I wanted to thank Bob but he cut me short. I grasped his hand.
"Don't speak of it," he said lightly, "you two boys helped me out the other night. One good turn deserves another. And I'm pleased to have been able to help a friend of Mattia's."
We followed Bob's brother down some winding quiet streets till we came to the docks. He pointed to a boat, without saying a word. In a few moments we were on board. He told us to go down below into a little cabin.
"I start in two hours' time," he said; "stay there and don't make a sound."
But we were not trembling now. We sat in the dark side by side.
For some time after Bob's brother left we heard only the noise of the wind and the sea dashing against the keel, then footsteps were heard on the deck above and the grinding of pulleys. A sail was hoisted, then suddenly the boat leaned to one side and began to rock. In a few moments it was pitching heavily on the rough sea.
"Poor Mattia," I said, taking his hand.
"I don't care, we're saved," he said; "what if I am seasick?"
The next day I passed my time between the cabin and deck. Mattia wanted to be left alone. When at last the skipper pointed out Harfleur I hurried down to the cabin to tell him the good news. As it was late in the afternoon when we arrived at Harfleur, Bob's brother told us that we could sleep on the boat that night if we wished.
"When you want to go back to England," he said the next morning, as we wished him good-by, and thanked him for what he had done for us, "just remember that theEclipsesails from here every Tuesday."
It was a kind invitation, but Mattia and I each of us had our reason for not wishing to cross the sea again ... yet awhile.
Fortunately we had our profits from Bob's performance. In all we had twenty-seven francs and fifty centimes. Mattia wanted to give Bob the twenty-seven francs in payment for the expenses he had been put to for my flight, but he would not accept a penny.
"Well, which way shall we go?" I asked when we landed in France.
"By the canal," replied Mattia promptly, "because I have an idea. I believe theSwanis on the canal this summer, now that Arthur's been so ill, and I think we ought to find it," he added.
"But what about Lise and the others?" I asked.
"We'll see them while we're looking for Mrs. Milligan. As we go up the canal, we can stop and see Lise."
With a map that we bought, we searched for the nearest river: it was the Seine.
"We'll go up the Seine and ask all the fishermen along the banks if they've seen theSwan. It isn't like any other boat from what you say, and if they've seen it they'll remember."
Before beginning the long journey that was probably ahead of us I bought some soft soap to clean Capi. To me, Capi yellow—was not Capi. We washed him thoroughly, each one taking it in turns until he was tired out. But Bob's dye was an excellent quality and when we had finished he was still yellow, but a shade paler. It would require many shampoos before we could get him back to his original color. Fortunately Normandy is acountry of brooks and each day we gave him a bath.
We reached the top of a hill one morning and Mattia spied the Seine away ahead of us, winding in a large curve. From then on, we began to question the people. Had they seen theSwan, a beautiful barge with a veranda? No one had seen it. It must have passed in the night. We went on to Rouen, where again we commenced our questions, but with no better result. We would not be discouraged but went forward questioning every one. We had to stop to get money for our food as we went along, so it took us five weeks to reach the suburbs of Paris.
Fortunately, upon arriving at Charenton, we soon knew which direction we had to take. When we put the important question, we received for the first time the answer for which we had longed. A boat which resembled theSwan, a large pleasure boat, had passed that way; turning to the left, it had continued up the Seine.
We were by the docks. Mattia was so overjoyed that he commenced to dance amongst the fishermen. Stopping suddenly he took his violin and frantically played a triumphal march. While he played I questioned the man who had seen the barge. Without a doubt it was theSwan. It had passed through Charenton about two months ago.
Two months! What a lead it had! But what did that matter! We had our legs and they had the legs of two good horses and we should join them some day. The question of time did not count.The great thing, the wonderful thing was that theSwanwas found!
"Who was right?" cried Mattia.
If I had dared I would have admitted to Mattia that I had very great hopes, but I felt that I could not analyze my thoughts, not even to myself. We had no need to stop now and question the people. TheSwanwas ahead of us. We had only to follow the Seine. We went on our way, getting nearer to where Lise lived. I wondered if she had seen the barge as it passed through the locks by her home. At night we never complained of weariness and we were always ready the next morning to set out at an early hour.
"Wake me up," said Mattia, who was fond of sleeping. And when I woke him he was never long in jumping to his feet.
To economize we ate hard-boiled eggs, which we bought from the grocers, and bread. Yet Mattia was very fond of good things.
"I hope Mrs. Milligan has that cook still who made those tarts," he said; "apricot tarts must be fine!"
"Haven't you ever tasted them?"
"I've tasted apple puffs, but I've never tasted apricot tarts. I've seen them. What are those little white things they stick all over the fruit?"
"Almonds."
"Oh...." And Mattia opened his mouth as though he were swallowing a whole tart.
At each lock we had news of theSwan;every onehad seen the beautiful barge and they spoke of the kind English lady and the little boy lying on a sofa under the veranda.
We drew nearer to Lise's home, two more days, then one, then only a few hours. We came in sight of the house. We were not walking now, we were running. Capi, who seemed to know where we were going, started ahead at a gallop. He was going to let Lise know that we were coming. She would come to meet us. But when we got to the house there was a woman standing at the door whom we did not know.
"Where's Madame Suriot?" we inquired.
For a moment she stared at us as though we were asking a foolish question.
"She doesn't live here now," she said at last; "she's in Egypt."
"In Egypt!"
Mattia and I looked at one another in amazement. Egypt! We did not know just where Egypt was situated, but we thought, vaguely, it was far away, very far, somewhere beyond the seas.
"And Lise? Do you know Lise?"
"The little dumb girl? Yes, I know her! She went off with an English lady on a barge."
Lise on theSwan!Were we dreaming? Mattia and I stared at one another.
"Are you Remi?" then asked the woman.
"Yes."
"Well, Suriot was drowned...."
"Drowned!"
"Yes, he fell into the lock and got caught below on a nail. And his poor wife didn't know what to do, and then a lady that she lived with before she married was going to Egypt, and she told her she would take her as nurse to look after the children. She didn't know what to do with little Lise and while she was wondering an English lady and her little sick son came along the canal in a barge. They talked. And the English lady, who was looking for some one to play with her son, for he was tired of being always alone, said she would take Lise along and she would educate the little girl. The lady said she would have doctors who would cure her and she would be able to speak some day. Before they went, Lise wanted her aunt to explain to me what I was to say to you if you came to see her. That's all."
I was so amazed that I could find no words. But Mattia never lost his head like me.
"Where did the English lady go?" he asked.
"To Switzerland. Lise was to have written to me so that I could give you her address, but I haven't received the letter yet."
"Forward! March! Children!" cried Mattia after we had thanked the woman. "It is not only Arthur and Mrs. Milligan now that we are going after, but Lise. What luck! Who knows what's in store for us!"
We went on our way in search of theSwan, only stopping just to sleep and to earn a few sous.
"From Switzerland one goes to Italy," said Mattia softly. "If, while running after Mrs. Milligan, we get to Lucca, how happy my little Christina will be."
Poor dear Mattia! He was helping me to seek those I loved and I had done nothing to help him see his little sister.
At Lyons we gained on theSwan. It was now only six weeks ahead of us. I doubted if we could catch up with it before it reached Switzerland. And then I did not know that the river Rhone was not navigable up to the Lake of Geneva. We had thought that Mrs. Milligan would go right to Switzerland on her boat. What was my surprise when arriving at the next town to see theSwanin the distance. We began to run along the banks of the river. What was the matter? Everything wasclosed up on the barge. There were no flowers on the veranda. What had happened to Arthur? We stopped, looking at each other both with the same sorrowful thoughts.
A man who had charge of the boat told us that the English lady had gone to Switzerland with a sick boy and a little dumb girl. They had gone in a carriage with a maid; the other servants had followed with the baggage. We breathed again.
"Where is the lady?" asked Mattia.
"She has taken a villa at Vevy, but I cannot say where; she is going to spend the summer there."
We started for Vevy. Now they were not traveling away from us. They had stopped and we should be sure to find them at Vevy if we searched. We arrived there with three sous in our pockets and the soles off our boots. But Vevy is not a little village; it is a town, and as for asking for Mrs. Milligan, or even an English lady with a sick son and a dumb girl, we knew that that would be absurd. There are so many English in Vevy; the place is almost like an English pleasure resort. The best way, we thought, was to go to all the houses where they might be likely to live. That would not be difficult; we had only to play our music in every street. We tried everywhere, but yet we could see no signs of Mrs. Milligan.
We went from the lake to the mountains, from the mountains to the lake, looking to the right and to the left, questioning from time to time people who, from their expression, we thought would bedisposed to listen and reply. Some one sent us to a chalet built way up on the mountain; another assured us that she lived down by the lake. They were indeed English ladies who lived up in the chalet on the mountain and the villa down by the lake; but not our Mrs. Milligan.
One afternoon we were playing in the middle of the road. The house before us had a large iron gate; the house behind stood way back in a garden. In the front of it there was a stone wall. I was singing my loudest. I sung the first verse of my Neapolitan song and was about to commence the second when we heard a weak strange voice singing. Who could it be? What a strange voice!
"Arthur?" inquired Mattia.
"No, no, it is not Arthur. I have never heard that voice before."
But Capi commenced to whine and gave every sign of intense joy while jumping against the wall.
"Who is singing?" I cried, unable to contain myself.
"Remi!" called a weak voice.
My name instead of an answer! Mattia and I looked at one another, thunderstruck. As we stood looking stupidly into each other's faces, I saw a handkerchief being waved at the end of the wall. We ran to the spot. It was not until we got to the hedge which surrounded the other side of the garden that we saw the one who was waving.
Lise! At last we had found her and not far away were Mrs. Milligan and Arthur!
But who had sung? That was the question that Mattia and I asked as soon as we found words.
"I," answered Lise.
Lise was singing! Lise was talking!
The doctors had said that one day Lise would recover her speech, and very probably, under the shock of a violent emotion, but I did not think that it could be possible. And yet the miracle had happened, and it was upon knowing that I had come to her and hearing me sing the Neapolitan song I used to sing to her, that she had felt this intense emotion, and was restored to her voice. I was so overcome at this thought that I had to stretch out my hand to steady myself.
"Where is Mrs. Milligan?" I asked, "and Arthur?"
Lise moved her lips, but she could only utter inarticulate sounds, then impatiently she used the language of her hands, for her tongue was still clumsy in forming words. She pointed down the garden and we saw Arthur lying in an invalid's chair. On one side of him was his mother, and on the other ... Mr. James Milligan. In fear, in fact almost terror, I stooped down behind the hedge. Lise must have wondered why I did so. Then I made a sign to her to go.
"Go, Lise, or you'll betray me," I said. "Come to-morrow here at nine o'clock and be alone, then I can talk to you."
She hesitated for a moment, then went up the garden.
"We ought not to wait till to-morrow to speak to Mrs. Milligan," said Mattia. "In the meantime that uncle might kill Arthur. He has never seen me and I'm going to see Mrs. Milligan at once and tell her."
There was some reason in what Mattia proposed, so I let him go off, telling him that I would wait for him at a short distance under a big chestnut tree. I waited a long time for Mattia. More than a dozen times I wondered if I had not made a mistake in letting him go. At last I saw him coming back, accompanied by Mrs. Milligan. I ran to her, and, seizing the hand that she held out to me, I bent over it. But she put her arms round me and, stooping down, kissed me tenderly on the forehead.
"Poor, dear child," she murmured.
With her beautiful white fingers she pushed the hair back from my forehead and looked at me for a long time.
"Yes, yes," she whispered softly.
I was too happy to say a word.
"Mattia and I have had a long talk," she said, "but I want you to tell me yourself how you came to enter the Driscoll family."
I told her what she asked and she only interrupted me to tell me to be exact on certain points. Never had I been listened to with such attention. Her eyes did not leave mine.
When I had finished she was silent for some time, still looking at me. At last she said: "This is a very serious matter and we must act prudently.But from this moment you must consider yourself as the friend," she hesitated a little, "as the brother of Arthur. In two hours' time go to the Hotel des Alpes; for the time being you will stay there. I will send some one to the hotel to meet you. I am obliged to leave you now."
Again she kissed me and after having shaken hands with Mattia she walked away quickly.
"What did you tell Mrs. Milligan?" I demanded of Mattia.
"All that I have said to you and a lot more things," he replied. "Ah, she is a kind lady, a beautiful lady!"
"Did you see Arthur?"
"Only from a distance, but near enough to see that he looked a nice sort of boy."
I continued to question Mattia, but he answered me vaguely.
Although we were in our ragged street suits, we were received at the hotel by a servant in a black suit and a white tie. He took us to our apartment. How beautiful we thought our bedroom. There were two white beds side by side. The windows opened onto a balcony overlooking the lake. The servant asked us what we would like for dinner, which he would serve us on the balcony if we wished.
"Have you any tarts?" asked Mattia.
"Yes, rhubarb tarts, strawberry tarts, and gooseberry tarts."
"Good. Then you can serve these tarts."
"All three?"
"Certainly."
"And what entrée? What meat? Vegetables?"
At each offer Mattia opened his eyes, but he would not allow himself to be disconcerted.
"Anything, just what you like," he replied coolly.
The butler left the room gravely.
The next day Mrs. Milligan came to see us; she was accompanied by a tailor and a shirt maker who took our measures for some suits and shirts. Mrs. Milligan told us that Lise was still trying to talk and that the doctor had declared that she would soon be cured, then after having spent an hour with us she left us, again kissing me tenderly and shaking hands warmly with Mattia.
For four days she came, each time she was more affectionate and loving to me, yet still with a certain restraint. The fifth day the maid, whom I had known on theSwan, came in her place. She told us that Mrs. Milligan was expecting us and that a carriage was at the hotel doors to take us to her. Mattia took his seat in the brougham as though he had been used to riding in a carriage all his life. Capi also jumped in without any embarrassment and sat down on the velvet cushions.
The drive was short, it seemed to me very short, for I was like one in a dream, my head filled with foolish ideas, or at least what I thought might be foolish. We were shown into a drawing-room. Mrs. Milligan, Arthur, and Lise were there.Arthur held out his arms. I rushed over to him, then I kissed Lise. Mrs. Milligan kissed me.
"At last," she said, "the day has come when you can take the place that belongs to you."
I looked to her to ask her to explain. She went over to a door and opened it. Then came the grand surprise! Mother Barberin entered. In her arms she carried some baby's clothes, a white cashmere pelisse, a lace bonnet, some woolen shoes. She had only time to put these things on the table before I was hugging her. While I fondled her, Mrs. Milligan gave an order to the servant. I heard only the name of Milligan, but I looked up quickly. I know that I turned pale.
"You have nothing to fear," said Mrs. Milligan gently; "come over here and place your hand in mine."
James Milligan came into the room, smiling and showing his white pointed teeth. When he saw me, the smile turned to a horrible grimace. Mrs. Milligan did not give him time to speak.
"I asked for you to come here," she said, her voice shaking, "to introduce you to my eldest son, whom I have at last found"; she pressed my hand. "But you have met him already; you saw him at the home of the man who stole him, when you went there to inquire after his health."
"What does this mean?" demanded Milligan.
"That the man who is serving a sentence for robbing a church has made a full confession. He has stated how he stole my baby and took it to Paris andleft it there. Here are the clothes that my child wore. It was this good woman who brought up my son. Do you wish to read this confession. Do you wish to examine these clothes?"
James Milligan looked at us as though he would liked to have strangled us, then he turned on his heels. At the threshold he turned round and said: "We'll see what the courts will think of this boy's story."
My mother, I may call her so now, replied quietly: "Youmay take the matter to the courts; I have not done so because you are my husband's brother."
The door closed. Then, for the first time in my life, I kissed my mother as she kissed me.
"Will you tell your mother that I kept the secret?" said Mattia, coming up to us.
"You knew all, then?"
"I told Mattia not to speak of all this to you," said my mother, "for though I did believe that you were my son, I had to have certain proofs, and get Madame Barberin here with the clothes. How unhappy we should have been if, after all, we had made a mistake. We have these proofs and we shall never be parted again. You will live with your mother and brother?" Then, pointing to Mattia and Lise, "and," she added, "with those whom you loved when you were poor."
Years have passed. I now live in the home of my ancestors, Milligan Park. The miserable little wanderer who slept so often in a stable was heir to an old historical castle. It is a beautiful old place about twenty miles west of the spot where I jumped from the train to escape from the police. I live here with my mother, my brother and my wife.
We are going to baptize our first child, little Mattia. To-night all those who were my friends in my poorer days will meet under my roof to celebrate the event and I am going to offer to each one as a little token a copy of my "Memoirs," which for the last six months I have been writing and which to-day I have received from the bookbinder.
This reunion of all our friends is a surprise for my wife; she will see her father, her sister, her brothers, her aunt. Only my mother and brother are in the secret. One will be missing from this feast. Alas! poor master! poor Vitalis! I could not do much for you in life, but at my request, my mother has had erected a marble tomb and placed your bust, the bust of Carlo Balzini, upon the tomb. A copy of this bust is before me now as I write, andoften while penning my "Memoirs," I have looked up and my eyes have caught yours. I have not forgotten you; I shall never forget you, dear master, dear Vitalis.
Here comes my mother leaning on my brother's arm, for it is now the son who supports the mother, for Arthur has grown big and strong. A few steps behind my mother comes an old woman dressed like a French peasant and carrying in her arms a little baby robed in a white pelisse. It is dear Mother Barberin, the little baby is my son Mattia.
Arthur brings me a copy of theTimesand points to a correspondence from Vienna which states that Mattia, the great musician, has completed his series of concerts, and that, in spite of his tremendous success in Vienna, he is returning to England to keep an engagement which cannot be broken. I did not need to read the article for, although all the world now calls Mattia the Chopin of the violin, I have watched him develop and grow. When we were all three working together under the direction of our tutors, Mattia made little progress in Latin and Greek, but quickly outstripped his professors in music. Espinassous, the barber-musician of Mendes, had been right.
A footman brings me a telegram:
"Sea very rough! Alas! Have been very ill, but managed to stop on my way at Paris for Christina. Shall be with you at 4 o'clock. Send carriage to meet us.Mattia."
"Sea very rough! Alas! Have been very ill, but managed to stop on my way at Paris for Christina. Shall be with you at 4 o'clock. Send carriage to meet us.Mattia."
Mentioning Christina, I glanced at Arthur, but he turned away his eyes. I knew that Arthur loved Mattia's little sister, and I knew that in time, although not just yet, my mother would become reconciled to the match. Birth was not everything. She had not opposed my marriage, and later, when she saw that it was for Arthur's happiness, she would not oppose his.
Lise comes down the gallery, my beautiful wife. She passes her arm round my mother's neck.
"Mother dear," she said, "there is some secret afoot and I believe that you are in the plot. I know if it is a surprise and you are in it, it is something for our happiness, but I am none the less curious."
"Come, Lise, you shall have the surprise now," I said, as I heard the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel outside.
One by one our guests arrive and Lise and I stand in the hall to welcome them. There is Mr. Acquin, Aunt Catherine and Etiennette, and a bronze young man who has just returned from a botanical expedition and is now the famous botanist—Benjamin Acquin. Then comes a young man and an old man. This journey is doubly interesting to them for when they leave us they are going to Wales to visit the mines. The young one is to make observations which he will carry back to his own country to strengthen the high position which he now holds in the Truyère mine, and the other to add to the fine collection of minerals which the town of Varses hashonored him by accepting. It is the old professor and Alexix. Lise and I greet our guests, the landau dashes up from the opposite direction with Arthur, Christina and Mattia. Following in its wake is a dog cart driven by a smart looking man, beside whom is seated a rugged sailor. The gentleman holding the reins is Bob, now very prosperous, and the man by his side is his brother, who helped me to escape from England.
LET US NOW PLAY FOR THOSE WE LOVE
When the baptismal feast is over, Mattia draws me aside to the window.
"We have often playful to indifferent people," he said; "let us now, on this memorable occasion, play for those we love?"
"To you there is no pleasure without music, eh, Mattia, old boy," I said, laughing; "do you remember how you scared our cow?"
Mattia grinned.
From a beautiful box, lined with velvet, he drew out an old violin which would not have brought two francs if he had wished to sell it. I took from its coverings a harp, the wood of which had been washed so often by the rain, that it was now restored to its original color.
"Will you sing your Neapolitan song?" asked Mattia.
"Yes, for it was that which gave Lise back her speech," I said, smiling at my wife who stood beside me.
Our guests drew round us in a circle. A dog suddenly came forward. Good old Capi, he is very oldand deaf but he still has good eyesight. From the cushion which he occupies he has recognized the harp and up he comes, limping, for "the Performance." In his jaws he holds a saucer; he wants to make the rounds of the "distinguished audience." He tries to walk on his two hind paws, but strength fails him, so he sits down gravely and with his paw on his heart he bows to the society.
Our song ended, Capi gets up as best he can and "makes the round." Each one drops something into the saucer and Capi delightedly brings it to me. It is the best collection he has ever made. There are only gold and silver coins—170 francs.
I kiss him on his cold nose as in other days, and the thought of the miseries of my childhood gives me an idea. I tell my guests that this sum shall be the first subscription to found a Home for little street musicians. My mother and I will donate the rest.
"Dear Madam," said Mattia, bending over my mother's hand, "let me have a little share in this good work. The proceeds of my first concert in London will be added to Capi's collection."
And Capi barked approval.