesn't burst with the supper he's took to-night, my name's -not Jemima Ann," she exclaimed, "and every drop of the milk gone as I -heated specially, expecting as there would be a good cupful left for me -when he'd done. I'm blessed if the boy don't seem to have swallowed the -jug too. Anyhow it's disappeared as well as the milk." - -Robin in the meanwhile was curled up contentedly in a corner of the hut, -watching its inmate ravenously devour the supplies which he had so -successfully secured. A thick rug had also been obtained by the boy and -carried up in triumph to the Lair. The ground was still dry after an -exceptionally long hot summer, and the little bower certainly made an -excellent shelter with its firm sandy walls and mossy floor. Many -another wayfarer has been less comfortably lodged. - -"I don't think you can be a wicked man," remarked Robin, after a careful -scrutiny of the worn face before him, "but I wonder why you are so -anxious not to meet the other fellow you told us of. Perhaps it's he -who is the bad one, and not you." - -"No," answered the stranger, with a sad attempt at a smile which went to -Robin's heart. "I'm sorry to say that I'm the bad one, as you put it, -but I am thankful I needn't stop there. The sinner has been forgiven by -the grace of God, though the consequences of his sin on earth cannot be -rubbed out." - -"Then you're not afraid of that?" said Robin, nodding his head towards -the text on the wall. - -"I rejoice because of it," was the reply. "He Who knows all can forgive -all." - -The blue eyes gazed out into the tangle of wood, where the sun was -setting behind the interwoven branches, brown now with the touch of -coming whiter. - -"A great sinner needs a great Saviour," he murmured half to himself. -"Perhaps He can even help me to put right some of the wrong before the -end comes." - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *A Flash of Lightning* - - -When Robin awoke next morning he found that the weather had completely -changed during the night. Gusts of wind howled round the little cottage -and rattled the casement, as if angry foes sought admittance to his -room. From his bed he could hear the hollow boom of the waves upon the -shore, and the old apple-tree outside his window creaked and groaned as -it was forced to bend its aged limbs before the gale. - -His first thought was of the house in the wood and its mysterious -occupant. - -"I'll run up at once and see how the man has got on," he decided. "I -don't think it looks as if it had rained yet, and it's pretty sheltered -in the coppice, so I hope he has had a good night. I wonder if he is -still there, or if he went at break of day as he said he would." - -It was not long before he was peeping through the doorway of the little -hut, his hair blown like an aureole about his forehead and his cheeks -flushed by the buffeting of the wind. - -"Of such is the kingdom of heaven," were the words that rose -spontaneously to the stranger's lips as he glanced up at the fair vision -before him. - -"I'm not gone yet, Robin," he said as he held out his hand to the boy. -"I am afraid I must ask you to put up with me for a few hours longer. I -didn't feel quite up to an early start this morning." - -Robin flew to his side and took the thin fingers in his. - -"Of course you may stay here as long as you like," he replied. "I'm -only afraid there's a storm coming on, and if it's very bad the roof -might perhaps let in a little rain, supposing, you know, it came down in -torrents." - -The stranger smiled. "It's worth feeling ill to get another glimpse of -you, my boy," he said. "I must confess that the longing for it rather -weighed with me when I debated about my departure in the early dawn. I -shall have to start soon, however, so as to be sure to catch the evening -train to London, as it is hopeless to think of getting there on foot -after this attack. It is six miles to the station, isn't it, Robin?" - -"Six and a quarter," answered the lad, "and there are two hills on the -way." - -"I shall be lucky if I arrive there before midnight," was the reply, -"but I'll have a try, anyhow. Meanwhile, I've still got some of the -bread and butter you brought me last night, and a little milk in the -bottom of the jug, so I shall do very well. Don't you bother about me, -little chap. I'm used to roughing it a bit." - -"I will bring you my lunch again at eleven o'clock," said Robin, "but I -do wish you would let me tell mother about you, as she would know so -much better than I do what you ought to have. I promise you, honour -bright, that I wouldn't tell anyone else." - -"Not even mother," answered the stranger, "though I am sure she must be -a true and good woman who owns you as her son. God bless you both--if a -prayer from such as I can bring you a benediction." - -He watched the boy disappear among the trees, and then, turning over -with his face to the earth, he groaned aloud. - -"Oh, my God!" he exclaimed. "What might not have been! Truly the way -of transgressors is hard." - -There were traces of tears in his eyes when he at length rose and -proceeded languidly to finish the provisions lying beside him. - -"Julius, I want you to come with me to Westmarket to-day," said Mr. -Field as he sat at the breakfast-table that morning. "Be ready at -eleven o'clock sharp. A grand bazaar is being held there in aid of the -Town Hall, and no end of swells are to be present. The Countess of -Monfort is taking a great interest in the cause, and I must certainly -put in an appearance, or they might think it rude. Money is not a bad -thing, after all, and I have no doubt they will be glad enough to see -me, even though neither her ladyship nor the earl have taken the trouble -to return my call." - -"I don't want to go," was the sulky reply. "I hate bazaars, and swells, -and countesses, and it's beastly rot driving in the motor, with nothing -to do but to sit still." - -"Don't let me hear you speak like that again, Julius," said his father -sternly. "Those are my orders and it is your part to obey." - -"Couldn't you go a little later?" pleaded the boy. "Eleven o'clock is -so very early." - -It certainly was a little hard upon him, for he had set his heart on -going down to the wood immediately after breakfast. The tramp, as he -still called him, fascinated the lad strangely and he longed to find out -more about the lonely stranger. - -"The countess herself opens the bazaar at noon," replied his father, -"and we shall need all our time to get there before the ceremony. So not -a moment later shall I start. If you are not standing on the doorstep -waiting for me, it will be the worse for you." - -As Mr. Field left the apartment, Julius stamped his foot in impotent -anger. - -"It's too bad!" he exclaimed. "Why should I have to dress up like a -doll in my best clothes, and waste the day like that, when Robin is -allowed to run about in the wood just as he likes. I wonder if there -would be time for me to slip down before I have to get ready for the -car. There is just an hour. If I ran all the way I think I could do it. -I should like to see if the man is still there." - -Eleven o'clock came, and the motor was at the door. So was Mr. Field, -but no Julius. For five minutes there was ominous silence, as butler -and chauffeur stood motionless, awaiting their master's pleasure. - -"Drive on," said Mr. Field at length, as he flung himself into the car, -and the look on his face was not agreeable as he passed out of sight. - -"I'm sorry for the little fellow, even though he is such a spoilt -puppy," volunteered the footman who had come in Jenkins' place. "I -expect he'll catch it hot before the day is out." - -It was difficult for Mr. Field to regain his composure before he arrived -at the end of the drive. To be openly defied by his son in the presence -of his servants was an offence not to be lightly passed over. The -unctuous smile which illumined his features was forced and unnatural as -he officiously went up to the countess to congratulate her on the -success of her undertaking. - -"What an impossible man he is," she remarked later to a friend. "He -seems to have 'money' written all over him, and nothing else apparently -to recommend him to the world. I really am honestly grateful to him for -the way he is showering sovereigns about, but it doesn't make me any -more anxious to have him as my next-door neighbour. I shouldn't mind -his being uneducated or plain, some of the best of nature's gentlemen -are that--it's the pretentious vulgarity of the man I can't stand." - -Mr. Field fared no better with the earl. A few cold words of welcome in -response to the effusive greeting bestowed upon him by the millionaire, -and Lord Monfort turned away to escort a new-comer to his wife's stall. -It was pleasant, however, to feel that in spite of it all, he was -undoubtedly considered a person of importance at the sale. Fair ladies -crowded round to persuade him to buy absolutely useless things at -utterly exorbitant prices, and his circuit of the hall was a sort of -triumphal progress, delightful while it lasted, but leaving him somewhat -exhausted at the close. - -He had other business in Westmarket besides his social duties, which -detained him there some hours, but he returned to the bazaar to have a -cup of tea before leaving the town. He was resting comfortably in the -refreshment marquee, enjoying the band, when a sudden drop in the music -caused the voice of someone sitting at a distant table to resound -distinctly across the room. Mr. Field would not have noticed his -companions, had he not happened to look up hastily and so caught the eye -of a young man, one of the group, who was facing him. He recognized him -as the countess's nephew, and saw him give a quick sign to his friend to -cease speaking, but not before a few isolated remarks had reached the -listener's ear. He could not follow the whole sentence, but he was sure -he heard the name of Judge Simmons mentioned in connection with a -certain money affair. There was no doubt about the concluding -words--"distinctly shady"--for the band stopped suddenly as they were -uttered, and there was nothing to veil the unpleasant insinuation of the -phrase. - -"What possible reason could that young fellow have had in checking his -companion when he saw me, unless it was because I was the subject of -their conversation, and they did not want me to hear?" So he mused as -he absently stirred his tea. - -The band struck up once more, but to Mr. Field the music this time -sounded intolerably harsh and grating. The jingle of the tune set his -teeth on edge, and he felt he could endure it no longer. It was a -relief when the crowded hall was left behind, and he felt the cool air -again upon his brow. - -It was nearly four o'clock now and the day was closing in. Heavy clouds -were massed over the sea, looking black and thundery, and the dust blew -in fitful eddies around. - -"I think we're driving into a storm, sir," said the chauffeur. - -The simple words jarred strangely on Mr. Field. - -"Don't speak till you're spoken to," he snapped. "What you have got to -do is to attend to your business and not make remarks about the -weather." - -At that moment the motor reached a steep part of the last hill, -necessitating dropping into a lower gear. The chauffeur, irritated by -the uncourteous taunt, plied pedal and lever with quite uncalled-for -vehemence. There was a harsh grinding sound and the car stopped with a -sudden jerk. - -"It's no use, sir," he said, after a few moments tinkering at the -machinery. "The gears are jambed and she won't move an inch. I'm -afraid I'll have to get her towed home." - -"Not here a fortnight, and you've broken the car already," exclaimed Mr. -Field, his fury rising to boiling-point as he realized that he should -have to yield to the inevitable and walk ignominiously back to -Farncourt. "I give you warning on the spot, and no character; so you -may leave when you choose." - -Discarding his fur coat as too heavy, he turned his back on the damaged -vehicle and set out upon the way home. - -"Driving into a storm!" he repeated to himself as he plodded along the -road. "I only hope not. If I was superstitious I should call it a -horribly bad omen. Curious how nervous I feel to-day! It surely must -be something in the air. But bad gales have been weathered before now, -and I think I'm pretty safe, considering all things. I confess it was a -nasty shock when Ben Green first turned up, but he evidently knows very -little, or he would have had me in a hole long ago. There is no one -else I need fear. I fancied Simmons had a queer look in his eye that -day I saw him at the Abbey, but he's powerless to do any real harm. -Even if he raked up unpleasant questions about the papers, not a soul -was witness of what led up to it all. That is a secret known to no one -in the wide world but myself. The past is too deeply buried by this time -for any spectres to rise from the grave now." - -As he spoke, a peal of thunder reverberated forth, so unexpectedly that -it caused him to give an involuntary start. - -"I shall take the short cut through the wood," he said, "and I must be -quick about it, for it's looking rather bad all round." - -The sky was becoming more and more threatening every moment, and -darkness seemed to descend almost at once upon the land. Mr. Field -shivered as the air grew chill, and regretted the warm garment he had -left behind in the car. - -"I'm feeling out of sorts," he added. "Those silly remarks at the -bazaar upset me a good deal, though there is really no need for me to -mind. I wish, however, I hadn't come by the wood, especially as I seem -to have lost the right path, and wandered rather out of my way. It is -eerie all by myself in the gloom, with such a tempest brewing too. -Bother! There's the rain!" he exclaimed, as two or three big drops -splashed against his face. - -A flash of lightning lit up the sky, revealing to his anxious gaze the -rough hut which the boys had constructed with so much care, and which -stood only a few paces from the narrow track. - -"A woodman's shed, I suppose," he said. "I may as well take refuge -inside, for it looks as if there was going to be a regular deluge." - -He was right. Down came the rain, pattering loudly on the crisp autumn -leaves, first with a sort of measured beat, then more rapidly, as if -driven fiercely by an ever-compelling force from behind. Suddenly with a -mighty rush, it seemed as though the cloud had burst overhead, and -hissing torrents poured in straight unbroken lines from the clouds. - -The little house was empty, and Mr. Field stood looking out of the door, -while the lightning played about the tops of the trees, illuminating the -depths of the dark copse as with the brightness of day. His was not a -brave nature at the best, and the scene was terrific enough to strike -awe into the heart of a bolder man than he claimed to be. He withdrew -further into the shed, as the thunder continued to roll above him in -long deafening crashes. - -"Who is it says that thunder is the voice of the Almighty?" he muttered. -"It is in the Bible, I believe. It sounds awful enough for anything." - -Just then a flash of more than usually vivid character lit up the -interior of the shelter, and to Mr. Field's consternation, words of fire -appeared to blaze out before his eyes. For a moment, to his excited -imagination it seemed like the writing on the wall at Belshazzar's -feast. Could this be the Hand as well as the Voice of God? - -It was the text which Robin had pinned up inside the hut-- - -"THE EYES OF THE LORD ARE IN EVERY PLACE, BEHOLDING THE EVIL AND THE -GOOD." - -It came like a message from an unseen Power, an answer to the thoughts -which had so lately filled his mind, and the words burnt into his very -soul. - -"In every place--in every place. Beholding the evil--beholding the -evil." - -The sentence echoed through his brain until he could bear it no longer. - -"Will that verse never cease to haunt me?" he exclaimed. "Is there -truly a Witness in Heaven Who sees all--all--and Who can, when He wills, -bring even our hidden sins into the light?" - -He made as though he would leave the hut, when suddenly to his horrified -gaze, a second flash revealed a pale emaciated face peering in through -the door. - -With a loud cry, Mr. Field rushed at the opening, and with superhuman -strength hurled the apparition from him as he dashed past. - -A dark form fell heavily into the bushes, but he stayed not to see. -Scrambling, falling in the inky blackness, he at last gained the edge of -the wood--how, he never knew. Drenched to the skin and with his eyes -staring wildly before him, he reached his home. Speechless and -trembling, he passed his astonished butler on the stairs, and paused not -till he had locked himself into the safety of his own room. - -There, at length, he was able to regain his composure, and think more -calmly of the events of the preceding hour. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *The Treacherous Shore* - - -It was about seven o'clock when a tap came at Mr. Field's door. - -"Is that you, Burns?" was the response from within. "I am not feeling -very well this evening, so I shall not come downstairs to dinner. You -can bring me up something on a tray." - -"Very good, sir," replied the butler, "but I wanted to ask you about -master Julius. He has not been home all day, and we don't know where -he's gone." - -"Not been home all day," exclaimed Mr. Field, unlocking the door. -"Surely with a houseful of servants you might have looked better after -the boy than that." - -Burns was relieved to find that his master appeared more like himself -than when he had last encountered him, though still strangely perturbed, -as if he had recently undergone some severe shock. - -"Master Julius never turned up all the morning," answered Burns, "so we -came to the conclusion that you must have met him as you were going down -the drive, and taken him on with you to Westmarket. The chauffeur has -only now returned with the car, and he says master Julius never -accompanied you at all, so we thought it better to come and tell you at -once." - -Messengers were sent out to make enquiries whether the lad had been seen -by anyone during the day, but neither garden, stables, nor farm could -contribute even the slightest clue to his movements. - -Mr. Field was standing in the hall making arrangements to send -search-parties in other directions, when there was a ring at the bell, -and a lady was ushered in. She was dripping wet, and the light veil -over her head clung closely round her troubled and agitated face. - -"I must apologize for intruding in this manner," she said, "but I am -dreadfully anxious about my little boy. He and your son left me about -two o'clock, and I have seen neither of them since. I hoped he might -have taken shelter here from the storm, so I just came up to see." - -"It is Mrs. Power, sir, from Sea View Cottage," explained the butler, in -answer to Mr. Field's mystified look. "I believe master Julius often -goes to play with the young gentleman." - -"The impertinent rascal sets all my commands at defiance, it appears," -was the angry reply. "It is directly against my wishes, madam, that -Julius has made your acquaintance, and I have not the slightest notion -where either of the two lads have gone. Your son is certainly not here, -and neither is mine, for that matter." - -"It is a dreadful night for anybody to be out," said Mrs. Power. "I -could scarcely battle against the wind and rain as I came along. The -lightning has ceased, but there is a regular hurricane blowing from the -sea. Robin would not willingly keep me in suspense, as he knows how -disturbed I should be, and I can't help fearing some accident may have -happened to them both." - -All at once Mr. Field's heart seemed to well up with a sudden rush of -fatherly love, such as he had not experienced for years. He had allowed -such a thick crust of ambition and avarice to overgrow the softer -qualities of his character, that they had been well-nigh extinguished. - -"What would all my wealth be without my little lad?" was the thought -that flashed across him as Mrs. Power spoke, and an agony of -apprehension filled his mind. "We must rouse the place at once," he -said aloud, "and I will turn out all my men. Surely it can't be long -before we discover the runaways." - -The wood was thoroughly searched first, but with no result, and every -cottage in the village was applied to, but all in vain. - -Suddenly a sickening fear seized Mrs. Power. "Was it possible that they -could have gone upon the beach?" - -A brawny fisherman shrugged his shoulders hopelessly as he heard her -question. - -"We've thought of that before," he replied, "but we didn't like to -suggest it to you, m'am. Some of us have been along the top of the cliff -already, to see if we could make out anything. They're beyond help now -if they went there, poor little chaps." - -"Let us go to the shore," said Mrs. Power, but the men shook their heads -as they accompanied her upon her fruitless errand. - -The long wall of cliff which extended for so many miles towards the -south came to an abrupt termination near the hamlet, and a flat extent -of coast reached thence to the next headland. A narrow lane at right -angles to the sea, and bordered by high hedges, led direct to the beach -at the point where the cliff ended. So long as the search-party kept -within the comparative shelter of this lane, all went well, but when -they emerged from it, they were met by the full strength of the gale. - -The rain was over now, though the wind still raged with tempestuous -force. A full moon peeped out now and then through the rapidly driving -clouds, lighting up the wild expanse of waters which heaved and surged -in ceaseless turmoil as far as eye could reach. - -"Could the boys have been caught between the cliff and the sea?" gasped -Mrs. Power. "Shall we go a little way along the shore in case they may -have taken refuge somewhere, and are afraid to move on?" - -For answer one of the men pointed silently in the direction she had -indicated. - -It was enough--no words were needed to prove the impossibility of the -task. - -The moon gave sufficient light to show up the long dark line, at the -foot of which the yellow ribbon of sand was wont to lie. In its place -now tumbled a white mass of foaming waves. Here and there great -billows, lashed by the wind, would hurl themselves half-way up the steep -incline, breaking with thunderous noise upon the rampart which barred -their way, and sending up sheets of spray into the air, like the steam -from a boiling cauldron. - -Mrs. Power covered her face with her hands. - -"My boy!" she said. "Oh, my boy!" - -Unresisting, she allowed herself to be led back to the silent cottage, -where all that long dreary night she sat, a pale and broken-hearted -watcher, waiting with dread for the only tidings which it seemed -possible could reach her now. - -To understand what had happened to the boys, we must follow Julius as he -ran off to the wood on the morning of that long day. To do him justice -he had really meant to be back in time to go with his father in the car; -but an hour is short in the days of youth, and the time went all too -rapidly. - -He had just passed the lodge gates on his return when he heard the motor -approaching, and quick as thought he had hidden himself behind the -laurels at the entrance of the drive. His heart beat as he meditated on -the punishment which doubtless awaited him for his disobedience, but a -reckless feeling soon intervened. "In for a penny, in for a pound." He -knew his father was not to return till dusk, for he had heard him tell -the butler so, therefore he might as well have a jolly day before the -reckoning came. - -"I'll go back to Robin," he said, "and see if I can't do something -specially nice, as I needn't be home for ages." - -It was with rather forced merriment, however, that he joined in the -games, for an uncomfortable feeling would obtrude itself even in the -most exciting moments, that something was hanging over him which sooner -or later must be faced. - -Mrs. Power had asked him to stay for lunch, hearing that his father was -away for the day, and not knowing of the interdict which had been laid -upon the boy. - -"Let us go for a walk, Robin," said Julius afterwards, the restless mood -increasing as the day wore on. "The tide is coming in strong, and I -shouldn't wonder if we found some buckles and things washed up on the -beach. You know the fishermen pick up lots of treasures along the -shore." - -"Yes," answered Robin, "it is just like a fairy tale to hear of that -ancient city which once stood where the ocean now rolls. Old Timothy -has been telling me all about it--how there were churches, and streets, -and battlements there in the days of old, but the waves gradually ate -away the cliff, just as they are doing now, until one after another the -buildings fell into the sea, and the whole town was buried beneath the -water." - -"I know a man who got quite a number of things which had been washed -up," remarked Julius, "seals, with people's names on them, and rings, -and dear little bronze brooches, besides crowds of coins. Couldn't we -go and have a hunt now?" - -"I simply ache to find something," said Robin, "even if it is only an -old pin, but I'm not sure whether mother would like me to go without -her, as it is rather a dangerous beach when the tide is coming in." - -"We're not babies," answered Julius, "surely we can keep a look-out so -as to get back in plenty of time. Besides, we needn't go far. The man -told me that the best place to find the things is just under the ruined -church, and it won't take us ten minutes to walk there." - -"Well, if we only go a very little way," said Robin, "and come back when -the waves get at all near the cliff, I don't think there can be any -harm. Mother has never forbidden me to go, and I should like awfully to -find a brooch for her to wear." - -Did no friendly eye watch the two young figures as they wandered further -and further along the treacherous shore? Time and tide were forgotten -in the excitement of searching for the spoil. When at length the gloom -of the coming storm caused them to look up, to their distress, they saw -that the white line of breakers had almost closed the pathway of their -return. - -"Run, Julius," said Robin. "We may just do it, but the wind seems to be -driving the waves in fast, and there is not a minute to lose." - -Their feet sank in the loose pebbles and sand! as they hurried along, -impeding their progress so that the inflowing tide gained upon them -every moment. - -"I didn't know we had come so far," panted Julius. "I feel as if my -legs were made of lead. I don't think I can run any more." - -They glanced up at the cliff, hoping against hope that some way might -reveal itself by which they could scramble up its face, out of the -danger zone below, but the sheer and crumbling surface offered no -foothold. - -By this time some of the foremost waves were sweeping up in long cruel -rushes right across their track. It was only by waiting till they sank -back again and then making a dash before another came up, that the boys -were able to get on at all. Even then they were overtaken again and -again by the relentless waters, and had to wade as best they could -through the surf, the strong receding current threatening to carry them -off their feet into the sea. - -To add to their terror, the storm which had surprised Mr. Field, now -burst above their heads, and the crash of thunder drowned even the roar -of the breakers upon the beach. It suddenly grew so dark that they were -unable to distinguish anything more than a few yards away, and the rain -coming down in torrents soon completed the drenching which the waves had -begun. - -Just as they were about to give up in despair, Robin caught sight of a -feeble light glimmering upon the cliff above. - -"I do believe it is Timothy's cottage," he exclaimed, "and if so, we -must be quite near the stair. Yes, here it is, Julius, I am holding the -railing in my hand." - -In another moment two woebegone little objects were standing before the -old man's fire, too exhausted and miserable even to explain what had -brought them there in such a plight. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *Death and the Tide* - - -The grey dawn was creeping in through the windows of Sea View Cottage, -eclipsing the yellow glow of the lamp which had burned all night in the -little sitting-room. - -Madelaine rose from her chair and pulled up the blind. The wind had -abated somewhat, though a stiff breeze still blew from the sea. Dead -twigs and fallen leaves were littered over the lawn, and the plants in -the border were bent and broken from the effects of the late gale. A -great sheaf of white chrysanthemums lay prostrate on the ground just in -front of where she stood, the pure blossoms all draggled and smirched. - -"How Robin admired those flowers yesterday," she said to herself. "I -think I can see him now as he stood beside them, looking back at me with -his own bright, happy smile. Shall I never see him run to meet me -again--my precious little son!" - -As she spoke, she heard the click of the garden gate, and there, right -before her on the path, was Robin himself--a pale, rather dishevelled -Robin, it is true, but there was no doubt about the reality of the -sight. - -Madelaine felt almost delirious with joy as she held him in her arms, -and showered kisses upon his cheeks, his hands, his hair. She could -scarcely believe that the terrible dream of the night had passed away, -and that her treasure had been restored to her again. - -"Mother," he said, looking anxiously up into her face, "I wish you would -go to Julius. I'm sure he is very ill, he looks so funny, and he is -talking such nonsense too. I couldn't get him even to sit up." - -"Where is he, Robin, and what have you been doing with yourselves all -this time?" - -"I was afraid you'd be worrying about us," answered the boy. "I wanted -to come on to you at once, after we had got rested a little in the -cottage, but the wind was so bad, I really don't think I could have -walked along the cliff by myself, even if it had been daylight. Then my -clothes were so sopping wet, old Timothy made me take them off and get -into his bed. I was dreadfully tired, mother, and I fell asleep in -about a minute, and didn't wake up until it was morning." - -"Old Timothy!" repeated Mrs. Power. "Have you been in his house all -night, then?" - -"Yes," replied Robin, "but I don't think it's at all safe for him and -Julius to be there now. A great piece of the wall fell down just as it -began to get light. I rather fancy it was that which woke me. There is -only one end of the cottage left, and a big hole came in the ceiling of -the kitchen just as I was going out at the door." - -Mrs. Power rose to her feet. - -"I must go to the village at once and rouse the men," she said. "The -rest of the house may fall at any minute. Oh, Robin my boy, to think -what you have escaped! It makes me shudder, even to imagine it!" - -"It was nothing to the awful time we had upon the beach, before we got -into shelter," answered the child, "but I'll tell you all about it, -mother, after you come back. I do so want you to go and look at -Julius." - -Leaving Robin to be fed and cared for by Mrs. Sheppard, Madelaine Power -sallied forth without further delay. - -Only one or two were stirring in the hamlet at that early hour, but -among these she gladly recognized Benjamin Green as he opportunely -issued from "The Bull." He had wakened that morning with a strange -feeling of guilt upon his conscience. It seemed to lie like a heavy -burden, not to be easily shaken off. For a moment he was unable to -account for such an unwonted sensation, when suddenly recollection -returned to him, and leaping up, he hastily put on his clothes. - -"I ought to have gone last night," he said. "Such a storm as it was, and -poor old father all alone up there in that dangerous place!" - -Tardy thoughts of duty rose within his breast, and faint pulses of -filial affection, long passed away, began once more to make themselves -felt. He willingly joined Mrs. Power as with rapid steps she trod the -narrow path which led along the top of the cliff. - -The storm had passed away, but the sea still flung itself sullenly upon -the shore. As they neared the spot, Madelaine gave an exclamation of -distress. - -"Look what a huge piece of the crag has gone!" she said. "I thought -Robin was exaggerating when he told me half the cottage had fallen down, -but it is much worse than I expected." - -"It's a good thing the kitchen is at the landward end," remarked Ben. -"I see it is standing yet." - -They were soon at the little garden gate, but though it was wide open, -they found their way barred. It now hung uselessly over a great empty -gap, its broken rails flapping drearily in the wind. A long crack down -the middle of what remained of the house showed where the next slip -would probably come. The portion next the cliff had already given way -and the rafters were even now overhanging the edge. Some bricks from the -chimney loosened as they approached, and they heard them clatter down -the roof and fall with a dull thud on the beach below. - -"Surely father will not be against leaving the place now!" said Ben. -"If we get him out before the whole thing goes down, we shall be lucky." - -He vaulted over the low wall, and in a few strides had crossed the -garden plot. Mrs. Power scrambled after him and reached the door almost -as soon as he did. In spite of the peril and the ominous sounds of -sliding and cracking which surrounded them on every hand their steps -were arrested on the threshold. - -Old Timothy was lying asleep on his pillow as they entered, his white -hair scarcely whiter than his face. No sign of fear was on it, and he -seemed breathing as peacefully as a child upon its mother's arm. Beside -him in the bed lay Julius, flushed and feverish, moving his head -restlessly from side to side. - -As they stood, the first rays of the rising sun burst through the little -latticed window and shone full on the old man's face. He felt the glow -through his closed eyelids, and opened them with a startled glance. -Springing up in his bed, he stretched out his arms to the light, -apparently dazzled with the sudden brightness. - -"It is the glory of God!" he cried--and to Madelaine his homely features -seemed transfigured with a radiance that was divine. "It is the blessed -Angel of Death, and he has come to bear me up to the city of gold." - -Folding his hands as if in prayer, he closed his eyes and reverently -bowed his head. - -"I'm waiting, old friend," he said. "I'm waiting, and I'm wholly ready -to go." - -Suddenly the frail figure relaxed its tension and fell back upon the -pillow. - -"He's gone," whispered Ben. - -Madelaine went forward and gently smoothed his brow. "We can do no more -for him now," she said. - -"His poor body must not be left here," remarked Ben. "I shall take it -to some safer resting-place than this. If I carried him, do you think -that you would be able to manage the boy?" - -"Easily," replied Madelaine, as she gathered up the lad in her strong -motherly arms. Ben wrapped the still form of his father in a blanket -and followed her out of the room. - -Some fishermen had by this time arrived at the cottage and were standing -beside the garden fence. Gladly they relieved Mrs. Power and her -companion of their burdens and bore them away from the dangerous spot. - -They had not proceeded many yards, when a low rumble, growing louder as -they listened, caused them to turn quickly round in the direction whence -the sound came. - -All at once a noise like thunder smote upon their ears, and to their -horror they saw a long chasm yawn between them and the cottage wall. It -widened as they gazed, until with a crash, a great slice of the cliff -suddenly disappeared from before their eyes. Where the old house had so -lately stood, the edge of the cliff now cut straight across the -horizon--there was nothing to break the level line where earth joined -sky. - -"I'm glad father didn't see it go," said Ben. "It would have fairly -broken his heart. Queer fancies he used to take about some things!" - -"We need not mourn for him," replied Mrs. Power. "His faith has been -rewarded, and he has now a more enduring dwelling-place above. He was -quite right about his friends. The Tide has had its will in the end, -but the Angel of Death came for him first. Old Timothy has been -received into the eternal home, and has seen the glorious face of Him he -called 'The Best Friend of all.' Truly we could not wish him back." - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *Near Death's Door* - - -Leaving Ben and his comrades to continue their sad procession to the -village, Mrs. Power and one of the men made their way straight to -Farncourt, carrying little Julius with them. The boy was evidently very -ill, and quite unconscious of what was passing around him. - -It grieved Madelaine sorely when she had to give up her charge at the -door of the large comfortless house, where no mother awaited the child -to give him the gentle care he so much needed. - -"Of course he will have the best doctors and attendance in the kingdom, -and everything that money can provide," she said to herself as she -walked down the drive, "but something more is wanted than that. I can't -bear to think of that poor little fellow with no loving woman's face -bending over him to draw him back into life again." - -Certainly, as Madelaine had surmised, nothing was left untried which -skill could suggest or riches procure. A famous London physician was -summoned, regardless of cost, to the bedside of the child, and trained -nurses watched unceasingly day and night, combating the fever that -threatened to sap the strength from out the feeble frame. - -The horrors of that awful race against the tide, combined with the -drenching sustained both from sea and rain, proved almost more than the -boy's body and mind could withstand. Again and again he screamed aloud -in his terror, calling out that the waves had got hold of him, and -starting up in his bed, he would try to escape from the clutches of the -monsters he seemed always to have before his eyes, ready to seize him in -their deadly grasp. - -When at length the frenzy passed away and reason appeared to be -returning once more to the overwrought brain, the efforts of his -attendants were still baffled by a strange restlessness which took -possession of the little invalid and which all their care could not -dispel. - -"He is always repeating the same words," said the nurse in charge, to -Mr. Field, when he enquired anxiously for the boy. "I wonder whether -you could give me a clue to what he means, so that we might know how to -quiet him. Often in an illness of this sort the mind dwells on -something that took place immediately before the fever came on." - -"What are the words?" asked Mr. Field. - -"He is continually saying 'I want to make him my friend,'" answered the -nurse. "All last night he did nothing but moan out this one sentence. -It was quite pitiful to hear him, poor child." - -Mr. Field's heart smote him. "He was very disobedient the day of the -catastrophe," he said. "Perhaps he is still thinking of it, and is -afraid of my anger--I know I have sometimes been harsh with the boy. Do -you suppose if I went to him and told him it was all right, that the -fear would be allayed?" - -"It may be that," replied the nurse, "at any rate it is worth trying. -There, do you hear him?" she added, as they entered the darkened room -and advanced towards the small tossing figure on the bed. - -Vainly did the poor father stand at his son's side and assure him of his -love and forgiveness. The unnaturally bright eyes which were fixed upon -him softened with no answering light, and to his distress, the weak -voice took up once again its monotonous refrain. - -"Whom can he mean?" pondered Mr. Field. "I wonder if he wants the lad -who was with him that dreadful afternoon. I remember Burns told me they -had often played together. I forbade Julius ever to speak to him, but -if anyone could do my boy good, I should welcome him, even if he were a -chimney sweep." - -A polite note was at once written to Mrs. Power, requesting that Robin -might be allowed to come up to Farncourt, in the hope that his little -companion's presence might satisfy the restless longings of the child. - -A faint smile played over Julius' features as Robin entered the room, -and for a moment a gleam of recognition leapt into his eyes, but it soon -faded away, and the pathetic moan recommenced--the feverish limbs moving -wearily to and fro upon the couch. - -"If he could only get some sleep he would do well," remarked the nurse, -"but I fear his strength will not hold out if this goes on much longer." - -"We had hoped the sight of your little boy would have soothed Julius, -but it seems to have done no good," said Mr. Field, as he led Robin back -to the drawing-room, where Mrs. Power awaited his return. "We thought -he missed his playfellow, for he never ceases speaking of someone he -wants as his friend. If only we could find out what he desires, we -might manage to bring peace to his mind." - -"I know what he means," replied Madelaine with a sudden inspiration. -"If you will let me go up to him, I believe I shall be able to help." - -Gladly did the stricken father retrace his steps to the sick chamber, -and as Mrs. Power followed, her heart was lifted up in prayer to God -that she might be given the right words to say. Unhesitatingly she went -up to the bed and knelt beside the child. Taking his burning hands in -hers, she held them firmly as she looked into his face. - -"I want to make him my friend," reiterated the boy. - -"It is God Whom you want to make your Friend, is it not, little Julius?" -asked Madelaine. - -A relieved expression flashed across the sufferer's countenance as the -question seemed to reach him through the darkness of his delirium, and a -look of intelligence dawned in the poor anxious eyes. - -"Yes," he answered, "I want Him very much." - -"He is your Friend already, Julius," continued Mrs. Power. "He loved us -so much that He sent His Son to die for us. He has been your Friend all -along, Julius. It is you who have been running away from Him." - -"Do you mean God really wanted to be my Friend all along?" questioned -the boy earnestly. - -"Yes," replied Mrs. Power, "that is the comfort of it. Just say to -yourself, 'God loves me,' and ask Him to wash away your sins, and to -keep you for Jesus Christ's sake. Only a Friend can love, Julius, so -you need not be afraid of Him." - -"God loves me," repeated the child. "God loves me. He was my Friend -all along, only I didn't know." - -He closed his eyes contentedly, and nestled his head into the pillow. -Mrs. Power held his hands in hers for a few minutes longer, and then -gently laid them down upon the bed. "I think he is sleeping," she -whispered, as she rose to her feet. - -The nurse nodded silently with a pleased smile, and Madelaine -noiselessly left the room. - -Many an anxious hour was still to come as Julius slowly struggled back -to health and strength, but as the doctor said, it was to that sleep the -child owed his life. There were no more objections made by Mr. Field to -the intercourse between Farncourt and the dwellers in Sea View Cottage. -Every morning did Robin and his mother walk up to enquire for the -invalid, and as often as not, one or both of them stayed with him for -the rest of the day. Mr. Field indeed was not often present when Mrs. -Power sat with his son, but he would constantly join the two boys as -they played together, watching them as they made endless scrapbooks out -of old illustrated papers, or constructed wonderful models with bits of -wood and an unlimited supply of glue. - -The great London physician came no longer to look wisely over his -gold-rimmed spectacles at the now convalescent lad, but the village -doctor still made friendly visits, to the benefit of his patient as well -as of his own pocket. - -"We'll soon have you flying about as lively as ever," he said cheerily -to Julius during one of these calls. "You've got on quicker than the -other patient I was summoned to attend the same day that you got bowled -over." - -"Who was that?" asked Mrs. Power, who was standing near. "I had not -heard that any of the villagers were ill just now." - -"I know how good you are in going to see the sick ones," responded the -doctor, "and I longed to ask you to minister to this poor fellow, but -he's a queer self-contained mortal, and apparently prefers to be left to -himself. He is a stranger here--arrived the night of the storm--and -appeared, sopping wet and utterly tired out at Mrs. Potter's door, with -no luggage but a knapsack, being apparently upon some sort of walking -tour. She let him in out of pity, and he's been laid up at her house -ever since. It's the Mrs. Potter who lives on the high road just beyond -the wood. She's a good soul, and has done all she could for him, but -it's been a close shave, his getting through at all." - -The boys exchanged glances. - -"I expect it's the tramp," whispered Julius. "I'm glad he's got a real -bed to sleep in, and that he didn't have to stay in the hut while he was -ill." - -"Our nice house is all broken down now," replied Robin. "The rain of -that night beat it to pieces. The roof fell in, and the wall gave way, -and the moss floor got into a nasty sloppy mess. I looked for my text, -but I couldn't find it anywhere. I think it must have been completely -washed away." - -"I shouldn't be afraid of that text now," remarked Julius. "I have told -father all about my going to make Peter's hutch, and our house in the -wood, and our games and everything. He wasn't a bit angry, only sorry I -had deceived him so often. I'm not going to do sneaky things again, but -I'm jolly glad he doesn't mind me playing with you now, Robin." - -During the anguish of the first days of Julius' illness, Mr. Field's -thoughts were concentrated wholly upon his suffering boy, but as the -tension became relaxed and the child regained his vigour, the terrible -time which he had spent in the wood came back with full force and -vividness to his mind. - -"Could I have been mad for the moment?" he would ask himself again and -again. "First the words--and then the face! It was too awful. People -used to have visions in the old days--is it possible that they sometimes -come to men still?" - -He had never believed in ghosts, but he felt curiously nervous now as -the dusk gathered round, and to Burn's astonishment, gave orders that -the electric light was to be left on all night in the passages and hall. -It had never been his custom to wander much alone even within the -borders of his own property, but since that memorable evening he had -taken exercise only upon the terrace in front of the house, and when -obliged to go to Westmarket upon business, had motored in with the hood -up and the blinds drawn. - -"I have got bad neuralgia," he explained by way of excuse, "and the -glare hurts my eyes." - -"I wonder why he wants such an illumination at night then?" remarked the -butler. "I can't tell what's come to him lately. It seems almost as if -he were going crazy." - -Do what he could, Mr. Field was unable to banish the unpleasant -adventure from his thoughts. Night and day his mind was filled with -strange and terrifying questionings, which he sought to meet by -commonplace answers and logical explanations, but all in vain. - -"It must just have been some fellow seeking shelter from the rain, as I -was doing myself," he would argue. "There is no doubt there was an -extraordinary likeness, but it cannot be anything more. Probably if I -had seen the same face in broad daylight it would have had no effect -upon me, but that night my nerves were completely unhinged by the storm. -I wish I could get the dreadful death-look of those eyes out of my mind. -There is only one other face that would be worse to see again, and I -think I should go off my head altogether if that appeared to me in the -same manner as this one did. It is bad enough to be obliged to meet it -in my dreams." - -Once the thought crossed Mr. Field's brain that the apparition was some -prank of Ben's, another practical joke, based upon some shrewd -supposition, and perpetrated in order to extort more money out of the -apparently bottomless coffers of his prey. Some judicious questioning, -however, set his fears at rest in that quarter. - -"If Ben did know all, it would be far too good a lever not to make use -of against me, and he is not the man to hesitate to try it," Mr. Field -decided. "If he hasn't played his trump-card by this time, I don't -think he's got one in his hand at all. It's my belief that there is -more bluff than anything else in what he says, and if so, why should I -knuckle under to him every time he comes sponging on me as he does. I -have been far too weak with him in the past. I shall see what effect a -little firmness will have upon my gentleman. I don't so much mind -having to pay for what he knows, but I do draw the line at giving -anything for threats in the dark." - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *Pin-pricks and Pellets* - - -This change of front did not at all suit Benjamin Green, when he at last -realized that the worm had turned, and that his visits to Farncourt did -not produce the same golden results which they had been wont to do in -the past. Afraid to press the blackmailing process too far in case he -should find he was involved in unsuspected difficulties himself, his -thoughts reverted to what remained of his father's property, and his -ingenious mind set about devising means by which Mr. Field's ambition -could be turned to account. - -"There's a good piece of the land still left," he said, as he -contemplated the scene, "and it will be many a long day till the waves -claim it as they did the old house. I'll see what can be done in the -meanwhile to squeeze out of the squire that same hundred pounds which he -promised my father before he died." - -For a week or two after Timothy's cottage had disappeared it had been -unmitigated satisfaction to Mr. Field to gaze upon the view from his -dining-room windows. True, a portion of the coveted ground could still -be discerned through the gap in the little wood which intervened between -Farncourt and the shore--a gap which no amount of planting would fill up -for many years to come--but at least the human habitation was away which -had been such a vexation to the purse-proud man. - -There was nothing now to rouse his ire as he looked out upon the -prospect before him. The sky and sea were certainly beyond his reach, -but on earth, only the possessions of the master of Farncourt could be -seen. - -His feelings of irritation and disgust therefore can be imagined when, -one fine morning, on going as usual to the casement to enjoy the view, -he became aware of a tall flagstaff planted on the edge of the cliff, -just in the centre of the vista which he desired so much to ignore. - -It literally glittered in the glory of the whitest of white paint, and -to add to its conspicuousness a brilliant scarlet flag fluttered -tauntingly from it in the breeze. - -"I suppose it's some maliciousness on the part of that wretched Ben -Green," he exclaimed. "He threatened that he would get even with me -somehow, when I refused to give him what he asked for last time he was -here. This is even worse than the cottage! That flaring red thing -catches your eye wherever you look. He's hoisted it half-mast high too! -I wonder what he means by that? Sign of some misfortune of course, but -I don't see how he expects to bring it about. I'd like to go to law, -and take the fellow down a peg, but I daren't threaten him too much, or -he might retaliate by stirring up things I would rather let alone." - -The evening post brought him a few lines from Ben, coolly placing the -alternative before him of purchasing the land which he desired, but at -double the price originally offered to old Timothy. - -"The value of the property has risen since my father's death," wrote -Ben, "as I am in treaty with someone for whom I intend to erect business -premises thereon. This is absolutely the last chance for you to secure -it at this figure, for from to-day the sum I shall ask must necessarily -be considerably higher." - -"Ridiculous!" fumed Mr. Field. "I'm not going to be coerced into doing -things against my will. Double the price, indeed! He may whistle for -the two hundred pounds, but he'll not get them! As for the building -scheme, of course it's only a ruse to force me into giving him the -money. He can't bluff me into believing for a minute that anyone really -means to build on that crumbling cliff." - -It was a distinct shock to the millionaire when, a day or two later, he -noticed bricks of a particularly virulent hue being piled up beside the -flagstaff in full sight of his window. Apparently Ben was in earnest -this time, for almost before Mr. Field could realize the full extent of -the calamity, foundations had been laid, and the walls of a house rose -as if by magic upon the edge of the cliff. - -Such an erection too, as it was! Every morning he woke to find it even -more appalling than he had dreamed of in the night. When it was -finished, an ugly square dwelling stared him in the face. The bottom -half was built of red bricks, dotted here and there with yellow ones. -The top half consisted of yellow bricks, variegated with red. A couple -of long, unsightly chimneys stood like rabbit's ears at each end of the -roof, while two curtainless windows seemed to glare at him like bold, -unblinking eyes from either side of the gaudy emerald-green door. - -"Could anything be worse?" he groaned, as he went to bed one evening -after a long and dismal survey of the eyesore from the top of the tower. - -But worse was still to come. - -On the morrow when he rose as usual, and, drawn by a strange -fascination, went at once to gaze upon the torturing sight, he almost -choked with the mortification and fury which filled his breast. - -On the long, sloping roof of shiny slates were painted in huge white -letters the words-- - - LAUNDRY - WASHING DONE CHEAP - - -It was in vain for him to grind his teeth with rage; before the day was -out, lines of fluttering garments stretched from side to side across the -field, waving mocking hands, so it appeared to him as he gazed. - -As if this were not enough, a row of small wooden sheds presently sprang -up next the fence which bounded Ben's property upon the side nearest to -Farncourt. - -"Is he going to set up a zoological garden?" enquired Mr. Field -indignantly, as he watched while a pen of wire-netting was carefully -erected in front of each little hut. - -"No, sir, it's pigs," answered the butler solemnly. "A number of them -are on their way from Westmarket, I believe, and will arrive to-day." - -There was no doubt when the occupants of the styes took possession of -their new quarters. For two mortal hours did Mr. Field sit in misery, -listening to the squeals of the rebellious porkers as they were driven -into the meadow and hustled unceremoniously into their several -dwellings. Each squeak seemed to go through him like a knife, and he -shut himself up in his study, dreading to detect a smile upon the faces -of the servants to whom he knew his humiliation must be matter of -amusement, instead of the anguish which it certainly was to him. - -"Anything come besides pigs?" he asked Burns, when the butler entered -the room to enquire if there were letters for the post. - -"They do say as Benjamin Green has bought the grocer's donkey, which he -was parting with, owing to it's being such a nuisance to his neighbours, -sir," replied Burns. "Never ceases braying all night, so I was told. I -don't know if it's correct, but we'll soon find out for ourselves if -there's any truth in the story." - -It was not long before the authenticity of the report was confirmed. -That very evening the hours of darkness were made hideous by the -melancholy voice of the disconsolate ass, as he poured forth his woes -with discordant emphasis in the ears of the sympathetic pigs. - -"I suppose Ben thinks he'll pile it on until he makes me give in," said -Mr. Field to himself, as he paced up and down the terrace next morning. -"Rather than do that I'll sell Farncourt and take another place. A good -idea too! I wonder I never thought of it before. There is no doubt -people about here have given me the cold shoulder--those I should care -to meet, I mean--and I'm pretty well sick of it by this time. I shan't -be sorry to be rid of that ramrod of an earl and his stuck-up friends. -I saw there was a nice estate in Gloucestershire advertised for sale the -other day. I'll take a run over and see what it's like. Julius is -getting on well now, and I suppose I shall soon have to be thinking of -sending him to some good public school. It seems the right thing to do, -if he is to take his proper place in the world. I should be glad of a -pleasant neighbour or two, when he is gone, who would join me in a shoot -now and then, or come in sometimes to have a chat. It's rather -monotonous always going about by myself, and things are apt to get on -one's mind a bit." - -Mr. Field took a few more turns and then threw away his cigar. "I think -I'll go and have a pot at the pheasants before lunch," he said. "At any -rate, I'll get a little relief from the noise of that abominable donkey. -He seems to have a throat of iron, the way he goes on making that -everlasting row!" - -He went into the house and fetched his gun. He was rather proud of his -pheasants, having introduced a rare and much-talked-of breed into his -coverts. The worst was, that at present the birds were so tame they -afforded little more sport than would be enjoyed by shooting hens in a -farmyard. Accustomed as they were to the careful feeding and -supervision of the keepers, they knew little as yet of the murderous -power of the gun. - -On his way to the plantations, Mr. Field encountered his head man, whose -countenance wore an unwonted expression of gloom. - -"Hullo! What's the matter, Jones?" he enquired. "You look as if you'd -just swallowed a dose of poison." - -"It's not poison as is troubling me, sir," replied the gamekeeper -lugubriously. "It is nets as is doing the deadly work, and seeing they -make no noise, and usually leave no traces, it's a difficult job to lay -hands on him who spreads 'em." - -"What do you mean?" enquired his master. "Is anything wrong with the new -pheasants?" - -"That's just what it is, sir," was the reply. "I was on my way to tell -you about it now. I've been noticing for some time past that they were -disappearing, mysterious like, only I put it down to some of 'em having -been enticed over to the earl's preserves in yonder copse, seeing his -keeper is feeding his birds there too. But I found a bit of a net -yesterday, hanging on a bush, and footsteps near by, what made me -suspect there might be poachers about, doing business on their own -account, when I'm out of the way." - -"You have seen no one hanging about, have you, Jones?" asked Mr. Field. - -"No, sir," replied the man, "but they'd take good care to keep out of my -sight. I expect they scatter food in likely places in the woods, and -when the pheasants get to know where to come for it, they catch 'em in -nets, the silly things being as tame as bantams. A good price they'll -get for them too, seeing they're all the more valuable living than -dead." - -"Well, Jones, it's your duty to look after the game, and if poachers can -carry on their work under your very nose like that, it shows you're not -worth your salt. Get more men if you need them, to watch the place, but -don't let me hear of losses in this way again. I won't have my property -calmly stolen from me like this, so put your best foot foremost and stop -it at once." - -"Do you want me to come with you now, sir?" asked the crestfallen man. -"I see you've got your gun." - -"No," replied Mr. Field, "if I shoot anything I'll leave it behind the -wall near the gate, and you can send for it later. I'll probably only -take a look round this morning and see how things are for myself." - -"Everyone seems to be conspiring against me," he said to himself as he -continued his walk. "What's the use of so much money if I can't even -enjoy my own house and recreations without being imposed upon and -insulted by any impudent fellow who happens to come along." - -Meditating on his wrongs, Mr. Field entered the little copse, and -wandered aimlessly about for a few minutes, hoping to find some clue to -the mysterious thefts. Suddenly a great grey cat rushed across his path -and disappeared in a thick tangle of undergrowth, only three or four -yards away. - -"There's the poacher, if I'm not much mistaken!" he exclaimed, as he -raised his gun to his shoulder and hastily fired straight into the -bushes. "Missed him!" he added, as he caught sight of the grey form -fleeing madly away in the direction of the road. "Hope he got a little -peppering though, that will teach him not to come here again in a -hurry." - -Before long Mr. Field also left the shelter of the wood, and proceeded -homewards, his mind full of the Gloucestershire estate, to which he -inclined more and more as he pondered over its advantages. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *Alive from the Dead* - - -That evening Mrs. Power was walking along the road which bordered the -Farncourt preserves, when her attention was arrested by the sound of -groaning on the other side of the wall. For a moment her heart stood -still with fear, but she was not naturally timid, and the thought that -someone was in trouble urged her to make closer research. - -She turned in the direction whence the moans came, and peeped over into -the plantation. To her horror she saw a man lying on the ground, only a -few steps away from her, his face pale as death and streaked with blood. - -"I must go to him," she said to herself, "he looks as if he were dying -there, all alone in the wood." - -Climbing over the low wall, she soon reached his side. - -"Why, it's Ben Green!" she exclaimed in surprise. "How ever has he got -into this plight? I'm afraid he is badly hurt, poor fellow. He seems -quite unconscious, and I think his arm must be broken, it hangs so -limply from the shoulder." - -She wetted her handkerchief in the rivulet which ran through the -coppice, and wiped the stains from his face, then, binding the cool -bandage round his forehead, she rose to her feet and started off towards -the village. - -"The sooner I get help, the better," she decided. "I can't do him any -good by staying with him here." - -It was not long before the wounded man was carefully borne on a -stretcher to his room at "The Bull," and his injuries ascertained by the -doctor. - -"He has been badly shot," was the report. "It is a marvel he was not -killed on the spot. If one of the pellets had gone a quarter of an inch -more to one side, it would have penetrated the brain. As it is, he is -suffering from shock and loss of blood, besides the injury to the arm, -which was evidently caused by a fall." - -Tongues were let loose that evening in the little hamlet, as conjectures -and suggestions were freely bandied to and fro. - -"I must say it looks queer," remarked Jones, the keeper, as he discussed -the situation with a knot of men at the public-house door. "The squire -goes to that there wood in the morning with his gun, and refuses to let -me come with him, as would only have been natural, for to pick up the -birds. Mrs. Power she finds a man shot in that very wood a few hours -later, and as all here know, there was no one whom Mr. Field would -sooner see put out of the way than this same identical victim. He was -in a fine temper when I met him, and it's my belief he has had more to -do with this affair than he would care to tell." - -It was in vain that Mr. Field disclaimed any knowledge of the matter -when the constable went up to interview him next morning. The story of -the grey cat was scoffed at by the village in general as being an -entirely inadequate explanation of the accident, and public feeling -waxed more and more indignant against him. - -The condition of the patient had improved during the night, and a -gradual return to consciousness was apparent as the hours went by. Mrs. -Power had constituted herself his nurse for the present, there being no -one else available who was competent to undertake such a task. - -Meanwhile Mr. Field's sensations were not enviable as he waited in -feverish anxiety for tidings from the sick man's room. - -"If he dies, I'm done for," he said, "for there are no witnesses, and I -can't deny that appearances are dead against me, however I may seek to -disclaim the deed. Even if he lives, how do I know that he will speak -the truth about it? He's got an opportunity now of ruining me -altogether, if he chooses only to say the word." - -It was not till late afternoon that Mrs. Power, on glancing up from her -chair, noticed that the invalid had opened his eyes, and was gazing at -her with a puzzled look. She went to him and administered a few -spoonfuls of the beef-tea which she had ready on the hob. - -"Just lie still and try to go to sleep," she said. "You'll get on all -right now." - -For an hour or more he lay silent, and the watcher thought that he -dozed, but she was suddenly startled by a voice from the bed. - -"I've been down to the very gates of death, haven't I?" was the -unexpected question. - -"Yes," she replied, "but they are not going to open to you this time, I -think. You have turned the corner now, and we expect to have you well -again in no time." - -"I shouldn't have been ready to go through if they had opened," said -Ben, ignoring her remark. "They would have been black gates to me, not -the golden ones my poor old father saw." - -Afraid of exciting her patient, Mrs. Power did not answer, hoping that -sleep would come to quiet the troubled brain, but after a few moments' -pause Ben began again-- - -"When the doctor came this afternoon I know you all thought I was -unconscious, but I heard him say, 'Field's got a bad case against him,' -as he left the room. I was jolly glad at first, for I'd been wanting to -have a handle against him for a long time past. However, when a man's -on the brink of the grave, he's bound to think a bit, so I feel I ought -to speak up. It certainly was Field who shot me, but he didn't know I -was there. I was putting down food for the pheasants, the plantation -being a grand place for poaching, and I hid in the bushes as he came by. -He fired at a cat, but he got me instead. I was stunned for a while, -and then only managed to stagger to the wall, hoping someone would find -me as they passed along the road. I thought I was done for when I fell -again in the wood." - -"Do you want to make this known?" asked Mrs. Power. "Suspicions have -been very rife in Mr. Field's direction, everyone knowing that he had a -grudge against you." - -"Yes," answered Ben slowly, "I want to make it known. I've had a hard -fight inside me this last hour, when you believed I was asleep. I felt -I had him at my mercy, and at first I determined that I wouldn't lift up -my little finger to help him, knowing that if I died he would probably -have to swing for me. It's a solemn thing, though, to know for certain -that God is just on the other side of those gates, and that if they open -for you, you will have to face Him right there by yourself, and that His -holy eyes will search you through and through. Well, somehow things -look different when it comes to that, and if I should die I dare not -meet Him with a black thought like that in my heart. So I shall be glad -if you will tell them all that it was entirely my fault and not Mr. -Field's. I had no business to be there at all." - -In the presence of the landlord, Mrs. Power took down the statement, -which, with much difficulty, Ben managed to sign, after which he sank -back upon the pillow, wearied with the exertion, and soon fell into a -calm and restful sleep. - -During the days which followed, many a long talk had Ben with his kind -and patient nurse. The man's heart was softened by the danger which he -had so lately passed through, and his ears were attentive as she sought -to lead him to the One his father had known and trusted so well. - -"I should like to make my peace with God," was his cry, "but I've sinned -against Him all my life and I'm ashamed to come to Him now." - -"Nevertheless you may be quite sure of a welcome," replied Mrs. Power. -"The wonder is that it is _He_ Who invites us to make peace with -Him--not we who have to wring forgiveness from an unwilling God. He -actually pleads with us to come to Him. Listen to what St. Paul says, -Ben, 'Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech -you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.'" - -"To think of God beseeching us to come to Him," said Ben, "when we have -neglected Him so long! It seems too good to be true!" - -"It is only through our Lord Jesus Christ that we can come to Him," -answered Mrs. Power. "It is He Who has made it possible for God to -forgive. 'He hath made Him to be sin for us, Who knew no sin, that we -might be made the righteousness of God in Him.' You remember the old -hymn-- - - "I lay my sins on Jesus, - The spotless Lamb of God; - He bears them all, and frees us - From the accursed load." - - -"But the choice must be made," added Mrs. Power solemnly. "If we keep -our sins we lose our souls." - -"I would choose Christ," said Ben. "Isn't there a verse that says, -'What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose -his own soul?' I see it all clear now, and I thank Him for having -opened up the way for me to come to God. I should like to serve Him, -with His help, during what remains to me of my life, if He'll spare me -for a little while yet." - -"'Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered,'" -was Mrs. Power's rejoinder. "There are no regrets for those who enter -the service of God." - -It was after this conversation, as Madelaine was walking back to Sea -View Cottage in the evening light, that she began to turn her thoughts -to the prospects which lay before her and her boy. She had not intended -staying so long at Sunbury, having purposed only to remain for the -autumn months. Julius' illness, however, had delayed her for a few -weeks, and Ben's accident had caused her to postpone her departure still -further. Both invalids being now well on the road to recovery, she felt -the time had come to bring the quiet country visit to a close. - -"If I could only get a few pupils and set up a small school, I might be -able to put aside something towards Robin's future," she said. "He -ought to go eventually to some sort of college, whatever profession he -takes up, and where the fees are to come from, I don't know." - -As she walked up the garden path, she saw that the lamp had been lit in -the parlour, and that Robin was already busily engaged at tea. The -blind had not been drawn down, so that she could distinguish everything -plainly. - -"Why, he's got a visitor, the monkey!" she exclaimed. "I wonder who it -is that he has invited to keep him company during my absence. 'When the -cat's away, the mice do play,' I suppose." - -A man was sitting with his back to the window, so that it was impossible -for Mrs. Power to recognize him from where she stood, but whoever it -was, she noticed that Robin was carrying on a most animated conversation -with his guest. It appeared also of an amusing character, for presently -the stranger threw himself back in his chair, and a merry laugh rang -through the room. - -Madelaine started and the posts of the porch seemed to sway backwards -and forwards in front of her, as a film came suddenly before her eyes. -She pulled herself together and put up her hand as if to thrust the -dizzy feeling from her, then with knees trembling and palpitating heart, -she walked into the little passage and threw open the parlour door. - -The visitor rose with an embarrassed air, and stood grasping the back of -a chair as he turned to meet her. - -"It's only a tramp I've made friends with, mother," said Robin. "He has -come to say good-bye, and I knew you wouldn't mind me asking him to stay -to tea as you were out." - -"Madelaine!--my own Madelaine!" ejaculated the stranger with a dazed -look upon his pale face. "Is it possible--or am I dreaming?" - -"Gerald!--my husband!" was the answering cry, as Madelaine threw herself -into his outstretched arms. "Oh, thank God that I have got you again!" - -In mute astonishment Robin watched the reunited pair, till the first -ecstasy of the unexpected meeting was past, and they could turn to him -with explanations of the strange scene. - -"Come and welcome your father, Robin," was Madelaine's joyful -exclamation, as she put out her hand to the boy. "This is indeed a -wonderful day for us. Our lost one has been given back to us as from -the dead. How, I do not know. It is enough to feel that he is here." - -She raised her eyes, brimming with love and tenderness, to feast her -gaze once more upon her husband's countenance, clinging closely to him -the while, as if she feared some unseen power would spirit him away. - -She was startled to see the spasm of pain which passed over his features -at her words, while a deep groan escaped his lips. - -"Gerald!" she exclaimed, "what is wrong? You look so ill, and as if -something dreadful had happened. What can anything matter so long as we -are together again?" - -"My darling," said Gerald, with lips that trembled in spite of the -effort he made to obtain command over himself, "how can I spoil the joy -of this blessed reunion by bringing fresh pain to your dear true heart? -And yet I must speak, and tell you all. Madelaine, it had been better -for us if we had never met again. Far happier for you would it be if I -were really dead, for we must part again, beloved, and that at once. I -must still remain to you as one whose name is blotted out of the book of -life. To recall me to the world would only mean anguish untold both to -you and the boy." - -"If you think I am going to let you go, Gerald, now that I have got you -again, you are very much mistaken," said Madelaine resolutely. "'Where -thou goest I will go,' and no arguments will ever shake my -determination. Surely my right place is at my husband's side?" - -"You were always braver than I, Madelaine," replied Gerald, "but when -you hear all, you may not feel the same towards me as you once did. Let -the boy go while I make a clean breast of the past, and then you will be -more able to judge of how you will behave in regard to me in the -future." - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *For Conscience' Sake* - - -As Robin left the room, Gerald disengaged himself from his wife's -embrace, and stood upon the hearthrug, his two hands extended towards -her. - -"Madelaine," he said, and his voice sounded harsh with pain as he spoke, -"I shall not keep you in suspense, but tell you the whole terrible truth -at once. Look at your husband's hands, and then turn away if you will. -They are not fit to touch a hair of your head. The curse of Cain is -upon them, for they are guilty--stained with the life-blood of a -fellow-man." - -Madelaine gave a little gasp of horror. - -"It simply can't be true!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Gerald, I can't believe -it. You never could have done such a thing. You, so good and gentle! -It must all be some ghastly mistake!" - -"It is true, Madelaine, sadly and woefully true," replied Gerald. "I -saw him lying there with his poor eyes all glazed and dim. He was an -old man too, and had done me no harm. I had no grudge against him, -indeed I was his guest at the time when I gave the fatal blow. The awful -fact remains that in a fit of drunken rage,--for which God forgive -me,--I killed old Wattie, the miner, in his little shanty on the banks -of a Californian stream." - -Madelaine covered her face with her hands as if to shut out some -dreadful sight, and sank down on her knees beside the table. - -"O God, forgive him, for he knew not what he did," she moaned. "Oh, lay -not this sin to his charge." - -"You are right in saying that I did not know how the dastardly deed was -done," replied her husband. "It was not till I came to my senses again -that I was told what the consequences of my act had been. You remember, -Madelaine, that drink had never been my temptation, and it was rarely -that I joined with others even in a friendly glass. I think the liquor -I took in old Wattie's hut must have been singularly fiery, for I have -never been overcome in the same way, either before or since. Indeed -from that day to this, no drop of strong drink has passed my lips. I -don't say this to excuse myself, for I am fully aware that there is no -sort of palliation for my sin. I would only have you know, Madelaine, -that it was unwittingly done, and gladly would I have given my life to -see vitality come back to those powerless limbs again. I helped to -carry him into the little room behind, and laid him on his bed. He -looked so white and still, as we left him there alone." - -"Oh, my husband, why did you not tell me this before," asked Madelaine. -"Surely you might have trusted me to understand? Why did you leave me -without a word, making me think that you were dead?" - -"Because I was a coward," answered Gerald. "I dared not face the -consequences of my rash act. I could not have met you without telling -you all, and I thought it was the better way both for you and me if I -simply disappeared from your sight, making no explanation or excuse. It -seemed to me that it would be easier for you to hear the news of my -death, than to carry the burden of my crime. I pictured your grief, and -thought of the innocent babe who might be branded all his days as the -son of a common felon. I tried to end my life that same dark night in -the river that flowed so swiftly only a few paces from the door. God in -His mercy had other plans for me, unprepared as I was then for coming -into His presence, and frustrated the deed which would only have added -to the weight of guilt which I already bore. I was cast up on the bank -some way down the stream, only to submerge myself in the scarcely less -terrible depths of a friendless world, for I had not strength of mind to -repeat the attempt to take away my life." - -Madelaine's face was still buried in her hands as she knelt on silently, -but Gerald could see that her frame was shaken by an agony of weeping, -while she listened to the sad and shameful tale. It was only with a -mighty effort that he was able to continue. - -"There was another reason why I did not tell you all this before. I -feared to lose your love, Madelaine, if you ever came to a knowledge of -the truth. I felt that I could bear anything rather than your scorn and -shrinking, and I knew only too well how richly I deserved such treatment -at your hands. A friend who was witness when old Wattie fell, promised -to write and tell you how I met my end. He was to say nothing of what -had gone before, only to give you to understand that I had been drowned -in some far-off river in the west." - -"Yes," sobbed Madelaine, "that is what I heard. How could anyone be so -cruel as to send such false tidings to me, when you were still alive?" - -"He only told you what he believed to be true," answered Gerald. "He -saw me swept away by the rushing current, and in a few moments I was out -of his sight, lost in the grey gloom of the early dawn. He never -imagined that I escaped, and I took good care not to tell him, desiring -that all trace of me should be lost. I feared that he might give -information against me if I turned up again, knowing as he well did that -death in some form was only my due. I am glad however that he fulfilled -his promise, so that at least you were not kept in suspense as to what -had become of me." - -"Oh, Gerald, why did you not send for me to join you, when you knew that -you would have after all to face life with this dreadful weight upon -you?" said Madelaine with a pained look in her honest eyes, as she rose -at last from her knees and stood beside her husband. "Why did you not -at least give me the option of bearing it with you?" - -"I could not ask you to share such a dark future, dear one," replied -Gerald. "My life for the last ten years has been a hideous nightmare, a -constant dread of discovery and of the punishment which would inevitably -follow. You were far better without me in your innocent ignorance of -what had come to pass. Now, Madelaine, there is my confession. I have -kept nothing back. The best thing you can do is to let me pass out of -your life again, so that you and Robin may continue your quiet way in -peace and honour. Even though it tear my heart out to leave you, it is -the least atonement I can make for what I have done." - -Madelaine stood for a moment looking up into her husband's face, then -putting both her hands into his, she said softly-- - -"'For better, for worse,' Gerald. I am your wife, and nothing shall -ever part us again. Robin and I will go with you to begin over again in -some quiet corner, where we may yet be happy together through the -blessing of God." - -"The blessing of God?" questioned Gerald with a sharp note of anguish in -his tone, as he put his arms round his wife, and fondly kissed her -cheek. "Before I can look for that, I have yet to speak to you of the -future, and I must put your love to a still harder test. You are indeed -a faithful comrade and a brave, true soul, and you must help me to be -strong, for sorely do I need courage. What I have now before me was bad -enough to contemplate yesterday, but it is well-nigh unbearable since I -have found you and my little son again." - -"What can be worse than that which you have already told me?" asked -Madelaine anxiously. "Be quick and let me hear what it is, so that I may -know what I have still to face." - -"Sit down beside me," said her husband, "and listen as patiently as you -can, for the sequel to my crime is a long story and hard to tell." - -It was indeed a pitiful tale that Gerald Barker unfolded in his wife's -ears. - -Cut off though he had been by his own hand from the old life, his heart -yet hungered for news of those he loved, and many a time had he sought -to gain tidings of them in the past. Hampered, however, as he was by -the continual fear of detection, it was only under a feigned name and by -circuitous ways that he could prosecute his search. He told Madelaine -how, some months after the tragedy, he had written to the postmaster of -the little Canadian town where last their home had been, to find out if -she and the child were still in the same place where he had said -farewell to them in his departure upon the ill-fated journey. The reply -came that so far as the official was aware, they had sailed for England -a short time before, leaving no address nor any indication as to their -final destination. - -Believing that his wife would probably return to her former haunts, he -made further enquiries in the secluded Hertfordshire village where her -father had so long practised as doctor to the countryside. Once again -came the disheartening answer that information concerning her could not -be supplied, no one of the name of Barker being resident in the -neighbourhood. - -"Why, of course not!" exclaimed Madelaine. "The postmaster there was a -new man, and had only heard of me as Mrs. Power, so he would not -recognize me as the same person about whom you were asking. I must tell -you how the change came about, for I have something to confess to you, -Gerald, something which I must ask you to forgive. I do hope you will -not think I did wrong, but truly it was a difficult matter to decide." - -"You did perfectly right, Madelaine," replied her husband, when he had -heard the story of the generous friend who was raised up so opportunely -to care for the helpless ones he had himself deserted in their need. "I -am only thankful that you did not suffer more from my selfish cowardice. -It has been misery to me to think what you might be enduring, and I -powerless to make amends. During all my wanderings I have tried to put -by small sums from time to time, hoping that one day I might find out -your retreat, and be able to make life easier for you, anonymously at -least, even if I were unable to reveal myself as your rightful provider -and guard." - -It was in furtherance of this desire that Gerald had at length taken the -voyage to England, trusting that the ten long years which had passed had -so effectually altered his appearance, that he could safely revisit the -scenes where he might most probably hear news of those he had lost. A -morbid terror of recognition had by this time fastened upon him, -becoming a second nature, so that he could not easily associate with -other men. Thus all his enquiries had ended in disappointment and -failure, being only addressed to strangers who would naturally be unable -to give him the personal clue which he sought. - -"I went as a last chance to Norwich," he said, "knowing that you had a -relative there who might help, but I found that he was dead, and his -wife also, so that hope fell to the ground. By this time I was quite -worn out by privation and anxiety, so that my heart got affected, and I -had such a bad attack that I was obliged to go into hospital for some -weeks. It was there that the change came, and I saw my life in the -light of Heaven. I realized that I had sinned not only against man but -against God. As I lay upon what might have been my death-bed, I made a -solemn vow that if I was spared I would go back to California, and give -myself up to justice, so as to atone as far as I could for what I had -done so many years ago. I determined to delay only long enough to get -back my strength, and it was for this reason I decided to come to -Sunbury, knowing the pureness of its air, and remembering too the happy -days of our short honeymoon here, when we were young and knew not what -life held of bitterness for us both." - -Madelaine's face was strained and grey as she sat listening silently, -trying to take in what her husband's words signified, and her parched -lips almost refused to utter the question which she strove to ask. - -"Do you mean to say you are going to leave me again, and to deliberately -give yourself up to trial and perhaps even death? After all this time -too? Oh, Gerald, is it really necessary? It is more than I can possibly -bear. Surely there is some other way?" - -"It is the only way," replied Gerald, "there is no other. I have not a -shadow of doubt about it. But, oh, my darling, it is a cruel blow to -deal you, and to know that it is I who have inflicted this pain upon you -is a worse punishment than any that can possibly come to me from the -hands of the law." - -Madelaine made no reply. She sat as if stunned by the terrible future -which had opened out before her, following so closely upon the sudden -joy. Her hands were tightly clasped together, and she gazed out of the -window as one who saw nothing. - -"Madelaine!" exclaimed Gerald suddenly, "is it too great a sacrifice -that I am asking you to share? Am I wrong in demanding it of you? We -are one, my wife, and you have a right to speak on this matter which -concerns us both so intimately. I put it to you--shall I stay so long -as you need me, or do you agree that it is right for me to go? Help me -to decide, only remember it must be a decision which is made in the -presence of God." - -Madelaine gave a shiver as at length she turned her eyes from the -window, and fixed them mournfully upon her husband's face. - -"It is right for you to go, Gerald," she said with a little choking sob. -"I will not hold you back. God have you in His keeping, and may He in -some way bring light into this black dark night which has settled down -upon us all." - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - *Well-founded Fears* - - -One slight reprieve did Gerald and his wife allow themselves, as they -talked over their future plans. It was decided that he should not -disclose his identity until he had reached the district where the crime -had been committed. Until then they would make the most of each other's -companionship, Madelaine and Robin going with him to California, so that -they might be together as long as possible before the final separation. - -"I must find out about berths and the dates of sailing," said Gerald, -"and in the meanwhile, we had better go to London or Liverpool, where we -can easily lose ourselves in the crowd." - -"Why not remain here?" asked his wife. "It is such a quiet little place, -and people have got accustomed to look upon you as an ordinary lodger, -who has been delayed by illness in Mrs. Potter's rooms. No one here -would ever dream of associating you with what happened ten years ago on -the other side of the world." - -Gerald's brow clouded. - -"Sunbury is one of the most dangerous spots on earth for me at the -present time," he replied. "Two men only were witnesses of my deed, and -one of them has lately come to live here. If he should happen to come -across me, there is nothing to hinder him from handing me over at once -to the nearest magistrate, in which case the few precious days that -still remain to us would be lost. I heard about him at the inn when I -first arrived, and it was because of this that I so hastily decided to -leave the place. I was on my way to the station when I came upon -Robin's castle, and falling asleep there from sheer exhaustion, was -found by the boys next morning when they came to play. If it had not -been for the illness brought on by exposure and drenching on the night -of the storm, I should have been across the sea by this time, so as to -place as many miles as possible between him and me. When I plead guilty -at the bar, I wish to do so of my own free will, not because force has -been brought to bear upon me from outside." - -"Who can it be?" asked Madelaine anxiously. "Surely no one would do you -any harm after all these years." - -"I should be utterly helpless in his hands if he chose to lodge an -accusation against me," answered Gerald. "His name is Thomas Field. He -was in Wattie's hut the night on which I killed the old man, and he saw -the whole thing. He was with me when I took my mad plunge into the -river, and therefore imagines me to be dead, but he would certainly -recognize me if I stayed on here. You told me he fulfilled his promise -of writing to tell you of my death. Did he not give you his name when -he wrote?" - -"I got a short letter from a man who signed himself, T.A.F.," said -Madelaine. "He sent back your watch and chain at the same time. Why, of -course those are Mr. Thomas Algernon Field's initials! How strange that -I never connected them before! He gave me no address, so I was never -able to write and ask for further details." - -"Did he return nothing but the watch?" enquired her husband. "There -were some papers I left for him to forward also." - -"He enclosed your diary," replied Madelaine, "but he said your papers -had been lost in the river when you were drowned." - -"Surely I could not have been absent-minded enough to put them into my -pocket again!" exclaimed Gerald. "I am certain that I handed them over -to him in the hut, but the truth is that I was in such a state of mind -at the time, that I may have picked them up again without knowing it. -They were documents concerning a piece of land that I had staked out -away up in the wilds as a sort of speculation, and I asked him to advise -you about it. It wasn't worth very much, and probably would have turned -out a failure as most of my ventures have done, but I wanted you to know -it was there, in case you might have made a few pounds on it. I should -like to ask Field about it, only that I dare not face him again." - -"Oh, Gerald," rejoined Madelaine, "I would not trust that man! He looks -as if he could be cruel as well as hard. Do not run the risk of putting -your life into his power. Let us fly while we can, for you are liable -to meet him at any moment, and you might be snatched from me almost -before our little time together is begun." - -"To tell you the truth, I have met him already," said her husband, "but -he evidently took me for a spirit, believing that I had done away with -myself so long before." - -Gerald proceeded to give his wife an account of the unexpected meeting -at the entrance of the little house in the wood, when the flash of -lightning had suddenly revealed the two old acquaintances to each other, -and Field had dashed the supposed apparition to the ground. - -"I was barely able to crawl to good Mrs. Potter's," he continued, "but -she took me in, and there I have been until to-day, when I ventured out -for the first time, longing for another glimpse of the little -angel-messenger who had tended me so lovingly in his leafy bower. No -wonder that I loved the lad, seeing he was my own son!" - -It was late according to the primitive habits of Sunbury when Gerald at -last rose to leave. - -"I must go back now to my worthy landlady," he remarked, "or she will -wonder what has become of me. I will come over early in the morning, -and we can make arrangements to leave for London to-morrow afternoon. -Please God, Madelaine, we shall have some blessed days together, before -we need to part again." - -"I shall be thankful when we are off," said his trembling wife. "Do be -careful, Gerald, and keep out of Mr. Field's way. I don't like to think -of you showing your face at all while you are here." - -"I'll take good care, dearest," he replied, "so don't you worry. Now I -must just run up and take a peep at little Robin before I go. Oh, -Madelaine, if you only knew how I have hungered for a sight of you and -the child! I can't think how it was that my instinct did not tell me -who he was, when he came to me in the wood. It was the name that put me -off." - -"I could not call him 'Gerald,' even though we christened him so," -explained Madelaine, as she stood beside her husband, looking down at -the sleeping boy. "It was too precious a word to be used for anyone but -you, and I got to speak of him as 'Robin' that first winter after we -came to England, because of his bright eyes and rosy cheeks, and the -name has stuck to him ever since." - -The interview next morning was satisfactorily concluded, and Gerald was -on his way back to Mrs. Potter's house. - -His heart was lighter than it had been for many a long day, as he walked -through the wood. Although a terribly dark cloud loomed ahead, a -rainbow seemed to have thrown itself across the grey and troubled sky, -and rays of love and hope shone all around. - -It was still early, not yet nine o'clock, and he was congratulating -himself on having encountered no one either on his way to or from Sea -View Cottage. One more bend in the woodland path, and Mrs. Potter's -chimneys would be in sight. - -He swung round the turn, and almost collided with a man who was walking -briskly in the opposite direction to which he was himself going. - -Words of apology rose to his lips, but they died away in dismay before -they were uttered. - -He was face to face with Thomas Field. - -"So it was you after all, and no ghost!" exclaimed the squire. "How is -it that you have turned up here, Barker? What do you want with me, -dogging my footsteps like this?" - -To Gerald's surprise Field's countenance had assumed an expression of -the utmost fear and dislike, as he suddenly realized who it was that had -thus encountered him. - -"I must have given him an uncommonly bad shock that night when I came -upon him during the storm," thought Gerald, as his mind took a rapid -survey of the past. "He looks perfectly terrified at the mere sight of -me, though it is I who have cause to be frightened of him, not he of me. -I suppose it's because he has so long accustomed himself to think of me -as dead." - -"You were my friend once, Field," he added aloud, "and I must throw -myself on your mercy again. I have no wish to intrude my presence upon -you. Let me disappear, as you did before, to be lost in the waters of -oblivion. I ask no more than to be left to go my way unquestioned and -alone." - -A look of relief overspread the millionaire's features, and his -aggressively domineering manner reasserted itself. - -"Well, Barker," he said roughly, "many a time have I wondered if I was -right in letting you slip through the fingers of justice as I did that -night. Death by drowning was too easy a way of escape for a man who had -murdered another in the cold-blooded fashion in which you finished off -old Wattie. My duty, no doubt, is to report you, now that I know you -are again at large." - -Gerald winced at the coarse cruelty of the words, and his thoughts flew -to Madelaine and the boy. Would the cup be dashed from his lips, just -when he was about to taste the sweetness of life for the last time? - -"I have long ago repented of my sin," he replied humbly, "and strong -drink has been put far from me since that day. It brought misery enough -then to make me shun it for ever. I have suffered, Field, and I know I -have been forgiven by my God. I can but ask man to have pity likewise." - -"You don't deserve it," was the harsh reply, "but I suppose I can't hit -a fellow when he's down, so I'll give you one more chance. I shall not -hand you over to the law this time, but I tell you plainly if I find you -loafing about here again, you'll have to pay for it. My conscience will -not permit me to let you off so easily a third time, so you had better -keep out of my way. I'll give you a friendly tip, though, before you -go. You have more occasion perhaps than you know to avoid Sunbury. I'm -not the only man here who holds the key to your past. Probably you have -your own reasons for banishing from your mind the fact that you were -ever acquainted with Blustering Ben, the hunter, but he will not so -quickly forget you. He was a chum of old Wattie's too, so he would not -be so lenient as I am, supposing he caught sight of you here. You know -what he saw last time you met, so take my advice and don't run your neck -into the noose sooner than is necessary. The faster you make yourself -scarce the better for everyone." - -"Thank you," said Gerald, though his spirit chafed at the insulting -speech. "I had no idea Ben was in Sunbury. I have certainly no wish to -meet him again." - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - *Judge Simmons Again* - - -Mr. Field turned to go, but he was arrested by a question from Gerald, -which made him pause once more. - -"There is one thing I should like to ask before we part," he said. "Did -I not leave some papers with you that dreadful night? I remember -speaking to you about them before I went down to the river." - -"You babbled to me about some claim which you had patented," answered -Mr. Field, "and told me what you meant to do with it, but I can't say -your head was exactly clear that evening; and all papers, if there were -any, went the same way as yourself, plump into the water. You left -nothing with me. I took the trouble, however, to ask some fellows who -came from that part of the country, and they told me you had been -regularly taken in about it--the whole property was not worth a cent. -So you need not cry over spilt milk. By the way, they know all about -old Wattie up there, so it would be wiser not to make too many enquiries -in that quarter." - -It was on the tip of Gerald's tongue to ask why Mr. Field had not even -mentioned the matter to Madelaine when he wrote, but he checked himself -in time. If the land was really of no value, it was not worth bringing -his wife's name into the conversation. Better to let the matter drop, -and leave well alone. - -"I have no wish to rake up old stories," he said. "Only I thought there -was no harm in asking you about the papers, seeing I had mentioned them -to you before. I pass now out of your life for ever." - -So saying he turned abruptly and continued his interrupted course -towards the edge of the wood. - -Mr. Field watched him until he disappeared behind the trees, then, with -knit brow and a preoccupied look he slowly made his way back to -Farncourt. He was met by Julius at the lodge gates. - -"You are late for breakfast, father," said the boy. "Why did you go out -before you had had anything to eat?" - -"I could not sleep last night," was the answer, "and I thought half an -hour's stroll might give me an appetite, as I am not feeling very fit. -I was longer than I meant to be." - -"It seems a day for early walks," said Julius. "Robin has been up to see -me already. Oh, father, isn't it dreadful? He and Mrs. Power are going -away this afternoon by the four o'clock train. He said they had to meet -someone in London, I think it was, so they were leaving a few days -sooner than they meant to do. I shall miss them awfully, especially -Robin. It will be just horrid without him." - -The boy's lips quivered as he spoke, and he tried manfully to keep back -the tears which would well up in his eyes. The last month or two had -been the happiest that the lonely child had ever spent, in the -companionship of his cheery little friend and the protecting tenderness -with which Madelaine had welcomed him into her large and loving heart. -Even in the midst of his own conflicting thoughts, Mr. Field felt -touched by the lad's evident distress, and endeavoured to comfort him as -best he could. - -"Never mind, Julius," he said. "I'm going to make some changes before -long, so perhaps you won't miss Robin so much as you think. This place -doesn't seem to suit me very well. I believe it is too near the sea, so -I am going to try how I get on further inland. I have seen a very good -estate advertised for sale about which I intend to enquire, and you may -find other friends there who may make up to you for your loss. Besides, -I have quite made up my mind that it is full time to send you to school. -I can't stand any more tutors, and it is not good for you going moping -about here by yourself. How would you like to go to Eton or Harrow, or -some other first-class place like that? I'll see that you don't want -for pocket-money, my boy, so that you can foot it with the best of them, -and lord it over the lords if so you will." - -Mr. Field chuckled over his joke, but though for a moment a gleam of -comfort lightened the gloomy horizon of the lad, the thought of losing -Robin settled again upon him like a cloud. - -"It would be simply ripping to go to school if only Robin could come -too," he said. "I wish Mrs. Power would send him with me, but I'm -afraid they're rather poor, so perhaps they couldn't afford it. They -asked me to spend the morning with them at Sea View Cottage, father, -that's why Robin came up so soon, in case I should be going out in the -motor, and they would not be able to say good-bye." - -"You may certainly go, Julius," replied Mr. Field. "Mrs. Power has been -a good friend to us, and contrary to my custom I shall call on her -myself to thank her for all her kindness to you." - -"Robin is going to give Peter his liberty before he goes," remarked -Julius. "You know he was only a baby wild rabbit that old Timothy -caught in his garden, so he will be quite pleased to live a free life -again. We are first going to give him a feast of everything that he -likes best, and then we shall take him to our hut in the wood and let -him loose there. Robin says that if we tunnel out a little hole in the -wall, Peter may perhaps believe it is a real rabbit's burrow and make a -home there. Of course the roof is all tumbled in now, so it is no use -as a house for us, but it makes it all the better for Peter, as he can -hide so easily under the fallen branches. Robin does think of such -delightful things!" - -Breakfast was over and Mr. Field had gone into his study to write some -letters. He had not been there many minutes when the footman entered -and informed him that two gentlemen were waiting to see him in the -drawing-room. - -"Who are they?" he asked impatiently. - -"I don't know, sir," replied the man. "They did not give any names." - -"As Julius said, this seems a day on which people are early astir," -muttered Mr. Field to himself. "I wish callers would not come bothering -round at this time of day. I wonder who they can be." - -The visitors were admiring the view from the window when he entered the -room, and he was almost at their side before they realized he was there. - -"Judge Simmons and Elihu Pratt!" he exclaimed as they turned towards -him. "Whatever brings you here together at this hour?" - -"We should be glad of a little conversation with you, Mr. Field," -replied the judge. "There is a certain matter about which my friend and -I have been making enquiries, and we believe that you may be able to -throw some light upon it." - -"What is the subject under consideration?" asked Mr. Field, nervously -requesting his guests to be seated. "Is it your young ward's -speculations in Mexico? I remember you were doubtful as regards his -ventures in the silver line last time you were here." - -"I am glad to say he is doing well," replied Judge Simmons, "but it is -not about him that we came. You may not perhaps have heard that Mr. -Elihu Pratt has lately been appointed District Attorney for the locality -in which the Good Hope mine lies. He is now engaged in investigating -the titles of the various mining claims about there, and he finds some -difficulty in connection with the deeds to your property. It so chanced -that I was interesting myself concerning the bit of land acquired by my -former acquaintance, Gerald Barker, and not being able to reconcile -several conflicting facts, we determined to call upon you together, both -of us happening to be over in England just now. No doubt you will be -able to make it clear, but we shall be much obliged if you will kindly -do so." - -Mr. Field moistened his lips before he spoke, and hastily mopped his -forehead with his handkerchief. - -"I have my title deeds all right," he said. "I can show them to you if -you like, but there is nothing conflicting about them, so far as I -know." - -"You remember, sir," continued the judge, "that when I called upon you -before, you were at some pains to convince me that Gerald Barker's claim -was in quite another valley to yours--a valley possessing the same -strange geological features as that in which your mine is -situated--although your little boy gave contrary evidence, much to your -displeasure. Now, Mr. Field, I was with Barker when he staked his -claim, and I have just returned from a visit to the 'Good Hope.'" - -"Well, what of that?" was the blunt rejoinder. - -"They are one and the self-same place," answered Judge Simmons gravely, -casting a penetrating glance upon the man before him. - -"I never said they were not," snapped Mr. Field. "I only told you there -were lots of cliffs of that formation about there. It was simply my -boy's rude way of contradicting that made me so angry with him." - -"There is no rock anywhere in the countryside similar to that which -overlooks the Good Hope mine," broke in Mr. Pratt, speaking for the -first time. "I find, moreover, that the land on which you, as reputed -owner, pay taxes, is identical with the claim patented some ten years -back by Gerald Barker. The Registrar's books fail to record any -transfer of the property. How did it happen to come into your -possession?" - -"Barker sold it to me, if you want to know," answered Mr. Field, -indignantly. "It is really intolerable to be cross-questioned in this -fashion. If you were not a government official I would kick you out of -the house for daring to insult me by your dastardly insinuations. You -may examine the patent for yourself, if that will satisfy you, and also -the transfer which Barker signed with his own hand, in which he gave up -all his rights to me." - -"I should like to see them," was Mr. Pratt's only reply. - -The millionaire hesitated for a moment and the colour fled from his -cheeks, but recovering himself quickly he invited them to accompany him -into the study, where he proceeded to unlock his safe and spread out -some documents before them on the table. - -"There is no doubt that this is Barker's patent," remarked Mr. Pratt. -"Now for the transfer. I see we have here the signatures of two -witnesses, Benjamin Green and Walter Long, as well as that of Gerald -Barker. It is also signed by Caleb Denham, who describes himself as a -Notary Public, and whose seal, according to custom, is appended here. -Have you any idea where the witnesses are now?" - -"Benjamin Green is a rolling stone, always knocking about the world," -was the reply, "and old Walter or Wattie, as he was called, is dead." - -Mr. Pratt glanced across at Judge Simmons. - -"This transfer is dated the day after that on which Barker was drowned," -he said quietly. - -"How do you know so exactly when that took place?" questioned Mr. Field. - -"His wife has supplied us with the information," answered the judge. "I -have here a copy of your own letter to her." - -"Ass that I was!" muttered Mr. Field under his breath. Aloud he added, -"It is easy to make a mistake like that in the backwoods, where every -day is alike." - -"These little mistakes sometimes need to be enquired into," rejoined -Judge Simmons. "We shall have to look up this same Benjamin Green and -find out what he has to say about it. It is fortunate that we have an -independent witness in this case, although it is unusual to have other -names besides that of a lawyer subscribed to a similar deed." - -Mr. Field bit his lip with vexation. "I have over-reached myself -there," was the thought which passed rapidly through his mind. "I -believed it would make it all the safer if I had those two signatures as -well as Caleb's, but they may prove my undoing. All the same, I don't -think I could have got the old shyster to put his seal to it if their -names hadn't been there, so they served my turn after all." - -In an injured voice he next addressed the judge. - -"Surely," he exclaimed, "you can rely on the statement of a Notary -Public without having to get proofs of his veracity." - -"I happen to know that this particular Caleb Denham has just been -convicted as an unprincipled and dishonest scoundrel," answered Judge -Simmons. "He is now undergoing a well-merited term in jail because of -his illicit practices. I would not give a button for his word." - -"By the way," he added, turning again to the letter before him, "when I -saw you last you gave me to understand that it was only a report of -Barker's death which had reached you, but it is mentioned here that you -yourself saw him swept away by the river. These statements seem rather -conflicting. Was anyone else there at the time?" - -"No," replied Mr. Field. "We were quite alone when the accident -happened." - -"Are you prepared to swear that you have given a strictly accurate -account of the whole incident?" asked the judge, his keen eyes fixed on -Mr. Field's agitated face. "I cannot deny that appearances are very -much against you. It is a queer thing that Barker should have -disappeared in this mysterious manner just at the very time that you -became possessed of his papers. When we questioned Mrs. Power about it -this morning, I thought she seemed rather to hesitate when I asked her -if she had any reason to doubt the truth of your report." - -"Mrs. Power!" ejaculated Mr. Field. "Whatever has she got to do with -it?" - -"You are evidently ignorant of the fact that she is Gerald Barker's -widow, she having changed her name on account of some stipulation in a -will," replied Judge Simmons. "We traced her by the information given -to us by a servant of the old gentleman who left her the money. Finding -that she was at present staying in Sunbury, we had an interview with her -this morning before we came on to you." - -"It is apparent that Mrs. Power has not let out to them that Barker is -alive," was the thought that flashed across Mr. Field's mind. "She has -evidently been in touch with her husband all along, but is terrified at -the idea of him being taken up for the crime. I never should have -believed that she could be so cunning as to hoodwink me like this. I -suppose she has set these men to catch me out. I'll be even with her -though, and with Barker too!" - -"Look here," he said in a bullying tone, "this Mrs. Power, or Barker, or -whatever she chooses to call herself--does she mean to make a fuss about -these papers which there is no doubt her husband signed? Because, if -so, will you please go back to her with a message. Tell her from me -that silence is the price of silence. If she wants me to hold my tongue -she had better not provoke me too far. I put myself unreservedly into -her hands. If after giving her this message she still wants you to take -up the cudgels for her, I confess I shall be surprised. She is more -likely to go down on her knees, begging me not to disclose her secret to -the world. You think perhaps you are doing her a service, but she may -end by crying, 'Save me from my friends!'" - -"This is a most extraordinary threat!" exclaimed the judge. "You had -better explain yourself more fully." - -"I shall have great pleasure in doing so," answered Mr. Field. -"Doubtless you are not aware that her husband's last public act was to -kill a defenceless old man in cold blood--this very same Walter Long -whose signature is on this paper. It was a false report which got about -concerning Barker's death. True he tried to drown himself in despair -when he realized what he had done--I saw him leap into the river with my -own eyes, and honestly believed him to have perished that day--but it -seems he managed to reach the bank again some way further down the -stream. He has been a fugitive from justice ever since. It was only -this morning that I learnt he was still alive. I happen, moreover, to -know where he is hiding at the present moment, and you may tell Mrs. -Power that if she pesters me with questions about the property which I -honourably came by, I shall know well enough how to be avenged!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XIX* - - *Revelations* - - -It was with feelings of perplexity and foreboding that Madelaine had -received her two visitors that morning. - -Her heart died within her when Judge Simmons introduced himself as an -acquaintance of her husband, with whom he had travelled during that -momentous journey to the west. She wondered how much of the terrible -past lay open to his gaze, and what new peril the future might have in -store. - -It was a relief when the strangers' conversation turned at once to the -subject of the tract of land acquired by Gerald so many years before, -the title deeds to which they told her they were desirous of -investigating. What was the value of a few acres in the wilds of -America compared with the well-being of the one she loved? True, he had -spoken regretfully of it to her, but he had also mentioned it in -connection with Mr. Field, the man of all others whom he sought to -avoid, and she had no wish to stir up dangerous enquiries by seeking to -establish a claim to that which had so long passed out of their hands. - -Afraid of implicating her husband or doing anything of which he would -not approve, she committed herself to nothing, merely assuring her -callers that she would gladly give up all idea of the recovery of the -property rather than involve herself in legal or other toils. Much -against her will, she at length permitted Elihu Pratt to make a copy of -the letter written to her by Mr. Field, which she produced at their -request, comforting herself that it only afforded additional proof of -Gerald's supposed death, and might thus be of advantage to him than -otherwise. - -"I am thankful to be leaving Sunbury to-day," she thought, "and that I -shall be able to talk it over with my husband this evening. By -to-morrow I trust we shall be lost to the world in the great whirlpool -of London." - -There was one thing only which Madelaine desired to do before she left. -She could not depart without bidding farewell to the man whom she had so -recently nursed back to life from the very borders of the grave. - -"I wish you would run up to the village and ask Benjamin Green to come -and see me, Robin," she said after the two visitors had left the house. -"Tell him we are going away this afternoon, and that I want to say -good-bye to him." - -It was not long before Ben appeared, his arm still in a sling, but -otherwise almost recovered from the effects of his late accident. - -After a few moments' chat Madelaine excused herself, saying she must -finish her packing, as the fly was coming for them soon after lunch. -She shook hands cordially with her former patient, but Ben still -lingered. - -"Mrs. Power," he began, but words seemed to fail him, as he shuffled his -feet awkwardly on the carpet, and half turned away his head. All at -once he hastily put his hand into his coat pocket and took out a small -parcel which he placed upon the table before her. - -"That is yours," he said. "It was lying just there when I took it." - -"What can it be?" asked Madelaine in surprise as she opened the packet. -"My husband's watch!" she exclaimed in delight. "How did you get hold -of it? I am truly pleased to have it back again." - -With shame and contrition did Ben confess his misdeeds, telling how on -the night of his first return to Sunbury, he had been tempted by the -open window as he prowled round the house after his raid on Robin's -ducks. - -"I've got Mother Sheppard's bag of coin here also," he said, "and the -three and ninepence that was for the missionaries, though I'm sorry the -box is gone. It would be mighty kind of you if you would let me hand it -all over to you, so that you might give it back to them as rightly owns -it. I've got the promise of two nice fowls for you, which I'll just run -over and fetch before you leave, if you won't mind taking them instead -of the other birds that I pinched." - -"It is very brave of you, Ben, and of course right to tell me this," -remarked Madelaine, "for I had no suspicion of it." - -"It's no use saying a fellow wants to be a Christian if he don't act -like one," replied Ben. "If Christ is my Master, I must see to it that I -don't do the Devil's bidding. It's the least I can do to give back what -isn't mine, even if it lands me in the lock-up, where I ought of rights -to be, if I got my deserts." - -"Who am I that I should accuse him?" said Madelaine to herself as she -listened to his confession. "Surely I of all others should deal -mercifully with those who have gone astray, and who desire to return, -remembering all my Gerald has gone through." - -With gentle words she assured Ben of her forgiveness, and told him she -would answer also for Mrs. Sheppard and Robin. - -"You have begun well," she said at length, "for this has been a hard -thing to do. May God help you to persevere." - -"Would you mind me asking you one thing before I go?" said Ben. "There -was some writing inside the watch, saying as it belonged to a Gerald -Barker. I came across someone of that name out west about ten years -ago, but he disappeared rather sudden, and the report got about that he -was drowned. When you cried out just now, saying it was your husband's -watch, I wondered could he have been the same Barker I'd known then. If -so be as it was, I suppose you've married again, seeing you're Mrs. -Power now." - -Madelaine wished she had bitten her tongue out before she uttered the -exclamation with which she greeted the sight of the watch. - -"I have never married again," she faltered. "It was owing to a legacy -that I was obliged to change my name." - -Ben looked at her narrowly, surprised at the sudden alteration in her -voice. - -"Was Barker not drowned then, after all?" he asked. "It is very queer, -but I could almost swear that I caught a glimpse of his face last night -as I went back to the inn. I was rather late coming home from a -friend's and someone was lighting his pipe at the corner of this road as -I passed. The match flared up for a second, and I thought to myself at -the time, 'How like Jerry,' as we used to call him. I sang out, 'Who -goes there?' but the man had vanished before I got to the turn. If so -be that your husband is still living as you give me to understand, I -guess it was really he that I met, and that he's staying here with you -now. By the way, I remember Barker used to be a chum of Field's. The -last time we three were together was in Wattie Long's house in the -backwoods. It's a night I couldn't well forget. It would be odd if we -met again here in Sunbury after so many years." - -"Oh, please don't say anything to Mr. Field about it!" cried Madelaine -piteously. "Ben, I must throw myself on your mercy, as I believe you -wish to be my friend. You must know all, if you were in the hut that -night, so I need not hide anything from you. The kindest deed you can -do both to my husband and me is to say nothing about this unexpected -meeting. Gerald is dead to all intents and purposes, and you can do no -good to anyone by publishing his existence to the world." - -"You may be sure I wouldn't lift a finger to hurt you or any of yours, -Mrs. Power," answered Ben earnestly. "I have too much cause to bless -you for all you did for me. If Barker wants to lie low, I'm not the one -to give him away." - -"I trust you," replied Madelaine, "and I am sure you will not mention to -anyone that you have seen him here. Only I would just like you to -understand, Ben, before I leave, that my dear husband was not conscious -of what he did that fatal night when you last met. It was from Mr. -Field's lips that he learnt the consequences of his hasty blow. He must -have been maddened by the strong liquor which had flowed so freely among -you, for he had no spite against poor Mr. Long, and can recollect -nothing of the quarrel which laid the old man dead at his feet. As you -know, he tried to drown himself in despair, after he realized what he -had done, but God in His mercy saved him and gave him another chance. -Sorely has the terrible crime blighted both his life and mine, but he -has sincerely repented, and indeed is now going to make amends, if he -can, for his sin." - -For a moment Ben stood as if meditating upon her words. - -"And has Gerald Barker been in hiding all these years because of this?" -he asked. - -"Yes," replied Madelaine, "and I am in mortal dread lest Mr. Field -should hear of him being in England, and give information which might -lead to his immediate conviction. Until yesterday, I myself believed -him to have perished in the waters, and we have only just been restored -to one another again. Like yourself, Ben, he has lately come to see -things differently, and has made up his mind to return to California at -once, so as to give himself up voluntarily before a magistrate. I am -counting more than I can say on the few precious days that remain for us -to be together on the voyage, and I think I should break my heart if he -was snatched away from me now." - -"Never you fear," was the answer, as Ben took his departure. "I'm your -friend to the backbone, Mrs. Power, and sorry should I be to harm you -either by word or deed." - -It would, however, have disturbed Madelaine greatly had she known that -Green's first act on leaving her was to walk straight to the Vicarage, -where he requested a few moments' conversation with the clergyman, who -was also a Justice of the Peace. She would have been still more anxious -had she seen the two men set out almost at once in the direction of -Farncourt. - -"Are the American gentlemen still with Mr. Field?" asked Ben, as the -butler opened the door. - -"That's lucky," he remarked to the vicar, on receiving an answer in the -affirmative. "I thought I recognized Elihu Pratt as he motored past. -He was pointed out to me one day in New York as one of the rising men. -I'm glad he's still here, for he may be useful to us." - -Thus it was, that as Mr. Field uttered the words recorded in the last -chapter, the door of the study opened, and the vicar and Benjamin Green -entered the room. - -"Why, here is the very man we wanted," said Judge Simmons, as the -servant announced the new-comers. "He may be able to throw light not -only on the document before us, but on the astounding statement which -Mr. Field has just made. Mr. Green, would you first kindly tell us -whether you can identify this signature as yours?" - -"Yes, that is my handwriting," replied Ben, as he laid down the paper, -"and I see the other witness is Walter Long." - -"Mr. Field has just informed us that this same Walter Long was murdered -by Gerald Barker, the man in whose name the deed is made out, and that -Barker threw himself into the river in dismay at having committed such a -crime," continued the judge. "Discrepancies, however, seem to multiply -as we proceed further. The document, which purports to be a transfer of -Barker's land to Thomas Algernon Field, is dated the day after that -which Field himself gave to Barker's wife as the one on which her -husband was drowned. If Gerald Barker killed Walter Long, how then is -his victim's signature found here also?" - -"It is no great wonder that I made an error in writing to Mrs. Barker," -blurted out Mr. Field impatiently, "but Ben acknowledges himself that he -signed the transfer all right, so why should you keep on harping about -it like this?" - -As he spoke, the harassed man sought to catch Ben's eye, in a desperate -endeavour to convey some signal of warning or appeal. - -"I never knew what the paper contained till this moment," exclaimed Ben, -ignoring the look. "It clears up a good deal that was difficult to -understand. You remember, Field, you would not let me read it, being as -you said, your own private will, and you told me to be sharp about it, -as you were in such a hurry to be off. I know now what it was, and why -you sat up writing half the night when you believed I was asleep. You -considered it a good opportunity to get hold of Barker's claim, and, -seeing he had already done away with himself, I suppose you thought you -were safe." - -"You dare to accuse me in this manner?" shouted Mr. Field, crimsoning -with fury. "I challenge you to prove the truth of your words." - -"I now also know why you wanted Wattie's letter," continued Ben, taking -no notice of the interruption. "I saw you steal it out of the old man's -coat. It was a rare chance for you to copy his name also, he lying -powerless in the next room and unable to testify that it was forged." - -"Can you tell us exactly under what circumstances this interview between -you and Mr. Field took place?" asked Judge Simmons. - -"When I put my name there, in Wattie's own hut in the backwoods," -replied Ben, "he had already been felled by the cowardly blow, and -Barker had been gone some hours." - -"Did you see Barker knock the old man down?" questioned Mr. Pratt. - -"Barker never lifted a finger against anyone," answered Ben bluntly. - -"Why then, who struck him?" exclaimed Judge Simmons in surprise. - -"There stands the man who did it!" said Ben, dramatically pointing with -his finger at Mr. Field, as he stood livid and trembling before his -accuser. "He evidently thought I was too drunk to notice it, but I had -still enough sense to know what happened. Field and Wattie had been -playing cards, and no doubt Field lost, for all of a sudden he got up in -a towering rage, shouting out something about a cheat. I myself saw -Field dash Wattie to the ground with his fist. The poor chap fell -against a corner of the table, gashing his head horribly upon the edge. -I watched Field go to him and bind up the wound, but the old man never -spoke or moved. Field then carried him to the inner room where there -was a bed, and shut the door. - -"What had Barker to do with it then?" enquired Judge Simons. - -"Gerald had no hand in it at all," answered Ben. "He was lying on the -floor all the time, sleeping off his bout. Field had been egging him on -to drink the whole evening, and he had had more than enough, being a -tender-foot and not used to our liquor." - -"What followed?" asked Mr. Pratt, as he jotted down something in his -note-book. - -"I went to sleep too after a time," continued Ben, "and when I woke, -Barker was gone, and Field was sitting at the table writing for all he -was worth. It was then I saw him steal old Wattie's letter. He got me -to sign something when I was coming round, but I was too mixed to know -what it was. That's the very paper you have there, with my signature at -the foot. Next morning Field hurried me off with him at dawn, we having -arranged beforehand to travel together to the south. I thought Wattie -was still resting after the blow, and Field persuaded me not to disturb -him, as he was asleep. We separated as soon as we reached the nearest -station, and I never met him again until I found him here in Sunbury on -my return home." - -"You lie!" thundered Mr. Field. "Every statement you have made is -false! You confess that you were drunk, so how can you give any -reliable account of what took place? Surely Barker's deliberate attempt -at suicide is enough to prove his acknowledgment of the crime. It is -preposterous to try to lay it at my door. What witness can you bring to -prove your accusation? It is only one man's word against another, and I -have as good a right as you to be believed." - -"There is a witness whom I can bring," answered Ben calmly, "and one -whose evidence will be conclusive too." - -"Who is it, pray?" asked Mr. Field with a mocking laugh. - -"Old Wattie himself," was Ben's reply. - -As he said the words, Mr. Field suddenly threw up his hands, and -staggering to a chair, fell back unconscious upon the cushions. - - - - - *CHAPTER XX* - - *Good Hope* - - -All was commotion and confusion at Farncourt as servants hurried hither -and thither, and a message was sent off to the doctor to come without -delay to the assistance of the master of the big house, who meanwhile -lay so helpless within its walls. - -"It was a stroke," said Ben to Mrs. Power, as he stood in her little -parlour giving an account of the sudden seizure. "They say he may -regain consciousness towards the end, but there is no hope that he can -recover." - -"How did it come on?" asked Madelaine. "He seemed quite well when I saw -him yesterday." - -"The two American gentlemen are coming to explain," answered Ben, "as it -has something to do with you, Mrs. Power. They will be here in a few -minutes." - -"Something to do with me!" repeated Madelaine in astonishment. "I don't -understand." - -A motor drew up to the gate as she spoke, and she was soon listening to -the strange tale. Clearly and concisely did Judge Simmons lay the whole -case before her, dwelling as gently as he could upon the sick man's -guilt, but demonstrating to her in no uncertain terms the cruel -deception which had been practised upon her husband, blighting his life -for so long. - -"Do you mean to say that Gerald is entirely innocent?" she asked, hardly -able to take in the wonderful news. "Am I right in believing that he -did not even strike old Mr. Long--much less kill him?" - -"There is absolutely nothing against him," replied the judge. "He is -free to hold up his head with any man." - -The chauffeur had by this time been sent off in the car to Mrs. -Potter's, with instructions to bring Mr. Barker back with him at once to -Sea View Cottage. Gerald had already started on his six-mile walk to -the railway, but it was not long before the motor had overtaken the -traveller, and a note from Madelaine put into her husband's hands, -bidding him come to her without delay. - -It was a joyful reunion when at length Gerald made his appearance at the -cottage, and the glad tidings were broken to the exiled man. Again and -again he had to be told the details of the marvellous story, while he -listened hungrily, his eyes glittering with new hope and his cheeks -flushed with the emotion which he did not seek to hide. - -"Is it indeed true that I can live out the rest of my life openly before -all?" he said at last, "with no haunting spectre dogging my steps or -barring the way to rest and happiness? What these past years have been -to me in their utter misery, no one will ever know. I feel as if a -crushing burden had been suddenly lifted off, and my heart is light once -more. Oh, Madelaine, we need talk no more of separation. It is as if -the sunshine had all at once flooded our future. Please God it may be a -very happy one both for us and our little son. As long as I live, I can -never praise Him enough for what He has done!" - -For some time did the little company remain, talking over the many -eventful circumstances of the past. - -"I never could make out why Mr. Field always seemed to be in such a -fright, as if something was hanging over him," said Ben. "The worst -thing I laid to his charge was some sort of forgery, to which I had -unwittingly put my hand. The suspicion of a crime did not enter my -head, as I had no idea there had been any talk of Wattie's death. Many -a time have I seen the old man and talked with him since the day when -all this coil began. I had no cause to question what Field told me, and -believed he was merely sleeping off the double effects of the drink and -the blow when we went off that morning, and never imagined there had -ever been any serious danger at all. He was very indignant with us for -deserting him as we did, and no wonder, for he was only just breathing -when some lumber-men happened to come in, and looked after him like good -Samaritans for a day or two till he got better. He was afraid of being -left alone in the hut after that, and soon went off to a married -daughter in Toronto, where he has been ever since. I suppose that is -why Mr. Field did not come across him again, and so never doubted that -he was actually dead, as might well have been the case had he been left -to our tender mercies." - -"Do you realize now what your position is in regard to your little -property in California?" asked Mr. Pratt at last. He turned to Gerald -and looked at him with an amused smile as he put the question. - -"I seem to care for nothing except that the intolerable weight has gone, -which has crushed me down for ten interminable years," was the reply, -"but I expect I shall take the first opportunity of getting rid of -anything that is mine in Wild Goat Gully. I never want to see the place -again." - -"You won't have many offers," said Mr. Pratt, with a knowing nod. - -"Not worth anything, I suppose," answered Gerald. "Well, I thought as -much, only I don't seem to care." - -"There are not a dozen men in the world who could bid for it," returned -Mr. Pratt. "Do you understand, Mr. Barker, that you are now the Silver -King?" - -It was indeed with feelings of astonishment that Gerald and Madelaine -listened to the account of the Good Hope mine, with that tell-tale -orange streak across its rocky wall, and learned that its rich treasures -were indisputably their own. - -Not till a week later were they able to grasp the reality of what it all -meant, when they were called to the dying bed of the man who had robbed -them not only of their heritage but of their peace. Broken and -penitent, Thomas Field made full confession of his sin, praying those he -had injured to forgive him for the wrong which he had done. - -It was Gerald Barker who supported the sick man's head in that last -dread struggle for breath, and Madelaine who closed his eyes as he -passed away from the world he had so much misused. - -"You promised you would be good to my boy," he gasped a few minutes -before the end. "He is blameless, though he must suffer for his father's -evil deeds, poor little chap." - -"He is going to be our boy now," answered Madelaine, putting her arm -round the sobbing child. "Robin and he will be brothers in everything, -and Julius shall share with him both our home and our love." - -To the utmost did Gerald and his wife fulfil their promise to the erring -parent, and brighter days dawned for little Julius than he had ever -experienced before. To a stranger's eyes, no difference could be seen -in their loving care for the two lads. - -"They shall share and share alike," said Gerald. "It was Julius' father -who first exploited the mine, and his enterprise that carried it on, so -it is only fair that his son should reap some of the reward. I hold -this wealth as a trust from God. I am but a steward of His to see that -it is spent as He would desire, and my wish is that the boys may be -brought up to use rightly what will one day be theirs." - -As for Benjamin Green, who helped so largely in bringing the truth at -length to light, his energies could not long be confined to quiet -Sunbury. When Mr. Barker offered him an important position in connection -with the "Good Hope" he accepted gladly, and for many years proved -himself not only a capable servant, but a faithful friend. - -It is as bright Harrow boys, home for the holidays, that we must take -our last glimpse of Robin and Julius, as they sit talking with Gerald -and Madelaine round the drawing-room fire at Farncourt. Robin's fair -curly head is laid against his mother's knee, and Julius' dark one is -not far off, both lads lounging contentedly upon the hearthrug, which -they share with a fine deerhound and Pat the terrier. - -"You should have seen Julius win the hundred yards' race, father," said -Robin. "It was simply splendid. All the other fellows were bigger than -he was, but he led from start to finish." - -"That's nothing to Robin at the high jump," put in Julius. "The people -just roared when he cleared the bar time after time. He broke the -record for boys under twelve, you know." - -"So you like school," remarked Gerald, "and have had a good term on the -whole?" - -"Rather!" replied both boys simultaneously. "Though it's jolly to be -home again," added Julius, as he looked up trustfully into Madelaine's -face. - -"Why, mother, you have actually got that old text of mine framed!" -exclaimed Robin suddenly, as he sat up and looked at the table opposite. -"I thought it was washed away the night of the storm, when our hut was -destroyed." - -"I must apologize to you, Robin," said his father, "for having so coolly -walked off with your property. I went back on purpose to take it that -night when the tempest broke, and I got so ill. Your mother found a -nice corner for it beside her writing materials, so we put it up there." - -"It reminds me of so many things," said Madelaine. "I like to look at -it." - -"I've often thought of it at school," remarked Robin, "when things -weren't going quite straight. It somehow seems to put them right. You -see if 'the eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and -the good,' it's bound to make one more careful." - -"Yes," said Julius, "and if one is down or sorry, it's a help to think -of it too--that is, of course, after you've found out that He's the best -Friend of all." - - - - - Butler & Tanner, Frome and London. - - - - - * * * * * * * * - - - - - *UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME* - - *EVERY BOY'S BOOKSHELF* - -The Captain's Bunk. By M. B. Manwell. -Sir Roland Preederoy. By F. C. Britten, M.A. -Roy of Daisydale. By L. Reid. -Philip Compton's Will. By M. Harding Kelly. -The Black Cockatoo. By Bessie Marchant. -A Trooper of the Finns. By Tom Bevan. -For Crown and Covenant. By Cyril Grey. -The Brigands' Prey. By A. M. Jackson. -All for Number One. By Henry Johnson. -For the Sake of a Crown. By Mrs. F. West. -Skylark: His Deeds and Adventures. By M. Geneste. -Cave Perilous. By L. T. Meade. -The Turquoise Ring. By Ida Lemon. -Old Schoolfellows and What Became of Them. -Tom Wallis. By Louis Becke. -The Shell-Hunters. By Gordon Stables, M.D., R.N. -The Fiery Totem. By Argyll Saxby, M.A., F.R.G.S. -His by Right. By Kate Mellersh. -Sir Guyon, the Interloper. By M. S. Madden. -Tom Kenyon, Schoolboy. By M. Harding Kelly. -True to the Colours! By Maud Maddick. -The Doctor's Experiment. By H. Frederick Charles. -The Black Pearl of Peihoo. By S. P. 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