Gradually the disappearance of George Alden became known about Cleverdale. His sister, on returning, was greatly shocked to learn of his absence. It was thought best by both Senator Hamblin and Belle that the cause of his flight should be kept from her, and she was encouraged by both assuring her of his probable restoration to them in the course of two or three days.
Patiently the two women waited. The Sabbath was gloomy and dismal, for a drizzling rain kept everybody within doors. Monday dawned, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday following without the return of the loved wanderer. The hours passed slowly and sadly, and the lines about the eyes of both women showed plainly that sorrow and grief were almost bursting two hearts.
Since the news of the cashier's departure became known, many inquiries had been made, and much sympathy expressed for the friends of the young man. It was feared his brain had become disturbed during his long illness, and that he was wandering about in a weakened condition of body as well as mind. One remembered that he appeared abstracted and acted strangely; another recollected passing him without his scarcely returning recognition, and manyothers now brought to their remembrance strange actions on his part.
As day after day passed the excitement increased, and his disappearance became the theme of general conversation. It was singular that no one recollected his departure on the evening train, the night he left his native village.
Senator Hamblin, nervous and filled with great anxiety, wondered why his summons had not brought back the fugitive. Many times he took from his private drawer the intercepted letters written to his daughter and Fannie Alden, and closely examined the assumed name and address, to convince himself that he had made no mistake in directing his letter. Much of his time was spent at home with his wife and daughter, who saw his anxiety, but little suspected the double load that weighed him down. Looking upon himself as a criminal, the impending financial ruin, added to the injury done his own daughter, nearly drove him to desperation. He scarcely slept during the long, tedious hours of the night, while the day gave him no peace of mind.
Receiving a visit from Mannis, the two men held a consultation for an hour, Senator Hamblin telling of his resolve and determination to make all reparation in his power for the wrong he had done. The wily Mannis pretended to coincide with him, even expressing a mock penitence for the part he had performed in the affair. So well did he act his rôle that Senator Hamblin never suspected the deception that was to make him a victim. He knew nothing of the body lying in the woods, soon to play an important part inthe development of the scheme. Since the change in himself he began to look upon Mannis as a villain, even congratulating himself that fate, more careful of his child's happiness than her own father, had made her the wife of George Alden. But when Mannis expressed penitence for what he had done, Senator Hamblin fell into the error of believing him an honest man. He did not hear the words Mannis whispered into Sargent's ear as he passed through the bank:
"The old man trembles, Sargent, and is greatly affected—how he will rip and tear when the fellow in the woods is found! Oh, my!" Both men laughed, and Mannis left the bank.
Friday was a pleasant day, the excitement being on the increase, for George Alden's disappearance had become still more cause of wonder. About noon, two little boys, greatly frightened and excited, came running into the village, exclaiming:
"A man—a dead man—in the woods over there!"
"Where?" inquired a citizen. "Stop and tell me."
The other lad, calming himself, said:
"We were playing in the woods out yonder, and saw a man—looking as if he was dead—lying under a tree, and we just ran away, sir."
By this time several other persons gathered about the boys, insisting upon the little fellows leading them to the place where the cause of their fright could be found. The lads agreed to go as far as the fence and point out the spot. The men moved along, their numbers increasing, and by thetime they arrived at the grove there were at least twenty persons in the crowd. The boys pointed to a large maple tree, and a moment later the crowd surrounded the dead body. An offensive odor filled the air, and the horrible sight caused many to turn hastily away.
"Who is it?" asked every one, but no one seemed able to answer.
The crowd was being augmented by numbers, for the news of the discovery had spread rapidly. Finally a man broke through the crowd, and hastily glancing at the body, said:
"It is George Alden. I know those clothes; but see, the face is pretty much gone. Horrible!"
The news flew quickly to the village, and many people flocked to the scene. Gazing upon the mutilated remains, many, recognizing the clothing, corroborated the opinion first expressed. Soon it was decided in the minds of all that the remains were those of the missing cashier, a pistol in close proximity to the body telling a tale of suicide.
The coroner came later, a jury was empanelled, and it was discovered that all valuables on the person had been stolen. Although the body was so badly decomposed that a thorough examination was impossible, the bullet-hole was plainly visible, the whole face having the appearance of being scorched and lacerated. In this condition the remains were placed in a handsome casket, and closed never to be opened.
The first theory was one of suicide, although the fact that the watch and everything else of value had been takenfrom the pockets suggested to many murder as the cause of death.
While the community was greatly shocked, the scenes taking place at the Hamblin mansion were heart-rending. Fannie Alden, on returning to Cleverdale, had been prevailed upon to remain with Belle until her brother's return.
During the anxious days the sisters tried to comfort each other, constantly remaining together. As the hours wore on, no tidings of the loved one being received, hope gradually gave way to despondency, and when the awful news reached them that the dead body of the husband and brother had been found, it prostrated both with grief.
"Oh," cried Belle, "I must go to him, and look upon his dear face once more."
When told it would not be possible for her to see him, her sobs and moans were so piteous that they would have even softened the hearts of the two villainous authors of the deep and cruel game, so full of woe to her, had not these hearts been reserved for more appropriate treatment.
For several days Senator Hamblin visited his daughter only once, for he knew that he was a poor comforter. Suffering the torments of hell, he cursed his mad ambition and declared himself a murderer.
"Oh, my God!" he would exclaim, "what have I done to gratify my ambition? Step by step, approaching this awful deed, what crimes I have committed, and what sorrow I have brought upon my beloved daughter. Dead? yes, and I his murderer! How can I free myself from myself? My dreams are haunted by this awful spectre. Isee him before me in his agony, as he trembled at the false accusation that he was a thief. That look haunts me, and almost drives me mad."
Falling into a chair and burying his head in both hands, he groaned in agony of spirit.
"Oh, had I the courage to end this! But no, I dare not run the risk of a worse torment than I am experiencing. If this is earth, what must hell be? I must live and look upon her sad face—see her misery and acknowledge that I, her unnatural father, murdered her husband! Ambition, what a fiend you are!" and so passed hour after hour.
The remains had been removed by the coroner and placed temporarily in the receiving vault. The funeral, appointed for the following day, was a sad and solemn occasion for the people of Cleverdale, the eulogies pronounced over the supposed dead hero touching the hearts of all. The brave act of rescuing the one hundred and fifty operatives from the burning factory was referred to in glowing words, and stout hearts were overcome as they thought of the sad death of the estimable man whom every one loved and respected.
The prostrated young wife was unable to attend the ceremony, for, utterly overcome with grief, she could not leave her room.
A grave was opened in the Hamblin lot, for the Senator ordered that the body should rest there. The crowd that followed was very great, for most of the one hundred and fifty rescued persons followed as mourners, and as they stood beside the yawning chasm, sobs filled the air. Never wasthere such an affecting funeral in Cleverdale. The church bells tolled sad requiems, and it was a day long to be remembered. As the earth closed over the remains of the man stolen from his grave in Havelock, many grief-stricken hearts were weighed down by the cruel clods; while two jolly fellows met in a room at the Cleverdale Hotel, opened a bottle of wine, and drank to the success of their businesslike scheme.
Instead of abating, Belle's grief increased, causing her to pass many sad hours mourning, and reproaching herself for leaving her husband before his body and mind had regained their natural strength. She desired to make public her marriage and assume her lawful name, but at the urgent solicitation of her father decided to keep her secret; though not until Fannie Alden had acquiesced in her decision. Afterward regretting this deception, she passed many unhappy hours in the dual character assumed.
Senator Hamblin lost all interest in politics; he was burdened with his crime and haunted by visions. In his chamber, at the bank, or with his family he appeared like a broken-down man; even his old political friends failed to arouse him from his moods of despondency. Miller called to converse with him on subjects that heretofore occupied his whole attention.
"I care not, Miller," he said. "I am sick and tired of politics."
Even Paddy Sullivan failed to awaken the old-time enthusiasm, and the canvass for the gubernatorial nomination was abandoned temporarily at least.
Day after day, week after week, month after month, he moved about in a mechanical way. As he kept his notes renewed, no one suspected his financial condition, but the interest on his borrowed money was increasing his indebtedness. He was always kind to Belle, however, and as she lost all love and interest for everything he often expostulated with her.
"No, papa, my heart is frozen. I can only wait for the time when I shall meet George in the other world. But you, papa, look haggard and broken down."
"Ah! my child, I am a murderer—the brand of Cain is upon me. It will be only for a short time, for this terrible responsibility is killing me."
The dutiful girl, throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him.
"How can you kiss me," he would say, "when I have been so cruel to you? Oh, Belle, the world is ignorant of your relation to him and it does not know I drove him away. If the people of Cleverdale, who loved him so, knew that I was his murderer, think you they would spare me?"
"You knew not what you did then. For my sake throw off this grim demon that is holding you. You must be prepared for your public duties, for it will be but a short time before you must go to the Senate again."
"If I could recall the dead, I would willingly give all I possess; yes, I would esteem it a privilege to lie down in the grave myself could I give you back your dead husband."
Belle, filled with grief for the dead, beheld the sufferingof the living, and resolved to bear up and save her father if possible.
Poor Fannie Alden was spared the grief that would have been hers had she been told of the charge preferred against her brother. She believed that, becoming deranged, he had taken his own life. A long investigation was made, but of course nothing was found supporting the theory of murder excepting the fact of the pockets containing no valuables. It was ascertained, however, that the watch of George Alden was at a jewelry store, left there by the owner to be repaired; but the absence of all other articles from the pockets was enveloped in deep mystery. Not one word written by the deceased had been found. The excitement soon died away, the suicide theory being gradually accepted.
Senator Hamblin and daughter thought they knew why he had taken his own life. Mannis and Sargent knew George Alden was not dead. But the people of Cleverdale, visiting the cemetery, often paused beside the grave and said:
"Such a good and noble man! What a sad thing that he became insane and killed himself!"
Four long weary months passed, and George Alden, alias George Howard, sat in his room at the boarding-house in Chicago. His face was pale, and lines of sorrow were plainly visible about his eyes. Gazing intently at a photograph, his only companion in many a sad hour, he murmured:
"Lost! lost to me, all that I loved and adored! Four months ago I fled like a thief from my native village; oh, fatal mistake, fatal mistake! By that act acknowledging myself guilty of a crime I never committed, I must now prepare to go forth into the world and battle for a new existence."
Raising the picture to his lips, he kissed it again and again.
"Oh, that cruel letter! But 'grief never kills;' the fact that I am spared proves the truthfulness of the old saying. My wife believes me a villain, and all I might say or do would never convince her to the contrary. And my poor sister has deserted me; she too must believe me guilty of crime."
He was much agitated, and rising from his chair pacedthe room for a few moments, when forcing a change of manner he said:
"No more of this—I must smother these remembrances of mine; henceforth I must conquer the feeling that overwhelms me. Farewell all past loves! Farewell all past joys and sorrows! To-morrow I go forth into the world, and as Mrs. Nash's door closes behind me the curtain disclosing the past will drop forever. It must be so, or I cannot expect to keep up with the army I am soon to join."
The next morning, rising early, he packed his satchel, and descended to the breakfast-room, where he ate more than usual. Upon leaving the table he entered the sitting-room, where he glanced over the newspaper until Mrs. Nash joined him.
"Mrs. Nash, I am going away to-day."
"Going away? You must not go yet, for you are hardly strong enough."
"Do not think me ungrateful to such a kind mother as you have been to me, but I must seek a place where I can earn money. I have been dreading departure from this home—the only one I possess in the world; but I have fully realized the need of active employment for my mind. I must forget myself—forget I ever lived until I came to you. Do not ask me why. Some time I promise to tell you all; yes, open wide the book, that you may read every line upon the pages that to me are so sad and gloomy."
The good woman noted his sorrow, and saw the necessity of cheering words.
"Never mind all that," she said; "this world is full of sunshine, and if clouds hide the light for a while, remember that the sun shines just the same. I shall miss you, but wherever you go I shall always think of you, and hope to hear of your prosperity."
"Dear, kind mother—you are all I have now—the only link binding my heart to the past is your love and kindness. God bless you! God bless you!"
His voice trembled with emotion, and Mrs. Nash, wiping away a tear, forced a smile, and replied:
"If I am your mother, you are my son, and as you are to leave me, I insist upon a promise."
"Name it, my good mother, and if it is among the possibilities I will readily comply."
"It is this: you must try to forget all sorrow of the past and live for the future. You must write me at least once a month, telling about yourself. You must, above all things, be cheerful and not give way to despondency."
Promising to obey, and regretfully bidding the good woman farewell, Alden turned his face westward from Chicago, to seek a fortune and begin a new life for himself in the wilds of Colorado. A week later, he stood alone in the streets of a small settlement in the silver hills, and, after walking about for a while, entered a hotel, and bargained for a week's board. On entering the small room assigned him he was forced to smile at the primitive style of the apartment and its furniture. The bed was simply a "tick" filled with dried grass, over which was spread two coarse woollen blankets. The bedstead was without posts, while an old ricketychair and a barrel used as a table completed the furniture of the apartment.
The following day he met two young men who, like himself, were strangers in the locality and seeking a fortune. Sympathy drawing the three together, they mutually formed plans for the future.
The next morning the three, leaving the inn on a prospecting tour, first visited the mines in the vicinity. Every detail was carefully noted, and they asked so many questions of those in charge, that, as they left the place, a foreman remarked:
"There are three keen-eyed chaps, and I'll bet a silver brick they'll strike a paying lead before they are much older."
Four days later they staked a claim, pulled off their coats and began active operations; a few old heads smiling at the three "tender-feet" turning miners.
Alden rapidly gained strength, and the bracing air and steady exercise gradually restored him to health. The paleness so long overspreading his countenance gave place to a healthy glow, and the clouds that darkened his mind were only visible at periods when he allowed old thoughts to disturb him.
His natural strong will-power reasserted itself as his physical vigor returned. His principal thought now was to repay the sum which Senator Hamblin advanced him when he fled, like a thief, from home and friends. The amount he was accused of stealing he knew was not incumbent on him to pay, for he now fully believed Senator Hamblin hadreally manufactured the charge to get him out of the way, that he might marry his daughter to Walter Mannis.
Belle, he knew, was his lawful wedded wife, and could not, if she wished, marry Mannis; yet he longed at some future day to return to Cleverdale and confront his false accusers, even though his wife had turned against him. This thought often entered his mind, but he dismissed it with the remark:
"No, I shall never go back to be spurned by the only woman I ever loved."
His companions often inquired concerning his past life, and as he evaded direct answers, they concluded his presence in Colorado was the result of a love affair. Soon learning to look upon him as the very soul of honor, in all their movements he became an adviser with rare judgment and foresight.
Operations were partially suspended by the three miners during the winter, for the weather prevented much work. Being prudent during the winter months, they made but little inroad upon their reserve fund, and when spring opened were ready to renew operations. All about them were evidences of rich mineral wealth, and before summer came they had gone to a considerable depth into the earth. Day by day they toiled on, and old miners, straying through the gulch and watching them, changed doubt of the "tender-feet" to admiration at their plucky spirit. All through the region in that mountain-pass spread the fame of the new company, and when indications of paying ore began to develop itself everybody said:
"I told you so! those chaps will certainly succeed."
George Howard showed plainly that he was worthy of success. Nearly a year had passed since his departure from Cleverdale, and during that time, with the exception of the forged letter, he had received no tidings from his native place. Could he have seen that silent mound in the Cleverdale Cemetery surmounted by a plain marble slab bearing the name of George Alden, it is possible that he might have abated his energies, but his only ambition now being to succeed in his new life, right royally did he concentrate all his efforts to accomplish his desire.
He regularly wrote to his good friend Mrs. Nash, and the letters received in return overflowed with sympathy and words of encouragement. Greatly prizing her letters, he read and re-read them until every word was indelibly engraved upon his mind. This was very unromantic, but it was also very much to his credit.
One day, "Three Boys Gulch," as it was called, was the scene of excitement, for the efforts of the partners were crowned with success by the discovery of a rich vein of silver. The news travelled on swift wings, and spectators looking into the shaft shook their heads at the thought of what they had missed.
The young men became lions at once, for were they not owners of a bonanza? and George Howard wrote a short letter to his friend Mrs. Nash as follows:
"Three Boys Gulch."MyDEARFriendANDMother:"I am a rich man, for we have struck a bonanza. Business may call me to Chicago soon, when I shall see you, and then, my good mother, I will tell you the secret of my life. Until then, farewell."Ever your friend,"George Howard."
"Three Boys Gulch.
"MyDEARFriendANDMother:
"I am a rich man, for we have struck a bonanza. Business may call me to Chicago soon, when I shall see you, and then, my good mother, I will tell you the secret of my life. Until then, farewell.
"Ever your friend,"George Howard."
Sealing the letter, he said:
"And now for a vindication of myself; even if I were guilty, everybody will listen to me when I own a third of a rich silver mine."
Go where you will, seek whom you may, converse with all whom you meet, and you will fail to find a person of either sex, arrived at years of discretion, whose heart does not conceal a secret. Some have secrets of love, some secrets of business, while other heart-closets may conceal the skeleton of a secret crime. Several of our characters have faithfully retained secrets which, if known, would have long ere this abruptly terminated our story.
Senator Hamblin suffered intensely by his terrible secret. Fully conscious that George Alden had committed no crime, to the oft-repeated inquiries of his daughter concerning the defalcation he evaded direct answers by saying he believed him innocent, although the sum of five thousand dollars had mysteriously disappeared. His agency in the supposed death of George Alden weighed heavily upon him, while the impending crash in his business affairs was a secret that gave him no peace of mind.
His daughter possessed two secrets; one of them, her marriage with George Alden, was faithfully kept from all except those of her own immediate family. While it was publicly known that she mourned his death, refusing comfort, none but those mentioned were aware of the relationshe sustained toward the late cashier. Another secret which she guarded safely was her knowledge of the accusation which she supposed caused her husband's death.
Fannie Alden was unconscious of the charges made against her brother's integrity. Had she known the cause of George's disappearance, her sensitive nature would have received a wound from which she never could have recovered. Therefore, Belle felt justified in keeping this secret locked in her breast, although she believed the charges false in every particular.
Two other persons possessed a secret, over which they cracked many jokes. Mannis and Sargent often met and talked over the success of their scheme. The latter, now cashier of the bank, fully felt his importance. Sargent's thoughts sometimes reverted to the night when, playing the rôle of body-snatcher, he assisted to disguise a dead body to account for the absence of the living; and he never felt proud of that night's work; but when a twinge of conscience disturbed him, he quieted his mind with the oft-repeated remark:
"Well, a man must look out for his own interests."
Walter Mannis felt little remorse at the part he performed in the game, for his was a callous conscience, and such little episodes never disturbed the serenity of his mind. The Congressional nomination was sought and won by him, thanks to money, and his election was easily accomplished. Considerable hostility to his nomination was evinced at first, but when the convention closed its deliberations, there was a general acquiescence in the result. The candidacy ofDaley was too fresh in the minds of recalcitrant politicians to encourage a repetition of the "bolting" game. Poor Daley, still an inmate of the asylum, and with small hope of recovery, left a warning behind.
Senator Hamblin, of late much with Mannis, fell under the influence of his companion, whose wily tongue and smooth manner again completely won the Senator's confidence and esteem. The father still entertained hope that his daughter, recovering from grief occasioned by the death of George Alden, would ultimately become the wife of his friend.
Mannis soliloquized one day in his room at the Manor, surrounded by books, letters, and scraps of paper covered with figures:
"My case is desperate," he said, "and something must be done at once, or I shall be caught napping. The note on which I took the liberty of endorsing Hamblin's name falls due next Wednesday. By Jove! it must be got out of the way, dead sure, or there will be trouble. It is for ten thousand dollars, and if not taken care of at maturity, those city bankers will make me trouble."
Lighting a cigar and stretching himself in an easy-chair, he watched the smoke for a moment or two as it curled above his head, and then continued: "Mannis, you are a cool fellow, and Hamblin falls an easy prey into your clutches. I feel sorry for him; I wouldn't have his tender conscience for a fortune. He thinks he murdered Alden—ha! ha! ha!—a confounded good joke. But supposing the ex-cashier should walk in some day, with papers and documents, to say nothing of his face, to prove he is not dead? Wh-e-e-w-w! wouldn't there be a nice old time in Cleverdale? I only hope he will wait until I secure the girl, whom I have sworn to marry. Once married to Belle Hamblin, and I am saved; the old man's fortune can help me out of my trouble, and it must. I have lately hinted to him again my desire to marry his daughter, and he takes kindly to the notion. They do say she is inconsolable at Alden's supposed death; but she will get over that; 'grief cannot kill'—" and singing the refrain from a popular air, he seemed very happy, for he resumed:
"See here, old fellow, you are a Congressman, but it will be some time before you go to Washington, and if you can get a hold there, perhaps you too can make a strike. All those fellows get rich, and Walter Mannis will look out for number one. Oh, if I can only capture Belle Hamblin, and take her to Washington as my wife, what a brilliant couple we will make, for I flatter myself I am not bad-looking. Ah, Mannis, you are an egotistical fellow. Egad! But how can you help it? I vow I will go to Cleverdale to-morrow, see Hamblin, and again urge my suit. What would the old man think if he knew of that note his name is on! But, pshaw, he will never know of it. I shall get it out of the way somehow, and at once."
He was interrupted by a servant entering and handing him a note, which he hastily tore open. As he read it a shade of anger crossed his countenance.
"Confound that girl!" he said. "She thinks I will marry her, does she? She doesn't know me. I must get rid ofher some way; but how? That's the question. Let me think."
Dropping into a chair and passing his hand across his brow, he was engaged in deep thought for almost ten minutes. Breaking the silence, he said:
"Well, I must get her away from here, to begin with. This affair troubles me more than any woman scrape I was ever engaged in. If her father knew about it there would have to be a new election for a Congressman to fill my place. It is a bad go, for I certainly have deceived the girl, and old Harris is a savage fellow, who wouldn't hesitate to pop the man who betrayed his daughter."
Mannis, for once, was really troubled. He cared little for the misery he might bring upon others, but he fully realized that his life would be endangered, did his treatment of Mary Harris reach the ears of her father. The poor girl had been deceived by a promise of marriage, and the note Mannis received was an appeal begging him to fulfil his word. The innocent creature was ignorant of the duplicity of the man she had trusted, for although many times before he had crushed young lives as if they were the merest baubles, he had managed to prevent any charges appearing against him.
For many minutes his nervous agitation was very great. He tried to drive fear from his mind by reading, but could arouse no interest in his favorite books, for the fear of Mary Harris haunted him, and he trembled for his own personal safety.
"This will never do," he suddenly said, "I will go toCleverdale and visit the Senator, and then make a pilgrimage to the great Babylon, New York, where something must turn up to help me out of my troubles."
The same evening found him at Cleverdale, and at a late hour Sargent was with him at the hotel. The precious couple engaged in a game of cards, surrounding themselves with clouds of cigar smoke, and drank champagne as they talked of Alden, and congratulated themselves their plans had worked so well. And yet each in his heart wondered what had become of the victim.
"How do you like your place, Sargent?" asked Mannis.
"It is a very good situation, but a man can hardly get rich on the salary. I'll tell you what it is, Mannis, I have had a notion for some time that the silver hills of Colorado are the place for me. Those chaps out there are fast getting rich, while we salaried men, working infernally hard, can lay up nothing. To-day I read an account of three young fellows who staked a claim last fall and now they are millionaires. The excitement is intense, and the lucky chaps have been offered millions for the claim."
"Who are they, Sargent? Where are they from?" asked Mannis.
"Hanged if I know; but I wish I was one of them. You fellows with fortunes don't know the hardships we paupers have to undergo; and the more I think of the matter, the more I believe in the advice, 'Go West, young man.'"
The two men drank so heavily that before midnight several empty bottles stood on the side-table, and both werein a very convivial condition, when Sargent, bidding Mannis good-night, wended his footsteps homeward in rather uncertain fashion.
The next forenoon Mannis arose with a headache, but did not fail to call upon Senator Hamblin, whom he found busy, as usual, but glad to meet the Congressman-elect. After a few moments' conversation, Mannis said:
"I am going to New York, Senator, for a few days' recreation. I have had the blues lately, and have prescribed for myself a week's sojourn in the gay city. The metropolis is the celestial city of the world, and when the pilgrim groans under a burden of blue devils a plunge into the pool washes away the load, and man comes forth brighter, better, and happier. The forced seclusion of the country clogs the brain, deadens the intellect, and makes man's heart heavy as lead."
"You have the blues, Mannis! Why, I supposed you never felt a care except when a candidate for the people's suffrages."
"But there is greater cause, my friend," and Mannis's voice assumed a tone of sadness. "When a man sees the dearest object of his life before him, yet, like Tantalus, putting forth his hand to grasp it, it recedes, he is unhappy."
"I cannot understand you, Mannis," said the Senator. "You speak in parables; be more explicit."
"Were I married and quietly settled in life, I should be happy; but the only woman I ever loved I fear will never be mine. Your daughter, my friend, could make me supremely content."
Senator Hamblin looked into the face of his companion and replied:
"It would gratify me much if your hopes could be realized. Cheer up and do not look so despondent. My daughter has been terribly grieved by the tragic death of her lover, but time will heal her wound. Be patient awhile longer."
"Ah, my friend, you can easily say that, but could I have the hope that at some future time she would be mine, I should indeed be happy. Urge her to receive my attentions. Tell her of my affectionate regard for her, and if she gives encouragement let me know. Here is a card containing my New York address. One word from you, and I will be here as soon as steam can convey me."
He arose to depart, and Senator Hamblin, warmly grasping his hand, said:
"Good-by, Mannis! Keep up a good heart and all may yet be well."
The door closing behind him, Mannis passed into the street, and said to himself:
"Pretty well played, Mannis, my dear boy. If the old man would only give me his ducats his pretty daughter might cry her eyes out if she wished."
An hour later he was on the train bound for New York.
Over a year had elapsed since the supposed death of George Alden. During that time Senator Hamblin had become not only changed in manner, habits, and disposition, but lines indicative of approaching age had appeared upon his brow and features. Instead of forgetting his responsibility for the supposed death of George Alden, he steadily reproached himself for his villainy.
His daughter carried her load of sorrow until it almost broke her heart. Losing all interest in worldly matters, despondency eclipsed the brilliancy and self-will that had always been characteristic of her. Fannie Alden passed many hours with her, although resisting the persistent efforts of Senator Hamblin, his wife, and daughter to induce her to become an inmate of the mansion.
She was a cheering comforter, for having arrived at an age where she could look back upon many sad and unhappy hours, she had become nerved to bear affliction with better grace than the young wife.
The inroads of grief upon Belle's health caused much alarm, her friends fearing she would not survive the shock. Her father, watching the gradual decline, and knowing he was the cause of all her trouble, lost all desire for public advancement. The efforts of his political friends to arouse and make him renew his canvass for the gubernatorial nomination proved futile. Attributing his physical condition to overwork and excitement, his business associates, ignorant of the true cause, urged him to temporarily lay aside all care and seek rest. His financial ruin appeared more imminent than before, and as the crisis seemed close at hand, peace of mind was impossible.
Still believing Mannis a rich man, and seeing no other way to extricate himself from financial embarrassment, he secretly hoped to induce Belle to become the young Congressman's wife. His critical situation had been sedulously kept from his wife and daughter, but he now realized it could not be a secret much longer. Renewing his notes often, and asking friends for re-endorsements, he began to be questioned. He passed many hours in his private office trying to devise a way out of his difficulties, but all without success. Since Sargent had become cashier of the bank, Senator Hamblin knew his situation must be known to at least one man, yet the cashier never uttered a word on the subject. Aware that the president was using the funds of the institution, Sargent cared not so long as the directors possessed such confidence in the presiding officer that they never looked into the affairs of the bank. The president was in full command, so the cashier never talked.
When fully convinced that the calamity could not be averted, Senator Hamblin determined to inform his wife and daughter of his condition. Belle's gradually declining health alarmed him, and he made himself believe that if prevailedupon to marry she might be spared. One day, upon leaving the dinner-table, he requested the presence of both ladies in his private room, and when they were seated he said:
"What I have to say will undoubtedly surprise you both. For many years, enjoying the station money gives, we have been called the wealthiest family in the county. For a long time everything I touched turned to gold, and you, my dear wife and daughter, have never known lack of luxuries. Freely giving to charity, my means have been devoted toward the advancement of the community. Foolishly believing there was no end to my success, in an evil moment I stepped aside from legitimate business, and entered the political arena. I now curse the day the temptation of power and station in public life allured me from my path, for that prize once grasped only leads one farther away from friends. It is the old, old story, yet man never considers the nine hundred and ninety-nine engulfed in the maelstrom, without believing that he can be the thousandth man to overcome all obstacles and attain the desires of his heart. What fatal error!"
"Husband, what do you mean?" Mrs. Hamblin asked.
Pausing a moment to overcome his emotion, the Senator continued:
"Engrossed in public affairs, I have forgotten my duty to you both, and spent thousands of dollars to gratify my ambition. I have neglected vast business interests and suffered heavy losses. I have been blind—yes, mad! Now I must pay the penalty. Oh, pity me, help me! For a yearpast the torments of hell have been mine, and to-day—oh, I can hardly speak the words—to-day I am—am bankrupt."
"Bankrupt!" exclaimed both women, rising.
"Yes, I have said it; bankrupt! Oh, I knew it would surprise you. No one else knows of it. The world calls me a millionaire, but my estate and business would not pay my debts."
"Darius," quietly but feelingly spoke Mrs. Hamblin, "why have you kept us in ignorance of this? We could have helped you instead of increasing your burden."
"I know it; but I have been a coward, walking about for a year vainly hoping a miracle would extricate me. My poor child's troubled face constantly before me, and my remorse at the crime of sending off her husband, have almost made me take my own life. My daily actions have been a lie, and the time is not far distant when I must be branded a villain—for all men failing are so called."
"Papa," said Belle, gently putting her arms about his neck, "I can do something to help you, and will get well for your sake. I have nothing to live for but you, dear mamma, and brother Geordie—all else that my heart yearns for lies in yonder graveyard. Fannie Alden supports herself, and why cannot I?"
"My dear daughter, I little deserve this from you, whom I have caused so much misery. Had it not been for my wife and children, I should not have hesitated crossing the border of eternity; but meditating such an act, the faces of my loved ones rising before me seemed to say: 'Wouldyou leave us to bear the disgrace alone?' My heart has been full of secret woe, and now public humiliation and disgrace must be added."
Hiding his face, for a few moments emotion overwhelmed him, and it required the combined efforts of wife and daughter to calm his agitation. For a long time he talked of his condition. He told the two women every detail of his affairs, sorrowfully confessing his own responsibility in the matter; but withholding, of course, his part in the conspiracy against George Alden.
"I have done it," he said. "No one is to blame but myself. Had I turned a deaf ear to fame, I should not now be standing on the verge of bankruptcy."
"Is there no way to extricate yourself?" asked his wife.
"I fear not, for I owe large sums of borrowed money which must be paid. People with funds lying idle have forced their hard-earned savings upon me. With unbounded credit I can raise large sums of money, but that cancer, interest, is eating the vitals of my principal. I have much real estate—enough, in fact, if advantageously disposed of, to relieve me; but what will a forced sale return? Had I another fortune to assist, I could prevent the impending disaster, and, in time, extricate myself from my present dilemma."
"Is there not a way to do what you mention?" asked Belle.
"There might be—but no—" he said, suddenly checking himself, "no—not now—I cannot hope for that."
He spoke hesitatingly, as if revolving in his mind a method whereby he could receive help. His companions noticing this, Belle said:
"Be frank with us, and if there is any possible way to assist you, let us know; perhaps we can advise you."
Gazing intently upon his daughter, he replied:
"Yes, there is one way out of this dilemma, and only one. But do not ask me now, for I cannot expect aid in that direction—no, it would be asking too much of my loved one."
"Tell us to what you refer; if in our power to assist, the danger might be averted."
Like a drowning man catching at straws, he seemed to be filled with hope of rescue; hesitating a moment, he said:
"You, my daughter, can save me."
The bewildered girl started with surprise.
"I can save you? How?"
"By becoming the wife of Walter Mannis."
The unexpected words went with crushing effect to the daughter's heart, causing her to sink into a chair. Choking spasmodically for a moment, she regained her feet, and replied:
"Marry him? No, I would die, beg, or even starve, before becoming his wife. Oh, you know not what you ask."
The look of partial joy that had gathered upon the Senator's face was followed by one of deep despair. He became very pale, and clasping both hands across his head, sighed heavily.
"No, that was too much to expect. I cannot blame you, Belle; but all is lost. We will say no more about it now. Let the crisis come; and we must take the consequences, be they what they may," and imprinting a kiss upon the foreheads of both wife and daughter, he left the room.
Belle, greatly agitated, when alone with her mother indulged in a paroxysm of tears. Sadly grieved at her father's distress, his wish that she should marry Walter Mannis almost overpowered her, for, believing Mannis indirectly to blame for the death of her husband, the mention of his name by her father seemed almost a crime.
"To think that papa desires me to marry him!" she said."WereI to comply, his victim would rise from the grave to haunt me. I wish I could prevent the calamity. Poor papa! He is greatly overcome, and I fear his failure will kill him. But marriage—and with Mannis—oh!"
In the mean time Senator Hamblin, entering his own apartment, threw himself into a chair, and muttered, "Lost—all is lost! Ruin irretrievable confronts me. The last hope is gone. I cannot blame Belle. The poor girl has greater cause than she knows for refusing to marry Mannis, but the act would have saved me. I cannot remain to face the disgrace of failure. It is only a step across the chasm, and I will take it."
Taking his pen he wrote hastily the following letter:
"My Dear WifeANDDaughter: Forgive and pity your poor distracted husband and father. I am lost; financial ruin cannot be averted. When this meets your eyes, I shallhave solved the problem of eternity. Deeply wronging you both, I have also the death of my daughter's husband to account for before the throne of God. I cannot longer bear the burden laid upon me by my mad and insatiable ambition. I charge you both to caution my boy against following in the footsteps of his father. Politics and ambition have held out tempting promises to me, which have never been fulfilled. I have used honorable public positions for my own selfish ends. Instead of assisting at making this the best government in the world of nations, my efforts have been joined with men laboring to attain place and emolument by overthrowing honesty. By precept and example I have done my share in making my country the reverse of that intended by its founders. Educate my boy to rise above the demoralizing ways of modern politicians. Impress upon his mind the necessity of joining with better men than his father in establishing this republic upon a foundation that will assure its perpetuity. Make him understand that politics should only be avoided when it leads men to seek company that destroys self-respect and corrupts honest purpose. Have him understand that 'nothing is right in politics that is wrong in any other field of life.' I lay great stress on this now, because I feel my duty in this direction has been sinfully neglected."Poor Belle! Had I been mindful of your happiness, you would not have been a victim to my mad ambition. The house and grounds were deeded to you, my wife, several years since for your maintenance and that of your children. You must not part with the property without securing a price commensurate with its value. Think of me occasionally, and remember me as the loving companion and father I was before I became infatuated with the demon who has ruined so many."Farewell forever."Your Distracted HusbandANDFather."
"My Dear WifeANDDaughter: Forgive and pity your poor distracted husband and father. I am lost; financial ruin cannot be averted. When this meets your eyes, I shallhave solved the problem of eternity. Deeply wronging you both, I have also the death of my daughter's husband to account for before the throne of God. I cannot longer bear the burden laid upon me by my mad and insatiable ambition. I charge you both to caution my boy against following in the footsteps of his father. Politics and ambition have held out tempting promises to me, which have never been fulfilled. I have used honorable public positions for my own selfish ends. Instead of assisting at making this the best government in the world of nations, my efforts have been joined with men laboring to attain place and emolument by overthrowing honesty. By precept and example I have done my share in making my country the reverse of that intended by its founders. Educate my boy to rise above the demoralizing ways of modern politicians. Impress upon his mind the necessity of joining with better men than his father in establishing this republic upon a foundation that will assure its perpetuity. Make him understand that politics should only be avoided when it leads men to seek company that destroys self-respect and corrupts honest purpose. Have him understand that 'nothing is right in politics that is wrong in any other field of life.' I lay great stress on this now, because I feel my duty in this direction has been sinfully neglected.
"Poor Belle! Had I been mindful of your happiness, you would not have been a victim to my mad ambition. The house and grounds were deeded to you, my wife, several years since for your maintenance and that of your children. You must not part with the property without securing a price commensurate with its value. Think of me occasionally, and remember me as the loving companion and father I was before I became infatuated with the demon who has ruined so many.
"Farewell forever.
"Your Distracted HusbandANDFather."
Enclosing the letter in an envelope, he addressed it "To my Wife and Daughter," and placed it where it would beseen. With a sad face he then proceeded to arrange his papers and carefully prepare a schedule containing a full inventory of his indebtedness. Then he arose, and taking a hasty survey of the room, said:
"Farewell to all my sorrows and happiness!"
Then he left the house, going toward the barn. Passing through the yard where Geordie was at play, he went to him, and putting his arms about the little fellow, said:
"My son, always be a good boy and obey your mother and sister."
As he kissed him Geordie said:
"Yes, Papa; I will try and be good to them, and to you too."
Senator Hamblin entered the barn, and looking about saw he was alone. Taking a knife from his pocket and cutting a piece from a coil of rope upon the floor, he fastened it to a beam overhead, and placing a box underneath measured the length necessary to reach his neck. Falling upon his knees he poured forth his voice to God in prayer. Yes, for the first time in many years, Senator Hamblin prayed. But the act did not seem to do him any good, for when he had finished he mounted the box, and adjusted the rope about his neck; his face was overspread with the pallor of death and his eyes were suffused with tears.
"God forgive me," he said, and as he kicked away the box it went crashing through the window near him.
The noise reaching the ears of Geordie, in an instant the boy stood in the doorway. One glance toward the writhing form suspended in mid-air, and the little fellow ran withlightning speed toward the house, meeting his mother and sister coming toward him.
"Papa! quick! in the barn!" he exclaimed.
Mother and daughter, not waiting for further information, flew wildly in the direction indicated, and entering the barn, both paused as if paralyzed, Mrs. Hamblin catching the door for support. Belle quickly ran and, seizing the quivering body in her arms, cried to her mother:
"Quick! quick! Cut the rope, for he is not dead." Mrs. Hamblin, pulling the knife from the beam where her husband had placed it, a quick stroke severed the rope, and the limp form fell to the floor. Movements of hands and limbs showed that life still remained, and the two women quickly began the work of restoring consciousness. After five minutes they observed signs of returning life. Soon the Senator opened his eyes, and seeing the women bending over him, he said:
"Why, why did you do this? I care not to live."
Half an hour later he lay upon the bed in his own room, his wife and daughter standing over him, administering to his comfort, for he was utterly prostrated.
"Why, oh, why did you cross my purpose?" he said. "I am lost. Belle destroyed my last hope. But I do not blame her."
His daughter, engaged bathing his temples, said:
"Oh, Papa, do you wish to leave us?"
"No! but I cannot remain and face this disgrace. No! I must go, I must go unless, unless—" He hesitated.
"Unless what?" quickly interrupted Belle.
"Unless you save me by marrying Walter Mannis," he said.
Belle, looking into his pale face and blood-shot eyes, fully realized his broken-down condition. Finding that there was but one hope of saving his life, a deep sigh escaped her, and she gasped:
"Well—I—I—I will sacrifice myself—I will—marry Mr. Mannis," and she fell fainting across the form of her father.
The excitement over the "Three Boys" mine called many adventurers to the vicinity. Capitalists came in great numbers, and the three lucky owners were the lions of the hour. The fame of the new mine extending far away, the leading journals of the land were filled with graphic accounts of the bonanza. The owners described, men wondered who they really were, as no knowledge of whence they came could be obtained. They gave their names as George Howard, Ralph Waters, and Frank Bentley, and that was all the curious ones could learn about them.
Already, the partners had ordered improved machinery needed to work the mines. The wealth of the "Three Boys" was computed at several millions, and of course the owners were abundantly able to borrow all the funds necessary to assist them in developing their prize. Men came forward, offering to advance all the money required and take stock in the mine, but the shrewd owners thought best to hold aloof from any connection with others. George Howard's thorough knowledge of banking was valuable in assisting them to obtain money from banks, so they were independent of any aid others could afford, and all thepressure of outsiders to be allowed an interest was unavailing.
George Howard, under his assumed name, was the same methodical and honorable man as when in the bank at Cleverdale. He was the head of the firm in all financial matters; his advice always resulted in the concern's advantage. His embrowned and healthy face covered with a handsome beard, and his eyes sparkling with all the vivacity of yore, the impression that his frank, straight-forward manner made upon all with whom he associated was always favorable. He was thoroughly relied upon by his companions, and when indulging in moments of despondency they labored earnestly to restore him to good nature. A perfect gentleman, a refined and cultivated spirit, and, withal, one versed so well in business matters, they wondered why he had become an adventurer in the wilds of Colorado. Many times the two conversed together concerning their partner, yet no suspicion of wrong on his part ever entered their mind. It was decided between them that a love affair and blasted affections had sent George Howard out into the world to seek his fortune and open a new book of life. They were satisfied to accept this explanation, and their companion rose in their respect as they did so.
One day a stranger appeared at the new mine, and asked many questions. He claimed to represent a wealthy banking-house in Chicago, and it was not long before George Howard was perfectly satisfied that the gentleman was all he represented himself to be. After forming the acquaintanceof the three partners, the stranger unfolded the object of his visit, which was nothing less than to purchase the claim or induce the owners to open negotiations with a view to forming a stock company. Painting a glowing picture of the advantage to be gained by the latter plan, he assured the firm they could realize a fortune at once.
George Howard, not in favor of the latter plan, was not averse to selling the mine, providing the purchasers would pay enough. Although not a jockey at a trade, he was shrewd enough to know the firm owned wealth such as he had never dreamed of possessing. While assuring Mr. James of the firm's disinclination to enter into a speculation, he would confer with his companions with a view to selling their claim. And the result of the consultation was the decision to sell the mine.
Mr. James requesting time to consult by mail with his partners, a week afterward a letter from the bankers asked an interview with the owners of the mine at Chicago, and three days later the four men were on their way. For two days after their arrival the banking-house labored to induce the miners to form a stock company, but, after exhausting their powers of persuasion without avail, the firm finally offered three million dollars for the mine. The offer was accepted, the sale soon effected, and the young men, with a million dollars each, were happy.
George Alden,aliasHoward, sat alone in his room at a hotel, and said to himself:
"What a change since my first visit here, one year and a half ago! Then I was broken down in health and full ofsorrow. Time has wrought many changes in me, for to-day I am strong in both body and mind, and possess a fortune of a million dollars. But with this money I cannot obtain the happiness I desire. My wife's cruel letter, that nearly killed me, recurs to my mind many times a day. What shall I do? I am a millionaire, but cannot return to Cleverdale to be spurned by her as if I were a thief! No, I will go and see the good Mrs. Nash, tell her the story of my life, and then seek a foreign clime, and in travel try to drive the one great sorrow from my heart. Oh, Belle, my darling wife, how happy we might be! Your proud father would not scorn me now on account of financial standing. I will go this day to see Mrs. Nash, remain with the good woman a short time, and see that her future is made more comfortable."
Two hours later the three partners separated, Waters and Bentley taking trains for their destination, while George Howard went directly to the residence of Mrs. Nash. The good woman at first did not recognize him, as he stood before her in the little parlor of her home, but after closely scanning his face her delight was unbounded. She had heard of his prosperity, but when informed of his selling his interest in the mine for one million dollars, she could scarcely realize the truth of the assertion.
"One million dollars!" she exclaimed. "The day of miracles has returned to us."
That day Alden told the motherly woman his story. He told her of his childhood; his struggle to obtain an education; his career as salesman in a store; and his appointment as teller in the bank. He told of the happy weeks at Lake George, where he met the love of his heart, and then related the opposition of her father. As he proceeded, Mrs. Nash became much interested. He spoke of his adventure in the burning factory, describing his injuries and sufferings. He told of his long illness, and the secret marriage, and when he described the happy days following, he could scarcely control his emotion. He told of the parting between his wife and himself; the false accusations against his honor, his weak condition causing him to flee from home and friends, and then he related the particulars of his flight and the cruel letter. Suddenly Mrs. Nash arose excitedly, and asked:
"What is your rightfulname?"
"Alden—George Alden."
"George Alden? And was Cleverdale the place you fled from?"
"Yes; but you are agitated; what—what is it?"
"There has been a great mistake somewhere. You are mourned as dead."
"My God! Mrs. Nash, what do you mean?" exclaimed George. "Imourned as dead?"
"Yes, wait here a moment. I have a paper containing full particulars. Your poor wife could never have written that letter. But I will get the paper."
A moment later she returned. Greatly excited, Alden seized the newspaper, which bore date of a year and a half previous. His eyes fell upon a marked article, which read as follows:
[From the Cleverdale, N. Y.,Investigator.]
"We are called upon to chronicle one of the saddest tragedies that ever occurred in this locality. The facts of the case are as follows: Last fall the Cleverdale Woollen Mill was destroyed by fire, and one of the bravest and noblest acts of the age was performed by George Alden, cashier of the Cleverdale National Bank. The immense factory employed seven hundred men, women, and children, and, as the flames burst forth, one hundred and fifty persons on the third floor were cut off from escape, except by the way of two doors only reached by running a gauntlet of fire. Poor Alden succeeded in relieving the captives, but his bravery nearly cost him his life; for several months he languished on a bed of suffering, and approached the door of eternity. Kind attention and skilful treatment brought him up, but the sad catastrophe left him weak in mind and body. His lifeless form was found on Friday last, in Reynolds Grove, a bullet-hole in the brain and a pistol lying at the side of the unfortunate man telling too plainly of his death by suicide."
"We are called upon to chronicle one of the saddest tragedies that ever occurred in this locality. The facts of the case are as follows: Last fall the Cleverdale Woollen Mill was destroyed by fire, and one of the bravest and noblest acts of the age was performed by George Alden, cashier of the Cleverdale National Bank. The immense factory employed seven hundred men, women, and children, and, as the flames burst forth, one hundred and fifty persons on the third floor were cut off from escape, except by the way of two doors only reached by running a gauntlet of fire. Poor Alden succeeded in relieving the captives, but his bravery nearly cost him his life; for several months he languished on a bed of suffering, and approached the door of eternity. Kind attention and skilful treatment brought him up, but the sad catastrophe left him weak in mind and body. His lifeless form was found on Friday last, in Reynolds Grove, a bullet-hole in the brain and a pistol lying at the side of the unfortunate man telling too plainly of his death by suicide."
George Alden paused a moment to calm his agitation, and then proceeded:
"The body was horribly decomposed, the face being unrecognizable, the clothing alone proving the identity of the poor fellow."It was a sad ending of a noble life, and never did a community mourn for one of its citizens as the people of Cleverdale mourn for poor George Alden. Two women in this affliction are entitled to our deepest sympathy. His sister has lost the companion of her life, while the beautiful daughter of Senator Hamblin is utterly prostrated by the sad event. George Alden was an estimable young man, and the love and respect of the whole community wasshown when all business was suspended to allow a public demonstration of sorrow at the grave of Cleverdale's hero."
"The body was horribly decomposed, the face being unrecognizable, the clothing alone proving the identity of the poor fellow.
"It was a sad ending of a noble life, and never did a community mourn for one of its citizens as the people of Cleverdale mourn for poor George Alden. Two women in this affliction are entitled to our deepest sympathy. His sister has lost the companion of her life, while the beautiful daughter of Senator Hamblin is utterly prostrated by the sad event. George Alden was an estimable young man, and the love and respect of the whole community wasshown when all business was suspended to allow a public demonstration of sorrow at the grave of Cleverdale's hero."
Alden dropped the paper and exclaimed, "Oh, my poor wife! how I have wronged you! But who are the villains who have done this? I have been the victim of a wicked conspiracy. To-night I will leave for Cleverdale. I must go at once, for I have deeply wronged my wife. But perhaps she is dead! Oh no, shemustbe alive, and her father will not turn me off now."
Making immediate preparations to leave Chicago, he presented his kind friend with a generous sum of money, promising to write her on his arrival at Cleverdale. That night he was on a train bound for the East. He remembered how full of sorrow he was when he arrived in the city, eighteen months previous. Now he was returning to his home and kindred, unconscious of the events going forward at Cleverdale to rob him of his wife.
His first thought was to telegraph his friends, informing them of his coming, but he finally concluded to hasten on and verify his existence in the flesh by his own person and with his own lips.