SHE STOOPED AND FLUNG THEM OUTSHE STOOPED AND FLUNG THEM OUT
“But, Margot, little girl, don’t be so sure. It’s scarcelyprobable——”began Adrian, compassionately, shrinking from sight of her bitter disappointment, should disappointment come. Alas! it would be almost as great to him, and whether a glad or sorry one he could not yet realize.
“His face! Look at your father’s face. That tells the story. The bonds are there, and ’tis Philip Romeyn’s daughter shall bring them to the light.”
Indeed, the banker’s expression confirmed her faith. Its frenzied eagerness had given place to a satisfied expectation, and a normal color tinged his cheeks. But he still watched intently, saying nothing.
“Catch them, Adrian, catch them! But hold them fast, the horrible, accursed things!”
One after one, stooping, the exultant daughter lifted and flung them out. Thefolded papers seemingly so worthless but of such value; the little canvas bags of gold; the precious documents and vouchers, hidden from all other men by one unhappy man, in his miserly aberration. The price of fifteen years of agony and shame. Now, fifteen years to be forgotten, and honor restored.
In that far past Philip Romeyn’s story had been simple and it had been true. He had been unaccountably anxious and had risen in the night and gone to the bank. He believed that the safe had not been locked, though he had been assured it should be by Mr. Wadislaw, the only other person who had a key to it. To his surprise he had found the banker in his office, but in dire mishap. He was lying on the floor, unconscious, bleeding from a wound upon his temple. The safe was open, empty. The steel bar which, at night, was padlocked upon it for extra security lay on the floor, beside the senseless man. Mr. Romeyn had picked this up and was standing with it in his hand, horrified and half-stupefiedby the shocking affair, when the watchman, discovering light and noise, had entered and found them. It was his hasty, accusing voice which started the cry of robbery and murder; and the circumstances had seemed so aggravated, the circumstantial evidence so strong, that the judge had imposed the heaviest penalty within his power. The hypothesis that Mr. Wadislaw had himself put the contents of the safe away, had even perverted them to his own use; and that he had injured himself by falling against the sharp corner of the safe’s heavy and open door, had been set aside as too trivial for consideration.
The hypothesis had been correct, the circumstantial evidence incorrect; yet in the name of justice, the latter had prevailed.
“Count them! have you counted them, Adrian?”
“Yes, Margot. It is all here. The very sum of which I have so often heard. Thank God, that it is found!”
“My father! Come, Joe, we’re going to my father.”
“And I go with you. In my father’s name and to begin his lifelong reparation.”
Swiftthe way and joyous now, that same road over which Adrian had journeyed on the day before, so grudgingly. Yet not half swift enough that through express by which they left the city limits for the little town of Sing Sing, or as would have better suited Indian Joe, of Ossining. Scene of so many tragedies and broken hearts; to be, to-day, a scene of unutterable gladness.
Margot’s eyes were on the flying landscape, counting the lessening landmarks as one counts off the stitches of a tedious seam, and with each mile of progress her impatience growing.
“Oh! Adrian! shall we never be there! I can hardly breathe. My heart beats so—I cannot wait, I cannot!”
In the seat behind them Joe still carefully held the old-fashioned shawl and bonnet, which Angelique had decided her young traveler should—but never would—wear. Her hair was out of that decorous plait which had been commanded, and there had been neither time nor friend to substitute new clothes for old. Therefore, it was just as she looked in the woodland that Margot looked now when she was first to meet her father’s eyes; and neither she, nor even Adrian, cared one whit for the curious glances which scrutinized her unusual, comfortable attire.
What were clothes? Money could soon buy those, if they were needed, and there would be money abundant, Adrian thought, fingering the “specimens” which the girl desired old Joseph to produce from that wonderful pocket of his, which held so few, yet just the very things that were important.
“Copper, Margot. I’m sure of it. I have a friend, a man who deals in mining stocks,and I’ve seen samples at his office which do not look as pure to me as this.”
“These pieces came from the deep cave under the island. Where I was that day during the great storm, the day you came to us. I don’t see why there shouldn’t be plenty of the metal there, for we’re in nearly the same latitude as the copper regions of the great lakes. I hope we may find it in large enough quantities to pay for getting it out.”
Adrian was surprised and not wholly pleased by what seemed a mercenary taint upon her fine character, but was ashamed of his momentary misjudgment when she added:
“Because, you see, we’ve suffered so much for money’s sake that we want to use it ourselves to make other people happy. I know what I will do with it, if I ever have much, or even little.”
“What is that?”
“I will use it to defend the wrongfully imprisoned. To help the poor men when they come out, even if they have been wicked once.To comfort the families of those who suffer disgrace and poverty. To forward justice—justice. Oh! Adrian, how far now?”
“Fifteen minutes, now. Only fifteen minutes!”
“They will never pass! They are longer than the fifteen years of my ignorance, when I didn’t know I had a father. My father. My father.”
Over and over, she said the words softly, caressingly, as if she could never have enough of all they meant to her; and the listening lad asked once, a trifle warningly:
“Are you not at all afraid, Margot, that this unknown father will be different from your anticipations? Remember, though so close of kin, you are still strangers.”
“Why, Adrian! My mother loved him and my uncle. I love him, too, unknowing; but I tell you now, this minute, if I found him all that was bad and repulsive, I should still love him and all the more. So love him that he would grow good again and forget allthe evil he must have seen in that evil place. For he is my father, my father.”
“Have no fear, I only meant to try you. He is all that you dream and more. He has the noblest face I ever looked on; yes, not even excepting your uncle’s.”
“What? you—have seen him?”
“Yes. Yesterday;” at which she sat in silent wonder till he said: “Now come. We’re there!”
When they stepped out at the final station Adrian called for the swiftest horses waiting possible fares, and burst in upon his sister’s presence with the demand, almost breathlessly spoken:
“Number 526, at once, Kate. This isMargot——Ah! mother! Margot! The money’s found—Number 526—quick!”
The excitement was all his by then. The girl to whom this moment was so much more eventful stood pale and quiet, with a luminous joy in her blue eyes that was more pathetic than tears.
“Adrian, are you crazy? Upon my word, I almost believe you are! Running away as you did last night and coming back again to-day, in this wild fashion. What do you mean? Who is this—this young person? And what in the world do you, can you, possibly, want of Number 526?”
He paid no attention to her many questions, nor even to his mother who clutched his arm in extreme agitation. He had caught the tones of a violin played softly, tenderly, and oh! so sadly.
“Yes, that’s Number 526, since you wish to see him, though it’s quite against the rules and—he’s practicing with hismen——”
“Come, Margot. Come.”
The player was in the little alcove behind the screen and palms, and did not even look up as the two entered his presence, for his own soul had floated far away from that dread place, on the strains of that music which no prison bars could confine.
“Father!”
“MY FATHER! I HAVE COME”“MY FATHER! I HAVE COME”
The music ceased, but only for an instant. Once the player had heard a voice like that—clear, sweet, exquisitely modulated. The voice of the wife he had loved, silent in death these many years. But the tone had been sufficient to stir his soul to even deeper harmonies: and he stood there forgetful of his shaven head, his prison stripes, once more a man among men.
“Father! My father! I have come! Margot, baby Margot! Come to set you free!”
Her arms were about his neck, her wet face pressed close to his, her tender kisses poured upon his lips, his dazed, unseeing eyes, his trembling shoulders.
Then he put out his hand and held her from him, that he might the better see her fairness, hear her marvelous story—told in few words, and comprehend what was the merciful, the Heaven-sent bliss that had come to him.
“Cecily! Margot! My daughter with hermother’s face! Free! Free! Oh! God, support me!”
The indomitable courage which suffering had had no power to weaken failed in this supreme moment; and as, in his hours of darkness, he had clung to his music for sustenance so he turned to it now. He pressed his violin to his shoulder, leaned his cheek upon it, and from its quivering strings drew out in melody the story of his fifteen years. All the bitterness, the sadness, the sweetness; and that exalted faith which had made the mystery of his life, and his shame, almost divine.
Blinded by their own tears, one by one, the others left them, and when the last strain ended in a burst of joyous victory, there were but two to hear it—parent and child.
Adrian watched the train that bore them homeward roll away, with a heart both heavy and glad. In fancy he could see them reach that journey’s end; with brother clasping thehand of brother, the silent, wonderful forest receiving them into its restful solitude. He could see that great room which had waited for its occupant so many years, and which was now all aglow from its flame-filled fireplace, and redolent with wild flowers. He could see the wide couch drawn up before the hearth and a toil-worn man, who had not rested before in fifteen years, lying there with grateful, adoring eyes fixed upon that pictured Face of The Man of Sorrows.
There was a girl in the room, moving everywhere in needless, tender care that nothing should be wanting. As if anything ever could be wanting where Margot was! The innocent, great-hearted child of nature, whose love no obstacle could overcome, and who hesitated at no danger for love’s sweet sake.
Best BooksFOR BOYS AND GIRLSA SERIES of books for young people that contains the latest and best works of the most popular writers for boys and girls. The stories are not only told in an interesting and charming manner, but most of them contain something in the way of information or instruction, and all are of a good moral tone. For this reason they prove doubly good reading; for, while the child is pleasantly employing his time, he is also improving his mind and developing his character. Nowhere can better books be found to put into the hands of young people. They are profusely and handsomely illustrated by the best artists and are well printed on good paper with exceedingly handsome and durable bindings.Sold by the leading booksellers everywhere, or sent prepaid on receipt of price.Cloth, each, $1.25The Penn Publishing Company923 ARCH STREETPHILADELPHIASTORIES FOR GIRLSEarning Her WayBy Mrs. Clarke JohnsonIllustrated by Ida WaughA charming story of an ambitious girl who overcomes in a most original manner, many obstacles that stand in the way of securing a college course. While many of her experiences are of a practical nature and show a brave, self-reliant spirit, some of her escapades and adventures are most exciting, yet surrounding the whole there is an atmosphere of refinement and inspiration that is most helpful and pleasing.Her College DaysBy Mrs. Clarke JohnsonIllustrated by Ida WaughThis is a most interesting and healthful tale of a girl’s life in a New England college. The trustful and unbounded love of the heroine for her mother and the mutual and self-sacrificing devotion of the mother to the daughter are so beautifully interwoven with the varied occurrences and exciting incidents of college life as to leave a most wholesome impression upon the mind and heart of the reader.Two Wyoming GirlsBy Mrs. Carrie L. MarshalIllustrated by Ida WaughTwo girls, thrown upon their own resources, are obliged to “prove up” their homestead claim. This would be no very serious matter were it not for the persecution of an unscrupulous neighbor, who wishes to appropriate the property to his own use. The girls endure many privations, have a number of thrilling adventures, but finally secure their claim and are generally well rewarded for their courage and perseverance.The Girl RanchersBy Mrs. Carrie L. MarshalIllustrated by Ida WaughA story of life on a sheep ranch in Montana. The dangers and difficulties incident to such a life are vividly pictured, and the interest in the story is enhanced by the fact that the ranch is managed almost entirely by two young girls. By their energy and pluck, coupled with courage, kindness, and unselfishness they succeed in disarming the animosity of the neighboring cattle ranchers, and their enterprise eventually results successfully.A Maid at King Alfred’s CourtBy Lucy Foster MadisonIllustrated by Ida WaughThis is a strong and well told tale of the 9th century. It is a faithful portrayal of the times, and is replete with historical information. The trying experiences through which the little heroine passes, until she finally becomes one of the great Alfred’s family, are most entertainingly set forth. Nothing short of a careful study of the history of the period will give so clear a knowledge of this little known age as the reading of this book.A Maid of the First CenturyBy Lucy Foster MadisonIllustrated by Ida WaughA little maid of Palestine goes in search of her father, who for political reasons, has been taken as a slave to Rome. She is shipwrecked in the Mediterranean, but is rescued by a passing vessel bound for Britain. Eventually an opportunity is afforded her for going to Rome, where, after many trying and exciting experiences, she and her father are united and his liberty is restored to him.
Best Books
A SERIES of books for young people that contains the latest and best works of the most popular writers for boys and girls. The stories are not only told in an interesting and charming manner, but most of them contain something in the way of information or instruction, and all are of a good moral tone. For this reason they prove doubly good reading; for, while the child is pleasantly employing his time, he is also improving his mind and developing his character. Nowhere can better books be found to put into the hands of young people. They are profusely and handsomely illustrated by the best artists and are well printed on good paper with exceedingly handsome and durable bindings.
Sold by the leading booksellers everywhere, or sent prepaid on receipt of price.
Cloth, each, $1.25
The Penn Publishing Company
923 ARCH STREETPHILADELPHIA
Earning Her WayBy Mrs. Clarke JohnsonIllustrated by Ida Waugh
A charming story of an ambitious girl who overcomes in a most original manner, many obstacles that stand in the way of securing a college course. While many of her experiences are of a practical nature and show a brave, self-reliant spirit, some of her escapades and adventures are most exciting, yet surrounding the whole there is an atmosphere of refinement and inspiration that is most helpful and pleasing.
Her College DaysBy Mrs. Clarke JohnsonIllustrated by Ida Waugh
This is a most interesting and healthful tale of a girl’s life in a New England college. The trustful and unbounded love of the heroine for her mother and the mutual and self-sacrificing devotion of the mother to the daughter are so beautifully interwoven with the varied occurrences and exciting incidents of college life as to leave a most wholesome impression upon the mind and heart of the reader.
Two Wyoming GirlsBy Mrs. Carrie L. MarshalIllustrated by Ida Waugh
Two girls, thrown upon their own resources, are obliged to “prove up” their homestead claim. This would be no very serious matter were it not for the persecution of an unscrupulous neighbor, who wishes to appropriate the property to his own use. The girls endure many privations, have a number of thrilling adventures, but finally secure their claim and are generally well rewarded for their courage and perseverance.
The Girl RanchersBy Mrs. Carrie L. MarshalIllustrated by Ida Waugh
A story of life on a sheep ranch in Montana. The dangers and difficulties incident to such a life are vividly pictured, and the interest in the story is enhanced by the fact that the ranch is managed almost entirely by two young girls. By their energy and pluck, coupled with courage, kindness, and unselfishness they succeed in disarming the animosity of the neighboring cattle ranchers, and their enterprise eventually results successfully.
A Maid at King Alfred’s CourtBy Lucy Foster MadisonIllustrated by Ida Waugh
This is a strong and well told tale of the 9th century. It is a faithful portrayal of the times, and is replete with historical information. The trying experiences through which the little heroine passes, until she finally becomes one of the great Alfred’s family, are most entertainingly set forth. Nothing short of a careful study of the history of the period will give so clear a knowledge of this little known age as the reading of this book.
A Maid of the First CenturyBy Lucy Foster MadisonIllustrated by Ida Waugh
A little maid of Palestine goes in search of her father, who for political reasons, has been taken as a slave to Rome. She is shipwrecked in the Mediterranean, but is rescued by a passing vessel bound for Britain. Eventually an opportunity is afforded her for going to Rome, where, after many trying and exciting experiences, she and her father are united and his liberty is restored to him.
Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters’ errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author’s words and intent.