THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 As IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 A STORY OF 
 
 AMERICAN LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 BY TREBOR. 
 
 "Every man is odd." SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 PORTER & COATES, 
 PHILADELPHIA.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by 
 
 PORTER & COAXES, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 ALL DRAMATIC RIGHTS RESERVED.
 
 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A STRANGE COUPLE. 
 
 THE village of Slowville had within its boundary-line 
 two strange characters, who, for a long time, had suc 
 cessfully resisted all attempts to discover their history, or 
 explore the mystery of their daily lives. Yet every man 
 and woman, and almost every child in the village, had 
 either seen or knew something about Nicholas Grundle 
 and his companion, Emily a girl whose great beauty was 
 the engrossing topic among the young and old men of 
 that region. Of this mysterious couple the people of 
 Slowville really knew but little, and that little this : Nich 
 olas Grundle was old, ugly, and, so far as his character 
 could be judged by limited means of observation, a miser. 
 He lived in a small house, already tottering to its ruin, 
 some two miles from the village, with no companions in 
 this lonely home except a beautiful girl, verging on 
 womanhood, a sharp-fanged mastiff, and a double-bar 
 reled gun. 
 
 Beyond these facts, gained by several years of persistent 
 and anxious observation, the public of Slowville had been 
 unable, in their eager desire and search for information, 
 to find out anything about the domestic life of this man 
 and girl, between whom there was such a great contrast 
 of age and appearance. Six years ago, Nicholas Grundle 
 had come to the village, in company with the child and 
 an old woman, and bought the home where he now was. 
 From the first he had been an intensely secretive man, 
 neither asking nor answering questions, nor allowing any 
 intercourse, the most trivial, between his companions and 
 the villagers. Since the death of this old woman, some 
 i * 5
 
 6 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 four years after he bad entered this abode, Nicholas Grun- 
 dle had grown even more secretive, if that were possible 
 to one who had already made the world a blank to him 
 self and his remaining companion. During these past 
 two years, no one, on any pretense and repeated were 
 the attempts by those who pitied the girl, or longed for a 
 sight of her beauty had been allowed to enter his home. 
 AVhether with stranger or acquaintance friends he had 
 none he always transacted his business either in the front 
 yard, or, if writing were necessary, at a little rickety sec 
 retary in his barn, where an old cow, with one stumpy 
 horn, was the sole witness of the business in hand. In 
 this dusty receptacle, covered with hay seed or stray 
 wisps of straw, were scraps of writing paper, evidently 
 torn from some old ledger. A small bottle of ink, with 
 out a label, stood in the corner, the fluid in which had 
 been so many times diluted with vinegar that it looked 
 paler in its tracery than even the blood that flowed slug 
 gishly in the veins of the old miser's hand. In another 
 corner lay a pen, made of an old goose-quill, that sput 
 tered continually when he made his signature, as if it 
 were protesting against giving so mean a name a visible 
 form. 
 
 Not only did Nicholas Grundle so jealously guard the 
 privacy of his house, but it was also impossible for any 
 body, not even the mild and wary parson, to draw him 
 into a conversation that touched in the slightest particular 
 upon matters pertaining to himself personally, or his beau 
 tiful companion, or their mode of living. To such a ques 
 tioner and one now seldom presented himself, unless he 
 were a stranger by the wayside the old man, whistling 
 for his dog, would make such an angry reply that the in 
 terrogator instantly bethought himself how soonest to get 
 out of the man's reach, without further exciting his ire, 
 or arousing that of the grim, growling beast beside him. 
 Nor were people, even those of her own sex, any more 
 success t'ul in endeavoring, through the girl, to gratify their 
 curiosity, or relieve their anxiety, concerning the relations 
 between the old man and herself. She treated all such in 
 quiries as he did, and, turning away her drooping blue eyes, 
 would answer no questions, no matter how kindly or gently
 
 A STRANGE COUPLE. 1 
 
 put, that bore upon the mystery of their intercourse. As 
 if to be safer from all such questionings, she always kept 
 within sight or hearing of her strange associate when any 
 one came to the house. And to further guard her secret, 
 she never ventured outside of the garden-gate unless she 
 were in the company of the old man or the dog, who, in like 
 manner as his master, warned away, with a dangerous 
 gleam in his eyes, any one who dared approach his charge. 
 
 This, then, was all the villagers knew of the life of 
 Nicholas Grundle and the fair maiden Vho was his coun 
 terpart in all that was secretive and reserved. Beyond 
 these apparent facts, all that rumor incessantly repeated 
 about the strange pair was mere inference and specula 
 tion. Nor could the tales that were told every night at 
 tilt Green Tree Inn, of the questionable and suspicious 
 proceedings in " old Grundle's hut," ever be traced to one 
 who could say he had himself seen thein, or who was able, 
 when closely pressed, to give the source of his informa 
 tion ; for, during the night as well as the day, the interior 
 of this secret dwelling, its thick board shutters tightly 
 closed, was shrouded in a mystery that the skillful eye of 
 the shrewdest explorer of dark retreats could not pierce. 
 If one should come that way at night and sometimes a 
 curious and daring villager, not afraid of the old woman's 
 unmarked grave in the corner of the yard, would recon 
 noitre the silent premises he could see there no signs of 
 life except a faint wreath of smoke, that floated away in 
 some weird shape from the ragged, toppling chimney. 
 And if, perchance, growing more bold in spite of the un 
 defined fear that crept over him, he should venture as far 
 as the garden-gate, he would not stay long to listen to the 
 low growl of the mastiff within, which sound alone broke 
 the tomb-like silence of the place ; for no one ever heard 
 the soft, quick steps of the miser, when, thus alarmed, he 
 caught up his gun, and hastened to his outlook, a half- 
 concealed window in the second story. Here, placing his 
 threatening eye against a large hole cut in the bottom of 
 the shutter, he had ample field for the range of his vision, 
 or the deadly weapon that trembled in his hand. 
 
 Such was the mystery that surrounded the life in old 
 Grundle's hut. Although the grievously disappointed
 
 8 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 and exasperated villagers had used every means but force 
 to solve it, they were, at the end of their six years' effort 
 in this direction, no wiser than when they began ; for all 
 they knew of what took place within its walls, Nicholas 
 Grundle's house might as well have been a pyramid in 
 the desert. 
 
 By one who was coming down the road, straight to 
 this dwelling, a few of its secrets had been fathomed, 
 and by him enough of its inner life was known to make 
 him more than ever resolved that this night he would 
 talk face to face with Nicholas Grundle, and if pos 
 sible force him to a satisfactory answer in the matter so 
 soon to be at issue between them. He was a young man 
 of about twenty years, though his intellectual face and 
 prominent forehead gave him a far older appearance, and 
 seldom was his countenance without that grave expression 
 which betokens the busy and thoughtful mind. His sen 
 sitive chin and lips were slightly bearded, while his thick 
 brows half concealed eyes as black as the night in which 
 he walked. He carried in his hand, soft and fair as a 
 woman's, a hickory stick, which he swung with nervous en 
 ergy, now gripping it more firmly, as his brows knitted in 
 doubt or half-suppressed anger, or twirling it as lightly as if 
 it were a twig, when his eyes flashed with a brighter light, 
 and a ray of kindling hope played for an instant across 
 his features. Dark and silent as the night was for 
 neither moon nor stars were visible, and dense clouds en 
 veloped the heavens he seemed at no loss to find his way, 
 but walked on as surely and steadily as if the noonday 
 sun were shining upon him. He now turned from the 
 road and went straight as an arrow to Nicholas Grundle's 
 garden-gate. Unfastening this, and shutting it with a 
 loud noise to announce his coming, he strode up the 
 path. A moment later he leaped upon the step, and 
 rapped firmly yet gently upon the weather-beaten door.
 
 WHO WAS THE STRANGER? 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHO WAS THE STRANGER ? 
 
 FROM the last passenger train that passed through the 
 outskirts of Slowville this clay, there alighted a single 
 passenger, a tall, black-bearded man, who, leaping from the 
 car before it had stopped, disappeared in the dark shadow 
 of the Station. There for an instant he stood, taking his 
 bearings with a quickness and keenness of vision that in 
 one sweep, despite the gathering night, comprehended all 
 the surroundings of the place, and assured him of the di 
 rection of the village, as well as of its general conforma 
 tion. Across the railroad track, and beyond him about 
 half a mile, were the houses of Slowville, nestling on the 
 top and slope of a steep hill, and from the rows of light 
 that twinkled from the dwellings on either side of a broad, 
 dark space, he saw there was but one street, and that a 
 straight one, up the hill, and through the middle of the 
 town. Looking more intently, as if in search of it, he 
 detected, with the trifle of a smile, a dull, red light, which 
 some intervening object had hitherto obscured. This light 
 he knew, from long familiarity with those of its kind, to be 
 the tavern-lamp. Taking this as his guide, he cautiously 
 emerged from his concealment, and, satisfied that his ar 
 rival had been unobserved by the station-master, made his 
 way into the main road, and hurried on to the village. 
 
 Here, to his evident satisfaction for he shrugged his 
 shoulders, with a complacent air he found the street en 
 tirely deserted. The people had long since congregated, 
 for some public meeting, in the Town Hall, at the far 
 ther end of the village. Approaching the tavern with a 
 stealthy step, he crept to one of the front windows, from 
 which streamed a bright light, and looked in beneath the 
 half-drawn curtain. A single glance was enough. He 
 opened the door and entered. 
 
 It was the usual bar-room of a country tavern. A large 
 stove, glowing with an unattended fire, stood in the cen 
 tre of the apartment, and around it were grouped, in the 
 disorder left by recent guests, chairs, old, whittled and
 
 10 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 battered, and large, square boxes, spittoons evidently none 
 too capacious for their use. Under one of the windows 
 Avas a wide bench, with a buffalo robe stretched upon it, 
 and a couple of horse-blankets rolled up at one of its 
 ends, as if this arrangement served as a bed for some one 
 about the premises. On the Avails were the usual decora 
 tions of prints, in many colors, of noted prize-fighters, 
 their brawny forms stripped to the Avaist ; celebrated 
 horses, in all the various positions of the race-course 
 winners, all of them ; and here and there, as if to cater 
 solely for amateurs in female beauty, were the graceful 
 forms and fairer faces of notorious women of ancient and 
 modern times. Nor Avere there wanting pictures of 
 famous dogs, ready poised for the fight in which they 
 had earned their celebrity; or of bulls and COAVS, rams 
 and ewes, cocks and hens, which had all Avon prizes in 
 the different agricultural fairs. Indeed, in the lowest 
 order of aesthetic art, this picture gallery of the Green 
 Tree Inn lacked nothing that its frequenters could de 
 sire, save the occasional notices of a sheriff's sale which 
 intruded for a Aveek or so upon its Avails. 
 
 The traveler, tossing his valise upon a chair, rapidly 
 glanced around the room, and then, with a loud "Hem !" 
 advanced to the bar, behind the counter of Avhich Avas just 
 visible a head, covered with a shock of sandy hair, which 
 belonged to a young man, fast asleep. 
 
 " Hello ! business must be dull, if you can aiford to 
 sleep so early in the evening," said the newcomer, as the 
 youth opened his eyes with a listless yawn, and, like an 
 old man, rose sloAvly to his feet, letting his chair fall back 
 upon the floor. 
 
 "Yes," with another and a longer yawn, as he stretched 
 his arms over his head; "biz is off just now. All the 
 fellows are over at the Lyceum to-night. They won't be 
 back" under a couple of hours ; so 1 thought I'd take a 
 quiet snooze, by way of a change. This tending bar all 
 day and up to midnight makes a fellow snatch at a chance 
 to sleep, like a hungry dog at a stray bone. But I say, 
 stranger, excuse me," placing a tumbler on the bar, and 
 turning toward the array of bottles on the shelf in his 
 rear; "what Avill you have? We've got good liquors,
 
 WHO WAS THE STRANGER? H 
 
 and I can mix you anything you want, from the best 
 punch down to a simple gin and sugar. Nothing like a 
 man knowing his business ; and, thanks to rny experience 
 and observation, and ' The Barkeeper's Guide and Univer 
 sal Mixer,' you will find me up in mine. But hold up ; 
 my tongue is running away with me. They all say I've 
 got a forty-horse power tongue. What was it you said 
 you would take?" 
 
 "I didn't intend to take anything just now; but as you 
 are such a clever, sociable fellow, I can't refuse. Suppose 
 you make me a Scotch whiskey punch, in your best style, 
 and mix one for yourself at the same time. Clinked 
 glasses, you know, make a merry drink." 
 
 "Now you do talk! You're a city chap, I can see. 
 Not that I always drink with a customer, but I like- to be 
 asked by a gentleman such as you are, and there's mighty 
 few of your kind that comes to the Green Tree, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 "Have a cigar?" asked the stranger, unbuttoning his 
 coat, which displayed the plain and neat attire of a gen 
 tleman, and taking from his pocket a cigar case, which he 
 opened and extended to the young man, who was already 
 vigorously at work with his concoctions. 
 
 " Thank you ! Don't care if I do !" taking one, and 
 snuffing up its odor with an appreciative nod, as he lighted 
 a naatch. "That is a cigar a regular Havana. Smells 
 like a June rose. Whew !" blowing out a puff of its 
 blue, fragrant smoke "it's fit for a duke, it is ! But," 
 suddenly resuming his labors, "here I am again, talking 
 away like old Gagger at the Lyceum. And they've got 
 a question there to-night that suits him to a dot, you can 
 bet something about believing the Bible." 
 
 " W'hat Gagger is that?" asked the man, with a slight 
 start and a sudden increase of attention in his face, which 
 the young man did not notice; for he was just now giving 
 the finishing circular touches of two delicate pieces of 
 lemon rind to his productions. 
 
 " Why, Silas Gagger, who lives about two miles out on 
 the pike. He's as cross as he is conceited ! Thinks he 
 knows more than* all the people in Slowville put together. 
 If the world would only do as he says, I believe he thinks
 
 12 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 it would get along without law or gospel. But I tell you 
 the world could get along leastwise this part of it here in 
 Slowville better without than with him. He's always 
 attending to everybody's business but his own. Between 
 you and me, there's lots of folk here would take a very 
 willing hand in shoveling dirt into his grave; and no one 
 would make the dirt fly more lively" lowering his voice 
 into a confidential whisper as he leaned over the bar 
 " than his wife. Take me for a noodle, but she is a hand 
 some woman! Eyes like stars, and lips Whew! talk 
 of strawberries and cream ! There, see how you like that 
 punch I" pushing the steaming glass toward the man, who 
 had been suddenly seized with a fit of coughing, and had 
 stepped bade a pace or two with averted face, his hand, 
 with a jeweled finger, which instantly caught Dibbs' atten 
 tion, shading his eyes. " What's the matter ? I never saw 
 a cough take a man so on a sudden as that. Here, a swal 
 low of this punch will cure it." 
 
 "Oh, it's nothing! Only a frog in my throat," rejoin 
 ed the other, with a light laugh, taking up" the glass and 
 slowly sipping its contents. " That is a good punch. You 
 are what I should call a whiskeyrial artist. It's a pity, my 
 young man, your abilities cannot display themselves in a 
 better field than this. You ought to have a bar in some 
 big city. You would make your fortune there." 
 
 " That's just my lay. I'm hiving money for that very 
 same. If things work all right, I'm going down to Phila 
 delphia next year and try my hand at a bar of my own. 
 I am bound to be rich, I am. Worse fellows than I have 
 made their fortunes in cities. Are you from Philadelphia? 
 Perhaps you know of some good saloon there I could buy 
 out, say a year from now." 
 
 " No, I am not from Philadelphia, but my business often 
 calls me there. I will bear in mind what you have said. 
 Should I see a good opening for a fellow of your genius, I 
 will drop you a line." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you ! You're the first man that 
 ever took an interest in Bill Dibbs, and I want to shake 
 hands with you," stretching his broad, wet palm across the 
 counter. 
 
 The other gave it a hearty grasp, and reiterated, in the
 
 WHO WAS THE STRANGER f 13 
 
 strongest manner, his good opinion of, and still better in 
 tentions toward, the young man, who was now beaming 
 upon him with a look of mingled gratitude and admi 
 ration. 
 
 " Would you let me see that ring ?" said Dibbs, point 
 ing at the jewel. 
 
 " Certainly/' rejoined the other, extending his hand to 
 the curious Dibbs, who examined the ring with exclama 
 tions of pleasure. 
 
 " That's a mighty odd ring a snake, with two rubies 
 for eyes," commented Dibbs, as he released the man's hand, 
 but still kept his eyes on the jewel. "I wouldn't mind 
 owning one like it." 
 
 " If you had such a ring, you would be in luck," re- 
 jomed the stranger, with a significant and mysterious look. 
 " Some day I may tell you the history of this ring. There 
 is not another like it in the world. But come, friend 
 Dibbs, let us sit down and have a little chat. I am a great 
 lover of gossip worse than a woman in that respect and 
 would like to hear what's going on in this town. I sup 
 pose you have an odd character or two here, like all vil 
 lages some one that everybody talks about ?" 
 
 " Indeed we have," replied the youth, lying back in 
 one chair, and cocking his feet high upon another, while 
 he puffed away at his cigar. " There is old Nicholas 
 Grand le, the miser, and the sweetest girl you ever saw, 
 Emily, that lives with him. Take me for a noodle, but 
 she is a beauty ! Just my style hair like gold, and eyes 
 blue as the sky. But, pshaw!" with something like a sigh 
 and a hopeless shake of the head, " it's no use of my pin 
 ing after her. She is kept too close for courting ; and, 
 besides, Volney Slade has got the inside track there ; and 
 he passed the three-quarter pole long ago " 
 
 " Slade ! What Slade ? It seems to me that name is 
 familiar !" interrupted the stranger, with a slight cough, 
 but not stirring from his half-concealed seat behind the 
 stove, where he sat in an arm-chair, throwing out clouds 
 of cigar smoke, that obscured his features and completely 
 veiled the alternating expression of surprise and excited 
 interest that played rapidly across them. 
 
 "Why, Volney Slade is old Gagger-'s stepson. Before 
 2
 
 14 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 old Gagger married the Widow Slade, five years ago, she 
 had this son Volney by her first husband, whose name, they 
 say, was Seth Slade, and he was lost, so I heard old Gag 
 ger tell my boss, in one of the Pacific steamers, seven years 
 aii'o. She didn't wait for her dear Seth to get very cold, 
 did she ? I tell you, you can't depend on these handsome 
 widows to keep single more than a year or two especially 
 if the first husband was poor and the second one comes 
 along with a bag of gold under each arm. Widows arc 
 always in training, they are and that's where they have 
 the advantage over the girls." 
 
 The stranger had risen from his seat and crossed over 
 to the bar, where he poured out a glass of water, and 
 with the same averted face as before, he was a long while 
 in quenching his thirst. Then he returned to his chair 
 and with a laugh as forced as it was hollow, bade his com 
 panion go on with his story and his observations. 
 
 " I say, my good fellow," he added, "yon are the best 
 story-teller I have met in many a day ; you are brief, but 
 you don't omit any of the points of interest in your nar 
 rations, and your observations would do credit to an older 
 head." 
 
 Excited to greater efforts by this compliment, the youth 
 now opened up, without the slightest reserve, his budget 
 of gossip and rumor, and in profusion of statement or 
 minuteness of detail he proved himself no feeble historian 
 or biographer of the eccentric people of Slowville. In 
 the next half-hour his companion was in possession of all 
 that was at that time known or surmised in Slowville con 
 cerning Nicholas Grundle and Emily, his wealth and her 
 relations to him ; Silas Gagger, and his many crotchets ; 
 his second wife, her beauty and secluded life; and the 
 stepson, whose requited love for Emily made him the 
 envy of the men, married or single, as Dibbs expressed it, 
 for miles around. With this information, supplemented by 
 descriptions of Grundle's hut and Gagger's farm-house, the 
 location of which the loquacious and ready Dibbs traced 
 with a cane on the sanded floor, the stranger arose, but 
 toned up his coat, and took his valise, an odd-looking 
 affair, in his hand. 
 
 " Why I thought you were going to stay at the Green
 
 WHO WAS THE STRANGER? 15 
 
 Tree all night?" said the youth, disappointed and sur 
 prised at the sudden preparations for departure. 
 
 " So I am," he replied. " I have some business to 
 transact at the village store. Then I may stray over to 
 the Lyceum for a little while. You can look for me in 
 about two hours from now. Have a fire and light in my 
 room. I will immediately go to it when I return." 
 
 So saying, he went out, and disappeared down the street 
 from the view of the young man, who watched him from 
 the tavern-door, wondering who he was and what had 
 brought him to Slowville. 
 
 " Take me for a noodle, what a fool I was !" he mut 
 tered, going back into the bar-room with a violent slam 
 of the door. "Here I let him pump me for an hour, and 
 I newer so much as asked him his name. Well, I'll get 
 even with him when he comes back, and I'll find out who 
 he is, or Bill Dibbs will be a noodle, sure. And what a 
 queer-looking valise he had!" he continued, musingly. 
 " It had three locks on it. I counted them, and the whole 
 thing looked as if it was made out of sheet iron. I'll bet 
 he's got valuables in that. JEgad, I would like to see in 
 side that valise. Well, if I am smart, maybe I'll get a 
 chance." 
 
 Then Dibbs shuffled into his seat behind the bar, and 
 began to guess what the man might be, and what he might 
 be carrying around in that strong, iron-bound valise. 
 
 In the mean time the stranger had passed through the 
 deepest shadows of the street, stealing along in the darkness 
 like one in search of hiding. He neither turned toward 
 the store nor gave more than a hasty glance at the Lyceum, 
 but going by them with rapid steps, he took the direction 
 of the country road. Along this he strode with a flushed 
 face, for his heart beat rapidly and sent the blood bound 
 ing to his temples. Yet there was little of passion in his 
 countenance nothing more than a hard, cruel smile hover 
 ing about his lips, such as one would wear who knew that 
 his presence in the farm-house of Silas Gagger would this 
 night be both a terror and a triumph.
 
 16 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 A GLIMPSE INTO THE WA YSIDE HUT. 
 
 " "\7~OU are cruel very cruel to me !" she moaned, in 
 
 JL a voice that ought to have touched his heart with 
 pity, as she sank down at his feet and buried her face on 
 his knees, weeping so silently that her sobs were scarcely 
 audible. 
 
 The old man was silent, and made no reply. Unutter 
 able anger and reproach were in his eyes, and voiceless 
 contempt curled his lip. At any other time her tears 
 would have moved him, and he would have laid a caress 
 ing touch upon the fair head that was pillowed so close to 
 him. But now, overpowered by feelings he could not ex 
 press, lie brought his thin hands together in a convulsive 
 clasp, and falling back in his chair, gazed with a look of 
 utter desolation at the dim fire, which, even as he bent his 
 eyes upon it, flickered faintly upon the hearth and then 
 expired, leaving the room in darkness. A congenial dark 
 ness to both he with his hopes that had received this 
 night such a sudden promise of ruin, and she with fears 
 that now increased with a strange indefiniteness of form. 
 
 At length he spoke. Pushing her away from him with 
 no gentle thrust of his hand, he rose to his feet. He tot 
 tered across the floor in the dim light of the rekindling 
 fire, looking back all the while at where she lay beside his 
 chair, and when he had reached the farther end of the 
 room, he said : " So this is your gratitude, is it ? This 
 your thanks for all my years of love and care ? Oh, Em 
 ily, Emily !" As he uttered her name, there seemed to 
 come something of a woman's tenderness into his voice 
 a deep yet loving reproach. 
 
 She sprang to her feet at these words, and ran to him 
 with a little cry of joy. She threw her arms about his 
 neck and kissed him, and begged him not to judge her so 
 harshly, imploring him to still believe that she loved 
 him. 
 
 ; ' You know, dear father, how I love you !" she cried, 
 holding on to him, with her soft arms twined more closely
 
 A GLIMPSE INTO THE WAYSIDE HUT. 17 
 
 about him, as he strove to put her away from him. 
 " Dear father, don't push me away your own little Em 
 ily ! I know I cannot repay you for all you have been 
 to me so kind, so good, such a dear, gentle father ! For 
 give me, father dear, if I have annoyed you in loving him. 
 I did not mean to I could not help it. He he made 
 me love him I" 
 
 Blushing at this confession why, she knew not, for it 
 was as honest as her heart was pure she hid her scarlet 
 cheek upon his breast. 
 
 These last words brought back the angry look which 
 her former pleading had driven from his face. 
 
 He gave a bitter laugh, one of scorn, that ended in a 
 muttered curse, as, with all the strength of his feeble 
 framfe, he hurled her from him. Then, without so much 
 as a glance at her, as she reeled across the room and sank 
 with a low cry into her chair, he took up a candle and 
 lighted it at the fireplace, and turned to the door that led 
 to the cellar. The dog, who had been until now a silent 
 spectator of what had occurred, rose from his place by the 
 outer door and came toward his master. 
 
 " So you, too, are false to me, are you ? I should have 
 called you Judas, instead of Caesar," said the old man, as 
 he gave the animal a fierce kick, and ordered him back to 
 his station at the front door. The dog, for the first time 
 in his life, showed his teeth in a low growl at his master, 
 and then slowly turned away, his eyes still fixed upon 
 him, and with a defiant motion, laid himself down at the 
 feet of the young girl. Nicholas Grundle, with an oath, 
 caught up his gun, and, quickly bringing it to his shoulder, 
 leveled it at the dog ; but, before he could fire, the girl 
 threw herself in front of the animal, and begged for his 
 life, even as if she were begging for her own. He slowly 
 lowered the weapon, and, without a word beyond a curse 
 upon them both, he unlocked, with a large key he took 
 from his pocket, the cellar-door, and disappeared, with the 
 candle in one hand and the gun in the other, bolting the 
 door after him. 
 
 When he had reached the cellar, which was a damp, 
 empty place, without window or other outlet, except the 
 door above, he first satisfied himself, peering into every
 
 18 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 corner, that he was alone. Yet who and what had he tc 
 fear? What interest could this vault have to any one 
 save himself? Even Emily had never been in it, nor 
 wished to pry into its secret, since he took sole possession 
 of the place, six years ago, and forbade her ever even al 
 luding to it in his presence, or trying to find out in his 
 absence what might be its great attraction to him. She 
 had her suspicions of what he did there, and that was 
 all. She had never endeavored in any way to confirm 
 them ; for as she grew older, and thought more and 
 more for herself, they only aroused her pity, not her 
 curiosity. 
 
 It was a strange resort for an old man, this vault, not 
 over a dozen feet square, and scarcely a man's height. It 
 was filled with boxes and barrels of all sizes in every con 
 dition of decay. They lay about the floor in no apparent 
 order, but, covered with dust and cobwebs, they were 
 heaped in one place and scattered in another, as if they 
 were so much useless lumber; yet to their owner they 
 were as useful as the bars and bolts of a vault in any 
 bank. Some of the smaller ones were empty, while many 
 of the larger ones, especially those at the bottom of the 
 different piles, were filled with refuse straw and hay, old 
 tins, pieces of iron, horseshoes, nails, rags of all kinds, 
 and many other such things, which one might gather 
 who gleaned the earth of what men had cast away. 
 
 Placing his candle on the floor, and laying his gun, 
 half-cocked, beside it, he seated himself upon a box in 
 the midst of these strange treasures. He looked about 
 him, carefully noting by turn each box and barrel with a 
 cunning smile. Yes, there they all were ! Not one had 
 been moved an inch from its place. He rubbed his 
 withered hands with great glee, shaking his head with a 
 muttered chuckle of approbation, which he quickly re 
 pressed, lest even this might betray his secret to some 
 listening ear. Under the very best conditions of dark 
 ness, seclusion and silence, he never felt wholly secure. 
 But now his face took on a quiet look of exultation, as he 
 picked up the candle and moved on tiptoe to a corner of 
 the cellar, where one large empty box stood against the 
 wall. Upon this box his eyes were soon riveted with a
 
 A GLIMPSE INTO THE WAYSIDE HUT. 19 
 
 gaze as intense and questioning as if it had the power of 
 answering him. And it had ! 
 
 Coming closer with the light, he carefully examined the 
 exact position of this box, measuring with his finger its 
 distance from the wall at both ends at one end an inch, 
 at the other two, not a fraction more or less. There were 
 several straws resting upon the edge of this box. To any 
 one else they would have appeared to be there by chance, 
 but Nicholas Grundle kne\v just how every one of them 
 had been laid by his own hand, so that the slightest move 
 ment of the box would have caused each and every one 
 of them to fall. Yes, every straw, a silent and faithful 
 sentinel, was in its place. No need to look for footprints 
 around the box. Yet he did so, groping with his candle 
 not half so bright as his own keen eyes over every 
 inch of the vacant ground that surrounded it. There was 
 no sign of a stranger's tread. The earth was just as he 
 had left it the night before, ready to take any imprint, 
 and none had come. 
 
 What a sigh of relief came from his thin lips ! But 
 w r as he certain ? Perhaps! Glancing for just an instant 
 behind the box, his eyes kindled with an intense light of 
 joy. Yes, his secret was safe his treasure undisturbed ! 
 He still had it in his keeping. No eye had seen it no 
 hand had touched it ! With a smile that mellowed for a 
 moment his hard features, he went trembling back to his 
 seat. It always made him tremble, this assuring himself 
 that he had not lost his treasure; for, guard it as he did. 
 he never felt certain that, in some way how, he could not 
 even imagine it had not been discovered. And if it were 
 discovered? He clasped his hands in terror at the 
 thought. To have threatened his life would not have 
 made him so quake with fear. But it was there all 
 there. The box had not been moved ; the stone he 
 barely thought the word, so great a secret was it had 
 not been touched. Behind it, all was safe. Even now, 
 as his eyes turned upon the spot, glowing with the ava 
 rice that burned in his breast like a hot, consuming fire, 
 he could see his treasure ay, feel it, fondle it, kiss it, 
 hug it, worship it ; for w 7 hat god so filled his thoughts, by 
 day and night?
 
 20 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 Suddenly, as he heard the girl move overhead, a change 
 came over his face. The smile went out of it, disappear 
 ing under the frown of his knitting brows. A curse came 
 from his lips, and after a look of anger thrown upward, 
 where he knew she was sitting, he dropped his head upon 
 his hands and closed his eyes. He must think now what 
 it was best for him to do, and he could not think at all 
 with his eyes open for, cast them where he would, in his 
 attempt to think on other things, he could fix his gaze 
 nowhere save on that box. Yet, like a great staring eye 
 itself, it seemed to fill every range of his vision, even 
 when he turned his back upon it and tightly closed his 
 eyes, as he did now. How luminous was the stone behind 
 the box ! In this retreat he had never sat so long and 
 silently before. A strange figure he was, seated there, his 
 spare white locks falling down over his hands, in which his 
 head was clasped a small head, with a forehead that sloped 
 away from his temples, and gave no sign of intellectual 
 or moral strength. Over his small and shriveled form 
 the lio;ht of the candle fluttered with weird shadows, 
 
 
 
 peering here and there, with a brighter gleam, into the 
 holes and rents of his tattered garments, or making a 
 hiding-place of his ragged shoes, that, tied from heel to 
 toe with twine, scarcely covered the nakedness of his feet. 
 Whatever the plan might have been which he was think 
 ing over, it was now evident, from his agitation, that his 
 conclusion had not been reached without a great sacrifice 
 of his feelings and desires; for, as he at last rose from his 
 seat, he stood there, undecided as to what he should do, 
 turning, with a perplexed face, first toward the stairs, and 
 then resting his eyes, with that avaricious gleam, upon the 
 box. How could he, after so many years of successful con 
 cealment, let any eyes but his own see his treasures ? Could 
 he trust even her to keep his secret? Had she not already 
 deceived him? But if he should tell her all, and show 
 her what should some day be hers, would she not cling to 
 him, as she had ever done, and let her wild dreams go 
 with the young man who had conjured them up for her? 
 Yes, he was sure of it ! She was a sensible girl ; for had 
 he not taught her as no child was ever taught, moulding 
 every opinion, guiding every thought? Had she not
 
 A GLIMPSE INTO THE WAYSIDE HUT. 21 
 
 learned from his own lips, ever since she was old enough 
 to understand, how cold, and cruel, and selfish the world 
 was the world that bought and sold everything for gold? 
 
 With a confident shake of his head, he took up gun and 
 candle, and made his way up stairs, and as he entered the 
 room the face he turned upon her was as kind as she re 
 membered ever to have seen it. She came to him, and 
 again put her arms about his neck, and kissed him. "You 
 forgive me, father? You will let me love you still? You 
 will not say again that I am an ungrateful child ?" 
 
 He took her soft, round face in his two hands, and 
 looked down into her eyes, where the tears were still well 
 ing. It was a long, searching gaze that he poured into 
 those eyes, as if he there might still read something she 
 had riot told him ; but out of their blue depths there came 
 no sign of fear, or shame, or deceit. Only a yearning, sad 
 look was there, imploring his forgiveness. 
 
 " I was too hasty, my child," he spoke, at last, kissing 
 her cheek, into which the crimson tide was again flowing. 
 " You still love me, I see ; you are again my little Emily 
 my own loving and obedient child." 
 
 " I never loved you more than I do now, father. You 
 will never say again that I do not love you." 
 
 "No not if you will tell him, when next you see him, 
 that you do not care for him ; that you cannot listen to 
 him any more ; that you have no room in your heart for 
 him it all belongs to me. You will tell him this ?" 
 
 Back went the red tide from her face, and a pallor crept 
 over it, even as a chill ran through her heart at his words. 
 Her head drooped upon his breast, and he felt her form 
 tremble and quiver, as if in fear and pain; and it was 
 both. He knew it. 
 
 " Come, child, be yourself again. You need not answer 
 me now. I have something to tell you to-night some 
 thing to to show you," lowering his voice to a whisper ; 
 "and when I have told yon all, and you have seen all, 
 then you may tell me what you will say to this fellow who 
 would rob your poor old father of all he has in the world 
 his only child, his only comfort, his only joy !" 
 
 He suddenly ceased speaking, and intently listened to 
 some sound his ear had just caught. There now came
 
 22 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 footsteps on the garden-walk a man's step, quick yet 
 regular. The dog, who had already been moving un 
 easily in his place, with ears erect, now ran to the door, 
 and instantly began to show signs of friendly recognition, 
 which did not escape the old man. 
 
 "So he is coming! I thought perhaps he would not 
 dare it," said Nicholas Grundle, turning to the girl with a 
 grim smile ; " but " catching her arm with a grasp that 
 buried itself in the flesh " you will not see him to-night. 
 No, no ! we will not see him now ! Tell him to come to 
 morrow night. A\ r e will answer him then." 
 
 The girl made no reply. What could she say, with him 
 now looking at her so threateningly, his face darkening 
 with anger as the steps drew nearer ? There was a look 
 of entreaty on her face which her lips refused to express ; 
 but the grasp on her arm tightened, and he muttered, be 
 tween his set teeth : 
 
 " Tell him to go aM-ay ! Tell him to come for his answer 
 to-morrow night!" 
 
 He ran softly to the corner where his gun stood and 
 picked it up, his eyes fastened on her all the while ; while 
 she, with parted lips, and hands pressed upon her beating 
 heart, stood transfixed with fear. What might he not do? 
 There came a rap upon the door. The dog whined as he 
 ran his nose along the sill, and then, with a bound, was at 
 the girl's side, barking up at her and wagging his tail. 
 The old man, leaning on the barrel of his gun, fixed his 
 eyes upon his child. Raising his hand, with a warning 
 gesture, he whispered, in a voice full of passion : " Do as 
 I bid you ! Tell him to go ! Tell him to come to-morrow 
 night !" 
 
 Again there was a heavier rap. A hand was laid upon 
 the latch, rattling it violently, and something pressed 
 heavily against the locked and cross-barred door. And 
 now a gentle kick upon the lower panel told that he with 
 out was determined upon being heard and admitted. The 
 old man sprang lightly across the room, and, standing 
 beside the girl, -raised his weapon, leveling it at the door, 
 and said, in a voice so tremulous and hollow that it startled 
 her into instant action : " Unless you tell him to go, I 
 shall fire!"
 
 A GLIMPSE INTO THE WAYSIDE HUT. 23 
 
 She thrust aside the weapon with a smothered cry, and 
 ran to the door, calling to him outside : " Volney ! Volney ! 
 go away to-night, I pray you ! Come back to-morrow 
 night !" 
 
 " Emily," was the quick reply, in a voice as steady as 
 hers was broken, " open the door. I must see your father 
 to-night ! Come " after a pause " open the door, I say. 
 Why do you refuse to let me in? Are you jesting with 
 me? I am in no mood for that." 
 
 " Oh no, no !" she cried, wringing her hands with wild 
 dismay, as she glanced behind her and saw the gun poised 
 so steadily in the direction of the voice that had spoken 
 to her. " No, I am not jesting ; but here, on my bended 
 knees, I beg, I pray you to go away ! Please please go !" 
 
 After a short silence, he asked : " Emily, is it your wish 
 that I should now go away, and come back to-morrow 
 night ? Or is your father there, making you say these 
 words after him? If he is prompting you, I shall stay 
 here till you open the door." 
 
 " Go away to-night ! Do do go !" he heard her say, 
 " for my sake. If you " she hesitated, and then went 
 on, in a tone that thrilled him with its tender entreaty 
 " if you care for me, go away to-night !" 
 
 " For your sake, then, I go. Heaven knows how much 
 I love you !" and his strong, manly voice vibrated with the 
 powerful emotions her voice and near presence had aroused. 
 "Because you ask me to go away, and come again to 
 morrow, I will not refuse to go. Good-night to you, and 
 good-night to your father !" 
 
 And as her " Good-night !" came back to him in a sudden 
 tone of thankfulness, he leaped from the step and hurried 
 away, taking the direction of the village. He had no 
 fears for her. Her father, he knew, loved her too well to 
 do her harm. His fears, if any, were for himself. As he 
 pursued his way, he tried to find a satisfactory reason 
 for his having been thus refused admittance to Nicholas 
 Grundle's hut.
 
 24 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WHO WAS THE MAN? 
 
 AT this time, the sitting-room in Silas Gagger's farm 
 house was a very cheerful spot. It might be windy, 
 and cold, and dark outside, but here, at least, was comfort, 
 if heat and light could make it. A rousing wood-fire 
 snapped, and glowed, and roared in the ample chimney- 
 place, leaping now and then as high as the crane, and 
 wrapping the empty hooks in its yellow-white flames. 
 "What a glorious fire it was ! so warm, so bright, throwing 
 its genial heat far out into the room, until the dark-car 
 peted floor, the grimy walls, the narrow windows, the 
 straight-backed, staring chairs, and even the sombre old 
 clock, with its monotonous and melancholy tick, seemed 
 to have for once broken out into one broad smile of en 
 joyment. But while the fire made itself thus sociable with 
 all else in the room, it could not drive away the frown 
 from the face of the woman who sat in front of it. That 
 frown had been there an hour at least, and it acted very 
 much as if it had come to stay. For, strangest of all, 
 when the fire burned brightest, the frown deepened, form 
 ing sterner lines about the full lips, and sending darker 
 looks from the black eyes, that flashed back defiance to 
 the ruddy blaze. 
 
 A woman of middle age ; hair black and luxuriant, 
 yet not without a trace of gray ; skin fair as a girl's, and 
 glowing with a warm tint on rounded cheek, and arching 
 brow, and forehead smooth as satin. Her fine, intellectual 
 head rested upon a neck delicate in every curve, while the 
 slightly-drooping plumpness of the shoulders, perfect in 
 their outlines, gave full promise of a tall and graceful fig 
 ure, cast in beauty's rarest mould. Such was the woman 
 who sat alone in front of the farm-house fire. Her white, 
 tapering hands were crossed upon her lap, her beauty en 
 hanced, if beauty could be more than this, by the plain 
 ness of her surroundings. And the extreme simplicity 
 of her attire a black gown, without ornament of any 
 kind, save the white frills about her neck and wrists drew
 
 WHO WAS THE MAN? 25 
 
 attention all the more to the comeliness of her form, and 
 the striking brilliancy of her face, a radiance that even 
 her frowns could not conceal. 
 
 A door to the right, leading into the kitchen, now 
 opened. A woman entered, with her knitting in her hand. 
 This one already here took no notice of her beyond a 
 glance. She quietly seated herself on a stool beside the 
 fire, a little to one side, where the shadow of the broad 
 chimney-jamb fell upon her. She always kept in shadow 
 when this other one was by. So similar was she in age 
 and features to the one who now eyed her in the full light 
 that they might well have passed as sisters. But in form 
 they differed this one being small and lightsome, more 
 like the other's child. And there was a subdued expres 
 sion cf sadness about her face that the other's did not 
 bear. 
 
 Several moments passed in silence, the frowning face 
 still bent upon the fire, the sad face leaning over the 
 needles, as if, with the thread, she were weaving the story 
 of some fresh and heavy sorrow. Now and then a tear 
 dropped upon the fabric, but not unseen by the woman, 
 whose eyes had left the fire, and were now upon her com 
 panion. 
 
 " Are you crying, Aziel ?" she asked, in a voice that 
 was soft and clear, but without a trace of emotion in its 
 rich, even tones. " I do not see why you should cry. It 
 is not your husband who insults you every day not your 
 son who, bitterly upbraiding you and accusing you falsely, 
 has cast aside your love for that of a low and artful girl !" 
 
 The woman thus addressed half started from the shadow, 
 and looked up with a sudden expression of pain and be 
 seeching on her face. She was about to speak, and give full 
 vent to her feelings ; but something kept her back, and, 
 resuming her knitting with a sigh, she \vas again in the 
 shadow. " I know what, you were going to say," went on 
 the other, with just a trifle of contempt creeping into her 
 voice, but as instantly dismissing it, and coming back to 
 her mellow tones. "You were going to take his part in 
 stead of mine, as you have steadily done from the very 
 first day you held him, a baby, in your arms. If letting 
 him have his own way through all his childhood minis- 
 3
 
 26 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 tering to every boyish fancy, and siding with him in all 
 the tollies of his youth be love, you, Aziel, have loved 
 "him more than his mother." 
 
 The knitter by the fire bent farther over her work. 
 More rapidly the needles sped in and out of the knitting. 
 Her face paled and flushed, her heart beat fast and slow, 
 mid a tremor ran through the busy hands, dropping stitches 
 now, instead of making them. She moved deeper into the 
 shadow. Was it to avoid the heat of the fire ? or did she 
 feel safer the farther away from the eyes she felt were 
 upon her ? eyes that yet might detect her secret, even 
 though she drooped her head and sat in the shadow. 
 
 " Do not think I am so unkind as to blame you for 
 loving the boy as you have done," resumed the other ; 
 " but now, when he would cast his mother off', although 
 he knows he is her only comfort and joy, it is not right 
 that you should take his part. It is neither best for him 
 that you should do so, nor kind to me. And no one 
 knows it better than you do, Aziel, for you are lacking 
 in neither good judgment nor strong affection. Do not 
 cry. I am not intentionally hurting your feelings. You 
 have been too faithful to me and him, through all these 
 many years, for me to wish to do that. But I had a right 
 to expect that you would join me in opposition to this last 
 silly freak of his. Why, just for one moment think of 
 the absurdity of the project ! A youth for he is noth 
 ing else marrying a child for she is nothing more ; 
 and the two going alone to a great city to make their 
 fortune a city where they may starve and die before 
 their neighbors care to find out their names. Indeed, if 
 it were not my son who proposes to do so foolish an act, 
 I could laugh at its ridiculous folly ; and yet, Aziel, you 
 can see him intent on such a wild plan, and utter no pro 
 test. On the contrary, you tell him, as I heard you to 
 day, that you were sure he was on the road to fame 
 and fortune. Better that he had died of neglect, when 
 a babe in your arms, than that you should help him 
 to turn against his mother and encourage him to his 
 ruin." 
 
 The woman in the shadow, though greatly agitated by 
 these words, did not stop her knitting ; but before the
 
 WHO WAS THE MAN? 27 
 
 other's voice had ceased she was already replying, pouring 
 out her thoughts in a torrent of passionate eloquence, 
 burning on the cheek and flashing from the eye. 
 
 " You accuse me wrongfully," she said, for an instant, 
 and only for an instant, raising her eyes. " I have not 
 sided with the boy against you I love you both too much 
 for that. I cannot stop his loving the girl. Heaven 
 knows I wish he had never seen her ! I cannot prevent his 
 going away from us. If I could, he never should leave 
 your sight or mine. What will this house be without 
 him ? I dread to think of it ! Yet he will go. You 
 know how determined he is, and how hopeful and am 
 bitious ; and what is there about the life of this farm to 
 attract him ? He is far too good for it. I cannot blame 
 him for wanting to leave it. We cannot expect to always 
 have him with us. He is a man now, and another love 
 than that of nurse and mother has' taken possession of 
 him. If he must and will go from us, I say let him go 
 with our blessing and love. It's little else he can carry 
 with him from this place, except the contempt and hatred 
 of his stepfather. And, if he loves the girl, why should 
 he not marry her? She may be the very woman to save 
 his earnings, make his heart glad with her confidence, 
 and encourage him when all else in the world fails him. 
 She may be poor, but she is beautiful. You would say 
 so, if you had caught a glimpse of her as I did yesterday ; 
 and you could not look into her face and not see goodness 
 written all over it. Whatever the great city has in store 
 for them, we must, at all events, let them leave us with 
 our blessing. You would not refuse them that? When 
 he told me he should positively go in a few days, could I 
 say less to him than that I believed he would be success 
 ful, though all the time my heart was full of misgivings 
 and fears ? Would you have had me deny him the good 
 opinion of his nurse my best wishes and hopes ? Surely 
 it was little enough for me to give him." 
 
 Here her voice died out as suddenly as she had begun, 
 and, intent upon her work, she bent over it in silence, and 
 her tears fell in the shadow. The other made no answer, 
 but as she listened the frown had slowly died out of her 
 face. A calm look came upon it a calmness of control
 
 28 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 rather than that of resignation, though now her words 
 were such. 
 
 " You are right, Aziel," she said, leaning her head upon 
 her hand, and ga/ing into the fire with an abstracted air, 
 such as one has when memory is busy with the thoughts. 
 "You have spoken well for him you should have been 
 his mother, not I. You ought to have suffered and sac 
 rificed all I have for him these long, weary years years 
 that began even before his birth. You know something 
 of it, Aziel, but not all not all although you have been 
 my only companion, my only friend, and must have seen 
 and heard much. There was more I could not tell you, 
 for very shame, even in my most confidential moods. 
 And what is now the end of it all? Nothing but disap 
 pointment, and disappointment so bitter and grievous that 
 I could not bear it, had not all these years prepared me 
 even for this." 
 
 " I know it is hard, very hard, for you to have him go 
 away," rejoined the other, after a long pause, as if she 
 were weighing what it were best to say; "but is it not 
 better for him that he should go? You know how he 
 dislikes the farm and everything about it. You see the 
 hatred between him and his stepfather increasing every 
 day, until I fear sometimes it will come to blows, or some 
 thing worse, when he hears his mother spoken to as yon 
 were to-day. Besides, there is no opportunity in this vil 
 lage for him to make his talents available. What mill is 
 there here, where he could work over the machinery, and 
 get out his inventions and patents, as I am sure he will 
 when he has a chance? No, Slowville is no place for a 
 genius like his; but in a city he could make fame and for 
 tune, and I know you would be only too glad for him to 
 have both." 
 
 " So I would ; but not if to get them he must leave his 
 mother here. Do I not hate the place, and all its sur 
 roundings, as much as he does? Would I have ever come 
 here, had it not been for his sake? Was it for a home for 
 myself, or for him, that I married this man ? You know," 
 with a trifle of bitterness about the lips, "why I am here, 
 and why yon urged my coming here as this man's wife; 
 and now, when the boy is old enough to begin to pay me
 
 WHO WAS THE MAN? 29 
 
 back in love and devotion for my trials and sacrifices, what 
 does he do? Hark ! was that a footstep outside?" Then, 
 glancing at the clock : " It cannot be either of them it is 
 only a little past nine, and the Lyceum does not close till 
 ten." 
 
 They listened intently, turning toward the door. Yes, 
 there were footsteps outside soft ones not on the grav 
 eled walk, but stealing along on the deadening sod under 
 the windows. They waited to hear a knock upon the door, 
 but no knock came, and now the footsteps had ceased, and 
 whoever it was he seemed to have passed on. The ques 
 tioning glances of the women met. In the face of the one 
 in the chair was no fear, but on the face of the other, by 
 the chimney, there came a blanched look a look it always 
 wore* whenever a stranger came to the house. The woman 
 in the chair arose, and, taking the candle in her hand, went 
 to the door. 
 
 " Do not open the door," whispered Aziel, her fears 
 finding utterance in fresh alarm at the movement of her 
 companion. " Remember, we are alone." 
 
 " And for that very reason it is better that, whoever this 
 tramp may be, he should see we are not afraid of him. 
 If you are afraid, go lock yourself in your room ; I shall 
 see who it is." 
 
 With these words she opened the door, and threw it 
 wide, holding the candle above her head. Its faint beams 
 penetrated the darkness for an instant, and then, revealing 
 nothing, went out in a gust of wind. But still resolved 
 upon her search, the woman stepped out upon the door- 
 stone, and peered about her. At first she saw nothing, but 
 as her eyes began to accommodate themselves to the gloom, 
 she thought she detected the form of a man standing beside 
 a lilac bush, close to the farther window. 
 
 " Who is there?" she asked, in a voice as dauntless as it 
 was commanding. " You need not try to hide yourself. 
 I see you plainly. What do you want ?" 
 
 At these words the man quickly emerged from his con 
 cealment and came forward. 
 
 " I wish to see Mrs. Silas Gagger," he said, with a 
 voice that was feigned, " and, if I mistake not, this is the 
 lady." 
 
 3*
 
 30 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 " Who are you ?" she asked, her voice hollow, as she 
 shrank back from him into the doorway. 
 
 And then, as if she had lost power of further motion, 
 she stood looking at him, with parted lips, and eyes that 
 glared with terror as his face drew nearer. He stepped 
 upon the sill and stood in front of her. The light of the 
 fire fell upon his face and illumined his features. His 
 wicked eyes glowed up at her with a mocking smile. That 
 look, that smile! they belonged but to one man, Avere he 
 living or dead. She uttered a cry of recognition and dismay, 
 and would have fallen had he not caught her. But as she 
 felt his arms about her, she quickly came back to herself. 
 She struggled out of his grasp, flung aside his arms, and 
 confronted him as of old, with a look of fierce defiance. 
 
 " Mrs. Silas Gagger has not changed, I see, since she 
 was Mrs. Seth Slade. Nor have I," he said, with a laugh, 
 pulling off his beard, and letting a gleam of triumph play 
 over his shaven cheeks, a moustache and goatee still con 
 cealing his taunting mouth and firm, projecting chin. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 NEVER SO UNWELCOME. 
 
 WHEN she first heard the man's voice, the woman by 
 the fireplace had been so overcome for she instant 
 ly recognized it that she was paralyzed with terror. She 
 could not move, though she strove to rise and make her 
 escape. Like a statue she sat there, her eyes fixed with a 
 wide stare upon the door, her work poised in her motion- 
 It'-s hands. But when the man entered the room and 
 spoke again, she was startled into action. Dropping her 
 work, she pressed her hands upon her mouth, lest it might 
 speak and betray her, and shrank deeper into the shadow, 
 forcing herself down into the corner behind the jamb. 
 Crouched there like some hunted creature, she still kept 
 her eyes upon the figure at the door. How loudly her 
 heart beat now ! It seemed as if it would bound from 
 her bosom. And yet, where was all the blood going ?
 
 NEVER SO UNWELCOME. 31 
 
 Certainly not into her veins, for she was shivering with 
 cold in every limb, until she felt herself growing rigid 
 as ice. 
 
 In the mean time, the man and woman near the door 
 had been silently eying each other, she with that fearless 
 and defiant look, he with the hard and cruel smile, as his 
 eyes, slowly surveying her from head to foot, came to a 
 rest again upon her face. 
 
 " Well," he said, at length, breaking out into an indif 
 ferent laugh, "this is not a warm welcome, to say the 
 least. But men must not expect to come back from their 
 graves and find their wives as they left them. So this is 
 Mrs. Silas Gagger? Mrs. Gagger" approaching her 
 and extending his hand " allow me to congratulate you. 
 I wiek you happiness." 
 
 She hesitated a moment. Should she try to conciliate 
 him ? No ; he was not the man for that. She retreated 
 from him a pace, then proudly drawing her form to its 
 fullest height, she looked upon him, her eyes glowing with 
 a stronger light, the thin, quivering nostrils dilating, and 
 the parted lips curling with contempt as they slightly 
 disclosed the white tracery of her teeth. 
 
 "So," with a nonchalant toss of his hand, "you will 
 not shake hands with me? Well, perhaps you will speak 
 to me. After a seven years' absence you ought at least to 
 inquire after my health. Common politeness requires that 
 much. Of course I do not expect you to congratulate me 
 on my escape from shipwreck that would be asking too 
 much of your widowed love. And just now I see you 
 are wishing me with all your heart at the bottom of 
 the Pacific." 
 
 " Rather than you should be here, I would willingly 
 myself lie at the bottom of the ocean." She spoke at last, 
 but not in a broken or agitated voice. 
 
 There was a firmness in her tone that accorded well with 
 her determined bearing toward him. 
 
 " Oh, I comprehend you now. I see you are afraid of 
 my intentions/' with a tantalizing smile. " You think 
 that I have come back to take you from the arms of your 
 second love. I don't look much like a second Enoch 
 Arden, do I? Now suppose, for the sake of argument
 
 32 AS IT MAY HAPPEX. 
 
 and you were always good at argument, Mrs. Gagger, 
 though slightly dogmatic, if I remember rightly suppose 
 that I have come hack to claim my dear wife of former 
 davs, what have you to say against such a loving action 
 on my part '.' ( 'ertainly it would be an evidence of my 
 undying alleetion." 
 
 " Thank Heaven I am not, in that respect at least, in 
 the power of your affection or your hate !" she replied, 
 looking steadily at him, an air of triumph in voice and 
 feature. " You can come here and break up my home, 
 and thus add to my many obligations to you; but, strive 
 with all your wicked and malicious heart, you cannot 
 make me your wife. That much of evil is not in your 
 power." 
 
 "Well, perhaps not; but for the present we will not 
 argue the question. Come, let us sit down and talk over 
 old times. That fireplace looks very inviting. It needs 
 a little more wood now. If you sit in front of it a while, 
 it may thaw you out." 
 
 So saying, he picked the candle up from the floor, where 
 it had fallen, and, replacing it in the stick, struck a light. 
 Then he threw aside his hat and light overcoat with the 
 eareles- case of years ago, and, taking up a chair, drew it 
 over to the fireplace, beckoning her to follow 7 . She did 
 not do so, but stood where she was, resolved not to yield 
 in the slightest to him until she had found out the rea-on 
 for his coming ; then she would decide how further to treat 
 him. .He had placed the chair beside the table where he 
 was standing, and was putting the candle on the mantel 
 shelf, when his eyes fell upon the figure crouching in its 
 hiding-place near his feet. 
 
 " Hello !" he exclaimed, bending over the woman, whose 
 white lace was now turned up to him in an agony of 
 dread. "Bless my soul! this is Aziel Loyd ! Why, 
 A/icl, what makes you look so frightened? You should 
 take lessons from your mistress. Upon my word I am 
 delighted to see you !" 
 
 And, despite her struggles to evade him, he seized her 
 hands ; then, drawing her from her hiding-place, he caught 
 her in his arms and raised her to her feet evidently pleased 
 at her resistance, for he laughed holding her out at arm's
 
 NEVER SO UNWELCOME. 33 
 
 length. She broke away from him with a fierce cry, cover 
 ing her face with her hands ; then, standing for an instant 
 irresolute whether to flee the house or remain, .she ran across 
 the room, and sought refuge beside her mistress, where she 
 gave way to a flood of nervous tears. 
 
 " Well !" he exclaimed, raising his hands with a gesture 
 of mock surprise, " my welcome gets worse instead of 
 better. The wife of my bosom despises me, and the nurse 
 of my only son refuses me even so little as a look of 
 greeting !" 
 
 He turned his back upon them, and began to pile wood 
 upon the fire, until the chimney roared with the mighty 
 flame, and the light filled the room with the brightness of 
 day. Then, leisurely seating himself where he had a full 
 view -of his companions, he lay back in his chair, and 
 laughed heartily. 
 
 " I declare," he went on, between his bursts of hilarity, 
 " you two women haven't changed a bit since I saw you 
 last. Both plump and saucy. You have evidently been 
 feeding on the fat of the land during my absence. Yes, 
 these are comfortable quarters, I must admit," glancing 
 around the room with an air of appreciation. " I suppose 
 you have a spare room for me to-night? Ah, ladies, still 
 inhospitable? no invitation to remain?" he resumed, after 
 he had waited for a reply and received none. " Then I 
 must wait until the gentlemen return. They may be more 
 civil when they find out who I am. My wife's husband 
 and my dear son will be glad to see me, I am sure." 
 
 lie wheeled himself about in his chair, and took a news 
 paper from the table, which he now pretended to be reading 
 very intently. But his eyes, hidden beneath the ambuscade 
 of his drawn brows, were askance upon his companions, 
 while his ears were strained to catch the slightest whisper 
 that might pass between them. 
 
 Several moments went by in dead silence, save the stifled 
 sobs that came from Aziel. She seemed to have lost as 
 much control of herself as the other still possessed. And 
 this continued exhibition of alarm and grief, which her mis 
 tress had been unable to subdue by meaning look or author 
 itative gesture, now called for more summary treatment. 
 
 " Go to your room," said her companion, in a voice of 
 
 c
 
 34 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 mild command, leading her to the door. "There is no 
 reason why you should show such fear. His return cannot 
 affect you. Besides, it is better that we should be alone." 
 She opened the door, and pushed her gently forward into 
 the entry. 
 
 Aziel found her tongue now. She caught the other's 
 hand in a quick, nervous pressure, and said, in a voice so 
 anxious she could scarcely repress it to a whisper : " You 
 will not be rasli ? You will remember the boy? You 
 will do anything for his sake?'' 
 
 A flash of impatient indignation came across the face of 
 the mistress. Could this nurse never think of any one but 
 the boy? Was he the only one in all this trouble whose 
 welfare inu-t be consulted ? Was his mother to endure 
 every misery and degradation that he might be free from 
 annoyance free to go away and leave her to bear her 
 burdens alone ? 
 
 Without replying, she closed the door upon the plead 
 ing, scared face, and came back into the room, her coun 
 tenance again singularly calm despite the contending emo 
 tions in her breast. And now, with a firm step, she slowlv 
 crossed the floor and stood beside the reader, a little in 
 advance of him, where, should he raise his eyes, they could 
 look full into her face. He kept on reading as if she were 
 a thousand miles away and he the sole and comfortable 
 occupant of the apartment. 
 
 "Seth Slade" she spoke his name with the slightest 
 tremor " why have you come here ? What do you in 
 tend to do?"' 
 
 He slowly glanced up at her, and returned her steady 
 ga/e with a derisive smile; then, with a light laugh, he 
 tossed the paper aside, and motioned her to a seat opposite 
 him, by the table. 
 
 " Com" At down, Annie Mrs. Gagger, I mean !" with a 
 mocking apologetic wave of his hand. u Fact is, I cannot 
 forget our old relation to each other. So you have at last 
 taken enough interest in your dear departed to ask him his 
 intentions. Why have I come here ? and what do I intend 
 to do ? Two short questions, but very comprehensive. 
 But I remember you always were both precise and com 
 prehensive in your way of speaking !''
 
 NEVER SO UNWELCOME. 35 
 
 She had seated herself, and, with an elbow leaning care 
 lessly upon the table, she had assumed an attitude of in 
 different attention, although her eyes never for an instant 
 left his face, quietly yet intently scanning every feature as 
 he spoke. His words had too often deceived her. She 
 must in his face now, if possible, read the secret of his 
 coming here to-night. 
 
 " You are trying to study me out, I see," he said, strok 
 ing his moustache with his long white hand, upon the fore 
 finger of which shone the ring which Dibbs, of the Green 
 Tree, had so much admired the coiled serpent with ruby 
 eyes. "Now," with a malicious twinkle, "you would be 
 delighted to hear me say, ' My dear wife of a short w r hile 
 ago, I have merely called here to-night to assure myself 
 that y6*n are at last happy; that in the love of your second 
 husband you find that joy of affection, that wealth of love, 
 that peace of mind, which were denied you in your first 
 M-edded life; and, having seen you thus happy, I am going 
 away for ever, and you will never see or hear of me again, 
 any more than if I were really stretched at full length on 
 the bottom of the Pacific.' That is what you would like 
 to hear me say, isn't it?'' 
 
 " You did not come here to say anything like that," she 
 rejoined, a trifle of contempt in her voice. " Your errand 
 is far different, and whatever it is, you had better state it 
 without further delay," glancing at the clock, "unless you 
 want other witnesses of our meeting. And I am sure you 
 do not, or you would not have come here so secretly, and 
 at this hour." 
 
 " Sharp as ever," he said, in a bantering tone, " and 
 correct, as usual. Yes, we had better settle our business 
 by ourselves ; and, as long as you do not object to a little 
 secrecy in the matter, it is better for us both. So we will 
 proceed to business. You have married a rich man, I 
 hear?" 
 
 " Well, what of that ? I have seen very little of his 
 money. And if you have come here for money, you will 
 certainly go away without it," was her ready and resolute 
 answer. 
 
 " Indeed !" elevating his eyebrows, and staring at her 
 in feigned disappointment. "Then there is not much
 
 36 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 chance for me to turn an honest penny. You have no 
 money to purchase my silence, and he will probably spare 
 none to buy my title to you as my wife." 
 
 " That title is no longer good. The law destroyed it 
 years ago. You can never recover it ;" and, more vehe 
 mently : " Thank Heaven that this once, at least, the law is 
 on the side of the weaker party. I was your wife and 
 slave seven years ago, but I am neither now " 
 
 " Are you quite sure of that ?" he interrupted, as blandly 
 as if he were preserving the amenities of polite conversa 
 tion, and did not wish to flatly contradict her. " The law, 
 as I have read it, states the present case very positively in 
 my favor. Ah, here it is!" taking from his pocket-book 
 a sheet of letter paper, which he slowly opened, the cun 
 ning of his smile deepening. "Shall I read you this 
 paragraph, which I recently copied verbatim from the laws 
 of Pennsylvania on the subject of divorce?" 
 
 "It makes no difference to me what you read. I know 
 my present position is perfectly lawful. You were absent 
 t\vo years; and, besides, you were reported drowned by 
 shipwreck. These two circumstances gave me the legal 
 right to marry again." 
 
 " Certainly you are correct, my dear madam, as far as 
 yon have stated the general law; but every law has its 
 miscellaneous provisions, as the lawyers call them, which 
 to my mind are, like the postscript to a lady's letter, the 
 most important part of the whole document. Listen a 
 moment, and you will agree with me, I think." 
 
 Then, taking the candle, he held it close to the paper, 
 and read, in an unmoved and deliberate voice, the follow 
 ing: 
 
 " ' If any husband or wife, upon any false rumor, in appearance well 
 founded, of the death of the other (when such other has been absent 
 for the space of two whole years), hath married, or shall marry again, 
 he or she shall not be liable to the pains of adultery.' 
 
 "That, I take it," lowering the paper and looking at 
 her intently, " is your view of the case. Before you mar 
 ried again, there had been a well-founded rumor of my 
 death, and I had also been absent for the space of two 
 years. Am I right? Did you marry under those 
 conditions ?"
 
 NEVER SO UNWELCOME. 37 
 
 " I did," she stoutly rejoined. " I read your name 
 among the lost in a paper, which was sent me from Lon 
 don, giving an account of the shipwreck. And as to your 
 absence, you know it is fully seven years this very month 
 since I last saw you." 
 
 " I hope the narrative of the shipwreck was very inter 
 esting to you. It must have been quite a pleasure to road 
 my name among the lost. I thought it would be, when I 
 got a friend to mail you the paper." This he said with his 
 face struggling between a frown and a leer. 
 
 "You, then, concocted the lie, and sent me the paper 
 containing it !" She spoke slowly, turning away from 
 his tantalizing gaze. " What a fool I was, not to have 
 suspected it !" 
 
 " Certainly, my dear ; and I never should have sent you 
 such sad news, had I any idea you would marry again and 
 bring yourself into trouble in the eyes of the law. How 
 ever, we cannot change the facts, nor the law either. Now 
 for my side of the case in hand ; and what it is best to do, 
 I will leave you to decide." 
 
 He went on reading, with a stronger stress of em 
 phasis : 
 
 " ' But it shall be in the election of the party remaining unmarried, 
 at his or her return, to insist to have his or her former wife or husband 
 restored, or to have his or her own marriage dissolved and the other 
 party to remain with the second husband or wife ; and in any suit or 
 action, instituted for this purpose within six months after such return, 
 the Court may and shall sentence and decree accordingly.' 
 
 " There, my dear madam," replacing the paper in his 
 pocket, and setting the candle on the mantel and turning 
 to her ; " you have heard the law, which, as I have read 
 it, you can verify at any lawyer's office. By the law you 
 see that, if I choose, I can have my former wife restored 
 to me. So it depends solely on my choice and will 
 whether Mrs. Gagger remains as she is, or again be 
 comes Mrs. Seth Slade." 
 
 An ashen pallor was spreading over lip, and brow, and 
 cheek ; a dead look was creeping into her eyes, and she 
 threw out her hands with a groping gesture. He stopped 
 suddenly. He sprang toward her, just in time to catch 
 her head as it fell forward heavily upon the table. He 
 
 4
 
 38 AS IT 31 AY IIATPEX. 
 
 turned her face upward and spoke to her, his tones, for 
 the moment, in softened command. But no reply came 
 from the livid parted lips. He leaned closer to her face, 
 and her lo\v, soft breath touched his cheek. Then he 
 knew she had only swooned away. 
 
 At this moment he heard a door open. He looked up, 
 and A/iel stood on the threshold, one hand to her fright 
 ened face, the other clasped upon her heart, which, like 
 the one in the chair, seemed to have stopped its beating. 
 
 " Come here," he said, beckoning to her. " I must be 
 going now. She has only fainted. When she comes to, 
 tell her I will be back a week from to-night, if I can do 
 so with secrecy ; and I will look out for that." 
 
 So saying, he replaced his beard, caught up his coat 
 and hat, and disappeared through the outer door. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TOUCHING A TENDER SPOT. 
 
 SILAS G AGGER was the complete personification of 
 egotism, self-conceit and vanity. The perfections of 
 his character were the constant theme of his contempla 
 tion ; his opinions on every subject were alone correct ; 
 and no one could pay him sufficient attention, or his opin 
 ions too much respect. Yet, notwithstanding all these 
 qualities, of which he prided himself the sole possessor, 
 the people of Slowville neither respected him nor agreed 
 in the slightest with his opinions. They looked upon him 
 as a proud, selfish, irritable and disagreeable old fellow. 
 His opinions they always greeted with ready opposition, 
 and more frequently with laughs of derision, as he en- 
 di-avored to give them greater weight and enforce their 
 acceptance by violence of language and manner. Such 
 was the man who, with his hat on his head, had risen, that 
 evening, in his seat in the Lyceum, and, despite the loud 
 calls to order, was insisting on being allowed to take part 
 in the discussion.
 
 TOUCHING A TENDER SPOT. 39 
 
 " The gentleman is not in order," said the President. 
 " Not being a member, he is not entitled to the floor with 
 out unanimous consent. He will please be seated." 
 
 Sijas Gugger did not take his seat. On the contrary, 
 he shook his fist defiantly at the President, and then turned 
 glaringly upon the audience, whose boisterousness in 
 creased every moment. " These are the days of free 
 speech!" he cried. "No one, be he man, devil, or 
 angel, shall stop my voice ! This is the Town Hall ; I 
 pay my taxes, ancl have right to use it Beyond 
 tliis his words became inaudible, amid the riot of sound 
 that swept over the room. 
 
 Silas Gagger's eyes flashed fire, the red heat of indigna 
 tion crimsoned his cheeks, and brows, and temples, making 
 his long white beard seven-fold whiter by contrast. He 
 shook his clenched fists at those around him, and with ges 
 ticulations more violent, yelled defiance at the top of his 
 voice. The storm of opposition to him only increased ; the 
 more he roared, and stamped, and swore and he was doing 
 all three now the louder became the uproar, until the very 
 floor and walls seemed to be vibrating with the commotion. 
 But just now, when those in his immediate vicinity began 
 to look out for some violence at his hands, and were pre 
 paring to eject him on the first show of it, he suddenly 
 ceased. Then, without so much as a parting glance at the 
 assembly, he walked leisurely out of the room. "Just 
 like him !" exclaimed several. " Always doing the oppo 
 site of what you expect." 
 
 Descending the stairs with a smile of contempt what 
 a contempt "he always had for those who were afraid to hear 
 the truth, the truth as he alone could reveal it to them ! 
 he sought out his vehicle and started homeward. He 
 was master there, and this thought gave him great satis 
 faction in the midst of his anger at the way in which he had 
 been served by the members of the Lyceum. For while 
 to men generally there comes the consoling thought, in the 
 midst of their worldly rebuffs and disappointments, that 
 at home there are those who love and prize them, to this 
 man there was a much sweeter delight in feeling that at 
 his home were those who dared not question his opinions 
 or oppose his will. Why should they? What was
 
 40 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 woman's judgment compared with a man's knowledge? 
 her disconnected and fanciful ideas, contrasted with his 
 clear and comprehensive opinions which stood the test of 
 logic and experience as well ? AVhen opposite the Qreen 
 Tree, the thought suddenly came to him that a whiskey- 
 toddy would settle his nerves and tone down his feelings. 
 Other men drink for the excitement it produces. His na 
 ture was in noble contrast to the common herd; he drank 
 for the calmness it brought to him. Reining in his horse 
 so suddenly that he almost pitched himself over the dasher, 
 he gave the beast a sharp cut for her promptness, and then 
 alighted. Hitching the animal with a rope he took from 
 beneath the seat he despised straps he turned and entered 
 the tavern. 
 
 Dibbs was still alone, curled up in his chair behind the 
 bar, and as usual indulging in one of his numerous cat 
 naps, which the entrance of the man did not disturb. 
 Certainly, if the innocence of Dibbs' heart could be judged 
 by the soundness of his sleep, he was as innocent as a 
 babe. 
 
 " Wake uj) ! wake up there, you lazy lubber !" shouted 
 Gagger, walking over to the bar and giving it a ringing 
 blow in very close proximity to where Dibbs' head was 
 resting. 
 
 Dibbs had heard the first word the man spoke, but he 
 was so used to being awakened by the loud calls of cus 
 tomers that he was not startled by the sound into any 
 sudden movement. In fact, though wide awake, he did 
 not move at all, neither did he open his eyes; for in this 
 case, having recognized the voice, he instantly determined 
 to make it no easy task for this one to wake him. He 
 hated the man so much that even this small way of 
 annoying him was a great pleasure to Dibbs, who would 
 rather play a joke than eat his dinner. But when Silas 
 Gagger's hand came down with such a rousing smack so 
 near his ears, Dibbs changed his tactics. He flung out his 
 arm quickly, as he sprang with a frightened air to his feet; 
 and strange to say the arm struck the large earthen pitcher 
 on the bar such a well-directed blow that it was overturned, 
 and its ice-cold contents deluged the old man from his waist 
 to his feet, saturating his clothes to the skin, while the
 
 TOUCHING A TENDER SPOT. 41 
 
 pitcher itself broke into fragments upon his most tender 
 bunion. 
 
 " Fool !" roared Gagger, dancing around on one foot, 
 and shivering with this bath of ice- water. " See what 
 you have done ! I have a good mind to thrash you !" 
 shaking a formidable-looking horse-whip at him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ! Indeed, Mr. Gagger, you must 
 excuse me," said Dibbs, catching up a towel and proceed 
 ing to rub down the old man very much as if he had 
 been a horse. " It was an accident, I assure you. You 
 scared the wits out of me, striking the counter that way, 
 so close to my ears. But just be quiet a minute ; you will 
 soon be dry." Dibbs went on rubbing him down, lay 
 ing on his towel witli such innocent vigor that the old 
 man* cried out, giving him a push that sent his head 
 with a loud bump against the bar, " Get out, you born 
 idiot ! Don't you see you are rubbing the skin off my 
 legs ?" 
 
 Dibbs rose slowly to his feet, muttering something 
 about doing the best he could, and with an apparently 
 crestfallen air, went behind the bar. Here he stood, with 
 a capitally drawn face, silently watching his companion, 
 who had placed himself in front of the stove to complete 
 the drying and stop his shivering. But while Dibbs 
 stood there looking so demure, his brain was very busy 
 plotting further mischief, for which the present opportu 
 nity was so favorable. He knew Silas Gagger was very 
 jealous of his wife, and Dibbs was now chuckling over 
 the rare chance to fun that jealousy into a violent flame 
 by relating, in as suspicious a way as possible, the conver 
 sation which had taken place that evening between him 
 self and the mysterious stranger. Not that Dibbs had 
 the slightest idea the stranger was in any way related to 
 or concerned with any of the inmates of the Gagger farm 
 house. 
 
 He only saw in the whole affair a rare opportunity to 
 make this man here red-hot with jealousy, as he mentally 
 expressed the result. And now he was ready to distill 
 the poison, and he did it in this way : 
 
 " Mr. Gagger," he said, " you had better let me mix 
 you a hot drink, as I did for a strange gentleman about 
 
 4*
 
 42 AS IT MAY JLU'J'J-X. 
 
 an hour ago. If it warms you up as it did him, you \vill 
 be very soon dry inside and out." 
 
 "You tend to your business, and I will tend to mine," 
 was the gruff answer, the old man holding his wet clothes 
 closer to the stove, until a little cloud of steam rose from 
 them, and the intense heat began to blister his shivering 
 shanks. "A pretty mess you have made of it!" he 
 roared, jumping about and holding out his hot trowsers 
 as far as they would stretch. " First you froze me, 
 now you want to parboil me. Dibbs," cursing him 
 roundly, "you arc a born fool!" 
 
 " Well, 1 am not to blame for that," said Dibbs, with 
 an apologetic shrug of his shoulders. "There are more 
 fools born than wise men, so the chances were in my 
 favor, yet in wise men we often find more folly than wis 
 dom. But grant that I am a fool, I was wise enough 
 to form an opinion of the mysterious fellow who was 
 here a little while ago. By the way," went on Dibbs, 
 approaching him very confidentially, and looking suspi 
 ciously about the room, while he whispered ominously in 
 the old man's ear, "you didn't see anything of him over 
 at the Lyceum, did you a tall man, with a black beard, 
 and a long coat, and a felt hat, and eyes small like yours, 
 only they were black ?" 
 
 "Xo, "I didn't; but why do you ask? What's the 
 man to me?" Then, as he caught the peculiar expression 
 of the other's face, he asked, with a sudden show of inter 
 est : "What are you concealing, boy? "Who was the 
 man? Do I know him?" 
 
 " Xo," replied Dibbs, his mysterious manner deepening, 
 "you don't know him, but he appeared to know you, and 
 I guess," with provoking emphasis, and laying his fore 
 finger significantly on the side of his nose, while his left 
 eye disappeared in a knowing wink, "he knows more 
 about the ladies up at your house " 
 
 The old man sprang at him with an oath, caught him 
 by the collar with a savage grip, and, raising his whip, 
 brought it with a vigorous blow down upon Dibbs' 
 shoulders. 
 
 "How dare you, you scoundrel, talk and look that way 
 about my wife!" thundered Gagger, shaking him and
 
 TOUCHING A TENDER SPOT. 43 
 
 rapidly plying the whip, while Dibbs vainly endeavor 
 ed to dodge the blows and wriggle out of his iron grasp. 
 
 At last he was successful, and he jumped for refuge 
 behind the bar, where he caught up a bottle and stood 
 on the defensive. 
 
 " I have a mind to thrash you again," said Gagger, 
 puffing with his recent exertions, and shaking the whip 
 at him. 
 
 " Oh yes," replied Dibbs, in a doleful voice, as he put 
 the bottle down and began to rub his shoulders with every 
 evidence of great pain, "this is always the thanks a fellow 
 gets for trying to do a fellow-man a good turn. Take me 
 for a noodle if I don't keep my own secrets after this. 
 Mysterious fellows, thick as blackberries, may come around 
 SlowVille, and I will hold my tongue, no matter if I do 
 find out there is something wrong about them." 
 
 The old man, his passion having somewhat subsided, 
 had been striding up and down the room during this 
 soliloquy of Dibbs. He was not listening to a word of 
 it, but was now debating with himself whether, perhaps, 
 there was not some mystery here it was worth his while 
 to fathom. A strange man in Slowville, who knew, or 
 pretended to know, all about him and his family ! Who 
 could he be ? He had no living relatives except a nephew, 
 who was well known in Slowville. His wife had none 
 beyond her son, nor had Aziel Loyd, their servant at 
 least, not to his knowledge. These and kindred thoughts, 
 which coursed rapidly through his brain, roused Silas Gag- 
 ger's curiosity, which as quickly changed into suspicion, 
 and then leaped into jealousy with this sudden thought 
 suppose this man were some old lover of his wife ! 
 
 He broke off in this train of thought, suddenly turned 
 to Dibbs, and asked : " Did this man say where he was 
 going when he left you?" 
 
 " Yes ; but he went to neither place. You did not see 
 him at the Lyceum, and Jack, the clerk at Grimes', was 
 in here just before you came, and said he had not been at 
 the store. And he told me he was going to both places." 
 
 " Where do you suppose he did go?" asked the old man, 
 after a long pause, during which Dibbs was executing a 
 lively whistle.
 
 44 AS IT MAY HAPPEN: 
 
 " That's for you to find out, not I," rejoined Dibbs, re 
 suming his tune, and then dryly remarking: "I have my 
 suspicions and you have your whip, and the one may be as 
 bad as the other. But if you keep your eyes open on the 
 way home, you may see him." 
 
 " Dibbs !" 
 
 The old man turned on him threateningly, but as quickly 
 recovered himself, as he saw the innocent look on the young 
 man's face. Then, without another word, he buttoned up 
 his coat, grasped his whip firmly in his hand, and mutter 
 ing vengeance, hurried out of the house. 
 
 A second later, Dibbs laughed with glee as he heard the 
 dilapidated old chaise dash madly down the street. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. 
 
 TY7HETHER it were the clearer atmosphere which 
 V V had come with the departure of the man, or the loud 
 calls and vigorous shaking of Aziel, or the sound of wheels 
 clattering up the hill, that startled the life-currents into 
 sudden activity, the woman came back to consciousness 
 very fast. She raised her head, flung out her hands with 
 a quick gesture, as if warding off something, opened her 
 eyes as widely as if she had just come out of a hideous 
 nightmare, and then as rapidly turned her questioning and 
 still white face on her companion. 
 
 "Has he gone?" she asked, casting a shivering, scared 
 look about the room; then, as she caught the sound of 
 carriage-wheels, which were almost at the door, she ex 
 claimed, in a hoarse whisper, a? she sank back in her chair, 
 " Hark ! there comes the other. What if they have met? 
 AVlmt shall we do?" 
 
 The vehicle rattled past the door, and went on toward 
 the barn. There was still time left to adopt some plan 
 that would deceive the man so soon to appear, if deceived 
 he could be. Aziel was the first to devise that plan, and 
 she put it into instant execution. She, who, but a few mo-
 
 THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. 45 
 
 ments ago, had been cowering with abject fear in the pres 
 ence of Seth Slade, was now strangely confident and self- 
 possessed. 
 
 " Go to your room ; keep a stout heart, and leave me to 
 manage him," she said, with the air of one fully able to 
 cope with the situation. " I will make a good excuse for 
 your absence, and find out all he knows." 
 
 " But suppose he saw him leaving the house ? He has 
 only been gone a few moments." 
 
 " Seth Slade is not the man to let any one that he chooses 
 to hide from see him," replied Aziel, with a reassuring 
 shake of her head. " And even if he was seen, has not 
 my brother a right to come and see me ? my brother who 
 has just returned from California?" 
 
 " Y'bur brother? I do not understand," said the other, 
 with a puzzled look, as if the words just spoken might 
 have been in earnest or jest, she knew not which. 
 
 "Of course you do not understand just now, you poor 
 dear !" putting her arm around her, and helping her to 
 her feet. " But come ! go to your room, and calm your 
 self. You will be strong again in a little while. In the 
 mean time, I will take good care that, if he has seen the 
 man, he will trouble you with no questions you cannot 
 answer. I will take care that you know all that has passed 
 between us before he comes to bed. But remember that 
 the man who came here to-night, if he has been seen leav 
 ing this house, is my brother. There, now ! don't stop 
 to argue with me !" gently urging her toward the door. 
 " There is little time left me to get ready for him." 
 
 The woman, with a grateful glance, pressed the other's 
 hand, and went slowly up the stairs, trembling with the 
 faint hope that what had happened this night might yet 
 be concealed. And if concealed to-night, why not for ever 
 hidden? It was not impossible. There must be some 
 way in which it could be done. 
 
 Her heart beat a trifle more freely at this thought. And 
 as it fast took on a more defined form of certainty, she felt 
 herself growing stronger in body, less fearful in heart. She 
 stopped on the landing, her step a firm one now. She would 
 listen to what might transpire below. She was no longer 
 afraid. She dared to hear all. Looking down, she saw,
 
 46 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 by the long, dim streak of light, that the door was ajar, 
 and she heard A/iel singing and hustling about the room, 
 busying herself, as if in all the world there were no hap 
 pier maid-of-all-work. Yet, notwithstanding her apparent 
 hilarious activity, she was doing nothing that was not sug 
 gested by her mean opinion of her master his closeness 
 and his cunning. She would be more than a match for 
 him to-night, she thought, a wary smile on her face, as 
 she passed to and fro from kitchen to sitting-room, her 
 hands and feet no more active than her scheming brain, 
 training ready answers for suspicion's closest questions. 
 
 All was at last ready for his coming. A small fire was 
 on the hearth. Two sticks alone sent up their economical 
 blaze, while the large pile of ashes made during the gen 
 erous combustion of the evening had disappeared, through 
 A /id's agency, into the wood-shed. He was so saving of 
 wood, >hc would spare him the sad sight of so much ashes. 
 Thoughtful Aziel! On the little table, beside which she 
 now sat with her knitting in her hand, were preparations 
 just as thoughtful perhaps as innocent as the hiding of 
 the ashes. There were the bottle and the big tumbler, with 
 its ample spoon, and the lemon and the sugar, and on the 
 crane swung the kettle, giving out its gentle breath of 
 steam. Here was placed his large arm-chair, with its 
 generous seat, its high back, and long arms, where one's 
 elbows could rest with ease and safety. Over it was 
 Hung his thick woolen wrapper, while on the floor, in front, 
 were his slippers, inviting to ease. Surely if he could 
 be won by thoughtful ness of his comfort, these prepara 
 tions ought to have made him pleasant to this one sit 
 ting here, upon whose anxious ears now fell his sturdv 
 footsteps. 
 
 Another moment and she should be in his presence ! 
 She nerved herself for the encounter which she felt would 
 prove her courage and her shrewdness, and, with a stony 
 calmness on her features, she faced the door. An instant 
 later, a wringing grasp, as if some grudge was owed it, 
 rattled the brass knob. The door was pushed violently 
 open with a bang that threatened its hinges as it crashed 
 against the wall. Then the man came in, flinging the 
 door back again with a force that shook the house like the
 
 THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. 47 
 
 blow of a giant, and brought down a piece of plaster 
 from the broken ceiling. It fell at his feet. He kick 
 ed it aside, scattering the remnants over the floor, and 
 advanced farther into the room. Now halting, he stood 
 glaring at the woman, who had risen to force a hearty 
 welcome to her lips. But she quailed beneath the fierce 
 ness of his look. What had he seen ? What did he 
 know ? 
 
 A strange and grotesque figure he was, standing there, 
 his tall and angular form trembling with some pent-up 
 passion. A long brownish-white beard straggled down 
 over his coat, while his coat, buttoned up, with its very 
 short waist and very long skirt, straggled down his legs, 
 to meet the bottom of his pants, which had straggled up 
 from IIK shoe-tops. An old white hat, with a napless fur 
 and broad brim, was thrust far upon his head, from which 
 streamed ample locks of hair, like the beard both in color 
 and length, for it fell full down on his shoulders. Nothing 
 of his face was visible, save a faint line of his forehead 
 beneath which jutted two heavy brows. These bristled 
 above eyes that were very small, yet piercing as two con 
 centrated rays of light. A long, thin nose, projecting 
 cheek bones, and temples slightly sunken, completed his 
 visible features. So unamiable were they all that no 
 one would care to know what further unprepossessing 
 ones lay hidden beneath his beard. 
 
 "What are you staring at me for?" he demanded. 
 " Where's your mistress ? Who told her she might go 
 to bed before I came home?" 
 
 " She had a very bad headache, and could not sit up 
 any longer. But see, Mr. Gagger," pointing to the chair 
 and table, " I have got everything ready for you. I 
 thought I would give you a little surprise to-night, and 
 have things at your hand before you asked for them. 
 Here are the materials for the punch, and here are " 
 
 " To the devil with your punch ! Who told you I 
 wanted punch to-night?" 
 
 " I thought you would drink it to-night the same as 
 any other night," she answered, very quietly, deter 
 mined not to be thrown off her guard, lest she should 
 fail in the weightier questions yet to come.
 
 48 AS IT .MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "Well, you thought wrong," he rejoined, with a sneer, 
 hanging up his outer coat and hat as carefully as if they 
 were just new and of the latest fashion. "Look here, 
 A/.iel," he continued, turning to her again, "I want you 
 to understand I am master in this house, and I won't take 
 anybody's suggestions. When I want punch, I will say 
 so, and until I say I. want it don't you dare to again sug 
 gest it." 
 
 "I am sure I meant no disrespect. The things can be 
 easily put away," and she prepared to gather them up. 
 
 " Let them alone ! Who told you to put them away ".' 
 See here," tossing the wrapper on the floor, kicking the 
 slippers across the room, and slowly seating himself, "sit 
 down in that chair, and look me full in the face. I am 
 going to ask you a question, and mind you answer it 
 truthfully. Who was that man I saw skulking out of 
 our lane as I came driving home? I called to him and 
 he ran. Had I had a pistol, I warrant you he would have 
 stopped in a hurry." 
 
 " Why," bringing her hands together with a little gush 
 of joy, "that was my brother! .1 was going to tell you 
 all about him, but you were so angry at my getting your 
 punch ready that you gave me no chance " 
 
 "Stop lying, and speak the truth, even if you are a 
 woman!" he interrupted, putting out his hand with an 
 impatient gesture of disgust. " That man was not your 
 brother. His coming here this time of night, during my 
 absence, and leaving just before my return, prove it. 
 Besides, you alwavs told me yon had no relatives living." 
 
 "So I did," broke in A/iel, covering her face with her 
 apron and beginning to cry. "He went to California 
 years ago, and I thought he was dead. It's not my fault 
 he's alive, and I can't help it if he is fleeing from the 
 law, and has to come and see his sister in secret." 
 
 " Humph ! that is well put ; but I don't believe a 
 word of it," bringing down his palm with a smart blow 
 on the table. " You can't deceive me ! Those tears are 
 pumped too near your eyes. Lying and crying go to 
 gether with women and children." 
 
 " It is the truth I am telling you," sobbed the woman, 
 more violently rocking herself to and fro, and gathering
 
 THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. 49 
 
 the apron in deeper folds about her face. " Yon can ask 
 your wife. She heard the story, how detectives were on 
 his track for robbing a bank in San Francisco, when he 
 had nothing to do with it. Poor fellow, he's safe now, 
 thank Heaven! With the money I gave him, he can 
 put the ocean between him and them before to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 " You can stop now," striking the table with his 
 clenched fist. " You have lied enough to blister any 
 honest tongue ! I am more certain now than when you 
 began that the man is not your brother. Yet " slowly 
 changing his voice to an indifferent tone, lest it might 
 give the slightest betrayal of the suspicion that had just 
 lashed across his mind and made his heart leap with a 
 malickms joy " perhaps I am too hard on yon, A/iel. 
 My suspicious nature got the better of me. He may be 
 your brother, after all. So dry your eyes and go to bed, 
 woman. I will mix and drink my punch alone." 
 
 She rose and turned away from him, her apron still 
 to her face. As she sobbed good-night, she added, going 
 out of the door : " It's very sad to have an outlawed 
 brother, and very hard to be called a liar because of it." 
 
 When she had closed the door, the old man's face 
 lightened with a gleam that sparkled clear down in the 
 depths of his cavernous eyes. He brought his wrinkled 
 and blue-veined hands together, and rubbed them with 
 many a chuckle, as he put this and that together, and saw 
 his pleasing suspicion of who the man might be develop 
 ing itself without a flaw in the chain of circumstances. 
 He saw it all now plainly as the table before him. With 
 this theory, everything that had transpired this evening 
 worked to a charm. The man's secret coming ; his 
 stealthy departure ; his wife's absence from the room ; 
 Aziel's unusual provision for his comfort, and her story, 
 told with such excessive agitation, all these, he saw, bore 
 with marvelous truthfulness on his suspicion of the stran 
 ger's identity. 
 
 It was far past midnight when Silas Gagger went to 
 his room. When he did so, he had matured a plan for 
 future action, so studied in all its details that he had no 
 fear of the result. The result? He could hardly restrain
 
 50 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 himself from laughing outright, as he ascended the stairs 
 and sought his couch, in a room adjoining that where the 
 woman lay for whose entrapping he had spun so cunning 
 a web. Perhaps there was a flaw in this web; for webs, 
 as spiders know, often break where least expected. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HISTOR Y iy PERSPECTIVE. 
 
 WHEN the retreating footsteps of the young man 
 could be no longer heard, the storm of wrath and 
 menace that had been hurtling over the features of Nich 
 olas Grundle began slowly to pass away; but there still 
 remained upon his fare the traces of his angry outburst. 
 Storm and passion alike leave behind them evidences of 
 their violence, which neither the succeeding sunshine nor 
 smile can immediately dispel or conceal. He had lowered 
 his gun to the floor, and now stood leaning upon it, his 
 form trembling with his subsiding passion; his eyes were 
 fixed witli a varying expression upon the girl an expres 
 sion that \vas now angry, now contemptuous, and now a 
 trifle pitiful. But he said nothing, watching her in 
 silence. He only shook his head, with the varying 
 emotions of each successive mood in which he was re 
 garding her. 
 
 The girl still knelt beside the door, where she had sunk 
 down in her .terror, overcome with the awful thought of 
 the deadly peril from which her lover had jn>t escaped. 
 Her little hands were clasped in front of her; her head 
 hud fallen upon her breast. The loosened folds of her 
 abundant hair spread themselves over her slight form, 
 like an airy mantle of golden gossamer, hiding her white 
 face in its creamy folds. She, too, was silent. Beyond 
 the quivering of her lips and a slight trembling of her 
 form with fear, dreading from her father, what, she could 
 not tell, she knelt there like a statue in the act of prayer. 
 From her downi.-a.-t eves she dared not raise them to his
 
 HISTORY IN PERSPECTIVE. 61 
 
 face there stole quiet tears which dropped as gently on 
 her bosom. 
 
 The attitude of suppliance and of fear seemed at last 
 to change the current of his thoughts. He laid aside his 
 weapon, went over to her, and patting her on the head, 
 said, in a tone as kindly as he had ever spoken to her : 
 " There, there, child ! It is all over; I am not angry with 
 you now." 
 
 As his hand rested on her head, he felt her draw slight 
 ly away from his touch, and when she looked up at him 
 in obedience to his command, he saw, for the first time in 
 her life, that her gaze shrank away from him. There was 
 a drooping fear in her eyes such as he had never seen be 
 fore. Until now those eyes had always met his with 
 childisW trustfulness and love. For an instant a shade 
 of vexation, not unmingled with disappointment, passed 
 across his face, but as suddenly it disappeared in the kind 
 ly smile he bent upon her. He stooped down and began 
 to caress her hair and cheeks with a sudden eagerness of 
 affection, murmuring the words of fondness and endear 
 ment that had so often been her delight in all these years 
 they had been together. She reached out her hands, and 
 taking his in her two palms, she pressed it with a fond 
 ling motion to her lips, and as she kissed it, a little gush 
 of tears, in a baptism of reconciliation and forgiveness, 
 fell upon it. 
 
 " Come, child," he said, his voice a trifle husky, for this 
 one here had always power to stir his better emotions, and 
 never so much as now " come, tears were not made for 
 your eyes. So drive them away and come and sit by me 
 in yonder chair. I have something to say to you this 
 night ay, and to show you, too that will make you 
 happy, child, and prove to you how much your poor old 
 father has loved you, and loves you still." 
 
 Never did child more eagerly seize upon a parent's 
 promise. With a little cry of joy, she rose to her feet 
 as he was speaking, and before he had finished, her arms 
 were about his neck, and she exclaiming, in an exuber 
 ance of joy as sudden as a burst of sunshine from a 
 cloudless sky : 
 
 " Oh, will you tell me, father will you tell me to-
 
 52 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 night ? Oh, how I have longed to hear you promise 
 this! I shall know all to-night?" looking up into his 
 face, with her eyes sparkling through the tears that still 
 trembled on her la.shes ; and then drawing nearer to him, 
 until her head rested on his breast, she continued, a deeper 
 yearning in her face and a tremor in her voice : " You 
 Avill tell me now of mother? Oh, I do so want to hear 
 about her ! You will tell me how she looked, and what 
 she did? and how much she loved me when I was a 
 baby? and what she said?" 
 
 His countenance grew graver as she hurried on with 
 these questions, as if she were touching on a forbidden 
 topic; but he brushed away the frown with a quick ges 
 ture of his hand, and silently led her to her stool beside 
 his chair. Then, as he slowly dropped into his seat, she 
 placed herself close to his side. Her hands were now 
 folded in a soft caress upon his knee, while her eyes, full 
 of love, hope and curiosity, looked upward at him out of 
 their innocent depths of childish trust. 
 
 " Put more wood on the fire," he said, abruptly, after 
 several moments of silent gazing into her face, and read 
 ing there the expectancy of a revelation which he had no 
 idea of making. Then, with a sudden show of gaycly, 
 he added, laughing in his shrill, broken voice, and clap 
 ping and rubbing his hands : " We must have the room 
 bright to-night. Yes, it must be bright and warm to 
 night for my dear child and her doting old father." 
 
 She caught the infection of his gleeful manner, and, 
 with a merry laugh, threw handful after handful of brush 
 wood into the chimney-place. The fire, too, soon became 
 merry. It crackled and snapped, and shot out its broad 
 ening flames, until on the round faces of the old andirons 
 there seemed to come a smile of amazement at the gen 
 erous heat about them. And, indeed, such a fire as this 
 had never before blazed on Nicholas Grundle's hearth. 
 
 "Throw on some heavy sticks now," he cried, his mer 
 riment increasing. " Ha, ha ! it's a glorious bright fire. 
 We must make it last while we talk here together. There, 
 that will do !" as she flung on several larger pieces of wood, 
 which for an instant deadened the flames, sending up a 
 column of brown smoke, that was reflected, as it were, in
 
 HISTORY IN PERSPECTIVE. 53 
 
 the sombre look which now had come to his face. For, a 
 man of sudden and curious moods, he was ever changing 
 them when least expected. She resumed her seat by him, 
 and they now sat watching the fire she waiting for him 
 to speak, and he hesitating to begin, so much he knew de 
 pended now upon the manner of his telling. 
 
 " Emily," he said, at last, a tender seriousness in his 
 voice, as he took her hand in one of his and laid the other 
 fondly upon her head, turning her face gently toward him, 
 " how much do you love me ?" 
 
 " More than words can tell, father dear," she answered, 
 with a quick and affectionate response, as earnest and sym 
 pathetic in her look as if indeed she had been but a child at 
 his knee, wondering why he had asked that which he 
 knew So much better than she could tell him. 
 
 " You ought to love me very much," he said, gently, 
 putting aside her hair and gazing down into her face with 
 an expression that absorbed his every feature in its pas 
 sionate yearning. " For sixteen years, my child, I have 
 lived only for you. From the very day you were born, 
 you became a part of myself. Your life was mine, mine 
 was yours. As well might they have asked me to tear my 
 own heart out and live as to be happy away from you. 
 Yes, yes ! they thought it foolish in an old man like me 
 to be so wrapped up in a child. But I kept on loving 
 you, despite them all. And what pleasure it has been to 
 me, all these years, to watch over you, guide you, teach 
 you, and plan for you ! But the time has passed too 
 quickly," he sighed " yes, too quickly ! You have 
 grown too fast too fast of late, my child !" 
 
 Here his hand dropped away from her head, and he fell 
 into a sudden fit of musing, a sad look mellowing his 
 wrinkled face, a far-off expression in his eyes, as they 
 wandered about the room and finally rested upon the fire, 
 while his lips murmured .something she could not hear. 
 She did not break in upon his meditations, though she 
 longed to ask him so many questions questions which 
 had come to her night after night when she was alone in 
 her little room, watching the stars, that gave her no an 
 swer, though she sought it with tears, gazing up at them 
 with wistful longing. Oh, if they would only tell her 
 
 5 *
 
 54 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 what was beyond whether in that bright world to which 
 thcv led the way her mother was watching and waiting 
 for her ! Oh, cruel stars ! ever pointing the path to 
 heaven, yet never revealing aught of its mystery or joy. 
 
 The girl quietly laid her head upon his knee, for he 
 was still silent, and gazed with him into the bright flames, 
 that seemed to beckon them back to happier thoughts. 
 But though ruddier grew the lire, it had no cheering 
 influence for them. He was looking forward, and she 
 backward she through the years that had gone, he 
 through those to come. Youth and age had this night 
 exchanged with each other the future for the past, and 
 memory and hope alike were tinged with sadness. And 
 she remembered what ? How strange it seemed to her 
 that her memory should always start from the self-same 
 point, behind which no effort of her mind could go ! 
 Strive ever so hard, she could begin her life only with 
 the dimmest recollection of a face she believed, she knew 
 not why, must have been her mother's. Where and 
 when the face had bent over her she could not tell. But 
 it was a face she had never seen again since that time it 
 had disappeared, just how or when she could not recall, 
 out of that past which floated, a half-defined vision, in 
 her memories of childhood. But this face, invested as the 
 years had passed with an ever-increasing halo of love and 
 tenderness, had been and was the dearest treasure of her 
 heart. She sank to sleep under its soft glances, and 
 waking saw it beaming over her. And often in the 
 day it was the sweet companion of her thoughts. Even 
 now, as she looked at yonder fire, this face seemed to 
 come out from the very flames and float upward, with its 
 sweet smile, its yearning look and loving glance. 
 
 So it was of her mother's face that Emily thought, and 
 in the absorbing contemplation of that dear countenance 
 all else of her life was forgotten. With this vision so 
 clear before her, she cared to recall no other memory of 
 her strange life a life which the briefest retrospect would 
 have told her had been passed solely with this old man 
 and the woman who now rested in the grass so near them 
 a life in which there had been no pleasure so great as 
 this dim yet precious memory of a mother's face.
 
 HIS TOE Y IN PERSPECTIVE. 55 
 
 Nicholas Grundle was now reviewing her life and his 
 under a far different aspect. To him thus far it had been 
 a very happy, a very successful life. All that he had 
 started out to accomplish had been brought to pass. He 
 had reared the child separate and apart from the world, 
 keeping her mind innocent of its follies and its vices. 
 Besides himself, she had held converse in all these years 
 with only one person, the housekeeper. He had educated 
 her according to his own ideas of what she ought to 
 know ; taught her himself to read and write, and under 
 his own ceaseless attention she had mastered grammar, 
 arithmetic and geography, three branches of learning 
 upon which he laid the greatest stress, and of which, he 
 often told her when her interest flagged, the world was 
 woefully ignorant. 
 
 Nor had he omitted to embellish her mind with history 
 and science. Hour after hour he would read to her a 
 careful selection of historical subjects, ancient and modern, 
 always omitting anytlyng that might suggest the passions 
 and vices of mankind, or taint her thoughts with the 
 slightest impurity. In the daytime, while in the garden, 
 he taught her the sweet mysteries of flower and vegetable 
 life, or the more hidden secrets of the earth itself; and 
 often in the night he would lead her to the door, and 
 point out to her the grand procession of the stars, their 
 names, their movements and their constellations. Nor in 
 her bringing up had he omitted the religious training of 
 her heart. Stranger than all his strange life was it to see 
 him reading to her at night, before they retired, some 
 carefully selected passage from the Bible which bore 
 alike on heavenly and filial duty. 
 
 Nor did he tire of the many questions she asked as he 
 read the mysterious revelations of the sacred book. To 
 one and all he made ready answer, leading her mind ever 
 along the path of truth. When at last she knelt beside 
 him and repeated the prayers he had taught her, he kissed 
 her good-night, and prayed God to watch over her pre 
 cious sleep. Thus had he brought her up. To-night came 
 the questions to him, as he reviewed all his labors and 
 anxiety, Will the result be what I have toiled for? Will 
 these sixteen years at last bring forth the harvest for which
 
 56 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 I have so patiently and diligently worked ? Ah, these are 
 the questions which all laborers in the vineyard of the 
 Avnrld ask ! And who shall answer them for them? Time 
 here, eternity hereafter. 
 
 He turned to her now and spoke. She raised her face 
 with glad expectancy, for surely he would tell her now 
 what she had waited in silence to hear these many years ; 
 for on this subject of her mother he had forbidden her 
 ever to speak to him, and she had obeyed him, though at 
 the cost, of many a secret pang of grief and yearning. Nor 
 had the old housekeeper ever allowed this topic to pass 
 her lips. Cold, taciturn and forbidding on all except triv 
 ial subjects, she had carried this secret into her grave. 
 
 " Emily," he said, speaking so abruptly that it startled 
 her, " for what do you suppose I have been so carefully 
 training you all these years? Why am I living with 
 you all alone, devoting every hour to you ? This is the 
 "rirst time, my child, I have ever asked you this question, 
 and I want you to give it sufficient deliberation to enable 
 you to answer it carefully." 
 
 It was a new question one he had never asked or 
 touched upon before. It made her hesitate a moment, 
 but only a moment, for she replied, with a look of 
 gratitude that expressed far more than her earnest 
 words : 
 
 "You are training me to be a good woman, and oh," 
 bringing her hands together, " I do hope I shall be 
 one !" 
 
 " That's a good answer, my child," patting and kiss 
 ing her ; " but it doesn't go far enough, so I will com 
 plete it for you. I am trying to make a good woman of 
 you, and a wise one, too, and you are fast becoming both," 
 looking at her with a pride that for au instant softened 
 the keenness of his gaze. " I have more in store for you 
 than this. Heaven gave you beauty ; I have done my 
 'best to cultivate your mind and guide your heart. Be 
 sides, I have done that without which your life would be 
 a failure. It must not be a failure. Xo, no! I have 
 schemed and toiled too hard for such an ending." 
 
 " Dear father, I will do all I can to be what you would 
 have me," she said, softly.
 
 HISTORY IN PERSPECTIVE. 57 
 
 He caught at these words with a smile, under the satis 
 faction of which there glimmered a w r ariness her inno 
 cence did not detect. 
 
 " Since you have so pledged yourself to be what I de 
 sire," he resumed, with more confidence in his voice and 
 manner, "I will no longer keep from you the plan that 1 
 have kept steadily in view ever since you first sat upon 
 my knee. What you have told me to-night warns me to 
 keep silence no longer. You are no longer a child. I 
 must talk to you now as a woman one who, for the first 
 time in her life, is called upon to decide between the hap 
 piness and misery of the future. So this boy to-day 
 asked you to promise to become his wife, did he ? What 
 was it you said to him?" 
 
 " I" told him I would ask you," she replied, drooping 
 her eyes for, despite the frankness of her nature, she 
 felt a little shrinking in her heart, as if it would fain keep 
 this secret there. 
 
 " What did he say to that?" 
 
 " He told me that I need not be afraid to ask you ; that 
 you were so kind to me that, if I told you I loved him, 
 you would let him love me, and marry me some day." 
 
 This she had said with her eyes downcast, and with evi 
 dent effort, for her lips had trembled as she spoke the words, 
 and a flush of crimson, deepening as she went on, had 
 dyed her cheeks with a rosy hue that vied with the color 
 of her bright-red, arching mouth. She could not herself 
 have accounted for this agitation and confusion, nor why, 
 for the first time in her life, she found it cost her such an 
 effort to confide in him. Even now an impulse was upon 
 her to run away from his presence, or else burst into tears 
 and ask him to question her no more. 
 
 He seemed to have penetrated her thoughts ; for, putting 
 out his hand, he stroked her hair with a reassuring ges 
 ture of his affection, and said : " There, there, child ! you 
 need not be afraid of me. The boy spoke fair to you, 
 no doubt. But, some day, I will show you a man you 
 will think more of than a hundred boys like this one, 
 who talks of what he does not know and cannot under 
 stand." 
 
 She looked up at him with a questioning face, a dazed
 
 58 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 look, as if she had heard his words only, and had no com 
 prehension of their meaning except their earnestness. 
 
 " You wonder who this man shall be ? "\Vhv, when you 
 become a woman, he shall be your husband a great- man, 
 a rich man. You shall live in a grand house with him. 
 He will love you worship you ! All the women shall 
 envy you all the men envy him. And I? Why, I will 
 sit all day and watch you, with these eyes running over 
 with joy until they close for ever. So tell this boy to 
 morrow," he went on, with increasing enthusiasm, "that 
 you cannot marry him, for your father has promised you 
 to another man a great man, a rich man, a noble man ! 
 Tell him I say my darling child shall never be a poor man's 
 wife. She shall never know hardship, want and sorrow. 
 No, no ! Let him go his way again. He must find some 
 one else to share his crust and water for that is all he 
 has to offer you." 
 
 Here he broke off in a wild, contemptuous laugh, and 
 threw out his hands with a repellent disgust. Then, be 
 fore the girl could give expression to one of the many 
 thoughts that crowded on her mind, he said : 
 
 " We have talked about it enough to-night. To-morrow 
 morning I will tell you more. Get me the Bible ; it is 
 time for bed.'' 
 
 She brought him the Book, and he opened it and read. 
 But she heard never a word ; only his voice, now and 
 then, in shriller cadence, arrested the strange current of 
 her thoughts, down which floated, in inextricable con 
 fusion, odd fancies, misgivings, hopes and fears. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A SUDDEN DEPARTURE. 
 
 TO Volney Slade just now the world was bright and 
 alluring with promise. Standing on the threshold 
 of the new life he had marked out for himself, he held 
 no counsel with doubt. Buoyant, confident and strong 
 in hope, he longed to begin that battle with the world in
 
 A SUDDEN DEPARTURE. 59 
 
 which he already saw himself the easy victor, bearing 
 away the spoils of wealth and fame. Restless, nervous 
 and impatient, his life during the past five years had 
 made him more so. He hated this farm life and every 
 thing connected with it. To him it was at best a dreary 
 and monotonous existence, and his incessant longing to 
 get away from it, and seek employment more congenial 
 to his tastes, had at last taken definite form, in his reso 
 lution to leave his home and seek his fortune in the city. 
 Nor had he any doubt of a good fortune awaiting him. 
 No youth had ever felt more certain of that. It was 
 there. All that he had to do was to go and work for it, 
 and it would come. He was a firm believer in the gospel 
 of work, in the fruits of industry; but it must be the 
 work "of his choice work in which he could take an in 
 terest, and for which his genius was adapted. He had 
 unwavering faith in his genius. He felt it struggling 
 within him, and impatiently waiting, like himself, for a 
 suitable opportunity to display itself. To be sure, he had 
 invented many useful little appliances about the house and 
 barn, which simplified and saved labor as well ; but how 
 trifling were these successes compared to what he could 
 achieve had he the tools and the chance ! And these he 
 knew could only be found in the great city he had read 
 about, where manufactories and machine shops, with tall 
 chimneys and ponderous hammers, filled the air with 
 smoke and din. Such was his anticipation, such his de 
 termination. In vain had his mother suggested the im 
 probabilities of the one and the foolishness of the other. 
 He only answered her with the impetuous reiteration of 
 his resolution. His nurse had more than once ventured 
 to affect his determination by appealing to his sympathies, 
 and representing how lonely and miserable his mother 
 and she would be without him. To this he would reply 
 that of two evils he must choose the least; that it \vas 
 better for them to be lonely than that he should remain 
 on the farm and lose the golden opportunity of his life. 
 
 Another and perhaps as strong an inducement as his am 
 bition to leave the place was his hatred for and contempt 
 of his stepfather, and the irksomeness of a position which 
 showed the slightest dependence upon his bounty. The
 
 60 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 boyish jealousy, which, from the beginning of the court 
 ship, had rebelled at this marriage, had firmly grown into 
 an aversion which he took no pains, to conceal, and which, 
 on the other hand, was fully reciprocated. Stepfather and 
 stepson had always been in collision the one continually 
 insisting on obedience and respect, the other as steadily 
 refusing either. Thus from the first they had gone on 
 combating each other, until now each held the other in 
 derision and contempt, steadily avoiding each other's pres 
 ence, and, when that was impossible, exchanging the few 
 est words of frigid civility. 
 
 This morning the young man had come down to his 
 breakfast even later than usual. Worried and distracted 
 in his mind about the girl he loved for he had passed 
 the night in many doubts and misgivings as to the result 
 of his suit he more than ever wished to eat his meal 
 without the presence of his stepfather. He did not feel 
 as if he could endure having his jaded mind goaded by 
 the sneers or harsh words of this man, who lately had 
 met him with little else. As he entered the room, he 
 quickly saw that his stepfather, who cast him a surly 
 look, was evidently waiting for his appearance. And the 
 pale, anxious face of his mother, as she greeted him with 
 a tremulous "Good-morning," had in its covert glance an 
 imploring expressing, as if .-he were asking him for her 
 sake to keep the peace with this man here. Beyond the 
 haughty greeting of a stilf bow to the eyes that now 
 scowled ominously at him, the young man made no re 
 turn, but took his seat in silence, while a soft sigh of re 
 lief escaped his mother's lips. Only a few moments ago 
 she had so dreaded their coming together. It was some 
 thing to be thankful for that they had met at least in 
 silence. 
 
 The silence, like that which hushes the air before ihe 
 bursting of the storm, was of short duration, and as sud 
 denly broken: "So you joined in the laugh against me 
 last night, did you? You were one of those fools who 
 tried to stop freedom of speech, were you? I saw you 
 stamping and shouting with the rest. Yet you have the 
 impudence to come this morning and sit down at my 
 table and eat my bread and butter ! What a high-spirited,
 
 A SUDDEX DEPARTURE. 61 
 
 noble young man you arc, to be sure, eating the bread of 
 idleness, and content to be dependent on the man you so 
 much despise !" 
 
 The anger with which the old man had begun to speak 
 now subsided into the cutting sneer of these last words. 
 There was a pause and a hush that for an instant suc 
 ceeded this outburst. Then the young man slowly pushed 
 away his plate, laid his knife and fork quietly beside it, 
 and rose to his feet. His face was now even whiter than 
 his mothcr'-s, who sprang toward him and caught him by 
 the arm, and besought him to come away and make no 
 reply. He smiled contemptuously at her fears, and put 
 aside her hands, which lie could scarcely release, so tight 
 ly did she cling to him. Then, folding his arms, he 
 flashed* his eyes upon the man who had insulted him. 
 As yet he could not command himself to speak, nor could 
 he wholly still the impulse that strove with him to wipe 
 out this insult with a blow upon the craven face that now 
 cowered beneath the white heat of his ga/c. 
 
 At last he conquered himself and spoke, and in his 
 voice was a forced calmness, which told full well what 
 a torrent of wrath was surging beneath his utterance. 
 " You have spoken the truth," he said. " I do despise 
 you, from the very bottom of my heart, and I despise 
 myself to think I have so long remained under your 
 roof and sat at your table. I have never eaten the 
 bread of idleness ; I have earned far more and better 
 bread than your meanness has provided for this table, 
 from which Poverty could go away hungry, and the ap 
 petite of Starvation look in vain for relief. Dependent 
 on you ! No worse curse could fall upon man or beast. 
 I thank God it is not for me to be a recipient of your 
 generous bounty. I will gladly leave this place, this 
 very day yes, this very hour. And mark me well, sir, 
 were it not for my mother, I had never entered your 
 house, from which I carry not a single pleasant memory." 
 
 Turning from him he went straight back to his room, 
 to make good his promise of immediate departure. Upon 
 returning, soon after, with a small valise in his hand, he 
 found his mother alone, with her head bowed upon the 
 table.
 
 62 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 " Good-bye, mother !" he said, raisins; her face and kiss 
 ing her wet cheeks. "I might as well go now as ever. 
 You will see me again very soon. I will write to you in 
 a few days, and when I am well on the road to success, I 
 will come and tell you all about it. And, mother" he 
 hesitated, while his cheeks flushed and a softer tone came 
 into his voice "please forget my angry words of yester 
 day. I did not mean them. I know you have always 
 done the best you could for me, and I am grateful to 
 you for it, indeed I am." 
 
 She drew his head down upon her bosom, and kissed 
 him over and over again. She strained him to her heart 
 as she had done in those dark and lonely days when lie 
 had been a child, and her crushed hopes had found life 
 again in him. But as she had never told him then aught 
 of her sorrow, so now she kept from him the revelation 
 of the night before. Yes, he should go away ignorant of 
 this fresh grief and greater peril which now threatened 
 his mother. He returned her embrace, and pressing 
 her lips with a parting kiss, he hurried to the door, dash 
 ing the tears from his eyes as he went. He had thought 
 it an easy task to bid her good-bye, but in this brief space 
 of parting what memories of her love came back to him ! 
 His hand was on the latch, when a faint cry from her 
 called him back. And as he came to her, she put a purse 
 into his hand. He refused to take it, for he knew 
 how much of self-denial was represented in these scant 
 savings. 
 
 "No, no keep it!" he said. "You need this more 
 than I. I have enough to take care of me until I can 
 earn more. God bless you, mother! you are too kind to 
 me. And I have been so harsh to you these past few 
 days! ]>ut you have forgiven me fully, freely?" 
 
 For answer she caught him again in her outstretched 
 arms; and in another moment he had gone out of the 
 room, leaving her there, her face buried in her hands, the 
 purse upon the floor where it had fallen. As he passed 
 hurriedly through the kitchen, Aziel, darting across the 
 room, placed herself in his way. She spoke his name 
 hesitatingly, and with such a tender accent that he stopped, 
 and greeted her with a kindlier look than was his wont
 
 A SUDDEN DEPARTURE. 63 
 
 when she addressed him so familiarly. Strange he always 
 thought it and he had often told her so that she should 
 always talk and act toward him, when they were alone, as 
 if she were still his nurse and he a child. 
 
 "You will let me call you Volney, now that you are 
 going to leave me?" she said, laying her hand lightly 
 upon his arm. " I heard it all," nodding toward the 
 room he had left, "and you spoke to him like a man, as 
 you are," looking at him proudly through eyes he saw 
 had been weeping. 
 
 "Yes," he rejoined, with triumph in his smile, as he 
 took her hand in his hearty clasp; "I think I did honor 
 to my nurse. You brought me up, Aziel and I thank 
 you for it with an independent and unbroken spirit. It 
 shall wever bend or break beneath the power of such a 
 man as he." 
 
 " Nor anv other man !" she said, her faith in him filling- 
 
 i ~ 
 
 her face with a glow of confidence and admiration. 
 " Wherever you go, I know you w r ill be a king among 
 men." 
 
 " I shall try to make good your prophecy. But good 
 bye," he said, shaking her hand. " I must get away from 
 this house. I shall feel more like a man, when I have 
 shaken its dust from my feet." 
 
 Still she detained him. Her hands had crept slowly 
 up to his shoulders with a tremulous motion. There 
 was a yearning look on her face, as if she longed for 
 something she dared not express ; and in her eyes, that 
 now fell beneath his questioning gaze, there was the self 
 same expression he had known from childhood, and had 
 often seen in later years, when he had caught her looking 
 at him from her seat behind the fireplace in the other 
 room. It was a mysterious look this u one, of love most 
 certainly, yet veiled in an indescribable control of the 
 features, as if its existence were a pleasure, but its full 
 revelation must not find expression. 
 
 " Well, what is it ?" he questioned, perplexed but 
 patient. " What would my dear, good nurse ask of her 
 boy ?" 
 
 " A parting kiss," she murmured, and he felt her hands 
 clinging more closely to him.
 
 64 AS IT MAY NAPPES. 
 
 " Is that all ?" lie laughed, throwing his arms about 
 her. *' Why, you poor hungry soul, there are three of 
 them for you!" suiting the action to the word. 
 
 " And may I kiss you good-bye?" she said, still holding 
 to him as if she eould not let him go. 
 
 "Yes, yes ! AVliy, Aziel, what an odd question ! Kiss 
 me all you want to, and then, I beg of you, let me go." 
 
 Smiling through her tears, she kissed him, bid him 
 God-speed, and blessed him ; then she turned slowly away, 
 and hid her face in her apron. She could not bear to see 
 him leave her; for, when he should go out of that door, 
 she knew that all that had made her life happy had gone 
 out with his departing steps. 
 
 "Good-bve, Aziel! You will soon hear from your 
 boy." 
 
 With these words, that Biade her sobs break out 
 afresh, he sprang across the threshold, and ran lightly 
 down the path leading to the woodlands that skirted the 
 rear of the farm, but was no portion of its domain. As 
 soon as he reached the forest, he turned and took a part 
 ing look at the farm-house. Pie saw Aziel standing at 
 the kitchen-door, and she waved her hand to him. He 
 waved his in return, threw up his valise in the air, and 
 caught it again, with a joyous shout. Then, with a bound, 
 he leaped the fence, and disappeared in the woods. A 
 few moments brought him to a little clearing which had 
 been made by his own hands. Here a brook ran babbling 
 along its course a brook over which he had built a rustic 
 bridge, from which lie had launched many a boat that had 
 foundered ere it began its voyage. On the farther bank, 
 close by an old dead tree, was a seat he himself had fash 
 ioned there, years ago, out of dead limbs and branches. 
 Into this seat the place where he had spent many quiet, 
 thoughtful hours he cast himself, and soon he began to 
 have thoughts more serious, and more pleasurable, too, 
 than had ever before come to him in this place, which 
 from boyhood had been his favorite resort.
 
 THE HASTE OF JEALOUSY. 65 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE HASTE OF JEALOUSY. 
 
 T IFE had opened to Volney Slade in earnest now. Yet 
 \ 1 it was an agreeable opening, for from the threshold 
 of expectation he was viewing the future. The sun, 
 whose beams now fell upon him, was not warmer than 
 his hopes, nor the wide blue heaven above him greater 
 than his designs, which thrilled the blood in his veins as 
 he pictured his future a bright scroll upon which he 
 should write his name in letters of gold. Twenty years 
 old, and his own master ! Happy thought. To think, to 
 plan, to 'do for himself what true freedom it was ! The 
 drudgery of farm-life left for ever, and the wide world 
 before him how his eye kindled and his heart vibrated 
 with the thought ! The birds that sang in the trees above 
 him gave forth no more entrancing song than this, nor 
 the merry brook no sweeter melody. After thus giving 
 for quite a while free rein to his fancies and his hopes, 
 he returned again to more sober thoughts ; for, happy as 
 he was in his present free condition, he did not forget that 
 it had brought with it a responsibility for failure which 
 now belonged to him alone. He had started out to be his 
 own guide and counselor, and how, and where, and what 
 to do, he must now for and by himself decide. He was 
 not without a plan. Strong purpose never fails for want 
 of a plan. His purpose in life had been too long, and 
 thoughtfully, and resolutely forming to find him now 
 asking himself what it was best for him to do, where he 
 should go, and how begin his new life. He took out his 
 pocket-book, and slowly began to examine its contents. 
 A look of pleasure came to him as he turned over a small 
 roll of bills, and knew that they assured him of food and 
 shelter for some time to come, even if his first wages 
 were small, as he anticipated they would be. 
 
 A deeper satisfaction stole over his features as he 
 brought to view a small piece of paper and began to 
 read it, half aloud. It was an advertisement, clipped 
 from a weekly paper published in the city to which he
 
 66 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 was going. It had been his custom to cut out of this 
 journal any and all advertisements which bore in the 
 least upon the trade to which he had devoted his 
 thoughts and all his spare time. Many of these adver 
 tisements he had answered by letter, but the responses 
 had as yet failed to come up to his expectations. But 
 he had never despaired of success, and now he was sure 
 of it. A machinist lie had always hoped to be, and a 
 machinist he should be, he thought, as he re-read this 
 little slip of printed paper, which, coming into his pos 
 session only the day before, held out to him the great 
 est promise for his hopes. 
 It read as follows : 
 
 WANTED A YOUXIr MAX TO LEAKX THE CAKE OF 
 Machinery, and to make himself generally useful in repairs, in 
 a cotton factory." Apply to WILLIAM MAESH, at Highland Mills, 
 Manayunk, Pa. 
 
 If this had been his own advertisement, written by him 
 self, it could not better describe the situation he desired. 
 This, to him, striking coincidence seemed the first stroke 
 of fortune a presentiment of his success. How odd if 
 he Avere to get the place, and find himself to-morrow in the 
 very situation he had longed and waited for ! Nor did he 
 think himself too sanguine. Stranger things than this 
 had happened in the world. He had read of them, heard 
 of them, and seen them. There had often been lucky 
 chances in men's lives, a happy concurrence of circum 
 stances that gave them success, or set them on the road to 
 it, when they least expected help. Why should not For 
 tune smile on him ? She did ; she would. He knew it. 
 Already he was transported to the scene of his labors and 
 his triumphs. The lofty granite building, with story piled 
 upon story, loomed up before him. He could see the 
 smoke belching from the huge chimney, and hear the dull 
 roar of the furnaces that made the mighty engine pulsate 
 with an energy that vibrated through the great mass of 
 machinery until the remotest spindle felt its throbbing life. 
 He entered the spacious office with a hesitating step. But 
 why had he hesitated ? No sooner was his errand an 
 nounced than he was told the situation had not been filled, 
 and he could have it. And now he was at work, stir-
 
 THE HASTE OF JEALOUSY. 67 
 
 rounded by many of the machines he had read about, and 
 some he thought he must have seen in his dreams, for they 
 seemed familiar even in their strangeness. How glorious 
 it all was ! What a harmony in the thousand sounds of 
 this rushing whirl, and din, and roar, and clatter of wheels 
 and pulleys, and shafts and belts, and carding and spin 
 ning machines, and looms ! Above it all rang out the 
 laugh and song of happy labor, from the strong lungs of 
 men, and the soft and sweeter lips of women. 
 
 The sweetest dreams end and visions vanish ; and of- 
 tenest when we most believe them real and long for more. 
 So it was with this one. He would have never of his own 
 volition checked his imagination in his picture-paint 
 ing, and would have gone on with his castle-building 
 far into* the day, had not the distant baying of a dog 
 broken in upon his fancy's spell, and brought his mind 
 back to the realities of the present hour with startling 
 suddenness. He rose to his feet with a flash of joy and 
 listened. Again the sound came from the valley, and he 
 recognized it with that quick perception that ever belongs to 
 a lover's ears. It was the baying of Emily's dog Caesar. She 
 must be with him. Another stroke of fortune ! He could 
 see her without waiting till evening, the usual hour for their 
 secret meeting. He caught up his valise, and sped down 
 the hill with flying feet; yet not faster did they leap alorig 
 the ground than did his heart beat with eager excitement. 
 A thousand conjectures as to the result of his interview 
 with her rushed through his mind. What had she to tell 
 him about the night before ? What had her father said ? 
 Had he refused his consent ? Was she still determined to 
 love him? or was her father more to her than himself? 
 Panting with his exertion, and with his face showing his 
 excitement, he leaped the brook the last time in his head 
 long course, patted the dog, who had bounded to meet 
 him, parted a dense copse of willows, and in another mo 
 ment was in her presence. He would have rushed to her 
 and caught her in his arms, but there was that in her look 
 and attitude which restrained him. 
 
 Seated on the trunk of a fallen tree, Emily cast a shy look 
 up at him, then dropped her eyes upon her hands, which 
 were tightly folded in her lap, and worked convulsively,
 
 68 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 as if she were striving in this way to get control of herself. 
 She was trembling violently despite her efforts, and the 
 tears, though forced back with all her will, would well up 
 in her eyes. He gave no expression to the disappoint 
 ment he felt at her strange and unusual reception. He 
 approached her slowly, speaking her name softly ; then 
 he seated himself beside her and took her hand in his. 
 It was cold and tremulous, but she did not draw it away 
 from him. On the contrary, she nestled closer to him, and 
 with a little sob laid her head upon his shoulder, her face 
 still downcast and half hidden by the folds of her hood. 
 He pushed away the hood and looked into her eyes. She 
 gave back to his inquiring gaze an expression of love, that 
 had a reserve and timidity in it he had never seen before. 
 A great contrast was this to her frank and happy ways of 
 only the day previous, when they had sat in this very 
 spot, and she had talked and laughed with him as freely 
 as a child might have done, telling him how much she 
 loved him with an artlessness of manner as bewitching to 
 him as the simple modesty with which she had received 
 his caresses and listened to his plans for their married life 
 a life which was as new to her thoughts as any Arabian 
 tale he might have told her. 
 
 What had wrought such a change in her ? he asked 
 himself, as he gazed more intently into her face ; and 
 somehow the returning smile was veiled in sadness. The 
 look of love was still in her eyes, but out of their blue 
 depths there came no sparkle, no rushing light of her soul 
 through them, as if they would tell him more of her love, 
 and better, too, than her lips could express. Unable 
 longer to endure the suspense of his fears, he kissed her 
 passionately, and begged her to speak and tell him what 
 had so changed her. 
 
 "Tell me the worst," he said,, with a confident smile, 
 that had the faintest trace of bitterness in it. " I can bear 
 to hear anything this morning. I never felt so strong or 
 so defiant of fortune. Yes, Emily, I am able to cope with 
 any ill-news, save that you do not love me. That I could 
 not bear to hear, for your love is my strength, my hope, 
 my only joy !'' 
 
 "And you will always love me, won't you?" she asked,
 
 THE HASTE OF JEALOUSY. 69 
 
 with a trifle of energy in the suddenness with which she- 
 put the question. "You will not forget me? You could 
 not grow tired of me ?" 
 
 While there was a resolute faith in the earnest face up 
 turned to his, there was in her voice a beseeching tone, as 
 if the answer he would make should assure her beyond 
 the slightest doubt of the endurance of his affection. 
 Young though she was in love's experience, she had al 
 ready learned that love's sweetest, dearest secret was the 
 consciousness of being loved, and loved wholly, fully, 
 devotedly, unceasingly, for ever. 
 
 At any other time, and under any other circumstances, 
 had she asked him such questions, he would have laughed 
 outright and gently chided her for being so silly. But 
 just noA*, on the eve of his going away from her, and 
 remembering his adventure at the cottage the night be 
 fore, and his suspicions of Avhat her father had been say 
 ing to her, these questions had a deeper meaning to him 
 than the mere desire on her part to have him reiter- 
 erate his pledges of affection. In them he heard the echo 
 of her father's voice. They were to him the simple repe 
 tition of the old man's words, his suggestions, his poison 
 ous insinuations, his evil prophecies, by which he hoped 
 to bring their love to naught. How should he answer 
 her? He tried to do so with something of calmness, but 
 stung by the thought that her father had taken so mean 
 an advantage of him, and not a little hurt that, influenced 
 by such insinuations, she could be so ready to doubt him, 
 he lost control of himself, and for the first time spoke 
 harshly to her. 
 
 " If you loved me as much as you ought, or as I 
 thought you did, you would not ask me such questions !" 
 he said, looking at her for the instant half angrily, half 
 contemptuously ; then checking himself for he saw her 
 lips quiver, and her face grow white, with a scared look 
 he went on, trying to smile : " But I am not angry with 
 you. Your father is to blame for this. He told you that 
 ray love for you could not last ; that I would forget you 
 that I would grow tired of you. Oh, Emily !" with 
 a reproachful look, though he caught her in his arms and 
 passionately kissed her -"how could you believe him?
 
 70 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 The veriest child, it seems to me, ought to have seen 
 through his designs. Yet I forgot" his voice more 
 soothing and manner more tender "you are but a child, 
 after all a child though a woman grown. You are not 
 to blame ; he has made you so. I love you all the more 
 because you are so childlike in all your thoughts and 
 ways. AVere you otherwise, I would not love you half 
 so much." 
 
 His words had well described her character and appear 
 ance, for in these respects she seemed indeed a child. She 
 had a small and slight figure and a fresh, frank face, 
 whose eyes wore the open look of honesty itself. Her 
 words were as free as her manner, and both of them art 
 less and innocent. Guileless to the fullest degree, she 
 suspected no evil, for her own purity and ingenuousness 
 were the measure of her faith and trust in others. He 
 had called her a child; and who was more conscious of the 
 fact than she herself, sitting here beside him, chiding herself 
 for having asked him if he would always love her? Cer 
 tainly she was a child, or she would not have put to him 
 so foolish a question. Had he not told her many, many 
 times that he would love her till his dying day? Had 
 she not believed him? did she not believe him now? 
 For answer to these questions, she put her arms around 
 his neck and kissed him; for he had often told her that, 
 when she loved him most, she must kiss him this way, 
 and especially whenever she should see a frown upon his 
 face. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said, pressing her to him. "I know 
 you love me. I will never doubt you. Come what may 
 between us, I am sure you will love me to the end !" 
 
 " What can come between us?" she asked, with ques 
 tioning, wide-open eyes, clinging to him with a little 
 shudder of fear. "I know you will always love me, 
 and I shall always love you; and father says if I love 
 you as much in four years from this time as I do now, 
 I may marry you. Oh, we shall be so happy then !" 
 
 She clasped her hands together in an ecstasy of glee, 
 but suddenly relapsed into silence, as she saw the grave 
 look that had so quickly overshadowed his face. 
 
 " Four years to wait !" he bitterly exclaimed, after a
 
 THE HASTE OF JEALOUSY. 71 
 
 long pause, during which he had steadily scanned her 
 face, as if he would find there some trace of mischief, 
 some evidence that she had spoken these words only to 
 try him. " Poor, innocent child ! Your father may de 
 ceive you with such a promise, but he cannot me. Four 
 years to wait ! Who can tell what may not happen in 
 those four years? No,-, no, Emily ; your father might as 
 well have said, ' Wait for ever/ for I see plainly he will 
 never consent to our marriage. Tell me, what else did he 
 say? What objection did he make to our marrying now, 
 or as soon as I get a situation in the city and am able to 
 support you ?" 
 
 " Ho says I am too too young to marry, that that I 
 must wait till I am twenty ; and, besides, he wants me to 
 see sortie one " 
 
 Here she broke down. She could not go o and tell 
 him this, when his face looked so distressed and sad. 
 Already she saw a shadow of distrust creeping across his 
 countenance, which sent a sharp pang through her heart 
 and suddenly sealed her lips. 
 
 He was in no mood for silence now. Indeed, he had, 
 with a lover's rapidity of reasoning, apprehended what 
 she had been about to tell him, and, lover-like, he had 
 misconstrued the motive of her silence. If she loved 
 him with her whole heart, why did she not give him her 
 full confidence? he asked himself. AVas it possible that 
 she, so childlike in appearance, had a designing and de 
 ceitful heart in her bosom? Why did she not tell him 
 all, with that frank confidence and simple faith with 
 which until this hour she had always talked to him ? If 
 she meant to be true to him, what was there for her to 
 conceal ? Goaded to a frenzy of jealousy, which showed 
 itself in the tremor of his voice and the quick way with 
 which he put her from him and rose to his feet, he stood 
 looking down upon her in pity and anger, and, with all 
 trace of love gone out of his face, said : 
 
 " So there is some one else, is there, to whom your kind 
 father would give your heart and hand ? And I am- to 
 wait until you see this man and decide between him and 
 me ? Oh, Emily, how you have deceived me ! Your 
 heart so fickle, and your vows so false ! when I believed
 
 72 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 you as fully as I would the Spirit of Truth come down 
 from heaven." 
 
 Ho turned away from her and began to stride around 
 the little inclosure where they were, biting his lips and 
 clench ing his hands, so overcome by the violence of his 
 emotions that he could find no adequate expression for 
 them, unless indeed he were to throw himself upon the 
 ground and cry aloud in the agony of his despair. 
 
 And she ? Poor child ! With a groat sob she buried 
 her face in her hands, and rocking to and fro, wept tears 
 more bitter than she had ever known. With the self- 
 accusation born of her deep and abiding love for him, 
 she blamed herself wholly for this grief she saw him in. 
 She had caused it all and when she loved him so! 
 What should she do? She crept softly over to where he 
 stood, whUe and rigid, his eyes fixed upon the ground, 
 and put her hand upon his shoulder. He let it rest there, 
 but did not turn, nor look at her, nor give any indication 
 that he knew she was by him. 
 
 " Forgive me," she said, and with great effort, though 
 the voice w-as tender and pleading. " You will speak to 
 me again you will " 
 
 "Yes, I will speak to you!" and the cold harshness of 
 his voice startled her so that she drew a pace away from 
 him, and then, with a little gesture of dismay at the 
 look he gave her, her head drooped upon her bosom, and 
 she stood there as some girl-martyr of the olden time 
 might have stood, waiting for the unseen blow so soon to 
 fall. " I am going away from this place for good. Be 
 fore night I shall be in the city, a hundred miles from 
 here ; and to-morrow I shall seek my fortune among 
 strangers. God grant they may be kinder to me than 
 you have been, Emily !" 
 
 She raised her head, and the white look of speechless 
 agony in it, and the little half-articulate cry that parted 
 her whiter lips, ought to have chocked his passion ay, 
 melted his heart; but jealousy is blind as well as furious, 
 and he went on : 
 
 " You cannot deny you have deceived me. You gave 
 me your promise yes, you even took a solemn vow to be 
 my wife, and now, as I leave you to go and seek my for-
 
 THE BASTE OF JEALOUSY. 73 
 
 time, and foolishly thought that I should take with me 
 the last assurance of your plighted love, you give me 
 instead to understand that there is some one else between 
 whom and me you are to choose. That choice " with a 
 derisive laugh " is to be made within the next four 
 years !" 
 
 She tried to speak to him, to move toward him, but she 
 could do neither. It seemed to her as if her throat was 
 filling up with some huge lump, and her hot tongue 
 growing to the roof of her mouth, and her whole body 
 gradually becoming rigid. His harsh utterances, and 
 manner even more repelling, had driven back what she 
 would have spoken and even struggled to articulate despite 
 this chilling spell of silence. Neither voice nor words 
 came t her aid, and he looking at her so reproachfully. 
 
 " Good-bye!" he said, turning to her with a gesture of 
 contemptuous pity. " The sooner I go the better for us 
 both. Besides, there are four years left to us to talk this 
 matter over, should we meet again. And mark me, 
 Emily, if we ever come together, it shall be at your 
 request, not mine." 
 
 Like a terror-stricken child, she stood mute and motion 
 less. Again she tried to speak to him, but she could 
 not. She put out her hand gropingly, but it fell power 
 less to her side. Strange perversity of a lover's nature ! 
 He took these signs of weakness for evidences of guilt. 
 She said nothing, because she had no defence to make. 
 She even shrank from touching him, and well she might. 
 
 " Good-bye !" He touched her cheek with a cold kiss. 
 "We will part with this formality, at least." 
 
 Before she could rouse herself to look up at him he 
 was gone, and she heard his swift departing footsteps 
 beyond the copse that hid him from sight. He was gone! 
 and what if she should never see him again ? This was 
 her sole and only thought, as she sank down where she 
 was, and'saw the blue sky, and trees, and fields fade into 
 indistinctness, and then go out in utter darkness. When 
 she returned to consciousness and opened her eyes, Ca?sar, 
 who had crept close beside her, whined and wagged his 
 tail, arid looked out of his great black eyes as sympathet 
 ically as if he understood all her trouble. 
 1
 
 74 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "Oh, Crcsar !" she cried, with a burst of tears, as the 
 recollection of what had happened came back with sud 
 den vividness, " he has gone, and I shall never see him 
 again !" 
 
 Then, as if Ciesar were the only friend left to her in 
 this cruel world, she threw her arms around him, laid her 
 head upon his huge neck, and wept out her sorrow there. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 WHO AND WHAT WAS HE? 
 
 "VTICHOLAS GllUXDLE had been a pleased spectator 
 \ of what had occurred at the willow copse, for im 
 mediately after Emily had left the cottage, on her way to 
 the brook, on the apparent errand of taking the cow to 
 water, he had hastened to the barn with a cunning smile 
 on his wrinkled face. Strange, indeed, was it that, so late 
 in his life, he had learned and learned it, too, where least 
 expected that Love teaches cunning to Innocence. As 
 cending the ladder with a more agile step than usual, he 
 struggled through the hay, which threatened to stifle him 
 with its cloud of dust and seeds, and placed himself be 
 side a large chink in the boards, where he commanded a 
 full view of the brook and its surroundings. 
 
 "So she still thinks she can deceive me, does she?" he 
 muttered, pressing his eves close to the aperture, and cov 
 ering with his vision her retreating form. "She is going 
 to meet him now I can tell it by her walk. See, she 
 turns around, and casts her eyes back, to see if I am 
 watching her. Ah, she is a child no longer ! She is a 
 woman, and learning deception fast ; and he has taught 
 her. How blind I have been not sooner to see the change 
 which has come over her ! And yet, what change has 
 there been in the child ? Xone to me, at least -just as 
 obedient, and docile, and loving, as ever. Have I not 
 her promise, given this morning, that, when next she 
 meets him, she will tell him he must wait four years, and 
 that she has agreed with me to see the man of mv choice
 
 WHO AND WHAT WAS HE? 75 
 
 before she marries this fellow, who will never be able, of 
 his own means, to marry ? Yes, she may meet him in 
 secret this morning, as she thinks she will ; but I know 
 she will be true to her promise to me " 
 
 He stopped short in his soliloquy, for the movements 
 of the girl now absorbed his attention. She had watered 
 the cow, and, tethering the animal to a sapling that grew 
 close beside the stream, she had herself gone, with the 
 dog, into the little inclosure, where she seated herself upon 
 the log, and Caesar gamboled around her. 
 
 "She is thinking of him now/' resumed the old man, 
 noticing her quiet attitude, her head resting between her 
 two hands, and her eyes bent upon the ground. " She 
 little knows how angry he will be when she tells him what 
 she hfft promised me. He will quarrel with her I am 
 sure of that. He will upbraid her, and charge her with 
 deceiving him ; and she why, she will be frightened and 
 lose her tongue, and he will take her silence for guilt. 
 Just what I want ! Ah, young man, she may love you, 
 and you her, but I can see how well my plan w T ill work to 
 separate you, for a time at least ; and, before you can come 
 together again, we shall be in another part of the country. 
 Ha, ha, Nicholas Grundle ! You are as cunning as ever !" 
 
 He broke out into such a merry laugh, with his shrill, 
 cackling voice, that a bat overhead was roused from his 
 sleep, and darted on swift wing around the barn, rapidly 
 circling here and there, as if some evil spirit were pursu 
 ing him, until he disappeared through the door. 
 
 "A good omen!" said Grundle, gleefully rubbing his 
 hands as the bat flew away. "It tells me that fellow will 
 leave Emily as quickly." 
 
 He looked again in the direction of the brook, and his 
 countenance on the instant was fixed in rapt and breath 
 less attention. The lovers had met. He saw how they 
 greeted each other, and every subsequent motion of their 
 bodies was as intelligible to him as if he had heard their 
 conversation. 
 
 "Yes, he is angry with her!" muttered Grundle, satis 
 faction deepening on his eager face. " See ! he shakes his 
 head and moves away from her. She tries to pacify him, 
 and she puts her hand on his arm, but he does not turn to
 
 76 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 her. There! he speaks in anger. I can see it, for she 
 has started away from him. Ah, lie kisses her, and then 
 darts away out of sight! It's a quarrel, and a good one. 
 It will last long enough for my purposes !" 
 
 After waiting a few moments to see whether the lover 
 would return, Nicholas Grundle, congratulating himself 
 with many a chuckle and rubbing of his hands, left his 
 outlook, descended the ladder, and made his way to the 
 cottage. As he came round to the front of the house, he 
 found sitting upon the door-step, with a valise at his side, 
 a tall man, who arose as he approached and extended his 
 hand. 
 
 " Nicholas Grundle, I believe," he said, advancing to 
 where the other had suddenly halted with that defensive 
 air with which he always met strangers. 
 
 "What business have you with me?" asked Grundle, 
 refusing the proffered hand, his lowering brows half con 
 cealing his penetrating look, which was rapidly scanning 
 his companion from head to foot. 
 
 " Do you never receive any calls except those upon busi 
 ness?" asked the other, with a light laugh, as he stroked 
 his moustache with a fair hand, on the linger of which 
 glittered in the sunlight a coiled serpent with ruby eyes. 
 
 "Have you any business with me?" persisted Grundle, 
 with an impatient fling of his head. " If so, come to it 
 at once." 
 
 "You are a very impatient man, I should say," replied 
 the stranger, with a smile and shrug of his shoulders. 
 " Perhaps you will not object to my lighting a cigar be 
 fore we proceed to business, if business indeed has brought 
 ne here? Will you take one?" extending his cigar-case, 
 as he arose and drew a match upon the jamb of the door. 
 
 " I never smoke ; I leave that to those who can afford 
 to waste their money." 
 
 " You look as if you did not take much stock in the 
 pleasures of this world," laughed the visitor, resuming 
 his seat, and puffing forth a cloud of smoke, which a 
 chance wind blew in Grundle's face. " I beg pardon ; 
 that impoliteness is due to the wind. Perhaps you do 
 not object to smelling a good cigar?" 
 
 The cool impudence of the stranger had the very effect
 
 WHO AND WHAT WAS HE? 77 
 
 he desired. It disconcerted the old man, and he stood 
 irresolute as to what course he should pursue to rid him 
 self of so bold and obstinate a visitor. Moreover, his 
 curiosity had now been excited as to the object of this 
 man's presence, and he found himself secretly wondering 
 what it was that had led him to this place. Besides, the 
 man was showing a disposition similar to his own, and 
 that rather attracted him so much so indeed that his first 
 anger at this intrusion upon his privacy was gradually 
 subsiding. 
 
 " You are wondering," resumed the stranger j again 
 stroking his moustache with the hand that bore the ser 
 pent ring, " what I, a man whom you never saw before, 
 have to do with you. Suppose I were to tell you that I 
 have it in my power to make a fortune for you that I 
 could enable you to rise from the poverty of these sur 
 roundings to a position of wealth ? If I could do this, 
 you would look upon me as a friend, would you not?" 
 
 " If you did it, I should," said Grundle, keeping back 
 all evidence of the intense curiosity the words just spoken 
 had aroused. 
 
 " Yes ; so would any one. And you are human, after 
 all ! Egad, I took you for a bear when you came around 
 the corner a moment ago !" 
 
 And he laughed, lightly stroking his moustache, with 
 the ring again in view. Whether purposely on the part 
 of the exhibitor or not, the ring attracted Nicholas Grun- 
 dle's attention. His eyes were now fixed upon it with a 
 questioning, puzzled look, as the hand of the man lay at 
 rest on his knee, the little head of the serpent poised over 
 his knuckle. 
 
 "Yes, it is an odd ring," said the man, slightly raising 
 his finger and regarding the jewel with admiration ; " but 
 it is the luckiest ring that was ever made. Would you 
 believe that this ring," holding it up so that the old man, 
 who had advanced a pace or two, could see it more dis 
 tinctly, " has brought luck to three generations of my 
 family ? But perhaps you are not superstitious and do 
 not believe in such things." 
 
 Yet, as he spoke, he saw the expression of awe that 
 was deepening on Nicholas Grundle's face.
 
 78 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 "I have heard of such things," sakl Grundle, still ex 
 amining the jewel closely, though he did not touch it, nor 
 the hand that wore it. 
 
 " I once refused nearly fifty thousand dollars for that 
 ring," resumed the other, puffing away at his cigar with 
 an indifferent air. 
 
 " Fifty thousand dollars !" exclaimed Grundle, under 
 his breath, his eyes fastening with a quick, covetous gaze 
 upon the jewel. 
 
 " But I did not take it. Yet would you believe it ? 
 the man who offered the sum came near getting the ring 
 for nothing." 
 
 "Tell me about it," said Grundle, his voice low and 
 agitated, and his eyes now fixed as immovably upon the 
 ring as if it were a veritable serpent, and had charmed 
 him with a deadly power of fascination. 
 
 " It's a short story, and hardly worth the telling, though 
 it may interest you. A certain British lord was a few 
 years ago a very intimate friend of mine, and of course in 
 time learned from me the history and secret power of this 
 ring. He squandered a great deal of his money in riotous 
 living, and lost' more by gambling and betting on horses. 
 It finally came to pass that at one of the Derbys he lost 
 the remainder of his fortune except about fifty thousand 
 dollars. The day after the Derby I received a note from 
 him to come to his chateau without delay. I did so, 
 and found him in great excitement. He had sent away 
 his servants and family to London, and was alone in his 
 house. Immediately upon my arrival he led me directly 
 to his library, and hardly had we entered the room before 
 he closed the door, and, locking it, threw the key out of 
 the window. Then he turned to me and, without parley 
 or explanation, demanded that I should sell him this ring 
 for a draft on the Bank of England for ten thousand 
 pounds. Of course I refused his offer, but before I could 
 give my reasons for so doing, he had seized me by the 
 throat, and in the next instant I felt the cold muzzle of a 
 pistol against my forehead. How it happened I cannot 
 tell, but as we struggled in each other's grasp, and I had 
 given up my life for he had thrown me to the floor, and 
 was holdinc; me fast beneath him the head of this
 
 WHO AND WHAT WAS HE? 78 
 
 caught the trigger of his weapon, exploding the charge, 
 and laying him a corpse at my feet, the ball penetrating 
 the exact point in his forehead where he had held the pis 
 tol to mine. I need not tell you that I easily made my 
 exit from the house through the window, and the next 
 day sailed for America. I learned, upon my arrival here, 
 that my lord had been buried as a suicide, who had taken 
 his life because of his financial troubles. It's a strange 
 story, isn't it ? Sounds like a romance, yet I can assure 
 you this ring has saved my life many times, in scenes al 
 most, as perilous as this I have just described. But, 
 pshaw !" with a nonchalant wave of his hand, " I must 
 stop talking about my ring, or I shall waste the whole 
 morning, and profit neither you nor myself. To come at 
 once t*> the object of my calling on you, would you be 
 willing to tell me how many acres of land you own around 
 here ?" 
 
 "About forty," replied Nicholas Grundle, after a slight 
 pause, in which he had made up his mind to talk further 
 with this man, for he was a lucky one and might bring 
 him fortune, as well as he had brought it to himself 
 with his wonderful ring. 
 
 " Would you sell ?" 
 
 " Yes ; if I should get my price." 
 
 " What is your price?" 
 
 "Five hundred dollars an acre," was the reply. 
 
 " Whew !" exclaimed the stranger, blowing out a huge 
 cloud of smoke, and waving it away with his hand. 
 " Isn't that a very high figure ?" 
 
 " It may be to the buyer, but not to the seller," said 
 Grundle, concealing the agitation which the naming of 
 such an exorbitant price had roused even in himself. 
 " Still I am not a man to higgle for the last dollar in a 
 bargain. Look around for yourself, and tell me what you 
 would give for it." 
 
 The man arose, and, stepping a few paces from the 
 house, began to take a survey of the little farm, directing 
 his gaze to the different fields and boundaries, as Nicholas 
 Grundle, trying to appear calmer, pointed them out, and 
 expatiated upon the various excellences of the soil, and 
 the beauty of the prospect and situation.
 
 80 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "You will not find a better farm of its size in this part 
 of the country," said Grundle, as the stranger turned on 
 his heel and went back to his seat. " It's worth all 
 I ask; but, for cash down, I might take less, though 
 not much." 
 
 As he was speaking, Ca?sar came trotting around the 
 corner of the house, and immediately following him was 
 Emily, her eyes cast down, and slowly swinging to and 
 fro her hood, which she held by its strings. Her hair 
 had fallen loosely about her flushed face, and her whole 
 manner was one of deep dejection. The stranger first 
 saw her, and quickly rose to his feet, and none the less 
 quickly came the look of admiration on his face as his 
 eyes took in the figure before him ; for she, too, had now 
 looked up, and, startled by the sight of the strange man, 
 had drawn back with a little cry of surprise, and, ca^ch- 
 ing with her hand one side of her disheveled hair, she 
 drew it back from her blooming cheek, and stood with 
 timid, irresolute attitude, half frightened, yet half assured, 
 for now she wa.s looking at her father. 
 
 " Go into the house, my child," he said, now turning in 
 the direction whence she had come. "This gentleman 
 and I have business together, and when it is done I will 
 come in to you. And here, Casar," speaking to the dog, 
 who was surveying the stranger with a low growl of 
 displeasure, "go with your mistress; we can spare you, 
 too." 
 
 But the animal, instead of obeying this command, began 
 to give even greater marks of his disapprobation of the 
 visitor's presence. He was now showing his teeth, and 
 had planted himself firmly in the man's front, and, half 
 crouched, was lashing his tail upon the ground, and evi 
 dently preparing to spring at the stranger, who, recoiling 
 from the beast, cried out to Nicholas Grundle to call him 
 away. The old man caught the dog by the neck, but Cjesar 
 paid no attention to this interruption of his design, and, 
 flinging off his master's hand, was about to rush upon the 
 other, when Emily's voice checked him, and in answer to 
 her second call he turned away, with a deeper growl than 
 ever, and disappeared with his mistress. 
 
 " Egad, that dog found little to fancy in me," said th:;
 
 WHO AND WHAT WAS HE? 81 
 
 man, trying to treat the affair lightly, though his face was 
 pale, and the perspiration stood out on his temples. " It 
 is strange that he should take such a sudden dislike to me 
 ior I love dogs, and dogs are always friendly to me." 
 
 "He always acts that way toward strangers," said 
 Grundle; "and, as I have taught him to do so, I am 
 to blame for his savage reception of you. It was lucky 
 for you that the girl was near, or he would have done 
 you harm. I never saw him so persistent before ; and 
 did you notice how he shook me off when I tried to 
 pull him away?" 
 
 " He is a vicious dog," said the stranger. " I would 
 not want to meet him on the road at night. The girl 
 Emily, I believe you call her seems to have him under 
 perfect" don trol. Your granddaughter, I presume?" 
 
 " That question has often been asked me," replied 
 Grundle, suddenly taking on his look and air of reserve, 
 " but I never answer it. It's enough for people to know 
 that she lives with me." 
 
 "Well, this is odd," resumed the man, lighting another 
 cigar. "A beautiful girl sixteen, I should judge liv 
 ing with a man of your appearance and age, and you not 
 willing to tell her relationship to you ! That is a mystery ! 
 And she such a beauty ! I drank it all in at a glance 
 slight form, golden, fluffy hair, and great, earnest blue 
 eyes !" 
 
 "She is very pretty," said Grundle, pleased at the ex 
 cited admiration of the man ; "and she is as good as she 
 is handsome." 
 
 " A rare combination in this world," rejoined the other, 
 with a trifle of seriousness in his voice. "Egad, I would 
 give a small fortune to know more of such a woman. 
 Perfectly beautiful and thoroughly good ! Well, if she 
 went with the farm, I would give you a thousand dollars 
 an acre for it. But I suppose her heart is already pledged 
 to some of these country bumpkins around here though, 
 unless I mistake your character, you have been shrewd 
 enough to prevent such a misfortune. Why, do you 
 know," rising, and laying the hand with the ring on the 
 old man's shoulder, and dropping his voice into a confi 
 dential whisper, " that, if she were a daughter or relation 
 
 F
 
 82 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 of mine, she should buy both fortune and position with 
 that face ?'" 
 
 "So she shall so she shall!" replied the other, with 
 more energy than he had yet displayed in his conversation. 
 " You have not read me wrongly. I have not got these 
 white hairs for nothing !" and a shrewd smile played over 
 his face as he spoke. 
 
 " Well," said the stranger, turning abruptly and taking 
 up his valise, " I have stayed here longer than I intended. 
 I must hurry on to the village to meet a party with whom 
 I have an engagement at noon. I will try and see you 
 again. Let me see !" taking out his memorandum-book 
 and making notes. "Nicholas Grundle, I believe farm 
 about forty acres five hundred dollars an acre or some 
 thing less, for all cash down." 
 
 " Can't you give me an answer now ?" asked Grundle, 
 betraying in his voice and face the anxiety he strove to 
 conceal. " I like off-hand bargains ; they save trouble 
 and time. If you say the word, I'll take four hundred 
 and seventy-five dollars an acre in cash." 
 
 "That's hardly as generous a concession as my parties 
 would expect. You see, my friend, I am looking around 
 for others. But," with a knowing shake of the head, and 
 laving his hand with a friendly gesture on the other's 
 shoulder, " I am a friend to the old and the young. 
 You and that beautiful girl shall find that I have worked 
 for your interests in this matter. All I ask is that this 
 visit and interview, and any others we may have, shall be 
 a profound secret between us. Y"ou understand ?" 
 
 " Perfectly !" said Grundle, his face beaming with an 
 eager, covetous smile. " I know the value of a silent 
 tongue." 
 
 " It's a fortune often to the possessor," laughed the 
 other. " "ttut, pardon me, would you object to taking 
 charge of this valise for me till I return from the village 
 say till after sundown ? for I don't expect to be through 
 my business there before that time. It's quite heavy, and 
 has sufficiently tested my endurance this morning." 
 
 "Of course I will take care of it," said Grundle, 
 receiving it from the other and almost dropping it upon 
 the ground, so unexpected was its heavy weight. " It is
 
 THE VALISE AND THE LOCKET. 83 
 
 heavy, as you say," holding it now with both hands, but 
 not without considerable exertion. 
 
 " Let me carry it into the house for you," offered the 
 man. " We will just set it behind the door. It will be 
 safe enough there." 
 
 " No ; I can manage it," quickly replied Grundle, 
 drawing back from the other's proffered assistance. 
 
 " Well, just as you say, though I would prefer not to 
 put you to so much trouble ; and now I bid you good- 
 morning !" raising his hat, and going rapidly down the 
 walk into the main road, along which he hurried, not 
 once looking back. 
 
 Nicholas Grundle set the valise down upon the ground 
 and gazed upon it with very curious eyes. It was the 
 heaviest and oddest valise he had ever seen. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE VALISE AND THE LOCKET. 
 
 IT was indeed an odd-looking valise that the stranger 
 had left in charge of Nicholas Grundle. No wonder 
 the old man examined it so curiously, and was so excited 
 as to what might be its contents. It was of medium size, 
 and evidently of thin sheet iron, with flat sides and square 
 corners, bound with dull steel bands. It had three locks 
 one a padlock, that secured a steel band which passed 
 entirely around the valise ; the other two were sunken 
 locks, in the upper rims of the valise, where the sides 
 joined when it was shut. 
 
 Nicholas Grundle, first assuring himself that the 
 stranger was out of sight, now knelt down and care 
 fully examined every inch of this curious affair. As he 
 at last, in his inspection, turned it over so that the bottom 
 was visible, he saw the three letters " J. L. A.," which had 
 every appearance of having been there a long time, and 
 the valise itself bore other evidences of age. Nor did the 
 mystery of the contents of this strange valise less excite
 
 84 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 the curiosity of the old man. He now found himself 
 wondering what they were, and longing to know them, 
 far beyond any adequate expression to his desire in 
 thoughts or words. This much, anyhow, he felt sure 
 of it was certainly made for valuables. No man would 
 carry around with him such a heavy and securely-locked 
 box, unless he wished to take great care of what was in 
 it. 
 
 What was in it? That was the question which Nich 
 olas Grundle asked himself many times as he shook the 
 valise from side to side, then turned it upside down and 
 stood it on either end, and still heard no sound within it 
 not the faintest thud or rattle. Could it be full of gold, 
 packed in so tightly it could not stir? This question 
 startled him, almost taking away his breath. A box full 
 of gold ; and if gold, how much was there here? How 
 quickly his eye took in the height, length and width of 
 the box ! Springing up, he weighed it again in his hands. 
 How marvelously rapid was his power of calculation ! It 
 must weigh some seventy-odd pounds. Full of gold ! 
 Why, such a box would hold full twenty thousand dol 
 lars, and twenty thousand dollars in gold would be 
 seventy-odd pounds in weight. Twenty thousand dol 
 lars ! His heart thrilled with a tumultuous beating. 
 With his hands tightly clasped, he leaned over the 
 valise, and his eyes feasted upon it with a devouring 
 ga/e. If it were only his his to see, to touch, to han 
 dle, to keep, to hide away in yonder cellar ! And what 
 a pleasure it was to be near so much money, even if it 
 were not his own ! How it stirred his blood, and quick 
 ened his pulse, and made his eyes sparkle ! Throughout 
 his shrunken frame there now glowed a new vigor, that 
 made him feel strong enough to carry this weight a whole 
 day, if such a task could only give him the ownership of 
 its precious reality. He might have knelt there much 
 longer, worshiping this treasure-box, had not Emily 
 opened the door and called to him : 
 
 " Father, what is it ? Shall I come out and help you 
 carry it?" 
 
 Banishing all evidence of excitement in his face, he 
 quickly rose to his feet, and lifted the valise as lightly as
 
 THE VALISE AND THE LOCKET. 85 
 
 if it had been an ordinary burden, and carried it into 
 the house. He placed it in a corner near the closed 
 door, and threw a strip of old carpet, which had been 
 doing the service of a mat, over it. Then he turned to 
 the girl, and said : 
 
 " It's only a traveling-bag left in our care for a little 
 while by that gentleman you saw talking to me." Then, 
 affecting surprise at the sorrow on her face, and the eyes 
 which still bore the traces of tears, he continued : " What ! 
 my child has been crying ? Come let us sit down," kiss 
 ing her in his old tender way. " Tell your father what 
 has grieved you !" 
 
 He led her to the stool beside his chair, and she sank 
 into it with a little burst of tears, which she tried to hide 
 with hcV hands clasped upon her face. He hesitated a 
 moment before seating himself, turned warily around, and 
 shot a sharp glance toward the corner where the strong 
 box was. Then he crossed the room again, and hung his 
 hat on a peg in the wall, over the valise; and, as he came 
 and went, his eyes seemed loth to look anywhere else, save 
 at that corner with the treasure, which he was sure was 
 burning with a golden glow beneath the carpet covering. 
 Now trying, though with little success, to banish for the 
 moment all thought of that pile of gold, and to keep his 
 eyes from seeking that corner, he took her hand in his, 
 and patted it in silence; and this token of his affection 
 for she remembered how often he had patted her hand as 
 he looked down at her, with his face all aglow with love 
 for her made her only cry the more, laying her head 
 upon his knees, around which she threw her arms, cling 
 ing so closely to him now; for who else, her sad heart 
 asked, cared for her now save this dear old father ? 
 
 "Poor child!" he murmured, stroking her hair. "I 
 know what you would tell me. You have seen him this 
 morning, and he has wounded your sensitive heart. There, 
 don't cry ! He is not worth crying for. I knew he would 
 soon show how little real love he has for you. Boys' 
 loves, like their kites, never sail long in the same di 
 rection." 
 
 " Oh, father, he does not care for me any more ! He 
 has gone away angry ; I shall never see him again !"
 
 86 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 This slie Availed out in a broken, smothered voice, her 
 face still buried on his knee. He waited a while until she 
 grew a trifle calmer, and strange it seemed to him that, 
 while he waited, his eyes would glance behind him at the 
 corner where the valise was. Once he thought it stirred. 
 This suggestion startled him, and made his heart give 
 a great thump. He cast a half-frightened, keener look 
 over his shoulder. No, it had not moved. It was only 
 one corner of the carpet that had fallen away from it. 
 He could not help noticing how sharply the dog was 
 watching this corner, stretched at full length in front of 
 the valise, his head resting between his paws. How odd, 
 it struck him, was the fascination this corner had for both 
 himself and Ccesar ! He turned again to the girl, whose 
 grief had subsided into a gentle sobbing, broken now and 
 then with a sigh. 
 
 "Never mind, child," he said, soothingly; "you are 
 not to blame for what has happened, and that ought to be 
 a great consolation to you. You only told him what your 
 father had a right to ask you to say to him, and he was 
 angry with you for it angry because you obeyed your 
 poor old father, who has sacrificed his whole life for you. 
 He ought to have loved you the more, for true love al 
 ways grows the stronger when it discovers some new qual 
 ity of good in the object it adores. What nobler quality 
 than obedience can a child show forth?" 
 
 "Do you think he will ever love me. again?" she asked, 
 turning up now, for the first time, her despairing, tearful 
 face to him. 
 
 "Yes, perhaps," he answered, with an odd smile, "if 
 you will let him see that you do not care so much for him 
 as he imagines. A man is always the more eager to love 
 when the task of conquest is made the harder for him." 
 
 " I do not know what you mean," she said, her face, as 
 he was speaking, growing more and more puz/led, and 
 yet not so much so as to smother the gleam of hope that 
 was struggling to maintain itself in her eyes. 
 
 " Then I will explain to you. But first I must know 
 a little more about this young man, and your promises 
 and pledges to him. You told me, this morning, how 
 and where you met him without my knowledge. I for-
 
 THE VALISE AND THE LOCKET. 87 
 
 give you that deception, child; for I am sure it was not of 
 your inclination, suggestion or invention. What I want 
 now to know is, has he given you any token of his so- 
 called love, any little keepsake, any " 
 
 He stopped short, for he .saw her hand suddenly seek, 
 with a startled motion, her bosom, and he knew that 
 there was hidden the very thing he sought to discover. 
 She hesitated, but only an instant; then, with a diffidence 
 that was as charming as the deep blush of embarrassment 
 that suffused her cheeks and caused hqr head to droop, she 
 slowly drew forth a little golden locket, and placed it 
 without a word only a sigh in his outstretched hand. 
 
 "Is this all he has given you?" he asked, turning over 
 the locket, and examining it so closely as to detect their 
 initials^ interwoven across the faces of two impinging 
 hearts. 
 
 " That is all," she faintly articulated, still abashed, her 
 head drooping and her fingers nervously interlacing each 
 other. 
 
 " When did he give you this ?" 
 
 " Day before yesterday," she faltered out, with a fresh 
 outburst of tears, for this question too fully suggested 
 how brief a time had elapsed between the gift and what 
 had taken place this morning at the willow copse. 
 
 "So, two days after giving you this very touching 
 emblem of his affection," went on the old man, with no 
 little sarcasm in his voice, "he acts as if he had no 
 love for you. Ah, my child, he is very far from being 
 worthy of you. I have a mind to throw this thing into 
 the fire," he said, making a motion as if to do so, and as 
 suddenly drawing back his arm. " No ; I will not. It 
 shall serve a better purpose," as if the plan had suddenly 
 occurred to him : "you shall send it back to him. It is 
 not right that you should keep it longer, since he has 
 treated you so. Yes, yes ! we must send it back to him. 
 It has now no value to you, and he can sell it for old 
 gold, or keep it to remind himself that he was unjust 
 and cruel to you, my dear child." 
 
 She knew not how to answer him, but he readily com 
 prehended the perplexity and distress which had come to 
 her face. His decision that she must send back the locket
 
 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 had made her suddenly conscious how much she valued 
 it how in it were centered so many happy thoughts, so 
 many sweet memories, that to part with it would be to 
 part with even the remnant of happiness that its possessor 
 had saved from the wreck of the morning. 
 
 " Please, dear father, let me keep it a little while ?" she 
 asked, making the request with evident effort, for she did 
 not raise her eyes, but, putting her hands with a pleading 
 gesture upon his arm, her averted face had slowly fallen 
 upon his knee. 
 
 "Poor, innocent child!" he said, softly resting his hand 
 upon her head. " So you want to keep this locket to 
 always remind you how true you were to him, and how 
 little real love he had for you ? What pleasure could you 
 have in remembering anything so sad ?" 
 
 She only answered him as before. " Please let me keep 
 it a little while, only a few days," was all she said. 
 
 He made no reply. Slowly closing his fingers upon the 
 locket, he was the next instant plunged in deep thought, 
 as though he were solving a question of gravest issue. 
 Deeper grew the wrinkles on his face, stronger became the 
 lines on his forehead, and lower over his eyes drooped his 
 heavy brows, until his pupils looked like black spots peep 
 ing out beneath little rifts of snow. While he thought 
 on, his eyes more than once sought the corner where the 
 strong box lay, covered, in front, by the dog, who still kept 
 his silent watch upon it. As he found his gaze riveted upon 
 this box, he began to acknowledge to himself that it by 
 some means had worked a spell upon him. He could not 
 keep his eyes away from it, any more than could Csesar. 
 What was the object of its strange construction ? and what 
 did it contain ? were crowding out all other thoughts from 
 his mind almost this very one of the disposition of the 
 locket, which he was now trying to decide. If he only 
 knew what was in that valise ! It had three locks. Were 
 they the simple locks that were usually found on trav 
 eling-bags, or were they as strange and complex as the 
 bag itself? Could they be picked? He had picked 
 many locks when a boy. He remembered now, with a 
 sudden transport of joy, that smoothed out the wrinkles 
 and furrows, how deftly he had worked with a bent piece
 
 THE VALISE AND THE LOCKET. 89 
 
 of wire on the locks of his mother's trunks in the old 
 garret of his boyhood, where he had spent many a mys 
 terious hour. There was some wire in the box in the 
 drawer yonder. Now, if he were only alone a little while 
 with that valise ! But the girl how to dispose of her in 
 the mean time ? To this question the valise seemed to 
 whisper back the answer: Send her away. Send her 
 away ! Where ? And the locket now answered as quickly 
 as the valise had done: Send her with me. These words, 
 leaping unbidden into his consciousness, were a revelation 
 to him. He opened his hand slowly, and the locket, as if 
 with a subtle influence, carried him on in a train of rea 
 soning which could have but one result. For what element 
 of danger was there in his plan, which seemed to adjust 
 itself 'db harmoniously to the wishes he had in view? 
 Would not the young man's mother prove an invaluable 
 aid to him in impressing upon this child how hopeless it 
 was for her to think of regaining her son's love ? Would 
 she not, with a woman's quick wit, poison this child 
 against her son ? Certainly she would, for it was only 
 yesterday morning that a woman, passing along the road 
 in front of the cottage, had put in his hands a letter from 
 this young man's mother, in which she had pleaded with 
 him, Nicholas Grundle, to do all he could to break off 
 their intercourse and put an end to their love. 
 
 " My child, did you ever see Mrs. Gagger ?" asked the 
 old man, turning again to Emily, as she sat quietly and de 
 jectedly at his side, her hope of retaining the locket grow 
 ing fainter and fainter during his long silence. 
 
 " No, I never saw her," the name forcing a faint sigh 
 from her lips. 
 
 " Well, you shall see her this morning," he said, slowly 
 rising from his chair and going to a chest of drawers, out 
 of which he took a piece of white paper, and proceeded to 
 wrap the locket in it. "Here, my child, hide this in 
 your pocket. Now put on your hood and throw that 
 shawl about you. I have an errand for yon.'' 
 
 She did as he had bidden her, and yet it was evident, from 
 the simple look of wonder on her face, that' she had no 
 idea of what this errand might be, about which he was in 
 such haste. He took her hand in his and led her to the
 
 90 'AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 back door, which he opened, and then placed her at his 
 side upon the threshold. He raised his hand and pointed 
 across the distant fields, bathed in the crisp, clear air of 
 the late autumnal day. 
 
 " Do you see, on yonder hill, a white house over which 
 the sun shines brightly ?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes; that is where Mrs. Gagger lives." 
 
 As she answered him, her heart fluttered with a faint 
 apprehension of joy, yet not without distrust. Could it be 
 possible her father was going to send her there a place 
 she had longed to visit these many days? But what, she 
 asked herself, despite the self-approving sense of beauty 
 that stole across her mind, if she should see his mother, 
 and that great lady should not be pleased with her! What 
 hope would there be left her of winning back him who 
 had gone away in anger, and to whom his mother would 
 be far dearer than she herself was now? The old man 
 felt how her hand trembled in his, and he as quickly 
 divined the reason, although its discovery was far from 
 apparent in his next question. How well he knew this 
 child ! And why not ? Was she not the result of his 
 own exclusive training and influence? 
 
 "You will not be afraid to go and see her for me, and 
 carry her a message?" 
 
 "Why should I be afraid of her?" she asked, with sud 
 den earnestness, noticing the serious look upon his face 
 while he was putting this question. 
 
 "No reason for it, my child, that I know of, except that 
 it will be the first time you ever met a stranger without 
 me by your side. So you are willing to go alone?" 
 
 "Yes, with Cresar," glancing back at the dog, which 
 still lay motionless in front of the valise. 
 
 " Cresar shall go with you. No harm can come to you 
 with him. Now listen, my child, for you must repeat, as 
 nearly as you can, my very words to Mrs. Gagger. When 
 you meet her, you must courtesy, and say, 'Good-morning, 
 madam,' and then go on this way, without waiting for her 
 to speak : ' Mrs. Gagger, my father has sent me to return 
 this locket' placing the locket in her hands as you say 
 the words. ' He does not wish me to keep it, under the 
 circumstances, and asks you to give it back to your son.'
 
 THE VALISE AND THE LOCKET. 91 
 
 Having said this, you must courtesy again, say 'Good- 
 morning, madam/ and come away without another word. 
 Can you remember this ? Let me see if you can. Repeat 
 what I have said." 
 
 She did so in a trembling voice, but with so many mis 
 takes that he reproved her several times as he corrected 
 them. 
 
 " I see you do not understand why I wish you to do 
 this," he said, shaking his head, in a mysterious way ; 
 " but this much I will tell you that the young man, if 
 he love you at all, will love you all the more for it. It 
 will tell him that you do not hold yourself so cheaply as 
 he thinks, and that, if he wants your love, he must win 
 it, not demand it. Trust your father, my child. You 
 have oiily once deceived me, and you already see the bad 
 result. Obey me now, and' you may win back the love 
 you have certainly lost. Not my love for that you have, 
 and always shall have but this other love, to gain which 
 you have both deceived and disobeyed me." 
 
 She could not understand his reasoning. She did not 
 even try, for he seemed to her to speak in riddles. But 
 she knew, from the determination of his face, that she 
 must obey him ; and, as he ceased speaking, a strange 
 passiveness came over her a passiveness not of her own 
 bidding or desire, but the result of some unseen power 
 which seemed to work from without her. 
 
 With a covert smile, he saw the look of resignation 
 and obedience that had come so unwillingly to her face ; 
 but as quickly changing his smile into a wondrously merry 
 laugh, he said, patting her on the head, and then rubbing 
 his hands together in continued glee : 
 
 "Aha, my child! we will now manage it all for the 
 best. You shall soon see how right your father is. Come 
 lose no time; and you had better go by the fields. The 
 public road is not the place for my dear child to travel. 
 Here, Caesar," calling to the dog, "come, and go with 
 your mistress." 
 
 The dog paid not the slightest heed to this summons. 
 He did not raise his head, nor even move it ever so 
 slightly in the direction of the old man's voice. As if 
 he had indeed turned to stone, he still lay at full length
 
 92 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 in front of the valise, as motionless as that article itself. 
 Only in his wide-open gleaming eyes was there any sign of 
 life. Nicholas Grundle called again, more sharply than 
 before, and seeing the animal still paid no heed to him, he 
 burst into a passion of threatening words. Then, seizing 
 his cane and furiously shaking it, he started toward the 
 dog. Emily anticipated his intentions. She sprang 
 swiftly past him, and catching Ca?sar by the collar, cov 
 ered him with her protecting form. 
 
 " Do not strike him !" she said, in a voice whose tone 
 of warning made him suddenly halt; and, if he had 
 needed further warning to control himself, he saw it 
 now in the attitude of the dog, who had sprung from 
 behind his mistress, and, but for her restraining hand 
 upon his collar, would have fastened his fangs in his 
 adversary. 
 
 "What ails the brute?" muttered Grundle, sidling 
 away. " Is he going mad ? I have a mind to shoot 
 him !" 
 
 " No, no ; he is not to blame !" she answered quick 
 ly, patting Ctesar so soothingly that he turned and 
 licked her hand. "There was something about that 
 strange man he did not like. I saw that from the mo 
 ment he laid eyes on him. Because he knows that this 
 valise belongs to the man for he must have seen it on 
 the step beside him is the reason he has been watching 
 it so closely. Coesar is such a kinnving dog, father. Don't 
 you remember how often he has warned us against people 
 we did not suspect?" 
 
 " Yes ; that may be all true," he replied, with a doubt 
 ful shake of the head. " But don't you see how he has 
 turned against me to-day? He licks your hand, but 
 would bite mine as quickly, if he had a chance." 
 
 " You shall see," said she, " how wrong you are. 
 Here, Coesar, come and kiss father's hand as you do 
 mine." 
 
 She led him to where her parent stood. Then, tak 
 ing her father's hand in hers, she extended it to the dog, 
 and gently commanded him to kiss it, which he did, 
 though not without every evidence of reluctance in his 
 manner.
 
 THE VALISE AND THE LOCKET. 93 
 
 " I told you he was not liking me over-much," muttered 
 the old man. " I wonder what he means by it ? We 
 have, until this day, been fast friends." 
 
 " I know he means you no harm, father. I can see he 
 is angry, but not with you or me. He has seen something 
 in that stranger which has made him act in this way. 
 Perhaps he is trying to warn us against him." 
 
 "My child,' 3 he replied, with a little smile of derision, 
 "you believe that dog knows everything; that he sees 
 what we see, and reasons as we reason, and can do all we 
 do in the way of intelligence except talk; and now you 
 are ready to believe that he can read a man's character bet 
 ter than your old father can. Tut, tut, my child ! Men 
 are men, and dogs are dogs. There! we will talk no more 
 of such 1 nonsense as the dog's knowing more than we do. 
 Come, hurry away on your errand, and let me see how 
 soon you can dispatch such a trifle of business. Be care 
 ful " as she was about to leave the threshold, from which 
 Csesar had already bounded, in obedience to a wave of her 
 hand " not a word more must you say than what I have 
 told you. Remember our motto : ' The silent tongue is 
 always safe.' " 
 
 She nodded her head with a look of comprehension, and, 
 bidding him good-bye, went down the path that led to the 
 brook. Along this stream she bent her steps. Never be 
 fore had the waters for her so dull a sparkle, or so sad a 
 murmur ; and she, with her hand clasping the locket, tried 
 to think that taking it back to Volney's mother was all 
 for the best ; yet she could not help crying every time 
 she looked up and saw the house where he had lived 
 shining so brightly in the sun. 
 
 As for Nicholas Grundle, he seemed, from the moment 
 the girl had passed out of sight, inspired with wonderful 
 activity. His movements became as quick and agile as a 
 boy's. Shutting the door with a slam, he turned the key 
 in the lock. Then, hurrying from casement to casement, 
 he drew every curtain closely, so that no person from with 
 out could look through the windows. The front door he 
 barred, dropping, with nervous haste, its thick wooden bar 
 into the iron clamps that stood out from either jamb. 
 Having thus assured his immunity from surprise, he ran
 
 94 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 on tip-toe to the chest of drawers. Unlocking the uppei 
 compartment of this, he snatched out a coil of wire, and 
 twisted' .off a piece as readily as if it had been a silken 
 strand. With this piece of wire in his hand, he darted 
 over to the valise. In another instant he had placed it 
 upon the deal table, standing by the window, which, with 
 its muslin curtain slightly drawn, commanded a view of 
 the road that led from the village. Here, securely hidden 
 from outside view, he could work at the valise, and watcli 
 the road as well. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 WHAT WAS SAID TO PAT DOYLE. 
 
 wife of Silas Gagger stood at the farm-house win- 
 _L dow, her hands upon its ledge, gazing with a dazed 
 look down the lane, where her husband had doggedly 
 passed out of sight ; she had seen him stop for an instant, 
 and turning around angrily, shake his cane in the direc 
 tion of the home he had left. Then, with a shrug of the 
 shoulders, he had disappeared, with the same determined 
 stride, behind the maple-bushes that skirted the road 
 leading to the village. It was useless for her to ask her 
 self why he had left his home so unceremoniously. Even 
 if her mind were now the clearest, she could not find any 
 reason for this odd and unexpected departure, nor had he 
 given the slightest explanation of it. All she knew about 
 his going was this: almost as soon as her son had gone 
 from the house, her husband had reappeared in this room,, 
 where the scarcely tasted breakfast still remained upon the 
 table; he threw his valise upon the floor with a thud and 
 an oath that startled her, as she suddenly raised her head 
 from the table where she had been weeping, and saw his 
 cold, keen eyes fastened upon her. 
 
 " I am going away," he had said. " I may be back in 
 a month, or a year, or never ; and I guess it makes mighty 
 little difference to you which." 
 
 Then putting on his hat and coat, and seizing his cane
 
 WHAT WAS SAID TO PAT DOYLE. 95 
 
 and valise, he had stalked out of the door without another 
 word, only casting back at her a contemptuous look. 
 Thus he had left her, and now she had seen him disap 
 pear from her sight. Overcome by an impulse she could 
 not resist, despite his treatment of her, she had rushed to 
 the door, and would have called to him to return had not 
 Aziel caught her arm and gently led her back to a seat by 
 the fireplace. 
 
 '' There, there, poor dear !" said Aziel, leaning over 
 her and gently stroking her head ; " calm yourself. I 
 heard it all. Let him go, if he chooses. You could not 
 influence him against his will. It's only a freak of his 
 passion, I dare say, and he may change his mind the next 
 hour, and return to us too soon for our comfort. He 
 knows* too well how miserable he can make us by staying 
 here. See !" glancing out of the window, and pointing 
 with a little gesture of triumph in the direction of the 
 barn, where Gagger had suddenly reappeared, "he has 
 come back to the barn, after all his talk. If he intended 
 to stay away the length of time he threatened, he would 
 not take his horse and wagon." 
 
 " True, true !" said the woman with a sigh, yet doubt 
 fully shaking her head, as she slowly put out her hand 
 and pressed Aziel's with a firm grasp, as it lay upon the 
 arm of her chair ; " but why should he go away at all ? 
 Can it be possible," she asked, with a little shudder, 
 " that he met Seth last night, or has any suspicions of who 
 was here with us ? It may be so though I pray Heaven 
 not arid his leaving us so suddenly may have some con 
 nection with last night's doings. You know he did not 
 believe the man was your brother. I am afraid he has 
 some clue, which he is going away to follow out ; for it 
 must be something strangely unusual that for the first 
 time in five years takes him away even for a day from 
 his home." 
 
 " Well," replied Aziel, assuming a confidence in voice 
 and manner she by no means felt, " suppose he has suspi 
 cions, what are they worth unless he can confirm them ? 
 I'll warrant you the man who was here last night will be 
 more than a match for him " 
 
 " Yes, and for us, too," interrupted the listener, with
 
 96 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 a shudder at the mention of this other man. " Aziel," 
 she went on, in a voice half articulate, which gave greater 
 expression to her frightened face, "you cannot tell how I 
 fear Seth Slacle. Nothing will be too cruel for him to do. 
 1 lay awake all night trying to banish him from my 
 thoughts and get his image out of my eyes. Well " 
 lowering her voice "thank Heaven, there is one sure 
 escape from him. Do not be shocked when I tell you 
 that sooner than be his wife again I shall take mv own 
 life !" 
 
 The white lips closed firmly as a look of stony deter 
 mination settled on her face. 
 
 " Fudge ! fudge !" rejoined the other cheerily, and play 
 fully patting the shoulder of her companion. " What a 
 foolish woman you are, to let such silly ideas come into 
 your head ! Of course he cannot make you become his wife 
 again. Are you not married to Mr. Gagger? Certainly 
 two men cannot have the same wife. It's against the law ; 
 and, if you have the law on your side, why need you 
 fear Seth Slade or what he may try to do ? So put your 
 mind to rest on that point. To make sure that I am right 
 and I feel sure I am I shall go down to Rader Craft's 
 this very day, and get the law, word for word, on the 
 whole subject. Rader Craft is too much of a gentleman 
 to ask me why I want the information." 
 
 " What if you should find that the law is exactly what 
 he read to me last evening from that slip of paper, and 
 which but a little while ago you repeated better than I, 
 as we tried to recall it to mind?" 
 
 " Well," replied Aziel, with a readiness that brought 
 a rift of encouragement across the face that was earnestly 
 bent on hers, " if it be the law, Rader Craft shall show us 
 how to get justice, in spite of the law " 
 
 This conversation was interrupted by the sound of a 
 man's heavy and shuffling tread on the kitchen floor. 
 The women listened, and despite the seriousness of their 
 thoughts, they could but smile as they heard this soliloquy 
 from Pat Doyle, the man-servant about the farm : 
 
 "Bedad, Pat Doyle, it's a lively breakfast afore ye an 
 empty table, wid a knife and fork, and a plate as smooth 
 as the back of a duck. It's not much that Misthress
 
 WHAT WAS SAID TO PAT DOYLE. 97 
 
 Loyd is lookin' afther yer illigant appetite this morn- 
 in'." 
 
 Reassuring her companion that either the law or Rader 
 Craft would be on their side, and in either case they were 
 safe, and urging her to compose herself and take fresh 
 hope, Aziel seized the plate of meat and potatoes, and 
 hastened into the kitchen, and apologized to Pat without 
 delay, who, with a woeful visage, was already seated at his 
 empty table. 
 
 " You must excuse me, Pat," she said, placing the 
 dishes before him, which he instantly attacked, transfer 
 ring to his plate a large portion of their contents, " but I 
 have been so busy this morning, getting Master A'olney 
 ready to go away, that your breakfast is rather late." 
 
 "X^> indade, it is late; but, faix, I'll ate it all the 
 fasther to make up for the lost toime. Bedad, I wor 
 thinkin' I wud git my breakfast for dinner, so I wor. 
 So Masther Volney has gone, has he ? Good luck to 
 him !" stopping to swallow a huge gulp of coffee, which 
 made the bottom of the cup visible. "And otild Gagger's 
 going too? May the divil fly away wid him ! It's not 
 lovin' him much I am this long time past. Troth, as 
 I wor talkin' to him in the barn beyant, I'd given a 
 week's wages to lather him, bad 'cess to him ! Have ye 
 another wee dhrop of the coffee, Misthress Loyd '?" 
 
 " Indeed I have, Pat," rejoined Aziel, quickly filling 
 his cup, and then preparing to fry him some eggs and 
 ham, his favorite dish, but not before she had loaded his 
 table with all she had brought from the other room, and 
 closed the door softly after her, so that they were now 
 alone. 
 
 " Is it iggs an' ham yer goin' to give me?" asked Pat, 
 poising his loaded fork and knife halfway between his 
 plate and his mouth, and eying her preparations with as 
 tonished delight. "Is it killin' me wid kindness you'd 
 be afther doin' this mornin', Misthress Loyd?" 
 
 " You have waited so long for your breakfast, I am de 
 termined you shall have a good one for your patience," 
 replied Aziel, putting the skillet, in which she had laid 
 a generous slice of ham, upon the fire. " So Mr. Gagger 
 told you he was going away, did he ?" she asked, iu an 
 y G
 
 98 AS IT MA Y NAPPES. 
 
 indifferent voice, as if she were merely keeping up the 
 conversation. 
 
 " Include he did, Misthrcss Loyrl ; an' sich a tattherin' 
 rage he wor in ! Shure, I wor wishin' nieself up wid de 
 weathercock 011 the roof o' the barn while he wor talk- 
 in' to me." 
 
 And Pat, heaving a great sigh of relief, as if he had jnst 
 escaped some imminent danger to his life, resumed with 
 renewed vigor his onslaught upon the food before him. 
 
 " Pray what was he angry with you about ?" questioned 
 Aziel, with careless interest, as she turned over the slice 
 of ham and replaced the skillet in position. 
 
 " Och, the divil himself couldn't answer that connun- 
 dhrum, Misthress Loyd ! But, faix, you wud have laughed 
 to say him a-sthampiu', an' a-swearin', an' a-blackguarain' 
 me ! Arrah, I thought the flure wud a-come down atwixt 
 us the owld faggot !" 
 
 " Why, Pat, that was a very strange way for him to 
 act. Certainly he had no fault to find with you or your 
 work. I am sure he will never get another man to serve 
 him better than you have done, or half so well. What 
 did he say ? I cannot understand such conduct." 
 
 "Did ye iver lick a dog first, and tell him to mind ye 
 afterward?" asked Pat, looking up at her, with a twin 
 kle in his eye, as she placed the ham on his plate. "Faix, 
 that's "what he wor doin' to me, the owld dcsaiver goin' 
 on wid his goostherumfoodle like he wor mad." 
 
 "So, then, he wasn't angry with you, after all?" said 
 Aziel, going back to the stove with the skillet, into which 
 she speedily broke several eggs, and set them sizzling upon 
 the lire. 
 
 "An' is it three iggs ycr cookin' for me?" exclaimed 
 Pat. " Bedad, it's a pig or a hen I'll be afore I lave this 
 table if ye kape on wid yer ginerous hand, Misthress Loyd ! 
 It's too kind to me ye are." 
 
 " Xot at all, Pat not at all," she replied, shaking her 
 head at him, with a merry smile. "You deserve just as 
 good a breakfast as I can get you. There !" putting the 
 eggs alongside the ham, which was fast disappearing; "is 
 there anything else you would like?" 
 
 " Thank you kindly, Misthress Loyd. God save ye,
 
 WHAT WAS SAID TO PAT DOYLE. 99 
 
 ma'am ! Barrin' the sarvin' of you, there's nothin' wantin' 
 this mornin' to raise the cockles o' me heart," he replied, 
 casting at her a half-timid, significant look ; and then, 
 as if he had said something he did not intend to say, 
 and might regret, he flushed and coughed violently, and 
 began vigorously to sprinkle his eggs with pepper and 
 salt. 
 
 " Pat, do you know of any way you could serve me ?" 
 she asked, assuming a more confidential tone, and looking 
 at him with an earnest and winning smile that would have 
 dispelled all thoughts of secrecy in a heart far more deceit 
 ful than his. 
 
 He looked at her for just one instant with hesitancy 
 and doubt upon his face, and then, as quickly dismissing 
 both, lie laid down his knife and fork. Leaning toward 
 her, with his great black eyes full of mystery, he asked, 
 in a mysterious whisper, glancing toward the door of the 
 other room, 
 
 " Whisht! is the lady in the room beyant? She must 
 not hear me, for it consarns her. Heaven save her kind 
 ly !" with a reverent look upward. 
 
 Aziel stepped softly across the floor, looked through the 
 keyhole, and came back to him with her finger on her 
 lips. 
 
 " She is sitting by the farther window," she whisper 
 ed. "She cannot hear you if you speak softly. Go on, 
 now, and tell me quickly what you know that concerns 
 her." 
 
 " It's moighty quick I'll out wid it, then. Aisy now, 
 an' I'll tell ye how it all wor. The owld sthrap came out 
 to the barn a while ago wid his walise, an' he flung it 
 agin -the back o' me, while I wor sittin' on the flnre 
 a-cleanin' the tibakky out o' me pipe. 'Get up there, ye 
 loafer!' says he; an' thin, while I wor holdin' on to me 
 back, afeared it wor gone in- two intirely for the blow of 
 him, he began to curse an' to swear at me, till I thought 
 the divil himself would come up out of the flure an' ex 
 change places wid him. ' I'll discharge you when I come 
 back,' says he. 'Discharge me, if ye loikes,' says I, 'but 
 don't be afther dischargin' that walise at me ag'in. It's 
 not playiu' base-ball I am so early in the mornin'.' Wid
 
 100 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 that, all of a suddint he sthopped cursin', an' says he, 
 laugh in', wid the grin o' the divil on him, ' Pat, it's only 
 trying your pluck I am. Listen ! I am goin' away for a 
 month, an' I lave the house an' the wimmin' in your 
 care.' 'Bliss their purty faces!' says I; 'it's not sleepin' 
 I'll be, day nor night, for the care o' them angels, while 
 you're gone.' Thin says he, comin' close up to me, an' 
 lay in' the dhirty hand o' him on me honest shoulder, 
 ' Pat/ says he an' the smile o' him was loiUe the divil's 
 own face wid the colic ( watch the house day an' night,' 
 says he, 'an' if ye notice any stranger comin' about the 
 house while I'm gone, I'll give ye tin dollars, whin I 
 come back, if ye find out who he is, an' who he comes to 
 see.' An' wid that he puts, by the same token, a half- 
 dollar in me hand, an' givin' a murdherous wink wid the 
 two Imd eyes of him, he whispered, 'An', Pat, kape all 
 this a sacret 'twixt you an' me.' ' Av coorse,' says I. An' 
 thin says he, wid a whisper on him that wud tear out the 
 ear o' ye, ' Pat, did ye see any strange man about the 
 house last aveuin 1 ?' ' No,' says I; for the lie lepped in 
 me throat afore I could swallo\v it, an' it's not him I'd be 
 tellin', anyhow, what I see. Xo; may the divil cut the 
 tongue out o' me if iver I tell Mr. Silas Gagger an' 
 that's his name in full, I belave what me eyes see or me 
 ears hear. An' that, barrin' a few threatenin' words, Mis- 
 thress Loyd, is all what passed atwixt us in the barn be- 
 yant ; for, mind your beautiful eyes, I wor not stay in' 
 long wid him afther he axed me that question. It wor 
 hcarin' the breakfast bell I wor doin' immadiately 
 Heaven forgive me the desalt! an' afore the owld stack 
 of rags cud pledge me anither word I wor out o' the barn 
 and a-runnin' toward the house loike a pig wid his nose 
 in the air !" 
 
 Having finished his narration, he shook his head know 
 ingly, and saying, " It's Pat Doyle that's a match for the 
 divil an' his angels, providin' he's awake whin they call 
 on him," he took up his knife and fork, and began to eat 
 again, with a freshened appetite. 
 
 "Did you see any strange man around here last night?" 
 asked the woman, with a feigned look of surprise; for, 
 before she \yould at ail commit herself with him, she
 
 WHAT WAS SAW TO PAT DOYLE. 101 
 
 must first learn just how much or how little he knew of 
 the occurrence of the previous night. 
 
 "Did I see him?" rejoined Pat, with a quizzical ex 
 pression on his broad face. "Shure, is it makin' fun o' 
 me ye are, Misthress Loyd?" And then suddenly drop 
 ping his voice to a mournful cadence, while his face as 
 quickly grew serious, he half whispered: " ludude, Mis 
 thress Loyd, it's the God's thruth I'm tellin' ye now. Oh, 
 wirra ! wirra!" throwing up his hands in genuine dismay, 
 "it's not sleepin' all night I am for the sight o' that man. 
 But it was watch in' him all the time I wor. Bluranagcs! 
 I kept me two eyes on him, through the windy, all the 
 while. Oh, be me sowl, had I caught sight o' him layiii' a 
 heavy hand on ye, or the lady bevant, it's into the room 
 I'd a-lnpped loike a tiger, and laid him low wid a blow o' 
 me fist ! Shure, it's bad luck that's comin' to the house at 
 last !" he went on, with a solemn shake of his head, and 
 no longer heeding his food. "It's always dhramiu' o' 
 silver I've been this last week, and that dhrame niver 
 fails of th rouble, ye know ; an', more's the token, it's not 
 three sprigs of sparemint I've seen in a dhrame since Bar 
 ney Rooney's wake, a year ago last night 
 
 "Hark!" she interrupted, suddenly, laying her hand 
 with a nervous grasp upon his arm; "that is his voice. 
 I hear him calling you. Make haste run ! or he will 
 suspect us !" 
 
 " Murdther, murdther! Howly Virgin presarve me!" 
 he cried, jumping up with a pale and affrighted face, and 
 trembling all over with this strange outburst of fear. 
 " Heaven save me kindly ! Was it indade his voice ye 
 heard ?" 
 
 " Yes ; of course it was. There it is again ! I do not 
 see how you can mistake it !" 
 
 In her eagerness she caught hold of his shoulder to 
 urge him toward the door. He seized her hands in his 
 own stronger grip, and it startled her to feel how cold his 
 fingers were. Then he sank into his chair, and great 
 beads of perspiration began to start out upon his white 
 forehead and whiter temples. 
 
 " Pat, Pat !" she said, alarmed, and trying to shake him 
 out of the deathly stupor into which he was sinking, 
 9*
 
 102 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "what is the matter? Certainly you are not afraid of 
 him ?" 
 
 "Afraid !" he hoarsely replied, turning on her such a 
 horror-stricken face that she drew back a pace from him, 
 herself seized with an undefined fear. " What morthal 
 iver looked upon a ghost widout the fear o' God ?" 
 
 He rapidly and devoutly crossed himself, murmuring 
 snatches of his prayers. 
 
 " Why, Patrick Doyle !" she exclaimed, shaking him 
 even more vigorously. " What is the matter with you ? 
 Who said anything about ghosts ?" 
 
 " Yer own purty lips passed the word," he replied, 
 with a groan. "Didn't ye tell me ye heard his voice?" 
 with a shudder. 
 
 " W T hose voice ?" she asked, still perplexed. 
 
 " Shure, Barney Rooney's," he whispered, in a trem 
 bling tone. 
 
 " I never knew such a man, or even heard of him be 
 fore you mentioned his name just now," she answered, be 
 ginning to smile. 
 
 "Ye didn't?" said Pat, recovering his self-possession as 
 rapidly as he had lost it. "Thin it wasn't his ghost ye 
 heard jist now ?" 
 
 " A ghost's voice !" and she burst into a laugh, in 
 which he slowly joined. "Better for us all if it were 
 indeed the voice of a ghost. Xo, bless your superstitious 
 soul ! it was your master's voice, calling you. There it is 
 again !" 
 
 There was no mistake in the carthliness of that voice 
 as it came ringing around the corner, with clashing echoes 
 from barn, house and wood-shed. 
 
 " Hear the loud clack o' him ! Shure, he might be call- 
 in' the time o' day from the parish steeple wid that voice !" 
 
 Pat seized his hat to obey this very unwelcome sum 
 mons. 
 
 "Pat," said the woman, detaining him an instant, with 
 the soft pressure of her hand on his, that was now turning 
 the knob of the door, "you will be our friend not only 
 mine, but hers ?" glancing toward the other room. " You 
 will not tell her what you saw last night, nor what was 
 said to you this morning ?"
 
 IN "THE LEGAL REFUGE." 103 
 
 He nodded assent. She went on : 
 
 " Thank you, Pat ! It is so kind of you to help us ! 
 I see we can trust you to keep our secrets, and to stand by 
 us in any trouble." 
 
 He laid his hand upon his breast. This was always 
 his gesture when he spoke with deep feeling. 
 
 " Misthress Loyd," he said, with a voice that trembled 
 with earnestness, " it's the fast friend of the two of ye I'll 
 be to me dyin' day. Och hone !" raising his eyes, as full 
 of sorrow as was the warning tone of his voice, "shuiv, 
 the heart wud fairly break in me body if hurt or harm 
 kern to ye. I'll watch over ye all mind that; an' if Mr. 
 Silas Gagger to give him the benefit of his full name 
 thinks he'll make meself a spy on ye, he'll find he's missed 
 me like his mammy's blessin'." 
 
 Again came the angry calls of the voice at the barn. 
 
 " Arrah, hear the haste of him ! Does he take me fur 
 a strake of lightnin' ? Indade, I wish I wor. I'd hit him 
 this morn in' where it would take a moighty long time fur 
 him to gain his natheral powers." 
 
 With a wise look at Aziel, and touching his lips in 
 token of secrecy, he left the house, and ran toward the 
 barn, shouting, as he ran, 
 
 "Och, millia murthur wirasthrue! is it shpakin' to 
 me ye are, Misther Gagger?" 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IN " THE LEGAL REFUGE." 
 
 OVER the door of a small frame building that stood 
 near by the Green Tree Inn was a large white sign, 
 with these black letters on it : 
 
 RADER CRAFT, 
 
 Counscllor-at-Law. 
 
 One would suppose that in the small and quiet village 
 of Slowville there was little chance for a lawyer to gain
 
 104 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 a visible means of .support. But Slowville was inhabited 
 by neither saints nor non-resistants. The people had 
 those disputes and quarrels which are the outgrowth of 
 human nature, be it primitive or educated, and law was 
 as necessary to the peaee of mind and progress of the 
 Slowvilleites as it is to other communities larger and 
 more aristocratic. As moralists claim that no evil in life 
 is unaccompanied by a corresponding blessing, either 
 apparent or hidden, so it had come to pass that Rader 
 Craft, from his very first appearance in the town, had 
 been looked upon in the light of a providential dispensa 
 tion. If they must have a lawyer, said all the people, 
 what better one could they have than Rader Craft, who, 
 in addition to his knowledge of the law itself, was not 
 only an honest man, but endeavored at all times to be 
 a peacemaker, rather than a stirrer-up of strife? Such 
 being his reputation and he looked after his reputation 
 as closely as he watched his fees Rader Craft had suc 
 ceeded in Slowville far beyond his expectations. 
 
 He had come into the village five years ago with little 
 money in his pocket. So impecunious was he that he 
 was obliged to begin a system of credit, without any 
 other basis than the sign he nailed over his door and the 
 genial face and happy manner with which he greeted his 
 future clients; and the people trusted him. He knew 
 they would. Who could resist his unctuous smile, or 
 withstand the warm pressure of his great plump hand, 
 which seemed to exude alike to friend and stranger the 
 oil of human kindness? This morning, Rader Craft was 
 seated in his office to which he had given the name of 
 " The Legal Refuge " employed upon some important 
 document on his table. Ordinarily he had a pen as ready 
 as his tongue, but just now he seemed to proceed with 
 great labor and indecision. His brows were knitted with 
 the throes of literary effort, and he had no sooner written 
 a line than he drew his pen through it and gave vent to 
 a genuine sigh of despair. Xow it was not Rader Craft's 
 nature to despair of anything, however unattainable it 
 might seem to others of a mental composition weaker 
 than his own. A client might think his case hopeless, 
 and be ready to abandon it at any stage of the legal pro-
 
 IN "THE LEGAL REFUGE." 105 
 
 ceedings ; but the worse the case grew, the more hopeful 
 became Bader Craft, until his honest beaming smile, in 
 creasing in radiance with every succeeding difficulty, 
 would melt the heart of any juryman who for a moment 
 fell beneath its winning power. 
 
 The smile of Rader Craft ! Why, it would outweigh 
 the adverse charge of any judge in the circuit, it was such 
 an honest, beneficent and entreating smile. This morning 
 the smile seemed of no avail to contend with the difficul 
 ties he had encountered in writing so brief a composition 
 as a few lines on a sheet of note-paper. And although he 
 had been laboring diligently since his hurried breakfast at 
 the Green Tree, yet he had got no farther than the address 
 itself. To a superficial observer it would have seemed a 
 very, asy thing to write so brief an epistle, but to Rader 
 Craft it was a harder task than any legal document that 
 could be found in the book of forms that lay upon his 
 desk. He put aside his pen with a gesture of contempt. 
 Thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, he began to 
 stride up and down the room, as was his wont when 
 wishing to impress a jury with his complete confidence in 
 his case. 
 
 " It is very strange," he muttered, " that I should be 
 so suddenly at a loss to express myself. Of course there 
 are a hundred ways to write the note; but then, again, 
 there is only one way that is the best way. It will not 
 do for me to be too confident. I must be winning, not pre 
 sumptuous. My language should be vigorous with truth, 
 frank in its confessions, and yet solicitous in its weakness 
 and seductive in its hesitation. Egad ! I wish I had a 
 Complete Letter- Writer !" 
 
 As if this suggestion were an insult to his intelligence, 
 he suddenly moved to his table, sat down again, and took 
 np his pen with a dogged shake of his head. He was now 
 silent for a long while. There was no sound in the room 
 save his laborious breathing and the rapid sputtering of 
 his pen, which wrote, scratched out and rewrote, until a 
 dozen sheets of paper had been covered and pushed aside. 
 Finally, he took a fresh sheet, and slowly copied upon it 
 a sentence, here and there, from the pages he had written. 
 This was quite a task, for he was a poor penman and a
 
 106 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 worse speller, and was obliged to stop many times to con 
 sult his dictionary. At last his work was finished. Wip 
 ing the perspiration from his face, he lay back in his chair 
 with a chuckle of satisfaction, and read, slowly and in a 
 low tone, the following: 
 
 "THE LEGAL P,EFr<;i:, Thursday. 
 
 " Miss AZIEL LOYD : DEAR MADAM The case which I now present 
 to your consideration is one tli:it should melt the stoutest heart. A gen 
 tleman has retained me in his behalf, and I submit to you his appeal, 
 knowing that you will give a judgment dictated by your soul, than 
 which God has created nothing more tender, nothing sweeter, nothing 
 kinder, nothing more loving. Could this gentleman resist loving you ? 
 I ask the question, bluntly, it may be, to one so reserved and modest 
 as yourself. Yet, how else could I present the case of one who has been 
 charmed by your presence, ravished by your beauty, and now pines for 
 your recognition? Do not, I entreat you, close those lovely eyes to such 
 a worshiper. Give ear to his pleadings, and let his heart bound for 
 joy as your lovely head bows to his appeal. One smile from your 
 sweet lips would thrill his soul with the glories of another world, and 
 the lightest touch of your fair hand would make him your happy pris 
 oner for evermore. I will not yet divulge to you the name of your 
 adorer. Suffice it at present to say that he is a gentleman of good social 
 standing, fair abilities, ample means, and with a wealth of aiK ction 
 which to lavish on you would be his supreme delight, his greatest joy. 
 Let your own dear heart guess, with no trepidation or fear of mistake, 
 who is the slave of your beauty, the captive of your charms. You will 
 meet him ere long, and should he place in your fair hands a spray of 
 emblematic flowers, let them utter for him the warm words of his loving 
 heart, and may his speechless love be his strongest appeal. Yours very 
 truly, KADER CRAFT, Counsellor-at-Law." 
 
 He had scarcely finished reading this specimen of ama 
 tory writing and laid it down upon the table, when there 
 was a loud rap at the door, and Silas Gagger, without 
 waiting for an answer to his summons, entered the room. 
 
 O t 
 
 The lawyer deftly threw a newspaper over what lie had 
 been writing and advanced to meet his guest, who by this 
 time had deposited a well-filled carpet-bag upon the floor 
 and seated himself. 
 
 "Ah! going on a journey, I see?" Craft said, pointing 
 at the bag. " Well, nothing like a change of scene and 
 air to revive exhausted nature, give new impetus to the 
 springs of life and strength to the weary frame, and make 
 the heart glad and the soul merrv " 
 
 " Fudge !'' interrupted the old man, throwing out his 
 hand in token of silence. " I didn't come here to hear a
 
 iy "THE LEGAL REFUGE." 107 
 
 Fourth-of-July oration. Are you alone ? I want to see 
 you on business." 
 
 "Correct! We will proceed to business without delay," 
 rejoined Craft, suddenly dropping his elevated style of 
 speech and seating himself in front of the other, bringing 
 his face to close attention, though not without the beaming 
 smile. 
 
 "Can you keep a secret for me?" asked Ganger, a 
 scowl on his wrinkled face that heightened the glare in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " This breast," rejoined the lawyer, tapping his bosom 
 with a mysterious shake of his head, " is the repository 
 of innumerable secrets. If I were to stand in the middle 
 of yonder street and tell what I know, in less than an 
 hour every family in Slowville would be divided against 
 itself. Now do you ask me whether I can keep a secret?" 
 
 " I am going to Philadelphia, to stay a month or more, 
 just as it suits me. I wish to leave you in charge of my 
 house and wife while I am away." 
 
 The old man's scowl grew blacker, if that were pos 
 sible. 
 
 " At your service, Mr. Gagger," said Craft with a defer 
 ential bow. "Whatever directions you leave shall be 
 strictly followed." 
 
 " Would I leave directions unless I expected them to 
 be followed ?" snapped the other. " Don't interrupt me 
 again, but answer my questions. Is a man obliged to live 
 with his wife?" 
 
 " Xo ; nor a wife with her husband." 
 
 "Humph ! First time I ever heard that law and hap 
 piness were on the same side in married life," sneered the 
 visitor. 
 
 "Law, sir, allow me to add," said Craft, with a look of 
 offended dignity, "is the basis of human felicity; with 
 draw its protecting arms, and happiness would be ban 
 ished from the world and society plunged into chaos." 
 
 "Yes; that's what I suppose the man said when he 
 was hung," rejoined Gagger, his scowl softening into 
 somewhat of a leer. "You lawyers have a strange way 
 of making people happy. You provoke contests you can 
 not decide, and would not decide if you could at least,
 
 108 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 fO long as your clients have money. I know you well. 
 You are no better than the doctors, who poison a man try 
 ing to cure him, or the clergy, who raise more doubts in 
 people's minds than they can ever settle. I tell you, 
 Rader Craft, the world is governed by fraud instead of 
 law." 
 
 Silas Gagger's cane came down upon the floor with a 
 thump that startled even the placid listener. 
 
 " Well, well, we will not discuss at present the ethics of 
 the professions. There are questions entering into the 
 consideration of the subject which, viewed in the light "' 
 
 "That will do; we will dispense with your light, for it's 
 the light of old, which was hid under a bushel. So the 
 law does not compel a man to live with his wife ?" 
 
 "No; but it compels him to support her. Nothing 
 but a divorce from her, obtained by the husband on ac 
 count of her adultery or desertion, can take away her right 
 of maintenance by him." 
 
 " Humph ! I might have known that your wonderful law 
 is on the side of the woman, giving her all the advantage. 
 A man gets no justice in this world with law and women 
 against him !" 
 
 Gagger's cane beat an excited tattoo upon the floor, a 
 faint reflex of the disgust upon his face. 
 
 " Woman, my dear sir, is the weaker partv, and she 
 risks more in marriage than the man does. Risking more 
 than he, she should have the greater protection. He 
 should at least be made to support her. And, sir," wax 
 ing a trifling eloquent as he stretched out his arms with a 
 broad and sweeping gesture, "it is the glory of the law 
 that it throws around the weakness of lovely woman a bar 
 rier that man, with all the wickedness and roughness of 
 his nature, cannot break down. Yes, sir, to the glory of 
 jurisprudence be it spoken, woman stands enshrined in 
 the innermost sanctuarv of the Temple of Justice !'' 
 
 "Fudge!" exclaimed the other, with a snap of his 
 fingers; "don't take me for some stupid jury. Laws 
 were made to be broken, or there would be no employment 
 for your profession. And. what is more, any law can be 
 and is evaded, or there would be no use for lawyers of your 
 stamp. I tell you, Rader Craft, you might as well give up
 
 IN "THE LEGAL REFUGE." 109 
 
 trying to deceive me ; I can read you, and it's not very 
 hard to do it." 
 
 "Indeed ! What do you read ? I have been intending 
 for some time to have a phrenologist give me an index of 
 my character. Perhaps you can save me the expense, and 
 do the job even better than lie." 
 
 The lawyer smiled most graciously, and assumed an at 
 titude of respectful attention. 
 
 " You would take any case, provided it was brought to 
 you with money. Am I right?" 
 
 " Yes ; for it is my duty as a lawyer to undertake any 
 and every case. I am bound, by the very ethics of my 
 profession, to protect the guilty and defend the innocent. 
 It is my noble prerogative, sir, to see that the criminal re 
 ceived* no more than his just punishment, and the inno 
 cent no punishment at all. Do you comprehend the fine 
 distinction included in these two propositions?" 
 
 "Yes ; and I see the loopholes within for the escape of 
 your virtue ; for a lawyer's virtue is like the balance of 
 electricity least on the side where it is most needed." 
 
 " In plain words, then, you believe that I, representing 
 at present the most honorable of all the professions, would 
 do anything for money in my professional line? That, I 
 take it, my friend, is your very complimentary opinion of 
 the profession in general and myself in particular? 1 ' 
 
 " Yes ; and I will prove it," went on the other with a 
 cunning look as he took from his pocket five ten-dollar 
 gold-pieces and laid them on the table. " There are fifty 
 dollars. They represent a small portion of the value of 
 the information I wish to get suspicions," in a lower 
 tone, " I want confirmed. You are the man to do the 
 work. Am I mistaken ?" 
 
 "Explain yourself more fully," was the reply, as the 
 smile on the lawyer's face grew softly bland, losing the 
 touch of derision that had crept into it a moment before. 
 
 "I will. Do you remember the conversation we had 
 in this very room five years ago?" 
 
 " Yes; perfectly well. It was about your marriage with 
 the widow Slade," laying particular stress on the word 
 " widow." 
 
 Gagger was quick to detect the emphasis on this word, 
 10
 
 110 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 and, with a. little start, he bent his eyes with a question 
 ing and scrutinizing glance upon his companion. 
 
 The other made no response beyond the steadiness of 
 his genial smile and a posture of closer attention. 
 
 " Do you remember you told me that I would grow 
 tired of married life that my habits were too fixed that 
 I was too old to marry and that, if I were to marry, I 
 should wed as nearly as I could one of my own age?" 
 
 " Yes, I gave you that advice. It was advice founded 
 on my own observation and the experience of others. It 
 was good advice then is good advice now to any one 
 similarly situated, and will be until the end of time. 
 There are exceptions to every rule, but the general truth 
 in this particular relation remains the same old men 
 should not marry young women. Such a union involves 
 risks against which human nature has no insurance. 
 Have you discovered the truth or the falsity of my 
 predictions?" 
 
 " The truth," growled Gagger with a violent rap of 
 his cane. " What an old ass I was not to take your 
 advice'! If I had known you as well then as I do now, 
 1 would have done so. You understand women better 
 than I do. I will say that much in your praise, even if 
 you are a lawyer." 
 
 "I am obliged to you for the compliment, although it 
 comes so unwillingly," said the lawyer, his smile giving 
 way, for the instant, to a look of modest satisfaction. " So 
 you cannot live together harmoniously? Too bad! I 
 should judge you were a very easy man to deal with in 
 any relation of life. To be sure, you have your peculiar- 
 . but which of us has not? But of what avail is it 
 for a man to have the disposition of a saint if he is yoked 
 to a woman who is never pleased with anything he does 
 or says?" 
 
 " True, true," muttered Gagger, leaning his elbows on 
 his knees and resuming with his cane the tattoo on the 
 floor. " You are stating my case exactly. You are a 
 deep man, Rader Craft very deep." 
 
 "Yes ; I can see it all, as well as if I had been living 
 
 * * o 
 
 with you these last five years of your experiment. You 
 married for love "
 
 IN "THE LEGAL REFUGE." Ill 
 
 Gagger raised his head suddenly and threw out his hand 
 with a gesture of disgust as expressive as that which had 
 come to his face. 
 
 " Don't dwell on that portion of the case," he mut 
 tered. " I was a fool ! I did not know what I was 
 doing. Love? Bah ! It was an old man's silliness, his 
 folly, his stupidity !" 
 
 " Well, then," resumed the other, " we will not discuss 
 why you married. But it is evident that the widow mar 
 ried you for your money. Now, now, be calm !" for the 
 old man, at these words, began to turn himself about ex 
 citedly in his chair. " I am only giving you the same 
 opinion I did five years ago ; and you must acknowledge 
 I tried to do you a good service then in insisting upon 
 you? getting her to sign away her right of dower before 
 the marriage." 
 
 "Yes. And what a blind old idiot I was not to have 
 seen through her then and taken your advice !" 
 
 " Exactly so. But having taken your own way, and 
 found it a wrong one, 1 presume you will more readily 
 listen to me now. I think you said you had suspicions. 
 What are they? Is it possible" in a voice low, tremu 
 lous and. intensely dramatic "that you have suspicions 
 of the truth of my suggestion to you, that the widow 
 Slade was not a widow ?" 
 
 " Well, suppose she were not, what help could it be to 
 me now ?" 
 
 Gagger, keeping his eyes on the floor, effectually con 
 cealed, as he thought, the agitation which these words had 
 caused him, for now they were touching for the first time 
 the main object of his coming here this morning. 
 
 "No help, unless you can prove her former husband to 
 be still living; and none then, unless you are willing to 
 pay him to take her off your hands. For taking her back 
 or leaving her with you is wholly at his option. I guess, 
 though, you wouldn't object to a nice little sum for that 
 purpose. It's not often a man can get rid of his wife so 
 easily in a legal manner." 
 
 The lawyer shook his head very significantly, and let a 
 trifle of cunning slip into the blandness of his smile. 
 
 The visitor quickly raised his head. No use to try
 
 112 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 to conceal his surprise. What he had heard suggested a 
 train of thought that was entirely new, and as alarming 
 to him as it was unexpected. 
 
 That he might have to pay the former husband to take 
 his wife back was a proposition that made the perspira 
 tion start out at every pore. If this were so, he was at 
 the mercy of the former husband, who might also be in 
 league with his wife. If they should combine against 
 him, what escape would he have from their mercenary 
 schemes ? Thev could play upon him and rob him at 
 will. 
 
 11 1 see my words have not only surprised but startled 
 you," said the lawyer, as his companion sat dazed, wiping 
 his face with a trembling hand, that plainly told, even 
 better than his scared countenance, how some undefined 
 fear had seized upon him. " It is always best and most 
 professional as well that a client should learn at the first 
 the worst view of his case. Forewarned is forearmed, in 
 law as well as war. Let me explain to you the exact 
 legal status of the whole affair. If Slade, the former 
 husband of the supposed widow whom you married, 
 should come to life again and it is not an improbability, 
 as I suggested to you five years since he would have the 
 option of claiming his wife or not within six months after 
 his return or reappearance. If he should claim her, the 
 court would, on his application, dissolve your marriage. 
 If, on the other hand, he should prefer you to keep her, 
 he has only to let affairs remain as they are. So you see 
 the advantage is wholly on the side of Slade. He can 
 give or take just as he chooses." 
 
 " Confound the law !" muttered Gagger, leaning back 
 in his chair with a gasp of despair. "It's always on 
 the side of villainy. Here I am, an old man, who is 
 either to be hectored to death by my wife or robbed by 
 this scoundrel of a former husband, who can choose which 
 it shall be. It's too bad it's cruel, it's downright in 
 famous !" 
 
 Grasping his cane with a vicious look, he pounded the 
 floor, with a vigorous oath at every blow, while the law 
 yer smiled blandly and waited for the storm of wrath to 
 subside.
 
 Z.V " THE LEGAL REFUGE." 113 
 
 " Why don't you speak ? Why don't you advise me ?" 
 roared Gagger, looking up, and becoming more exasper 
 ated by the cool silence of his companion. " Why do 
 you sit there gloating over my misery ? Why don't 
 you show me the law that protects the innocent ? You 
 were talking about protection fast enough a moment 
 ago. Are you going to see me robbed of my hard earn 
 ings or worried to death by the worst shrew that ever 
 cursed a man's house ?" 
 
 " There, there ! my friend ! Calm yourself. There is 
 no necessity for such a display of temper. You have only 
 heard the worst side of your case. Now listen to the 
 other, and when you have heard it I think you will assent 
 to my former proposition that a lawyer can protect the in 
 nocent. First, let me thoroughly understand your wishes 
 in this matter. You want to get rid of this wife?" 
 
 " Of course I do," growled the other. " Do you think 
 I am the same idiot I was when I married her ?" 
 
 "I will reserve my opinion on that point until I see 
 the result of this interview," was the half-serious, half- 
 bantering reply. " Now answer me one question, and on 
 your answer depends the whole decision of the case. Sup 
 pose," laying his hand with an impressive gesture on the 
 other's arm, and throwing into his countenance a mys 
 terious look very suggestive of some hidden knowledge, 
 "I should be able to find this Blade, and induce him for 
 a consideration a money-consideration, you understand 
 to take his wife off your hands. What would such a 
 favorable solution of this very complicated and harassing 
 affair be worth to you ?" 
 
 " Have you any suspicions as to where the man is ?" 
 asked the other, suddenly assuming a confidential, coaxing 
 tone entirely foreign to his manner, and drawing nearer the 
 lawyer. " Have you heard anything lately? Have you 
 seen anybody ? Come, Craft, answer me. I see it in 
 your face ; you cannot deceive me." 
 
 "No, and you cannot deceive me," the bland smile dis 
 solving into the trifle of a laugh. U I see what you are 
 at. The idea has suddenly suggested itself to you to treat 
 directly with tin's man if he can be found, You think 
 you can make him take a smaller sum than I would men- 
 10* H
 
 114 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 tion as liis price if you employed me as your agent in the 
 matter. Come now, don't deny it. Acknowledge that 
 your avarice is getting the better of your judgment. You 
 have driven sharp bargains in your life, and you think 
 that here is a chance for the sharpest bargain of all. Try 
 it, if you choose. You will find yourself woefully mis 
 taken in your belief that you can work yourself out of 
 this difficulty at a small expense." 
 
 The lawyer's hand made a broad sweep as if resigning 
 the case, while the bland smile was blander than ever. 
 
 " I see you hesitate about altogether dispensing with rny 
 services/' resumed Craft as the other sat silent, twirling 
 his cane between his hands, his eyes fixed upon the floor. 
 " Suppose we start out in this way : I am if it be possi 
 ble to find the man, and get him to state the price at 
 which he is willing to relieve you of his wife. I will 
 submit his offer to you, and you can then decide upon its 
 acceptance or rejection. I, of course, am to impress upon 
 him that while you prefer to resume your single life, you 
 are not so anxious to do so as to pay him any large sum 
 for his aid in the matter. How does that suit you ?" 
 
 "I am agreed," said Gagger, after a long pause and 
 with something like a sigh of relief as he answered. 
 " Now tell me, Craft, since we have come to an under 
 standing, how you are going to proceed. What do you 
 know about this man Slade ? Has he turned up, and do 
 you know where he is ?" 
 
 " Are you going to Philadelphia to-day?" asked Craft, 
 turning in his seat and beginning to pick up the gold- 
 pieces from the table. 
 
 " Yes in the noon train." 
 
 " Then you have not much time to spare," looking at 
 his watch. " Where are you going to stay ?" 
 
 The number of the house and name of the street were 
 given, and the lawyer wrote them down in his memoran 
 dum-book an unusually large volume for the purpose 
 among whose leaves he sought, with evident trouble, for 
 a blank page upon which to make the entry. 
 
 " I declare," he said, looking at the book with great 
 satisfaction as he closed its leaves, "the memorandums of 
 important cases in this diary make me really proud of my-
 
 IX "THE LEGAL REFUGE." 115 
 
 self. But success is a fair extenuation of self-glorification. 
 I little dreamed five years ago that I would stand at the 
 head of the bar of Lycoming County. By the by, friend 
 Gagger, you spoke about leaving me in charge of your 
 house and wife while you are away. Excuse my haste," 
 assuming an air of restlessness and looking at his watch, 
 " but I have an engagement here by appointment with a 
 client, and the sooner we arrange matters the less danger 
 of interruption. If I am not mistaken in my surmises, 
 you wish me to give your wife each week a certain sum 
 for household expenses. Am I correct?" 
 
 " Yes," nodded the other, slowly drawing out a pocket- 
 book shiny and black with age. " Here are twenty dol 
 lars. Give her five dollars a week until you hear from 
 me tQ ,the contrary. Mind, now, not a cent more!" 
 
 " Not a sum to \varrant extravagance on her part," 
 smiled the lawyer, taking the money and dropping it 
 piece by piece into his own pocket, every jingle sending 
 a momentary thrill of sadness through the donor's heart. 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," growled the old man. 
 " After paying the woman Aziel one dollar, and Pat a 
 dollar and a half, she will have t\vo dollars and a half 
 left, which is more a week than any economical woman 
 ought to have when the house is stocked with vegetables 
 and salt meats. I used to live on half of that sum before 
 I was married." 
 
 " Just as you say," replied Craft with his deferential 
 smile. " You understand the science of domestic economy 
 better than I do. Now, to hurry on with our business, I 
 suppose you wish me to keep an eye on the house, and 
 report anything unusual any strange visitors, any little 
 domestic affair out of the usual routine? Not that either 
 of us has any suspicions, my dear sir," laying his hand 
 on his companion's shoulder with a very significant look 
 that deepened the cunning of his smile, " but we simply 
 conclude that, during your absence, a little professional 
 oversight on my part, a moderate amount of guardian 
 ship, would not be amiss." 
 
 The other fully comprehended him, and yet, restraining 
 all evidence of the malicious hopes that stirred his breast, 
 he said,
 
 116 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " There is no necessity for me to say another word. I 
 see you understand me perfectly. Craft, you are a deep 
 fellow very deep and worthy of your name. Good 
 bye!" shaking his hand, and turning to the valise, which 
 he picked up, and then started toward the door. " Re 
 member, Craft, if you manage this affair well for me you 
 will be a richer man than you are iiO\v." 
 
 With a wink that made his face grotesquely humorous 
 Silas Gagger made a sudden exit, for just at that instant his 
 ear had caught the dull whistle of the approaching train. 
 After he had gone the lawyer sat down in his chair and 
 gave himself up to silent joy as this grand opportunity to 
 better his fortune spread itself, with a fascinating clear 
 ness, before him. Rubbing his fat hands together, and 
 exulting so heartily that his face seemed unable to con 
 tain another jot of such teeming joy, he ejaculated, 
 
 " Rader Craft ! Rader Craft ! you lucky man ! Ay, ay, 
 most noble Roman, thy star of destiny has at last arisen, 
 and shines brightly in the eastern sky. Fortune hovers 
 over you, and love leads the way." 
 
 A few moments later he had merrily sealed and directed 
 the note which had cost him so much labor, and, secreting 
 it with a fond gesture next to his heart, he went out in 
 search of Dibbs, the presiding genius of the bar at the 
 Green Tree Inn. Dibbs should be the shrewd messenger 
 to carry this loving epistle. Dibbs, too, should be his 
 right-hand man, his detective, in fact, to play the spy 
 upon the inmates of the farm-house and the mysterious 
 stranger Slade, no doubt, as he already believed the man 
 to be, from what Dibbs had told him who he was sure 
 would soon reappear in Slowville. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 VOICES IN THE AUTUMN WOODS. 
 
 fTlHE girl, carrying back the token her lover had given 
 JL her, did not let it rest long in her pocket, where the 
 old man had thrust it ; nor did she go far upon her way
 
 VOICES IN THE AUTUMN WOODS. 117 
 
 with the quick footsteps with which, in responsive obe 
 dience to her father's injunction of haste, she had left the 
 cottage-door and hurried down the garden-path. Already 
 clasped in her hand, the locket was pressed upon her 
 bosom, and odd coincidence indeed over her very heart, 
 where Volney had bidden her always to wear it. And now, 
 with the slow, uncertain tread of one who doubts the best 
 and fears the worst, she was approaching the willow copse, 
 although it did not lie in her direct path, and was a place 
 which one would think that just now she would have 
 shunned. She stopped an instant, with a movement of 
 hesitation ; then audibly wishing, with many a heavy t igh, 
 that she might avoid this sad spot, .where her lover had 
 left her in anger, she went straight on toward it, with that 
 perversity of real love which so often seeks the very means 
 of increasing its unhappiness. She thought she must be 
 crying now, there was such a mist in her eyes, and she felt 
 such a great, swelling lump surging up in her throat. 
 Throwing out her hands gropingly against the willow 
 branches, she parted them, and passed into the enclosure. 
 For a moment she stood motionless, her head upon her 
 breast, which, agitated by apprehensions she could not de 
 fine, rose and fell with the rapid beating of her heart. 
 
 At last she raised her glistening eyes and cast a swift 
 glance about her. The spot where he had stood was more 
 luminous than all the rest, and on it her eyes fell with a 
 peculiar and peaceful sadness. For how doubly dear to 
 her now was this place ! Here they first had met he 
 with smiles and she with blushes ; and here they last had 
 parted she with tears and he with frowns. "Parted? 
 Yes, parted perhaps for ev " She did not finish the 
 word. It trembled, half pronounced, upon her quivering 
 lip, and then died away in silence. No, no! she would 
 not, could not, believe they had parted for ever. She 
 would not despair of seeing him again. How or when 
 she knew not, any more than she could tell why she loved 
 him. Loved him ! How her heart fluttered with this 
 thought, and then sent it thrilling along her nerves, until 
 she feared that her hot cheeks would betray her happy 
 secret to the brook that glimmered at her through the 
 branches at her feet ! Loved him, when he had been so
 
 118 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 unkind to her? No, not unkind; it was only a little im 
 patient that he was. He had been deceived by her own 
 foolish hesitation. He did not understand what she 
 meant; and how could he, when she had told him noth 
 ing? 
 
 "Poor Volney!" she murmured, uttering his name 
 more tenderly than she had ever spoken it save in her 
 dreams. "How cruel I was to him, to make him so 
 angry to hurt his feelings so!" Thus bewailing her un 
 generous treatment of him, she burst into a flood of pen 
 itent tears. 
 
 Weeping as she went, she left the willow copse, passing 
 through the same opening by which he had departed. She 
 crossed the brook too, spreading just here into a wider 
 and shallower stream, stepping on the very stones she Was 
 sure his feet must have touched; and into the woods she 
 went, along the path that skirted their edge. He must 
 have trodden this path this very morning, for whose foot 
 steps but his would Caesar trace with such joy as he bounded 
 along before her, scattering the leaves that lay in his way 
 and waking the woodland echoes with his happy barking ? 
 She called the dog to her and chided him for his merri 
 ment. Laying her hand upon his great broad forehead, 
 she regarded him with a sad shake of her head, and said 
 to him, with trembling voice, 
 
 " Csesar, you dear, good soul ! you would not be so hap 
 py if you only knew how sad I am, and what makes me 
 so. But I cannot tell you now, Caesar," with a little 
 gush of tears; "so you must walk beside me, and keep 
 very quiet that's a dear, good dog," stooping down and 
 caressing him. 
 
 They went on together now in silence, she slightly 
 ahead of her pet, who followed his mistress with half- 
 dejected head, as if he had already made her trouble a 
 matter of serious reflection, and decided, if possible, he 
 would find her a way out of it. How bright the woods 
 were, with the witching charm and rich variety of Au 
 tumn, who, like some monarch, seemed to be moving 
 across the landscape, followed by an Orient army with 
 blazing banners, glittering shields of silver and gold, and 
 all the gorgeous pageantry of Eastern splendor ! Plow
 
 VOICES IN THE AUTUMN WOODS. 119 
 
 brilliant were the trees, as if the departed beauty of the 
 summer's sunset had been distilled into leaf and twig and 
 branch ! What glowing hues of crimson and scarlet and 
 gold ! The rainbow itself, falling upon the forest, could 
 have left no brighter colors there. The trees, bathed in 
 the light of the noonday sun, shone like pillars of fire, or 
 glowed like the red robes of royalty, or flashed like ban 
 ners of Persian cloth of gold. Amid all this beauty of 
 brilliant gorgeous coloring, far more exquisite than the 
 forest had presented in its fresh, green summer life, when 
 those leaves had laughed in the sunbeams and sung in the 
 breezes, wooing sunlight and shadow alike, amid all this 
 splendor, which blazed along the tree-tops and flashed here 
 and there from bush and flower and lowly plant, the girl 
 walked, with head dejected and eyes fixed upon the ground. 
 She saw only the fallen, faded and sombre leaves as they 
 rustled across her path, strewn thickly with these relics of 
 a happy summer-time. It was not the rollicking breezes 
 she heard now in the high tree-tops, that playfully nodded 
 their heads to the bright blue sky, but, instead, upon her 
 ear fell the moaning of the bleak wind, as it hastened, with 
 a ghastly shudder, through the waning woods, as if it too 
 for the girl had now quickened her pace could not 
 bear to linger amid this sorrowful decay of Nature's sum 
 mer glories. So on swept the moaning wind, and on sped 
 the unhappy girl ; and yet the wind came back again to 
 linger in the gloomy forest, and so did the maiden's 
 thoughts ever return to the one sorrow of her heart, as 
 if, indeed, there were some hidden joy in her grief, some 
 enjoyment even in her sadness. Silently pursuing her 
 way along the margin of the brook, whose gentle trills 
 and melancholy murmurs kept rhythmical cadence to her 
 fainting hopes and growing fears, she came at length out 
 of the woods of chestnut, oak and maple, of sumac and 
 dogwood, and found herself on the edge of the little pine 
 grove that skirted the Gagger farm the little pine grove 
 which she had so often longed to see, for was it not there 
 that her lover had told her he had spent many happy 
 hours in thinking and dreaming of her? It was a place 
 for dreaming or for loving, or for dreaming of the lov 
 ing and the loved. How serene was the silence ! how
 
 120 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 hallowed the stillness that floated on the dim, slumberous 
 air ! the air, laden with its fragment balsam, which stole 
 upon the senses like an all-pervading opiate to lull the 
 soul to happiest dreams! Ah, here might the weary and 
 the careworn, and the spirit of unrest itself, find peace at 
 last I Here can never come the harsh sounds of busy hu 
 man toil and strifes ; here are hushed even the dreamy 
 murmurs of the \voodland life. Neither song of bird nor 
 hum of insect vibrates on the expectant hush that fills 
 the air. It is as if Nature herself, drawing apart a while 
 from all her other works, knelt here in silent prayer. 
 
 The girl grew calmer herself as she stood rapt in con 
 templation of the scene. Numberless vague but sweet as 
 sociations and memories of the past stole over the tumult 
 of her soul. Soon she felt that subtle charm pervading 
 heart and brain, that refreshment of. soul which ever 
 comes to one alone with Nature or with Nature's God, 
 and hope again touched with a gentle smile her cheek and 
 brow. Ere long she started with a little cry of joy, for, 
 as she hud gone on farther into the recesses of these beck 
 oning pines, her eyes had caught sight of a clearing just 
 beyond. Suddenly, impelled by an influence she could 
 not resist, she darted across the soft turf, that scarcely bent 
 beneath her light, flying feet, and in another moment was 
 kneeling, with happy though tearful eyes, beside the rustic 
 seat, the beechwood chair, his hands had fashioned. It 
 stood only a few paces from the brook, at the foot of an 
 old gnarled pine whose trunk was seamed with the red of 
 many vanished summers. This ancient tree was covered 
 here and there with streaming tufts of gray lichen, while 
 wild flowers, growing at its base, seemed like this maiden 
 nere unconscious loveliness at the feet of unobservant 
 age. So this was his retreat, his place to think on her 
 alone! she thought, surveying it with tender and tim 
 orous glance. This, then, was where he told her he had 
 sat for hours, hearkening to her laugh in yonder brook, 
 seeing her face in the flowers, her smile in the sunshine, 
 and listening, enchanted, to her voice in the zephyr's soft 
 sighing ! 
 
 Now she also remembered, as a stray tear stole away 
 from her lashes, that he had said he had cut their initials
 
 VOICES IN THE AUTUMN WOODS. 121 
 
 somewhere on the trunk of this pine tree cut them, he 
 had laughingly declared, in large, broad and deep letters, 
 so that the growing bark could not blot them out in many, 
 many years cut them on the southern side, where the 
 sun might always shine upon these letters, as he hoped 
 fortune would some day shine upon themselves. Where was 
 the sunny side of this rough and grizzled tree, which looked 
 as if it cared for neither sun nor light, darkness nor tem 
 pest, and could carry for ever a love-secret in its silent and 
 sturdy bosom ? The girl rose slowly to her feet and gazed 
 upward with eager, questioning eyes, which had a trace of 
 happiness in their search. No, the letters were not here ; 
 besides, this was the shady side. This she knew from the 
 signs learned from her father. This thicker and rougher 
 bark,,and these thick gray lichens, grew always on the 
 northern side of pines and other trees, to protect them 
 from the bleak winds and piercing storms that winter 
 brought from the frigid climes of the North. Slowly, 
 and with upturned, curious eyes, she now passed around to 
 the other side of the tree, where streams of sunlight fell 
 flashing through the dusky foliage above. In another in 
 stant she had clasped her hands with a little cry of joy, 
 and was looking up with transfixed and beaming eyes. 
 There they were, as plain to her as the letters upon the 
 locket. High up he had cut them, where no rude hand 
 could touch them, no curious eye pry into the loving mys 
 tery of their entwining. Ah, how clearly she made them 
 out, despite their elevation ! How readily she compre 
 hended, with alternating blush and gentle sigh, the design, 
 so natural, in which he had wrought them a large "\" 
 with a small "E" within its arms; and a large "S" with 
 a miniature "G" enclosed- in each of its curves. What 
 could be more typical of a strong and earnest love? 
 What more suggestive of its constant guardianship, its 
 tender care, its all-embracing solicitude? And he had 
 loved her in this way had loved her ! The girl could not 
 see the letters now. They had faded out in the gathering 
 haze of her eyes blurred out of sight at last. She sank 
 down upon the ground, and, with her face buried in her 
 hands, gave full vent to her tears, as she rocked to and 
 fro, and let her heart take complete possession of her 
 H
 
 122 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 thoughts. All she could think of just now was how much 
 she loved him. No matter if he had been unkind to her 
 this morning, she loved him still, and loved him all the 
 more. Nor did she once ask herself whence or why this 
 all-pervading feeling of her soul. It was joy enough 
 question and answer enough for her to know that he 
 was never so dear to her as now. Nor could she remem 
 ber when she had not loved him. It seemed to her as 
 if she had always loved Volney. Loved him ! Her life 
 had been the happiness of living only worth remembering 
 since they had met. Ah, the few short hours of their 
 meetings, far too rare, were to her now years of happi 
 ness that bathed her past in a glorious light, and fell upon 
 her future with a mellow radiance that time, she knew, 
 could not dispel nor dim at all. Loved him ! She was 
 weeping fast now, for she was holding the locket pressed 
 to her lips, covering it with passionate kisses, as if her 
 heart would break were it not for the caressing of this 
 treasure, which, even with him gone away in anger, 
 brought him now so nigh. Ah ! was he not always near 
 her? Could she ever forget him for a single second in 
 the long and weary days to come? Though she might 
 never see him again, would or could his image ever lose 
 one atom of the clearness with which it glowed in every 
 fibre of her heart? 
 
 While thus deeply absorbed she sat, asking herself 
 these and many other questions which called out more 
 and more the full, strong feeling of her attachment, 
 she was startled by a sudden growl from Caesar, and, 
 listening, she heard the sound of footsteps. Quickly 
 turning and looking in the direction of the brook, she 
 saw a woman crossing it a female dressed in black, of 
 medium height and figure. She had never before seen 
 this woman, the girl knew full well, as the figure came 
 closer and the resolute pale face stood out clear in the sun 
 light. Yet the stranger now advanced with a look of 
 semi-recognition, and an expression, too, of friendliness. 
 Emily, on the instant she had espied this new-comer, had 
 hastily put the locket out of sight, hiding it in her bosom. 
 Then, rising to her feet in no little alarm, she pushed back 
 the hair that had strayed from beneath her faded hood
 
 VOICES IN THE AUTUMN WOODS. 128 
 
 and fixed her timid eyes upon the stranger. Now, grow 
 ing each instant less fearful, yet agitated by the sudden 
 hope that this might be Volney's mother, she stood with one 
 hand pressed against the tree and the other resting on 
 Caesar's head, waiting, with half-drawn breath, the nearer 
 approach of the woman, who still came on, and with a re 
 assuring smile upon her face. Odd to relate, Cffisar, con 
 trary to his usual manner with strangers, gave evident 
 signs of his approval of this new acquaintance. He 
 wagged his tail, threw up his nose with several sniffs of 
 satisfaction, and ended his demonstrations with a growl 
 of content and a composing shake of his massive frame, 
 which he now laid down at the feet of his mistress, fixing 
 his eyes with rapid alternation on her and the figure so 
 close at hand. 
 
 Aziel Loyd for she the woman was stopping but a 
 pace or two away, spoke to Emily in a voice as reassur 
 ing as her smile had been, which was now transformed 
 into a look of admiration, quickly succeeded by an ex 
 pression of pity, for she saw in the eyes and cheeks of 
 the girl plain traces of her recent tears. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed at seeing me," she said. " I had 
 no idea of meeting any one here, and you, indeed, least 
 of all. I was on my way to the village, and to make a 
 short cut was corning through these woods. But why, 
 my child, are you here, so far away -from your home ? I 
 thought your father never allowed you to go out of his 
 sight?" 
 
 " I am on my way to the farm-house yonder," she re 
 plied, hesitatingly, with a bashful inclination of her head. 
 " I have an errand there for my father." Then, as if she 
 had taken sudden courage from the pleasant face that was 
 bent over her, she asked, raising her own with a timid 
 yet an unspeakable yearning in it, " Are are you his 
 mother ?" 
 
 Before the other could reply, Emily, frightened by the 
 boldness of her question, had again drooped her head to 
 hide the chiding blushes that burned upon her cheeks. 
 But the woman did not answer quickly. A white look, 
 as the girl spoke these words, had come into her face 
 a scared look springing quickly there to conceal which
 
 124 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 she turned away her head for an instant; and as she 
 turned her head, her hand, with a movement evidently 
 unconscious, groped with a nervous, clutching motion 
 about her heart. But only a second did she stand thus, 
 for now, turning to her companion with face again com 
 posed, she said, gently caressing the other's shoulder, 
 
 "So you are on your way to see his mother? I know 
 what you mean by his," she went on with a grave smile. 
 " You mean one who is dearer to me than all else the 
 world could give me so dear, indeed," her voice trem 
 bling, "that I doubt if even you are dearer to him than 
 he is to me. Yet," surveying with a look of unrestrain 
 ed admiration the graceful figure and lovely features of 
 the girl, who had crept closer to her, " I cannot blame 
 him for loving you. You are very handsome, child, and 
 good besides : that I can read in this sweet face. You 
 will let me love you too, for his sake?" tenderly kissing 
 her. 
 
 For answer the girl hid her face on the other's bosom, 
 and wept a moment in glad surprise ; for, next to the joy 
 of his loving her, what affection could be more grateful to 
 her soul than that of his mother, whom until now she 
 had feared would never care for her ? 
 
 " I am so glad, so happy, that you love me !" she 
 managed to say at last, looking up into the other's face 
 through her joyful tears. " He told me you might not 
 love me much at first, but that you would love me some 
 time almost as much as you love him." 
 
 "So I will," the woman said, pressing the upturned, 
 pleading face to her heart. "But tell me, what is your 
 errand? It must be important, else your father would 
 not send you so far alone. When I came here I found 
 you crying ; so lean guess this much that your errand 
 is not a pleasant one to you. Come, you must let me be 
 your friend. Sit down here," leading her to the rustic 
 seat. " There is room enough for both of us. Now, 
 while I have my arm about you so, you must tell me not 
 only your errand, but all about your troubles for trou 
 bles you have, I am sure and perhaps I can be of ser 
 vice to you in some way. I am a good hand, I assure 
 you, to assist people in their distress at least," with a
 
 VOICES IN THE AUTUMN WOODS. 125 
 
 sigh, "I can help them to bear misfortune, if I can do 
 nothing to rid them of it." 
 
 The other made no reply just yet, but the woman, as 
 she was speaking, had felt the girl nestling nearer to her, 
 pillowing her head closely upon her bosom, and clinging 
 with a firmer pressure of her two palms to the other's 
 hand that rested in her lap. And now, silence ensuing, 
 she was greatly agitated, as if by some mental conflict, 
 apparently wishing to speak to her companion and unbur 
 den her soul, but still hesitating to open her lips in fact, 
 without the power just now to do so, so great a fear of 
 her father had come suddenly upon her. 
 
 " Poor child !" murmured the other, softly kissing the 
 fair forehead that drooped upon her bosom, " do not be 
 afraid to tell me all you wish. I will ask you no ques 
 tions. You shall say to me just as much or just as little 
 as you like. Any secret you may choose to tell me shall 
 be as safe with me as if it were my own. Poor, dear 
 child !" she went on musingly, the caress of her arm 
 tightening, while the girl kept tremblingly silent; "he 
 told me you had neither mother nor sister. I will be 
 both to you, if you only will let me. I will counsel you 
 and guide you in all those things where a mother's love 
 and care are always needed ; and surely you need them 
 both in your strange life. In me, too, you can confide all 
 the little secrets that sisters love to dwell upon. Come," 
 she gently entreated, smiling encouragingly, "do not shut 
 your heart against me. Let me be your friend let me 
 freely love you as if you were a child of mine !" 
 
 Emily, deeply aifected by the woman's sympathy, 
 could no longer resist its magnetic power, despite her 
 promise to her father to repeat only what he had said, and, 
 notwithstanding her resolution and her eifort to keep that 
 promise, she failed now of obedience. Taking the locket 
 from her bosom and pressing it into the woman's hand 
 w r ith a burst of tears, she went on, with a broken voice 
 and words that eagerly crowded one another for utterance. 
 She told the story of the locket, as well as that of her 
 parting with her lover. Then, as if this outpouring of 
 her confidence had somewhat soothed her agitation, she 
 said in a calmer voice, her eyes fixed upon the locket, 
 11*
 
 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 which her hand still fondled as it lay in the other's 
 palm, 
 
 " When you give him this locket, you will tell him that 
 I I" 
 
 She broke down here, but the woman caught the sentence 
 tip, and cheerily said, 
 
 "Yes, yes! you can rest assured I shall tell him that 
 you love him just as much as ever, unreasonable as he 
 was with you the foolish boy ! But don't you remember 
 or mind his little burst of jealousy. It's all over now, I 
 warrant, and he is soundly accusing himself for it. Lover- 
 like, he will not keep this locket long, I am certain. 
 He'll be back here soon enough to beg your pardon and 
 beseech you to take the locket again. When he learns, as 
 I shall tell him, how constant you are in spite of the way 
 in which he has treated you, his love will become all the 
 stronger perfect idolatry, in fact ;" and the woman with 
 a merrv laugh caught the fair face, so bright and happy at 
 these words, in her two hands, and kissed the lips that 
 quickly kissed her back again with the impulsive affection 
 of a child. 
 
 Csesar, who during this conversation had been wander 
 ing with an uneasy motion around the tree, now suddenly 
 became very demonstrative. As if impatient of further 
 delay, he ran hack and forth on the path they had come, 
 and then, with a low, whining growl, he seized in his 
 teeth the gown of his mistress and gently pulled upon 
 it. 
 
 "What is the matter with him? Does he hear any 
 body ?" asked Aziel, hastily glancing around and start 
 ing from her seat, while a scared look, like that she bore 
 a while ago, came into her face. 
 
 "No," rejoined Emily, quickly rising and drawing her 
 shawl closer about her and her hood farther over her 
 face; "it's only his way of telling me that it is time for 
 us to go home. Dear, good Csesar!" patting him ; "it's 
 strange how much he seems to know. He thinks a great 
 deal, I am sure, and he talks too, so that I cau understand 
 him ; don't you, Cirsar?" 
 
 "He evidently knows that you are in his keeping," said 
 the woman, eying him askance; "and I am sure you
 
 VOICES IN THE AUTUMN WOODS. 127 
 
 could be with no safer guardian wherever you might go. 
 But I will keep you no longer," embracing and kissing 
 her ; " and as it is better that neither your father nor any 
 one else should see us together now, I will wait here until 
 you are out of sight or nearly home, when I will go on 
 my way to the village. Of our conversation this morn 
 ing tell your father whatever you think best. Remember 
 this that if ever you should want a friend always ready 
 and anxious to help you, you will find a warm welcome 
 from me, day or night, at the farm-house yonder." 
 
 A kiss, an embrace, a parting look, and they had sep 
 arated, the girl with light step speeding through the check 
 ered shadows of the trees, the woman looking after her 
 with a sad and loving expression. 
 
 "I could not undeceive her," murmured Aziel Loyd, 
 with a heavy sigh. " Well, let her think I am his mother. 
 What harm is there in that to her ? Certainly none to 
 him. Indeed, is it not all the better for the happiness of 
 them both that I should keep the locket for him, and tell 
 him myself what she was saying here ? How else, I 
 wonder, would he ever get the one or hear the other? 
 Not from Mrs. Gagger, I know, who ere this would have 
 sent the poor child back to her home in bitter tears." 
 
 With this resolution, and trusting to chance and her 
 own adroitness to carry on the deception to a successful 
 issue, Aziel went slowly on her way through the woods. 
 Her brain was so busy scheming and plotting as she 
 Avalked that she did not notice, as she reached the out 
 skirts of the forest, a man who evidently had been watch 
 ing her approach, and now came directly toward her. No 
 need for him to come nearer for her recognition. Before 
 he had raised his hand in token of silence the hand upon 
 which shone the jeweled finger she knew him well, and 
 had pressed her hand upon her lips to stifle the cry of sur 
 prise that came to them on meeting so unexpectedly, face 
 to face, the man whose evil purposes she had set about, 
 this very morning, to bring to naught if possible.
 
 128 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 WHAT THE BIRDS MIGHT HA VE HEARD. 
 
 WHILE the woman stood half shrinking in his path 
 way, trying to recover her self-possession, and to 
 face the man with something of the calmness she felt was 
 necessary, in her manner at least, he came closer, with a 
 confident air and a smile of familiarity not less suggestive 
 than the touch with which he laid his hand upon her arm 
 and spoke. 
 
 " Surprised to see me here, aren't you ? Thought you 
 were rid of me for a week at least?" he said with a little 
 mocking laugh, bending his crafty eyes so close to her face 
 that she could not help recoiling from him. " You are 
 still a trifle afraid of me, I see. But pshaw, Aziel !" his 
 voice suddenly changing to a tone at once confidential and 
 insinuating; "you have no good reason to fear me. On 
 the contrary, our interests are still, as they have always 
 been, mutual, if you would only have them so. You and 
 I can always get along together, Aziel. There is no need 
 for us to quarrel or work against each other. Come, don't 
 look so distrustful of me. Let us shake hands ; let us be 
 friends, now and always." 
 
 With an effort of strength she managed to put out her 
 trembling hand, but she could not, try ever so hard, look 
 up at- him now, so white with dismay as she knew her 
 face was. Be in a friendly compact with him now and 
 always ! Leagued with him against all she held dear in 
 life ! The thought made her shudder, and her heart 
 flutter with a motion almost motionless. 
 
 " Come, we will sit down yonder and talk a while," he 
 resumed, affecting not to notice her trepidation, and point 
 ing to a fallen stump near by. " Don't be afraid of being 
 seen with me. We are safe enough from observation 
 should anybody chance to go along the road." 
 
 He led her, half inclined to break away from him and 
 flee the spot, to the seat, when he gently pushed her down 
 upon it. Then, taking his own position close beside her, 
 he caught up a withered branch from the ground, and
 
 WHAT THE BIRDS MIGHT HAVE HEARD. 129 
 
 slowly snapping off its twigs one by one, he said, turn 
 ing upon her a quizzical look, 
 
 " You have had an exciting time up at the farm-house 
 this morning the old man gone, the young man cleared 
 out, and, I guess, His Satanic Majesty let loose generally. 
 How does Mrs. Slade that was survive such a sudden and 
 unexpected wreck of earthly affections? Feels as bad 
 about the old man's going away, I suppose, as she did 
 when she heard I was drowned in the Pacific." 
 
 Then he chuckled, and breaking the now twigless 
 branch into pieces, he threw them at a little bird twit 
 tering on a bush near at hand. If the woman had been 
 surprised at meeting him here in the woods, she certainly 
 was more so to hear him tell her what had so recently 
 occurred at the farm-house. And so busy was her mind 
 asking the question when and how and where he could 
 have gained this information that she made him no 
 reply. 
 
 " You are wondering how I know all this," he said with 
 a wink and a cunning shake of his head. " You certainly 
 have not forgotten my old ability to ferret out secrets ? If 
 I remember rightly, you and she were never able to hide 
 anything from me in those good old times when we all sat 
 under the same vine and fig tree, as the poet says. Now, 
 don't look so distressed, I beg of you ! Those .good old 
 times may come again. Who knows?" chuckling again. 
 "A man ought not to lie seven years in the Pacific Ocean, 
 and then get not only a cheerless but a scornful welcome as 
 soon as he comes back to life. The sorrowing friends ought 
 to pay a warmer tribute to the reviving corpse. Well, 
 well !'' he went on with a mocking sigh, flinging up his 
 hands with a little gesture of pity; "moral worth is ever 
 slighted in this mercenarv world, and affections so called 
 cease with the last nail in the coffin-lid. Alas, alas ! We 
 had better change the subject, Aziel, and talk of business. 
 So my worthy successor to Mrs. Slade's affections that 
 beautiful anatomical specimen of old age she has taken for 
 a husband has gone away this morning in a huff, has he? 
 Took his carpet-bag with him, too. That looks as if he 
 were going to be absent a while. Fine antique carpet 
 bag that in size a small section of Noah's ark ; and it 
 
 I
 
 130 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 corresponded so well with his clothes those relics of the 
 flood. Generous man, I should s:iv ; saves money on him 
 self to give it away to others. Ah ! the missionary cause 
 would suffer if he died. Eh, A/iel?" 
 
 " lie is a very close and very saving man," she said at 
 length, after quite a pause, during which she had been 
 looking sideways at him in mute bewilderment. 
 
 How had he learned so much in so short a time? His 
 knowledge of affairs which had so lately and so secretly 
 transpired must have been gained, she argued, by some 
 supernatural means, unless, indeed, he had learned these 
 secrets in the only other way possible namely, by talking 
 with Mr. Gagger himself; and in regard to this latter 
 alternative she quickly resolved to satisfy herself at once. 
 
 "Did you have any conversation with him this morn 
 ing?" she asked with a forced steadiness in her tone, and 
 apparently busy in readjusting the folds of her shawl, 
 that had just now conveniently fallen away from her 
 shoulders. 
 
 " I thought you would ask me that question. Ah, 
 Aziel, you are a quiet little soul, but you are deep: I 
 always said that. Well, in this particular case, I don't 
 mind telling you the truth. No; J have not spoken a 
 word this morning to that saintly old soul, though I was 
 within twenty feet of him as he passed along the road 
 yonder," pointing over his shoulder in the direction of 
 the highway. " On the contrary, I absolutely refused an 
 introduction to him last evening." 
 
 "You did?" she exclaimed under her breath, her as 
 tonishment increasing. 
 
 " Yes. As I was leaving your lane last night that is, 
 the lane leading to the farm-house, where I had the pleas 
 ure of renewing my acquaintance with you and Mrs. 
 Slade that was he caught a glimpse of me and called to 
 me to stop; but," with a comical roll of his eye, " consid 
 erations entirely personal to myself induced me not to re 
 spond to his pressing invitation to remain for an intro 
 duction. I preferred to make his acquaintance at a later 
 period. Perhaps you will introduce me when it shall suit 
 me best to meet him. Now, don't turn so pale and look 
 so anxious at a little joke like that. As I said before,
 
 WHAT THE BIRDS MIGHT HAVE HEARD. 131 
 
 you and I can work together in this business compare 
 notes and work up the points. Yes, yes ; we will be part 
 ners I the silent, you the active one. I supply the cap 
 ital, and you the brains. Ha, ha! that's good! In this 
 case a sound concern, I assure you. Well, partner, let's 
 proceed. So the old fellow was suspicious, was he? As 
 soon as he came into the house, of course he asked who that 
 strange man was that he saw going out of the lane. Eh?" 
 
 She nodded assent, her face slightly averted lest he 
 should see the look of confusion and apprehension upon 
 it. She was deeply excited, though she forced her will to 
 the utmost to keep herself outwardly calm, aiding herself 
 in this by pressing her hands firmly together as they lay 
 in her lap. Yet, despite her efforts at control, her reason 
 ing powers for the moment seemed submerged in the 
 sea of vague fears and more definite suspicions that swept 
 over her mind. She felt certain Slade had planned some 
 wicked scheme, to succeed in which he was confidently 
 relying upon her aid. What could this scheme be? 
 Was it against her, or her mistress, or the boy, or all 
 three of them? She hesitated more than ever now what 
 she should further say to him how much or how little to 
 tell him. But out of all this tumult of ideas came, clear 
 as an inspiration, the great necessity of gaining his confi 
 dence. She must learn, if possible, his future plans. 
 Safety, if safety there could be, lay only in this course. 
 
 "Come, come! Let your scheming brain rest a mo 
 ment," he said with a laugh that had something of a 
 menace in it. " It will be time enough for you to think 
 how you can head me off when you know what I want to 
 do. But," with a sudden air of seriousness in voice and 
 manner, "I am not much afraid of your opposition, Aziel. 
 I imagine you will act in this matter as I wish you to," 
 leaning nigher to her, until his face was so close to her 
 own that she felt his breath upon her cheek. "You will 
 run no risk with me, I am sure." 
 
 Each of these last words was accompanied by a slow, 
 emphatic shake of the head, and poured with sibilant 
 whispers into her very ear. He smiled complacently at 
 the effect of what he had said. Drawing now slightly 
 away from her, he looked at her over his shoulder and
 
 132 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 silently regarded her with an expression of triumph, 
 whose possibilities of evil, had she seen it, would have 
 made her far more fearful of him than she even now was. 
 She was not looking at him. Her head had fallen upon 
 her breast, as if struck down there by this man who had 
 thus spoken to her. Her hands rapidly twined about 
 each other in a nervous, passionate clasp that drove every 
 vestige of blood from them, leaving them white as the 
 pale face above, the pallor of whose cheeks was reflected 
 on the lips pressed under the set teeth. Xow one hand 
 groped about her heart a motion of hers he remembered 
 well and then she gave a sigh, followed quickly by a 
 groan, and then a little burst of helpless tears. 
 
 "There, there! Don't cry on so small a provocation," 
 he said with a faint touch of compassion in his tone he 
 certainly did not feel, judging by the exulting smile. 
 " Save your tears for greater sorrows, and for fears more 
 worthy of them. You understand me, I see, and that is 
 all that is necessary for mutual safety, although, to be 
 honest, I must confess safety if that is the word to use 
 instead of happiness affects you in this affair more than 
 it possibly could me. One who has nothing to lose has 
 little to fear, you know. But come, drv your eyes," giv 
 ing his hands a little clap with affected gayety ; " it's only 
 an April shower, after all. Kever fear that you and I 
 shall fall out. Equal partners share and share alike. Ah 
 ha ! Let's go back to business now. So the old cur 
 mudgeon tried to find out who I was? Commendable 
 curiosity on his part, I am sure. People should alwavs 
 make sure as possible of the character of their visitors. 
 Did he ask you or Mrs. Slade that was as to the identity 
 of yours truly ?" 
 
 "He questioned me," she replied, more composed now, 
 though her voice still trembled. "She had gone to her 
 room when he came home." 
 
 " Egad ! I should say she would, to judge from her con 
 dition when I left her. She didn't look much like the 
 devoted" wife waiting to greet her husband on the threshold 
 of their happy home. Two loving husbands ! Xo won 
 der her cup of bitterness was full. So you were the 
 opaque medium through which he received impressions of
 
 WHAT THE BIRDS MIGHT HAVE HEARD. 133 
 
 my identity ! Well, how did you dispose of me ? I hope 
 you told'him who I was?" 
 
 " No, I did not," she said, Falteringly, stumbling at her 
 words as she went. " I thought, at least, you acted as if 
 you did not want him to know " 
 
 " Pshaw ! that's where you were mistaken. Of course 
 T want him to know who I am, and the sooner the better 
 for all concerned and for my purpose especially. Well, 
 who did you tell him I was ?" 
 
 "My brother, just returned from California;" and a 
 blush swept over her face, as if she would have concealed 
 this deception from her listener had she been able. 
 
 " Your brother !" He laughed contemptuously. " Why, 
 woman, you might have known he would not believe that. 
 All' the circumstances pointed to the contrary. However, 
 let this mistake pass now. It in no way affects my plans 
 our plans, I should say, for you and 1, as I said before, 
 are to work together. Have you been able to guess, while 
 we have been sitting here, what my intentions are, or what 
 scheme has suggested itself to me in which you could aid 
 me?" 
 
 She shook her head negatively. A lassitude had come 
 upon her, a feeling of passiveness, the reaction doubtless 
 of her overstrained nerves, which she felt had now suc 
 cumbed to the power of his superior will. 
 
 "I will tell you, then," he went on, "both my object 
 and my plans for attaining it. To be frank, my object is 
 money ; and to be franker, my plan is to get it out of that 
 highly-benevolent individual your present master, and 
 the husband of Mrs. Slade that was. I see already, by 
 your looks, you think this impossible. Wait until I un 
 fold the details of my plan, and you will say it does jus 
 tice to my shrewdness of other days. I have learned that 
 old Gagger is a very jealous as well as a very mean man. 
 Is that "so?" 
 
 " Yes, he is jealous, but more jealous of his money than 
 anything else. He is very close in all his dealings very 
 saving in his way of living. He is a very grasping and 
 miserly old man. I am afraid you will not get any money 
 out of him. He never gives away so much as a cent even 
 in charity " 
 
 12
 
 134 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " Oh, bother his meanness !" he interrupted with a snap 
 of his fingers. " I don't care for that, so long as lie is 
 jealous. That's the part of the mine for us to work 
 that's the lead to follow; and the more jealousy we find, 
 the richer will be the return for our labors. Eh, Aziel ?" 
 
 " I do not understand you/' she said, looking up at him 
 with an expression of genuine bewilderment. 
 
 " Do not comprehend me yet, and you a woman !" 
 slightly elevating his brows. "Then I will explain still 
 further, and plainly, too. This man has my wife. By 
 law I can reclaim her within six months. Xow, if he 
 wants to keep her, he must pay me for her, and pay me 
 handsomely. You understand that, don't you? It's plain 
 English, and susceptible, I think, of only one construction." 
 
 " If this be your plan for getting money out of him. it 
 will surely fail," she said with a slowly-swaying negative 
 motion of her head. 
 
 "Oh no, it will not fail," he put in with a confident 
 laugh that slightly startled her, " because you and she will 
 not let it fail." 
 
 " We !" she exclaimed. " What can we do ?" 
 
 " Do ! Why everything, in fact. Bless your black, 
 staring eyes ! you and she are my right and left bowers in 
 this game. You must make the odd points sure in the 
 score, even if you do not take every trick. You could 
 take all the tricks if you would only play the game with 
 keenness and with spirit. Listen now, and tell me what 
 is easier done than this. I keep out of sight altogether, 
 while you two women proceed to excite his jealousy in 
 every way possible. First you make an honest confession, 
 and tell him that I the man he saw in the lane am the 
 husband of prior right; that I have come back to claim 
 my wife, and that I am desperately and devotedly in 
 love with her, and would sooner die than see her the wife 
 of another man. She, on the other hand, must tell him 
 how much she hates me that will be easily told by her, 
 I guess and how devotedly attached she is to him. And 
 she can easily make him believe that by practicing on 
 him every semblance of love her woman's wit can suggest. 
 She mu^st coax, and humor, and flatter, and wheedle, and 
 cajole, and fondle, and caress, and kiss him, until the old
 
 WHAT THE BIRDS MIGHT HAVE HEARD. ' 135 
 
 fool cries out in his joy that no man was ever so loved 
 before. Once having made him believe this, you and she 
 can then use him for my purpose. You can between you 
 so arouse his jealousy of me, and inflame his fears lest I 
 may yet, as you have so often suggested, tear her away 
 from him, that he will be willing yes, and anxious, too 
 to pav me handsomely to give up my legal rights to 
 her. But how am I, the devoted first husband, to be thus 
 approached ? Who would have the baseness or the temer 
 ity to offer me gold in exchange for my precious wife. 
 Nothing easier. I have one vice intemperance. When 
 under the influence of liquor, I am approached by some 
 legal representative of the parties in interest, and in a mo 
 ment of wild delirium, at the sight of five thousand dol- 
 lars-*-the price of relinq irishmen t I sign the paper that 
 parts me for ever from her I loved and worshiped. The 
 next day I leave the country, never again to return, bear 
 ing in my bosom the heart that nevermore shall beat with 
 love's responsive throb. Ah, Aziel, woman can never 
 know the depth of a man's love ! By the by, if I should 
 die before you, just have that sentiment put on my tomb 
 stone, will you ? Well, now you have heard my plan, 
 what say you? You will help me work it out?" 
 
 "I don't see how I can help you," she said, after a long 
 silence, during which he had risen to his feet and was 
 pacing slowly up and down in front of her, his eyes at 
 every turn bent upon her face. " She never would con 
 sent to such a plan. I would not dare tell her of it. 
 You know how proud she is. She would not humble 
 herself even to a king, much less to this old man, who 
 never has so little as a civil word or look for her. But 
 even if she would humble herself to him and do as you 
 suggest, it would still fail of getting you his money. I 
 only wish," she went on, her voice deepening with earn 
 estness and taking on a pleading tone, "that you knew 
 him as well as we do. I tell you truly he would part 
 with anything sooner than his money friends, relatives, 
 wife. Yes, I really believe he values life itself less than 
 he does gold and silver." 
 
 " Well, where differs he in that respect from the rest of 
 the world ? Do we not see everywhere virtue, glory and
 
 136 (.V IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 honor sacrificed to riches? Talk of love being the all- 
 absorbing passion! Bah! It's coldness indeed to gold, 
 Avhich can .seduce a saint or make a devil of a seraph. 
 Yes, Aziel, let us be honest, and acknowledge the fact 
 that the race of man is the race after wealth ; and I am 
 free to confess that like the rest of mankind I myself am 
 after money, and like them do not object to devious meth 
 ods of obtaining it, provided the aforesaid methods are 
 known only to myself, or, as in this case, to a couple of 
 intimate friends. So you think she will refuse to aid me? 
 I guess not, when you shall tell her, for me, that the al 
 ternative of her refusal will be my compelling her to come 
 back to live with me. I think the bare suggestion of that 
 delightful contingency will make her humble her majesty 
 to somebody considerably less than a king, to nse your 
 royal allusion ; and as for your aid, Aziel, you will see 
 that your mistress does as I wish, when the failure on 
 your part to successfully influence her will involve dis 
 closures thus far safely hidden through years of constant 
 watchfulness by you, not me disclosures which, if once 
 made, would cause three hearts to ache and you know 
 one of those hearts would not be mine." 
 
 AVith a half-audible laugh midway between a sneer and 
 a menace he turned slowly on his heel and walked aim 
 lessly about the little clearing, tossing up the leaves with 
 his foot, regarding her now and then with a careless look, 
 as if her reply was a matter of indifference, so sure was 
 he of the desired result. But only for a moment did the 
 woman sit quietly there, her dazed face hidden in her 
 hands, where it had fallen as she cowered away from him 
 while he was speaking these last words. This final threat 
 of his, as its full meaning, obscured at first, now flashed 
 fully revealed through her mind, had a strange effect upon 
 her, entirely changing her manner toward him. She was 
 no longer passive. She rose quickly to her feet, and ran 
 to him with her arms outstretched and her face white with 
 an agony of entreaty, making every feature rigid. 
 
 "Oh, you would not be so cruel !" she cried, catching 
 hold of his arm with a grasp that told well how firm her 
 nerves were 'now. " Oh, say you would not! Promise 
 me that much, I beg of you! It is all I ask in return for
 
 WHAT THE BIRDS MIGHT HAVE HEARD. 137 
 
 what I have done for you. Do promise me you will not 
 do! do! do!" 
 
 The tears falling fast, she pressed nearer to him, her 
 face closely upturned to his own. He seemed for the in 
 stant to relent a little, for he laid his hand gently on her 
 forehead, and looked down into her glistening eyes with 
 something of compassion in his gaze. But this change 
 in his manner soon passed away.' He slowly took away 
 his hand and said, as an expression more cynical than 
 stern came over his face, 
 
 "When a man comes to the conclusion that no one, not 
 even those who professed to love him, cares for him that 
 it makes very little difference to them whether he lives or 
 dies, is sick or well, hungry or fed " 
 
 "No, no ! you cannot say that of me," she crie;l with a 
 little gush of eagerness, putting her hands with something 
 like a caress upon his shoulders. "You know I have 
 always done the best I could. What more, indeed, could 
 I have done? Tell me, was I not faithful to you when 
 to be so was to crush my very heart?" 
 
 Her words at once softened him. Whatever it was 
 she alluded to, it certainly brought back to his memory 
 thoughts tender and sad; for thus he spoke, holding her 
 out gently at arm's length and regarding her with a vary 
 ing expression of regret and admiration : 
 
 "True, true is every word you say. You have indeed 
 always been faithful to me. Ah ! if we only could have 
 the past to go over again, we would not be standing here, 
 both thinking, as I am sure you are, of what might have 
 been had I never met that woman. She was our ruin 
 the evil spirit that crossed our path, the shadow that fell 
 for ever on our lives. Ah ! precious days were they, 
 Aziel, when you and I had never heard of her happy, 
 precious days !" 
 
 He ceased speaking, his voice dying away in a murmur 
 as memory now flooded his soul with the soft light of days 
 long since forgotten. His head drooping, he touched, un 
 consciously perhaps, her forehead with a gentle kiss. A 
 soft pressure of the lips it was, more like a parting bene 
 diction on the dead face of the loved than the tremulous 
 kiss of hesitating love. Her head ere this had fallen 
 
 12*
 
 138 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 upon his shoulder, and her eyes had closed themselves in a 
 mist of tears, whether happy or sorrowful she knew not. 
 A strange restful ness of mind, despite the agitation his 
 recent words had caused, came stealing over her with a 
 dreamy forgetfulness of time and place. How wondrous- 
 ly tranquil her bosom, heaving more calmly with subsid 
 ing emotion ! Her head lay upon his breast, over his 
 throbbing heart her heart then and now perhaps ! She 
 felt the kiss he gave her. It did not startle her as it 
 would have done a few months ago. It pervaded her 
 soul like the subtle incense of flowers, lulling her to rest, 
 sweet rest at last, yet brief at very longest. 
 
 How it happened that this spell of enchantment was so 
 rudely broken she could never tell herself. She only knew 
 that in some mysterious way she was startled into the full 
 consciousness of where she was and what she was doing. 
 The next instant she had snatched her cheeks, hot with 
 confusion, from his breast, closed her eyes to his gaze, 
 tender as of old, and torn herself away from his arms. 
 Then, as he spoke to her kindly and sought to detain her 
 with a slight hold, she had turned from him and fled out 
 of the woods into the main road, where she flew along, 
 not once looking back until she had reached the village 
 street. Then, seeing he was not following her, she fell 
 into a slow pace and bent all her remaining energies to 
 calming herself. This she found impossible just now, 
 and fearing to risk an interview with Bader Craft in her 
 present agitation, she drew her veil more closely about 
 her face, and turned into a cross-road which would lead 
 her back to her home by a longer way than she had come. 
 As for him, he stood where she had so abruptly left him, 
 his arms slowly folded across his breast, his lips firmly 
 set, and his eyes riveted upon her until she was out of 
 sight. 
 
 "It is strange," he muttered, "that she should still af 
 fect me in this manner. I thought that seven years' sepa 
 ration would have wrought a change in either her or me. 
 I know not why it is that when we are alone she works 
 such a spell upon me. Somehow, when she talks and acts 
 as she did just now, I feel myself another man, with dif 
 ferent thoughts and feelings awakened within me, as if
 
 IN WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. 139 
 
 from the sleep of the dead. But pshaw !" with a toss of 
 his head and a cynical smile; " what's the use of giving 
 time to maudlin thoughts? I cannot live on sentiment. 
 Life is real, as the poet says, and no one has had move 
 numerous proofs of its realities than I have. It's each 
 man for himself, despite the cry of universal brotherhood, 
 and even crime, provided it is not detected, is a quicker 
 road to success, if not a surer one, than virtue. So, Seth, 
 my boy," tapping himself significantly on the breast, 
 "drop sentiment and attend to business. Better be with 
 out sentiment than without money; and to save money 
 by the slow and uncertain process of labor, and by the 
 rules of honest acquisition, is not suited to your disposi 
 tion, Seth, or your peculiarity of genius;" and flinging out 
 his amis with a chuckling laugh, he took his way deepen' 
 into the woods. Here, in a sunny spot that promised him 
 perfect immunity from observation or discovery, he sat 
 down and began to more thoroughly systematize his plan 
 of operations. As he thought intently how best to ac 
 complish his purposes it was evident, from the evil smiles 
 that played over his features, that he was not maturing 
 the faint aspirations after a better life which the recent 
 words and presence of the woman had for the instant 
 stirred in his breast. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN WHICH VIBES REVEALS HIMSELF. 
 
 bar-room of the Green Tree Inn was at the pres- 
 _L ent time without any appearance of life save that 
 represented by its presiding genius, Bill Dibbs, with his 
 pet mocking-bird dozing in a cage by the window. This 
 morning, though it was within a few moments of his 
 happiest hour dinner-time Dibbs had not his usual 
 smile of happy content upon his face, but it bore instead 
 an anxious, thoughtful look, such as was habitual to him 
 M'hen alone. He was, as he would himself have expressed 
 it, deeply meditating evidently one moment presenting
 
 140 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 difficult problems to his mind, and the next instant trying 
 to solve them. He had come out from behind the bar 
 now, and, with eyebrows contracted, was measured ly 
 walking up and down in front of the counter, his coat- 
 lapels flung carelessly back, his thumbs in the arm-holes 
 of his vest, his fingers, extended in a regimental line, 
 pressed upon his breast, and his head inclined slightly 
 forward. This was an attitude of mental absorption 
 which he had copied after Rader Craft, Esq.'s, consequen 
 tial manner in his office when a client was consulting 
 him on an important case. Now, abruptly coming to a 
 halt, after the style of this self-same lawyer. Dibbs whirled 
 upon his heels, fixed his eves with a stern glare upon the 
 pitcher of water, at which, in lieu of a client, he pointed 
 his fore-finger with an overawing look, and muttered, as 
 he had heard Craft do in similar cases, 
 
 " Your story, sir, is very strange, mysterious, impossible 
 I may say incredible, sir! But it shall be investigated, 
 substantiated or falsified. Mark me, sir, probed to the 
 very bottom ! If true, sir, you have a remedy ; if false 
 in any particular, then," lowering his voice, "with due 
 regard to the natural bias of an interested individual, we 
 will omit that particular in the presentation of our case. 
 The law, sir, with a humanity and justice all its own, 
 gives us entire control of our testimony and the method 
 of presenting it. 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury," continued Dibbs, in a 
 burst of forensic eloquence after the style of his model, 
 spreading out his arms until they embraced in their benev 
 olent sweep the entire row of bottles, gilt-lettered and with 
 silver-plated stoppers, on the back-shelf, "the case, briefly 
 stated, is this: A stranger comes suddenly, alone and at 
 night to the Green Tree Inn. He tells not his name; he 
 states not his errand. He first takes a drink with the 
 gentleman who elevates the decanters of the splendidly- 
 equipped saloon of that establishment. Then, having by 
 this means as lie supposes ingratiated himself into the 
 good feelings of the elevating individual aforesaid, he pro-, 
 ceeds to deliver himself of sundry questions. Sundry 
 questions, I sav, gentlemen, but they all bear with a 
 strange coincidence upon the inmates of the residence of
 
 IN WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. 141 
 
 Silas Gagger, and especially mark it well, gentlemen ! 
 upon the wife of that most estimable freeholder and 
 highly-respected and beloved citizen of Slow vi lie. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, I beg you to follow me carefully, 
 and mark the next step in this domestic drama. Having 
 gained all necessary information for his base purposes, 
 this mysterious stranger left the Green Tree Inn under the 
 pretext ay, gentlemen, and with his own declaration 
 that he was going to the Lyceum or the village mart, 
 and would return again and pass the slumbers of the 
 night beneath the hospitable roof of the Green Tree Inn. 
 But, gentlemen, he neither visited the places aforesaid, 
 nor returned to the hostelry, with its inviting saloon, over 
 which our esteemed fellow-townsman, William Dibbs, 
 Esq., .has the honor of presiding. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury, where did this man go? Into 
 whose house, I ask you, did he enter with stealthy step, 
 and from whose fair brow and cheeks did he drive the 
 crimson tide of beauty and make her face whiter than the 
 marble of Diana's temple? Would that I might draw 
 the veil of secrecy here, but the cause of my client and 
 the demands of justice compel me to go on to the sad and 
 bitter end. 
 
 " Why, gentlemen, why did this mysterious stranger ask 
 questions that bore almost entirely upon the whereabouts 
 and present status of Mrs. Silas Gagger, the beautiful and 
 accomplished wife of one of our most generous and ad 
 mired citizens? What was his secret purpose? What 
 his hidden object? AVhat his sinister scheme? 
 
 "Ah, gentlemen, there is a serpent in every field, no 
 matter how green its sward basks in the sunshine ; there 
 is a bee in every flower, no matter how sweetly it smells 
 upon the pulsing summer air. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," lowering his voice, as dismal 
 as the solemnity of his face, to a hoarse whisper, "this 
 mysterious stranger is the serpent whose slimy form we, 
 see trailing itself through blooming flowers and verdant 
 grass toward the happy home on yonder hill. He, gentle 
 men, is the bee that seeks, in his straight and arrowy 
 flight, the matrimonial flower which blooms in the garden 
 of our respected friend seeks it, gentlemen, only to leave
 
 142 AS IT MAY JIAPPEX. 
 
 his sharp and bitter sting behind a sting that hath the 
 poison of death in its lain test touch. Ay, gentlemen, and 
 the poison lias already, in one brief night, begun its work 
 of ruin and decay. Hardly has the beginning of day gilded 
 the eastern horizon ere my dishonored client, who now 
 presents his sad case to you for your consideration and 
 judgment, leaves his home, upon which misery worse than 
 all the thousand woes of earth has fallen, and goes out 
 into the world with his love betrayed, his honor made a 
 mockery, his heart broken, and his crushed soul bleeding 
 itself away. 
 
 "Ah, gentlemen, old age in distress is always a pitiable 
 spectacle, melting even adamantine hearts to tears, but the 
 saddest of all sights is an old man driven out into the 
 cold, heartless and cruel world, robbed of his wife, his 
 home and every joy his aged heart holds dear an old 
 man homeless, wifeless, betrayed, robbed and deserted ! 
 Pardon my emotion, gentlemen." 
 
 Here, Dibbs, turning aside his head and covering his face 
 with his hand, took out his handkerchief and slowlv wiped 
 his eyes, trembling all the while from head to foot with 
 visible agitation. In a few moments he seemed to have 
 sufficiently recovered himself to go on with his appeal. 
 
 He turned slowly around to the jury, his eyes still 
 lowered. Clearing his throat of its huskiness, he blow a 
 reviving blast upon his nose, gave himself a reassuring 
 shake all over, thrust the handkerchief into his coat-tail 
 pocket, pulled up his coat-sleeves some six inches above 
 his wristbands, finally ran one hand through his bristling 
 hair, and, for the first time since this affecting outburst 
 of emotion, now raised his eyes to the imaginary jury 
 namely, the dozen or thereabouts of bottles, which seemed 
 to have maintained a strangely stolid indifference to his 
 appeals during this affecting oratorical scene. 
 
 But as Dibbs slowly lifted his eyes, as if to note the 
 effect of his exordium, they fell with blank surprise upon 
 the form and features of Eader Craft himself, who at this 
 moment opened the door at the rear of the bar, and now 
 stood facing the orator. 
 
 "That was very well done, Mr. Dibbs," said the lawyer 
 with his ever-bland smile as he closed the door behind
 
 IN WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. H3 
 
 him and advanced to where the young man stood, confused 
 and almost frightened. " I had no idea you had so good 
 a memory or such wonderful powers of imitation. As I 
 stood outside the door yonder and listened to you, I could 
 almost fancy I heard my own voice and words in the 
 great divorce case of Fox vs. Fox, which I argued this 
 summer. In fact, I did recognize the thoughts as well as 
 the peculiar construction of the sentences, and most of the 
 phraseology. May I ask," with a gracious wave of the 
 hand and a patronizing expression in the bland smile, 
 "how and where and why you committed them to mem 
 ory? I feel very much complimented by your so doing, 
 I assure you." 
 
 Dibbs, quickly perceiving that the lawyer was in no 
 ways offended, but, on the contrary, rather pleased, as 
 readily changed his manner to that of his usual freedom 
 and confidence when talking with this man. 
 
 " So," he said with a bland smile very like the other's, 
 "you are desirous of informing yourself how and where 
 and why I committed to memory your celebrated peroration 
 in the renowned case of Fox vs. Fox? How did I com 
 mit it? By the aid of a memory as flexible as it is tena 
 cious, I conveyed it from the columns of the Slowville 
 Patriot to the everlasting palimpsest of my own brain. 
 Where did I commit it? Where else, honored sir, save 
 behind yonder humble bar, when I caught the fleeting 
 moments as they sped by day, or, stretched on yonder 
 miserable pallet, conned them over beneath the darkness 
 of the night, that flew too swiftly for my thoughts." 
 
 " Why, Dibbs, you are eloquence personified this morn 
 ing," said Craft with a condescending motion of his head 
 as he patted the young man on the shoulder. 
 
 And there was a trace of wonder in his face that even 
 the smile could not conceal. 
 
 "Why did I commit it?" went on Dibbs, paying no 
 heed to the interrupting compliment. "Because, sir," lay 
 ing his hand upon his breast with a modest bow, "I ad 
 mired it for the rare simplicity of its style and the subtle 
 harmony of its periods. I tell you, Mr. Craft," suddenly 
 warming up and his eyes kindling, "that was a wonderful 
 exhibition of eloquence! I was in the court-room when
 
 144 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 you delivered that argument, and every time you finished 
 one of those long sentences I could see the jurymen bend 
 their heads in approval, just as regularly as if they were 
 toy-men all pulled by one string. Yes, yes ! that was a 
 great speech a magnificent specimen of special pleading!" 
 
 Dibbs, as if overpowered by the recollection, suddenly 
 ceased speaking, and crossing his arms stood silently gazing 
 at his companion with profound esteem. 
 
 " I see I have a sincere admirer and a firm friend in 
 you," said the lawyer, speaking slowly and with emphasis, 
 "and I can truly say I reciprocate your feelings." Then, 
 after an impressive pause, " William Dibbs you are a young 
 man of no ordinary abilities. I am astonished at this ex 
 hibition of your oratorical and linguistic powers. They 
 indeed surprise me beyond adequate expression." 
 
 " Whatever, honored sir, I am, I am indebted to your 
 example and encouragement for it," spoke Dibbs with ready 
 frankness and a humble bow, his hand pressed upon his 
 heart. 
 
 " Indebted to me !" exclaimed the lawyer. " Explain 
 yourself. This is a surprise." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I am indebted for it all to you. Mr. Craft, 
 when you appeared in this town, five years ago, I said to 
 myself, as soon as I heard your first speech in court, 
 'There is the man I would like to be.' Such language 
 as you employed I had never heard before. Such gestures 
 I had never beheld. Your whole style, your comprehen 
 sive vocabulary, your graceful attitudes, and the musical 
 modulations of your voice, captivated me, honored sir, 
 beyond expression ; and from that day to this I have 
 been studying and imitating you." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Craft, settling himself in a chair 
 and regarding his companion with a look of surprise that 
 struggled with the bland smile for supremacy. "In what 
 respect have you studied and imitated me? This is a very 
 interesting revelation, and a pleasing one too. We can 
 pay no greater compliment to a person than to adopt him 
 as an example." 
 
 "That compliment, I trust, you will recognize in my 
 humble self," said Dibbs. " First, as to general appear 
 ance," stepping in front of his companion and proudly
 
 JxV WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. 145 
 
 squaring himself for exhibition in detail. " Note my face 
 clean-shaved and smooth like your own. Do you per 
 ceive, also, the arrangement of my hair? cut closely, and 
 without part on either side or in the back." 
 
 Dibbs, bending over, rapidly whirled his head around 
 until he had brought to view its entire surface. Then he 
 made it resume its upright position, thrusting his fingers 
 through the forelock, and causing it to stand up straight 
 and tall as a miniature sheaf of wheat. 
 
 "Your hair is certainly trimmed N and worn like my own," 
 said Craft, " though I must confess that until this present 
 moment the fact had escaped my notice." 
 
 "After all, this tonsorial similarity is only a trivial af 
 fair," resumed Dibbs with a dismissing wave of his hand. 
 " It 'is the apparel, as Shakespeare says, that oft proclaims 
 ihe man. And if you glance ever so casually at my tout 
 ensemble, as the French describe it, you will see, honored 
 sir, the rejection of your own excellent taste and judgment. 
 Behold," rapidly pointing to each article indicated, " mv 
 standing collar, the points meeting in front; my small 
 black silk tie ; my plain bosom, without pleat or ruffle, 
 with its plain gold studs, and only two of them visible ; 
 my modest watch-guard of black twilled silk ; the simple 
 gold ring on my little finger ; my suit of dark clothes 
 nothing peculiar about them, and cut in a style individual 
 though general, and so quiet as not to be noticeable ; my 
 boots, square-toed ; and my hat on yonder peg, a stiff black 
 felt, with a broad brim. Tell me, honored sir, is not my 
 appearance an exact epitome of your own illustrious self?" 
 
 "It is indeed," replied the lawyer, briefly surveying 
 his own apparel and comparing it with that of Dibbs. 
 " Strange that I never noticed this before ! How long 
 have you been dressing in this way ?" 
 
 " I approached this style by degrees," rejoined Dibbs, 
 straightening the bow of his tie. "To have suddenly 
 adopted it would have attracted public attention and pro 
 voked criticism, that, coming to your illustrious ears, 
 might have been unpleasant to your honored self." 
 
 " A very commendable an exceedingly commendable 
 prudence on your part," was the complimentary remark 
 of the lawyer, accompanied by a smile no less approving. 
 
 13 K
 
 146 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "Your cautious procedure in the matter also evidences 
 that you possess a rare knowledge of human nature, its 
 methods of thought and ways of judgment. But inform 
 me : has no one here in Slowville remarked as yet the 
 similarity between your attire and mine?" 
 
 "A few persons have recently alluded to it in my 
 presence." 
 
 " What did they say ?" 
 
 " That depended upon whether they were your enemies 
 or your friends. Men's opinions are always biased by 
 their prejudices." 
 
 With a profound shake of his head worthy of this 
 oracular utterance, Dibbs bent an expressive look upon 
 his companion. 
 
 " I did not know I had an enemy in all this neighbor 
 hood," said the lawyer in a half soliloquy. 
 
 "Success always brings enemies," spoke the firm voice 
 of Dibbs. "Does Death love a shining mark ? t So does 
 calumny. Ah, revered sir, jealousy is the assassin that 
 ever, with slow and stealthy step, follows behind the toil 
 some ascent of merit." 
 
 " True, true !" heavily sighed the other. " Little re 
 liance can be placed on earthly friendship. Young man, 
 your utterances are. those of a philosopher. I must con 
 fess my amazement. Plow has it been possible for you, in 
 your obscure position here, to gain such a knowledge of 
 human nature as I see you possess ?" 
 
 "Mr. Craft," said Dibbs, throwing out one foot a little 
 in advance and inserting his thumb in the arm-hole of his 
 vest, " the knowledge that best serves a man in this world 
 is not obtained from books. Learning, I grant, is of 
 value to all men, but the knowledge of men and things is 
 of more value, for it alone is wisdom. It is the eyes and 
 the ears, honored sir, which are the great and natural edu 
 cators of the mind. A wise man's eyes see aright, his ears 
 hear correctly. The eyes and ears of your humble ser 
 vant have always been kept open wide open ; shut only, 
 honored sir, when slumber's chains, to use the poet's phrase, 
 have bound them." 
 
 " You have been a close observer, then, of the people 
 with whom you have come in contact? You have studied
 
 IN WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. 147 
 
 their characters, noting their peculiarities of speech and 
 manner and drawing your conclusions therefrom?" 
 
 " The case concisely stated," said Dibbs with something 
 of a lofty flourish of his disengaged hand. " And I can 
 imagine no better opportunity to study human nature 
 than that afforded me in this very apartment. Here I 
 learn to adapt myself to every phase of character, being 
 all things to all men that I may the better investigate 
 their failings and weaknesses. Why, my illustrious sir, 
 trivial as the test may seem to one of your enlarged views, 
 I can tell by the manner in which a man takes a drink 
 and pays for it whether he be a liberal man or a mean 
 one air honest man or a dishonest one. The test is an 
 infallible one, honored sir infallible as the law of grav 
 itation." 
 
 " Pray go on, and tell me how you accomplish such a 
 result. I confess that I am more than usually interested 
 in this conversation. You are dawning upon me as some 
 thing of a genius." 
 
 "Begging your pardon, Mr. Craft, there is no genius 
 about it. It is only the practical application of common 
 sense. When a man fills his glass nearly to the top with 
 the raw liquor, I know before I look into his face that he 
 is a mean man, and a dishonest man-^-too mean to pay in 
 full for all the liquor he. wants, or else he would separate 
 his one drink into two, and pay for them accordingly. 
 Dishonest, too, for he knows that it is contrary to commer 
 cial as well as moral law for a man to drink by the whole 
 sale and pay by the retail." 
 
 The lawyer's smile broadened and deepened, then 
 merged into a long and hearty laugh of approval more 
 complimentary to Dibbs than any words he could have 
 spoken. Then he leaned forward in his chair ; and com 
 posing his face into something like judicial gravity, he 
 said, 
 
 " My young friend, you have made to me a most unex 
 pected and astonishing revelation of your abilities. I 
 reiterate my former remark you are a genius. Your 
 whole conversation indicates rare powers of mind, intel 
 lectual and analytical. You are not in your proper 
 sphere, Dibbs. You ought to be a lawyer, and I am
 
 148 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 very much inclined, without further reflection, so convinced 
 am I of the truth of my opinion, to offer you a place in 
 my office, where you could properly expand your genius 
 and become something worthy of ^*our present promise. 
 With proper training you have a bright future. "What 
 say you to being a student in my office? You can per 
 form clerical duties for me, which will enable you to 
 support yourself until you are admitted to practice. 
 "When once you are a lawyer, I shall have no fears for 
 your pronounced success." 
 
 " Words are inadequate to express my profound grati 
 tude," replied Dibbs, bowing low ; " but I must respect 
 fully decline your generous offer. I have made 'up my 
 mind as to my course in life, and it is not the practice or 
 the profession of law, honorable and ennobling though 
 they both are." 
 
 ''May I ask what it is?" 
 
 " Most assuredly, honored sir. I intend to be a politi 
 cian. That's the profession in which 1 can rise the easiest, 
 and in which," with a knowing wink, "I can make the 
 most money with the least trouble." 
 
 " A politician !" exclaimed the lawyer, slowly empha 
 sizing eacli syllable. "How can you become a politician? 
 Certainly not here m Slowville, with so many ahead of 
 you in social position and standing." 
 
 "Of course not. I know my proper field of action. 
 Politicians thrive best in cities, where the caucuses and the 
 polls are left wjiolly to their manipulation. To a city I 
 intend to betake myself ere long, leaving this country grave 
 yard far behind me." 
 
 " To what city?" asked Craft, repressing a smile. 
 
 " To Philadelphia or New York; it matters not which 
 to me. Either of them affords a wide scope and a bound 
 less field for a politician's ambition. You may laugh." 
 noticing the other's incredulous smile, "but I am secretly 
 preparing myself every hour for such a life. Slowville 
 will one day suddenly become conscious of the fact that 
 she had once within her borders a man who toiled for 
 fame and fortune while others slept." 
 
 "What are your preparations, pray? Are you reading 
 history or studying constitutional law ?"
 
 IN WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. 149 
 
 "Not a bit of it. I am studying language just now 
 increasing my vocabulary, learning as best I can to become 
 an orator for the people. Already I have found the key 
 to success, and am mastering it. A flow of high-sounding 
 words is the main element of success in public speaking. 
 It charms because it bewilders, and impresses because it 
 confounds. Sound, not sense, sways the multutude. Give 
 me full command of the dictionary, and I will carry the 
 day against an army of arguments drawn from reason and 
 experience." 
 
 And Dibbs snapped his fingers over his shoulder with 
 a contemptuous toss of his head. 
 
 " Dibbs," said the lawyer, "I have been wondering, while 
 you were talking, how you have acquired such a command 
 over the larger words of language. It is a mystery to me. 
 You have had only a common-school education, such as 
 you could pick up here in Slowville three months in the 
 year, and yet you talk like a born linguist." 
 
 " Nothing easier, honored sir, than to acquire a volumi 
 nous vocabulary. Education, provided one desires it, is 
 only a matter of will. Labor can accomplish anything. 
 Behold the hidden and secret source of my knowledge, 
 disclosed now for the first time to you alone/' going be 
 hind the bar and taking from a shelf 'beneath it two books, 
 which he handed with great pride to the lawyer. Craft, 
 with no little astonishment depicted on his face, turned 
 over the well-worn volumes, and read the titles Webster's 
 Student's Dictionary, and Roget's Thesaurus of English 
 Wonts. 
 
 " How do you study these?" he asked. "Do you com 
 mit them to memory by the page?" 
 
 " Not at all. My procedure is less methodical, but more 
 practical, than that would be. The course I pursue is this : 
 I choose a word for investigation the word 'begin/ for 
 instance. I turn to the Dictionary, and learn the deriva 
 tion of that word, and all its definitions, primary and sec 
 ondary. Having treasured these up in my memory, I open 
 my Thesaurus, and there find the words that have a similar 
 meaning, and these I commit to memory. It is by study 
 ing language in this manner that I have acquired a vocab- 
 uiary which I feel confident, though I am but nineteen 
 
 13*
 
 150 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 years old, none of my own age can equal, and few older 
 can excel ; and, what is an equal satisfaction to me, not a 
 soul of all the common herd of Slowville has a suspicion 
 that I am in possession of this linguistic power. The full 
 ness of time for a public disclosure of my talents has not 
 yet arrived. You only share this secret with me." 
 
 "You have found a very excellent method of philologi 
 cal investigation," commented the lawyer handing him 
 back the books; "and as you desire it, I will keep the 
 secret of your acquisitions. But it appears to me you lay 
 more store by words than ideas, for which words are only 
 the vehicle of expression/' 
 
 " It's the vehicle that carries the load, not the load the 
 vehicle," quickly put in Dibbs; "and before the load can 
 be carried you must first get the vehicle. Is not that cor 
 rect logic?" 
 
 " Your argument is a sound one," rejoined the lawyer 
 after a pause, during which he had looked at his watch 
 and suddenly risen to his feet with the air of a man who 
 has too long delayed the object of his call. "Dibbs, I 
 should like to listen further to your admirable conversa 
 tion, and hope soon to have a suitable opportunity. Just 
 now I wish to engage your services in a little matter that 
 will be of a pecuniary advantage to you and a professional 
 one to me. My past experience of your valuable assist 
 ance in matters more trivial, combined with the clearer 
 insight into your ability which I have just gained, con 
 vinces me that I can implicitly trust your secrecy and 
 fidelity in the present case. To come to the point at once, 
 for fear of interruption : you remember the man you con 
 fidentially described to me this morning as coming here 
 last night and disappearing in so mysterious a manner? 
 Have you any suspicions as to who he is?" 
 
 "Yes, and suspicions evidently well founded, too," 
 said Dibbs, shaking his head with a mysterious nod, his 
 left eye half closed and the other significantly fixed on 
 his companion's face; "and judging from Mr. Silas Gag- 
 ger's manner of entering your office this morning, I am 
 free to express the opinion that he also has his sus 
 picions." 
 
 "Correct, as usual," rejoined the lawyer, laying his fat
 
 IN WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. 151 
 
 hand confidentially on the young man's shoulder ; " and, 
 Dibbs," lowering his voice to his usual tragic whisper, " I 
 want you to confirm or allay these suspicions for me as 
 soon as possible. You understand? For me." 
 
 " Your purpose in its entirety sensibly percolates my 
 receptive brain. You, the lawyer very recently retained 
 by the aggrieved party, the plaintiff hereafter mentioned, 
 wish to test my detective ability. William Dibbs is to 
 track the mysterious stranger to his hiding-place and 
 establish his identity, and reveal it to Rader Craft, Esq., 
 alone, who will make use of the information solely in a 
 professional manner, to be hereafter determined by the 
 liberality displayed by the injured husband, Mr. Silas 
 Gagger, whose supposititious cause you heard me present 
 ing* to the jury as you entered yonder door." 
 
 " Dibbs, your penetrative powers are wonderful ! You 
 are a lawyer natus, not fit born, not made. I could not 
 have described the present situation of affairs half so 
 well." 
 
 Craft rubbed his hands with such a beaming smile, so en 
 thusiastic, so encouraging, that Dibbs' eyes were fixed with 
 instant resolution, which expressed itself in the dogged 
 set of his head, the contracted brows, the threatening 
 eyes and the tightly-compressed lips. 
 
 " Dibbs," went on the lawyer with a gracious and some 
 what deferential wave of his hand, " I perceive it is better 
 I should leave you to follow the bent of your own genius 
 in this matter. Suggestions to one of your quick appre 
 hension, I feel conscious, would be superfluous. Can I 
 not already, even this instant, read success in the light 
 ning-flash of your eye? Dibbs, I reiterate my previous 
 remark : I am surprised at your singular intelligence 
 your rare capacity. You have wonderfully educated 
 yourself. You are a self-made marvel an intellectual 
 pyramid a moral sphynx." 
 
 " The mysterious stranger," said Dibbs, slowly folding 
 his arms and speaking with a dramatic voice, "shall no 
 longer be a mystery, magnifying by his secret movements the 
 danger he threatens to the peace of your honorable client. 
 Ah ha !" starting forward and throwing out his arms on 
 a line with his couching head, and fixing his eyes intently
 
 152 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 upon the wall opposite; " I see it all ! This domestic and 
 spectacular drama moves before me ever} 7 character dis 
 tinct, every act consecutive. Silas Gagger, the suspicious 
 yet cautious husband, has left his ancestral dwelling and 
 departed from the village to give free scope for the com 
 ing investigation already inaugurated by the course of 
 justice, represented by yourself. The mysterious stranger 
 must be lurking in this vicinity, watching his opportunity 
 for a stolen interview. He has already seen the husband's 
 departure, and will undoubtedly visit the farm-house to 
 night. His evil eyes e'en now do gloat over the beauty 
 of those two lovely females. Let him beware, for I 
 shall be there to watch him, hovering invisibly about his 
 path an avenging demon to him, a guardian angel to 
 them." 
 
 These words, uttered in a tone so sepulchral, sounded 
 indeed like a sentence of doom upon the disturber of 
 domestic happiness. 
 
 " Capital ! capital !" exclaimed the lawyer, giving vent 
 to an enthusiasm strangely unusual with him, by catching 
 the other's hand in both his own and heartily shaking it. 
 " With such a head as yours to direct, and a heart so bold 
 to execute, what circumstance, even unforeseen though it 
 be, could prevent our complete success? Capital ! capital ! 
 You will begin your investigations to-night?" 
 
 "My investigations in this important matter," rejoined 
 Dibbs with a polite bow, "were begun last night. I shall 
 continue them to-night with what result you shall know 
 before the midnight hour, I ween, to speak poetically 
 and precisely at the same time." 
 
 " Dibbs, my dear young fellow, you have my best wishes 
 for your success," said the lawyer, again vigorously shak 
 ing the hand of his companion ami going toward the door 
 by which he had entered. " Oh, here ! I declare, I had 
 almost forgotten it," quickly taking a letter from his 
 pocket and thrusting it into Dibbs' hand. *' Here is a let 
 ter from a client of mine to Miss Aziel Loyd. If you 
 should have an opportunity to give it to her unobserved, 
 and see her read it and note its effect upon her in her 
 looks, her expressions and her actions, and then bring 
 .to me a detailed account of vour observations, that, too,
 
 IN WHICH DIBBS REVEALS HIMSELF. 153 
 
 would be of pecuniary advantage to you, Dibbs, and of 
 professional usefulness to me. You understand ?" 
 
 "The object of speech were indeed poorly obtained 
 under the most favorable circumstances did I not compre 
 hend language so simple/' said Dibbs, deftly hiding the 
 letter in his pocket with a smile so cunning and confident 
 that Rader Craft positively felt his ponderous heart leap 
 for joy at the certainty of so soon learning the effect of 
 his loving epistle. 
 
 In fact, so bewildered was he for the moment by this 
 thrilling anticipation that he forgot the door-steps, and 
 stumbling forward fell upon the ground, whence Dibbs, 
 stifling every indication of his merriment, assisted him to 
 regain his feet. 
 
 " The law of gravitation is inexorable," smiled Dibbs. 
 " The lawyer and the client it treats alike." 
 
 "Yes," rejoined Craft, planting himself firmly on his 
 feet and trying to regain his bland smile, despite the seri 
 ous rent in his clothes. "And you might add, without 
 fear of contradiction, that in morals as well as in physics 
 it is easier to fall than to rise to fail than to succeed." 
 
 He limped away in the direction of his office, not a little 
 chagrined at the spectacle he made of himself to the 
 women in the tavern-kitchen, whose noses, pressed against 
 the window-panes, greeted him as he looked confusedly 
 around to see who might have seen him fall. 
 
 Dibbs waited until the lawyer had disappeared in his 
 sanctum ; then he went back into the bar-room, and lock- 
 ing the outer door, he betook himself, with strange slow 
 ness, to his dinner. The corned-beef and cabbage, his 
 favorite dish and no foe to his easy digestion failed to 
 put any edge upon his appetite. What was food to him, 
 when his heart was overwhelmed with the joy that, now 
 the lawyer had gone, could flash unsuspected into his eyes 
 a joy born of the anticipation of this very evening be 
 ing face to face with Aziel Loyd ? Aziel Loyd ! He 
 only breathed the name, yet he felt his heart, at even tin's 
 slight expression, bounce and thump in his breast until he 
 feared lest it should lose its proper place therein and go 
 gyrating through his entire anatomy. He ate his meal 
 with a rapidity that pleased the women, but with a silence
 
 154 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 that aggravated them. To all their questions as to who 
 had been in the bar-room that morning and what news he 
 had learned from them, and, last and most important of 
 all, what the lawyer had come for, Dibbs returned an 
 swers so short and unsatisfactory as to elicit the most em 
 phatic opinion as to his stupidity. For once he remained 
 master of both the situation and his temper, and went 
 back to his post sole possessor of his secrets and his in 
 tentions. 
 
 Once again in the bar-room, he turned the key in the 
 door that communicated with the house, and drawing down 
 the window-shades prepared to execute a little 'strategy on 
 his own part. 
 
 " Lawyers," he soliloquized as he held the letter over a 
 little jet of steam that issued from the bubbling kettle on 
 the shelf behind the bar, a are proverbial for their know 
 ledge of human nature. Of course they are the only men 
 in the world who can read character at sight. Now, Rader 
 Craft, Esq., thinks himself a shrewd reader of men, doesn't 
 he? For instance, he takes me for a noodle. Perhaps I 
 am, but not at this present speaking, I should say; for 
 perceiving this mucilage has grown soft under the tender 
 influence of this steam, I am compelled to open this letter, 
 notwithstanding the scruples a noodle is supposed to pos 
 sess. Having thus opened it, I give way to my laudable 
 curiosity, and read it." 
 
 He did so, with his chuckling face close to the sheet, 
 eager to drink in every word thereon. The first few sen 
 tences confused him. He could not get at their meaning. 
 He re-read them with a better comprehension after he had 
 examined the letter and read the closing paragraphs. It 
 was a love-letter he saw full well a love-letter to Aziel 
 Loyd written by the lawyer ; but in whose interest? The 
 question staggered him but for an instant. A jealous light 
 came into his eyes as he again perused the letter, his hands 
 shaking, his breath coming thick and fast. As he went 
 along, muttering each word, his face grew darker, for his 
 suspicions were more and more confirmed. Now, throwing 
 the letter upon the counter, he thrust both hands in his 
 hair and sank down into his chair with a great groan, to 
 which the mocking-bird responded with a sound as doleful.
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 155 
 
 " Ah, Spike, you may well groan for me !" said Dibbs, 
 looking up at the bird with a heavy sigh. "Shed tears, 
 too, if you can, for my abject misery. For what greater 
 calamity can befall a man, Spike my boy, than not only 
 loving hopelessly himself, but oh, a thousand times worse! 
 seeing the object of his undying affection about to become 
 the promised bride of another ?" 
 
 Again he covered his face with his hands and emitted 
 several groans, less violent than the first, to which the 
 bifd responded with a like decrease of animation. After 
 a silence of another moment, Dibbs rose slowly to his feet 
 with despair on every feature. He resealed the letter and 
 put it in his pocket with a savage thrust, much as he might 
 have buried a dagger there. Then he turned to Spike, 
 who was slyly blinking at him, and said, in a subdued 
 voice, 
 
 " The secret I have discovered, most noble bird, fills my 
 heart with woe. The lawyer, Spike, is my rival my deadly 
 nuptial foe! His letter here proves himself to be his own 
 client, and deeply in love with Forgive me, Spike ! I 
 cannot breathe her sacred name even to you, for she is the 
 woman the Venus de Medici I adore, ay, madly wor 
 ship ! But, Spike," speaking with sudden energy and 
 striking the counter with his fist as he spoke, "he shall 
 not have her. This very night I will file a bill in equity 
 against him that will for ever bar his suit !" 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A NIGHT'S ADVENTURES OF WILLIAM DIBBS. 
 
 IT generally falls to the lot of men to have a hopeless 
 passion once in their lives. Certainly such was the 
 case with poor Dibbs, who now spent a most melancholy 
 afternoon in analyzing both the extent of his love for 
 Aziel Loyd, and how impossible it was of fruition. Yet 
 he seemed to take a sad delight in torturing himself with 
 the infinite expansion of his love for her and the insur 
 mountability of its accomplishment.
 
 156 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "Oh, if it were only something else," he groaned, 
 walking about the bar-room, "that reared this barrier 
 between us, then might I hope. Had wealth or station, 
 parents or friends, opposed this union, then might I have 
 conquered each and all of them. But who, though he 
 love with the power of an archangel, can bring bark the 
 flight of years and make the matron a maiden again ? 
 Or who can hurry onward the slow-revolving wheel of 
 time and give to youth the prime of manhood? Alas, 
 alas, Aziel dearest Aziel !" he exclaimed, clasping liis 
 hands and looking up at the ceiling, as if she were there 
 suspended in some angelic form. " Time, that most pow 
 erful enemy of man, has separated us for ever from that 
 union of hands in which my only hope of happiness con 
 sists. The great and impassable gulf of years is between 
 us ! I cannot come to you, nor you to me !" 
 
 Dropping his linked hands in front of him, he held 
 them together in a maddened grip, and, with head thrown 
 far down upon his breast, he stalked about the room, grit 
 ting his teeth and rolling his eyes with frenzv. 
 
 While in this paroxysm of despair he chanced, as he 
 passed near the window, to lift his eyes. They fell upon 
 the form of the lawyer, who was walking with majestic 
 air down the street. 
 
 "Villain!" exclaimed Dibbs in the hoarsest of whis 
 pers, seizing a cane from the corner and bringing it to his 
 shoulder with a quick and deadly aim for, sighting along 
 the ferule, one could see it point directly to the lawyer's 
 heart "revenge prompts me to take thy warmly-flowing 
 blood to still for ever the tumultuous beating of thy 
 heart to stifle in eternal silence thy throbbing bosom, so 
 i'u 11 of love for her I worship in the long and weary day, 
 and in the longer and wearier night! But no," suddenly 
 throwing aside the cane and resuming his tragic pace; 
 " live on, mine enemy live on and know thyself what 
 it is to despair to find thy love turn to ashes in thy 
 very hands to see thyself rejected, scorned, despised, 
 the canker of unrequited love consuming for ever thine 
 unhappy soul !" 
 
 The clock and the mocking-bird here interrupted him, 
 the one by striking, the other by emitting a short whistle
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 157 
 
 for every stroke of the clock. Dibbs glanced at the 
 clock ; and seeing that it was the hour of four, he imme 
 diately set about regaining his composure, which he did 
 after several sighs and mocking laughs. Calm now, he 
 betook himself to the careful perusal of a little book 
 which he drew from his pocket. It was a manual of eti 
 quette, and, unlike most books of that kind, was written 
 by a competent person. This manual Dibbs knew almost 
 by heart; and if he were an habitue of Slowville society 
 which he was not he would, as he himself expressed 
 it, astonish the natives by his manners. But never being 
 invited to any social gathering, and being shunned by the 
 better class- of villagers because of his occupation, Dibbs 
 never had any opportunity to display his knowledge of 
 manners in the company of ladies. He had practiced 
 these forms of etiquette, nevertheless, just as he was 
 doing now, with imaginary females in the. chairs about 
 him, and he went from one chair to another with a grace 
 fulness of carriage and easy inclination of the head, drop 
 ping a compliment here and an observation there, as if 
 he were indeed a frequent guest in the highest social 
 circles, and this present circle were the highest of Slow 
 ville society. 
 
 " Good-evening, Miss Loyd," he was saying as he made 
 a bow in front of one of the chairs. "I beg pardon for 
 presenting myself, but I come at the solicitation of Rader 
 Craft, Esq., attorney and counselor-at-law, who commis 
 sioned me to bear to your most excellent self this letter," 
 which, at these words, he took from his pocket and ex 
 tended toward her with a slight inclination of his head ; 
 and then, after a pause, during which' she was supposed 
 to be reading the letter, he seated himself in a chair in 
 response to her invitation. 
 
 Holding now his hat gracefully in his hand, he entered 
 into a very animated conversation with Miss Loyd, en 
 deavoring to make it as interesting to her as possible by 
 telling all the news of the village, which he garnished in 
 his own inimitable way, so that its savor was largely in 
 creased by his spicy additions. This rehearsal being fin 
 ished to his satisfaction and during it all he had success 
 fully stifled any manifestation of his love Dibbs locked 
 
 14
 
 158 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 the bar-room ; and giving the key to the landlady, Mrs. 
 yusan Boozer, widow, who tended the bar daring his 
 absence, he went over to the lawyer's office. 
 
 The door of "The Legal Refuge" he found, as usual, 
 unlocked. He opened it and entered, and immediately set 
 about the object of Ins coming. This was to copy some 
 thing out of a certain one of the lawyer's books, which he 
 had already seized from one of the shelves, and whose 
 leaves he was rapidly turning over. He was not long in 
 finding the desired place, as a low whistle of exultation 
 indicated. And now, with a smile as cunning as any with 
 which the owner of the book had ever looked into it, 
 Dibbs copied several paragraphs on one of the lawyer's 
 sheets of brief-paper. 
 
 "This kind of writing-paper will carry judicial weight 
 as regards the contents," commented Dibbs with a chuckle 
 as he folded up his manuscript and returned the book to 
 its place. " Could any but sound law be written on a 
 lawyer's brief-paper? That would depend, perhaps, on 
 both the lawyer and the judge. But in this case there is 
 no doubt about the law at least until the next legislature 
 meets. How those wise and good men may alter it, the 
 devil only knows." 
 
 He left the office as boldly as he had entered it, and 
 sought his own room under the plain roof of the Green 
 Tree Inn. Here, by the aid of a couple of candles upon 
 the bureau, he began to prepare himself for his evening 
 call, with a scrupulous attention to every detail which 
 might well have become a groom upon his nuptial morn 
 ing. As he donned each article of carefully-selected ap 
 parel he hummed a ditty, now gay, now mournful, one 
 moment chided and another applauded himself, sighing 
 and groaning, and smiling and laughing, by turns, accord 
 ing to the current of his thoughts, which were an odd 
 commingling of love and jealousy, ambition and cunning, 
 hope and despair, joy and fear. 
 
 u William Dibbs," he soliloquized, putting a little dash 
 of perfumery upon his handkerchief and surveying him 
 self with an air of satisfaction, "I am proud to say you 
 look like a gentleman, and that is more than can be said 
 of many who make exertions in that direction. If clean-
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 159 
 
 liness is next to godliness, there is also much of the saint 
 in your present appearance. Ah, Aziel !" with a sigh, as 
 he gave a finishing touch of precision to his necktie, " if 
 you were only entering the path of youth, or I meander 
 ing along the highway of manhood, what joy might be 
 our heavenly lot in this dreary world, where the phantom 
 of bliss ever allures with falsest hopes the panting and 
 famishing heart ! But as William says, 'Oft expectation 
 fail, and most oft there where it most promises." 
 
 With two mighty sighs that extinguished the candles 
 he dashed the imaginary tears from his eyes and went 
 down to his supper ; for, however famishing his heart 
 might be, -there was always one organ in his anatomy in a 
 continual state of want, but which his prodigious and 
 frequent mastication failed to satisfy. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Dibbs," began Mrs. Susan Boozer, with a 
 wink to her sisters, as the young man took his seat at the 
 table with a familiar greeting and a confident air, and 
 proceeded to help himself bountifully from the several 
 dishes, " what gal are you goin' to fool 'round this even- 
 in'? 'Pears to me you're slicked up in purple an' fine 
 linen worse nor them King Solomon tells about in the 
 Good Book." 
 
 "Whew! What a heavenly smell!" exclaimed one 
 sister. " La, Mr. Dibbs ! you must have got a whole 
 geranium-bush tucked away in that 'ere coat o' your'n !" 
 
 " I never saw Mr. Dibbs look so killing," put in the 
 other sister, with an ogling smile at him. "It's really 
 dangerous for him to go out to-night. The girls will die 
 of envy at the very sight of him." 
 
 To all of which badinage Dibbs made the following re 
 ply, which, for reasons best known to himself, was not 
 couched in that pure or studied English with which he 
 addressed the lawyer or expressed himself in private. 
 "Take me for a noodle, ladies," he said, looking at them 
 each in turn with a broad grin, and redoubling the celer 
 ity of his knife and fork, " I am got up in style, that's a 
 fact. Am glad you like my looks. Clothes will tell, 
 though. They are a blessing as well as a delight. I 
 know a woman who was saved from drowning once by 
 her hoop-skirt holding her up in the water. Another
 
 160 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 saved her skull, in a fall, by a thick bunch of back 
 hair not her own, of course." 
 
 " You're as smart as you are handsome," said the 
 ogling sister. "The parson ought to get you for his 
 daughter. She thinks in Greek and talks in Latin, 
 they say." 
 
 " You don't say she thinks, do you?" rejoined Dibbs, 
 emptying his second cup of tea at a draught. "Well, 
 that's where she beats people in general. They talk 
 without thinking." 
 
 " Where did you say you were goin' ?" suddenly asked 
 Mrs. Boozer, hoping tails to throw him off his guard. 
 
 "Just now," gayly answered Dibbs, his knife and fork 
 making a final skirmish on his plate, "I am going to 
 leave the table ; next, I am going to leave the house ; 
 and then I am going to leave my respects at the first 
 house where the young ladies are out. And now, hav 
 ing said ' Going ' three times, I once say ' Gone,' and bid 
 you all good-evening and good-night!" 
 
 AVith a little waving flourish of his hand to each of 
 them he skipped across the floor, caught up his coat and 
 hat and cane, and disappeared with a final grin through 
 the outer door. 
 
 " He's a fool, if there ever was one," said Mrs. Boozer, 
 elevating her contemptuous nose over her third cup. 
 
 " Strange to me he has souse enough to tend the bar," 
 commented sister number one, her thin lip curling with 
 derision over an ample slice of bread, in which her teeth 
 were making a serrated half moon. 
 
 " Don't you be so sure he's a fool," rejoined the ogling 
 sister. " I'm much mistaken, or he knows more than he 
 lets on. And if he does look green, he may for all that 
 be ripe, like some apples. But what puzzles me is where 
 he gets all the money he spends on clothes. They must 
 cost more than his wages amount to." 
 
 " \Vell, one thing is certain he doesn't steal it from 
 me," spoke Mrs. Boozer with energy. " I have had my 
 eyes on him all the time. Many's the marked note and 
 silver piece I've put in the till these last two years, and 
 never one of them have I missed. No, I will say that 
 for him : Bill Dibbs is honest !"
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS ' NIGHT AD VENTURE. 161 
 
 While this discussion as to his character went on, Dibbs, 
 with anything but complimentary remarks upon the women 
 he had left, was cautiously making his way along the vil 
 lage street, screening himself from observation by walking 
 in the darkest places and dodging behind trees when any 
 body came in his direction. It was only when he had 
 passed beyond the village outskirts, and found himself on 
 the open road, that he relaxed this excessive watchfulness. 
 Now he began to fix his thoughts more intently upon the 
 business in hand, and put on at the same time a new pair 
 of lavender kids, which he treated carefully and tenderly. 
 11 For," said he, " new gloves are like maidens' favors : 
 they come the easier by coaxing." 
 
 It was a dark night. The moon would not rise till late, 
 and a cloudy sky shut out the stars. Dibbs had naught 
 to guide him save the dull line of the road visible only 
 a i'ew feet ahead in the middle of which his keen eyes 
 helped him keep his way. On he walked with a bold 
 tread, swinging his stout cane, now in front and now on 
 either side of him, cutting the black air with such heavy 
 strokes that no one could have suddenly -come upon him 
 with any advantage. The farther he left the village be 
 hind, the more frequent and vigorous became the sweeps 
 of his cane, as if he indeed feared assassination at any 
 moment. Whether it was because his own principles 
 taught him to be suspicious, or he was naturally super 
 stitious, his mind now became filled with strange fancies 
 and apprehensions. The silence and the solitude began to 
 fill his ears with mysterious sounds and his eyes with 
 blood-curdling phantoms. There were stifled voices in 
 the air and hollow groans behind the fences that skirted 
 the road. The bushes took on the indistinct yet tangible 
 forms of crouching men and beasts of prey, while the 
 trees towering along the way became giant spectres, 
 casting their huge arms athwart the gloom, that came 
 down upon him now as black as the funeral pall he re 
 membered to have seen stretched upon his mother's bier. 
 His mind suddenly began to be invaded by some awful 
 horror. Despite all his attempts at reasoning, his imagi 
 nation filled him with direful apprehensions. What if 
 some evil spirit were following him, waiting only a moment. 
 
 14 * L
 
 162 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 more to fall upon him and crush him into a shapeless mass 
 or hurl him, powerless and speechless, into some yawning 
 chasm, that might open here in this very road, and swal 
 low him up in sulphurous fire? This thought paralyzed 
 him. Alone and in the dark with a ghost! He stood 
 motionless with terror, his knees' trembling, his teeth chat 
 tering and the cold perspiration trickling down his fore 
 head. 
 
 So overcome was he that he would have sunk down 
 in the road at the first breath of wind through sheer fear, 
 had not the sound of footsteps coming on behind him 
 startled him into the consciousness that there might yet 
 be safety in flight. Fly he did, leaping along the ground 
 with a speed that carried him on like the fleetest athlete, 
 every muscle strained, his eyes distended, and his nostrils 
 dilated with quivering breath. On on, he ran, as if the 
 pursuing hand of that nameless Thing behind him were 
 just about to clutch him. Past Nicholas Grundle's hut 
 that dreaded place he flew, his heart beating the louder 
 here lest from the grave in yonder spot so near one more 
 spirit might rise to pursue him. He turned never so much 
 as a glance to see what might follow now, for ahead of him 
 shone in the distance a light in the window of a farm 
 house. Oh, if he could only hold out to reach that beacon 
 of safety! Xo light to the mariner in a storm, his ship 
 driven through black and lashing seas, across which came 
 the boom of the breaking surf, mingled with the howling 
 of the vengeful, driving wind, was ever more grateful than 
 was this light to Dibbs. For as the mariner, with a cry 
 of joy, now heads his vessel in a safe course again and feels 
 his fears give way to hope, so Dibbs, nearing this light, 
 began to take courage, and slackening his pace halted an 
 instant to listen for his pursuer. 
 
 He heard no sound save his own rapid and labored 
 breathing and the thumping of his frightened heart. He 
 stood still and listened more intently. All was dark and 
 silent as his own room at midnight, when, startled by some 
 strange sound, he had lain shivering in bed to hear it 
 repeated. For a moment he could not believe he had 
 really escaped his pursuer. He might yet be stealing on 
 him witl) noiseless step. As he glanced ahead, and saw
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 163 
 
 he was now at the entrance of the farm-house lane, his 
 courage, which the proximity of the farm-house was fast 
 bringing back to him, suggested that perhaps it was only 
 his imagination that had frightened him. This, however, 
 was an insinuation upon the strength of his reflective 
 faculties that he could not for an instant entertain ; so, 
 stoutly asserting to himself that he had been pursued and 
 made his escape by his superior swiftness, he rearranged 
 his disordered attire, wiped the perspiration from his face, 
 and, holding his hat in his hand to cool his head, walked 
 slowly up to the farm-house. 
 
 When he came to the steps, he was composed enough 
 to act with his usual caution. He first peeped through 
 the window to see if the mysterious stranger had come 
 before him. The sight of the two women sitting alone 
 made him all amends for the fright he had experienced 
 to gain this precious view of the woman whose face, 
 turned in his direction, seemed to dart a magnetic thrill 
 all through him. No greater bliss, he thought, could he 
 ever desire than to stand here all night and M'atch her 
 with his eyes, which, longer looking, the more eagerly 
 gazed. A noise in the direction of the barn warned him 
 that his present position in the dark might be perilous to 
 his safety and success. Yet he was not ready to go in. 
 Somehow, he began to be as afraid to enter the house and 
 speak face to face with his idol as he was to stay outside 
 and run a risk in watching her. At last, drumming up 
 his "courage, he became bold enough to mount the steps. 
 Then, after a little hesitation, during which he felt his 
 knees growing very unsteady, he lifted the brass knocker, 
 and holding it suspended a moment at last let it drop 
 with a sudden relaxation of his grasp. 
 
 Perhaps it was the loud noise of the knocker that had 
 startled him ; for when Aziel Loyd opened the door, she 
 saw him standing there with a pale face and frightened 
 eyes. He looked indeed like some culprit caught in the 
 very act. Nor was her own countenance at first without 
 fear as she shrank back and, holding the door midway 
 open, peered cautiously out at him. But soon perceiving 
 he was not the one she had expected to see standing there, 
 she opened the door wider and boldly asked,
 
 164 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " Who are yon, and what do you want?" 
 
 "Why, don't you know me, Miss Lord?" lie stam 
 mered, pulling off his hat and looking at her, as he 
 leaned forward with something between a grin and a stare 
 on his face. " I'm Dibbs Bill Dibbs, they call me. I 
 I stay at the Green Tree Inn." 
 
 " Indeed?" she said, regarding him with an indifference 
 that made his heart sink so heavily in his breast that he 
 thought it never would come up again. "And what 
 might your errand be? Whom do you wish to see?" 
 
 " I I came to see you," he found courage to say, 
 though falteringly, as he fidgeted with his hat, and began 
 to wish himself miles away, if this were to be his recep 
 tion on coming for the first time into the close presence 
 of his divinity. 
 
 " Came to see me f" she exclaimed, looking at him so 
 sternly that his eyes drooped sheepishly away from her 
 gaze. "What business can you possibly have with me?" 
 Then, speaking in a more encouraging voice, for she saw 
 his bashfulness was further confusing him, " Pray come 
 in and tell me." 
 
 He stumbled over the doorsill in his agitation, and 
 followed her into the room* with a crestfallen air, his 
 bearing as starchless as his wilted collar. So disconcerted 
 was he by the coolness of her manner that he failed to 
 hear her invitation to take a seat, but stood gaping at her 
 with a sickly smile, his hat meanwhile rapidly oscillating 
 between his two hands. 
 
 " Be seated, Mr. Dibbs, and state your errand," she 
 said, unable to keep from smiling at the odd figure he 
 was presenting. " Take this chair," pointing to one near 
 her; and then, noticing how his eyes roved restlessly and 
 with suspicious glances about the room, she added, with 
 a nod of encouragement, " You can be perfectly at your 
 ease ; we are alone." 
 
 " Isn't Mrs. Gagger around ?" he asked in a hoarse 
 whisper, drawing a pace nearer with a dramatic stride, 
 holding his finger up in token of silence and throwing 
 into his face an expression of extreme caution. 
 
 "You needn't fear Mrs. Gagger," she replied with a 
 little laugh, for he was making the circuit of the room oil
 
 WILLIAM DISCS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 165 
 
 tip toe, much after the manner of heavy villains on the 
 stage. " She has gone to her room, and will not interrupt 
 us. Do sit down and tell me why you have come to see 
 me. Your errand must be a very important one, for you 
 are evidently much excited. " 
 
 He silently crossed the room to where she was sitting, 
 and after much hesitation, during which he looked at her 
 with a confusion of smiles, glances of admiration and 
 faint sighs of despair, abruptly seated himself beside her. 
 He tried to speak, but could not. He began toying with 
 his hat, now putting it on the floor, now holding it out 
 stretched in his hand, and now resting it on his knees. 
 All the while his face, fixed on hers, grew sillier, and his 
 feet shuffled in and out from under his chair. 
 
 " Have you forgotten your errand ?" queried his com 
 panion with a kindly smile that raised his spirits fifty de 
 grees, and made him feel as if he were going up in the air 
 and his chair were slipping away from him. 
 
 "Take me for a noodle," he at last giggled out, letting 
 his hat fall upon the floor and catching hold of the sides 
 of his chair. " I've forgotten what I came here for! My 
 head is whirling all around. Don't I look queer?" 
 
 " No, you look very harmless," she rejoined with a laugh, 
 the melodv of which fell upon his ears like a heavenly 
 strain, and suddenly fortified his soul and made his heart 
 beat happily with the thought that at least she had not re 
 pulsed him. No, she had let him sit so near her he could 
 touch her hand if he but dared. 
 
 " I've got a letter for you," he tittered, regaining 
 somewhat of his courage and hitching his chair a trifle 
 closer to hers. " Here it is. I guess you know who 
 wrote it." With his face, in a broad grin, still fixed on 
 hers, he took from his pocket something which he held 
 out to her. 
 
 " I should hardly call that a letter, Mr. Dibbs," she 
 said, bursting into a little laugh, which drowned his last 
 surviving fear of her, " unless you carry letters in your 
 handkerchief." 
 
 " Take me for a noodle !" he exclaimed, thrusting his 
 handkerchief back into his pocket and producing, after 
 much fumbling, the letter. " I'm kind of mixed this
 
 166 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 evening, as Racier Craft would say of a poor witness. You 
 see, Miss Loyd, I am not used to sitting close to a beauti 
 ful woman. It makes me feel as if I were somebody 
 else." 
 
 She gave him a gracious smile in return for his compli 
 ment, and asking him to excuse her for a moment, she 
 left him in a broad and happy grin, and went over to the 
 lamp to read the letter. Dibbs was all eyes now. He 
 watched her every movement and expression with an 
 interest doubly intensified by his cunning and jealousy. 
 He inwardly chuckled at the thought that now he should 
 know if she loved the lawyer, yet the apprehension that 
 perhaps she did made him tremble with an anxious and 
 curious fear. No little satisfaction and encouragement to 
 him was it that she opened the letter and began 'to read it 
 with nothing beyond curiosity in her face. And more 
 pleased still was he, as she went along, to see how com 
 posedly she read line after line without evincing anv 
 emotion beyond that of a faint smile as she finished the 
 letter a smile that had, he saw with inward joy, a touch 
 of weariness and sadness in it as it lingered upon her 
 thoughtful countenance. She quietly put the letter in her 
 pocket, much as if it were one on some ordinary business, 
 and with a face entirely free from suspicion she resumed 
 her seat by Dibbs and asked, 
 
 " Did Mr. Craft send this letter by you because he ex 
 pected you to bring back the reply to it ?" 
 
 "No, I can't say that he did," replied Dibbs, speaking 
 with an assumed hesitation, by which he hoped to excite 
 her curiosity, and thus lead the conversation into the 
 channel he wished. " But it struck me as rather strange 
 that he wanted me to bring the letter instead of sending 
 it through the post-office." 
 
 " It is a little mysterious," she said, " although I pre 
 sume he had some good reason for so doing. However, 
 you are very kind indeed to come so long a distance, on 
 such an unimportant errand." 
 
 She gave Dibbs a thankful smile that raised flattering 
 hopes in his heart and quickened his desire to gain more 
 of her good-will by making the revelations he had in 
 store.
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 167 
 
 "I would do anything for for you," he stammered, 
 blushing under the fascination of her glance. "I I 
 always like to please the ladies." 
 
 " It is certainly very good in you to take such an inter 
 est in a stranger. When one has few friends, an unex 
 pected one is certainly an agreeable surprise." 
 
 She smiled so sweetly on him now that he no longer 
 hesitated to tell her what he knew. But just how best to 
 introduce the subject he was at a loss, and lie might have 
 altogether failed had he not remembered the conduct of 
 the lawyer under similar circumstances. So, with a grave 
 countenance, a few preliminary hems, and slowly wiping 
 his face with his handkerchief, which he as deliberately 
 returned to his pocket, he began, his eyes fixed solemnly 
 on her and his voice in a semi-whisper, while his hands 
 slowly moved with warning gestures 
 
 " There are a great many mysterious movements trans 
 piring in Slowville at the present time. Strange parties 
 have suddenly appeared, and some parties have as sud 
 denly disappeared. There is trouble serious trouble 
 brewing in certain localities, but to l>e forewarned is to be 
 forearmed, and it is worse than folly to run the risk of 
 meeting a secret enemy in the dark when you can as well 
 approach him with the light of his identity shining fully 
 upon him ; and better still is it to be advised beforehand 
 of his plans." 
 
 And here he paused, and leaning forward, his hands 
 upon his knees, looked at her with a mysterious yet know 
 ing expression, which, as he intended it should, instantly 
 convinced her that he had information that would be of 
 service to her. Aziel Loyd, concealing her surprise under 
 a forced smile that still further won the heart of Dibbs, im 
 mediately resolved to find out what he knew, at the same 
 time taking care to give him no clue to her own know 
 ledge of recent events. 
 
 " What is it you are trying to conceal from me?" she 
 said in a coaxing tone, laying her hand upon his arm and 
 turning up to him her softly-pleading eyes. "You will 
 surely be my true friend, and tell me what danger threat 
 ens me?" 
 
 " Will you always be a friend to me if I tell 3-011 ".'"
 
 168 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 asked Dibbs, trembling under her touch, and eying her 
 hand askance with a wistful look. 
 
 "I will never forget your kindness," she said, slowly. 
 withdrawing her hand ; " and if ever I can repay you for 
 it in any way, J certainly will do so." 
 
 "It's a bargain !" exclaimed Dibbs, catching her hand 
 and shaking it with vigor ; then, letting it drop as sud 
 denly as he.had seized it, he sat bolt upright on his chair, 
 his confused face crimsoned with blushes. " Excuse me !" 
 he stammered. " I didn't mean to be impolite, but I 
 thought I could talk better if I I shook hands with 
 you." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Dibbs," she replied with an arch look, 
 "you certainly need not apologize for shaking my hand. 
 Isn't it the token of friendship? See! I will shake yours 
 with both of mine fo show you that I will be even more 
 of a friend to you than you to me ;" and she took his 
 trembling palm in hers with a merry little laugh, and 
 shook it so long and cordially that he felt his heart 
 dancing with joy. "There, now!" she said, releasing 
 him ; " you can go on and tell me just as little or as 
 much as you wish." 
 
 His tongue was fairly loosened now, and as she listened 
 to him with an encouraging smile playing about the sweetest 
 lips he ever saw, he told her of the visit of the stranger to 
 the Green Tree Inn, his conversation there, and his sub 
 sequent mysterious disappearance. Then, oblivious to any 
 allegiance he might have owed to Rader Craft, he related 
 how that morning he had seen Silas Gagger enter the law 
 yer's office, and thence take his departure for the noon train 
 eastward. Without waiting for his listener to question 
 him as to the conclusions lie had drawn from all these cir 
 cumstances, the glib and loquacious Dibbs made the fullest 
 revelation of his suspicions as to the identity of the mys 
 terious stranger, the intentions of Silas Gagger and the 
 plans of Ilader Craft, winding up his eloquent recital of 
 facts and fancies with this statement, which he delivered 
 with an authority and a confidence that would have well 
 become a judge upon the bench : 
 
 " But, Miss Loyd, environed as your mistress is by these 
 surroundings, that threaten her peace and happiness, she
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 169 
 
 need not despair of escape from the toils of the mercenary 
 stranger, the designing husband or the plotting lawyer. 
 The law is the mighty bulwark under whose towering form 
 she will find hope, protection ay, safety itself! Behold !" 
 he exclaimed, his eyes flashing and his hand raised aloft, 
 displaying several sheets of paper, which he had drawn 
 from his pocket with a grand flourish ; " here are the docu 
 ments the very statute laws made in this case and pro 
 vided. These will guide you and her safely over this 
 stormy sea of trouble, and bring your vessel into a quiet 
 haven with its flag floating triumphantly from the tip of 
 its tapering mast !" 
 
 " What 'do you say these are?" she asked in a dazed way 
 as he thrust the papers into her hand and her fingers closed 
 securely upon them. 
 
 It was evident that for the moment the woman was be 
 wildered, more by the unexpected manner in which the 
 young man had made his revelations than by the revela 
 tions themselves. These, to a certain extent, she had an 
 ticipated, but his choice of language and eloquent gestures 
 were a total surprise, nor could she restrain the look of 
 genuine admiration with which she was now regarding 
 him. Dibbs interpreted this expression of her lace as 
 having a deeper meaning. Perhaps the thought made 
 him tingle from head to foot it was the faint dawn of a 
 feeling that would yet ripen into the most luscious fruit 
 of Love's own raising. He must do all he could now to 
 make her more strongly impressed in his favor. 
 
 " Those papers," he said at length, tapping them sig 
 nificantly as they lay in her grasp, " are extracts copied 
 by myself from the law-books of llader Craft. You will 
 find in them all that Mrs. Gagger," lowering his voice 
 dramatically, " will ever need to know in regard to her 
 legal rights under certain contingencies. Time and her 
 own good judgment, supplemented by your most excellent 
 advice, will aid her in determining to what extent she 
 shall avail herself of the ample protection which, in anv 
 event, the law affords her. Moreover," laying his hand 
 deferentially upon his breast, "if I can be of further aid 
 to either or both of you in the settlement of present or 
 future issues, command me. There you have the law 
 
 15
 
 170 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 verbatim et literatim et puncfndthn; here you see one who 
 will ever hold your interest* and happiness dearest to his 
 heart. If in trouble, my dear madam, call upon AVilliam 
 Dibbs; if rn doubt, consult him; if in anxiety, summon 
 him. And, to speak more comprehensively still, in what 
 ever circumstances of female complications or distress you 
 may need his aid, I repeat it, invoke the aforesaid William 
 Dibbs. To relieve lovely women of "the faintest care is 
 the highest ambition of his checkered career!" 
 
 As he finished speaking he suddenly rose to take his 
 departure, for the clock striking nine warned him that 
 if he wished to further carry out his plans he should no 
 longer linger in this angelic presence. 
 
 Aziel urged him to remain. It was early yet ; she 
 would be so pleased to have him partake of some re 
 freshments. She would call Mrs. Gagger and introduce 
 him to her. Mrs. Gagger would be delighted to know 
 personally so warm a friend. But finding that to all her 
 urging he returned a reluctant denial, and that he grew 
 more and more anxious to take his leave, she put out her 
 hand ; and grasping his with a fervent pressure, she said, 
 with her large black eyes fixed upon him with deepest 
 thankfulness, 
 
 " Mr. Dibbs, you have shown yourself a dear, good 
 friend to us. How can we ever repay you ? I feel as 
 if we never could. You will come and see us soon 
 again, I hope?" 
 
 " Whenever my presence shall be necessary to your 
 further warning, or promotive of your safety from the 
 machinations of secret enemies or open foes, you shall 
 see William Dibbs again. For the present, fair lady, 
 adieu !" 
 
 Reverently pressing her hand to his lips a way of 
 parting he had seen upon the stage he turned quickly 
 away, and without looking back darted out of the house. 
 He had been gone but a few minutes when Mrs. Gagger 
 came into the room, and the two women stood for a mo 
 ment looking silently at each other with a mutual expres 
 sion of astonishment not unmixed with fear. The mis 
 tress was the first to speak. 
 
 "Aziel," she said, with evident effort forcing somewhat
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS' NIGHT ADVENTURE. 171 
 
 of composure in her voice and manner, " what is the 
 meaning of all this? I have been listening to his talk 
 with amazement and anxiety. Can it be possible that 
 he is sincere in his professions of friendship for us ? or 
 has he come here as a spy ? I much fear the latter is 
 the case." 
 
 "Spy or not," replied Aziel, " his visit has certainly 
 been to our advantage; and if he did come as a spy, I 
 am sure thanks to a little innocent coquetry on my part 
 he has gone away my friend, and, of course, your friend 
 too. I will see to it that lie remains faithful to us both. 
 All is fair in war, and nothing fairer than receiving with 
 a hearty welcome any and all deserters from the enemy. 
 First, let us see what information he has brought us here." 
 Crossing to the lamp, she opened the papers Dibbs had 
 given her, and read aloud their contents. 
 
 " Then he has the right by law to annul my present 
 marriage any time within six months," said Mrs. Gagger, 
 trying to speak calmly, as Aziel finished reading and slowly 
 raised her eyes, in which was a trifle of triumph. 
 
 " Yes," replied Aziel ; " but suppose he does, he can 
 not make you live with him. The law on this point 
 a most important one to you is altogether in your 
 favor. You can refuse to live with him, and all he can 
 do is to get a divorce from you for willful desertion. 
 You would not object to that, I am sure," she added 
 with an encouraging smile. 
 
 At this moment they were interrupted by the sound of 
 excited voices near the house. They were evidently those 
 of men in close altercation, the tones of one growing 
 louder each instant, w r hile those of the other were sub 
 dued, though full of passion. Then all at once there was 
 a dead silence, followed by a gurgling sound and a faint 
 cry for help from the weaker voice, succeeded again by 
 a series of angry shouts from the stronger one and the 
 discharge of firearms. The swift running of feet down 
 the lane was now heard, the flying one crying "Murder!" 
 as he went. Aziel L*oyd was the first to command her 
 self, and while her mistress stood pallid and transfixed 
 with fear she ran to the door and opened it. As she 
 did so the light fell upon Patrick Doyle, a malicious
 
 172 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 grin upon his face and an old cavalry pistol still held 
 smoking in his hand. 
 
 " Lord save ye kindly, Misthress Loyd !" he said, pulling 
 off his hat, with a scrape of his foot. "It's only frecken- 
 ing the omudhaun I wor wid the noise of me pistol. Be- 
 dad, it's a long time agin afore he'll be prowlin' round 
 this house a-lookin' through the windies. God save ye, 
 leddies, both, says I. It's divil a bit o' harrum I'd see 
 comin' to ye by the loikes o' him, the dirty sthrap !" 
 
 "You did not hurt him, Patrick?" anxiously asked 
 Aziel. "The man was Mr. Dibbs, was he not? You 
 are sure he was Mr. Dibbs?" 
 
 "Is it Bill Dibbs, at the shebeen in the village beyant, 
 ye mane, Misthress Loyd ?" 
 
 " Yes, the young man who works at the inn. You are 
 sure the man you saw was he ?" 
 
 " Throth, I wish I wor as sure of hiven itself as I wor 
 of the sight o' that same Bill Dibbs, bad luck to him, 
 shure, wid his dalin' out o' pizen to the boys ! It's not 
 his liquor I'd be dhrinkin', savin' I wanted purgatory 
 inside o' me." 
 
 "Mr. Dibbs came here on an errand," said Aziel. 
 " Yon," her manner a trifle condemnatory, " should not 
 have been so quick to think that he meant us any harm. 
 If you see him here again, come and tell me before you 
 do anything so uncalled-for as this. I hope you did not 
 strike him?" 
 
 "Well, it's tell in' God's thruth, I always am," said 
 Patrick, humbly raising his eyes, "an' it's not meself that 
 can say exactly how it wor. But it 'minds me now I felt 
 the full weight o' his skull agin me fist. Maybe his eye 
 wathers a thrifle, but it's no harrum I did to his skull, 
 I'm sure. Och hone! it's me own blissod fist that's achin' 
 now !" 
 
 " I am glad you did not seriously hurt him. But in 
 order to prevent any mistakes hereafter, I wish you would 
 remember that you must first let us know if you see any 
 body about the house ; then we will tell you what to do." 
 
 So saving, she bid him good-night as he stood there, 
 puzzled and confused, trying to hide the obnoxious pistol 
 out of her si<jjht in a pocket far too small for it.
 
 PICKING THE VALISE. 173 
 
 As for Dibbs, he was making his safety sure in flight, 
 minus his hat and with several rents in his best suit of 
 clothes. His right eye was indeed watering, if nothing 
 worse, and fast closing, with a dull pain. He did not 
 stop to investigate this injury though something warm 
 trickling down his face made him shudder at the thought 
 of blood but ran homeward nearly as fast as he had 
 come. As he passed, with a fresh burst of speed, the hut 
 of Nicholas Grundle, the door opened for an instant, and 
 out of the one eye, which strained itself with astonish 
 ment, Dibbs saw, looking out from the half-open door 
 way, the form of the mysterious stranger the same tall 
 man who had come to the inn; the same dark face, only 
 the beard was not so heavy now. It was just a glimpse 
 he caught of the figure and the partly-averted face, for, as 
 Dibbs came upon the rift of light that streamed out across 
 the road, the man quickly drew backward and closed the 
 door. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 PICKING THE VALISE. OPENING THE CHEST. 
 
 TVTO miner digging for gold over the spot where he felt 
 _LM certain it was ever worked more industriously than 
 did Nicholas Grundle at the locks that kept from him the 
 secret of the valise. At first, with all his usual caution, 
 he tried the little piece of bent wire in one of the sunken 
 locks, leaving the padlock till the last, when his success 
 with the others should give him more confidence with 
 this, which he saw at a glance was a padlock of no ordi 
 nary pattern. But the smaller locks proved as formi 
 dable to his skill as the larger one might have clone. 
 Twist the end of the wire in whatever shape he might, 
 and turn it within the hole in whatever direction or angle 
 he could, he made no impression upon either of thorn ; 
 and the longer he worked, the more stubbornly they 
 resisted the slightest betrayal of their mechanism. 
 
 " He lias got safe-locks on his valise," he muttered, 
 
 16 *
 
 174 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 with a cunning smile, stopping for a moment to rest his 
 hands and wipe away the perspiration which covered his 
 forehead. " But the greater the treasure, the greater the 
 caution. Yes, yes ! Gold is hidden here. Not less than 
 twenty thousand dollars, I am sure. I wonder if it is in 
 bags, in large or small pieces, new or old coin ? If I 
 could only get a look at it ! So much gold under my 
 very eyes, and I not even see it!" 
 
 He said this with a vexatious shake of his head as he 
 seized the handle of the valise and rocked it violently to 
 and fro, as if to vent his anger upon it for the stubborn 
 ness with which it kept its secret. Then, trying his skill 
 again, he put the wire into the padlock and slowly turned 
 it around, bending closely over the lock and listening 
 intently for the faintest click within its works. But he 
 Avas no more successful with this than with the others 
 in fact, less so; for while he was pressing the wire against 
 a point which vibrated a trifle under his touch the wire 
 suddenly snapped, and to his dismay on pulling it out he 
 found the broken piece was left in the lock. It was in 
 vain that he tried to get this fragment out of the lock by 
 shaking it in all directions. The piece had become wedged 
 in tightly, wherever it was, and refused to leave its hiding- 
 place. He tried to reach it with the wire, moving it as 
 cautiously as his trembling hands would permit; but he 
 could not get the fragment, which, with that singular 
 perversity common to all inanimate things, seemed fully 
 determined to remain where it was, to tell of his tamper 
 ing with the lock. 
 
 Nicholas Grundle stood in a quandary now, silently 
 cursing the lock and the wire the one for its complexity, 
 the other for its frailty; and his disappointment at not 
 being able to see the contents of the valise was all the 
 greater because of such trivial impediments to his success. 
 Xo use to work over the valise any longer, he thought; 
 for even if he succeeded in picking the smaller locks, that 
 could be of no service to him, with this padlock still 
 successfully defying him. So returning the wire to the 
 drawer whence he had taken it, he locked the drawer 
 and hid the key beneath the chest. Then, replacing the 
 valise in the corner, he flung the carpet over it, and with
 
 PICKING THE VALISE. 175 
 
 a sigh of disappointment as earnest as any expression of 
 feeling he had ever uttered he drew aside the window- 
 curtains. Finally, after wandering aimlessly about the 
 room, he sat down in his chair in front of the fireplace, 
 where a few half-dead embers blinked up at his moody 
 gaze. The old man was greatly disgusted with his fail 
 ure at lock-picking. He had hoped to fully explore the 
 recesses of the valise, from which even now he could not 
 wholly keep his eyes. To gratify his avaricious curiosity 
 he now knew he must wait until the return of the stran 
 ger, and run the chance of seeing him display the hidden 
 wealth of the valise, or a portion of it at least. For he 
 shrewdly said to himself that if the stranger consented to 
 buy the form he should make him pay down a goodly 
 sum- as earnest-money this very evening. 
 
 " Not a bad idea, that !" he muttered, rubbing his hands, 
 chilly through nervousness, over the faint heat of the 
 hearth. " I will make him sign an agreement to buy, 
 and he shall give me five hundred dollars in advance. 
 No matter what he wants it for, I will sell it to him," he 
 chuckled. " Twenty thousand dollars for forty acres of 
 land ! Of course it is good land. Oh yes, very, very 
 fertile ! You can raise any amount of hopes on it ; and 
 hopes are not a bad crop to raise." 
 
 He struck his knees and cackled away with a shrill 
 laugh such as had not shook his shriveled frame for many 
 a year. But and the thought made him suddenly serious 
 suppose the man should change his mind and refuse to 
 buy? What then? That was evidently a very important 
 question, and Nicholas Grundle tried to answer it, leaning 
 forward with his hands clasped in his lap, his eyebrows 
 knitted close together, beneath which shone the gleam of 
 his avaricious eyes, that strayed, as'he pondered, toward 
 the corner where lay the treasure which already he had 
 almost come to consider his own. Oddly, too, as his eyes 
 rested upon the valise, it suddenly occurred to him that it 
 was just over the very spot in the cellar where that other 
 treasure was, which no eyes but his own had seen, and no 
 other hands had touched. What more natural than that 
 he should add the two together in his mind? 'What a 
 large sum they made ! His head was a trifle giddy as the
 
 176 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 total product of their figures impressed itself with a 
 slight electric shock upon his brain, and finally danced 
 before his eyes with a kaleidoscopic vision of its pur 
 chasing power. It might have been that his head was a 
 little turned by the dazzling prospect which this sudden 
 doubling of his wealth opened up to him, else why had 
 the avaricious gleam in his eyes deepened so soon, and his 
 features grown rigid with a determination that crept over 
 him, at first with the trifle of a shudder, but anon left him 
 trembling and excited, but resolved in his purpose? He 
 rose stealthily from his chair and glanced out of the win- 
 don- that commanded the village road. It was as lifeless 
 as the sterile fields that bounded it on either side. Then, 
 with a noiseless step, walking on tip toe, as was his custom 
 when he sought to hide the direction of his movements in 
 the cellar, he went over to the corner where his gun stood. 
 
 Taking up the weapon, he examined it carefully, and 
 then, as if not wholly satisfied, he withdrew the charge 
 and replaced it with another, and put on a fresh cap, which 
 he selected with more than ordinary care. This done, he 
 suddenly set the gun back in its place, and with a con 
 fident smile began to walk slowly about the room, evi 
 dently working himself up into a fever of resolution, and 
 keeping his eyes almost constantly upon the valise, coming 
 closely to it every time he made the circuit of the apart 
 ment. While thus engaged he heard the bark of the dog 
 as it came running up the garden-path, and an instant 
 later he caught the sound of the girl's slower footsteps, 
 which now stopped, as if she were hesitating about enter 
 ing the house. 
 
 "She is coining home with a heavy heart," he said with 
 somewhat of compassion in his voice as he hastened toward 
 the door to unfasten "it. " The feet go slowly indeed when 
 the heart is sad. But she will get over this disappoint 
 ment. The less we talk about it, the sooner she will for 
 get ; so I will not question her. She shall tell me only 
 what she pleases to relieve her mind. Poor child ! I do 
 pity her. He did certainly bewitch her with his glowing 
 vows and bright pictures of his love for her. His love! 
 Bah! What does a boy know of love? No more than 
 he knoxvs of that greater enigma, life itsolf."
 
 PICKING THE VALISE. 177 
 
 With a kindly smile he opened the door, and saw her 
 standing before him. She started a trifle as her eyes tim 
 idly met his, but, gradually assured by his mild countenance, 
 she came slowly forward and stood silently beside him. 
 
 " It was a long walk," he said, laying his hand caress 
 ingly upon her shoulder, "and your little feet have gone 
 over it very fast. But I missed you very much, my child. 
 Ah ! when you are out of my sight, it seems as if the 
 minutes change into hours." 
 
 Gently drawing her close to him, he kissed her lips and 
 looked softly down into her eyes, where .was the faint glis 
 tening of recent tears. 
 
 "Did she speak harshly to you?" he asked, stroking 
 back her hair and patting her cheek. "She had no right 
 to da that. It was not your fault that you could keep the 
 locket no longer." 
 
 - " No, father ; she was very kind to me," she murmured, 
 half concealing her face upon his breast. " She is a sweet 
 woman. She talked to me as kindly as if I were her 
 own child." 
 
 " That was very good of her," he said after a pause, 
 during which a look of perplexity had come upon his face. 
 " She did not blame you, then ?" 
 
 " No. She she blamed him," was the hesitating an 
 swer, which came with a sigh, followed by a little sob, 
 which would have been quickly followed by others had 
 he not suddenly changed the current of her thoughts. 
 
 " Well, we will talk no more about it," he said, turning 
 with her into the house. " Let us forget it for a while. 
 Some other time you shall tell me, if you choose, what she 
 said to you. Just now we will try to be happy here in 
 our little home. It may not be long before we leave it for 
 a brighter and a better one. So, while we do stay here, 
 where we have been so happy together you and I, my 
 child let us be happy as we have always been. You 
 will try to be so, will you not ?" he went on coaxingly, 
 drawing her closely to him, patting her under the chin and 
 pinching her cheeks with an odd laugh of encouragement. 
 
 " I will try to be happy," she sighed, looking down and 
 away from him to hide the quivering of her lips. "But, 
 father dear," turning up to him a timorous glance, "you 
 
 M
 
 178 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 will not be angry with me if I am not happy right away ". 
 It is so hard- 
 He playfully interrupted her by putting his hand upon 
 her mouth a way he had of correcting her from her 
 childhood. " There, there, my dear child !" he said. 
 " You need not say another word ; your father under 
 stands it all. You must forget, and I must forget. We 
 must both together forget that you deceived me and I was 
 angry with you for it. I am not angry with you now. 
 No, no! What you have done this morning has made 
 you dearer to me than ever. Don't you see how different 
 I am from what I was when you went away ? Look at 
 your poor old father's face !" he broke out with a gayety 
 of manner she had never seen before, catching her hands 
 in his, and, with his arms extended, dancing a few light 
 steps in front of her and laughing the louder the more 
 surprised she looked. " Why, I am as happy as happy 
 can be !" he cried, dropping her hands, and clapping his 
 own in time with his fantastic footsteps. 
 
 She looked at him in mute wonderment, forgetting for 
 the moment her own sad thoughts as she saw her father 
 capering about the room with a glee that increased with 
 every step he took. 
 
 " Xow don't you see how happy I am ?" he laughed, 
 caracoling toward her. He tossed aside her hood and 
 shawl, and catching her about the waist whirled her around 
 the room with him with an abandon of spirits that over 
 turned the chairs and made Csesar add his barking to the 
 general tumult. Out of breath, he stopped at last and 
 sank into his chair, and motioned her to come and sit 
 beside him. 
 
 "My child," he said, after he had gained something of 
 his usual composure, " I see you are wondering what 
 makes me so happy. Well, I cannot tell you all just now. 
 Of course I am pleased because you are so loving and 
 kind and obedient to me, but that, while it is a part, is not 
 the whole reason, of my joy. There is good fortune in 
 store for us, and for you more than for me. I can see 
 it coniing. Yes, yes, I can see it coming. We have not 
 much longer to wait for it not much longer to wait. 
 The mouths go fast now very fast !"
 
 PICKING THE VALISE. 179 
 
 Here his speech, which had slowly become more hesitat 
 ing, died away, and he fell into one of his silent and 
 thoughtful moods, his hand resting fondly upon her 
 head, which hud pillowed itself upon his knee while 
 he had been speaking. Several moments thus passed, 
 when he suddenly came out of his reverie, and ex 
 claimed, rising from his chair, 
 
 "Dear me, my child! Why, \ve have almost forgotten 
 our dinner! The sun has been shining through yonder 
 window an hour, and tells us that, hurry as -we may, we 
 shall be late at least twice that length of time. For to 
 day we must have a good dinner yes, the best dinner the 
 old cottage can give us ! And now, my little housekeeper, 
 what shall we have for dinner?" 
 
 " What would you like to have?" she asked. 
 
 For this was the question he had taught her to put to 
 him before every meal since the old housekeeper had been 
 laid away in yonder yard. And he, too, had always kept 
 the key of the closet where the household stores were, 
 from which he doled out as he thought best a scanty basis 
 for the coming meal. Surprised indeed, then, was she to 
 hear him say, as he put the closet key in her hand, 
 
 "You shall provide the dinner yourself. It's time that 
 you took charge of everything about the house. You are 
 getting to be a woman, and from this day on I give into 
 your hands the management of all our household affairs. 
 Yes, yes ! you are now my little woman-child. You must 
 take as good care of me as I have of you," he added with 
 a playful shake of his forefinger as he kissed her and bid 
 her hurry with the meal. 
 
 This new responsibility one which she had often 
 longed to have, and which now she found so unexpected 
 ly thrust upon her seemed to suddenly lighten her heart. 
 With a little burst of childish joy she threw her arms 
 about his neck and kissed him, and told him how happy 
 now she was in feeling that she was to care for him, and 
 how sure she was that she could do everything about the 
 house to please him. Then she asked him to sit in his 
 chair and watch her while she got ready, all by herself, 
 the meal they were to eat. He let her lead him to his 
 old arm-chair, which she placed by the fireplace, where he
 
 180 AS IT MAT HAPPEN. 
 
 could see her every movement. Beating up the cushion, 
 she set him down gently in the seat with so much of a 
 motherly air that lie smiled and shook his head with 
 many an approving nod, and said. 
 
 " That's right, my little woman-child ! You know just 
 how to care for me. Your old father has been blind until 
 to-day, that he did not see how miv.h better than himself 
 you can care for him." Pushing back the stray locks from 
 his forehead and stroking his chocks, much as if he had 
 been a child and she a woman grown, she bid him keep 
 his eyes upon her and see how well she could do in this 
 her first attempt at housekeeping. So while she busied 
 herself in her new work his eyes, except when they were 
 diverted by a sudden glance at the valise, followed her 
 with many .a look of pride. Now and then he clapped 
 his hands and told her how well she was doing as he saw 
 the fire burning briskly on the hearth, the vegetables and 
 the meat preparing, and the table growing more and more 
 inviting under the white cloth and the bright dishes, whose 
 location she now and then changed as her eye caught a 
 better effect. Thus the hour passed more happily to her 
 than had any hour she had ever remembered beneath this 
 roof; and when she drew, his chair up to the well-spread 
 table, and he said he could not have believed she was so 
 smart had he not seen it with his own eyes, she could 
 not repress the tears of joy that welled up from her 
 happy heart. 
 
 The cottage of Nicholas Grundle had never seen so 
 good a dinner, nor so generous a one. There were mut 
 ton-chops broiled to a turn ; boiled potatoes ready to fall 
 apart with their flaky whiteness ; roasted sweet potatoes 
 steaming hot; and hominy creamy- white with milk and 
 butter. A pitcher of milk was there, and a plate of 
 sliced bread, which seemed to be ogling the little plate of 
 butter that stood opposite it, and in the centre of the table 
 was a glass dish which Emily had found in the closet, and 
 in which she had placed some red-cheeked apples, decorat 
 ing them with some bright fall leaves she had gathered 
 that day. Never was a meal in the cottage eaten with so 
 much pleasure as was this. The old man never was so 
 talkative, never in so good a humor. He praised every
 
 PICKING THE VALISE. 181 
 
 dish, and pronounced the cooking the best he had ever 
 tasted. He told stories of his younger days a period in 
 his life she had never heard him mention until now and 
 laughed immoderately at these reminiscences of his boy 
 hood, until Cffisar, who had been watching the table 
 closely, occasionally receiving a mouthful from Emily, 
 could no longer restrain his glee, and ran around the room, 
 jumping up and barking first at Emily, then at her 
 father. 
 
 " Why, even the dog is in good humor to-day !" cried 
 the old man, patting him on the head and giving him a 
 bone. "And well he may be ! Ah, Csesar, you rascal ! 
 you know there is good fortune coming to us. Yes, you 
 do, you rogue !" 
 
 The dog, as if indeed this kind treatment of his master 
 was good enough fortune for him, licked his hand and 
 kept up his gambols about the table. 
 
 When at last the meal was over, the table cleared and 
 the dishes put away in the closet, where Emily arranged 
 them in better order than they had ever been, her father 
 called her up into his room, in which he had been quietly 
 busy about something this last half hour. She quickly 
 ascended the little open staircase, wondering why he had 
 summoned her there for his room, locked at all hours, 
 had always been a sealed apartment to her and her won 
 derment only increased when, on entering the door, she 
 saw him standing by an old oaken chest, upon the open 
 sides and back of which were displayed many bright pieces 
 of silks and velvets, sprays of artificial flowers, streamers 
 of delicate laces, brilliant shawls of various thicknesses 
 and texture, and several rare and motley skins. She was 
 astonished indeed at the sight of such an array of queenly 
 apparel. Whose might it be? She could not speak or 
 move, and her eyes were riveted upon this little world of 
 .beauty before her, which seemed to her to be the creation 
 of some fairy spell. The old man evidently enjoyed her 
 amazement, for he uttered no word himself, but with a face 
 as glowing and excited as her own watched, with a merry 
 twinkle in his eyes, the startling effect of this display. 
 
 " What are they ? Whose are they ?" she managed to 
 whisper out, coming a pace or two nearer him and laying 
 
 16
 
 182 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 her hand upon his arm with a tremor of excitement which 
 pleased him all the more. 
 
 "Whose are they?" he exclaimed, leading her close to 
 the chest and pointing to its contents with a look of pride. 
 " Why, they are yours, my child all yours." 
 
 "Mine?" she slowly said, gazing at him with a dazed 
 look of inquiry. 
 
 " Yes, all yours. See here !" he continued, taking from 
 the bottom of the chest a roll of heavy white satin, upon 
 which was laid a fleecy veil and a spray of orange-blossoms. 
 " What is this ? You are old enough now to know. Ah ! 
 I see my woman-child has been thinking ahead." 
 
 He shook his head wisely as she bent over the parcel 
 and gazed at it with sparkling eyes, a bated, fluttering 
 breath and cheeks that grew white and red by turns. 
 
 "A wedding-dress!" she whispered, more to herself 
 than to him, as she gently laid her hand upon it, and then 
 shrank back with a little start and a face that had grown 
 suddenly solemn. 
 
 '" So it is, so it is ; and your wedding-dress, too. Yes, 
 yes ! A wedding-dress for my woman-child. Ha, ha ! 
 Your old father thought ahead too, didn't he?'' 
 
 Shaking his head from side to side, with a laugh of sat 
 isfaction he laid the dress back in the chest. Then he be 
 gan to replace the other articles, holding each up to her 
 happy gaze, saying, 
 
 "These are all yours too every one of them. Ah! 
 Nicholas Grundle's child, when she is a bride, shall be 
 dressed equal to her station. Her poor old father has 
 taken care of that. He has seen good fortune coming to 
 her, and he is ready for it. You can go now," he said, 
 turning abruptly to her as he closed the lid of the chest 
 with a heavy sigh, and motioning her to the stairway. 
 " Some other time I will talk to you more about this, but 
 not now no, not now, my child." 
 
 Despite his efforts to conceal his emotion, she detected 
 the sad shadow on his face and noticed how tremulous and 
 unsteady his voice had become. 
 
 She would have run to him and kissed him, but he 
 silently waved her away and bid her leave him alone. 
 
 He would stay in his room a while this afternoon. She
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 183 
 
 must go down stairs and sit by the window that faced the 
 village road, and call to him if the stranger she saw in 
 the morning should come that way. 
 
 " Keep the doors locked," he said : " open them to no 
 one. You must help me now to watch over our treasures. 
 They are your treasures as well as mine. You have not 
 yet seen them all, my child, but you shall some day. Yes, 
 some day," he went on musingly, "and that day will be 
 soon enough for you, but too soon for me, I know too 
 soon for me." 
 
 In obedience to another beckoning wave of his hand 
 she descended the stairs, her mind in a maze of mystery. 
 She seated herself at the window, and tried to reduce her 
 thoughts to some system and draw some satisfactory con 
 clusions from what she had seen and heard. The more 
 she questioned herself as to the meaning of this sudden 
 change of her father in his conduct toward her and why 
 he had shown her the contents of the chest, the less she 
 could understand it all. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 
 
 IT was a very short afternoon to Emily, although she 
 sat by the window keeping watch as her father had 
 bidden her, with no companions save her busy thoughts 
 and Csesar, who lay restless at her feet, one of his great 
 eyes blinking up at her, while the other seemed to be 
 stealthily watching the valise in yonder corner. Over 
 head she heard her father bustling about his room, now 
 moving some heavy object across the floor, now open 
 ing and closing the lid of some box or trunk, and again 
 keeping still for many minutes, as if he were deeply 
 engaged in a secret work that kept his every movement 
 quiet. Once she heard him laughing in a half-subdued 
 manner to himself, and then breaking out into a merry 
 song, to which he kept time with his hands and feet. 
 What did it all mean? She asked herself so many
 
 184 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 times that her brain grew weary with the unanswered 
 question. She had never before seen him in this strange 
 humor so gay and serious, so open and secretive, by 
 turns. What had come over him to work such a sudden 
 change in his speech and conduct ? Had the advent of 
 the stranger anything to do with it? And if so, what ? 
 Who could lie be? and what did he carry in that odd- 
 looking box over there? What was he saying; to her 
 father when she came around the corner of the house 
 and found them together? What, too, was this good 
 fortune her father had said was coming to them so 
 soon? These and many other questions crowded upon 
 her mind as she sat by the window watching. But to 
 each and every one she could find no answer. The more 
 she strove to solve the mystery of her father's conduct, 
 the more incomprehensible did it become to her. 
 
 At last, wearied out with the effort, she laid her aching- 
 head upon her hand and gazed down the village road, 
 along which as yet had passed nothing save two farmers' 
 wagons, whose occupants, as they drew near the cottage, 
 whipped up their teams and dashed quickly by, as if 
 influenced by some superstitious fear of the place. Across 
 the distant tree-tops came the glow of the setting sun. 
 As he slowly descended into his gorgeous couch of crim 
 son and purple clouds he cast back, through an interven 
 ing gorge in the woods, a bright parting beam, which fell 
 like a good-night smile upon the form of the girl, bath 
 ing her face and hair in a soft light as mellow as the 
 glance of her eyes. Ah ! what but meditations of love 
 could make her eyes linger upon this slowly-fading land 
 scape with such a tender yearning in them? Were net 
 her thoughts going after him who had left her faster even 
 than the beams of golden light that flashed up from the 
 setting sun and stretched their feathery forms far out 
 upon the evening sky? She asked herself no questions 
 now. Her heart was as tranquil as that of the eventide, 
 which was bringing the ever-welcome rest of night upon 
 the world. To sit thus and think of him, and call to 
 mind with a readiness of memory such as lovers only 
 have every look he had ever given her, every word he 
 had spoken in those brief days when he was so kind to
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 185 
 
 her, was the sweetest joy her heart could wish, though his 
 parting threw a shadow of sadness over it all. Thus, 
 with a pure and unselfish love guiding her every thought 
 of him, the moments passed, filling her soul with a more 
 vivid image of him, until his presence seemed so near 
 that her heart fluttered with joy. Now the hope grew 
 brighter she knew not why that he still loved her; 
 that he would not forget her ; that, if she had wounded 
 his feelings, he would forgive her and tell her again that 
 he loved her. How she longed to be with him, so lone 
 some must he be traveling by himself so far away ! She 
 clasped her little hands and earnestly raised her eyes, in 
 which the tears glistened like the stars that now began to 
 twinkle down upon her. Then, with a look of earnest, 
 childish confidence, her trembling lips breathed out for 
 him a prayer so sweet and tender that if an angel had 
 passed that way he would have thought her some celestial 
 soul imprisoned on earth a while. 
 
 It was in this attitude, her hands still clasped and her 
 face looking upward with a simple faith that brought 
 heaven as near to her as if it were within the hearing of 
 her whispered prayer, that her father found her. She 
 had been so absorbed that she had not heard his light 
 footsteps as he descended the stairs and came softly toward 
 her. It was 'only when he laid his hand gently upon her 
 head and spoke kindly to her that she became aware of 
 his presence. Even then, despite the softness of his man 
 ner, she started, a little affrighted to find him standing 
 thus suddenly beside -her; for a shooting-star had crossed 
 the heavens the instant before, and she had audibly uttered 
 a wish for it to carry to God a superstition her father 
 had once read to her from a quaint old book. 
 
 " Is my little woman-child trying to read the stars, 
 seeking to find out her destiny from them?" he asked, 
 bending over her and caressing her hair, which had fallen 
 away from its fastenings, and, like a cloud of gold, rested 
 upon her shoulders. " Well, there is fortune in the stars," 
 he said, with an encouraging nod of his head, as he 
 looked out upon the heavens, slowly growing brighter in 
 the clear, frosty air of the approaching night ; " and good 
 fortune, too, I am sure, when they shine so brightly as 
 
 16 *
 
 186 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 now. Yes, the stars smile gloriously upon us to-night, 
 and write our coming good fortune in letters of silver 
 upon the eternal parchment of the sky. But come; it is 
 time we shut out the world, and night as well," opening 
 the window and fastening tight the thick wooden shutter. 
 " Let the stars keep watch over us while we spend the 
 evening together in talking of that brighter future which 
 will as surely dawn upon us as will rise the sun again 
 on the morrow." 
 
 She rose from her seat with a happy trustfulness in her 
 heart that reflected a calm smile upon her face, and set 
 about preparing their evening meal with a little bustle of 
 energy, as if she would make amends for the lateness of 
 the hour. First she closed the other window-shutters ; 
 then, throwing a handful of brushwood upon the smoul 
 dering coals, she again placed her father's arm-chair beside 
 the chimney-corner and seated him comfortably in it. 
 Xow, while the quickly-kindling fire flashed its beams 
 across her happy face, she lighted a candle, and with deft 
 hands and light steps began her pleasant task. It was 
 not long before the table was ready with its frugal meal 
 of mush and milk a dish he loved beyond all others. 
 
 "You see, father dear," she said, leading him at length 
 to the table, " that I have remembered what you said a 
 light supper makes a heavy sleep." 
 
 "Right, right, my child !" he replied with an approving 
 pat upon her cheek, which seemed to have caught the 
 warm, steady glow of the fire. " You are learning fast to 
 go alone in your care for me. Rich food does indeed make 
 bad dreams. Yet this dish is good enough for a king and 
 a queen. Indeed, to go no farther for true royalty, are we 
 not king and queen together? I the king whom you obey, 
 and you the queen whom I love. Ha, ha! my child, we 
 have a little empire here all our own happier in our pos 
 sessions than other kings and queens have ever been !" 
 Then, growing a trifle serious, he suddenly added, " But 
 we shall soon add to our little empire, for the good fortune 
 is coming soon. I can see it, and you have read it this 
 night in the stars." 
 
 Thus he rattled on through the meal, his talk divided 
 between their present condition of contentment and their
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 187 
 
 future lot, which was to be greater far in all its means of 
 happiness. She listened to him as intently and as pleased 
 as if he were telling her one of those wondrous tabs of 
 enchantment with which he had beguiled the lonesome 
 hours for her in her younger days. At last he came to 
 an abrupt halt in his speech, and rising from the table bid 
 her make haste and clear it away. 
 
 " I had almost forgotten the stranger," he said, pulling 
 out of his pocket an odd, old silver watch. "It is nearly 
 half-past seven o'clock. He may be here at any moment, 
 for he seems like a strange bird, flying at random. So 
 make haste, little housekeeper, that we may be ready to 
 receive him in order. We will give him no chance to pry 
 into our ways of living. He lives most securely who lets 
 the 'stranger's eye see little." 
 
 He seated himself by the fire and watched the burning 
 of two small sticks, which he laid upon the andirons 
 with a hesitating motion, and with something of his old 
 grudging air. Meanwhile, the girl worked as swiftly 
 as even his impatience could wish, though he looked re 
 peatedly at his watch and leaned more than once out of his 
 chair, with his hand to his ear, listening for some sound he 
 thought he heard along the road or nearer to the house. 
 All without was still ; there was sound of neither man 
 nor beast, wagon nor footstep. Even Caesar, to whom had 
 fallen the remnants of the supper, lay at peace, crouched 
 by the fireside, not moving a muscle ; only his eyes, turned 
 in the direction of the valise, blinked with a distrustful 
 watch fulness, as if, forsooth, it might suddenly throw off 
 its carpet covering and spring toward him. At length 
 Emily finished her work, and giving the last touches of 
 order to the room, she took her knitting from a little 
 basket on the mantel-shelf and seated herself beside her 
 father. She looked in his face for a smile of approval, and 
 asked, as she nestled closely to his side, 
 
 " Am I a good little housekeeper, father? Do I do every 
 thing just as you want me to? I shall do better, I know, 
 every day if you will only trust me and be as pleased as 
 you are now." He laid his hand upon her head, and 
 bending down kissed her, saying, a touch of pathos in 
 his voice,
 
 188 AS IT MAY HAPPEX. 
 
 "I have been watching you, Emily I cannot say with 
 more of joy than of sorrow, for now I see that you have 
 indeed passed from the dependency of childhood, which 
 was my greatest joy with you, to a motherly care of myself 
 which tells me full well that I shall hereafter need you 
 more than you will me. Yes, yes ! My pleasure now 
 must be in receiving that care which you have outgrown, 
 but which I shall need more and more as these old hands 
 grow feebler and these limbs follow you with tottering 
 steps. Ah me! How the years have gone by! It seems 
 but a little while ago I dandled you upon these knees and 
 put you to sleep in these verv arms. Now you are a little 
 woman, as tall as your father ay, stronger even than he, 
 and with form and features as full and fresh as his are 
 shriveled and sunken." 
 
 There came the sound of footsteps on the walk, and 
 Caesar, who an instant before had quickly raised his head 
 to listen, now bounded toward the door with a bark that 
 turned into a series of low, fierce growls, as if he had al 
 ready recognized the comer as one who ought to receive no 
 welcome from him. 
 
 " It is the stranger," said the old man, speaking to Em 
 ily in a voice that was low, yet tremulous with agitation. 
 "Call the dog away. Go with him to your room, and 
 stay there till I call you. I have business with this man 
 which we can best settle alone. Close your door, too, and 
 however curious you may be, do not listen to what we say, 
 for I would rather tell you myself, after he has gone, what 
 brought him here. This much I can sav," noticing the 
 rift of alarm that crossed her face : "he comes on no evil 
 errand." 
 
 With an obedience as ready as it was trusting, Emily 
 spoke to the dog, who came slowly toward her, still growl 
 ing his displeasure. Kissing her father with a tenderness 
 of apprehension, she lighted a candle and hastened up 
 stairs, followed by Ctesar. Entering her room, she closed 
 the door with a trembling hand and sank down in her 
 chair with Ca?sar at her feet, her heart beating with a 
 strange and undefined fear that even her belief in her 
 father's confident words could not wholly allay. 
 
 Meanwhile, whoever might be outside, he was standing
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 189 
 
 impatiently upon the step and rapping with loud, peremp 
 tory knocks upon the door, as one would do who had the 
 right of entering unquestioned. It was a series of raps, 
 bold and honest, he gave, not the sly, hesitating taps 
 of one who, on villainy intent, by quiet approach would 
 seek to make his entrance easier. Nicholas Grundle had 
 crept on tip toe to the door, and now asked, in a voice 
 that had a wonderful assumption of steadiness in it, 
 
 " Who's there ?" 
 
 " It is the man who left the valise with you," came 
 back the reply in that voice of peculiar evenness of tone 
 which the miser recognized, and without further delay took 
 down the bar, partially opened the door, and peered out 
 upon the face that greeted him with a sedate smile of 
 recognition. 
 
 " Come in," said Grundle, slowly throwing wide the 
 door as the man entered, and quickly barring it again. 
 " You are late in coming, but not unwelcome. Take a 
 seat beside the fire," he said, shuffling across the room and 
 drawing up a chair opposite his own, to which he motion 
 ed his companion. 
 
 " The valise is safe, I see," said the man, glancing to 
 ward the corner, as he threw aside his cloak and hat, and 
 then, briskly rubbing his hands, seated himself in the 
 proffered chair. " Whew ! How good the fire is !" he con 
 tinued, leaning forward and extending his hands close to 
 the ruddy blaze. " Now, this is genuine comfort and cosi 
 ness," looking around the room with an air of admira 
 tion. "A chilly night outside, but a blazing open fire 
 within and a good roof overhead. Ah, Mr. Grundle ! 
 one can get a great deal of solid satisfaction out of life if 
 he would only cultivate contentment with even a humble 
 lot, as you seem to have done. But the girl the young 
 lady your child ?" he added, looking again around the 
 apartment with a disappointed expression which he made 
 no attempt to conceal. "Am I too late to see her beau 
 tiful face again ?" 
 
 "She went to bed some time ago," said the other with 
 a sudden reserve in his manner. " Her motto is like 
 mine : ( Early to bed and early to rise ' " 
 
 " Let me add," interrupted the man, with a light laugh,
 
 190 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " that I hope the rest of the couplet will come true of yon 
 both ' healthy, wealthy and wise ' to the end of your 
 days. In one of these respects I can help yon," he \vent 
 on, more seriously, glancing for an instant with a knowing 
 expression at his valise. "For, not to longer keep you in 
 suspense, I have concluded to buy your farm, and at your 
 own price cash down, live hundred dollars per acre ; and 
 what is still more to your advantage, the parties for whom 
 I am making die purchase will not take possession of the 
 property before spring. You can have the free use of the 
 place ti'll then." 
 
 "But you will pay me for it now as soon as we can 
 get. the papers ready?" asked the old man, well concealing 
 his anxiety and eagerness by gazing with forced calmness 
 at the fire, while he drummed lightly on the arms of his 
 chair, as if the question he had asked were a mere trifle 
 of business. 
 
 "Certainly; the money will pass between us as soon as 
 the deed is signed," was the reply, given with a reassuring 
 promptness. "To facilitate matters, I have no objection 
 to your village lawyer drawing the deed. I understand 
 he is a good one. To show you that I mean business, 
 prompt and conclusive, here is my card. You can let 
 him insert this name in the deed." 
 
 Grundle took the card, and leaning toward the fire 
 read, half aloud, the following, printed with all the 
 flourishes of the typographical art : 
 
 " J. LAWREXCE ADAMS, 
 
 Commercial Agent, 
 
 Penna. JRailroad Co., 
 
 Philada." 
 
 " Humph !" he said, turning over the card carelessly 
 and assuming an indifferent attitude, though his keen 
 eyes sparkled and his wrinkles smoothed out a trifle 
 with an insinuating smile. "So you are buying the 
 property for the railroad ? In that case, they ought to 
 pay me more for it. They can afford it ! What's tweity 
 thousand dollars to them, when they are buying all an 
 old man has in the world?" 
 
 " You do not surprise me," returned the other with an
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 191 
 
 audible smile, stroking his moustache with the jeweled 
 hand, on which the serpent-ring; shone brighter than ever. 
 " I knew you would want more when you learned who 
 the purchasers are. Railroads are considered legitimate 
 plunder in our days', and men who would disdain to com 
 mit an ordinary theft rob corporations with equanimity. 
 Now, to be frank with you, I am offering you more than 
 I am afraid the company will sanction when I report to 
 them to-morrow. I have been prompted to make you this 
 offer, although the price seems to me very exorbitant, be 
 cause I thought it would induce you to part with the land 
 without any higgling as to price or continued opposition 
 to sell, w-hich latter case would for the present materially 
 interfere with our plans, although we could eventually 
 change them with little difficulty, for there are other 
 places in this vicinity that would probably suit my 
 clients fully as well as yours." 
 
 " Take the land, then, at your own price/' was the old 
 man's surly rejoinder as he flung out his hand with an 
 impatient gesture. " Who asked you to give more for it? 
 I didn't. I only said you might add a little to the price, 
 since the money you are paying is not yours. If you 
 would, I might divide a nice little sum with you ;" and 
 he raised his eyes to the man with a look of deep and 
 meaning cunning. 
 
 " A very tempting oifer. I am sorry, both for your 
 sake and mine, I cannot accept it. So, if you are not 
 pleased with my terms, we had better let the subject 
 drop. Perhaps you can dispose of your land to a better 
 advantage in some other way." 
 
 " Didn't I say the land was yours at your own price ? 
 How many more times do you want my word to pass the 
 bargain ? Here ! If you mean business as I do, read 
 that paper, and see whether you will sign it." He took 
 from the pocket of his faded and tattered coat a folded 
 sheet of paper, which he opened with a brisk air and 
 handed to his companion. The man, holding the paper 
 so that the light of the fire fell upon it, read it carefully, 
 and then, glancing over its top at the other, who had been 
 keenly watching him, said, 
 
 "This is an agreement on my part to buy your farm as
 
 192 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 soon as the deed can be made out. It also calls for an 
 immediate payment of five hundred dollars as earnest- 
 money. A carefully- written and legally-worded docu 
 ment. Did you draw it?" 
 
 "No matter who drew it. Will you sign it? That's 
 the point to be settled now. I never admire an agreement 
 until it is signed." 
 
 " Of course I will sign it!" laughed the man, good- 
 naturedly ; "and pay you the money in a cheque, or gold, 
 or notes, just as you prefer. Have you pen and ink here?" 
 
 " Here they are," said Grundle, rising from his chair 
 with sudden alacrity, his face covered with a greedy, eager 
 smile, and taking from the mantel an old inkstand and 
 pen, which he placed upon the table, under the dim light 
 of the candle, which he snuffed into a feeble glow. The 
 man wrote his name in a bold, vigorous hand, and then, 
 turning to the other, asked, 
 
 " Who will be our witness to this document? Ah, a 
 happy thought ! Your daughter might sign it " 
 
 " No need of any witness," interrupted Grundle, with a 
 quick negative shake of his head. " When men intend 
 to stand by their bargain, as you and I do, there is no need 
 of a witness to their promise." 
 
 " Well, just as you say," rising from the table, and 
 handing Grundle the paper, which he carefully folded and 
 put back into his pocket. " Now for the money. How 
 will you have it in gold or notes? For I fear a cheque 
 would not have enough of the appearance of money for 
 
 you." 
 
 " I'll take it in gold. That fills the eye as well as the 
 hand. It always seems to me more like money than any 
 thing else." 
 
 " So it does," laughed the stranger, tapping the old man 
 familiarly on the shoulder; "and you shall have it fresh 
 and shining from the mint, in bright pieces, unstained by 
 the tears of poverty and unsoiled by the greedy grasp of 
 avarice." 
 
 He went to his valise, threw off the carpet, and, tak 
 ing a bundle of keys from his pocket, proceeded to open 
 it ; and while he was doing this Nicholas Grundle sud 
 denly busied himself about the fire, stirring np the
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 193 
 
 coals, and putting on a small stick or two with far more 
 noise and exertion than seemed necessary, and all the time 
 his eves kept up their furtive glances upon the stranger's 
 movements. 
 
 " Something is the matter with this padlock," said the 
 man, turning to Grundle after several ineffectual attempts 
 to turn the key. 
 
 The old man went on stirring the fire with increased 
 vigor, all at once strangely oblivious to everything else in 
 the room. 
 
 " I cannot open my valise," said the stranger in a loud 
 voice, coming toward the fireplace and laying his hand on 
 Grundle's arm to attract his attention. "The lock is 
 broken. I shall have to pay you in greenbacks." 
 
 "Eh? Lock broken! greenbacks!" exclaimed the old 
 man turning round, as he dropped the poker and faced 
 the other with a look of dazed inquiry. " How how did 
 you break it?" 
 
 " Turned the key too quickly, I guess. But it doesn't 
 matter to-night, if you will take greenbacks. I will ex 
 change them for gold to-morrow when I sign the deed, if 
 you have it ready at that time." 
 
 " It will be ready to-morrow. Too bad about the lock! 
 I will take greenbacks to-night." 
 
 Again he took up the poker, and began to rearrange 
 the fire with a look of relief and satisfaction. The man, 
 he thought, had not suspected him, and would doubtless 
 leave the valise still longer in his charge. 
 
 " Here is your money ;" and as Grundle, comprehending 
 more readily now, turned slowly around, the stranger, 
 taking from a large wallet several crisp, unfolded bills, 
 placed them in his hand. " There are five one-hundred- 
 dollar bills. Am I right?" 
 
 " Yes," slowly returned Grundle, his trembling hands 
 going over the notes one by one, which rattled in his ex 
 cited grasp as he thrust them deep into his pocket. " But 
 you will exchange them for gold to-morrow ?" 
 
 "Certainly! Bur," looking at his watch, "it is get 
 ting late. I must go : I have quite a distance before 
 me. By the by, can I leave this valise here until to 
 morrow ?" 
 
 17 N
 
 194 AS IT MAY IIAPPKX. 
 
 " I have no objection," was the indifferent response. " I 
 guess it will be safe here." 
 
 "Yes; but hardly safe in that corner, should any 
 one break into your house. Let me see : where can we 
 hide it?" looking slowly about the room, and finally fix 
 ing his eyes upon the cellar-door. "Oh, there is the cel 
 lar ; suppose we put it down there? Xo one would ever 
 think of looking in the cellar for valuables, even if he 
 suspected you had any about the house." 
 
 As he finished speaking, he made a movement toward 
 the cellar-door, as if to open it. 
 
 "It will be just as safe where it is," said Grand le, a 
 trifle of sharpness in his tremulous voice, the only thing 
 about him that betrayed agitation, so well was he con 
 trolling himself at this moment, which he felt to be so 
 critical for the guarding of jiis hidden treasure. "Be 
 sides, the cellar-door is locked, and my child has the key. 
 It is not worth while to waken her for it." 
 
 " I should certainly be very sorry to disturb her sweet 
 dreams for anything trivial," returned the man with an 
 apologetic wave of his hand. " But, seriously, I much 
 prefer to leave the valise hidden away in your cellar, for 
 I don't hesitate to tell yon that it contains that which if 
 lost would ruin me. You would very much oblige me, and 
 put me at my ea.se for the night, if you would accede to 
 my wishes. Perhaps your daughter is not asleep. If not, 
 you can readily get the key without disturbing her no 
 more, indeed, than our talking this evening may have 
 done." 
 
 " Do I not tell yon the valise is safe where it is ? If 
 you do not believe me, and cannot trust it for the night 
 where it has been all day, you had better take it with 
 yon." 
 
 Shaking his head stubbornly, the old man began to 
 shuffle about the room, setting the chairs back, and mak 
 ing other movements about the fire and windows that 
 should suggest to his guest that he was impatient for 
 his departure. 
 
 "Well, good-night, friend Grundle !" said the man, 
 after a pause, during which he had boon covertly examin 
 ing the cellar-door, and noted the strong lock upon it.
 
 AN EVENING IN THE MISER'S COTTAGE. 195 
 
 " We will leave the valise where it is. I am satisfied that 
 it will be safe enough. To-morrow afternoon I shall be 
 here, if you say you will have the deed ready. . We can 
 then go to the village and have it properly witnessed." 
 
 "The deed shall be ready," replied the old man with 
 an emphatic shake of his head. "Only see to it that you 
 are. You can bring the notary here. I am too old to go 
 to the village on foot." 
 
 There came the sound of running footsteps along the 
 village road. Grundle started a little, and looked ner 
 vously toward his gun, advancing cautiously to where it 
 stood as the sound came nearer. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed," said the man, waving him back. 
 " It's only some country lover chased by his shadow, I'll 
 warrant you." 
 
 He opened the door and peered out just as the form of 
 a young man darted by the house, but not so quickly that 
 the stranger failed to recognize him, for he caught a glimpse 
 of the scared face of the barkeeper whom he had met at 
 the village inn. 
 
 " Who was it ?' ' asked Grundle, with his gun in his 
 hand, as the man closed the door. " Has he gone ?" 
 
 " Yes, and far out of sight by this time, even if it were 
 daylight, so that we could look after him. Well, I think 
 I will follow him, but not so rapidly." 
 
 With a parting shake of the old man's hand, which he 
 felt was cold and trembling, the stranger bade him good 
 night and went out. He had hardly left the step before 
 the door was closed upon him, and he heard the wooden 
 bar fall with a heavy thud into its sockets. 
 
 "Let him bar his door," chuckled the man as he turned 
 into the main road in an opposite direction to the village. 
 "So much safer will his treasure be for him to-night, and 
 for me when I choose to take it. So he keeps his money 
 in the cellar ! I'll warrant it's hidden behind some stone 
 in the wall, or in a box covered with rubbish. I know I 
 could lay my hand upon it, for the cunning method of 
 its concealment would leave some tell-tale trace. De 
 ceived old man ! He has been trying to pick the locks of 
 my valise, and thinks by his innocent manner when 1 was 
 trying the key he warded off any suspicions I might have
 
 196 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 
 
 had of him. How stubborn he was about opening the 
 cellar-door! Of course I was sure, from his forced calm 
 ness betraying itself in look and gesture, that there was no 
 other reason for not opening it than that he hadn't the 
 key. Crafty, indeed, he is; but after all his artfulness 
 he deceives himself more than any one else, especially 
 poor, innocent J. Lawrence Adams!" 
 
 And with a smothered laugh of satisfaction, which would 
 have made Nicholas Grnndle quake with fear had he heard 
 it, the man walked rapidly on until he came almost up to 
 the farm-house. Here he stopped several moments, and 
 debated, with a malicious smile, whether he should pay the 
 inmates another of his unwelcome visits. There were two 
 reasons that urged him to do so his pure love of deviltry 
 and his desire to find out what had been the barkeeper's 
 errand there; for he had instantly surmised, on seeing 
 Dibbs run past the cottage, that he had been at the farm 
 house. At last he decided to forego both the pleasure of 
 one of these reasons and the interest of the other. 
 
 "There 'is nothing for me to gain by seeing them to 
 night. Better for my present purpose, in fact, that they 
 should think me miles away from here. As to that bar 
 keeper spying around the house, as he has evidently been 
 doing, whv he will now be obliged to remain in ignorance 
 of my identity for some time to come." Drawing his 
 cloak closely about him, and pulling his hat far over his 
 face, he continued on with a brisk walk down the road, 
 like a dark shadow of evil stealing along in the still darker 
 night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 A FEIEXD IX DEED. 
 
 cars rapidly bore Volncy Slade away from Slow- 
 _L ville in no enviable state of mind. His passion had 
 cooled ; Reason had returned to taunt him with his fool 
 ishness, and well did she do it. Even the knowledge 
 that he was at last free from the annoying presence of his 
 stepfather, the drudgery of farm-life, and the fact that he
 
 .1 FRIEND INDEED. 197 
 
 was about to seek his fortune in a great city, which had 
 always been a charming prospect to him, could not give 
 him one bit of happiness now. None of these consider 
 ations, which at any other time would have gladdened his 
 heart, could bring the faintest smile of exhilaration or 
 peace to his troubled countenance. He had quarreled 
 with the girl he loved yes, worshiped now, he knew, as 
 the cars seemed with a malicious speed to bear him farther 
 and farther from her, while his goaded fancy brought her 
 nearer and nearer, until he could see her sad, reproachful 
 face, from which he had turned away without so much as 
 a parting glance of tenderness nothing but a cold kiss, 
 Avhich made the lips that gave it quiver now with remorse. 
 The more he thought of her he could think of nothing 
 else,' and would not if he could the more he blamed 
 himself; the more he pitied her, the more he loved her, 
 until he was so wrought up that he resolved to leave the 
 train at the next stopping-place and hurry back on foot to 
 her to ask her forgiveness and tell her that, despite the 
 mean words he had spoken and the cruel way in which he 
 had acted, he did love her with all his heart and trusted 
 her love for him with all his soul. 
 
 Resolved on this as the only honorable course he could 
 pursue and the speediest reparation he could make, he 
 caught up his valise and went in search of the conductor. 
 From him, to his dismay as well as disappointment, he 
 learned that the train, being a through and not a local 
 one, would make its first stop some forty miles away. 
 Reluctantly indeed he went back to his seat and strove to 
 calm his thoughts; but the more he tried the harder he 
 found it to alleviate in the slightest the wretched memory 
 of the injustice he had done. The patience with which 
 she had borne it all added a doubly-keener edge to the 
 poignancy of his remorse. Nor would his memory rest 
 content with this tantalizing review of what he had done; 
 but, with a strange pertinacity of willfulness, it brought 
 rapidly to his vision every little incident of his acquaint 
 ance with her, until her form seemed to be beside him, 
 and her voice, so sweet and trusting, ringing with a sad 
 cadence in his very ears. It was in vain that, to quiet his 
 mind, he told himself he would write a letter of repent- 
 
 1T*
 
 198 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 ance to her as soon as he reached the city ; that this letter 
 he would send in the charge of Aziel Loyd, who would 
 deliver it safely despite the keen watchfulness of Emily's 
 father; and to this letter he should receive a speedy an 
 swer of forgiveness. His thoughts would not thus be 
 calmed, but to this and every other scheme his busy 
 brain suggested they opposed doubts and fears, until he 
 fully experienced, to his unavailing sorrow, as the cars 
 carried him farther away from the loving heart he had 
 wounded, how much easier it is to do a wrong than to 
 forget or retrieve it. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when, wearied out with 
 the conflict he had waged with his hopes and fears, he 
 found a little peace in .the determination that he would 
 not only write Emily such a letter as should restore him 
 again to her affections, but, to make sure of its lasting 
 effect, he would, as soon as possible after securing his situ 
 ation, go back to Slowville and ask her forgiveness face to 
 face. In the endeavor to banish further consideration of 
 the subject from his mind as much as he could, he went 
 forward into the smoking-car. Here, lighting his cigar, 
 he ensconced himself in a double seat, and devoted his 
 thoughts, a trifle placid now, to the contemplation of the 
 new life upon which he was about entering, and in which 
 he was fully confident of achieving success. While thus 
 engaged in castle-building, the smoke of his cigar curling 
 upward among the lofty edifices of his dreams, he was 
 interrupted by a slight tap upon his shoulder as a mid 
 dle-aged man of rustic dress and appearance bluntly 
 asked him to move along a little, and took a seat besid,: 
 him. 
 
 " Car's rather crowded," said the man, taking out a 
 briarwood pipe, which he leisurely proceeded to fill from 
 a tobacco-pouch of chamois-skin curiously wrought with 
 beads. Volney looked around, and saw that the car had 
 indeed been filled since his entrance. Every seat was oc 
 cupied, and the dense smoke told how vigorously, to say 
 the least, the devotees of tobacco were enjoying the send 
 ing up of incense to its invisible shrine. 
 
 " Yes," he replied with more cordiality in his manner 
 than with which he had at first received the stranger ;
 
 A FRIEND INDEED. 199 
 
 " the car is very full. I had no idea I was monopolizing 
 the only unoccupied seat." 
 
 "That's all right. A man must look out himself for 
 his comfort when traveling. AYheii he can loll in two 
 seats, he's a fool to sit straight up in one. Going down 
 to the city, I suppose?" asking the question between the 
 preliminary puffs of lighting his pipe, and turning his 
 square, honest face on Volney. 
 
 " Yes ; that is my destination. How far off from the 
 city are we? It seems an endless ride to me." 
 
 " That's because you're anxious to get there," laughed 
 the man, good-naturedly, leaning back in his seat, and 
 evidently "composing himself for a quiet time with his 
 pipe; "all you have to do is to draw upon your patience 
 another hour, and then you will' find yourself in Phil 
 adelphia, where the streets are as straight as a yardstick 
 and the houses as. much alike as tombstones in a grave 
 yard." 
 
 " You are evidently not an admirer of the place." 
 
 "Oh yes ; I like it as well as I do any city," rejoined 
 the other with a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders. 
 "They are all alike, these cities full of lying and devil 
 try. City folks live by lying, cheating and robbing. 
 Give me the country people for good old-fashioned, hon 
 est dealing." 
 
 "Do you know much about Philadelphia?" asked Vol 
 ney after a pause, during which he was congratulating 
 himself upon having made the acquaintance of this 
 man, who would be of service in directing him to some 
 cheap and good hotel. "If so, perhaps you could tell 
 me of a moderate-priced hotel where I could lodge to 
 night ?" 
 
 " Go to the Bull's Head. That's where I stay. It's a 
 house for fanners plain food, clean rooms and comfort 
 able beds ; and it doesn't cost the price of a load of hay 
 to stay there a day, either." 
 
 "Thank you! I will avail myself of your kind ad 
 vice," said Volney, taking out a memorandum-book and 
 writing down the name of the hotel. "Will you please 
 give me the name of the street and the number ?" 
 
 " No need of that. You can come along with me if
 
 200 AS IT MAY HAPPKX. 
 
 you choose. I will introduce you to the landlord, and 
 that will get you one of the best rooms in the house." 
 
 Again Volney began to thank him for his courtesy, 
 but the stranger put out his hand with a deprecating 
 gesture. 
 
 " Now, don't thank me for doing a civil action," he said. 
 " It's no more than 1 would expect you to do for me if I 
 was coining to the city for the first time, as I suspect you 
 are. Going to clerk it?" 
 
 " Xot exactly. I am going to learn to be a machinist 
 that is, if I can." 
 
 "Well, if a man has any brains, he can learn to be al 
 most anything provided he sticks to it. Sticking to it is 
 what tells in the long run. You don't look much like a 
 mechanic, though. Been raised on a farm, like myself, I 
 take it. Got tired of farming and going down to the city 
 to try your luck. Eh ?" 
 
 " You have described my case precisely," rejoined Vol 
 ney, turning on his companion a look of admiration at 
 the penetration he had displayed. "I am exchanging the 
 farm for the factory, the plow for the spindle, and gladly, 
 too. I wish, since you are so apt at guessing the past, you 
 could tell me what kind of luck you think I will have in 
 my new life." 
 
 "That I can easily do. Luck in business is the same as 
 luck in farming, supposing you work hard in both cases. 
 If you have good seed, good soil and good weather, you 
 will have good luck with your crops. So, my friend, if you 
 have a good situation, a good employer, and the times are 
 good, you will have good luck. Do you want my advice?" 
 
 " Certainly, and very thankful I shall be for it," an 
 swered the young man, his admiration for the man deep 
 ening every moment, even as his gratitude increased. 
 
 " Well, here it is;" and as he spoke the farmer took his 
 pipe from his mouth and shook his forefinger with a slow, 
 impressive motion. "Work hard and keep your eyes open. 
 Good luck will come to you in time, only you must be 
 ready to seize your chance when it does come; for, remem 
 ber, good luck, like lightning, never strikes twice in the 
 same place. But pshaw ! What's the use of my preach 
 ing to you ? I guess your father gave you enough of that
 
 A FRIEND INDEED. 201 
 
 before you left home. Besides, we were nearer the city 
 than I thought when you asked me. See ! here we are at 
 Frankford. We shall be in Philadelphia in a very little 
 while." Volney followed the direction of the man's finger, 
 and as the train roared and dashed through the village he 
 could just see, in the dusky distance, the twinkling glim 
 mer of the city gaslights, pioneers alike of taxes and of 
 life, stretching in long straight lines far out into the country, 
 with scattered houses here and there to keep them company. 
 
 As he gazed at the quickly-moving panorama, and saw 
 row after row of houses rise out of the gloom, and lofty 
 steeples outlining themselves against the darkening sky 
 like grim' sentinels of the night, and the red flare of fur 
 naces and factories, whose tall chimneys, blazing with a 
 lurid light, seemed giant torches thrust toward heaven, a 
 slight feeling of dread came over him at the thought that 
 in this great place, where the lights of thousands of happy 
 homes swept across his vision wherever he looked, he would 
 be a stranger. Alone and in a great city! So many thou 
 sands, and not one friend! What solitude more dreadful ! 
 Meditating thus, his head sunk upon his hand, he pressed 
 his face against the window and peered out upon the glar 
 ing street through which they went, so full of life and 
 bustle and noise of men, women and children that he felt 
 he was indeed a stranger in a strange land. Not a familiar 
 face in all this throng that watched the train go by! Not 
 a voice he had ever heard before ! 
 
 " Come, my young friend !" said the man at his elbow 
 as the cars slowly entered the dep6t. " Here we are. 
 Hurry up if you want to get a good room at the Bull's 
 Head ! Got any baggage ?" 
 
 "Yes; a valise. It is checked. It will only take me 
 a few minutes to get it." 
 
 " All right," said the other, leading the way as they 
 passed out of the car. Then, whispering, and giving Vol 
 ney a mysterious nudge with his elbow as they walked 
 along the platform, "Watch sharp and keep your hand 
 on your pocket-book. Pickpockets around here thicker 
 than crows in a cornfield." 
 
 Volney stopped short with a little start of terror. Rob 
 bed of his money ! His hand quickly sought his pocket ;
 
 202 AS IT MA Y 1IMTEX. 
 
 and grasping within it his wallet, he held it in a vise-like 
 grip. Then he struggled through the crowd to catch up 
 with his companion, who, with a carpet-bag held in front 
 of him, was making his war rapidly, and eagerly looking 
 about him as they passed into the main saloon, as if lie were 
 expecting to meet some one he knew. 
 
 "Come out this way," he said, catching hold of the 
 young man's arm and hurrying him toward a side door. 
 "They unload the baggage here," he continued as they 
 stood outside the depot in a dimly-lighted side street where 
 stretched long rows of freight-cars. "Besides, there's one 
 of these city skinflints who says I owe him some money, 
 and he's always on the watch for me when I come to the, 
 city. By going along this street I shall get out of his 
 way. It isn't a fair debt, or I would have paid it long 
 ago. But I expect I will have to pay it, though, if he 
 should catch me to-night. He swore that if I didn't the 
 next time he caught me in the city, he would have me 
 arrested. Hello! it's no use dodging him. There he 
 comes now, like a dog on full scent. Stand by me, and 
 you will see what swindlers these city fellows are." 
 
 As he was speaking a thick-set, burly-looking fellow, 
 who seemed to leap out of the darkness, came toward 
 them with a menacing attitude. Shaking his fist and 
 head at Sladc's companion, he said, 
 
 "See here, farmer Jones, this thing of trying to get 
 away from this depot without my seeing you is played 
 out. I want you to come to time to-night. Mind, I am 
 all ready for you if you don't ! I have got a constable 
 round the corner yonder, and I'll introduce him to you 
 mighty quick unless you pay this bill," drawing a piece 
 of letter-paper from his pocket and rattling it in the 
 other's face. 
 
 " How much is the bill you claim against me, Mr. 
 Street?" said the man addressed, becoming greatly agi 
 tated and turning a distressed face on Slade, whose earn 
 est, sympathetic look and watchful attitude showed how 
 deeply he was interested. 
 
 " You know well enough how much it is. Forty-five 
 dollars, and not a cent less. So come down with the 
 amount, right here and now."
 
 A FRIEND INDEED. 203 
 
 " I can't pay you to-night. I haven't got the money. 
 You know I don't owe you a cent ; but, sooner than be 
 arrested and go to law about it, I will pay you if you 
 will wait till to-morrow morning. I shall get paid then 
 for a lot of turkeys I have brought down to market. Or, 
 if you will go with me down to the Bull's Head, I will 
 borrow the money there and pay you." 
 
 " Boots cost too much to wear them out running after 
 an honest debt like this," said the man, with a contempt 
 uous leer, as he turned on his heel. " I'll call the con 
 stable. A night in the station-house will give you a 
 chance to count up how much those turkeys will come 
 to." 
 
 " Stop !" said Volney, speaking now for the first time 
 and faying his hand upon the man's arm. "You can 
 have your money now. I will lend my friend the 
 amount." 
 
 Despite the protest of the farmer, Volney drew forth 
 his pocket-book, and counting out the sum placed it in the 
 farmer's hand, saying, 
 
 " It's every cent I've got, but you are welcome to it. 
 You can pay me back when we get to the hotel. I can 
 wait that long for it, even if this man can't." 
 
 Wiping his eyes upon his sleeve, the farmer thanked his 
 young friend in a broken voice, and paid over the money, 
 receiving his bill in exchange from the man, who there 
 upon left them, muttering that he had as kind a heart as 
 anybody, but that was no reason people shouldn't pay him 
 what they owed him. 
 
 The man had just disappeared around the corner of the 
 building when the farmer, holding up the bill, cried, with 
 a glance of dismay as he looked at it in the feeble glare 
 of the gaslight above them, 
 
 " The scoundrel has not receipted this bill ! Wait a 
 minute and watch my valise," quickly turning to Volney 
 and throwing the valise at his feet. " I'll soon catch him. 
 I'll let him know I am not so green as I look." 
 
 He darted in the direction the man had gone, leaving 
 Volney so excited in the result of the chase that he could 
 hardly restrain himself from joining in it. As it was, he 
 caught up the valise and ran to the corner just in time to
 
 204 AS IT MAY IIAPPJ-:.\. 
 
 see his friend disappear at full speed down a narrow street, 
 where he was soon lost in the darkness. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A GLIMPSE AT CITY LIFE. 
 
 TTERY impatiently indeed did Volney Slade stand in 
 V the darkened corner of the depot wall straining his 
 eyes through the gloom for the returning form of his 
 friend, and listening intently to hear the sound of his 
 coining footsteps. Moment after moment passed, and 
 there was neither sight nor sound of his return. As 
 he waited the street seemed to him to grow darker and 
 more quiet. He now began to fear that his friend might 
 have caught up with the man only to be felled to the 
 ground by a quick blow from an assassin. 
 
 Alarmed by this apprehension, he could remain where 
 he was no longer. He started in search of the farmer, 
 regretting half audibly that he had not accompanied him 
 on his errand, which had evidently turned out so disas 
 trously. As lie started on a run down the street to 
 retrieve, if possible, his neglect ere it was too late, the 
 form of a man suddenly confronted him, and a quick, 
 firm grasp sei/ed his arm. One glance told Volney that 
 he was in the hands of a policeman, whose eyes had a 
 twinkle in them as malicious as that of the badge that 
 glistened on his breast as he said, 
 
 " Not so fast, my boy not so fast ! Trying to make 
 way with a valise, are you? Thought you'd dodge Sandy 
 Grill round a dark corner, did you? But you didn't 
 know as Sandy Grill has got his bat-eyes on to-night, and 
 was watching yon standing here for a chance to slope. 
 So come along, my pretty bird ! There's a cage as is 
 waiting for you." 
 
 The young man's first impulse of innocence and sur 
 prise was to shake off the man's hold, but it only grew 
 tighter, and a baton suddenly flourished before his eyes a? 
 Sandy Grill said,
 
 A GLIMPSE AT CITY LIFE. 205 
 
 " Now look here, my cove : you don't want me to play 
 a lively tattoo on your skull, do you?" 
 
 " But, sir," expostulated Volney, ceasing his efforts to 
 release himself, " why do you seize me in this way? 
 What have 1 done? I am no thief. I know this 
 valise is not mine. I am taking care of it for the own 
 er, and was going in search of him when you stopped 
 me." 
 
 " Oh yes, I've heard that story afore ! It's first rate, 
 I know ; but then, you see, it's no go with me. So come 
 along !" 
 
 Tightening his hold, he pulled his half-resisting pris 
 oner around the corner of the depot into the full light of 
 the lamps that hung from the high-vaulted porch. 
 
 "Will you listen one moment to me?" pleaded Volney 
 in a tone so earnest and with a face so honest that the 
 other paused in spite of himself; " I am sure you will 
 believe me when I tell you my story." 
 
 " Well, tell your story. Cut it short, and take care 
 you don't criminate yourself. What you say to me is 
 evidence agin you in court." 
 
 He shook his skeptical face with a warning gesture. 
 The young man narrated his experience in so straightfor 
 ward a manner that the policeman's countenance gradually 
 relaxed as he listened; and when he heard of the farmer 
 and the bill and the money, he clapped his hands upon 
 his knees and broke out into a roar of laughter, which 
 was as inexplicable to Volney as was his former conduct. 
 
 " Fresh from the country ! Taken in and done for !" 
 he at last managed to ejaculate between his peals of laugh 
 ter, wiping the tears from his face and looking down on 
 his companion with a mingled expression of curiosity and 
 pity. 
 
 " I don't understand you," said the young man, his face 
 perplexed and astonished by turns. 
 
 " Of course not !" laughed the other, holding on to his 
 fat sides; "but when you see that forty-five dollars you 
 will be older than I am, and twice as gray. Why, boy, 
 can't you see through it yet? You've been robbed, beat 
 out of your money, swindled, bamboozled, laid out colder 
 than 1; st winter's ice ! I am sorry for you ; but the more 
 
 18
 
 206 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 you learn now, the less you've got to learn when you get 
 older." 
 
 "You don't mean to say," gasped Volney, his face 
 growing pale and his voice unsteady, " that the farmer 
 was a cheat that he has deceived and robbed me? It 
 cannot be! Why, here is his valise, which he has left 
 with me." 
 
 "Of course, and nothing in it," said the policeman, 
 taking hold of it and weighing and turning it with a crit 
 ical eye. "That's part of the game. I'll bet a month's 
 pay there's nothing but kindling-wood and paper in that, 
 valise." 
 
 So saving, he took a bunch of keys from his pocket, 
 and opening the valise held it upside down. Out from 
 it fell at the feet of the astonished young man several 
 sticks of wood and half a dozen newspapers rolled up in 
 a bunch. For several moments Volney stood white, 
 trembling and speechless. Then, looking up into his 
 companion's face with an expression of woe that made 
 Sandy Grill's heart soften toward him, he said, with a 
 quivering voice, 
 
 " It was every dollar I had yes, every cent ! What 
 am I to do? Where shall I go ? I am a stranger here : 
 I don't know a soul in all this great citv." 
 
 "Now, you don't tell me you was green enough to give 
 that fellow every cent you had, do you?" asked the police 
 man, his expression of sympathy taking on for the mo 
 ment a touch of contempt. " You look as if you ought 
 to have more .sense. They don't carry their eggs all in 
 one basket up your way, do they?" 
 
 "It was every bit of money I had," replied the other 
 with a sad shake of his head as he took out his wallet and 
 looked through it in vain for any piece of money, how 
 ever small. "You are right, sir, in blaming me. What 
 a fool I was not to have suspected him! But he looked 
 so honest and gave me such good advice that I couldn't 
 help believing in him." 
 
 "Gave you good advice, eh ?" and Sandy Grill's broad 
 face broke out into a smile of comical derision. " So does 
 the devil give good advice when he knows he's got a fel 
 low sure. Well, there's no use of making you feel any
 
 A GLIMPSE AT CITY LIFE. 207 
 
 worse about it. Your money's gone, dead sure, but you've 
 got your spunk left, I hope. But this is a bad go. No 
 money and no friends ! What are you going to do? It's 
 easy enough to go without your supper, but you can't 
 walk the streets all night, and it's too cold to sleep out 
 on the soft side of a plank or the feather end of a cellar- 
 door." 
 
 " Oh, if you could only help me in some way !" said 
 Volney, imploringly, turning his deeply-troubled face full 
 upon the other. " Js there, then, no place where I could 
 go and get trusted for a night's lodging ? See!" pull 
 ing out a small silver watch ; '^J could give this as 
 security ." 
 
 " Put up your watch and come along with me," said 
 the policeman, a trifle kindly, after closely eying his com 
 panion. "Got any baggage with you?" 
 
 " Yes, a valise. Here is the check," producing it. 
 
 "Good thing you didn't lose that, and your watch too. 
 It shows you've some luck left, though I wouldn't advise 
 you to play policy on it. Well, come along," picking up the 
 farmer's bag and putting back into it the wood and paper. 
 " Let's get your baggage and go over to the station-house. 
 If we can't do any better, you can bunk there to-night. 
 But the first thing you must do is to write home this very 
 night for money. You can't get along without money, 
 that's certain ; might as well try to raise crops in fields 
 of stone. Yes, money's your best friend. Without it 
 you'll have no friends ; with it, more friends than you'll 
 want," 
 
 So saying, he led the way to the baggage-room, where 
 Volney joyfully caught sight of his valise, and took it in 
 his hand with a tightened grasp, as if it too might dis 
 appear from his hold in some mysterious way. 
 
 " Now, if you had only held on to your money as tight 
 as that," said Sandy Grill, noticing, as they walked along 
 the street, how closely the young man was carrying the 
 valise in front of him, "your money would have been safe 
 enough. But I guess the folks up your way lock the 
 door after the horse is stolen?" 
 
 " Make fun of me as much as you choose ; I deserve 
 all you can say. I never would have believed that I could
 
 208 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 be so easily deceived. It will be a good le-son to me, but 
 it's a very hard one to bear just now. The thought of 
 being without a penny in a great city like this fills me 
 with a dread and loneliness you can little imagine." 
 
 " I don't see what you left the farm and came to the 
 city for, any way," said Grill with an impatient fling of 
 his hand. "You said a while ago that you were going to 
 learn to be a machinist. Better have stuck to your farm. 
 A farmer's life is a happy one; and well paid, too, with 
 egu's fiftv cents a dozen and butter so Jjigh a poor man can 
 only smell it. There are too many machinists here now. 
 Wages are down to starvation-point ; half the foundries 
 and shops are closed, and Heaven only knows when the 
 times will be good enough for them to open again. Take 
 my advice, and get home as fast as you can. If you can 
 learn how to raise cheap potatoes, butter and egu's, you'll 
 do more good in your lifetime than if you were to be the 
 best machinist living. Besides, if you do get work here, 
 you will only be crowding out some poor devil who wants 
 it more than you do. But you don't look to me to be a 
 fellow as would take the food out of other men's mouths 
 who've got wives and children to feed." 
 
 "Yon are right," said Volney, eagerly catching at this 
 last compliment. "I would never take any man's place 
 from him, much less the food from his family. I would 
 starve before I would do it. I came to the city to get no 
 one's situation. The place I am after is not filled yet. 
 There is nothing wrong or selfish in my trying to make a 
 living, is there ?'' 
 
 " Where is the situation ?'' was the gruif query ; for 
 Sandy Grill had worked himself into an ill-humor over 
 this last invasion of the city workingman's territory. "It 
 can't be worth much, to be standing open these hard times, 
 when skilled mechanics are working for a dollar a day." 
 
 "It's with a Mr. William Marsh, of Manayunk," re 
 plied Volnev, hesitatingly. "He advertises for a voung 
 man to learn the care of machinery in his cotton-mill." 
 
 "Oh, does he? The old fraud !" was the malicious re 
 joinder as the policeman threw his head hack with a jerk. 
 " It's a wonder he didn't advertise for a girl to run his 
 old machinery at two dollars a week."
 
 A GLIMPSE AT CITY LIFE. 209 
 
 " Do you know him ?" 
 
 "I should say I did know him, the old cast-iron soul !" 
 was the emphatic response. " My brother-in-law has 
 worked for him these last three years. lie says a meaner 
 white man you couldn't find, unless you got one made to 
 order out of a hog's body with a miser's soul in it. Red- 
 die Stitt knows what he is talking about. He's got a head 
 on him as level and true as the best piece of shafting 
 running/' 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that Mr. Marsh is a mean man/' 
 said Volney after a pause, during which the policeman 
 had sti'ided on a pace or two in advance, muttering and 
 shaking his head with angry gestures. " Perhaps it's the 
 hard times you talk about that make him close." 
 
 " Close ?" almost roared Sandy Grill, wheeling around 
 and looking down on Volney with his eyes aflame. "Is 
 that all you call it when a man treats his hands like brutes, 
 and cuts down their wages till they can't get decent food 
 for their mouths or a dry roof over their heads ? You'd 
 better pawn that watch and buy a dictionary, and learn 
 what words mean. Up your way, I take it, they must 
 call turnips and water a good square meal for a laboring- 
 man, and a haystack a nice warm bed on a rainy night." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, if I have offended you ; I certainly 
 did not mean to do so," replied the young man, endeavor 
 ing to appease the other's anger. " I am sure you know 
 more about these things than I do, and I am thankful to 
 you for telling me of them." 
 
 "Are you? Then I will tell you more," a perceptible 
 sneer lingering in his voice. . "If you are a friend to the 
 workingman, just you keep away from old Marsh's fac 
 tory. There's been a strike up there against his starvation 
 wages, and he's trying now to get men who will work for 
 almost nothing. But the boys have got him tight if men 
 like you will only stay away and let them fight it out with 
 him. Hang him ! If he can't get new hands, he's got 
 to keep the old ones. That's what Reddie Stitt says, and 
 he's boss machinist up there and knows just how things 
 stands. And Jet me tell you something more," lowering 
 his voice to a whisper that had as much of a threat in it 
 as the words he spoke : "if you do go there, you'll be 
 

 
 210 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 under Reddie, and won't he make it hot for you ! Yes, 
 indeed ! He'll make you dance around worse than a horse 
 with a nest of bumblebees between his legs. Reddie Stitt 
 knows how to take care of his rights. If you want him 
 to show you how to take care of machinery, he'll do it so 
 i'ast that you'll wish, before the first day's over, that you 
 was digging a hundred bushels of potatoes a day for a 
 living ;" and Sandy Grill chuckled and laughed, and 
 his head rolled from side to side with a very knowing 
 air. 
 
 By this time they had come in front of a small brick 
 building, from the large window of which streamed a glare 
 of light. Looking in, Volney saw a room in which an 
 excited crowd of men and women, with here and there a 
 policeman, crowded around a raised desk, behind which 
 sat a man who was vigorously shaking his hand in token 
 of silence. 
 
 " Hearing a case. Street-fight, I guess. Somebody's 
 hair gone and eyes in mourning," said Grill, opening the 
 door and beckoning his companion to follow. "This 
 way," leading him past the crowd into a small side room. 
 " You stay here while I report your case to the lieutenant. 
 After a while he will see what can be done for you." 
 
 So saying, he pushed a chair toward the young man and 
 went out, closing the door. 
 
 Left alone, Volney Slade found his thoughts wholly 
 occupied for the moment by the peculiar strangeness of 
 his situation, so contrary to all the buoyant hopes with 
 which he had left his home. Here he was in a station- 
 house a place his mind had always associated with crimes 
 and criminals of the worst sort; and now came the thought 
 of his utter helplessness, for cool reflection had so deserted 
 him that he was a prey to every fear. In a station-house, 
 without money and without friends ! Perhaps a lodger 
 to-night under the same roof that covered thieves, assassins 
 and drunkards ! The very air seemed laden with crime, 
 and grew stifling and oppressive. He looked about him 
 in dismay, the perspiration trickling from every pore. A 
 deathly sickness came slowly over him. IJe dropped his 
 valise upon the floor and sank into a chair, pressing his 
 cold hands upon his throbbing head.
 
 A GLIMPSE AT CITY LIFE. 211 
 
 As if to make the reality of his position all the more 
 terrible to his distorted and morbid fancy, which had fully 
 gotten the better of him, the uproar in the adjoining room 
 increased. Scuffling and oaths and the angry voices of 
 men mingled with the shrieks of women filled his ears 
 with terror and made his heart quake with a fear he could 
 not control. He would have leaped through the window 
 and ran he knew not where, so that he could shut out these 
 awful sounds, but he was so weak he could not rise, and 
 fell back in his chair trembling in every limb. For 
 tunately, the tumult began to subside. His courage re 
 vived a little. He listened, and heard the voices grow 
 more stiffed, the shrieks fainter and fainter, and the 
 scuffling less distinct, as if the prisoners were being taken 
 to some distant part of the building. And now the air 
 was freighted with less disturbing sounds. The subdued 
 talking and the muffled tread of the crowd in the next 
 room told him, with a sigh of relief, that it was evidently 
 dispersing. 
 
 More composed now, he turned his thoughts upon him 
 self. Of what avail were they to soothe the mortification 
 of his present position? For that was the feeling which 
 took possession of him and magnified with wonderful 
 po\ver the failures of the day his quarrel with Emily, 
 the loss of his money, the tauntings of the policeman and 
 his unfavorable description of Mr. Marsh, and the pros 
 pect of sleeping in this station-house like the commonest 
 refugee of want. These all crowded upon his sensitive spirit, 
 until, no longer able to command himself, he bowed his 
 head upon his hands and sought relief in tears. A soothing 
 balm to his wounded heart were these tears, slowly calm 
 ing his excited feelings. And as the dew woos the droop 
 ing flowers to life again, so did these tears, by some mys 
 terious law, lift up his fainting hopes and send a gentle 
 glow of peace through all his soul. With a little hysteri 
 cal laugh, as if he were reproaching himself for being thus 
 unmanned, he quickly raised his head. Thrusting his 
 hand in his pocket, he took out his handkerchief to 
 speedily wipe away all traces of his weeping before the 
 return of the policeman. 
 
 As he pulled out the handkerchief an envelope fell
 
 212 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 from its folds at his feet. AVith a murmured exclamation 
 of wonder he picked it up, and found to his surprise that 
 it was directed to himself. He opened it. As he did so 
 a roll of bills dropped into his hand. For an instant lit 
 sat bewildered. Then, as he recognized the handwriting, 
 he clutched the money with a little cry of joy, hastened 
 across the room and read, with a voice that trembled and 
 whispered by turns, the following letter : 
 
 "DEAR VOLNEY : Do not lie angry with me for doing this. I want 
 ed to give you something to remember me by. I liavr Uvn saving this 
 money for you. I knew you would not take it ii' 1 gave it to you willi 
 my own hands, so I put it in this letter, which I intend to slip in your 
 pocket when you say good-live to me this morning. Please do not re 
 fuse to take it for my sake. It will make me so happy to know it is 
 helping you. I must write you what I could not say to you, for fear 1 
 should cry and spoil it all. Volney, your nurse loves you so much. 
 This money is only a feeble offering of her aflirtion. Do let me love 
 you now, Yolney, just the same as when you were a little hoy. I do 
 hope you will succeed in the city. I know you will, for you are so good 
 and noble and true. I shall pray night and morning and all the day 
 for God to protect and befriend you and keep you from all barm. 
 Good-bye, and success to you is the warm wish of your loving nurse. 
 
 "A/IKL LOYD." 
 
 "Dear, good, kind Aziel !" was all the young man 
 could say, for the tears were falling fast upon the letter 
 as he pressed it to his lips, his heart swelling with fervent 
 gratitude, his eyes glistening with unspeakable joy. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 FURTHER CHARACTERISTICS OF WILLIAM DIBBS. 
 
 BILL DIBBS was alone this morning in the bar-room 
 of the Green Tree Inn. He stood behind the coun 
 ter, and, with both arms leaning upon it, was writing a 
 letter, while Spike eyed him suspiciously from his cage 
 above. Dibbs' appearance was a comical one, and seemed 
 to afford much amusement to himself. He stopped his 
 writing several times, and turning around surveyed him 
 self in the glass with a laugh. But the laugh after all 
 was a sickly one a dry, emotionless laugh. It showed
 
 FURTHER CHARACTERISTICS OF DIBBS. 2i'3 
 
 that, notwithstanding this show of humor, lie did not con 
 sider himself a legitimate object of merriment. The fact 
 was, Dibbs was now paying in a bloodshot and black eye 
 the penalty of his adventure the night before with Patrick 
 Doyle. Although he had slept with a piece of raw beef 
 bound over his eye all night a cure he had read of in a 
 .sporting paper it was as black and blue and red this 
 morning as the aforesaid Doyle could have wished to 
 see it. 
 
 " What's the odds, so long as your happy ?" he said, 
 winking with his uninjured eye at his distorted image in 
 the broken mirror and turning again to his writing. " I 
 am not the first fellow who has run against a post or a 
 door or had the street fly up and hit him in the face. 
 Accidents will happen despite the greatest care. But to 
 think that gentle female, Mrs. Boozer, should accuse me 
 of having been in a fight ! Me ! Bill Dibbs ! With a 
 disposition so mild and inoffensive that if a man were 
 to kick me I would take off my hat and apologize to him 
 for my want of appreciation ! Ah, Mrs. Boozer ! a noble 
 soul cares not for the calumnies of enemies, but it's hard 
 indeed to be misjudged by one's friends. Yet I forgive 
 you. Yes, partner of that bosom which now reclines va 
 cant and at peaceful rest in yonder cemetery, I harbor no 
 resentment for your unkind accusation. Being a woman, 
 Mrs. Boozer, you could not help it. The female heart is 
 always suspicious, tender though it be, lovely woman 
 tender though it be !" 
 
 Having thus relieved himself, his melancholy face re 
 sumed again the keen, cunning smile with which he had 
 been writing his letter, and which he now finished, sign 
 ing his name with a flourish that he held out at arm's 
 length to admire, clapping his hand over his black eye to 
 shield it from the bright light of the room, which was be 
 coming exceedingly painful to it. 
 
 " Now, that's what I call a signature that has character 
 in it! None of your small, screwed-up letters, as if a 
 fellow were ashamed of his name, but a bold, dashing 
 hand a regular John-Hancock flourish. Now for 
 punctuation and spelling," he continued, going criti 
 cally over his production. " Mistakes in letters are
 
 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 like mistakes in a man's accounts no excuse for them." 
 If one could have looked unobserved over Dibbs' shoulder 
 while lie was thus engaged in admiring his epistle, he 
 might have read this important letter, which had cost the 
 writer an hour's literary effort and many references to his 
 dictionary and Thesaurus. It had been written in answer 
 to one he had recently received, marked, in red ink, " Very 
 confidential," and proposing the sale of counterfeit money. 
 His reply was as follows : 
 
 "SLOWVILLE, Penna., November 17, 1877. 
 
 " MESSRS. GUNBRIDGE & Co., New York City, Gentlemen: I beg to 
 acknowledge the very favorable reception of your highly-important 
 letter. I assure you the weighty considerations yon advance for my 
 compliance with your suggestions have influenced me in an affirmative 
 manner. Your very complimentary opinion of my executive ability in 
 the transaction which you propose to submit to my fiduciary care I hope 
 will be more than substantiated by subsequent communications between 
 my humble self and the progressive establishment of which your epis 
 tolary document is a brilliant reflex. 
 
 " Even to one of my inexperienced powers of ratiocination, the propo 
 sition you advance, of the desirability of a cheaper circulating medium 
 than that which the paternal government of the United States so grudg 
 ingly distributes among its citizens, meets my warmest approval and ex 
 cites my highest admiration of your financial genius. 
 
 "You will please expedite by express to the cognomen and subjoined 
 address the sum of one hundred dollars of your approved currency in 
 diminutive bills suited to the exigences of a pastoral life. I will use 
 ardent exertions to distribute your consignment among the verdant popu 
 lation of this community; and in case of complete success of which I 
 am most sanguine I will remit you fifty per cent, of the profit, and 
 await your further consignments. 
 
 " Of my immutable secrecy you have the pledge of our mutual inter 
 ests more powerful, you will acknowledge, than any paltry considera 
 tion of safety, or the base fear of detection. 
 
 " I remain, dear sirs, your obedient servant, 
 
 " WILLIAM DIBBS, 
 "Care of Green Tree Inn, Slowville, Penna. 
 
 "P. S. If you have a one-hundred-dollar bill of plausible appear 
 ance, you might forward the same. I opine I could deftly manipulate 
 it into the possession of some rural individual. "\V. D. 
 
 " P. S. Secondly. Allow me to add that it would be a waste of your 
 valuable time to forward me any package containing sawdust and 
 marked C. O. D. For while sawdust is valuable for stuffing dolls, fill 
 ing spittoons and covering slippery sidewalks, your humble servant is 
 not desirous of entering either into the purchase or possession of such 
 a commodity. Verb. sap. ; which, being literally translated, means, 
 Don't fish for a whale with a pin-hook. W. D." 
 
 " And now," said Dibbs, after he had sealed and directed 
 this letter, taking from his pocket a clean white handker-
 
 FURTHER CHARACTERISTICS OF DIBBS. 215 
 
 chief, which he rolled into a long strip and began to tie 
 over his eye, "I shall put this damaged optic into seclusion 
 for the rest of the day. It is in mourning, and therefore 
 ought to retire from the public gaze. Besides, it is no more 
 than charitable that I should thus relieve any curious and 
 anxious sorrow the people of Slowville might have in re 
 gard to my recent accident." 
 
 With his eye thus covered and his hat pulled far down 
 on that side, he ran across the street to the post-office. He 
 deposited his letter in the mail, which was just leaving, 
 and came back to the bar-room to find Rader Craft im 
 patiently awaiting him. 
 
 " Why, Dibbs, my dear young friend, good-morning !" 
 he said, seizing him cordially by the hand. " You cannot 
 tell how anxious I am to see you. I sat up last night till 
 after midnight, waiting to hear from you according to 
 promise. Why," for the first time seeing the bandage as 
 Dibbs jerked off his hat and deftly threw it upon its peg 
 behind the bar, " what's the matter ? Have you been in 
 jured?" 
 
 " Injured!" replied Dibbs in a hollow voice as he slowly 
 raised the bandage to his forehead, and then stood with 
 folded arms, looking with a grave face at the lawyer. 
 " Thou hast spoken well, disciple of Blackstone ! It is 
 indeed injured. I might add bruised, wounded, mutilated, 
 stained, soiled, tarnished, dilapidated, devastated yea, 
 verily, desolated." 
 
 " How did it happen? I hope your adventure last night 
 involved you in no serious trouble?" said the lawyer with 
 his bland, conciliatory smile; "I should be sincerely grieved 
 if it did on my account." 
 
 " Mr. Craft " and the seriousness of Dibbs' manner v 
 increased " how much do you consider the commercial 
 value of a damaged eye? For what consideration would 
 you be willing to accept a visual orb so highly decorated 
 as this ?" 
 
 " I certainly should object to it on any terms of my own 
 choosing. Why do you ask ?" 
 
 "Because, before proceeding to the narration of last 
 night's events, I wish not only to settle the claim of 
 damages which I have against you in this case, but
 
 216 AS IT 3LIY HAPPEN. 
 
 to have them paid promptly, cheerfully and without 
 cavil." 
 
 " I will gladly render any compensation in my power, 
 if I am to blame for this calamity. But how am I to 
 judge of my liability unless I am told the circumstances 
 of the case ?" 
 
 "This eye," replied Dibbs with deliberation, slowly 
 pointing at the damaged member, "was maltreated thus in 
 your service. Its discoloration indicates only too vividly 
 how it came in unfriendly contact with the heavy bunch 
 of fives in possession of that Hibernian, Patrick Doyle, 
 who appeared to me unannounced while I was last night 
 making my tour of investigation in your behalf around 
 Silas Gagger's farm-house. Yes, sir, the adamantine fist 
 of Patrick Doyle was thrust against my innocent head 
 with a force that disclosed to me for an instant all the 
 starry orbs of heaven. It was a blow, sir, that opened up 
 to my vision indefinite space. No astronomer ever saw so 
 many stars at once, and they were as brilliant as they were 
 innumerable." 
 
 "Then you did not get into the house? were driven 
 away, I suppose, before you had any chance to see what 
 was going on ?" and the smile on the lawyer's face gave 
 M'av to disappointment. "I was afraid you were under 
 taking more than you could do " 
 
 " Were you, indeed?" interrupted Dibbs in a bantering 
 tone as he pulled down the bandage and went behind the 
 bar. "Then I suppose you will not be at all disappointed 
 if you should hear no more of my story ? So be it, then. 
 I will take a black eye for my portion of last night's work, 
 and you can have your ignorance of it to keep company 
 with your fear of mv abilities to perform what I under 
 took." 
 
 Then, with a satisfied shake of his head, Dibbs turned 
 his back upon his companion and began to wipe off the 
 bottles and shelves, and otherwise put the bar in order for 
 the day. 
 
 " Nothing like cleanliness to give zest to thirst or 
 hunger," he soliloquized, breathing upon the gilt labels 
 and giving them a brighter polish. 
 
 "Dibbs, my dear boy, I hope I have not offended
 
 FURTHER CHARACTERISTICS OF VIBES. 217 
 
 you?" said the lawyer, leaning across the counter and 
 touching him upon the shoulder. "You did not under 
 stand me. I meant that I was anxious about your suc 
 cess, not fearful of your failure. Don't you see the 
 difference ?" 
 
 "Oh yes a difference without a distinction;" and 
 Dibbs, without turning around, went on vigorously pol 
 ishing the bottles. "lam sorry, though, I cannot give 
 you back that important letter you committed to my 
 care," looking askance over his shoulder with an expres 
 sion half serious and half comic. 
 
 "I hope you did not lose that?" said the lawyer, his 
 face more" dubious still, for Dibbs' manner was perplexing 
 him not a little. 
 
 "That letter was placed where it will do the most 
 good, or I am no judge of the female face divine," care 
 lessly replied Dibbs, examining his stock of sugar and 
 lemons and proceeding to put fresh water into the kettle 
 that stood over the spirit-lamp. 
 
 The lawyer's countenance lighted up with an eager 
 smile, which he tried to conceal by rubbing his hands 
 over his face as Dibbs suddenly looked up at him. He 
 saw by Dibbs' expression that he was concealing some 
 important information, but just how to get at it without 
 diverting Dibbs' suspicions to himself Craft was at a loss. 
 Dibbs fortunately came to his relief. Planting himself 
 firmly behind the counter, that individual leaned his 
 elbows upon it, and gazing steadily into the lawyer's face 
 said, as he shook his finger slowly and with a knowing 
 gesture which was reflected in the twinkle of hi.s eyes, 
 
 " Mr. Craft, I have much to tell you about the recep 
 tion of that letter by the object of our mutual admiration, 
 Miss A/icl Loyd. ' Oh what an expressive face she has! 
 Every feature of it speaks with the voice of an angel ! 
 But first you must pav me damages for this eye, or these 
 lips, like those of the Sphynx of the desert, shall remain 
 for ever sealed." 
 
 "Plow much do you want for your damaged eye?" 
 asked the lawyer, quickly taking out his pocket-book and 
 with difficulty restraining his impatience. 
 
 " Twenty-five dollars. That will be five for each 
 
 19
 
 218 AS IT MAY HAPPKX. 
 
 color black, green, blue, red and yellow. A very 
 cheap painting, executed in body-colors by our Milesian 
 artist." 
 
 " There's your money, but it seems to me a very exor 
 bitant sum for you to ask ;" and Craft handed it to him 
 with a grudging expression. 
 
 " The prices of eyes differ according to quality," laughed 
 the other, stowing the money away in his pocket. " Glass 
 eyes are cheap, blind eyes worthless, but the eyes of 
 \Villiam Dibbs have just now a market value not readily 
 estimated. Besides, Mr. Craft, with this twenty-five dol 
 lars you are paying me for both the direct and consequen 
 tial damages to this eye. In other words, this eye is not 
 onlv painful and hideous, but it has cost me my discharge. 
 Mrs. Boozer, on seeing this mournful orb this morning, 
 notified me, in the strong and unmistakable language for 
 which that lady is well known in this community, that 
 after to-day she would clear me out of the place that 
 she did not want any ruffian about her." 
 
 " I am sorry this has happened ; but you just keep quiet 
 and attend to your work. I will see Mrs. Boozer and get 
 her to retract her sentence of discharge." 
 
 " Xo, sir, I thank you. The fiat has gone forth : let it so 
 remain. William Dibbs is able to take care of himself. 
 To-night Mrs. Boozer and I sever our commercial rela 
 tions ; and ere many days your humble servant will be 
 testing the ability of the world to give him an independ 
 ent living. But to return to a topic more interesting to 
 you. You wish to hear about that letter?" 
 
 "Yes ; for it very seriously affects the cause of a client 
 of mine. You say you gave it to her? Saw her read it? 
 Noticed her manner in every particular ?" and as Dibbs 
 nodded emphatic assent to these questions, " What con 
 clusions did you draw from her conduct ?" 
 
 " That she is in love deeper than Venus when she 
 sinks beneath the cerulean waves," answered Dibbs in a 
 confidential whisper. 
 
 " In love ? What made you think that ?" Craft tried 
 to force to his face an incredulous smile, though his. great 
 heart begun to swell with a smothered joy. 
 
 " When a woman reads a letter over three times, anc 1
 
 FURTHER CHARACTERISTICS OF DIBBS. 219 
 
 Mushes red as a rose and turns pale as a lily, and sighs 
 and trembles, I should say that something in the letter 
 had touched her heart deeply though tenderly touched 
 it " 
 ' " Did she do all that ?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed ; it made a shiver of jealousy run all over 
 me to see her sweet agitation. Ah ! I would give worlds 
 yes, fifty black eyes if I could have them to be able to 
 touch the female heart like that." 
 
 " What did she say ? I declare, my client will be over 
 joyed at this unexpected result. It was only a matter of 
 business, after all, but your account proves the surety of 
 accomplishment." 
 
 The lawyer rubbed his hands and began to stride up 
 and down the room, his bland smile as genial as the broad 
 band of sunshine that streamed through the window upon 
 the floor. 
 
 " She said to tell you she had received the letter and 
 would answer it," said Dibbs, giving a sly wink at 
 Spike. 
 
 "A very excellent message shows a womanly reserve 
 so admirable in the sex," said the lawyer to himself, 
 complacently adjusting his tie and surveying his form with 
 a look of proud satisfaction. Then, suddenly glancing 
 out of the window, he added to Dibbs, "Ah ! I must be 
 going ! Yonder is a client with whom I have an appoint 
 ment. I will talk with you, friend Dibbs, further about 
 this before the day is over. But you take my advice and 
 don't irritate Mrs. Boozer. She will by night retract what 
 she said. Besides, we cannot get along in Slowville with 
 out you." 
 
 With cautious and reassuring nods of his head, he 
 shook the young man's hand and left the room. As he 
 walked toward his office he exclaimed in a low voice, 
 " I knew it I knew it ! Her loving heart told her the 
 letter spoke only of me. Cupid's dart hath left its fester 
 ing wound. The lawyer and his client are not unwelcome 
 to her. Yes, she smiles on me ! Her heart is mine ! Oh, 
 blessed, waiting heart ! This very night I will press thee 
 to my bosom !" 
 
 Dibbs all this while was leaning on the counter, the
 
 220 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 tears of laughter running clown his face, as he said to the 
 bird, " Spike my boy, I've fixed the lawyer's case for him. 
 He'll go and propose to her to-day. I could see the rash 
 purpose kindling in his eye. He'll try to court her now, 
 Spike, with the silvery words of his honeyed mouth. But 
 ha, ha ! Spike, court her as he will, he'll find it only a 
 court of errors, after all." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 WHAT TWO LETTERS WERE ABOUT. 
 
 TT'IXD words and kind acts! I low potent their in- 
 JLJL. fluence ! far greater than all law and authority, the 
 fear of punishment or the contempt of correction, the cold 
 ness of ingratitude or the stubbornness of hatred. No 
 human mind can comprehend the mysterious alchemy 
 by Avlrich they work upon the soul, stirring the depths 
 of its better nature, and awakening into new life affec 
 tion long since dead or love that has buried itself, wrap 
 ped in the shroud of human neglect. Like the soft sun 
 light and the gentle dew, kind words and kind acts go 
 upon their heavenly mission, penetrating the dark spots 
 where human nature languishes for the warmth of sym 
 pathy or the friendly touch of love. And as the sun calls 
 the desert to blossom again, and the dew gently raises each 
 shrinking flower, so responds the heart of man to the ten 
 der voice of sympathy and the tremulous words of love. 
 Poor. Aziel Loyd ! She had written her letter and put 
 the monev in it with many misgivings. She knew how 
 proud A'olney was, how independent of spirit, how con 
 fident in his own unaided abilities; and what made her 
 more doubtful whether he would keep the money was her 
 knowledge of how he had grown more and more reserved 
 and dignified toward her these past few years, asserting 
 rather by his manner than by his words his social superi 
 ority. It was as if he had said to her, "I have outgrown 
 your love and care. You have ceased to be my nurse; I 
 am a man now. You will oblige me by putting aside your
 
 WHAT TWO LETTERS WERE ABOUT. 221 
 
 old ways of talking to and treating me. Hereafter I wish 
 you to pay me that respect which is due to our new re 
 lations of servant and master." It had been a very hard 
 struggle Avith A/iel to do as he had bidden her. To curb 
 the expression of her love; to restrain the motherlv air 
 Avhich his presence always inspired; to hide the look of 
 tender admiration in her eves when she spoke to him ; to 
 try and forget that her care and love were no longer essen 
 tial to his happiness, and that henceforth she was to be to 
 him no more than any servant his mother could hire, 
 these, each and all, had brought many a pang to her heart, 
 many a secret tear, many a Avakeful hour. And yet 
 her love for him, which no indifference or neglect could 
 diminish, had helped her in this unequal conflict between 
 her. affections and the exhibition of them. Thus it had 
 come to pass that, although she bore herself toAvard him 
 in all respects as he had Avished, her love for him grew 
 stronger and stronger, like a floAver blooming with lux 
 uriant fragrance in the dark and silent recess of a rock. 
 Ah! rarest, sweetest floAA-er of all the earth is woman's 
 love, for it Avill grow with lasting life in barren soil, Avhere 
 charity itself can find no trace of nurture. But if Aziel 
 could have looked into the station-house this evening 
 and seen the welcome of tears her letter had received 
 could she have beheld " her boy," as her heart ever spoke 
 of him, pressing her letter to his lips, could she have heard 
 Avith Avhat affection he spoke her name, and how he up 
 braided himself for the repelling way in which he had 
 treated her, and could she have caught the words of his 
 firm resolve that henceforth he would never by word or 
 act repress any demonstration of her affection for him, 
 she would have cried Avith joy, even as he did noAv as he 
 looked down upon the roll of money in his hand, and 
 knew how surely it had rescued him in his hour of great 
 est need. 
 
 Fifty-four dollars ! He counted it slowly OA'er with his 
 trembling fingers. Small bills every one of them, just as 
 she had treasured them up week after week for his use, 
 while he had been putting her away from him with 
 haughty indifference. His heart smote him, and the 
 money seemed to burn its rebuke into his very hand. 
 10*
 
 222 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 Yet stronger grew his gratitude and firmer his resolu 
 tion of reparation. 
 
 " Well, my friend," said Sandy Grill's gruff voice as 
 he opened the door and stood on the threshold, " I've 
 told your story to the lieutenant. He says you can bunk 
 here for the night. That's the best we can do for you, 
 though I don't mind going a quarter on your supper. So 
 come along; we'll take a plate of oysters together." 
 
 "lam much obliged to you," said Volncy., excitedly, 
 beckoning to him and holding out in his open hand the 
 roll of bills; "but I have got money myself no\v. See! 
 I found this in my pocket." 
 
 "Found it in your pocket?" slowly exclaimed the 
 policeman as he came forward and looked down at the 
 money, and then fastened an incredulous gaze on his com 
 panion. "See here! what kind of a game do you call 
 this ? Robbed of every cent you had a little while ago, 
 and now with your fist full of greenbacks. This must be 
 a country game of bluff " 
 
 "Read this letter," interrupted the other. "The money 
 I found in it, put there by mv old nurse. She certainly 
 hid the letter in my pocket as I bid her good-bye this 
 morning, but I never found it till a few moments ago." 
 
 Sandy Grill read the letter, stopping now and then for 
 an ejaculatory " Humph !" and a scrutinizing glance at his 
 companion. When he had finished reading, he turned the 
 epistle thoughtfully over, as if he were either debating its 
 genuineness or trying to comprehend the circumstances 
 under which it had been written. At last, examining the 
 money in the young man's hand with a curious and doubt 
 ful look, he seemed convinced that no deception was be 
 ing practiced upon him. He handed back the letter, 
 saying, 
 
 " Well, I don't go much on nurses as a class the best 
 of 'em are poor shifts for mothers but this nurse of yours 
 couldn't have done more if she were your mother. You 
 ought to think a heap of her. I tell you, when people 
 will give you money, they have got a feeling for you that's 
 worth having. But it was just like a woman to go and 
 stick it that way in your pocket, where you might have 
 lost it a dozen times to-day. Women are always putting
 
 WHAT TWO LETTERS WERE ABOUT. 223 
 
 money away in old stockings, stove-pipes and tin cans, 
 and out-of-the-way pockets, where a man would never 
 think of looking for it ; and the first thing they know 
 it's burnt up, thrown away or lost." 
 
 " But it was very lucky for me she put the money where 
 she did. If it had been in my pocket-book, it would have 
 gone with the other." 
 
 u So it would," laughed Sandy Grill. "In that case 
 you would have loaned your turkey-friend a hundred dol 
 lars instead of forty-five. Well, I am glad yon have got 
 out of your scrape so easily. Now I must go back to my 
 beat ; so, if you will come along with me, I'll show you a 
 decent lodging-house where you can stay to-night. Only 
 keep your money out of sight and have nothing to say to 
 any body. A stranger can get along all right in this city 
 if he keeps his hands out of his pockets and his mouth 
 shut. Keep your own counsel ; never show your money 
 nor tell your business among strangers." 
 
 With this parting advice he motioned him to take up 
 his valise, and they left the station-house in quest of the 
 inn, which was near by. Here Sandy Grill introduced 
 his companion to the proprietor, and having seen the 
 young man's name registered and a good room assigned 
 him, bade him good-night and wished him good luck. 
 
 " I cannot thank you enough, sir, for your kindness to 
 me,' ; said Volney as they parted at the outer door. " I 
 shall always remember you with gratitude ; and if ever I 
 can repay you, I certainly shall with all my heart." 
 
 " You can show your gratitude, as I said before/' re 
 plied the policeman in a low and determined voice, "by 
 keeping away from that mill. Give the boys and girls a 
 chance for their living. That's all the pay I ask. You've 
 got money and a good home, and they haven't." He 
 walked, away, muttering something about bread being 
 taken out of people's mouths by those who have got 
 plenty in their own. 
 
 Volney Slade, not at all shaken by the policeman's 
 words in his determination to apply for the situation at 
 Marsh's mill, quickly despatched his supper, for which his 
 excited mind gave little appetite. Then he sought his 
 room, where he busied himself writing two letters. These
 
 224 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 letters, written in the following order, were afterward in 
 closed in one envelope and sent by a trusty messenger of 
 the landlord to the post-office in time to catch the mid 
 night mail, which would bring them to their destination 
 the following morning. The first letter ran thus : 
 
 " PHII.A., Xov. 10, ]>::. 
 
 ' MY I>I:AR KMILY : This is the lirst letter I have ever written you. 
 I write it with a sad luit loving heart, i'or I ask you to forgive me. know 
 ing how nnieh I need your forgiveiuss and feeling how little 1 deserve 
 it, and yet so conscious that I can never he happy again without it. 
 
 " Oh, if 1 could only lilot out the memory of tin's morning, how happy 
 should I he ! "What evil spirit possessed me to speak so unkindly to you, 
 to treat you so cruelly? And when 1 loved you so much! so much, 
 indeed, that now I pen these words with the hitter tears of remorse, that 
 you may the better know how much I loved you then, how much I love 
 you now ! 
 
 "1 beseech yon to forgive me. As it was my first, so shall it be my 
 last ofiense. 1 was not myself. I did not know what I was saying. My 
 lips belied my heart ; my conduct bore false witness of my soul. 1 look 
 back ni)on it all as a dreadful dream, in which, controlled by some 
 d spirit, I spoke and acted so totally contrary to all my feelings 
 toward you. Believe me when I assure you that my faith in you is only 
 equaled by my love. And this faith in you tells me not only that you 
 will be true to me though all the earth should fail, but my love conies 
 now with the aiiirming hope that you will also pardon me as fully and 
 forgive me as truly as you love me. 
 
 " For do yon not love me still ? 1 ask the question, knowing only too 
 well the strength of your love, which has dared so much i'or seliish me. 
 J feel how unworthy I am of so good and true a heart as yours. But if 
 you will only forgive and forget. I will ever strive to show you that my 
 heart can love you faithfully and find its greatest joy in making your 
 happiness the object of my life. 
 
 "Here, alone, surrounded by strangers, with thousands of strange 
 hearts beating around me, I turn my thoughts to you with a grateful 
 if rest. \Yith your dear image in my soul. I can never be utterly 
 lonely, though I miss your sweet voice and the loving touch of your 
 caress. And sad though I be at what I have done to yon, there steals 
 over me now the memory of our happy hours, which echoes in my soul 
 the promise of joys to come, when, knowing me better, you shall love 
 me more, and 1 shall ever be your devoted worshiper. 
 
 "Good-night! I say it with a kiss and sigh of love, which may 
 some good angel hear to your dear pillow ere the night has passed, with 
 a happy, loving dream of me, so unworthy, yet so devoted. 
 
 "Yours, humbly and ever faithfully, 
 
 " YC/LM:Y." 
 
 The second letter, in which he inclosed the first, was 
 this : 
 
 " DEAR AZIKL : How can I sufficiently thank yon for your kind re 
 membrance of me, which this night came forth from its hiding-place to
 
 SCENE IN THE LITTLE BACK OFFICE. 225 
 
 greet me? I do not deserve such a token of affection at your hands. I 
 confess this with shame as I remember the many times I have hurt your 
 feelings )>y repelling your attentions to my comfort and happiness, and 
 the exhibitions of your affection for me. It was mean yes, very un 
 grateful -in me to treat you so, and I hope you will forgive me for it. 
 
 " You were a dear, good nurse to me in those years when I remember 
 no care but yours. You entered into every childish joy and sorrow of 
 mine ; and as 1 grew older, how well I know you were ever my play 
 mate, my champion, and my sole refuge in all times of trouble ! 
 
 "A second mother you were to me, Aziel, and 1 confess it now you 
 were for many years more to me than my own mother. I loved you 
 more, I confided in you more. I can never understand it, but you 
 seemed dearer and nearer to me than she. I loved you freely ; toward 
 her I always felt a restraint which even now I cannot overcome. 
 
 " How wrong and ungrateful it was in me to try to put aside, as some 
 useless thing of the past, the affection I had for you, and still have now ! 
 I thought it was manly to outgrow it, and the sooner to do so, 1 made 
 you cease your old ways toward me. But let youth's folly and failure 
 be forgotten together. I will never again steel my manner against yon. 
 1 will always show you the love I feel for you, and you shall do and say 
 to me whatever your loving heart prompts. 
 
 " Dear old nurse ! As 1 gratefully accept your gift to-night with all 
 my old affection for you coming again into a new and stronger life, so 
 yon must forgive me all the slights of these later years, and believe 
 me now, as ever, Your own boy, 
 
 VOLXKY." 
 
 "P. S. Inclosed you will find a letter to Emily Grundle Will you 
 keep it a secret from mother, and see it safely in Emily's own hands as 
 soon as you can ? If so, my old nurse shall make me far happier than 
 she can imagine. V." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SCENE IN THE LITTLE BACK OFFICE. 
 
 AS Sandy Grill had said, there was trouble at Marsh's 
 mill. Labor and Capital, goaded by the hard times, 
 were having a quarrel. Only half of the factory was 
 moving, the weaving department being idle. The weav 
 ers had struck against a proposed reduction of wages ; 
 and as thus far thev had, by threats and bribes, effect 
 ually prevented others from taking their places, they were 
 waiting with the patient confidence of victory for their 
 employer to accede to their terms. William Marsh did not 
 look like a man to accede to anybody's terms save his own ; 
 and this morning, as he sat in his little back office, out of 
 which he glared upon half a dozen badly-paid clerks, who 
 
 P
 
 226 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 crouched over their books as if in fear of his nigh presence, 
 there \vas an appearance of angry determination about Jlim 
 that did not augur well for the success of the strikers. 
 His thin, tight lips said, " No ; lie would shut up the 
 mill before he would give in to their impudent interfer 
 ence with his business. No " and here he smothered an 
 oath " he would even burn the mill, if that were neces 
 sary to insure his triumph over a set of lawless miscre 
 ants who thought to browbeat him into submission." 
 
 William Marsh was a very positive, domineering man 
 about his mill. Vulgarity would have called him, with 
 more truth than elegance, pig-headed. Here he ruled 
 with a will as inflexible as a piece of shafting, with an 
 authority as unyielding as the frames of his looms, and 
 with a heart as visible as that of a bobbin. But he un 
 derstood working-people thoroughly ; most certainly he 
 thought so, judging from the angular rigidity with which 
 he carried out his views. His best way of getting along 
 with them was to keep them down by having as little 
 intercourse as possible with them, and giving them to 
 understand, first, last and all the time, that his only 
 obligation to them was to pay their wages, and their 
 bounden duty to him was to earn those wages to the 
 very last cent. As to wages, that was a question that 
 never caused him the slightest deliberation at least, on 
 the side of an advance. He knew what he could afford 
 to pay; therefore he should be, and was, the sole judge 
 of the rate of wages ; and if times were such that he 
 could get working-people at rates even below those which 
 he could afford, it was most assuredly his privilege and 
 duty so to do as a prudent and shrewd capitalist. If the 
 working-people could not get high wages, he argued, they 
 ought to be satisfied with low ones. Any wages, of 
 course, were better than none. Let these spendthrifts, 
 who were always in debt, no matter how much they were 
 paid, live within their wages, he said buy fewer good 
 clothes and less rich food. It's the extravagance of the 
 working-people, he asserted, that had brought on the 
 hard times. The country is rich enough. It's the fault 
 of the working-classes that they are poor. If they had 
 been economical and saving, thev would not- be in want
 
 SCENE IN THE LITTLE BACK OFFICE. 227 
 
 now, and trying, as they were, to make up for their ex 
 travagance and neglect by robbing capitalists of their 
 hard savings and foresighted accumulations. 
 
 Thoroughly imbued with these one-sided ideas of his 
 responsibilities, William Marsh had, so far as profits were 
 concerned, run his mill successfully. He had made money 
 lots of it ; but he had made no friends. He was known 
 on 'Change as a very keen man, a shrewd buyer, a sharp 
 seller. Men smiled on him for trade and fawned on him 
 for credit. But no one spoke kindly of him, only talked 
 of him as they would of some patent machine for making 
 money, and a most difficult machine out of which to ex 
 tract it. Nor was his employes' opinion of him such as 
 one would like to have inserted in an obituary notice 
 provided his heirs were so pleased with his will as to give 
 him a respectable post-mortem character. The working- 
 people about William Marsh never looked for the friendly 
 recognition of his eyes as they glided by him. They 
 would sooner have expected to see the spark of sympathy 
 glowing in those of a dead mackerel. They never came 
 to him for advice or guidance or any request, however 
 small. They would sooner have gone into the engine- 
 room and told their troubles to the fly-wheel, and for rest 
 laid their tired hearts on the great whirling belt. No; 
 they readily saw the line of non-intercourse he had drawn 
 between them, and the young from fear, and the older 
 from contempt, never overstepped it. All avoided him as 
 if, like an enemy, he were safest at a distance. Thus they 
 worked for him, caring as little for his success in this world 
 and the next as he did for theirs. 
 
 Such was William Marsh at his mill, on 'Change*and 
 on the street. At home he was another man ruled, not 
 ruling; his manners subdued, his words few and peaceful. 
 A brilliant illustration of the fact was he that the tyrant 
 abroad is a slave at home. Henpecked he was, and most 
 vigorously, and this, being known at the mill by some 
 process of social telegraphy, was no little satisfaction and 
 consolation to his employes. They regarded Mrs. Marsh 
 as a providential avenger of his harshness to them, and 
 derived some daily comfort from their knowledge that, 
 snub and harass them as he might, when he reached home
 
 228 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 lie would receive the same measure of tyranny lie had 
 meted out to them. Just now, the hands at Marsh's mill 
 were discomfiting their employer verv much as his wife 
 had done in the earlv years of their matrimonial life, be 
 fore he had learned who was master at the fireside; for a 
 controlling authority soon asseried itself there, with two 
 temperaments so uncongenial and warlike beneath the same 
 roof. His wife's contests with him had been successful. 
 It had been a long series of engagements, in which he 
 had retreated from citadel to citadel, to find his supply of 
 courage growing less and less and his powers of resistance 
 weaker. But he unconditionally surrendered at last. In 
 all disputes now she had but to say " William !" in that 
 peculiar intonation of voice, with a slow and rising inflec 
 tion, and he ceased to argue, became as docile as a lamb, 
 ami gave up his opinion as quickly as a dog docs a bone 
 when a stronger antagonist comes upon him. The con 
 flict of authority at the mill had not as yet been so stic- 
 ces-ful on the part of his opponents. To be sure, the 
 weavers had gone out and left their looms idle just in the 
 midst of a large and profitable contract. But new hands, 
 driven by poverty and despair, were daily applying, in 
 large numbers, for work at any price, so that they might 
 live', and there was a prospect that the looms would soon 
 be running despite the watchful attempts of the strikers 
 to prevent it. And now, to add to the complications of 
 the situation for the proprietor, he had been told this 
 morning by his confidential clerk, Silas Roe, that the 
 picking- and carding- and spinning-rooms were getting 
 ready to strike if the weaving-room should be run with 
 new hands. 
 
 " Let them strike, and starve ! What do I care?" said 
 William Marsh with a curl of his thin, clean-shaven lip. 
 "I have a mind to discharge them all this very day.'' 
 
 "Don't you think it would be good policy," asked Silas 
 Hoe with a timid inclination of his head and a hesitating 
 tone 'in his voice, "to take the weavers back until we 
 finish this contract, and then gradually weed them out, 
 patting in their places u'ood hands upon whom we can 
 rely?" 
 
 " Xot a bit of it not a bit of it ! I'll have mv wav if
 
 SCEXK iy THE LITTLE BACK OFFICE. 229 
 
 I have to summon police-officers to protect me in my rights. 
 Things have come to a fine pass in this country when a 
 man cannot employ whom he will ! But I'll do it if I 
 sink every dollar I've got in the attempt. Some one has 
 got to take a linn stand against this spirit of communism 
 which I prophesied long ago would come and I am 
 that man. So, let them do their worst, I'll be ready for 
 them ; and that they may thoroughly understand with whom 
 they have to deal, you can at dinner-hour tell the fore 
 men what I have just said." 
 
 "Yes; that will be the best thing to do," said Silas Roe, 
 changing his opinion with his usual promptness to suit 
 that of his" employer, for he had at present very much at 
 stake with this man. " These working-people ought to be 
 shown just where they stand in relation to capital. I don't 
 know of anybody better able to cope with them than you 
 are, Mr. Marsh. You always did have the knack of man 
 aging them and keeping them down to their work." 
 
 " I'll show them the power of capital as well as its 
 . rights. The lesson will be one they'll remember for many 
 a day. They'll find out to their sorrow the difference be 
 tween starving and living;" and a smile of threatening 
 evil played over his face as he dismissed his clerk with a 
 wave of his hand and resumed his occupation with the 
 papers upon his desk. 
 
 Silas Roe went back to his ledger in the adjoining room. 
 As he leaned over this book, which told of a year's heavy 
 profits, he muttered, away down in his heart : 
 
 "A. meaner man than he never owned a dollar! I would 
 wish to be poor all my life if I had to make my money 
 as he has done, by grinding everybody down and treating 
 human beings as if they were cattle, to toil and sweat and 
 stagger under burdens too heavy to carry. Thank Heaven 
 he'll get paid for it some day ! if not here, in the Here 
 after. The more I see of such men, the more certain am 
 I of another world, where we poor devils shall get even 
 with them. There will not be any close-fisted capitalists 
 in heaven, that's certain ! And to think that so hard 
 hearted a man should have so sweet a daughter as Harr.'et! 
 Harriet !" 
 
 As he murmured this name his face relaxed into a softer 
 
 20
 
 230 AS IT MAY HAPPEX. 
 
 expression. He drew from his pocket a photograph, upon 
 which he was soon gazing so absorbed ly that he forgot all 
 else save that this dear face was his own that of his 
 affianced wife, whose wedding-day was already fixed. The 
 wedding-day! Oh, day of days! His mind went off on 
 such a sweet and glorious ramble with hope and love and 
 jov those fleet-footed rovers of youthful hearts that he 
 was not easily called back to his matter-of-fact surround 
 ings by the voice at his elbow. It was only when his arm 
 was gently touched that he started, and turning saw stand 
 ing beside him a young man with hat and valise in hand. 
 Already the other clerks were quizzically regarding this 
 new coiner with askant looks over their shoulders, while 
 their pens went on sputtering with a semblance of work 
 for the benefit of the ears of the stern man in the little 
 back office. 
 
 "What do you want?" asked Roe with something of 
 the quick, impatient manner of his employer. "Come to 
 answer that advertisement? Well, you'll find Mr. Marsh 
 in that room," jerking his head in the designated direc 
 tion and turning again to his ledger, between the leaves 
 of which he had deftly slipped the photograph. 
 
 The young man went to the room thus curtly pointed 
 out with a hesitating step and apprehensive face, which 
 told full well how confused he Mas by the strangeness of 
 his surroundings and agitated by the cool indifference of 
 his reception, and knocked with a fearful faintness upon 
 the door. It was with difficulty he could summon resolu 
 tion to push it open in response to the quick, gruff sum 
 mons to come in. As he did so, and entered, he saw a 
 face so cold and vacant looking up at him that his hopes 
 quicklv descended far below the freezing-point, and he 
 stood irresolute and silent. 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 The same question that had been asked him in the 
 other room, the same harsh, rasping tone, only more sug 
 gestive now of the power of refusal. 
 
 " I have come to answer your advertisement " 
 
 " Is that all ?" interrupted the man with an. impatient 
 fling of the hand. "Then you can wait till I am ready 
 to attend to you. I haven't time just now to talk about
 
 SCENE IN THE LITTLE BACK OFFICE. 231 
 
 so small a matter ;" and he returned to his writing with 
 an absorption as complete as if his visitor were a thousand 
 miles away. * 
 
 The young man, not daring to set down his valjse or 
 take a seat for he had not been asked to do either, though 
 he looked dusty and tired stood waiting, it seemed to 
 him an age, for Mr. Marsh to speak to him again. JJut 
 the pen scratched on as monotonously as if it were writing 
 the world's will with a hundred codicils attached, and the 
 man's face, as Volney watched it with something of a 
 feeling akin to awe, grew more and more repellent, the 
 sharp features more scornful, as if a small volcano of 
 wrath were gradually pushing itself to the surface. At 
 last the pen was thrown aside with an air of triumph. 
 Folding up what he had written, the mill-owner put it 
 in a large envelope, and, directing this, struck sharply 
 upon a bell that stood upon the table. Its summons 
 was quickly answered by Silas Roe, to whom Mr. Marsh 
 gave the package, saying, 
 
 " Take this down to the office of the Courier. Tell 
 them I want it published in to-morrow's issue. It is time 
 these working-people got a quietus through the public 
 press. This article will show them up in their true 
 colors as the enemies of law and order. If the proprie 
 tors of the Courier should refuse to publish this, you can 
 stop rny advertisement. I'll support no paper that goes 
 against my interests and the welfare of society. That's 
 all; go!" and Silas went. 
 
 Then turning to the youthful stranger, who felt very 
 much by this time as if he had been entrapped into a lion's 
 den, he said, looking through and over him, a favorite 
 method of his in the inspection of working-people, 
 
 " So you want work bad enough to come after it, do 
 you? That's a good sign shows you are not waiting for 
 somebody to come along and put bread and butter into 
 your mouth for nothing. Who are you ? Where did 
 you come from ?" 
 
 " My name, sir, is Slade. I have come from the 
 country. ! " 
 
 "Oh, from the country, are you? That's a bad sign 
 very bad. Shows an unsteady character when a man of
 
 232 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 your age leaves his home to wander around cities. Tired 
 of hard work and looking for some easy job, I suppose? 
 But you have com* to the wrong plaee if you expect to 
 earn money here without working hard for it." 
 
 "I am \villing to work hard, sir, if you will only give 
 me a chance." 
 
 " Yes, of course/' broke in the other with a sneer ; 
 "that's what you all say. But when you're given a 
 chance you never improve it, except to make war upon 
 the hand that feeds you. You look meek enough no\v, 
 but von would join a strike, I suppose, as soon as any of 
 them." 
 
 Volney Slade's face flushed. He drew himself up 
 with a quiet dignity and looked the man steadily in the 
 eye, while upon his lips trembled a bold and contemptu 
 ous reply to this insulting speech. But prudence gained 
 the mastery over his courage, and after a pause he replied 
 in a voice that trembled with the feeling he could not 
 wholly repress: 
 
 " I am sorry, sir, you condemn me Avithout a trial. 
 However I may appear to you now, I am sun 1 of one 
 thing that if employed by you I can show myself grate 
 ful to my employer at all times and in all places." 
 
 "That's a very good speech, but I have heard it often 
 before. They all talk that way. Gratitude! I have 
 been employing people the last twentv years, and I have 
 never yet seen any of it. Gratitude! It sounds well 
 alongside of committees and dictation and threats and 
 strikes. Well, what do you know about machinery?" 
 
 " Nothing practically, sir, but I am sure I could soon 
 learn to be of service to you." 
 
 "Ah, indeed !" raising his eyebrows with an ironical 
 smile. " Y 7 ou think you could soon learn and be of ser 
 vice, do you? What then ? Why, you would go off and 
 leave me in the lurch for some situation where you could 
 get fifty cents more a week. I would teach vou, and some 
 body else would get the benefit of my trouble. That I 
 have done a great many times. It's a phase of gratitude 
 with which I am very familiar." . 
 
 "I hope the ingratitude of others will not keep you 
 from giving me a trial," pleaded Volney, for he began to
 
 SCENE IN THE LITTLE BACK OFFICE. 233 
 
 feel that the promise of this situation was fast slipping 
 from him. "I will do my best to please you." 
 
 "How much wages do you expect?" asked the man 
 after a short silence, in which he had been critically sur 
 veying with his steel-gray eyes the entire form of his vis 
 itor, as if he were a new machine on inspection. 
 
 " Whatever you choose to pay. Wages are not so much 
 an object with me as learning the trade." 
 
 "The old story again. Wages no object now, but as 
 soon as you have learned something, then the wages will 
 be everything and the trade nothing. Another phase of 
 gratitude, with which I am also acquainted. Are you 
 married ?"' 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "That's so much in your favor. You can live on less 
 and work with better attention. Marriage is the bane 
 of workingmen. They marry before they are able to 
 support wives and children. What is the consequence? 
 Why, their wives and children die by thousands, fill our 
 almshouses and go begging in droves along our streets. 
 A poor man ought to stay single. It is his duty to him 
 self, to his employer and to society. You have nobody 
 dependent on you no father or mother, or brother or 
 sister ?" 
 
 "No, sir; I have only my own living to make." 
 
 " That's another thing in your favor. Shows that you 
 have not looked upon this mill as an almshouse, out of 
 which you expect to feed and clothe a herd of relatives at 
 my expense. Well, I will give you a trial and see how 
 good you can make your promises of gratitude and devo 
 tion. You may prove an exception to the rule, though I 
 doubt it." 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you," said Volney, draw 
 ing a sigh of relief, and his eyes brightening for the first 
 time since he had entered the room. " I know I shall not 
 disappoint you." 
 
 "Report to me a week from to-day. A place will be 
 ready for you at that time. Your wages will be six dol 
 lars a week. You can get board anywhere around here 
 for four dollars. That will leave you a good margin for 
 savings. At the end of six months, if you prove your- 
 
 20 *
 
 234 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 self capable, industrious and sober, I will add four dollars 
 a week to your wages, and increase them from year to year 
 as you become valuable. Xo\v I have given yon a chance, 
 despite mv first impressions of you. Report here in a 
 weelc, and let me see how much you deserve my kindness. 
 You can go now/' abruptly motioning toward the door. 
 
 The young man hesitated a moment, and then began to 
 give expression to his thankfulness in stammering words, 
 yet words as earnest as the gratitude he really felt. The 
 situation was his at last. He had a chance for fortune 
 now. His dreams were coming true. These thoughts so 
 confused him with their sudden rush of joy that he for 
 got for the instant where he was. The tears blinded his 
 eyes. He put up his hand to brush them away, and did 
 not see the man impatiently beckoning him to be gone. 
 
 "Come, start along," said Mr. Marsh, "and keep that 
 keen edge on your gratitude till I see you again. And 
 another thing : when you leave here, go straight to your 
 home. Don't loiter around tin's mill, or have a word to 
 say to any of the hands as to who you are or what your 
 business is, or what I have said to you. If you do, you 
 will lose your situation, that's all. Go !" 
 
 Once outside the mill, Volney found that he would have 
 to press his way through a small group of determined men 
 and women who stood about the door and put themselves 
 in his path as if they would hold a parley with him. They 
 were a committee of striking weavers, who were waiting 
 for an audience with their late employer. They had been 
 selected by their associates to make one more appeal to him 
 to be taken back at the old wages, which they were armed 
 with arguments and facts to prove were barely sufficient 
 to obtain the necessaries of life. Xo wonder these men and 
 women, feeling they were engaged in an unequal contest 
 for what they thought their rights, looked upon this new 
 comer with scowling faces and threatening eyes. They 
 surmised full well what had been his errand, and with an 
 intuition quick as the deft fingers of their hands they saw 
 by the confident, satisfied look on his face that he had been 
 successful . 
 
 " I sav, my friend," spoke a tall, brawny, brown-bearded 
 man, striding after Volney, who was congratulating him-
 
 SCENE IN THE LITTLE BACK OFFICE. 235 
 
 self upon having escaped the group unquestioned, and lay 
 ing a huge, sinewy, bare arm upon his shoulder, " have 
 you been hunting for work in there?" 
 
 " That's a question I cannot answer," replied Volney 
 with all the firmness he could command in his voice, and 
 looking up with an unsteady gaze at the begrimed face 
 that towered above him a face soiled with dust and oil 
 and perspiration, yet with features as sharply defined as 
 if they were lines of steel, and with eyes that glowed as 
 steadily as the fires that burned in the furnace the man 
 had left but a moment ago. 
 
 " Why can't you answer it?" demanded he, with a trifle 
 of menace "in his voice. "Are you ashamed to tell that 
 you have been trying to steal our living from us, sneak 
 ing around hci*e to get a job that don't belong to you, and 
 never shall ?" 
 
 " My business is my own," asserted Volney with a dig 
 nity that for an instant surprised the man. 
 
 Then, quickly shaking off the other's hold, he turned 
 rapidly away, and left the man looking after him with 
 brows that lowered more and more as the head shook 
 itself with slow threatening gestures. 
 
 " What did he say, Keddic ?" asked several of the 
 group, running up to where he stood still silently gaz 
 ing after the retreating form. 
 
 " Say !" repeated the machinist with a mocking laugh 
 as he tossed his head contemptuously in the direction of 
 the mill. " Why, he said just what old bobbin-scraper 
 yonder will say when we go in to see him : ' None of y< tin- 
 business !' What other answer do you want than that? 
 It's short and sweet, isn't it ? What better salt do you 
 poor devils ask to put in your porridge ? None of your 
 business ! as the hangman said to the fellow on the gal 
 lows ;" and he laughed on louder than before. 
 
 A hollow and harsh laugh it was, but the group under 
 stood its meaning, for without a word, only shrugging 
 their shoulders with quiet satisfaction, they followed 
 him, leading the way to the mill.
 
 236 AS JT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 GETTING READY FOR SOMETHING. 
 
 WHATEVER intentions stirred the heart of Nicholas 
 Grundle to-day, he well kept them a secret with his 
 lips, though his elastic step and bright eyes and bustling 
 movements betrayed the fact that he was laboring under 
 an excitement as pleasant and absorbing as it was unusual 
 with him. Long before daylight he had risen from his 
 bed, where lie had passed nearly the whole night in plan 
 ning his cunning scheme. Moving about on tiptoe, lest 
 he should waken the sleeper in the next room, he lighted 
 the candle and began the first work which he had laid out 
 for the day. This was the writing of the deed which was 
 to convey in fee simple the title of his farm to J. Lawrence 
 Adams for the consideration of twenty thousand dollars. 
 Before he had retired he had got together all things neces 
 sary for his task, so that they were ready at his hand now 
 as he seated himself at the little table. There was fresh 
 ink in the bottle, and a new goose- quill, and before him 
 lay spread open his own deed a dingy yellow parch 
 ment. Alongside of this document was the blank deed, 
 taken from a bundle of similar legal papers readv for fill 
 ing out and executing, a supply of which, bv some strange 
 foresight, he purchased years ago, though never until now 
 had he occasion to use one of them. He was an odd sight 
 bending over the table, his eyes brighter than the light of 
 many candles such as this, though the hand which held the 
 pen was at first a- unsteadv as the flickering flame. Avarice 
 soon gave it a steadier grasp, and he wrote on in firm, bold 
 letters, copying word after word without hesitation or error. 
 Several times he stopped and pushed back the locks of his 
 white hair, that fell athwart his vision when he leaned too 
 closely to the paper. Once he held his pen in suspense 
 and turned his eyes with a sharp gaze in the direction of 
 the window. But it was oulv the branch of a tree swaved 
 by the wind that had touched the casement, and not the 
 hand of prowler, spy or thief. 
 
 When his task was at last finished, and he had signed
 
 GETTING READY FOR SOMETHING. 237 
 
 his name with a .smile that rippled out in a suppressed 
 chuckle, the daylight was alreadv coming into the room. 
 The shadows by which he had been surrounded had van 
 ished like spirits of the night, and the candle at his side 
 was hut a tiny spot of yellow light, sickly wavering in the 
 gleam of day. Quickly snuffing the caudle, he folded the 
 deeds, the ne\v one in creases exactly like those of the old, 
 and stowed them in the capacious pocket of Ins coat. He 
 made his way down stairs, rapping on Emily's door and 
 cheerily calling to her in a voice as happy as that which hon: 
 back her morning greeting. When he reached the bottom 
 of the little stairway, C\csar stood waiting for him, and 
 licked his- hands with a whine of recognition. The old 
 man stooped and spoke to him softly and patted his head 
 something he had not done these three days past, as 
 Caesar well remembered. Followed by the dog, he groped 
 his way across the dark room and threw open a shutter. 
 In another instant his eyes were on the cellar-door, and 
 then on the corner where the valise had been left the night 
 before. The door was closed ; the valise was still there. 
 Retried the door; it was locked, lie crept over to the 
 valise, and slowly pulling aside the; carpet shook the valise 
 with his hand. It was just as heavy as when he had tried 
 its weight again and again before going to bed. He ex 
 amined the padlock. It lay in the same position in which 
 he had placed it for the detection of the slightest move 
 ment. The treasure was still in his possession. Anxieiy 
 no longer clouded his countenance. The old covetous 
 smile came back with swift intensity. He stood trem 
 bling with joy, looking down upon the valise with rapt 
 eagerness in his face, as if lie could not wait another 
 moment for its contents to be revealed. At last, restrain 
 ing himself with a sigh of impatience, he slowlv dropped 
 the carpet over it and walked away, rubbing his hands in 
 silent glee. Of course he had known it was safe enonj.li, 
 for who could have touched it in the night without his 
 hearing the slightest sound? Nevertheless, sure as he was 
 of its custody, it was so reassuring and so exhilarating to 
 see it again. 
 
 He now threw open all the shutters, started a fire, and 
 again calling Emily went out to the little barn faster than
 
 238 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 he had ever gone in that direction since the day of his 
 first taking possession of the place. The cow was startled 
 indeed by the briskness with which he opened the door 
 and the unusual quantity of cut feed he soon threw into 
 her manger. Even the hens that flew down at his feet 
 from all quarters of the barn were no less astonished than 
 old Brindle at the plentiful supply of corn he scattered 
 among them. What had come over him, that he gave 
 them now in one meal that which he had formerly doled 
 out in three? Another time he would have doubted his own 
 sanity for doing so. Brindle could not understand it, for 
 she had suddenly stopped eating, and turning her head was 
 looking at him in a very questioning way out of her great 
 brown eves. And the hens, too, cocked up their heads at 
 him, and winked their eyes and clucked inquiringly, as if 
 they too would like some solution to this sudden lavish- 
 ness of food. For answer he gave them a shrill laugh 
 followed by a series of chuckles as he tossed more corn 
 among them ; and climbing the mow with the agility of a 
 boy, he threw down into the rack of Brindle's manger 
 such a huge pile of hay that she tugged at her chain as if 
 she thought all the contents of the floor were coming 
 down upon her. Hurrying from the barn, he went back 
 to the house, skipping and trotting by turns, his face all 
 aglow with his strange excitement. Meeting Emily at 
 the door, he cried out, catching her in his arms and kiss 
 ing her, 
 
 " Good-morning, my child ! Your eyes are bright, and 
 so are mine. Ah ! who cannot be joyful when good for 
 tune is coming to them ? It is the heart's best medicine; 
 and the bigger the dose, the better, say I. Breakfast not 
 ready yet ?" he continued, glancing at the table, which sac 
 had just placed in position, with only the cloth spread 
 upon it. "So much the better, for while you are getting 
 it I will go over to O'Hara's. I have some business with 
 him that is best settled this morning before he is off to his 
 work. Take care, my child, while I am gone, that no one 
 enters our cottage. I will be in sight of you all the time 
 from this door. Should anybody come, you can signal to 
 me with a towel. Ctesar, there, will help you keep watch." 
 He caught up his cane a quaintly-twisted hickory and
 
 GETTING BEADY FOE SOMETHING. 239 
 
 with a cautious shake of his head and finger at her started 
 at a brisk pace down the garden-path. 
 
 The girl gazed after him with a puzzled look upon her 
 anxious face. What was the matter with her father, so 
 changed in a day in all his ways? If he had acted 
 strangely the day before., he was certainly acting more so 
 now. This was the first time since the housekeeper's 
 death that he had ever left her alone or out of his hearing 
 save yesterday, when he had sent her with the locket to the 
 farm-house. What business could he have with O'Hara, 
 a man she had seen him more than once order away from 
 the place with curses and threats ? What if bodily harm 
 should befall him? she asked herself with a little start ef 
 aprehension as she saw him leap across the brook and 
 clamber rapidly up the hill on which the cottage of 
 O'Hara stood, in a clearing in full view half a mile 
 away. 
 
 Excited by her doubts and apprehensions, she called 
 Caesar to her side. Pie reluctantly left his watch by the 
 valise to come to her. As he did so she stooped down, and 
 laying her hand upon his head pointed in the direction of 
 O'Hara's, saying in a voice so earnest that the dog prick 
 ed up his ears and gazed steadfastly across the fields, growl 
 ing assent, as it were, to her words, 
 
 " Caesar, yonder is your dear, good master. If I should 
 tell you to go to him, you must run faster, dear Csesa'r, 
 than ever you ran for me. Will you?" The dog wagged 
 his tail a dozen times for "Yes!" 
 
 Meanwhile, Nicholas Grundle had reached the cottage 
 of O'Hara. He had no need to announce his coming, 
 for already a crowd of little O'Haras, standing in the 
 doorway, had welcomed him with a series of yells, from 
 the faint treble of the baby to the whoop of the largest 
 boy. Now, as he drew nearer, they were shrinking away 
 and holding fast to each other for mutual protection. 
 Although there was a smile on his face, it was so grim 
 and full of wrinkles they took it for a frown such as 
 Jack the Giant-Killer might have worn. 
 
 "The top o' the mornin' to ye, Mister Grumble," said 
 a broad, jolly-faced woman, coming to the door and plant- 
 in"; herself like a huo;e tower of defence in the midst of
 
 240 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 her children, who, taking fresh courage, be^an to look up 
 at him with quizzical expressions and half-subdued laugh 
 ter, as if he were some bio; jack-in-the-box who had 
 popped up before them. " Simrely there must be money 
 in the field.-? this mornin' to bring the likes of ye out so 
 airly. Is it Dennis ye want ? He's at the barn beyant. 
 Mind ye spake to him civilly, Mister Grumble, for Den 
 nis has his bad blood b'ilin' hard this mornin'. It's a 
 dispute I've bin havin' wid him, an' shure it's the wurst 
 o' the argument he's got. So keep a civil tongue in yer 
 head, Mister Grumble." 
 
 The old man turned away and went to the barn with 
 if contemptuous toss of his head, which elicited from Mrs. 
 O'Hara aloud and derisive remark, and from the children 
 a churns of yells. Here he found Dennis with one of his 
 eys in a state of inflammation that aptly illustrated one 
 phase of gd ting the worst of a matrimonial argument. 
 
 "Mr. OMIara," he said with a nod of recognition 
 and coming immediately to business, " can you keep a 
 seen" 9 
 
 "If it's worth the kapin', I can kape it safe as ye kape 
 yer piles of goold, Mister Gruntlc, or Mister Grumble, or 
 whatever yer name may be," replied the Irishman with 
 something of a sneer iu his good-humored laugh. 
 
 "The secret is not a great one," resume;! Grundle; 
 "but if kept, it will be worth more to yon than if told." 
 
 ' Will it, indade? Thin my mouth' will be like a bell 
 without a clapper for yer see-ret. So spake on, soft and 
 aisy ;" and the man drew nearer to him. "The ould 
 woman beyant has ears like the sky, that catches every 
 sound a-goin', an' lets thim out ag'in like a ponrin' rain." 
 
 "Can you bring your horse and cart to my place to 
 morrow morning at five o'clock ?" asked the miser, in a 
 semi-whisper, cautiously peering over his shoulder to 
 anticipate Mrs. O'llara's approach. 
 
 " Ov coorse I ken. At midnight, if ye like." 
 
 "No; at five o'clock, rain or shine remember, rain or 
 shine," repeated Grundle, casting his eyes around the sky, 
 which was already portending rain. 
 
 "An' is that all yer sacrer, Mr. Grumble?" 
 
 "It's as much, I'll warrant, as yon can keep," muttered
 
 GETTING READY FOR SOMETHING. 241 
 
 the other with a suggestive nod of his head in the direc 
 tion of the dwelling, at the corner of which stood Mrs. 
 O'llara, regarding them with arms akimbo. "And," he 
 added, suddenly lowering his voice to the faintest whisper, 
 " if yon can bring some ready cash with yon, Mr. O'Hara, 
 I can sell yon the cow and other things so cheap that you 
 will make a good deal of money out of your bargains. 
 This is another secret for you to keep." Then, elevating 
 his voice, so that the woman might hear, and clrolly 
 winking at the man, he cried, "Good-morning, then, Mr. 
 O'Hara ! Since you will not sell your horse and wagon, 
 of course I cannot buy them." 
 
 " Is it for buyin' the horse an' wagon ye came?" yelled 
 the woman after him as he started off. " Shu re, ye wud 
 be chatin' Dennis out o' his eyes wid me standin' by him. 
 Nayther horse nor wagon ye will git, ye ould goold- 
 pincher ! Go 'long wid ye, ye dhirty ould miser ! 
 Shure, the likes of ye wud part wid a blessin' any 
 day fur a penny !" 
 
 The miser paid no heed to this parting salute, which 
 grew less and less distinct as he hastened away. Compli 
 ments of this nature were so usual with him that they had 
 lost all power to arrest his attention. His eyes were 
 fastened on the door of his cottage, which had never 
 been out of his sight for more than an instant during 
 his brief absence. He saw Emily still standing in the 
 doorway where he had left her. He waved his hand in 
 greeting to her as he hurried along, brandishing his cane, 
 and now and then giving vent to his happy feelings in 
 snatches of songs that were broken as the treble of his 
 voice, but gay as the flow of his thoughts. When he 
 reached his home he made no allusion to where be had 
 been or the object of his going, and to Emily's ques 
 tioning looks he replied only with a cheery laugh and 
 a pat upon her cheek. 
 
 " Some day soon I will tell you all," he said, seating 
 himself at the table, where she had silently followed him, 
 unable to conceal her look of disappointment at his ret 
 icence. " This much I will tell you now : good fortune 
 is coming to us. That is what makes me so happy ; and 
 it must make you happy, too, my little woman-child. Ah! 
 21 Q
 
 242 AS IT MAY 
 
 I knew our life would not be always under a cloud. I 
 was sure the sun would shine as brightly for us as it does 
 for others not half so worthy. Clouds will pass away ; 
 the sun must shine to-morrow, if not to-day. There is 
 always more blue sky than black, and our sky shall soon 
 be all blue." 
 
 Thus he rattled on through the meal, his spirits so 
 buoyant that the girl, despite his equivocal refusals to 
 answer any of her questions as to what their coming good 
 fortune might be, caught the contagion of his hopeful merri 
 ment, and happy anticipations drove every shadow from 
 her face. It must be, she thought, the best of fortunes 
 coming to them that made him so joyful, so very unlike 
 himself, with that constant smile upon his face and the 
 happy look in his eyes. Yet her heart now asked, with a 
 secret sigh, as her father left the table and went up the 
 stairs, what was any good-fortune for her compared to the 
 love of him who was far away whose image grew brighter 
 in her soul with every hour of separation ? The world 
 could give her no good fortune unless it were that of his 
 loving heart. Oh, if she only knew whether she should 
 see him again whether, as his mother had said, he would 
 soon come back to tell her how much he loved her! If he 
 should come back and her heart whispered he would 
 what then? Why, she would forgive him even before he 
 could ask her. Forgive him ! What had she to forgive, 
 when it was she herself who had made him angry? Xo, 
 no; it was not his fault. To be sure, he had gone away 
 in anger from her; but she was to blame, and she would 
 tell him this and promise never to annoy him so again. 
 With these and many loving thoughts that brought the 
 softest look into her eyes and the daintiest blush upon her 
 cheeks, she rose from her chair and went about her little 
 round of household work. 
 
 Her tranquil and happy heart made every task so light 
 and the time flv so fast that it seemed but a few monienis 
 before the morning duties were performed and she found 
 herself sitting by the fireplace, with her knitting in her 
 hands, waiting for her father to come down and begin the 
 instructions of the day. What kept him so long in his 
 room, moving about so quietly she could just hear his
 
 GETTING READY FOR SOMETHING. 243 
 
 light footsteps as he now and then crossed the floor above 
 her head ? This question, like many others that had puz 
 zled her little brain this morning, she could not answer. 
 AVhatevcr he was doing, it was something, she felt, he was 
 trying to keep secret from her ; for when he entered the 
 room, she remembered he turned the key in the lock a 
 signal, he had often told her, that meant he wished to be 
 alone ; that she must neither come near him nor ask him 
 what he had been doing. Suddenly just how or why 
 she never could tell her thoughts left her father and 
 went speeding across the fields to the farm-house ; and 
 with her thoughts went her eyes, for in full view of the 
 window where she sat was that house around which al 
 ready the fondest hopes of her heart, were clustering. It 
 was there Volney's mother lived. That was the place to 
 which he shoukl soon return. There, perhaps, she would 
 meet him again. Perhaps and her heart gave a little 
 throb of joy it might be her home with him some day, 
 too. 
 
 What was the dark object she saw moving away from 
 the house and coming swiftly down to the pine woods 
 where she and his mother had met? She rose from her 
 chair and eagerly gazed at this object. To her keen sight 
 it soon revealed itself as a woman a woman dressed in 
 black. Was it his mother? How she longed to meet 
 that sweet, gentle woman again who had talked so kindly 
 and hopefully to her! The woman had disappeared in 
 the woods now, but as Emily's eyes still rested with a 
 longing and loving expression on the spot where she had 
 vanished she saw her appear again a few moments later. 
 This time her pace was even quicker, and she came rapidly 
 down along the bank of the brook toward the willow 
 copse. Reaching this, she stood motionless, evidently 
 looking intently in the direction of Nicholas Grundle's 
 cottage. The watcher by the window, whose heart was 
 loudly beating now, thought she saw the woman raise her 
 hand with a beckoning motion, holding some small white 
 object in it. Was it a letter, and from him ? And was 
 his dear, good mother bringing it to her? The girl could 
 hardly control her agitation. These questions made her 
 heart flutter and her head grow dizzy. What should she
 
 244 AS IT MAT HAPPEN. 
 
 do? Already her knitting had fallen upon the floor, and 
 she stood trembling and irresolute. But love is ever 
 stronger than fear. Although every hesitating step she 
 took was made harder by the fear of her father, whose 
 distant tread seemed to sound in her ears like some dread 
 ful warning, she reached the door and opened it. 
 
 The woman still stood, statue- like, in the willow copse. 
 Nor did she make any motion of recognition as Emily 
 appeared in the doorway. Only, as before, she slowly 
 raised her hand with the white parcel in it, and then, low 
 ering her arm, outlined the object more visibly against the 
 dark background of her dress. Tins she did several 
 times; then, slowly moving to the fallen tree-trunk, she 
 stooped and laid the white thing upon it. This done she 
 looked back at Emily, turned away, and went on across 
 the fields in the direction of the village. At this moment 
 Cassar, who, unknown to his mistress, had been an atten 
 tive observer of this pantomime, darted from the house. 
 Before the girl could summon her voice to call him back 
 he had reached the willow copse, and was already bound 
 ing toward her with something white between his teeth. 
 Leaping upon the step, he laid an envelope at her feet 
 with a joyous bark, as if he knew how happy its posses 
 sion would make her. For a moment she could only fall 
 upon her knees, and with hands convulsively clasped gaze 
 down upon it, reading its superscription with eyes suffused 
 with tears of joy. Xo need to tell her this was a letter 
 from him. She would have known his writing had she 
 seen it anywhere in the wide, wide world. With a hesita 
 tion she could not understand, and with blushes that came 
 she knew not why, she put out her hand with a tender ges 
 ture to take up the letter. But while her hand was hover 
 ing over it, another hand than hers, wrinkled and bloodless 
 that of her father she saw it was reached over her 
 shoulder and plucked the letter from her very grasp.
 
 STUEDY LOVE NOT SO EASILY REPULSED. 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 STURDY LOVE NOT SO EASILY REPULSED. 
 
 WITH the first consciousness of requited love a woman 
 enfolds herself in a sweet reserve and tender mys 
 tery. Wishing to conceal her sacred happiness from the 
 rude gaze of the world, she wraps her face and heart in 
 the veil of secrecy, and in the sweet nurture of silence 
 watches with breathless joy the growth of her passion, 
 filling the soul with a rapture too precious for expression. 
 On the contrary, a man, as soon as he has found out that 
 his love has been successful, suddenly loses the reticence 
 of manner which characterized the pursuit of the object 
 of his affections. His smiling face and confident bearing 
 plainly tell the world, always curious enough in such mat 
 ters, that he is no longer in doubt that pursuit has ended 
 in possession, the heart of his choice has been won. 
 
 So it was with Rader Craft. No sooner had he left the 
 Green Tree Inn, where Dibbs had assured him of the ex 
 tremely favorable reception of his letter by Aziel Loyd, 
 than he began to walk with an air of spruceness and an 
 elasticity or step that made him look ten years younger. 
 And his countenance how it beamed ! Always smiling, 
 it was now a benediction on every one he passed, as if he 
 were, saying from the depths of his generous heart, " God 
 bless you, fellow-travelers ! May you be as happy as I 
 am !" ' 
 
 Yet not one of those he met guessed the real cause of 
 the gratification which this morning enveloped him in 
 such an atmosphere of benignity and salubrious kindness. 
 To be sure, he had always borne himself toward the people 
 of Slowville Avith a gracious and affectionate manner. He 
 had been a friend to the fatherless, a consoler of widows 
 and an adviser in all good works, temporal and spiritual. 
 But to-day his great heart seemed unable to restrain the 
 most pronounced exhibition of his tenderness and good 
 will. He stooped on his way to his office and kissed a 
 little child, holding it in his arms with such a paternal 
 caress that the action brought the tears to the eyes of Mrs, 
 
 21 *
 
 246 AS IT J/.1F HAPPEN. 
 
 Boozer, who was fondly watching him from behind the 
 curtain of her room. A step farther on he patted an 
 orphan boy upon the head and put into his hand a silver 
 piece that sparkled bright as Mrs. Boozer's tears. Again 
 he halted to speak cheering words to one of the town poor, 
 \vlio had come in from the almsbouse on an errand to the 
 village store. Oh, he could gather all the world into his 
 warm embrace to-day ! 
 
 " What a seraph he is! A perfect cherubim!" said Mrs. 
 Boozer with a hysterical sob. "Oh, if Boozer had been 
 like him, how I could a-loved him ! Yes, Rader Craft, 
 you are an angel ; you only need wings for to waft you to 
 the spirits-land.'' 
 
 Neither Mrs. Boozer, who was a woman who prided her 
 self "on finding out things," nor any of those he had met 
 this morning, had any idea of the cause of the lawyer's 
 exuberant friendship, so conspicuously and variously dis 
 played; and he went into his office carrying his joyous 
 secret with him, though he wished every soul in Slowville 
 knew it this very day ay, this very hour. Giving vent 
 to his happiness in a series of ponderous sighs, he sank 
 into his chair. He folded his hands with a complacent 
 smile and gazed up at the ceiling, murmuring Aziel's name 
 in softest tones, his fat lips pressed in the semblance of a 
 passionate kiss. A long time he sat thus in a delicious 
 reverie, as if he were drinking in the nectar of the fabled 
 gods and breathing the soft and rich perfume of the Elysian 
 fields, his soul floating in an atmosphere of ethereal bliss. 
 AVhat was the law to him now? or the sordid things of 
 earth its bickerings and its quarrels, its fame or its for 
 tune? He was in love in love with a woman whose an 
 gelic form had filled his heart from the very instant his 
 eyes had first caught a glimpse of her in the village church. 
 Ah ! how well he remembered that time when a passing 
 breeze, like the breath of heaven itself, had come through 
 the window above the pew when; she was sitting and tossed 
 aside her veil ! It was then he saw for the first time those 
 heavenlv eyes, those carnation cheeks, those ruby lips and 
 pearly teeth. It was only a moment he had gazed upon 
 her thus, but that moment, with the inspiration of love, 
 had instantaneously pictured upon the chamber of his soul
 
 STURDY LOVE NOT SO EASILY REPULSED. 247 
 
 her eternal photograph. And now she was his his de 
 spite the long months of doubt and anxiety ; his after so 
 many chilling fears that she would be lost to him ; for he 
 had no means of communicating his passion to her save by 
 the hasty and ravishing glanee of his eyes as they peered 
 through her veil when she swept past him into the church 
 or evaded him as she came down the aisle. Strange he 
 had not sooner seen that her avoidance of him was only a 
 womanly reserve, waiting for his more pronounced ad 
 vances a secret sign to him that if he would win her he 
 must woo her with something more than simple and fleet 
 ing looks .of admiration. And so he had. Yes! He had 
 stormed the citadel of her heart with only a pen for his 
 weapon, and had taken it captive by a few plain words. 
 What a powerful letter that was ! 
 
 "Ah! I knew she could not resist me," he exclaimed 
 with a jubilant laugh, rising from his chair and stepping 
 briskly into the room that adjoined his office, where he 
 began to survey himself leisurely in the glass. " A man 
 of position, respectability and means is not to be picked 
 up every day in the matrimonial market by blushing 
 maid, lovely woman or charming widow. Forty-five and 
 slightly bald," running his hand through his hair and 
 bringing up the side locks over his smooth crown. 
 " Well, forty-five is young ay, the vigorous stage of 
 life. As for baldness, that is a sign of hereditary dispo 
 sition or mental activity in my case, both. And where 
 could you find, my dear Miss Aziel Loyd, a better figure 
 than this such a formation of anatomical correctness and 
 physical beauty? Solid and well proportioned, a subdued 
 tendency to corpulency giving a rounded symmetry of 
 form. Ah, Craft, you lucky rogue!" giving himself a 
 sly poke in the fatty integument that covered his ribs; 
 " Nature endowed you liberally with the fascinating pow 
 ers of manly vigor and beauty ! No wonder the women 
 of Slowville have long watched you as the most delicious 
 plum in the hymeneal garden. Ladies," throwing him 
 self proudly back and glancing about him with a look 
 of commiseration, "I am sorry ay, deeply grieved to 
 disappoint your aspirations. I would there were more of 
 me, that by a kindly division of myself I might appease
 
 248 AS IT .MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 your longings. But no ; it cannot be. It only remain. 1 
 for yon, fair dames, to lament the loss of him who could 
 have made your earth a paradise, filling your hearts with 
 an everlasting anthem of joy. Aziel Loyd, the beautiful, 
 the glorious, the seraphic, alone possesses that heart for 
 which you have hoped and sighed in vain !" 
 
 His overflowing feelings somewhat relieved by this 
 apostrophe, he came back into his office. He tried to 
 take up his duties for the dav, which, consisted in the 
 final preparation of a case down on the Court's list for 
 trial on the morrow. It was useless for him to attempt 
 to study. The law, precedents and evidence in the case- 
 jumbled themselves into an inextricable mass. The tur 
 gid verbosity of statutes and opinions finally vanished 
 into Love's lightest fancies. Aziel Loyd's face gleamed 
 up at him from every page. The vanquishing letter he 
 had written her, and which she had read with the in 
 stinctive revelation of her heart, ran through his thoughts 
 with never-ceasing and musical reiteration. Thumpety- 
 bump went his heart. Away his imagination flew witli 
 him to the farm-house, and with a thrill of delight he 
 pictured himself sitting by her side. He poured into her 
 listening ears the wondrous story of his passion, which, 
 Minerva-like, had sprung forth from his soul in the full 
 vigor of supernatural growth. His stars! how gracefully 
 she had yielded to his impetuous assault! He felt her 
 soft breath upon his cheek ; he heard her murmuring 
 words of tenderness like the cooing of a frightened dove; 
 and the throbbing of her heart, which lay fluttering with 
 joy upon his manly breast, made his own heart swell 
 with violent expansions of happiness. 
 
 In this and similar visions, stretching far out into 
 matrimonial life, the hours sped away. The study of 
 the case was resumed at long intervals, but was soon laid 
 aside again for musing thoughts of love ; and now the 
 bell of the village church rang out twelve o'clock. The 
 dinner-hour had come, yet it had brought to him other 
 thoughts than simplv gastronomic ones. The lawver 
 started from his chair with a frown that had been slow 
 ly gathering on his face this last half hour. 
 
 "Silence that dreadful bell !" he exclaimed with a dra-
 
 STURDY LOVE NOT SO EASILY REPULSED. 249 
 
 
 
 matic flourish of his arm. " It summons me to a most 
 unpleasant duty. In its solemn reverberations I hear the 
 knell of Mrs. Boozer's buried hopes. Ere it peals again 
 she will know that I. am lost to her lost for ever ! 
 Would that I could intimate to her the impending ca 
 lamity in some gentle way, so that when it comes it may 
 fall upon her bleeding heart with less crushing weight. 
 But how to do it? Ay, that is the question which I 
 must now decide. To longer delay were cruelty to her 
 and injustice to myself." 
 
 He folded his arms and strode up and down the room, 
 his head bowed and his smile tinged with melancholy. 
 No tender-hearted judge sentencing a prisoner to death 
 could have looked more grave and sad, or yet more 
 fearFess of his duty. 
 
 "A long while ago I apprehended this result," he said, 
 at length, pensively ; "but the responsibility for this mis 
 fortune rests not upon me. I extended to her apparent 
 advances no encouragement, nor did I ever toy in pleasing 
 dalliance with the strong evidences of her affection. No, 
 Ilader Craft, you are as innocent of deceiving her widowed 
 heart as the new-born babe that sleeps for the first time 
 upon its mother's bosom. And yet, doubtless, she will 
 blame me for it all, and call me, ere to-morrow's sun has 
 set, a base, perfidious wretch ; and I must bear her scorn, 
 though I deserve it not. Ah me ! what misery comes to 
 man through woman's unsought love !" 
 
 He put up his hands with a despairing gesture, and tak 
 ing his hat went slowly in the direction of the Green Tree 
 Inn, his countenance firm and resolute, though not with 
 out a touch of sympathy lingering in his solemn eyes. 
 Mrs. Boo/er was waiting for him yes, watching him 
 through the thin muslin curtain with famishing eyes, as 
 she called them. Ever ready to anticipate the sorrows 
 of his lonely life, her heart was instantly touched by 
 his dejected air. It went out to him in a great, gush 
 ing sigh. 
 
 " Poor, dear soul !" she murmured, two big tears slowly 
 making their watery lines upon her cheeks; " how awful 
 lonesome he is ! No one to love him ! Not a heart he 
 can call his own ! Dear, dear ! if he would only take
 
 250 AS IT MAY IIAPPEX. 
 
 mine! Law sakes ! I wonder he don't see how I love 
 him. But he's so innocent about women-folks, the dear, 
 overgrown Jamb! I've done everything to show him, 
 since lie's been a-boarding here, that he can come in any 
 time he wants to and hang up his hat for good. But he 
 don't seem to take. How different from Simon Boozer 
 lie is! Poor Simon hung around me like wax; I 
 couldn't drive him away with a club." 
 
 The lawver rapped upon the door. It was a heavy 
 solitary rap he gave, which sounded to him like a min 
 iature crack of doom for the woman he was so soon to 
 confront. Mrs. Boozer pressed love's copious distilla 
 tion from her eyes, pinched her cheeks for color, and 
 tried to smile with her twitching, quivering lips. She 
 could not summon her tremulous voice to bid him enter, 
 though her famishing eyes yearned for a sight of his 
 fascinating form. Hesitating, blushing and confused she 
 stood, her two hands pressed upon her heart, her eyes 
 bent upon the floor with a maiden's timid glance. He 
 opened the door and came in with a deliberate step. 
 With a measured tread he crossed the room and hung 
 his hat upon the peg. He started a trifle, for on the 
 peg adjoining this one was her bonnet and shawl. Then 
 he-turned slowly around and lifted his eyes, and looked, 
 not at her, standing so patiently at the window, but at the 
 dinner-table. 
 
 She gave a little cough and advanced a step or two, then 
 suddenly stood still ; for the cold, stolid look he cast her, 
 his bare nod of recognition and his frigid smile chilled 
 her heart to its very core. 
 
 "Is dinner ready, Mrs. Boozer? I regret I have kept 
 you waiting,'' he said, drawing out his accustomed chair, 
 his eyes steadily iixed on the smoking leg of mutton, 
 which one of the sisters had just placed upon the table, 
 while the other set down the vegetable-dishes in tasteful 
 array. 
 
 " I can always wait for you," she replied, coming for 
 ward, with a simper ; then, as if suddenly conscious she 
 had spoken too boldly, and assuming an expression of 
 would-be delicate, womanly modesty, she added, stam 
 mering and blushing red as the crimson tie at her throat,
 
 STURDY LOVE NOT SO EASILY REPULSED. 251 
 
 ''I mean I'm always ready for you Mr. Craft. It's 
 no trouble to wait for you." 
 
 "Ah, indeed !" and the lawyer's face grew ominously 
 calm. "Then, if I may be allowed to express myself 
 with something of a rhetorical flourish, you arc pleased, 
 Mrs. Boozer, to exercise in rny behalf woman's noblest 
 prerogatives watching and waiting. Such being the case, 
 my clear madam, pray be seated, and watch my abilities 
 as a carver and wait for some tangible result there 
 from." 
 
 With the frigidity of his smile a trifle relaxed, he waved 
 her to her seat, and taking his own chair with solemn 
 silence began to carve. But never once did he look up 
 at the two melting eyes that watched him across the 
 table. 
 
 " Has anything wrong happened to you this morn 
 ing, Mr. Craft ?" she asked in a timid voice as he pro 
 ceeded with his meal in a silence she knew was very 
 unusual. 
 
 " Why do you propound that proposition ?" he replied, 
 his eyes still fixed upon his plate. "Does my deport 
 ment indicate that I am the objective receptacle of any 
 calamity ?" 
 
 " I don't know what you mean. Please don't talk to 
 me in them big words ; they hurt my feelings, and they're 
 hurt enough now, with you a-aeting so cold to me, as 
 if we \vas strangers ;" and there was a sad reproach 
 and tender pleading in her voice that warned him no 
 longer to delay in turning her heart for ever away from 
 all contemplation of him. 
 
 He suddenly looked full in her face. He was about to 
 speak freely to her, but her warm, ardent gaze checked 
 him. His eyes again sought his plate, and he studied a 
 while how best to turn the current of her affections with 
 out doing sudden violence thereto. At last he laid down 
 his knife and fork with a smile of satisfaction, and said, 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Boozer, you asked me if anything wrong 
 has happened to me. In reply, I would state that noth 
 ing wrong has this clay crossed the path of my existence. 
 Yet I cannot deny that what might happen to me are 
 things I would most avoid, while things I most desire
 
 252 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 might not happen at all. Life, you are well aware, is a 
 s lason of desires and opportunities by no means coexist 
 ent or running parallel with one another. Our existence 
 is mirrored in the piscatorial art bait and no fish, or fish 
 and no bait. Yes, the common lot of man is disappoint 
 ment. He sows wisely that which he may never reap, 
 and reaps wisely that which he never sowed. This may 
 l>;: your lot, Mrs. Boozer it may be mine. But whatever 
 the future has in store for us, let us bear it with stout 
 hearts, even as Ajax of old defied the lightning. Alas, 
 a 'as ! that the sweetest bee should have a sting the fairest 
 flower a worm !" 
 
 "Them is sweet words," she sighed, looking at him 
 with an admiring smile. "I just love to hear you talk. 
 Them words goes right to my heart. I think a great 
 deal of what you say, Mr. Craft. I know what a good 
 man you are." 
 
 Her voice quivered and her eyes fell away from his 
 with a bashful glance. 
 
 " Humph ! whew !" exclaimed the lawyer, abruptly 
 rising from the table and snatching his hat from the 
 pcu 1 . " I forgot. There is a client waiting for me at the 
 office." 
 
 " Can't you stay and have some pie?" she asked, rising 
 and standing in front of him in her most beseeching atti 
 tude. "It is the lemon-pie you like. I made it myself 
 for you " 
 
 " Xo, no!" he interrupted, growing paler every instant, 
 as he tried to push by her and release the detaining hand 
 she had put upon his arm. " I can't wait for any pie. 
 I I must hurry. Some other time " 
 
 He made a desperate plunge for the door. 
 
 "Don't pull yourself away like that. It hurts my 
 feelings seems as if you was angry with me," she 
 pleaded, still holding his arm as he sprang across the 
 floor. li Can't you bid me good-bye with them soft words 
 you used to use?" 
 
 He stopped. His head was giddy, his knees shook and 
 his heart seemed standing still. Was he between the 
 strong horns of that terrible thing, a mental dilemma? 
 Would she never let him 2:0? or would she then and
 
 SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 253 
 
 there force him to an acceptance of her love and call 
 in her sisters to witness the compact? 
 
 "Well, I won't keep you any longer now," he heard 
 her saying, her face looking tip so close to his frightened 
 eyes. "At supper we will talk this matter all over. I 
 know what you mean, and I'll help you say it. Here's a 
 bunch of red roses," she went on, fumbling at his coat. 
 " I raised them for you on that bush in the window 
 yonder. But they ain't a bit handsomer nor sweeter 
 than you yourself, and I ain't ashamed to tell you so." 
 
 A moment later the lawyer found himself in the open 
 air and going on a dead run to his office. Into this he 
 rushed as- if closely pursued. Locking the door, he sank 
 breathless into his chair. As his head fell limply upon 
 his breast he saw, with a shudder, three red roses pinned 
 in a bunch upon the lappel of his coat. 
 
 " Ah !" he sighed, " how powerless is man against female 
 machinations ! It's not an easy matter to tell a woman 
 you do not love her, neither can you subdue her affections 
 by the might of your indifference." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 
 
 girl for an instant kneeled trembling and affright- 
 _L ed at her father's feet, though her eyes never once 
 left the letter, the superscription of which he was now 
 examining with a deepening frown. Then, as he made 
 a motion with his hands as if to tear it in pieces, she 
 uttered a cry of dismay, and springing up caught his 
 arm. 
 
 " Do not tear it ! Please let me have it, father dear !" 
 she pleaded, eagerly putting out her hand and trying to 
 grasp the letter, which he held out of her reach with a 
 little mocking laugh. 
 
 " I have a mind to tear it into shreds before either of 
 us can read it," he muttered, shaking his head threaten 
 ingly at the letter and then reproachfully at her. " But 
 
 22
 
 254 AS IT MAY IIAPPKX. 
 
 no; I will not," putting her clinging arms gentlv away 
 from lu's neck. "We will both read it, and you .-hail 
 read it first. See! I can trust you, even if you cannot 
 trust me." 
 
 He thrust the letter into her hand and went back into 
 the house, closing the door, and leaving her alone with 
 her treasure in her hands, that trembled so she could 
 hardly hold the missive steadily enough to read again her 
 name, that Yolney had written. At last, slowly sinking 
 upon the step, where Ca?sar nestled beside her, she laid 
 the letter, still unopened, in her lap, and gazed fondly 
 down upon it. These were delicious moments of hesita 
 tion. It was his rirst letter to her. In it were words his 
 loving hand alone had traced. There were so many things 
 she hoped he might have written there was so much he 
 might tell her of his still true love that she dare not yet 
 break the seal for fear that that for which her heart was 
 hoping was not within those precious folds. 
 
 Still delaying to open it, she pressed the little package 
 to her heart and covered it with many tender kisses, feel 
 ing all the more, as his cherished image floated distinct 
 in the mist of her eyes, that in this secret messenger his 
 heart had indeed come back to her. When at last she 
 had opened the letter and read it with a heart that throbbed 
 and fluttered at every word, she could have cried for very 
 joy. She did, too, the tears falling faster than she could 
 brush them away from eyes that read again and again his 
 loving words, which grew richer and deeper in meaning 
 as she repeated them in gentle whispers. How full to 
 overflowing was her soul ! Its happiness was like some 
 great burden, which she felt herself too weak alone to 
 bear. She must run and tell her father. He must share 
 her joy with her, and make it more tranquil by his shar 
 ing. He would be so glad to know that what he had 
 prophesied had all come true. For had he not told her 
 that her lover would yet come back to her? In her ecsta 
 sy of happiness she caught Caesar's head in her arms and 
 told him far more of her secret than he could understand, 
 though he wagged his tail and looked so knowing. 
 
 Then she ran, with the open letter in her hand, in search 
 of her father, her lips parted with a little smile of triumph,
 
 SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 255 
 
 Avhile her eyes, flashing with delight, vied in brilliancy 
 with the flushing tide that glowed upon her cheeks. She 
 found him sitting in front of the fireplace, in his old arm 
 chair, with her stool beside it. He did not turn his head 
 as she entered nor look up at her as she bounded toward 
 him and, throwing her arms about his neck, laid the letter 
 in his lap. 
 
 " Read it, father dear," she murmured with a touch of 
 fear in her voice, for her manner had suddenly lost its joy- 
 ousness as she saw how grave and silent he was. "It 
 is just as you said. He has asked me to to forgive 
 him." 
 
 He took up the letter with seeming indifference, motion 
 ing her to sit beside him. She did so, looking into his 
 face with a mingled expression of childish trust and ap 
 prehension. Never once did his eyes turn to hers, so ques 
 tion! ngly fixed upon him, neither did he utter a word. He 
 read the letter in perfect silence and with a slow attentive- 
 ness, but no opinion as to its contents was reflected in any 
 feature of his stolid countenance. 
 
 " It has happened as I said it would," he quietly re 
 marked, slowly refolding the missive and handing it back 
 to her. "He has asked you to forgive him; and you will, 
 I suppose?" for the first time turning his keen gray eyes 
 upon her with something of an expression of pity gleam 
 ing through their cold gaze. 
 
 " Oh, I could forgive him a thousand times!" she replied 
 Avith an enthusiasm as free and artless as herself, clasping 
 the letter with a passionate gesture to her bosom. " If he 
 will only love " 
 
 Her voice died away and she was suddenly silent. 
 His quick frown had checked her utterance and driven 
 back from her lips the eager words she would have 
 spoken. 
 
 "What is love?" he said with a low, cynical laugh, 
 speaking more to himself than to her. "It is ice with 
 the sun on it, honey mingled with gall, a pleasure that 
 comes and goes with pain. What is woman's love? It 
 is a breath that changes quicker than the wind. And 
 man's? He breaks his vows with the parting kiss still 
 warm upon his lips. And so you think he loves you?''
 
 256 AS IT MAY HAPPKX. 
 
 looking half sorrowfully clown upon her upturned face, 
 that lay upon his knee. 
 
 "Something tells me that he docs," she faltered, droop 
 ing her eyes away from him and blushing deeply at the 
 words that had escaped her lips. 
 
 "The old story!" he said, slowly rising from his chair 
 and resting his hand with a gentle pressure upon her head. 
 "When love comes in at the door, judgment flies out of 
 the window. I shall not chide you further, child. It's 
 not your fault that your innocent heart believes in him. 
 But do not trust him more than you do me. Words are 
 the cheapest gifts the heart can olfer. True love, such as 
 my child deserves, was not born in a day. It is the growth 
 of years. So let us wait and see. Nothing is ever lost by 
 patient waiting, especially in these matters of the heart." 
 
 He kissed her and pressed her to his breast. Without 
 a word beyond the utterance of a heavv sigh, that nearly 
 shaped itself in articulate regret, he shuffled across the 
 room. He took up his gun, unlocked the cellar-door, and 
 disappeared through the dark entrance, a lighted candle in 
 his hand, bolting the door after him. The girl, with a 
 tinge of sadness in her smile, put the letter into her 
 bosom with a soft kiss, and with her face clasped in her 
 hands sat gazing into the fire, flickering now as unsteadily 
 as her hopes, which but a moment since were bright as 
 any flame that had ever darted up this chimney-place. 
 She had come to her father to share her happiness, and he 
 had thrown a shadow over it all. This letter, which to 
 her was the written voice of pure and earnest love, her 
 father had read without a word of praise for him who had 
 penned it. Xor was this all. She saw with deeper pain 
 that he did not believe in her lover. He thought him 
 fickle and false, and his affection for her something that 
 would slowly fade away in his heart, while it grew bright 
 er and stronger in her own. Could this be so ? She 
 asked the question with a hesitancy of fear that made her 
 cheeks grow pale and her lips tremble as they gave whisper 
 ed voice to the words. Only for an instant was there doubt. 
 Hope, that ever faithful ally of Love, came to the rescue 
 of her wavering thoughts, and made them strong again in 
 faith. He forget her cease to love her ? Xo, no ! Sh<"
 
 SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 257 
 
 . 
 
 could not, would not, believe it. He, so good and noble 
 and true, prove false ? His love like that of other men ? 
 
 The calm, confident smile that illumined her face gave 
 answer. The faithful love filling her soul poured forth its 
 protest in the resolute pressure of her lips and the steady 
 look of her eyes, as if, though all the world should doubt 
 him, she would never, never think him false. 
 
 Meanwhile, Nicholas Grundle busied himself in the 
 cellar, working with quiet, stealthy movements. He had 
 pulled the box away from the wall and removed the stone. 
 From the cavity behind it he had taken several small 
 thick bags securely tied, which he placed in a little pile 
 upon the floor. He seated himself upon a small box, the 
 candle on one side, his gun on the other, and began to 
 open each bag and examine its contents. In most of these 
 pouches was gold, in a few silver, and in a single one were 
 notes. It took him a long time to count over his treas 
 ure, fingering every piece as he did, and holding on to it 
 with a hesitating motion as he put it out of his sight into 
 the receptacle where it belonged. Two hours thus passed 
 away, yet so pleasant was his occupation that not once did 
 his busy fingers stop, nor the smile on his face relax its 
 intensity of greed and cunning. It was only when he 
 had refilled the pouches, tied them again and put them all 
 into a larger bag that he rested for a moment, holding the 
 sack between his knees and patting it with a gesture of 
 endearment. Rising at last he put this sack into the cav 
 ity of the wall, placed the stone in position, pushed the 
 box into its place, and laid the straws upon its edges. 
 This done, he listened intently for a moment, then as 
 cended the stairs, and locking the cellar-door put the key 
 into his pocket. 
 
 Seating himself at the table for dinner, which had been 
 ready for him a long while, he ate his meal in unusual 
 silence, saying little beyond muttering at the rain, which 
 was beating steadily against the windows, with the prom 
 ise of a long storm in the heavy, leaden sky. Emily en 
 deavored to rouse his spirits, for she readily imagined that 
 she was the cause of his depression. Try as she would 
 and it was so easy now for her to be happy, with her heart 
 so full of hope and love he only returned the shortest 
 22 * n
 
 258 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 * 
 
 answers to her, and finally left the table. Seating him 
 self by the window which commanded a view of the village 
 road, he told her not to disturb him. Leaning forward 
 close to the dripping pane, he gazed steadily down the 
 distant, road, which was now and then lost to his vision in 
 the mist of the storm. Two hours thus passed, then three 
 and four; still the one he was looking for did not come. 
 Yet all this while he did not once leave his seat by the 
 window or speak to the girl, who sat knitting by the fire 
 place, her happy face reflecting the sweet and tender mus 
 ings of her heart. When at length the little clock had 
 struck five, and the road had grown less and less defined 
 in the waning daylight, Nicholas Grundle rose reluctant 
 ly from his seat. He began to close the shutters, bowing 
 his head to the storm with muttered imprecations that 
 made Emily tremble as she ran to his aid. 
 
 " Were you expecting, that man, father?" she asked 
 when the last shutter had been secured and he stood 
 shaking the rain from the sleeves of his coat into the fire. 
 " I am sorry you are disappointed," pushing back the wet 
 locks from his forehead. "But it may clear off by night. 
 Perhaps he will come then." 
 
 " You need not set the table," he said as she turned 
 away from him, standing there in long silence, his hands 
 folded in front of him and his eyes moodily fixed on the 
 fire. " I want no supper. You can eat a bowl of bread 
 and milk in the pantry yonder. Make haste; for if he 
 should come, you must be ready to go to your room. 
 Your face is not for him to look at. 'Twere best hid 
 den in your pillow if he be here." 
 
 Shaking his head with little vehement nods, he fixed 
 himself in the old arm-chair where his eyes, should he 
 raise them, would fall upon the valise, the cellar and the 
 outer door. It was no casual gaze he bent, in slow succes 
 sion, upon each of these objects. There was a varying ex- 
 preasion in his countenance, yet it lost none of its intensity 
 of cunning or hope or fear or disappointment as he looked 
 from one to the other, turning uneasily in his seat at times, 
 and listening alertly for some other sound than that of 
 the tumult of the storm. Never once did he speak to the 
 girl, who long since had crept to his side with her stool,
 
 SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 259 
 
 and sat quietly working with the flying needles that kept 
 rhythm with the swift current of her happy thoughts. Her 
 tranquil face was in strong contrast to the one above it, 
 that alternated between impatient frowns and the deeper 
 shadows of disappointment. Her lips seemed to shape 
 themselves in words of tenderness. His never moved, 
 save now and then to give forth a slowly-muttered ex 
 clamation of disgust as the storm beat with greater force 
 against the cottage, making it tremble and shake as if the 
 wind were seeking its weakest place to hurl it down. The 
 time passed in silence between these two. It went fast to 
 her, so full of endless visions of joy in the future. Slow 
 ly to him "the moments drew themselves along, when he 
 had so much to gain, so much to lose. 
 
 Tlie clock struck eight. The sound of its little bell was 
 scarcely audible above the roar of the wind and the beating 
 torrent of rain, more furious now, for the tempest had this 
 night summoned to its aid all the powers of the air and 
 sky, making the earth tremble and cower beneath its 
 mighty tread. Suddenly there came a furious blast that 
 made the cottage rock as if in the throes of an earth 
 quake. Another instant, and something fell with a crash 
 upon the roof. With a cry of terror the girl dropped 
 her knitting and clung to her father, her white lips 
 speechless with fear, but he sat unmoved and calm. 
 
 "It is only the chimney," he said with a grim smile as 
 the bricks came rattling down upon the ground under the 
 nearest window. " Let the wind blow it over. It makes 
 no difference to me. Somebody besides myself will have 
 to put that chimney up again. But it is a good omen for 
 us, my child"/' giving her a reassuring pat upon the head. 
 "Why? do you ask. I'll tell you to-morrow that is, 
 if- 
 
 He did not finish the sentence, for in the lull that had 
 come in the storm Cassar had heard something without that 
 made him spring from his watch beside the valise to the 
 door, where he stood growling with his nose snuffing along 
 the sill. 
 
 " Yes, he is coming," whispered Nicholas Grundle, rising 
 nervously in his chair and bending forward in a listening 
 attitude. "I thought the storm would not keep him away.
 
 260 AS IT MAY HAPPEN 
 
 Hist! Those are his footsteps. Hurry to your room. To 
 morrow you shall know all ; but, mind me, do not listen 
 to-night." She hesitated to go, catching her father's arm 
 as if she could not leave him. The old look of appre 
 hension had come back to her face, more vivid now as the 
 short, heavy raps sounded upon the door and the man's 
 voice called loudly for admittance. 
 
 " Go to your room, I say, and shut the door," he mut 
 tered, quickly pushing the girl from him. " Would you 
 spoil all, you silly child?" 
 
 She hurried away from him, looking so angrily at her, 
 and fled up the stairs to her own room. Here, closing the 
 door, she stood trembling in the darkness, a fear upon her 
 she could not dispel. Her father might trust this man, 
 but ever since she had caught that first glimpse of his 
 wicked face it had haunted her with a suggestion of evil. 
 What had brought him here to-night in such a storm ? 
 Why did he always come in the night? What had he to 
 conceal from the light of day? If she did but dare to 
 listen and hear his errand, she could then tell whether he 
 was deceiving her father, who had put such sudden trust 
 in him. But no ; she had promised her father not to 
 listen. She would wait until to-morrow, when he would 
 tell her all and explain the mystery of this man's com 
 ing. Meanwhile, the miser had called away the dog and 
 opened the door, admitting the man, who entered drench 
 ed with rain, holding a torn and broken umbrella in his 
 hands. 
 
 " A very wet night, friend Grundle. Something on the 
 order of a second deluge," he said, tossing the umbrella 
 on the floor by the valise and throwing aside his dripping 
 coat and hat. 
 
 "Where is the notary ?" asked the other, peering out 
 into the darkness, and then turning to his companion with 
 a look of disappointment. 
 
 " Bless your antiquated soul ! you don't expect a notary 
 to come out to-night for a dollar, do you ? Why, I wouldn't 
 have been here myself, except my wav home lav in this di 
 rection. I thought it no more than fair, as a matter of 
 business, to stop and tell you that the notary could not 
 come until to-morrow."
 
 SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 261 
 
 " Why not ? Isn't my money as good as anybody's ?" 
 snarled Grundle, slamming the door and barring it. 
 
 " All his time was engaged for to-day. I'll warrant he 
 has been giving some poor client the benefit of the law's 
 delay. But come, friend Grundle, don't look so disap 
 pointed. No matter if you do wait until to-morrow for 
 the signing of the deed, you have got the best of a sure 
 bargain." 
 
 "In what way, I would like to know r ?" muttered the 
 old man, following his companion, who had crossed the 
 room and now stood with his back to the fire, his hands 
 behind him and his smiling face bent with a free-and-easy 
 inclination upon the other. 
 
 "That I can readily answer. But if you will keep 
 this dog at a respectful distance from my anatomy, I shall 
 be much obliged to you, and be able to talk with much 
 more freedom," said the man, suddenly retreating before 
 the mastiff, who was walking about in front of him show 
 ing his teeth and emitting a series of low growls, with a 
 threatening look in his steady eyes. 
 
 Nicholas Grundle seized the dog by his stout brass col 
 lar and dragged him to the farther corner of the room, 
 fastening him by the collar to an iron chain which was 
 secured to the floor by a staple. 
 
 " Much obliged ! I feel more comfortable now," re 
 sumed the stranger as Cassar silently stretched himself 
 upon the floor in obedience to his master, and lay with 
 his head between his paws. U I never did fancy strange 
 dogs, and this one of yours seems determined not to be 
 friendly with me." 
 
 " You are safe enough from him now," interrupted 
 Grundle ; " so go on and tell me how I have got the best 
 of this bargain, and how it is sure, when it cannot be com 
 pleted before to-morrow." 
 
 "Do you see that valise?" replied the man, seating 
 himself by the fireplace and mysteriously nodding in the 
 direction of the valise ; then, as Grundle's eyes turned to 
 the object, he added, " That makes your bargain sure." 
 
 " In what way ?" slowly asked the miser. " It is neither 
 yourself nor the notary." 
 
 " Is any one listening ?" whispered the man, glancing
 
 262 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 nervously around the room. " Your daughter where is 
 she ? Gin she hear or see us ?" 
 
 " She is abed, and was asleep long ago." 
 
 " I wish I were sure of that." 
 
 " Why ? What matters it to you ?" 
 
 " Because," replied he with a cautious look, " if I 
 thought we were safe from interruption by her, I would 
 show you what I carry in that valise. The sight of its 
 contents would satisfy you that I mean business to-mor 
 row, I know." 
 
 "Go on and open it, then. I give you my word she 
 shall neither hear nor see you. I have her promise for 
 that;" and the old man's voice and manner grew suddenly 
 confidential. 
 
 " I wish I were only as certain of our secrecy as you 
 are," continued the stranger after a pause, during which 
 he had been listening intently, turning his head in all di 
 rections, and finally fixing his gaze upon the little stair 
 way. "Would you object," he went on in a low voice, 
 " to turning the key in her door ? These girls are often 
 smart beyond their years. Deception is as natural to them 
 as grace and shyness. I have found in my life that locks 
 and bolts are the only safeguards and they not always 
 against a woman's curiosity." 
 
 Nicholas Grundlc made no reply. He stood irresolute 
 a moment. Then he crept softly up the stairs. 
 
 He soon returned, bearing in his hand an old iron key. 
 This he held in front of the man with a cunning smile, 
 and whispered, 
 
 " Let her be asleep or awake, she cannot open the door 
 this key has locked." Then, putting it in his pocket, he 
 added, with an impatient shrug of his shoulders at the 
 complacent air with which the other was regarding him, 
 " Come, you have no further excuse now, if you intend to 
 open the valise." 
 
 " Sh ! sh ! friend Grundle ! Not so loud. I have known 
 floors to have ears," said the man, stealthily rising from 
 his chair and taking from his pocket a bunch of keys. " I 
 hope I shall have better luck to-night with the locks. 
 Would you mind holding the candle for me ?" 
 
 They went softly over to the valise, both evidently un-
 
 SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 263 
 
 der great excitement. The keys rattled in the man's hand 
 and his face was rapidly growing pale. The candle trem 
 bled so in Grundle's grasp that he clutched it in his two 
 hands, and held it so close to him that his excited breath 
 ing almost extinguished it. 
 
 " Steady, friend Grundle! Don't be so excited/' said 
 his companion, who had* thrown aside the carpet and was 
 already kneeling in front of the valise. "Here! Bring 
 the candle lower ; I might as well be in the dark, with 
 you standing up there holding the light above your 
 head. Kneel down here beside me, or else give me the 
 candle to manage;" and he put out his hand as if to 
 take it. - 
 
 Nicholas Grundle was too eager to catch the first 
 glimpse of what w r as in the valise to need any second 
 command to come nearer. In another instant he had 
 kneeled beside the stranger, and was holding the candle 
 down close to the padlock, which, as before, was offering 
 some impediment to the stranger's key. 
 
 " Your hand trembles so that the light is too unsteady 
 for me to see clearly," said the man. " Here ! I can do 
 better with it by myself." 
 
 He took the candle from the other's hand, and turning 
 his back to him apparently fumbled away in silence 
 upon the lock. Nicholas Grundle was impatient at this 
 delay. He crept closer, and leaned over the other's 
 shoulder to see what he was doing. Certainly the stran 
 ger was not trying now to open the valise, for his hands 
 were evidently busy with something hidden beneath his 
 coat. What strange though agreeable odor was this that 
 made the miser recoil? Why did he look with terror- 
 stricken eyes first at his gun and then at the dog, both so 
 far out of his reach? What ailed him now that, para 
 lyzed with fear, he could neither move hand nor foot, 
 only give one feeble cry of 
 
 "Help, Emily! help!" 
 
 The other, quick as a flash, had put the candle on the 
 floor. Then he turned as suddenly upon the miser, and 
 with a low, devilish laugh caught him around the neck. 
 Stifling into a deathly gurgle his victim's cry for help, he 
 covered his nose and mouth with a thick white cloth and
 
 264 AS IT J/.1 1" HAPPEN. 
 
 pressed him, resisting less and less, slowly back upon the 
 floor. 
 
 The girl in the room above had heard this cry for help. 
 Single and hoarse and faint though it was, it had fallen 
 upon her ears with a power as startling as if it had been 
 uttered beside the bed, whereon she had but a moment 
 before laid herself, cowering with^, fear of evil that made 
 every sense alert with alarm. 
 
 She leaped to her feet and sprang to the door, her 
 movements as swift as the suspicion of villainy that 
 flashed through her mind. Her father crying for help ! 
 Was the man murdering him? Awful suggestion one to 
 make the stoutest heart quail ! But it made her frame vibrate 
 with strength and thrilled her with a courage so resolute 
 that all fear for herself was lost in her determination to 
 go to her father's rescue, though she should go to her own 
 death besides. With desperate energy she seized the 
 latch and pulled against the door, for the fierce barking 
 of the dog and the muttering angry voice of the man 
 warned her that a deadly struggle was going on, in which 
 a moment more her aid might be too late. The door 
 would not open; it was locked. With a cry of dismay, 
 which might well have served for the echo of the one the 
 old man had so recently made, she remembered that her 
 father had locked this door a little while ago, whispering 
 to her that he would soon come back and open it again. 
 Locked in here, and all access to her dying father cut off 
 by his own act ! In an agony of despair she beat upon 
 the door and pressed against it with all her power, which 
 she felt certain would soon bear it from its hinges. But 
 the door stood firm mockingly, remorselessly firm. 
 
 What should she do? She wrung her hands an in 
 stant, then suddenly clasped them with a hysterical laugh. 
 Running to the window, she threw it open. Here was a 
 way for her. From this sill she could lower herself to 
 the ground by the stout grape-vine that crept along the 
 side of the house, and enter the cottage through some 
 window below. Quickly springing upon the window- 
 ledge, she grasped the vine in her hands and swung her 
 self out into the darkness and the storm. For a second 
 she hung motionless, the rain beating down upon her up-
 
 SOMETHING UNFORESEEN OCCURS. 265 
 
 turned face, over which the wind blew her thick hair, 
 shutting out the sight of the light in her room. Then, as 
 her feet caught a hold in the meshes of the vine, which 
 stoutly bore her up, she began her descent. Quickly she 
 lowered herself now, for there was a sudden silence with 
 in the cottage that made her quake with the apprehension 
 that she was already too late to aid her father in his strug 
 gle for life. As she touched the ground, almost breathless 
 with her exertion and agonized by the fear that her father 
 was dead, there came the sound of carriage-wheels close 
 at hand. She stood bewildered with the sudden hope 
 this sound had brought her. Here at last was help 
 when most she needed it. Above the roar of the wind 
 she heard the voice of the driver as he urged on his 
 horse. In the direction of this voice she ran, crying, 
 " Stop ! stop ! Help ! help !" Another instant and the 
 vehicle dashed past the cottage, rattling along the road 
 toward the village, the man within calling to his steed in 
 tones as frightened as those which bore the girl's cry for 
 help above the howling of the storm. But though the 
 carriage sped away as if followed by some demon of the 
 darkness, the girl did not cease her cries nor abate the 
 swift-flying pace with which she pursued it. Already 
 she was in the road, running after the vehicle, calling 
 louder and more piteously to it the farther it left her be 
 hind. She stopped an instant for breath, and clasped her 
 giddy head to keep herself from falling. She glanced 
 back at the cottage. She saw the door open, and in it 
 stood that dreaded man, his form outlined in the light of 
 the room behind him. The sight of him sent a thrill of 
 terror through her and quickly brought back her strength 
 and resolution. Her father in the power of such a wicked, 
 cruel man and she standing here ! She ran on again after 
 the carriage. It should not escape her. The man within 
 it should yet hear her cries and turn to her relief. Away 
 she flew, faster even than before, calling so loudly that the 
 wind, roar as it might, could not drown her voice. But 
 as she ran, and was now gaining upon the carriage, her 
 feet dashed against some object in the road. She fell 
 headlong, and in another instant lay senseless upon the 
 earth. 
 
 23
 
 266 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 CONFIDENCES AND COURTSHIPS. 
 
 ""V7~OU are very kind to speak so hopefully," said the 
 X elder woman with a voice as sad as the dejected air 
 with which she sat looking into the bright, crackling fire 
 that burned this evening in the old farm-house. " But 
 what reason for hope is there with so much arrayed against 
 us? What can we two weak women do to successfully 
 oppose the schemes of these cunning and wicked men? 
 All is on their side money, experience and the world's 
 opinion. You seem to forget, A/iel, that we are only 
 women ; and as if that were not disadvantage enough in 
 this contest, we are both friendless and penniless." 
 
 " We have our courage and our wits still left. These 
 should make us strong and hopeful," replied the other 
 with a firm voice, not looking up from beside the chim 
 ney-jamb, where, as usual, she was sitting in the shadow, 
 her face bent over the swiftly-plying needles. " True, we 
 are only women, as you say, our very weakness giving 
 men their power to deal with us ; true it is they can rob 
 us of love, virtue, happiness, friends and all our hearts 
 hold dear and sacred ; but, thank Heaven ! no man, how 
 ever strong or wicked he may be, can take away from 
 woman her fortitude to endure calamity, or crush out of 
 her heart the hope that lingers there despite its deepest 
 sorrows and unutterable woe. But it has not come to this 
 pass with us. We have ample time to put our courage 
 and tact to the test in this allair, which, I promise you, if 
 we are but bold and clever, shall not go so hard with us 
 as you fear. As I told you to-day, we have already that 
 young Dibbs and Patrick on our side, and I will see to it 
 that the lawyer too joins our forces." 
 
 "You are a very courageous little woman," said the 
 other, after a pause, in which she had been regarding her 
 companion with a smile of admiration. "I never thought 
 you had so stout a heart. You have always seemed to me, 
 in all these years we have been together, so timid and fear 
 ful, going around as if you were almost afraid of your own
 
 CONFIDENCES AND COURTSHIPS. 267 
 
 shadow. I cannot understand what has made such a sud 
 den change in you. Somehow, since he came back, we have 
 changed characters, as it were. I have become weak, and 
 you strong ; I despairing, and you hopeful." 
 
 " Perhaps it is because I have less at stake than you 
 have. You know it is easy for one to hope who has not 
 much to fear. I know you will believe me when I tell 
 you that I feel any harm that threatens you or Volney as 
 much as if it threatened myself." 
 
 " It's always Volney when you speak of me;" and there 
 was a trifle of bitterness in the woman's tone. "You link 
 his fortune closely with mine, as if you thought my chief 
 duty in life were to him that I must do everything with 
 a view to his happiness. For his sake you persuaded me 
 to endure in silence the many tormenting years of my first 
 married life; for his sake you urged me to marry this man, 
 who has heaped upon me every indignity these past five 
 wretched years; and for his sake I dare say you would 
 now, were you to speak out your honest thoughts, urge me 
 to sacrifice myself in any way for the balance of my days." 
 
 "You have always done your fullest duty by him," said 
 the other, softly. " No mother ever did more for a child. 
 I am sure the day will come when he will repay it. Not 
 all, for that he can never do, strive as he may. A mother's 
 love is a debt that can never be cancelled this side of 
 heaven;" and the tremulous voice died away in the silence. 
 
 "He owes far more to you than he does to me," was the 
 slow and emphatic rejoinder. " You have been more of a 
 mother to him than I have been. Your breast fed him when 
 he was a babe. By day and by night you were never away 
 from him. His first crow was to you his first laugh in your 
 arms. In every sickness you were his constant nurse in 
 every hour of health his playmate and companion. You 
 have lived only for him since the very night he was born. 
 How strange it is that I, his own mother, could not love 
 him as you have done ! Perhaps," she added with a little 
 shudder and in a lower voice, "it is because I ceased to 
 love his father ere he was born. 1 have heard of mothers 
 who never loved their offspring when thus born, nor their 
 offspring them. Maybe such a mother I am." 
 
 At this moment the outer door of the kitchen was
 
 268 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 opened and closed again. As the women listened a pair 
 of heavy boots was heard beating time to the following 
 verse, rendered with a rollicking air by a light-hearted 
 though subdued voice : 
 
 "Ocli, Mary O'Hura, you use me vilely, 
 
 And like a child me do coax and decoy. 
 It's meself that's thinkin', while you do be winkin' 
 So soft upon me, you will my heart desthroy." 
 
 Hardly had the last word been uttered, when the singer 
 rapped gently on the door, and opened it slowly in re 
 sponse to the answering voice. It was Pat Doyle who 
 sidled into the room with an awkward bow. He stood in 
 the presence of the women twirling his hat in his hand, 
 and his eyes rose and fell upon the floor with an abashed 
 expression. But there was a sly look of merriment in 
 them as they were slowly raised, and he glanced from one 
 woman to the other as he said, 
 
 " SI in re, it's knowin' the answer I'll get afore I axes the 
 question, seein' the kind heart o' ye look in' out o' them 
 eyes, Misthress Gagger. God save ye kindly, ma'am !" 
 
 " What is it you wish, Patrick ?" she asked, greeting 
 him with a half-serious look and a little authoritative 
 wave of her hand. 
 
 "I'd be afther goin' out to spind the evenin', if it's not 
 agin yer likin', ma'am ;" and although he had tried to an 
 swer her with seeming indifference, his face flushed and 
 his eyes became suddenly busy in watching the nervous 
 movements of his feet. 
 
 " I have no objection to your going, except my regard 
 for your health. It's a very bad night for any one, even 
 as hardy as you are, to be exposed. Certainly you do" not 
 know how heavily it is raining; you will be drenched 
 through and through. See ! you are very wet now, com 
 ing onlv this little distance from the barn." 
 
 "Shure, it's more harrum can befall a man than the 
 thrifle o' a duckin', Misthress Gagger, an it's not meself as 
 wud be -afeard o' a deluge this night. It's runnin' be 
 tween the dhrops I'd be all the way ;'' and he said this 
 with a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips. 
 
 "Very well; go, if you choose. But you must be
 
 CONFIDENCES AND COURTSHIPS. 269 
 
 greatly in love," she added with a quizzical look and a 
 little banter in her voice, "to go two miles through 
 such a pouring rain as this to see your charmer. I 
 hope the young lady will appreciate your extraordinary 
 devotion." 
 
 " It's no more for her than for meself I'm goin'," he re 
 joined with a sly laugh. " Faix, it's up to the ears I am 
 wid love o' her, an' it's proud I am to tell it," with an 
 emphatic shake of his head. 
 
 ''Are you very sure you love her ? Do you feel happy, 
 \vithout a single doubt, when you are with her ?" 
 
 " Oh, Misthress Gagger, ye make me blush, so ye do, 
 till ivery dhrop o' blood in me body is scaklin' me cheeks ! 
 It's not ashamed I am to tell ye how I love the pretty 
 colleen. Faix, when I'm sittin' all alone wid her, I feel 
 as if I wor covered all over wid rainbows an' aolian harps 
 wor playin' all round me. Ah ! shure, it's an angel she 
 is, ban-in' the wings !" 
 
 " You must be very happy with such feelings," went on 
 Mrs. Gagger when the merriment his speech had excited 
 in her and Aziel had subsided. "Love does not always 
 bring pleasure to its possessor. It makes some people 
 very miserable." 
 
 " Does it, indade?" opening his eyes wide with an in 
 credulous look. Then, emboldened by the interest his lis 
 teners were manifesting, the merry twinkle came back, and 
 he continued : " Shure, then, it can't be rale love that 
 worries them. Is it love that's miserable, do ye tell me ? 
 Faix, it's a great sweetness for me to be dyin o' sich mis 
 ery as love. It sets me heart to achin' so wid joy it's not 
 a wink o' sleep I git at night for the pleasure o' the pain." 
 
 " I wonder if she loves you as much ? I hope so, 
 though the song I heard a few moments ago did not show 
 that you were very confident of her affection," 
 
 " Now, Misthress Gagger, wor ye listenin' to that bit 
 o' fun I wor pokin' at meself? Indade, it wor only a 
 thrifle o' humor, so it wor. Throth, if I wor as shure o' 
 heaven as I am of her heart, it's not throublin' me sowl 
 I'd be about a sweet harp an' goolden crown in the world 
 beyant," reverently crossing himself as he cast his eyes 
 upward. 
 
 23*
 
 270 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " Has she ever told you she loved you ? If not, you 
 had better take care," shaking her finger at him with a 
 warning in her look. " Sometimes love is all on one side, 
 and the party loving docs not find out his mistake until it 
 is too late." 
 
 This remark at first had a depressing effect upon Doyle. 
 His eyes became serious and his smiles gave way to doubts 
 as he ran his hand slowly through his hair. But only for 
 an instant was his expression thus confused and uncertain. 
 His face cleared away as quickly as it had clouded, and 
 he said with a confident laugh, 
 
 " Indadc, it's only try in' me faith in the colleen ye are, 
 Misthress Gagger. Be me sow!, it's me book-oath I could 
 take that she loves rne ! Av coorse it's not all her heart 
 she'd be showin' me at wanse. It's playin' a while wid 
 me tindherness she'd be aftlier doin' wid the little scrap 
 of decipshun in her nathur. Take my word for it, it's 
 not whistlin' to a milestone I've bin doin', at all, at all, 
 these last tin months, Misthress Gagger." 
 
 The comical wink with which Doyle delivered this re 
 mark made his companions break out into a hearty laugh, 
 in which he joined with quiet satisfaction. 
 
 " I see you are hopelessly in love, so hurry away and 
 join your idol as soon as you can," said his mistress with 
 a dismissing wave of her hand. " Take my advice, Pat 
 rick, and make sure that she loves you before you give 
 her more of your heart." 
 
 " Shure, it's ivery small dhrop o' me own heart she has 
 now, the little desaiver! It's her blessed heart, mavour- 
 neen, I'm aftlier vvantin' wid all me powers." 
 
 He quickly bowed himself out with scraping feet, and 
 left the room. A moment later they heard him going 
 down the lane singing this song, a line of which they 
 caught now and then in the lull of the storm : 
 
 " Then Rory, the rogue, stole his arm round her neck, 
 So soft and so white, without freckle or speck ; 
 And he looked in her eyes, that were beaming with light, 
 And he kissed her sweet lips. Don't you think he was right? 
 'Now, liory, leave off, sir! You'll hug me no more. 
 That's eight times to-day you have kissed me before.' 
 'Then here goes another,' says he, 'to make sure, 
 For there's luck in odd numbers, says liory O'More.' "
 
 WHAT MAY HAPPEN TO A LOVER. 271 
 
 " He's a good, honest soul," said Mrs. Gagger when 
 Doyle's voice was no longer heard, " I could not bear to 
 refuse to let him go, but I wish now that I had not con 
 sented. Somehow, I do dread our being left alone, even 
 on such a night as this." 
 
 " I am sure we need fear no visitors to-night. This 
 storm, I guess, will be our safe protection from visits of 
 good or evil," replied Aziel in a reassuring tone. "Yet 
 if the one you dread should come, he shall not make a 
 coward of either of us. AVe can bravely dare any one 
 and anything to-night ;" and her face was not less reso 
 lute than her words. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 WHAT 31 AY HAPPEN TO A LOVER. 
 
 "PATRICK DOYLE had been gone but a short time 
 _L when the sound of carriage-wheels coming rapidly up 
 the lane startled the women. 
 
 " Who can it be ?" exclaimed Mrs. Gagger in a half- 
 suppressed whisper that told as plainly as the agitation 
 of her countenance the fear that had suddenly come 
 upon her. 
 
 Aziel made no reply beyond a negative shake of the 
 head. Her knitting fell into her la]), and she leaned for- 
 Avard, intently listening, a white rift crossing the firm 
 lines of her face. The vehicle drew nearer, halted an 
 instant at the door, then went on at a slow pace in the 
 direction of the barn. There it stopped, and a man's 
 voice called out with a pleasant gruffness, 
 
 " Hello, Pat ! Here ! I want you !" 
 
 Xo response coming to this summons, they heard the 
 barn-door opened and the vehicle driven under shelter. 
 
 "It's only the lawyer, Mr. Craft/' said Aziel with a 
 smile of relief in reply to the questioning and frightened 
 gaze of her companion. "Certainly," with a meaning in 
 flection in her voice, "you, at least, have no cause for 
 alarm in seein; him."
 
 272 AS IT JAir HAPPEN. 
 
 "What can bring- him here in such a storm? Xo good 
 to us, 1 am sure." Then, her countenance quickly chang 
 ing with the thought, " Ah ! I remember now the letter 
 he wrote to you. But, Aziel, I would not trust that 
 man. Be careful how you trifle with him. You may 
 not be able to deceive him so easily as you suppose." 
 
 " I think I understand him," said A/id, a little gleam 
 of merriment in her eyes. " He comes here to-night as 
 our friend, and I shall see to it that he goes away the 
 same. You must promise not to leave me alone with 
 him a moment. You will do that much to help along my 
 scheme? You will further aid my plan by treating him 
 with apparent kindness while he is here, and by keeping 
 him engaged in conversation with you as much as you 
 possibly ean.' M 
 
 Hardly had an affirmative answer been given to these 
 requests when a rap came upon the door. With a cau 
 tious shake of her finger at her mistress, and suppressing 
 her own mischievous smile, Aziel opened the door. 
 
 " Good-evening, Miss Loyd ! I have the extreme 
 honor of personally presenting myself to you Rader 
 Craft, attorney and eounselor-at-la\v," was the lawyer's 
 salutation as he removed his hat and gave her a full view 
 of his expansive smile, which, rippling on his broad 
 features, finally lost itself in the shining waste of his 
 upper forehead. 
 
 "I am pleased to make your acquaintance," rejoined 
 A/iel with a modest inclination of her head as she ex 
 tended her hand and bid him enter. 
 
 He eagerly took her palm in the great puffy cavity of 
 his own, and closed his tat fingers upon it with a pressure 
 more ardent than agreeable to her as she gently released 
 herself. 
 
 " Your cordial welcome, let me hope," he said with an 
 impressive voice and his most benignant look, " is the 
 initiatory perfection of this evening's hospitality. Ah !" 
 noticing Mrs. Gagger, who had risen to receive him, for 
 the first time. " This, I presume, is the \vife of our 
 highly-esteemed, though slightly eccentric, fellow-citizen, 
 Silas Gagger, Esq.? Mrs. Gagger," advancing and mak 
 ing her as profound a bow as the rotundity of his form
 
 WHAT MAY HAPPEN TO A LOVER. 273 
 
 would permit, " allow me to express the unalloyed felicity 
 M'ith which I present myself to so estimable a lady." 
 
 In response to Aziel's urgent look she returned this 
 compliment with a gracious smile. Assuring him that 
 the pleasure of their meeting was mutual, she invited him 
 to lay aside his overcoat and be seated in the chair which 
 Aziel-had already placed beside him. 
 
 " The cordiality of your reception, my dear madam," 
 he said as he deliberately drew off the coat and placed it 
 over the back of the chair, seating himself with a grand 
 flourish of his hands, " I hope is the earnest of our 
 mutual appreciation. For allow me to state, ab initio 
 from the beginning, as we gentlemen of the bar use the 
 phrase that the object of my appearance on this inclem 
 ent evening is not only to assure you of my distinguished 
 consideration, but to convince you if possible that, while 
 my professional services are not directly at your disposal, 
 you can, nevertheless, have the unreserved benefit of my 
 friendly counsel and sympathetic anxiety under the 
 present harassing circumstances of your environments." 
 
 Having thus delivered himself with a voice as bland 
 as his smile, and with his hands slowly revolving around 
 each other, as if he ever held them thus ready to do any 
 act of kindness, he raised his inclining head to an erect 
 position, and with a smiling -serenity awaited her reply. 
 While thus regarding her his eyes more than once fur 
 tively glanced at Aziel, who, already in her seat by the 
 chimney-jamb, was busy with her eyes upon her rapid 
 needles. 
 
 " I don't exactly catch your meaning," answered Mrs. 
 Gagger with assumed embarrassment. " Perhaps you 
 will be kind enough to explain to me more fully in 
 what way I can avail myself of your friendly aid, so 
 very kindly proffered." 
 
 " Primarily, my dear madam, allow me to propound an 
 interrogatory. Am I correct in the assumption that, with 
 your perfect acquiescence, I can communicate with you in 
 absolute freedom and confidence on an important subject 
 touching your interests in the presence of our mutual 
 friend?" inclining his head toward Aziel with an exuber 
 ant smile, over which there came a shade of disappoint- 
 
 s
 
 274 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 ment when he saw how steadily her eves were fixed upon 
 her work. "A beautiful exhibition of maidenly reserve!" 
 he mentally thought as his gaze slowly reverted to his 
 immediate listener. 
 
 "Aziel and I keep no secrets from each other. We 
 have been confidential friends during many years. I shall 
 be pleased to have her hear anything regarding any interest 
 of mine, no matter how private you may consider it." 
 
 "A most generous compliment, and well deserved, I am 
 confident," ejaculated the lawyer, again looking vainly in 
 Aziel's direction with his beaming smile, and as vainly 
 adding a slight nervous cough to attract her attention. 
 
 " Friendship, Mrs. Gagger," he resumed, " is a cadence 
 of heavenly melody ever resounding through noble hearts. 
 It is the one divine song of our fallen nature. Gratified 
 indeed am I to discover so celestial a bond of union be 
 tween you two lovely women as friendship; which, as the 
 immortal Cicero says, improves happiness and abates misery 
 by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of our grief. 
 The more encouraged am I now to believe that the object 
 of my present visitation will eventuate successfully. Two 
 heroic women, their hearts united by friendship's holy bond, 
 can defy alike the insidious approach of evil and the more 
 open assaults of avowed hostilitv. But why should I 
 longer delay to appease your anxious curiosity? Nor will 
 I. Ladies," lowering his voice to a theatrical whisper 
 which sounded like the bass-notes of a violoncello, "my 
 appearance beneath this hospitable roof is both a warning 
 of danger and a suggestion of its avoidance." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed both women in the same breath, 
 their countenances well simulating an agitation that made 
 him put out his hands with a repressing and consoling 
 gesture. 
 
 " Nay, nay !" he said with a gentle chiding in his smooth 
 voice; "let not needless fear thus usurp the empire of your 
 cheeks or banish from carmine lip and gleaming eye the 
 heart's serenest smile. There is no immediate cause, even 
 in the present threatening circumstances, for alarm's slight 
 est shudder. I grant there are darkling clouds athwart 
 the domestic sky, obscuring the solar luminary and por 
 tending the gathering of a storm, but notwithstanding
 
 WHAT MAY HAPPEN TO A LOVER. 275 
 
 these portents the uxorial mariner," fixing his calm, con 
 fident gaze on Mrs. Gagger, "shall cross the threatening 
 seas to a smoothly-undulating harbor of safety and of 
 rest." 
 
 " Your words are very encouraging," replied Mrs. Gag 
 ger, drawing a deep sigh and letting her clasped hands fall 
 into her lap, while her great black eyes looked into his 
 face with a timid expression of gratitude. 
 
 " We shall never forget your kindness," interposed Aziel 
 with a tremulous voice, vouchsafing him the briefest glance 
 of her upturned, thankful face. 
 
 " Ladies," laying his hand upon his heart and bowing 
 gallantly to each of them in turn, "your compliments 
 overwhelm me. Would I were more worthy of your 
 distinguished consideration. But why should I delay to 
 communicate the important business which is the object 
 of our present interview? Nor will I. Mrs. Gagger," 
 a touch of gravity obscuring for the instant the complete 
 blandness of his smile, "I shall not be violating the ethics 
 of my profession when I inform you that before your hus 
 band's departure he held a personal interview with me. 
 In justice to the confidence he then and there reposed in 
 me, I cannot divulge the questions he submitted for my 
 legal elucidation. This much I will say for your gratifica 
 tion that his absence will be but temporary, and I cherish 
 the hope that during his self-imposed social exile nothing 
 can transpire in this locality to confirm the unfounded sus 
 picions of his peculiar nature a nature, allow me to add, 
 so jealous of your transcendent beauty and virtue that it 
 excites my admiration as well as my sympathy." 
 
 She sadly shook her head as she rejoined : " I am at 
 an utter loss to understand your meaning, Mr. Craft. 
 Your words are as unintelligible to me as my husband's 
 conduct." 
 
 " Of whom is Mr. Gagger jealous ?" asked Aziel, turn 
 ing upon him a look of modest innocence. 
 
 " Ladies," resumed the lawyer after quite a pause and 
 there was a touch of oifended dignity in his voice "I 
 appear here neither to reveal nor to explore secrets. Pro 
 fessional ethics forbid the one, and friendship the other. 
 My mission to-night is merely to assure you that my pro-
 
 276 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 fessional duty to Mr. Gagger shall in no wise interfere with 
 my friendly offices to Mrs. Gagger. In this case the cause 
 of husband and that of wife are so identical that I cannot 
 further the interests of the one without aiding those of the 
 other. Already I have been commissioned by Mr. Gag 
 ger to respond to any monetary 'demands his wife may 
 make upon me during his absence, and these demands I 
 shall be pleased to liquidate at any time, either by letter 
 or in person." 
 
 "Thank you! Just at present I am in no need of 
 money," said Mrs. Gagger with a haughty little inclina 
 tion of her head. " You can keep my husband's funds 
 untouched by me until his return." 
 
 "Ah ! they were merely placed at your disposal in case 
 of necessity," rejoined the lawyer in a mollified tone. 
 
 " What would you advise us to do to allay Mr. Gag- 
 ger's jealousy ?" questioned Aziel, drawing her seat a 
 little nearer the lawyer, her eyes innocently scanning his 
 face. 
 
 " My friendly advice, ladies, is that during his absence 
 you shall allow no stranger to visit this house, no matter 
 who* he may be or what his pretext for corning. And," 
 he went on with a knowing shake of his head, "should 
 you be annoyed by any stranger mark me, I make no 
 insinuation refer him to me without delay. Even if 
 Mr. Gagger's suspicions of identity be correct " here he 
 half closed his eyes and brought together with little taps 
 the open fingers of h'tf, hands " that is no reason why the 
 hymeneal altar of five years ago should lose any of its 
 glory or its binding power." 
 
 "And you will aid us in bringing about so happy a re 
 sult from all this trouble ?" queried Aziel, clasping her 
 hands with a pleading gesture and looking at him with 
 her most winning smile. 
 
 "My chivalric nature responds with all its heart to 
 your request, Miss Loyd. You and Mrs. Gagger here 
 shall yet learn how one true friend can nobly serve the 
 object of his attraction ;" and he ogled her, with his lips 
 expanded like the new moon's crescent smile. 
 
 Some noise without had suddenly caught Mrs. Gagger's 
 attention. She went over to the window to listen, her
 
 WHAT MAY HAPPEN TO A LOVEE. 277 
 
 back turned toward her companions. Thus left com 
 paratively alone with Aziel, the lawyer lost no time in 
 seizing his opportunity ; and opportunity was the one 
 great want of his overburdened heart this evening. He 
 glanced down on the woman at his side with an eager, 
 passionate smile. He caught at her hand and squeezed 
 it violently, his face radiant with smirks and smiles, 
 while with his disengaged hand he quickly brought out 
 from his pocket a little bunch of red roses Mrs. Boozer's 
 flowers and pressed them into her palm, excitedly whis 
 pering, 
 
 " They will speak to you far better than I can. There's 
 a love-message in them. Let them tell it to your heart 
 when I am gone." 
 
 He tried to kiss her hand. She resisted, pulling it from 
 his hold and turning away her face with a smothered 
 laugh. Excited by this sweet exhibition of her coyness, 
 he made a desperate lunge to regain his grasp of the 
 hand so tantalizingly near ; but as he did so the treach 
 erous chair, without so much as a creak of warning, 
 broke beneath him, and the next moment he was strug 
 gling upon the floor, his hands and heels flourishing in 
 the air. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Craft, are you hurt?" screamed Aziel, bend 
 ing over him as, after several spasmodic struggles, he lay 
 motionless, like a great turtle upon its back. 
 
 " Oh, I hope you are not injured !" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Gagger, coming to the rescue with an exaggerated cry of 
 alarm. 
 
 Now, while the personal beauty or attractive appear 
 ance of a turtle suffers no material diminution by his lying 
 upon his back, this attitude of the lawyer severely detracted 
 from his manly appearance and dignified bearing. The 
 harder he strove to regain his feet, the more ludicrous a 
 sight he became. His face grew redder and redder, until 
 it looked like the prize beet at an agricultural show. His 
 fat, short arms stubbornly resisted his frantic efforts to get 
 them under him, while his ponderous legs as stubbornly 
 refused to crook themselves beneath him. All this time 
 the broken pieces of the chair were impinging themselves 
 against his anatomy, giving a pain that added a con-
 
 278 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 strained expression of agony to the confusion of his coun 
 tenance. 
 
 There was but one way for him to get up to roll over 
 and elevate himself by his hands and knees. Modesty 
 and pride alike forbade such an exhibition of his form 
 and lack of suppleness. No; sooner than do that he 
 would ask these ladies to extend their hands and pull 
 him upon his feet. He did so. 
 
 " Ladies," he exclaimed in hoarse puffs as he renewed 
 his exertions, " please give me your hands. A strange 
 weakness has come over my bodily powers. I require 
 your assistance." 
 
 With increased exclamations of sympathy, each seized 
 one of his hands, and at his signal pulled upward with all 
 the might of their outstretched arms. Slowly his large 
 body had begun to rise, and with a mighty effort he had 
 brought one foot beneath his centre of gravity, when 
 intentionally or not we cannot say, for history is seldom 
 exact the women lost their hold, and down he went upon 
 the floor again with a tremendous thud. The women gave 
 little screams of alarm, and recriminating each other for 
 their want of strength bent over him with profuse apol 
 ogies and ardent proffers of another attempt to aid him. 
 He shook his head in despair, and looked up at them with 
 a face of wild dismay. Then, with something very like a 
 groan, he turned over, and with one mighty scramble, as 
 if he were swimming in a shallow pond, at last got upon 
 his hands and knees. From this posture he quickly rose 
 to his feet, and glancing in mute confusion at their re 
 strained faces caught up his hat and coat and darted 
 toward the door. 
 
 " Excuse me, ladies !" he managed to gasp. " I have 
 an engagement. Why need I longer delay? Nor will I." 
 
 Another second and he was gone. In the midst of their 
 half-subdued peals of lairghter they heard him swing open 
 the barn-door with a mighty bang. An instant later his 
 carriage dashed furiously by the house, and sped down the 
 lane at a rattling rate. The women tried to compose them 
 selves and discuss the object of the attorney's visit and its 
 effect upon their future. They could not long be serious 
 with the picture of the lawyer on the floor so vivid in
 
 WHAT PAT DOYLE BROUGHT HOME. 279 
 
 their minds. Yielding themselves fully to this cause of 
 merriment, they laughed until their streaming eyes and 
 aching sides finally brought the quiet of exhaustion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 WHAT PAT DOYLE BROUGHT HOME. 
 
 IT was nearly ten o'clock. Her mistress had retired to 
 her room for the night, and Aziel Loyd was sitting 
 alone, waiting for the return of Doyle, who was already 
 absent far beyond his allotted time. It was neither his 
 delay nor any fear for his safety that busied Aziel's mind 
 as she sat with folded hands looking so thoughtfully into 
 the fire dying out with a farewell feeble glow upon the 
 hearth. There was much for this woman to think of 
 with fear and trembling as the events of the past few 
 days crowded upon her for consideration, threatening her 
 with any other result than that which it was her anxious 
 desire to accomplish. She had thus far planned well, she 
 believed, but how easy it was for all her precautions and 
 schemes to be brought to naught by circumstances beyond 
 her control ! There was so much to be guarded against 
 that could happen, after all, despite the sleepless vigilance 
 with which she was endeavoring to avert the evil that 
 menaced not only those she loved, but herself as well as 
 them ay, even more, perhaps. The evil that hung over 
 herself! What made this thought suddenly blanch her 
 cheek and bring into her face that look of dread \\;hich, 
 stronger or fainter, was ever upon it when she was alone? 
 Why, at the suggestion of this personal danger, had she 
 lost her resolute bearing and clasped her hands with a 
 gesture of alarm, and glanced so quickly behind her, as 
 if she were fearing some apparition standing at yonder 
 outer door? Why did she listen so intently, her eyes rest 
 less with an apprehension that made her whole frame 
 shudder as if she were hearing some foreboding voice in 
 the wind's low moan or a stealthy footfall walking beneath 
 the window. No, she must be mistaken. Those were
 
 280 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 sounds of neither voice nor footsteps. It must have 
 been only the wind she heard sighing through the great 
 elm that overspread the house, or beating with more fit 
 ful gusts upon the lilac-bushes that stood beside the door. 
 
 Sighing now more plaintively than the wind had ever 
 done, she turned again toward the fire. Her face, weary 
 and sad, fell upon her bosom. Too well she knew that it 
 was in her own heart, so tremulous with the secrets of 
 the past, she heard this voice and this footstep. They 
 were always the accompaniments of her nightly dreams 
 and daily solitudes. But was she ever to be thus in dread 
 of them, foreshadowing as they did his image by day and 
 by night? Or would they again be a signal to her, as of 
 old, of joy and of peace? Would he some day be as 
 when she had first known him ? She stopped short here, 
 checking these thoughts with a white, scared look, such as 
 would have come to her face if she had suddenly found her 
 self standing on the brink of some yawning precipice. With 
 the trifle of a shudder, she slowly drew her hand across her 
 brow. There was forced to her countenance a vacant stare, 
 as if she were making a violent effort to forget herself for 
 a moment as if she were striving to banish then and for 
 ever these thoughts which had sounded such a dangerous 
 alarm in her quickly-responding conscience. The strug 
 gle was short and decisive. For an instant a look of 
 quivering pain shot across her pallid features. She put 
 out her hands gropingly, as if she were fain to let go the 
 dearest, most cherished wish of her heart. Then came a 
 smothered cry of anguish, such as he who sinks to death 
 beneath the black waves of the starless sea might utter. 
 Her head fell forward into the clasp of her cold, rigid 
 hands as she murmured wailingly, though with a tremu 
 lous firmness that told of victory, 
 
 " Good-bye for ever, Seth ! God helping me, good-bye 
 for ever !" 
 
 The night-wind bore this last relinquished hope of a 
 woman's broken heart onward through the storm, higher 
 up through the black clouds, far beyond the motionless 
 ether, and laid it at the gate of heaven. And lie who 
 watched there took it up with happy face and placed it in 
 his bosom, as if it were a priceless gem cast that way by
 
 WHAT PAT DOYLE BROUOIIT HOME. 281 
 
 one of the radiant figures who stood upon the shining 
 battlements above him. Down to earth again swept the 
 wind with a roar, rushing over hill and plain, bending 
 beneath its strong embrace the giants of the forest and 
 hurling before it with maddened shriek the branches of 
 trees that would not yield it homage. At last, with a 
 hollow moan, it rested for a moment in the farm-house 
 elm, and then, with a broken sigh, kissed the lilac-bushes 
 and went on in silence through the darkness, leaving the 
 woman no sound to listen to save the ceaseless pour of 
 the rain, that came with no steadier flow than did her 
 own sad tears. 
 
 So absorbed was Aziel in thus giving vent to her sor 
 row and finding a dim pleasure even in these tears for 
 they, relieved a grief she could find no expression for in 
 words that she did not hear a heavy, uncertain step as 
 it trudged up the graveled walk. Nor did she catch the 
 muffled voice of a man, speaking now in soothing tones, 
 and now in louder exclamations of distress. It was only 
 when the wavering stride had stumbled upon the door 
 step, as if bending beneath some burden, and the door 
 itself had been suddenly flung wide open, that she sprang 
 from her chair with a cry of alarm. A short, stifled cry 
 it was, that instantly died away in silence as she saw 
 Doyle, with pale face and staring eyes, standing before 
 her with the motionless and drenched figure of a woman 
 clasped in his arms. 
 
 " Whisht, whisht !" he said, shaking his head in token 
 of silence, and with as reassuring a look as his agitation 
 could command, as Aziel came quickly toward him with 
 a face as pale and affrighted as his own. "It's not a 
 sperrit I am, Misthress Loyd. Don't be so freckened. 
 It's me livin' self that's howldin' in me arms the poor 
 colleen of the miser's hut beyant, lyin' murdhered in the 
 road. Oh, wirra, wirra ! Here she is, the dear crather, 
 pale and bleedin' and cold. May the divil fly away wid 
 the vagabond that struck her the blow !" 
 
 " Murdered !" gasped Aziel with a shudder, laying her 
 trembling hand upon the wet head that rested so motionless 
 upon his shoulder, and gently turning the face to view 
 Emily's face, down one side of which trickled a flow of 
 
 24 *
 
 282 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 blood, appearing all the more crimson by contrast with 
 the death-like paleness that overspread every feature. 
 
 "Yes, murthered she was intirely," assured Pat in a 
 hoarse whisper as, in response to a silent gesture from the 
 woman, he carried the insensible maiden over to the 
 lounge and laid her reverently down upon it, "though it's 
 brathin' a partin' thrifle o' air she is now. Shure," he 
 added, crossing himself and with a deep solemnity in his 
 voice as a gurgling sigh issued from the ashen lips of 
 the girj, "that the last good-bve to 'arth her sow! be's 
 givin'-" 
 
 " flurry ! Fetch me some cold water," interrupted 
 Aziel, who was already kneeling beside Emily and loosen 
 ing the folds of the sufferer's dress, to aid the fluttering 
 respiration she had felt as she touched the silent lips with 
 a tender kiss. Meanwhile, Aziel had gently taken Em 
 ily's head on her arm and pushed back from her forehead 
 the dark and clotted hair that streamed over it. Thus 
 disclosing the wound, she saw, with a relief which gave 
 voice to itself in a suppressed exclamation of joy, that it 
 Mas only a long, jagged flesh-cut over the temple, and that 
 already the flow of blood was ceasing. 
 
 " Here's the wather, Misthress Loyd," whispered Pat, 
 striding on tip toe to her side, " an' ivery dhrop o' it is a 
 blissed prayer from meself fur the dyin' sowl o' her." 
 
 Aziel began to gently sprinkle the upturned, quiet face, 
 which as yet gave no signs of consciousness, though the 
 cool drops fell all over it. With a more copious hand she 
 repeated the experiment, speaking softly in the girl's ear 
 and calling her by name. 
 
 " It's fur iver thim lips is closed," murmured Pat, in 
 tently watching the effect of the water, and holding the 
 pail at arm's length in his two hands. " Shure, it was 
 God's own callin' voice she answered wid thim purty lips 
 in the road beyant a while ago whin the murdherin' vil 
 lain sthruck her the blow o' death. The divil sweep 
 him off the earth and into the depths below !" 
 
 It was some time before Aziel's efforts were rewarded 
 with any success, even ever so trifling. At last, however, 
 a little convulsive shudder passed over the slight figure of 
 the sleeper; there was a faint twitching at her lips; her
 
 WHAT PAT DOYLE BROUGHT HOME. 283 
 
 head stirred with a feeble, uneasy motion, and her quiver 
 ing eyelids finally opened themselves, disclosing for an in 
 stant a vague, wandering look, which was as soon shut out 
 again by the sudden falling of the lids. 
 
 " Did ye mind the awful sthare o' her, Misthress Loyd?" 
 said Pat in a hoarse, frightened tone, suddenly setting the 
 pail upon the floor and withdrawing a few steps with an 
 expression of horror upon his face. " Shure, it's thriflin' 
 wid God's own will ye are, tryin' to bring back her spirit, 
 Misthress Loyd, whin this blessed minit it's on its way 
 to the holy heavens;" and rapidly crossing himself, he 
 gazed steadily upward, as if he were indeed beholding 
 the flight, of her soul to the spirit-land. 
 
 Again the drooping lids of the girl quivered ; this time 
 opening themselves slowly and widely with less spasmodic 
 action, and disclosing a struggling look of returning in 
 telligence. But as soon as her eyes caught a glimpse of 
 Aziel's overhanging face, the girl's body gave a startled 
 motion and her lips suddenly parted, as if she would give 
 vent to a scream ; but exhaustion only gave expression to 
 her alarm in a deep-drawn sigh as she again closed her 
 eyes and a perceptible tremor ran over her frame. 
 
 " Shure, Misthress Loyd, it's a moighty sin ye be doin', 
 now mark me word !" and there was an excited tone of 
 warning in the Irishman's voice. "It's callin' back her 
 sowl ye are, whin the good God has it an' her own body 
 be's tellin' ye it cannot come. Troth, a leprechaun him 
 self couldn't brathe life in her now. A wake an' the grave 
 is all that's lift fur her sweet body. God kape it kindly 
 till the ind o' the wurld, say I, an' it's iver pray in' I'll 
 be fur her sowl." 
 
 Notwithstanding the man's funereal predictions, Aziel 
 did not cease to do everything to bring back the girl to 
 consciousness. With the cooling water she softly sprinkled 
 Emily's face, speaking to her in soothing tones as she 
 gently bathed the wound, wiping away all traces of blood 
 and laying upon the cut a fold of cloth, over which she 
 bound, with a slight pressure, her own handkerchief. 
 These ministrations tended slowly to restore the patient. 
 She breathed more heavily, and a long-drawn sigh came 
 from her lips. Ere long she again opened her eyes.
 
 284 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 With a look of mingled fear and dismay she caught 
 Aziel's hand, and exclaimed, in broken, half-coherent 
 sentences, as she looked wildly around, 
 
 " Oh, save him ! Father ! The man is killing him ! 
 Quick! Help! Save him! Father, father!" 
 
 Then, suddenly overcome by this effort, her voice and 
 her strength failed her, and she sank again insensible in 
 her companion's arms. 
 
 "Oh, the blessed Vargin save us!" said Pat in a husky 
 voice. "Is it murdher she is tellin' us that's goin' on 
 at the hut beyant? Arrah, by the same token, it wor the 
 uligaun I heard this very night as I wor comin' through 
 the woods forninst the miser's hut. Och, wirra, wirra ! 
 God save the owld skinflint, if it's his life thev be's 
 takin'." 
 
 " What was it you heard ? Where did you find her ?" 
 asked Aziel, turning for an instant to question the man, 
 and then redoubling her efforts at resuscitation. 
 
 " It wor comin' through the woods I wor, betwixt 
 O'Hara's and the road beyant," replied Pat in a dry and 
 hollow tone, " when me heart lepped in me mouth, fur, be 
 me sowl, it wor the uligaun I hearn in the tree-tops over 
 me head " 
 
 " The ' uligaun.' What's that ?" interrupted Aziel with 
 a touch of alarm in her voice when she saw how grave 
 and rueful was his face. 
 
 " Faix, it's not much larnin' I have lyin' heavy on me 
 sthomaeh, Misthress Loyd," he answered with a low, def 
 erential shake of his head ; " but troth I know the uligaun 
 is the funeral cry the warnin' o' death ;" and his voice 
 uttered the last words with a sepulchral gasp, and casting 
 up his eyes with a pious look, he slowly crossed himself, 
 his lips moving in prayer. 
 
 "Oh, save him, save him !" suddenly exclaimed Emily, 
 with eyes still closed, and throwing her arms wildly about 
 and speaking slowly, as if she were struggling with some 
 terrible vision. "That bad man is killing father. I see 
 him standing at the door, and father dear father lying 
 dead at his feet. Yes, I see him," her voice growing 
 stronger "a tall man with black eyes and white face. 
 There's a black beard upon his lips and chin."
 
 WHAT PAT DOYLE BROUGHT HOME. 285 
 
 She uttered not another word, for Aziel, with a sudden 
 energy as strange as it was excited, was already shaking 
 her, laying her hand with a nervous pressure upon Em 
 ily's still-moving lips. 
 
 She called her name in a -sharp, quick tone that vibrated 
 with the terror now depicted in her own face, even whiter 
 than the girl's had been. No need of further description 
 to tell her who this man was or add one jot to the horri 
 ble apprehension that had flashed upon her mind. And 
 vet her heart as suddenly recoiled from the thought that 
 Seth Slade had done such a wicked deed. No, no ! He 
 might have committed robbery, but not murder. What 
 should she do ? Emily was silent enough now, but she 
 would soon speak again. No one but herself must hear 
 her further revelations. Aziel turned to the Irishman, 
 and evading the meaning, questioning look on his awe- 
 stricken face said, in a whisper of forced calmness, 
 
 "Something has happened to this girl's father. Are 
 you afraid to saddle the horse and ride down to his hut to 
 see what is the matter ?" 
 
 "Afraid, is it ye ask me I am?" he replied after a pause, 
 during which his face had grown deathly white and his 
 knees smote together. "Snure, it's not the divil him 
 self, wid his red-hot pitchfork, that cud frighten Patrick 
 Doyle." 
 
 " You will go, then, by yourself, and come straight 
 back and tell me all you see?" she asked, looking up at 
 him with an impatient, pleading face. 
 
 " Yis, it's go I will," he said with a courageous shake 
 of his head ; "an' it's me own honest heart an' me good 
 shillelah that will define! me agin man an' divil." 
 
 " Hurry, then !" putting out her hands imploringly. 
 " Heaven will protect you. But stop !" catching his arm 
 as he was moving away, and speaking to him with greater 
 earnestness. "Promise me, Patrick, you will never tell 
 any one what you heard this girl saying just now. It was 
 only a dream, you know." 
 
 " People's dhrames are their own blessed property," he 
 said with a nod as comprehensive as the significant ex 
 pression of his countenance ; " an' it's Patrick Doyle's 
 tongue as can sleep when he bids it."
 
 286 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " How good you are, Patrick !" and Aziel seized his 
 hand with a grateful pressure. " Before you go I wish 
 you would carry her up to my room. It's dangerous for 
 her to lie here longer in her wet clothes. First, though, 
 let me give her something to make her sleep quietly until 
 morning." 
 
 As Aziel held the sleeping-potion to the girl's lips and 
 softly bid her drink it, Emily did so, slowly opening her 
 eve-, and with something like a glance of recognition mur 
 mured, half articulately, 
 
 "His mother! You will love me!" 
 
 The woman answered with a soothing kiss as the eyes 
 closed with the faintest smile, and the lips again were 
 silent. 
 
 " Take her gently in your arms," said Aziel to the man, 
 who, in obedience to her gesture, was already bending 
 over the girl with a compassionate face. 
 
 "Troth, it's handlin' her gently I'd be as if she wor 
 an angel made o' glass," whispered Pat, slowly raising 
 the body and following Aziel, who, light in hand, led 
 the way up stairs, her eyes never once off the girl's 
 face. 
 
 On reaching the upper landing they were met by Mrs. 
 Gagger, who was so astonished by the strange group that 
 she could only stand and look at them with a silent, ques 
 tioning stare. 
 
 " It's the miser's daughter," said Aziel in an under 
 tone, with a gesture of silence. " Patrick found her 
 lying in the road, and brought her here. I will tell you 
 all about it as soon as we have laid her in bed." 
 
 The man deposited his burden on the couch, and in 
 response to a whispered word from Aziel went out and 
 left the two women alone with the sleeper. In a short 
 time they had silently disrobed her. As they were doing 
 this Aziel, unnoticed by her companion, deftly secreted in 
 her own pocket a letter which fell from the loosened folds 
 of the girl's dress. At last they laid her down peacefully 
 at rest, a faint flush upon her checks and the red tide 
 again tinging her half-closed lips. 
 
 "She is very beautiful. Xo wonder he loved her," 
 said Mrs. Gagger, casting a parting look of admiration at
 
 WHAT PAT DOYLE BROUGHT HOME. 287 
 
 the girl as they passed softly out into the hall, leaving the 
 door slightly ajar behind them. " Come into my room 
 now/' speaking to Aziel, "and tell me what has happened. 
 You know I have said several times to-day that I had 
 a presentiment of evil. Can it be possible 
 
 She stopped short, caught at her heart, and looked at 
 Aziel with a fear as well defined in her countenance as to 
 its object as words could have expressed it. Aziel quickly 
 swayed the candle in front of her own face, so that the 
 other could not see in it the half-suppressed response to 
 her suspicion as to who had been this night working this 
 evil at the miser's cottage. 
 
 "Hark! there comes Patrick. We shall know all now," 
 Aziel whispered with averted face as she thrust the candle 
 into Mrs. Gagger's hand and went swiftly down the stair 
 case. In another moment she w r as standing at the open 
 door, gazing with a white, agitated face at the swaying 
 lantern, which was borne up the lane at a rapid rate. 
 
 " Is it ye, Misthress Loyd?" exclaimed Doyle in a husky, 
 excited voice as he leaped from the horse and stood in front 
 of her, a broad smile of relief upon his perspiring face. 
 " Shure, it's good news I have. Divil a murdher is there 
 at all, at all. There's nayther hide nor hair o' a sowl in 
 the hut beyant. Ould Gruntle's gone, and the dog wid 
 him." 
 
 " The miser gone ? Are you sure? Did you look every 
 where for him ?" 
 
 "Troth, it's sware a hole in an iron pot I could that he's 
 gone. Faix, it's all through, the hut I wor, from the cellar 
 to the garret, wid me Ian them, in ivery nook o' the dhirty 
 place. It's the colleen's own door I broke wid a blow o' 
 me foot. An' it's nayther ould Gruntle nor the dog I 
 found, nor," lowering his voice to a mysterious whisper, 
 " the other divil's limb that the purty colleen tould us 
 a while ago wor wid him." 
 
 " Did you search the barn and all around the garden ?" 
 Aziel asked, as if she could not yet trust the hope that 
 began to illumine her face. 
 
 "Indeed did I, wid eyes as sharp as briers. Shure, it's 
 not tindin' his sthock nor cultivatin' his garden Mr. 
 Gruntle is doin' this night. It's i very wh ere I searched
 
 288 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. ' 
 
 for him, an' not a clap o' me eyes on the ould faggot did 
 I get for me throuble." 
 
 " I wonder what has become of him ?" she said, speak 
 ing more to herself than to the other. 
 
 " What's become o' him ?" echoed Pat with a solemn 
 voice and a wise shake of his head. " Faix, it's me own 
 opinion that the divil has taken his own this night an' 
 flew away wid him, dog an' all !" 
 
 " Let us hope that he is not so badly off as that. We 
 may be able to trace his whereabouts to-morrow. You 
 have done bravely to-night, Pat. I thank you from the 
 bottom of my heart," as she shook his hand and bade him 
 good-night. 
 
 " Arrah ! For the loikes of ye, Misthress Loyd. I wud 
 go to the inds o' the 'arth, an' take a smell o' sulphur 
 besides. It's almost the aqual ye are o' Mary O'Hara, 
 Heaven bliss the little desaiver !" and with a modest look 
 of admiration at his companion, he took the bridle-rein of 
 his horse in his hand and went on toward the barn. 
 
 When Aziel turned and shut the door, she found Mrs. 
 Gagger close beside her. She had heard all. Their coun 
 tenances met, but on each was the look of relief the other 
 understood. 
 
 Seth Slade would have laughed heartily had he known 
 how easily convinced they were that he had committed no 
 evil this night, at least. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 UNEXPECTED REVELATIONS. 
 
 first sign of returning consciousness that Nicholas 
 JL Grundle felt was a feeble sensation of being asleep 
 a sensation as yet so dull, so faint, in its effect upon the 
 suspended state of his nervous sensibilities that it made 
 no definite impression upon his brain or roused within it 
 the slightest effort at thought. Bodily functions and in 
 telligence alike seemed floating in an existence intangible 
 to the apprehension of the deadened nerves and relaxed
 
 UNEXPECTED REVELATIONS. 289 
 
 muscles. But as the brain, slowly wakening, began to 
 stir in the mysterious depths of its being, and grope about 
 amid the shapeless fantasies that crowded in upon it, the 
 miser gradually became aware that he was not sleeping, 
 but dreaming. Lying upon his back he must be, dream 
 ing troublous, horrible dreams that grew more startling 
 every instant. Malignant faces were peering into his eyes 
 and laughing hoarsely and tauntingly in his ears, whisper 
 ing threatening words the fearful meaning of which he 
 could not wholly apprehend. Where was he lying, to be 
 so restless as this? Surely such a nightmare had never 
 before come to him in his bed. Yet where else could he 
 be? For, he was sleeping so soundly that, try as he did, 
 with all his might, to waken himself, he could neither 
 speak nor move. On the contrary, he became vividly con 
 scious of two facts that he was fast asleep and powerless 
 to awake. Meanwhile, the fiends, changing their distorted 
 forms at will, danced and gesticulated more madly around 
 and over him. They shrieked and laughed, pulled his 
 hair and pinched him, and blew smoke and fire into his 
 face, that could not turn itself away a hair's breadth from 
 this torment. They told him, with hiss and howl, how 
 completely they had him in their power. Shriek i ugly 
 they threatened that soon they would fly with him to their 
 deep, dark cavern of endless torture, far down in the 
 earth, which was opening already at his very side with a 
 black, yawning chasm. Terrified, he struggled to roll 
 away from this awful brink, which nearer came, and 
 nearer still. But his legs were lead, his arms iron, and a 
 great weight on his chest pressed him more closely to the 
 ground. 
 
 At last, as a fiend more hideous than the others caught 
 his throat in two skeleton hands that dripped with warm 
 blood and drew him down upon the chasm's slippery edge, 
 he made one mighty effort to escape. With this convul 
 sive motion of his body there came a violent shock to 
 him, as if a sharp blow had been struck upon his head. 
 There was a snapping explosion at the base of his brain, 
 like that of a pistol, and an electric flash ran along his 
 spine. Instantly, but with no volition on his part, his 
 eyes opened. But they again closed as quickly, for they 
 
 2f> T
 
 290 AS IT MA Y IIAPPES. 
 
 had seen nothing ami their lids were heavy. But the 
 dream was over. The frightful voices no longer made the 
 darkness vibrate with unseen terrors. The dreadful fig 
 ures had vanished. A grateful sense of relief, which his 
 persistent sleepiness did not wholly efface, stole over him, 
 for his mind faintly struggled to retain this idea of de 
 liverance from danger. He remained in this state of de 
 licious drowsiness a long while, conscious onlv of a dim 
 sensation of quiet existence. And certainly he looked in 
 blissful rest, lying there as calm as any child. His head 
 rested upon his outstretched arm, and his face, over which 
 gleamed the dull light of the fire, was placid in everv fea 
 ture, a trifle of a smile lingering around his mouth. Sud 
 denly he gave a start, though no noise or outward dis 
 turbance had given him cause for such a quick outward 
 movement of his hand, which groped above his head an 
 instant, and then fell limp upon the floor. Whether it 
 were the falling of this hand or the passing blast of the 
 tempest, something had aroused him. He opened his 
 eyes again. This time there was an expression of reviving 
 intelligence in them, though nothing beyond a questioning 
 gaze, with which he looked steadily before him. 
 
 Presently the fireplace, slowly outlining itself in his 
 vision, definitely fixed itself on his glimmering conscious 
 ness, and by the power of association began to tell him 
 where he was. These old brass andirons looked very 
 like his own ; only, as he bent his eyes upon them, they 
 began to whirl about and dance as the fiends had done in 
 his dreams. Was he still asleep, or was he awake? He 
 slowly raised himself upon his elbow and put his hand to 
 his head, which was dizzier now, and full of ringing 
 sounds, such as those made by the clanging of distant 
 bells. He knew his eyes were open, but he saw nothing, 
 only a dull, confused light, in which were shadows and 
 shapes and tiny clouds. Pie swayed to and fro, his brain 
 growing dizzier still, and a deathly nausea coming over 
 him. He fell back upon the floor with something like a 
 moan, and again lay rigid and lifeless. But not long did 
 he remain so. The wind, scudding through the open 
 door, tossed his locks over his face and sported with his 
 withered rags, darting in and out upon his shriveled
 
 UNEXPECTED REVELATIONS. 291 
 
 limbs until such a cold shiver ran over him that he 
 a\voke, this time with a vigorous movement and a sudden 
 alertness of attention. Where was that eold draught coming 
 from? Was his window raised ? He started up on his 
 elbow, and, with something of the old shrewdness coming 
 back to his eyes, shot a swift glance around him. The 
 log in the fireplace fell apart, sending its bright expiring 
 glow throughout the room. In this light the full rev 
 elation of who and where he was flashed upon him, and 
 memory as instantly recalled the events of the night, 
 though confusedly at first. 
 
 For a moment he was dazed, sitting now bolt upright 
 on the floor, his head pressed between his hands and his 
 eyes staring wildly about him in the dusky darkness of 
 the, room. In another instant his mind grew suddenly 
 clear. With a shudder and an exclamation of horror he 
 remembered it all. The stranger, the valise, the strange 
 smell, the struggle, the With a piteous cry he rose, 
 staggering to his feet. What a fearful suggestion had 
 taken possession of his thoughts! His limbs shook so 
 he could scarcely stand. His breath was short and thick 
 with suffocating gasps; his heart seemed to be fluttering 
 with its very last beats. His treasure, his gold ! Was it 
 safe, or had the man robbed him? Pie was crying like a 
 child now, feeling his way along the side of the room 
 toward the cellar-door. When he had reached it and put 
 out lu's hands and found it standing wide open, he gave 
 one long, despairing shriek, as if indeed he had gone mad 
 without recall, and dashed headlong down the stairway. 
 Every sense was keenly active, and he sped across the 
 cellar-floor in the darkness, as certain in his direction as 
 if the light of day had guided him. He seized hold of 
 the box. It had been moved. With a furious yell he 
 clutched at the wall to find the movable stone. It was 
 not there; and his arm, thrust into the cavity with a 
 deeper cry of misery, found neither bag nor remnant of 
 his treasure. It was gone. He had been robbed of the 
 one only work of his life that which to him was life 
 itself. 
 
 Only for an instant did he stand struck dumb with the 
 immensity of his loss and unable to give any expression
 
 292 AS IT J/J Y HAPPEN. 
 
 to his grief. Appalled and overwhelmed though lie was, 
 his mind did not \vhollv forget its cunning, nor did the 
 hope of regaining his treasure entirely forsake him. As 
 quickly as he had come into the cellar, lie no\v made his 
 way out of it. As soon as he had reached the room 
 above he groped about for the valise. His hands fell 
 upon it; he shook it. Is was still h-cavy. Trembling 
 and speechless for no sound had escaped his lips since 
 he had found his treasure gone he crept over to the 
 mantel. Here he took a match from the little box, upon 
 which he readily laid his hand. Striking- this, he held it 
 in front of him, and soon found the candle on the floor. 
 Lighting it, he hurried to the woodshed, giving the dog, 
 lying apparently almost de;<d, but a passing glance. 
 Seizing the axe, he came back to the valise, and putting 
 down the candle swung the weapon in the air. It was a 
 series of powerful blows he dealt the valise blows far 
 stronger than one would have thought could come from 
 his feeble arms. Away across the room flew the padlock. 
 Into the other locks the blade crushed. The valise fell 
 open. As it parted asunder the old man threw aside the 
 axe, and dropped upon his knees in the midst of the con 
 tents, which rolled out before him. Eagerly he seized 
 the largest and heaviest package. It was round and 
 wrapped in an old newspaper. He tore aside the cover 
 ing, and held in his hand a stone! Onlv a stone a 
 common boulder! A hundred such one might pick up 
 along the village road. The miser made no outcry at 
 this discovery, nor did he unwrap another one of the 
 parcels that the broken and emptv valise had strewed in 
 a little pile upon the floor. Gazing at them with a look 
 of stupid wonder, he slowly drew his hand across his eyes, 
 and a light, husky laugh came in little lits from his lips. 
 He shook his head with a playful gesture, and laying 
 his hands upon his sides swayed forward and backward, 
 laughing immoderately at this odd heap of stones, each 
 one wrapped in a paper. It was a funny idea very 
 funny, indeed. The stranger was a joker in truth an 
 immensely funny man ! 
 
 His mirth ceased abruptly. His face changed as in 
 stantly from smiles to frowns, from a meaningless stare to
 
 UNEXPECTED REVELATIONS. 293 
 
 a fearful, questioning look, lie grasped the candle in 
 hands that trembled with the apprehension that had seized 
 him, and ran toward the stairway which led to the floor 
 above. Uttering short cries as piteous as those with which 
 lie had hastened to the hiding-place of his treasure in the 
 cellar, he mounted the stairway and staggered toward the 
 door of Emily's room. How the kev shook in his hand 
 and rattled in the lock! The cold perspiration broke out 
 upon him, making him shiver from head to foot, as if he 
 were standing outside in the storm without a shred of cov 
 ering. What if she too were gone? This awful fear so 
 took away what little strength he had that he could hardly 
 turn the "key, creaking with ominous resistance, and push 
 open the door. A gust of wind flared the light in his 
 hand. He tottered into the room, his lips able only to 
 breathe out her name as he looked wildly about him and 
 saw that she was gone. Suddenly and strangely calm he 
 became, standing there like a statue, the candle clutched 
 in his outstretched hand. His eyes slowly wandered about 
 the room with a vacant gaze, yet he understood it all the 
 empty bed, the open window. She had fled, and with him! 
 Leaped from this window to run away w th the man who 
 had robbed her father ! He said never a word, gave vent 
 to no exclamation of surprise or grief. Onlv a stony and 
 threatening look came into his eyes as he still stood mo 
 tionless, looking first at the bed and then at the window. 
 At last a gleam of cunning came to his face. Over his 
 wrinkles stole a crafty smile, deepening each instant, until 
 it had merged into a spasmodic laugh that rapidly subsided 
 into a low, quiet chuckle. He turned away with a quick 
 step and went down the stairs. He eagerly sought the 
 dog, and kneeling down beside him called his name in a 
 loud, agitated voice, snatching aside the white and strongly- 
 odorous cloth which covered the animal's face. Ctesar did 
 net waken. lie lay there apparently lifeless, his eyes closed, 
 a stream of white froth issuing from his clenched teeth. Yet 
 he was breathing, for the old man, holding his hand close 
 to the creature's mouth, felt the faint breath upon it. 
 Caesar's heart was beating. The miser could feel its gentle 
 throbbing under his own tremulous palm, laid upon the 
 animal's shaggy chest. Pie gently shook the dog, shout-
 
 294 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 ing his name. Then, as this hud no eiieet to arouse the 
 mastiff, he fan and fetched a piteher of water, \vliieh he 
 dashed upon the creature's head. This attempt was effect 
 ual. The dog turned himself slowly over upon his paws, 
 .slightly raised his head, and opened his eyes with a faint 
 growl. But he closed them again, and his head drooped 
 to the floor. Grundle fetched more water. He bathed 
 the mastiff's face with it, talking to him all the while in 
 affectionate tones. Finally, Cresar again opened his eyes 
 and gave a bark of recognition. Then he raised his huge 
 body upon his feet, shaking himself with something of his 
 wonted vigor. Patting the dog and putting a pan of water 
 beside him. the miser left him and began to busy himself 
 actively about the house. First he went to his own room, 
 from which he descended in a short time with a small, 
 well- filled carpet-bag. Setting this upon the floor, he 
 opened the chest of drawers, and selecting from them 
 several packages rolled them into one and placed it be 
 side the bag. All this while his face grew more cunning 
 in its glances and the cautious, meaning smile hovered 
 steadily about his lips. He put on his old brown over 
 coat and his black, napless hat. He took his hickory 
 staff from its corner, and with it an umbrella, faded and 
 dusty. Tims equipped, he loosened the dog's chain from 
 the staple. Holding one end of this chain in his hand, he 
 bade the animal follow him. Picking up his valise and 
 bundle, he went out of the open door, not so much as once 
 stopping to look back at the place he was leaving. As 
 they were passing near the grape-vine under Emily's win 
 dow the mastiff gave a bark and tugged at his chain. The 
 old man pulled him back and spoke sharply to him, but 
 Ctesar only barked the louder, running his nose along the 
 ground under the grape-vine. Grundle stopped and drop 
 ped the chain. 
 
 "Find out which way she has gone if you can," he said, 
 pulling out a girl's shoe from his pocket and rubbing it 
 over the dog's no-e. 
 
 Louder barked CYe-ar. He darted with a whine beneath 
 the grape-vine, then sprang hither and thither in the dark 
 ness, examining everv foot of ground around them. At 
 last, unable to find the trail of his mistress for the rain
 
 AN EARY HOUR AT THE FARM-HOUSE. 295 
 
 Irad obliterated the scent, that would have given him guid 
 ance he crept to the feet of his master and whined pit- 
 eously, as if he thoroughly comprehended what a failure 
 he had made. 
 
 " Never mind, Caesar; you shall yet find them for me," 
 said the old man, patting him and again taking his hold 
 upon the chain. " The world is not wide enough for them 
 to hide long from us." 
 
 He went down the garden-path, past the willow copse, 
 taking the direction of the railroad, if indeed he were 
 going to any definite place, plunging along as he did 
 through the rain and the darkness, laughing now and 
 then so immoderately that even Csesar, who was gravely 
 following, once broke out into a hilarious bark. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 AN EARLY HOUR AT THE FARM-HOUSE. 
 
 first gray streaks of dawn were glancing athwart 
 JL the sky when Aziel awoke and saw Emily still 
 slumbering peacefully beside her. She arose and with 
 noiseless steps made her toilet; then, softly drawing 
 aside the window-curtain, she sat down at the side of 
 the bed. Lightly stroking the cheek of the sleeper, 
 Aziel bent over her, and with a face of forced calmness 
 awaited her awakening. Soon there was a long, quiver 
 ing breath. Emily turned her head with a slow, restless 
 motion, and slowly opening her eyes fixed them updn the 
 watcher with a weary, questioning look, which gradually 
 merged into a faint smile of recognition. Although it was 
 evident from the feebleness of Emily's gaze that the effect 
 of the narcotic was still upon her, she put out her hand 
 with a groping gesture and laid hold of Aziel's palm, slow 
 ly drawing it down to her own cheek with a clinging 
 pressure. 
 
 " Poor child !" murmured the woman, soothingly caress 
 ing Emily's hair with her disengaged hand. "You have 
 nothing to fear now. You are safe here."
 
 296 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 " Where am I ?" asketl Emily, glancing around the 
 room with a faint look of wonder, and then nestling the 
 clasped hand closer to her face. 
 
 " Do you not remember/' said Aziel with a quiet smile 
 and in a tone as calm as if she were relating the most ordi 
 nary adventure, " that you were frightened last night by 
 something in your own home? that you ran away from the 
 house and along the road, where you fell upon a stone that 
 hurt you here/' pointing at the wound, "but not badly? 
 It was only a flesh-cut. It will soon be well." 
 
 The girl's memory had slowly recovered itself while the 
 woman was speaking. The passive look gradually died 
 out of her face, for the recollection of the night before, 
 imperfect though it was, aroused in her mind a feeling 
 of alarm. There came now the quick comprehension of 
 all that had happened. Her father's cry for help again 
 rang in her ears. 
 
 " My father!" she suddenly exclaimed, starting up with 
 an affright that made every feature pallid with anxious ter 
 ror ; " where is he f Oh, do not tell me he is dead " 
 
 " No, child !" quickly interrupted Aziel, laying her 
 hand upon the trembling girl with a tender caress. 
 " Nothing wrong has befallen your father. He is 
 alive" 
 
 "Alive! Is he here? Oh, take me to him!" and 
 Emily, more excited, began to wring her hands and cry 
 for very joy, beseeching her companion to no longer 
 keep her from her father's sight. 
 
 "You must be calmer," replied Aziel with a look of 
 admonition. "You ought to be satisfied for the present 
 to know that your father is alive and well. Perhaps to 
 day you shall see him." 
 
 " Where is he? Isn't he here ?" she asked, trying to 
 repress her tears, though her voice was still agitated, and 
 her look of anxious solicitude grew more earnest as her 
 companion replied to this last question with a negative 
 shake of the head. 
 
 "No, your father is not here," resumed Aziel. "Yet 
 I am sure you will soon see him. But come! Now that 
 you are assured your father is safe from harm, tell me 
 what it was that happened in your home last night.
 
 AN EARLY HOUR AT THE FARM-HOUSE. 297 
 
 Knowing tins, I shall be the better able to take you 
 to your father." 
 
 It was some moments before Emily could sufficiently com 
 pose herself to comply with this request, for the terrible 
 scenes through which she had passed began to be magnified 
 by her imagination as memory recalled them. That piercing 
 cry coming up from the room below was all that she could 
 now think of. She shuddered and wept afresh, bewailing 
 the fate of her father, asserting between her choking sobs 
 that she should never see him again. It was only when 
 Aziel had again assured Emily that her father was alive, 
 and had insisted upon the narration as necessary to the 
 finding- of him, that the girl restrained the tumultuous 
 expression of her grief, and told in broken tones, trem 
 ulous at times with fear, the story of the previous night. 
 
 A/iel listened to the narration with that habitual look 
 of calmness made so easy to her by the constant repression 
 of her feelings. There was not the slightest change in 
 her passive face as she heard the description of the stranger, 
 the story of his first appearance at the miser's hut, his odd 
 valise, his subsequent confidential interviews with Nich 
 olas Grundle, and of his final visit, which had ended with 
 the cry of " Murder !" and the flight, of the girl. It was 
 only when Emily had ceased speaking that a smile that 
 had a touch of hardness in it came over Aziel's face, and 
 she said, in her even voice, 
 
 " Perhaps, after all, this man was an old friend of your 
 father. They may have had business together which your 
 father did not wish you to hear. Nor is it unlikely that 
 vou may have merely imagined you heard your father call 
 for help. You were very much excited, you must remem 
 ber ; you were in the second story, and there was a closed 
 door between you and them. How easy it was for you, a 
 frightened child, to mistake a cry of carousal for one of 
 fear ! You should be very careful how you tell this story 
 to any one besides myself. You might get an innocent man 
 into trouble. In fact, I think you ought to keep your 
 suspicions a secret at least, until they are confirmed by 
 something more likely than what you have been telling 
 me. And you must confess they are only suspicions when 
 I tell you that I sent Patrick Doyle down to your father's
 
 298 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 house soon after you were brought here, and that lie found 
 no trace of any such scenes as you describe. He went all 
 over your house from cellar to garret, through the barn, 
 and everywhere in the garden. He saw nothing and 
 heard nothing. He could find neither your father nor 
 the stranger you have described. What else can you 
 think but that these two men went away together, having 
 some business in common known only to themselves ?" 
 
 "Did you say father has gone away?" Emily slowly 
 questioned, with a dazed face, over which was creeping a 
 white look of dismay. 
 
 "He may not have gone faraway," replied the other, 
 consolingly; "but it is certain he was not in his house, 
 nor anywhere near it, last night when Patrick was there. 
 Did you see no signs yesterday of any preparations of his 
 for leaving his home ?" 
 
 " Yes, now I remember," said the girl hesitatingly, as 
 if she were recalling something indistinct. " He w r as 
 alone nearly all day in his room, working with boxes and 
 trunks. I heard him sav very often, too, that we should 
 soon go away to a new home. He said he would take me 
 with him. Oh, it cannot be," she exclaimed, as if a sus 
 picion of desertion had suddenly flashed upon her, " that 
 father has gone and left me alone ! No, no ! He loved 
 me too much for that !" and despite Aziel's protestations, 
 she burst into a passionate flood of tears, and burying her 
 face in the pillow wept bitterly. 
 
 "It is very unjust in you to be so ready to accuse your 
 father of so cruel an act as deserting you," said Aziel, 
 tenderly stroking the girl's head. "Your love for him 
 ought to give you more faith in his affection for you. 
 Why do you not rather believe with me that he has 
 gone away only for a short time, and that he will soon 
 return again to you?" 
 
 "I will believe it!" quickly rejoined Emily with a little 
 burst of energy and smiling through her tears. " Dear 
 father! how wicked it was for me to doubt him! And 
 hov good in you to tell me how bad I was!" she added, 
 putting her arms around A/iel's neck' and kissing her with 
 an exuberant thankfulness. "Oh, I know I shall love 
 you more dearly every dav ! You are so kind to me.
 
 AN EARLY HOUR AT THE FARM-HOUSE. 299 
 
 You nre so willing to help me. But Volney told me." 
 she added with a little bashful whisper as she hid her face 
 in the other's bosom, "that you would love me very soon, 
 and be a mother to me as well as to him." 
 
 Though Aziel hesitated for a moment to speak and un 
 deceive the girl, she knew it was the only course she could 
 pursue to retain the confidence which Emily was reposing 
 in her; and retain it she must, for the sake of her boy's 
 happiness, if not for her own. So, though the effort tested 
 all her powers of self-control, and, despite them, brought 
 something of the old look of distress into her face, she said 
 quietlv, though with a slight tremor in her voice, 
 
 "Wh'ydo you call me his mother? I was only his 
 nurse. But I love him as much as a mother could, and 
 will love you the same if vou will only let me." 
 
 " You are not his mother?" looking up into her face 
 with a puzzled and half-grieved expression. " I thought 
 you told me yesterday you were." 
 
 "No; you were mistaken. 1 don't remember that I 
 said so. What interest could I have had in thus deceiv 
 ing you?" was the quiet reply. "But even if I am not his 
 mother, I c.m care for him and yon the same as if I were. 
 See, here is his letter to you. 1 took care of it last night. 
 You had better keep it secret while you are here." 
 
 " I am so sorry vou nre not his mother. I was beginning 
 to love you so much," said E:nilv, her frank face falling 
 with undisguised disappointment, after she had hidden the 
 letter, with a faintly-blushing glance, beneath the pillow 
 and again looked up at her companion. 
 
 "Cannot you love me still for what I have been to him 
 and will be to you ?" asked Aziel. Eagerly the girl put 
 out her hands and brought Aziel's face, that had a hurt 
 and sorrowful look upon it, down to her own. Then, kiss 
 ing the trembling lips, she murmured, 
 
 " Forgive me, please. I did not intend to wound vour 
 feelings. I will love you just the same, and you shall 
 love me, too, all you can. Perhaps," she went on, af.rr 
 the other had silently returned her unbrace, " you can get 
 his mother to love me. Do you think she will?" 
 
 "She cannot help it," repl'ed A/iel, cheerily, looking 
 ciown into the childish face with a glance of triumph and
 
 300 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 admiration. "She saw you for the first time last night 
 while you were asleep here, and I know you touched her 
 heart. This morning you will see her," lowering her 
 voice, " but you must not expect too much of her at rirst. 
 Give her love time to grow, and it will be all the stronger 
 for your waiting. But we cannot talk longer now. I 
 must hurry down stairs to mv work. Meanwhile, you 
 can dress yourself. See!" pointing to a chair near by; 
 " here are some clothes of mine I fixed for you last 
 night. They may be a little too large, but they will 
 do until your o\vu are thoroughly dried." 
 
 Kissing Emily and bidding her be of good cheer, Aziel 
 left the room and went softly down stairs, for as vet there 
 was no sound of rising in Mrs. Gagger's apartment. 
 
 Going straight to the kitchen, Aziel started her fire and 
 hastily began her preparations for breakfast, for the old 
 clock striking seven with no sleepv chime admonished her 
 of delay. As she thus busied herself she glanced out at the 
 barn several times, and began to wonder why at this late 
 hour there were so fe\v signs of life about it. Its doors 
 were closed, and looking more intentlv now, she did not 
 see Doyle moving about as usual witli his easy, shuffling 
 step, nor did she hear his morning song; for Patrick 
 never worked without singing persistently iu his loudest 
 voice. Her curiosity thoroughly aroused by this unusual 
 quiet, Aziel threw on her hood and hurried to the barn. 
 So manv strange tilings had happened of late that she 
 would not be wholly surprised, she thought, should she 
 find that Pat had hung himself to a rafter in *a fit of 
 jealousy. As she came around the corner of the house 
 the sound of voices met her ear. Glancing down the lane 
 in their direction, she saw a sight that surprised her nearly 
 as much as Pat's rigid body might have done. A loaded 
 wagon, piled high with all sorts of furniture, and with a 
 cow tied behind it, was coming toward her, and beside it 
 walked O'Hara, Doyle and Volney Slade, all evidently 
 engaged in an excited conversation. 
 
 As she stood watching them with a bewildered gaze, 
 and unable in her astonishment to move a pace in their 
 direction, Doyle was the first to catch sight of her. As 
 he did so he swung his hat with an air of triumph, and,
 
 AN EARLY HOUR AT THE FARM-HOUSE. 301 
 
 savin something to Volney, these two quickened their 
 steps and joined her. 
 
 "A/id," exclaimed Volncy, after his hasty greeting was 
 over, "what has happened here since J went away? Pat 
 lias been telling me the greatest story of horrors I ever 
 heard, until I hardly know whether I am in the land of 
 the living or of the dead. First tell me," the anxiety on 
 his face deepening and his voice suddenly becoming husky, 
 "is it true Emily is here?'' 
 
 " Yes, but she is well. It was only a trilling hurt," 
 A/iel quickly added, seeing the frightened look that had 
 leaped into his face as she spoke the word "yes." 
 
 " Th;mk Heaven for that!" he ejaculated under his 
 drawn breath. " So that Emily is safe, it matters little 
 to. me what else has happened ;" and he tossed his head 
 with a light smile of indifference. 
 
 " Shure, it's a foine lot o' furnichure we've brought ye 
 so airly in the mornin', an' a moighty foine cow, barrin' 
 her horns, Misthress Loyd," interrupted Dennis O'Hara, 
 who had brought his cart to a stand-still in front of the 
 group and was bowing and scraping to Aziel, with his hat 
 and his head held low before her. " Throth, if the cart 
 had been bigger, it's the ould miser's hut Pat wud a had 
 on it, shure." 
 
 " What is the meaning of this?" questioned Aziel, turn 
 ing to Doyle, whose face was in a broad grin of satisfaction. 
 
 "By the sivin .blissid candles, it's as aisy as kissin' 
 hands to tell how it all Avor !" answered Dovle, flourish 
 ing his cap toward the cart. "An' it's meself that had 
 the rale jayneous to circumvant it, an' lave nothin' for the 
 lawyers, wid their suckin'-power o' leeches, to lay their 
 dhirty hands on in the hut bey an t of old Gruntle's." 
 
 " Is this Mr. Grundle's furniture?" asked Aziel with a 
 dumfounded look at the motley array heaped in the 
 greatest disorder upon the wagon. 
 
 " Indade it is nothin' more nor liss. An' it's moighty 
 lucky fur the poor colleen we have it here safe out o' the 
 grip o' the lawyers, Heaven sind thim repintance ! It's 
 stalin' it they wud be doin' afore the sun wor up an hour 
 higher." 
 
 " What right had you to bring it away ?" interposed 
 
 2(5
 
 302 AS IT MAY HArPl-:y. 
 
 Volney with a doubtful shake of his bead. "lam afraid, 
 
 Pat, this will get you into trouble. Suppose Mr. Grumllo 
 should come back to-day ; what then ? It is you who 
 would be taken up for stealing, not the lawyers." 
 
 " Oh, don't be goin' on wid yer humbugging Masther 
 Volney," said Doyle after he had scratched and rubbed his 
 head in every direction for a satisfactory reply. "Share, 
 it's not a hair o' Misther Gruntle we'll iver see in these 
 parts agin. 'Pon me sowl, it's flew away wid thedivil he 
 is entirely, an' it's O'lJara here knows how he wor goin'." 
 
 " Yis ; it's the rale thruth God's own word Patrick 
 is tellin' ye," spoke up Dennis with a face as dismal as 
 his voice. "Old Gruntle towld me yesterday, wid his 
 own lips, he wor goin' away this mornin', an' lie bid me 
 come at five o'clock to see him goin' an' help him wid the 
 cart. Shure, he towld me to say nothin' to no one about 
 it. Faix, I tried to kape the saycret, but it's the owld 
 woman tormented the life out o' me till I towld her, an' 
 thin, whin she promised a tight tongue on it all, she up and 
 tells Mary, an' she, shure, wid a tongue as loose as her 
 mother's, tells Pat here whin he wor sparkin' her last 
 night, the desateful rogue, wid the honey on his lips that 
 drew the saycret out o' her like the cork o' a bottle o' 
 good spirits " 
 
 " Hark to his goostherumfoodle !" interrupted Pat, giv 
 ing him a loud, resounding slap on the ribs with the back 
 of his hand. "Arrah, now, can't ye be tiisv wi I ver 
 tongue, runnin' on like the clapper o' a bell that niver 
 sthops. Shure, it's goin' on wid the story I'd be," address 
 ing himself to the others, "an' not be takin' up yer 
 blessed time wid his nonsense 'twixt the colleen an' me. 
 Heaven bliss the dew on her purty lips, say I! Well, 
 be this and that, it's down at the hut bey ant I wor tin's 
 mornin', afore daylight, wid me lanthern, wait in' fur 
 O'llara an' his cart. Xiver mind," with a sly wink, 
 " how I knew he wor comin'. An' whin he cum an' seen 
 me sthandin' in the door, shure, it's the howl o' him ye 
 ought to have heard, an' the foine elevation, bedad, he 
 give his heels, lavin' his cart in the middle of the road. 
 ' O'Hara,' says I, callin' to him wid me sides sphlittin' 
 wid the laughter that wor chokiu' me, 'is it a ghost ye
 
 4.V EARLY HOUR AT THE FARM-HOUSE. 303 
 
 take me fur? Cum back out o' that, yc gommoch,' says 
 I. ' It' not a ghost that's livin' in me flesh an' bones vit/ 
 says I" 
 
 " Come, Pat !" interrupted Volney with an impatient 
 nod ; " make your story shorter, or it will be an hour be 
 fore you come to any point in it." 
 
 "Indade, Mast her Volney, it's a longer time than that 
 same that people wid more larnin' on their stomachs than 
 I takes to tell a sthory widout any ])oint at all, at all. 
 But it's not tirin' ye wid me diseoorse I'd be, like the 
 praist in the church beyant whist! it's bowld I am to 
 poke fun at him, shure, Heaven bless His Rivirence ! so 
 I'll be tellin' ye the rest as short as a woman sphakes to 
 a man a year after their weddin'. It's all through the 
 mjser's hut we wint, O'Hara an' me, from the cellar to 
 the garret, pokin' our noses wid the vartue of curiosity in 
 ivery crook an' corner o' the same. An' shure impty o' 
 life as the grave it all wor, an' sthill as the heart o' a 
 ghost. Thin it's out to the barn we wint, an' sarehed it 
 through, but it's not owld Gruntle we found at all, at all, 
 only the purty baste forninst ye there, wid her one horn 
 as if her masther wor begrudgin' her the other. ' Well/ 
 says I to O'Hara, 'it's flew away wid the divil the miser 
 has wid his goold, so it's his lavin's we'll put in the cart, 
 an' carry thim to the colleen fur the partin' gift o' the 
 owld sthrap o' her father/ An' so, be the same token, 
 it's here we be, wid all the furnichure and the baste, 
 l>arrin' her other horn, which O'Hara wor lookin' for a 
 long time in her sthall a while ago. Faix, it's certain I 
 am he wor thinkin' she wor puttin' it on an' otf like a 
 colleen the shoe on her purty foot." 
 
 " Well, now that you have finished your story," said 
 Volney, " what do you propose to do with these traps ?" 
 pointing to the wagon with a derisive smile. 
 
 "\\irra ! wirra !" exclaimed Pat, throwing up his 
 hands in utter astonishment and turning to O'Hara. 
 "Listen to the pride o' hi in ! Traps, is it? Shure, it's 
 a cabinful o' illegant things they are, an' many's the 
 colleen that wud moisten her eyes at the sight o' them." 
 
 "We will not further discuss their value,'' the young 
 man rejoined. " The question now is, What shall be
 
 304 AS IT MAY HAPPEX. 
 
 done with them? You had better stow them in the barn 
 for the present. When Miss Grundie is informed of 
 what yon have done, she will decide as to their further 
 disposal ;" and so saying, he turned away with Axlel and 
 entered the house. 
 
 "Traps, is it ?" muttered Pat as he and O'Hara went 
 with the load toward the barn. " Shnre, it's moighty 
 high Masrher Yolney is holdin' his head this morn in'." 
 
 " But who be's payin' me fur haulin' the load ?" asked 
 O'Hara in a lugubrious tone. "Is it a foine job wid 
 no money in it I've bin doin' ?" 
 
 "Och, get out o' that!" growled Doyle, flinging a 
 withering look at him. " Is it afraid o' doin' a good turn 
 fur the orphan ye are, Misther O'Hara, and thrustin' to 
 the good God above fur yer pay?" 
 
 " It's the owld woman that will be axin' me fur the 
 price o' the job," persisted O'Hara with a dubious shake 
 of his head. 
 
 " Is it the owld woman ye be afeerd o' ?" rejoined 
 Doyle in a mocking voice. "Thin I'll give ye a rimedy 
 that will quiet the covetous sowl o' her." 
 
 " For the tindher mercy o' Heaven, make haste an' tell 
 me what it is! Troth, I've tried ivery orgument wid 
 her, and it's proof agin all she is, bad luck to her!" 
 
 "Take a stout sthrap to her back, thin," said Pat with 
 an encouraging glance. "It will quiet the wind o' her 
 an' do the muscles o' yer arms a power o' good." 
 
 "Blur an' agers, ye can keep yer advice fur yer own 
 use, Patrick Doyle, fur it's nayther eves nor hair I'd have 
 if I followed it.'" 
 
 " It's not much hair she's left on ye, anyhow, wid the 
 top o' yer head shinin' loike the vane on the church 
 beyant," replied Doyle with a grin as they reached the 
 barn and prepared to unload the wagon.
 
 A MOTHER'S SCHEME. 305 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 A MOTHER 'S SCHEME. 
 
 "\TTHETHER it were the natural jealousy of a mother 
 VV at the transference of her child's affections to a 
 stranger, or her love for that child, now aroused by ;i 
 realizing sense of her own isolation in the world, or a 
 parental desire for her son's fullest and easiest success 
 in life, certainly it was one, or perhaps all three, of these 
 considerations that influenced Mrs. Gngger as she softly 
 entered Aziel's room and stood looking silently with a re 
 strained smile of recognition at Emilv, who as silently 
 gbinced up at her with a timid, shrinking face. 
 
 " I am pleased to see that you have so soon recovered 
 from your accident," the woman said, slowly advancing 
 with folded hands toward the chair in which Emily was 
 seated. " Do not rise," as the girl made a weary motion to 
 do so. " I observe you are still weak. I shall stay but 
 a moment." 
 
 The haughty bearing of Mrs. Gagger, her cold face and 
 emotionless voice, sent a little shudder of fear through the 
 listener. Emily's countenance quickly lost its faint smile 
 of greeting, and her hand, which she had timidly ex 
 tended toward her companion, fell in her lap with a 
 half-frightened motion, while her eyes sank away from 
 that chilling gaze. 
 
 " I imagine, from your manner," resumed Mrs. Gagger, 
 still standing statue-like, and her tones as rigid as the 
 position she had assumed, " that you think I am angry 
 with you. But I am not angry with you; I am only dis 
 pleased with what you have done. There is yet time for 
 you to right the wrong if you so choose, and for the pur 
 pose of getting you to do this I am here. Unless your 
 appearance deceives me, I am sure you will be influenced 
 and guided by a mother's appeal." 
 
 "Please tell me what wrong I have done?" Emily 
 asked eagerly, putting out her hands with a pleading 
 gesture and fixing her wide-open blue eyes on the other's 
 passionless face with a startled expression. 
 
 26 * U
 
 306 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "I am willing to say that I do not think it is a wrong 
 of which you are as yet conscious, for all of us do things 
 in our selfish moments the evil results of which \ve cannot 
 foresee, so blinded are we by our own feelings, our own in 
 terests. Without our own consciousness, these intrude and 
 affect us. But when some kind friend more mature in the 
 world's experience points out our errors to us, is it not 
 our duty to correct them without that delay which might 
 strengthen our evil judgment, and bring only ruin and 
 remorse where we had sought success and happiness?" 
 
 The girl quickly though quietly nodded assent, with a 
 countenance more bewildered now, for she was trying 
 earnestly though vainly to comprehend the meaning of 
 the woman's words. What had she done to bring upon 
 her these reproofs? This question ran riot through 
 Emily's mind. And yet, so pure had her life been, 
 not even an imaginary wrong suggested itself in answer. 
 The other went on : 
 
 " I shall now speak more frankly. There is nothing to 
 conceal in this matter, for it is an issue of happiness or 
 misery to both you and Yolncy. Concealment would 
 only aggravate the danger I wish to avert. You pro 
 fess to love my son, and have promised to marry him. 
 Am I correct?'' 
 
 "Yes," at length faltered the girl, drooping her scarlet 
 face upon her bosom to hide her blushes, and the fright 
 ened tears as well which had crept suddenly into her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Then, loving him, it will be the easier for you to serve 
 him. AVhat we do for those we love is the best test of 
 our affection the only proof, indeed, of its existence 
 and the surest measure of its strength. You love him 
 well enough, devotedly enough, to seek his happiness in 
 stead of your own ? You are willing to be miserable, if 
 need be, in order that lie may win success in the world 
 and be always happy ? Answer me : could you do this 
 will you do it for him?" 
 
 "Oh, I Avould do anything for his sake!" cried Emily, 
 her face aglow with a loving consecration, little dreaming 
 what the woman meant. " Tell me how I can help him, 
 what I can do to make him happy oh, so very happy. I
 
 A MOTHER'S SCHEME. 307 
 
 will never, never forget you if you will oi)Iy tell me 
 this." 
 
 She stretched out her hands in her ardent entreaty, her 
 heart, overflowing with love's tenderest yearning, flooding 
 her eves with happy tears. 
 
 " Sacrifice is the law of happiness," replied Mrs. Gag- 
 ger, her voice and countenance strangely calm in com 
 parison with the bated breath and solicitous face of the 
 girl, who eagerly caught at every word. " Forgetful ness 
 of ourelves is oftenest the best remembrance we can be 
 stow on those we love. True love cares not so ranch for 
 the present as for the future happiness of the object of its 
 affections. You say you love my son. I do not doubt you 
 think you have given him your whole heart. I see you 
 would quickly tell me you are ready to make any sacrifice, 
 however great, for his welfare. But I do not wish you to 
 do this ; I only ask that you will take back your promise 
 to marry him that you will let him go forth into the 
 world to make his fame and fortune without the hin 
 drance you would be to him as his wife. Do you love 
 him enough for that? or would you, by marrying him, 
 make his struggles for a livelihood all the harder, and by 
 the burdens and cares of married life bring failure upon 
 him ? Failure to him would be poverty and misery and 
 remorse, and what other evils I know not, but can only 
 fear them with all a mother's anxious love." 
 
 Emily was crying bitterly and wringing her little hands, 
 her white, scared face mutely begging the other to say 
 no more. At last, with an energy born of the horror of 
 these words, she cried, 
 
 "Do not say that I would be so cruel to hi mi I love 
 him with all my heart. Sooner than make him unhappy 
 for a moment I would be willing to never see him again. 
 But I thought he would be so happy with me," she went 
 on with a touch of sadness in her despairing tones. '* He 
 told me so. 5 ' 
 
 "Ah ! he is so young !" said Mrs. Gagger softly, coming 
 closer and laying her hand upon the girl's head, bowed in 
 an agonv of tears. " Volney knows nothing of life its 
 trials and hardships. Little does he imagine to what mis 
 ery he would doom you both, marrying, as you two chil-
 
 308 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 dren would, without friends or money. It is for you to 
 warn him of the evil that lie would so innocently bring 
 upon himself. It is your duty, made the easier by your 
 love, to show him what a burden you would be to him 
 when the world shall use him hardly, and he shall slave 
 and toil in vain to escape the poverty and failure that will 
 follow him all the more closely because of your being his 
 wife." 
 
 Emily made no reply beyond her broken sobs and a 
 low, moan that now and then escaped her lips. She cla-p- 
 ed her face in her cold hands, and swayed to and fro in 
 her anguish as if she were slowly but steadily tearing 
 from her heart every hope that love had nurtured there 
 so happily. 
 
 " Listen !" exclaimed the woman under her breath with 
 a little start. "That is his voice. Yes," after a pause ; 
 "lie has returned. I will leave you to think of what I 
 have said," stepping quickly toward the door. " Ilemem- 
 ber, you can make him happy or miserable happy if 
 you let him go free; miserable if vou bind him to 
 you." 
 
 Mrs. Gagger glided noiselessly from the room and en- 
 tered her own apartment as the door at the bottom of 
 the staircase was opened and a light foot sprang up the 
 steps. 
 
 A moment later Volney had passed his mother's closed 
 room, and with a light, impulsive rap on Emily's door had 
 opened it and stood before her. So absorbed was she in her 
 grief that she had heard no sound of his coming, and now 
 that she thought she was alone she was giving expression 
 to her overburdened heart in half-articulate exclamations 
 of sorrow and murmured protestations of the sacrifice her 
 love would readily make for him she so dearly loved. 
 Confused for the instant at the sight of Emilv absorbed 
 in such utter woe for he could not imagine any satis- 
 factorv cause for it in the narration which A/ : el had just 
 given him he stood regarding her with that respectful 
 silence which the exhibition of grief alwavs induces. 
 Then, gently approaching her, he tcnde-ly called her by 
 name, and stood by her side with his eyes, full of love 
 and sympathy, looking down upon her. She heard his
 
 A MOTHER'S SCHEME. 309 
 
 voice, but without that alertness of motion with which it 
 had been her wont to respond to him down by the cluster 
 ing \villo\vs and along the brook, where happy hours had 
 fled too fast for them. Slowly and wearily she raised her 
 head. Instead of the bright smile of welcome he had ex 
 pected, he saw that shrinking, shy, saddened look the 
 same she had given him that other morning when he had 
 said good-bye to her in the willow copse. Trembling with 
 the apprehension that she had indeed ceased to love him, 
 and that the forgiveness he had come to ask would not 
 bring back her heart to him, he caught her hand and pas 
 sionately exclaimed, 
 
 " Emily, speak to me ! Do not look at me with that 
 strange, terror-stricken gaze. I have come to ask you to 
 forgive me to hear you say that you still love me. See!" 
 he went on as a smile of tender sadness crept over her face 
 and he felt her hand, in which he had already placed the 
 jewel, fluttering in his grasp; " here is the locket. I give 
 it back to you with a love stronger and deeper and purer 
 than when I first placed it in your hands. No, no ! Do 
 not turn away. Aziel has told me all. I know you love 
 me, and Heaven is my witness that I love you more sin 
 cerely than my poor lips can express. Will you not be 
 lieve me? What can I do to prove to you the depth of 
 my repentance and the strength of my love?" 
 
 He stopped, his voice dying away in tremulous tones; 
 for her tears had broken out afresh while he had been 
 speaking, and her face had turned partly away from him 
 with a despairing look, and her head sunk upon her 
 bosom. 
 
 " Emily," he cried in broken tones, falling upon his 
 knees and drawing her nearer to him with his close-en 
 circling arm, "do not say you will not forgive me, unde 
 serving though I be. Let your heart speak truly, unworthy 
 as I am to hear its blessed words. You do love me still? 
 You remember all your promises and vows to me? You 
 cannot, you will not, cease to love me?" 
 
 For answer she suddenly raised her face to his a face 
 in which he saw, despite its tears and shadows, her old 
 look of childlike simplicity and truth. Then, as her eyes 
 met his ardent gaze, which as quickly flashed with hope,
 
 310 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 she sank into his arms with a murmured exclamation of 
 jov, hurving her head upon his shoulder. 
 
 "You love me, then, as much as ever?" he tenderly whis 
 pered, pressing a fervent kiss upon the tear-stained cheek 
 lying so close to his lips. 
 
 "Dear Volney!" she softly breathed, as her little arm 
 crept around his neck with a clinging pressure. 
 
 He could not speak; his heart was too full.. Even 
 thought could not formulate the happiness he felt, much 
 less feeble words give expression to it. Life's most joy 
 ful moment was it for him, as it ever has been since love's 
 first whisper was heard in Paradise. He loved and was 
 beloved. Closer to his breast he drew the nestling form 
 that so passively rested in his arms. With many a thrill 
 he felt her soft breath upon his cheek. Glancing down 
 with rapturous lace, he drew in from her eyes, half veiled 
 in happy tears, the look of trusting love she gave him as 
 her lips again murmured his name. What joyous visions 
 of their future were mirrored in her tender, trusting eyes ! 
 
 " This is joy," he said with a fervent kiss, " the world 
 cannot give and cannot take away. And always thus shall 
 we love each other." 
 
 In response she gently touched his cheek with her half- 
 parted lips, and then, with a little bashful start, hid 
 her blushing, happy face on his breast, where she felt his 
 strong heart beating for her a heart so full of joy, so full 
 of love, so full of hope, she knew it was; and his own 
 precious letter, hidden in her bosom, seemed to palpitate 
 in soi't unison with the beatings of their happy hearts. 
 
 " It is very selfish in me," said Volney at last, looking 
 down into her confiding face, turned up to his with the 
 frank trustfulness of a child, " to be so absorbed in my 
 own happiness at meeting you again, so loving and true to 
 me as to forget even for a moment your troubles. But 
 your misfortunes are, and always shall be, mine. You 
 know how sorry I am at what has happened ; yet if it 
 gives me the opportunity to show you how devotedly I 
 love you, I am sure we will both be happier in the end, 
 whatever may be the result of last night's mystery." 
 
 " Do you think father has gone away to stay a long 
 time?" she asked, her arms pressing closer upon his breast
 
 A MOTHER'S SCHEME. 311 
 
 with a little convulsive motion, as if this question had 
 suddenly suggested to her that perhaps in some mysterious 
 way she might lose Volncy also, who seemed, she could 
 not tell how or when, to have divided her heart with her 
 absent parent. 
 
 " I cannot believe that it will be long before we see him 
 again," he replied after a pause, during which his hand 
 gently stroked the head so passively pillowed upon his 
 shoulder. >( We must be patient. Your father, you know, 
 is such a very strange man ; I never could understand his 
 character or imagine any good reason why he has kept you so 
 many years secluded from the world. His leaving you so 
 mysteriously now is as unaccountable to me as the whole 
 course of his life since he has been in Slowville. When 
 feuch a man disappears in the way he has done, it is not 
 so easy to trace him. Perhaps before the day is past," 
 he went on more confidently, " I shall come across some 
 clew to his whereabouts. If I do, you and I will follow 
 it up without delay and find him. Ah, Emily! with you 
 by my side, I could willingly wander the world over in 
 search of anything, if the finding of it should bring only 
 one smile of happiness to your loving eyes." 
 
 His face illumined by the proud consciousness of the 
 eternal endurance of his affection, he kissed her lips, which 
 turned not away as she murmured, 
 
 " I know you love me very, very much. Oh, if father 
 were only here, I should be so happy !" 
 
 " Can you not be happy with me even if your father is 
 not by your side'?" he said with a faint touch of reproach 
 in his voice. " You cannot have him always with you. 
 The time must come when he will go a longer journey 
 than he may be traveling now when you will be left 
 always with me when, if you do not love me with all 
 your heart, as even now I love you, I shall be very mis 
 erable and you will be as unhappy as myself. My little 
 wife that is to be must love me so much that I shall 
 always be first and foremost in her heart, leaving only a 
 little corner there for her father. There, there! do not mis 
 understand me," he continued, speaking quickly and patting 
 her cheek, down which tears were already fast falling, as 
 her face had slowly drooped away from his fervent gaze.
 
 312 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " I was not finding fault with you ; I am sure you love 
 me far more than I deserve. I was only picturing to you 
 our married life, when we will be so engrossed in our love 
 for each other that affection for our parents will be only 
 a secondary pleasure to us. And, darling little wife," 
 pressing her to his breast, "much as 1 shall love you then, 
 I know your love for me will be purer and holier than 
 mine, strive though I may to equal you with the sincerest 
 worship of my heart. You and I married!" he murmured 
 "husband and wife, never to part again, always to be 
 together! The mere thought so fills my heart with joy 
 that I cannot speak. What a transport of happiness the 
 reality will be!" 
 
 He suddenly ceased speaking, for she was trembling 
 and in tears. With a look of alarm he sought to catch a 
 glimpse of her face, as if there he could read the cause of 
 her agitation. She was sobbing and weeping violently as 
 his hand gently turned her unresisting head, and her tear- 
 stained face was for an instant exposed to his startled and 
 questioning gaze. Tenderly he laid her head again upon 
 his breast, touching her forehead with a lingering pressure 
 of his lips. Poor child! he thought; he had been too 
 abrupt. His excited description of their married life had 
 aroused some strange fears in her innocent soul, made 
 greater, perhaps, by the nervous condition of her mind. 
 Yes, lie ought to have approached the subject gradually, 
 if at all at this time. But he would speak gently to her 
 and soothe her. 
 
 " I am sorry," he said in a compassionate whisper, 
 " that my eagerness in regard to our marriage has brought 
 tears to my little wife's eyes. You will forgive me if my 
 love outran my discretion. But it was natural for me to 
 speak of our future happiness, for so bound up are you 
 in my every thought that it seems as if you were already 
 my wife without form or ceremony." 
 
 " Oh, it is not that not that !" she wailed, her arms 
 groping their way again around his neck. " I do love 
 yon I do want to be your wife ; but I cannot. No, no, 
 I cannot! I love you too much to make you unhappy. 
 But oh, I will love you ever so much more than I do 
 now," she went on, clinsrinsi closer to him as her tears
 
 A MOTHER'S SCHEME. 313 
 
 came the faster. " No one shall ever love you so much as 
 I will. I will think of you all day and pray for you all 
 night" 
 
 He quickly interrupted her, putting her out at arm's 
 length with a startled motion. He gazed into her face 
 with such a white, wild look that for the moment it check 
 ed her tears and held in suspense the distressed expression 
 of her countenance. 
 
 " What is this you are saying?" he asked with such a 
 tremor in his husky voice that she shrank just a trifle 
 away from him. "You love me, and yet you cannot be 
 my wife ? Can it be possible," he went on, a reproachful 
 look gathering in his eyes, so intently fixed upon her, 
 "that you are trifling with me again, as I thought you 
 did' that morning I bid you good-bye. Oh, Emily, it 
 cannot be that you are so cruel ! No, no ! You do not 
 speak the words of your own heart," his tones softening 
 as he saw her eager look of expostulation, followed so 
 quickly by a yearning glance as steady as it was loving. 
 " I am sure you love me. Every dear feature of your 
 face tells me so. You will be my wife mine for ever ! 
 But why," drawing her again to him and gazing reproach 
 fully into her eyes, that were glistening with happy tears 
 " why have you talked so strangely of never becoming 
 my wife ? AYhat reason is there that you should not 
 marry me ? Come ! tell me who put these thoughts into 
 your guileless mind? Are they echoes of your father's 
 words still lingering there?" 
 
 " No, no !" she murmured, hesitatingly, catching her 
 words now and then with a sob ; " he never told me not 
 to marrv you for fear I should prevent you beco riling a 
 groat and rich man. He only wanted me to wait," she 
 wont on, stammering and sobbing more freely, " until I 
 was sure I I loved you !" 
 
 "Are you sure of it now ?" he asked, a smile of assur 
 ance flitting across his grave face. 
 
 "Yes; very, very sure," she answered with a gentle 
 thrill of firmness in her voice as she hid her blushing 
 cheek upon his shoulder with a shy but tender glance. 
 
 "Then, loving me so," he said, speaking with sudden 
 deliberation in his kindly tone, "you will tell me who it
 
 314 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 is that has been advising you not to mnrrv me for mv 
 o\vn sake. Was it my mother?" putting the question 
 with that quickness with which it had just flashed upon 
 his mind. 
 
 Emily did not answer him, but with a little start turned 
 her face slowly away from his gaze. He felt her form 
 nestle more, closely upon his breast as a slight tremor ran 
 over her. In another instant he saw that she was weeping 
 again. 
 
 " There is no longer need for your tears," he said, a 
 touch of assumed gavetv in his voice, " if my mother's 
 advice is the cause of them. So she is the one," he con 
 tinued with sudden warmth, " that would come between 
 us, now that your father is gone! She would show her 
 love for her only son by trying to rob him of his wife! 
 What an exhibition of a mother's affection ! I thought 
 your father was cruel to us, Emily, but what shall I say 
 of my mother?" he exclaimed with bitterness, while 
 indignation flamed in his eves. 
 
 "You must not be angry with her," said the girl, look 
 ing up at him pleadingly. "She loves you very much 
 I am sure she does: she told me so; and it was only 
 because she loves you that she asked me not to marry 
 you." 
 
 "She asked you not to marry me!" he muttered, a 
 confused expression of pain and shame on his face. 
 "What reasons did she give you? Tell me everything 
 she said. I can bear to hear it all, now that I know the 
 effect of her cruel advice upon you has so soon passed 
 away." 
 
 " Ought I to tell you all she said to me?" asked Emily, 
 just a little uncertainty in the frank questioning of her 
 face. "And if I do," coaxingly patting his cheek, "you 
 will promise me not to be angry with her? She is your 
 mother. I know she loves you. How could she help 
 it?" 
 
 He could hardly repress a smile at the utter simplicity 
 of her words and manner. But the smile soon deepened 
 into a look of admiration and of love as he said with a 
 light laugh, 
 
 " What an innocent, guileless soul you have, to be sure !
 
 A MOTHER'S SCHEME. 315 
 
 So my mother loves me! Let us hope she does. For 
 your sake I will try not to bo angry with her tor what 
 she has clone, though it deeply wounds me. But you 
 have not told me what she said to you. So go on, and 
 omit nothing. Remember, the greatest love begets the 
 fullest confidence. I always want your heart to be freely 
 opened to me, as mine shall eVer be to you." 
 
 She went on now, and told him the conversation in all 
 its details. She could not remember so well what reply 
 she had given to his mother, but what his mother had 
 said to her this she repeated almost word for word, as 
 her love had treasured it up because it so deeply affected 
 the happrness of him for whom she was more than willing 
 to sacrifice all joy of her own. When she had finished 
 the fecital, he remained for a moment in silence, trying to 
 repress all exhibitions of the anger he felt, although, 
 despite his efforts, his eyes shone wrathfully, his brows 
 lowered and there were set lines about his rigid lips. 
 
 "You promised me not to be angry," she whispered, 
 soothingly putting up her shapely hand and smoothing 
 out the frown still heavy upon his brow. "You must 
 not look so worried and sad. I will love you just as 
 much as you want me to." 
 
 " You loving, unsuspicious child !" he said at length as 
 he folded her to his breast. "How can I ever prove 
 worthy of your pure devotion. What joy it will be for 
 me to make your happiness the one great aim of my life ! 
 Ah ! what would fortune or fame be to me without you ? 
 dearer than all the fortunes of the world, sweeter far than 
 fame's most noble gifts. No, darling ; all that the world 
 could give me would be but the merest dross and I the 
 poorest beggar on earth were you not my wife. But," 
 checking himself and his old grave look returning, " my 
 love for you must now show itself in action rather than 
 in words. This, darling, is no place for you to stay any 
 longer than is necessary. I know my mother's unrelent 
 ing disposition. As long as you are under this roof she 
 will give you neither peace nor rest, especially when she 
 finds that her talk with you has been of no avail to sepa 
 rate us." 
 
 "But where can I go?" was the wondering question.
 
 316 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 Then, with an earnest look out of her clear blue eyes, she 
 added, as she saw how he hesitated to reply, "I will go 
 anywhere with you." 
 
 "Let its see what the day will bring forth," he replied. 
 "If I find a trace of your father, you shall go with me 
 in .-(arch of him. While I am gone this morning vou 
 had better stay here in this room and rest, and recover as 
 much as you can from that ugly wound, which I see Aziel 
 has so carefully dressed. Ah ! A/del is the woman who 
 should have been my mother," he sighed. "She fairly 
 wor.-hips me, and she will have as much affection for you 
 as she has for me, now that she knows how I love you. 
 I will leave you in her charge. You need not fear mv 
 mother. I will see to it that she does not again speak to 
 you on this subject." 
 
 Giving her a parting embrace, he went slowly toward 
 the door, turning at each step with a loving glance in her 
 direction. 
 
 "Shall I keep the locket?" she called softly after him, 
 with a happy smile holding out the jewel, which all this 
 while had been nestling in her bosom beside the letter. 
 
 " Keep it, and with it the only and dearest love of my 
 heart," he exclaimed passionately, throwing back a kiss as 
 he disappeared through the door. 
 
 As he passed along the hall he stopped at his mother's 
 door and listened. He heard her walking with slow and 
 measured steps backward and forward across her apart 
 ment. 
 
 Opening the door with a slight rap, he entered her 
 room, and stood silently regarding her ; for as soon as 
 her eyes had fallen upon him she stopped where she was 
 and gazed coldly at him, with no other reception than a 
 slight haughty inclination of her head. 
 
 " Mother," he said, advancing slowly and hesitatingly 
 extending his hand, "is this all the welcome you have for 
 me, when I have come back to tell you of my success.'" 
 
 "What other welcome do you deserve?" she replied, 
 not touching the proffered palm and proudly drawing her 
 self away with folded hands. "When a son returns to 
 his mother's house, and first selfishly seeks an unknown 
 girl and lavishes upon her his fresh and loving greetings,
 
 A MOTHER'S SCHEME. 317 
 
 what reception other than this should his mother give to 
 his tardy appearance? Strange that you came here at all! 
 1 wonder that you had not wholly forgotten me in your 
 devotion to that beggar's brat," she added with mingled 
 sarcasm and resentment in her steady tones. 
 
 "You must not taunt me," he exclaimed in a tremulous 
 voice and with a warning gesture of his uplifted hand. 
 "I cannot, I will not, bear it. You have done enough 
 this morning to show how little you love me. You tried 
 to separate my wife from me. You must not now add 
 insult to injury." 
 
 "Injury I" The word came with a prolonged sneer. 
 "You don't know the meaning of the word if you call 
 my advice to that foolish, ignorant girl an injury to you. 
 So you already call her your wife! "What an excellent 
 helpmeet for you 'she will be! She has such ripe judg 
 ment and good common sense. She has shown both of 
 these to a remarkable degree in so soon betraying my con 
 fidence and setting you against your own mother. A model 
 wife, indeed, if deceit be a woman's charm !" 
 
 The hot, angry blood surged through his cheeks and 
 flushed deep-red on his temples. His whole form vibrated 
 with an intensity of passion that showed itself in the swift, 
 vindictive look of his face, the quick swaying of his body 
 and the convulsive clutching of his hands. But he sud 
 denly controlled himself with a violent effort of his will, 
 and for an instant stood rigid as a statue. Then, turning 
 slowly away, he walked with a staggering motion over to 
 the window. Here, with his hands firmly clasping the 
 ledge, he looked out upon the landscape and the sky ; and 
 breathing heavily tried to forget for the moment where he 
 was and what had been said to him. A white look of 
 terror came over his face while he gazed, as if he \\vre 
 now just conscious that in his blinding passion he had 
 barely escaped some awful peril some dreadful undefined 
 thing he might have done in word or deed. He remem 
 bered, too, with a shudder, that several times in his life he 
 had experienced these same wicked feelings toward his 
 mother, and that very often his father had even more 
 quickly aroused them in his boyish breast, 
 
 " You ought to have struck me," resumed his mother, 
 
 27*
 
 318 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 calmly. "You would have been so like your father then, 
 and your blo\v cou-d not have hurt my body more than 
 vour words have already bruised my heart. Words, Yol- 
 ney, are keener than blows. Xeglect is often harder to 
 bear than death itself." 
 
 " You are my mother," he said, hoarsely, his eyes still 
 fixed without. "I forgive you. But I cannot stay here 
 longer," groping his way toward the door and casting back 
 at her a look of fear. "An awful feeling of repulsion has 
 come over me. It tells me that your heart and mine are 
 still strangers to each other, as they have always been. 
 Several times before in inv life have I felt this dreadful 
 sensation of utter hatred toward you when you and I have 
 been angry with each other. What this feeling means or 
 whence it comes, I do not know. God grant that 1 was 
 not born with so terrible a legacv !' 
 
 When he had gone and his unsteady steps had descended 
 the stairs, his mother said, half aloud, to herself, 
 
 " Verv like h:s lather he looked so defiant and re 
 vengeful ! It only needed a blow to complete the resem 
 blance. How strange it is that, although lie is my son, I 
 have never been able to love him as a mother should ! 
 Heaven knows I have tried my best to do so; but all my 
 efforts have been in vain. Ah! well do I remember that 
 night when they laid him, a tinv babe, u;>o;i my arm, how 
 I turned from him and bade the nurse carry him out of 
 my sight. They told me of it afterward, and said it was 
 delirium. Strange delirium it was, to last all these years 
 a delirium that has always kept mother and child so far 
 apart !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIOXX. 
 
 BILL DIBBS had had very bad dreams all night long. 
 He had dreamed of murders, suicides and robberies, 
 as if all the crimes he had read of in the sporting papers 
 were passing before him in one continuous pantomimic
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIONS. 319 
 
 vision. Now, as he finally awoke and found himself sit 
 ting bolt upright in bed, his own hand clutched upon his 
 throat, after he hail dreamed that the grasp of a masked 
 villain was choking his last breath, he gave a great sigh 
 of relief and leaped to the floor. Gathering up his scat 
 tered apparel, he dressed himself in silence with more than 
 his ordinary haste, and with a countenance of unusual 
 gravity. 
 
 " William my boy/' he said at last, in a tragic voice 
 and with an ominous shake of his head, as he took a part 
 ing survey of his red-and-black eye in the cracked glass, 
 " k no west thou not that the turgid dreams which have 
 this night disturbed the placid surface of thy imagination 
 are but the forms and shadows of events to come ? Ay, 
 presentiments, suggestions, prophecies of impending evil, 
 engraven on thy leaden brain by the heavy touch of evil 
 spirits that hovered over thy unconscious cerebellum in 
 the darkness. 'Tis even so, my lord ; and let us hence, to 
 await the signal of alarm that even now trembles on the 
 morning air." 
 
 He rolled his eyes with a theatrical stare in the direction 
 of the window, and then descended with light, long strides 
 to the bar-room. Here, suddenly changing his manner, he 
 whistled a merry good-morning to Spike, threw back the 
 shutters and opened the door, from which he looked with 
 a glance of disdain on the still sleeping town. 
 
 "Sleep on, ye grovelings!" he muttered with a scornful 
 wave of his hand. "Let the precious hours of waking 
 dawn go heedless by, and blame Fortune for your poverty. 
 Ye clods of the valley ! Bah ! to eat, to wag your tongues, 
 to sleep, tl'is is all there is in life to you, ye hewers of 
 wood and drawers of water !" 
 
 He turned to answer a dolorous whistle from Spike, 
 when his eye caught sight of a solitary vehicle coining 
 rapidly up the road from the direction of the miser's 
 hut, 
 
 " Ah ! Do my optics practice deception upon my un 
 quiet soul, or do I behold yon rustic driving furiously 
 apace, as if he were the bearer of ill tidings the rising sun 
 would blush to hear?" and shading his eyes with his hand, 
 he planted one foot firmly in advance of the other and
 
 320 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 bent forward, gazing steadily at the approaching wagon in 
 this dramatic position. 
 
 "I say, Dibbs!" cried the driver when he had conic 
 within bailing-distance. "The devil has broke loose this 
 morning !'' 
 
 "Is this thy sole message after this unseemly haste, my 
 rural friend?" replied the deep voice of Dibbs as lie 
 slowly raised his hand with a contemptuous gesture that 
 was reflected in the curl of his lip, " Knowest thou not 
 that the gentleman to whom you so familiarly allude has 
 been meandering unrestrained through the world's wide 
 domain ever since the day of Adam's unfortunate com 
 plications with his matrimonial partner ? Prithee, toiler 
 at the spade, hadst thou told me the devil were bound, 
 then would I indeed have welcomed thee as a blessed 
 messenger from heaven's aerial vaults." 
 
 The driver, although he had halted his wagon, made 
 no movement to leave it. He sat speechless, with the 
 reins in his listless hands, and gazed with a bewildered, 
 ha If- frightened look at the young man, just as he would 
 have done at one he thought insane, and Dibbs returned 
 his gaze with a steady glance, sharp and penetrating, such 
 as he had often seen liader Craft employ to confound a 
 witness. 
 
 "What's the matter with you?" gasped the man, Avho 
 wa< noted throughout Slowville for the feebleness of his 
 mind. 
 
 Then, turning warily in his seat, he picked up the 
 reins with a slow secret motion, and the next instant 
 yelled frantically for his horse to speed away. 
 
 "Halt, spirit of the morning air!" said Dibbs in sono 
 rous tones as he caught the gaunt head of the still 
 gaunter horse, which as yet had made no effort to move. 
 "Ere thy fleet limbs can convey thy master hence he 
 must divulge the meaning of his mysterious words. 
 Friend of the arable soil," addressing the trembling 
 drivei 1 , " open with quick expansion thy parched lips, and 
 tell me in what particular locality thou hast this morning 
 beheld the devil in his customary looseness. Speak, 
 vassal ! What hast thy dull eyes seen to so affright 
 thine ignoble soul ? What is it thou wouldst tell me,
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIONS. 321 
 
 simple wanderer in pastures green? Speak, if thou 
 wouldst prolong thine inoffensive life !" 
 
 "The miser's run away with his gold, his niece was 
 found dead in the road last night, and the grave in the 
 garden^is open to the bottom and there is nothing in it!" 
 the man exclaimed with chattering teeth. 
 
 " What ! Sayest thou so ? Then get thce gone, thou 
 ill-omened messenger of darkness!" cried Dibbs, giving 
 the horse a fierce poke in the ribs that made him leap 
 forward, throwing the driver heels over head into the 
 back of the wagon, which now dashed away madly along 
 the village street, with the wild cries of the overturned 
 and frightened occupant sounding above the rattling of 
 the wheels. 
 
 u Ay, 'tis well for my most noble purpose that thy 
 panting jade doth bear thee so swiftly from the confines 
 of this curious town," muttered Dibbs as the vehicle 
 disappeared with unslackened speed over the brow of the 
 hill. "Ere these sleeping gossips awake to hear thy 
 villainous news 1 myself shall have probed it to truth's 
 clearest bottom; and where concealment best will serve 
 me, there will I hang upon my tongue the dead weight 
 of cunning silence." 
 
 Thrusting his hand into the depths of his hair with a 
 muttered "Ha! ha!" he strode into the bar-room, casting 
 behind him a comprehensive look of disgust at the still 
 nnaroused village. For a moment he stood immovable 
 in the centre of the room, his arms folded, his eyes fixed 
 upon the floor, and his heavy brows knitted in a por 
 tentous frown. With labored breathing he walked with 
 measured step behind the bar and seized his hat and a 
 stout cane. Shaking his head mysteriously at Spike, 
 who was imitating the frightened cries of the man in the 
 runaway wagon, Dibbs said in guttural tones, 
 
 "Spike, there is horrible news abroad! Cease thy 
 festive imitations of Nature's lamentations. Silence thy 
 unseemly joy; for, in the words of the celestial William, 
 'Thy father's beard is turned white with the news: 
 you may buy' the miser's 'land now as cheap as stinking 
 mackerel.' 
 
 Going to the door at the rear of the bar, he flung it 
 
 V
 
 322 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 open, and with a frightful yell of " Bar, Mrs. Boozer ! 
 bar!" slammed it shut again, and exclaiming "On, most 
 noble youth, with lightning swiftness to the miser's 
 domain !" darted from the house and ran fleetly down the 
 road, his thoughts not less active in suspicions thgn were 
 his limbs quick to bear him hence. 
 
 When, in a very short time, Dibbs had left the village 
 far behind him, and his eager eyes had caught sight of 
 Nicholas Grundle's hut, he came to a sudden halt. Lay 
 ing his hands upon his panting sides, he saw a cart in 
 front of the miser's door, and two men rapidly loading it 
 with the furniture they were hastily dragging out from 
 the cottage. 
 
 " My Milesian friend of the hardened fist, and his pros 
 pective father-in-law," he muttered as his keen gaze recog 
 nized the parties. " But by whose authority are they thus 
 possessing themselves of the miser's personalty ? The 
 plot thickens. I will continue my observations at a dis 
 tance. When in doubt, whether in physics or in morals, 
 take to the woods." 
 
 He crept swiftly over the rail fence, and crouching, 
 made his way stealthily through the underbrush. At last 
 he hid himself behind a fallen tree. Here, with his eves 
 raised just high enough for effective vision, he watched 
 the men, who were in full view, and only a little way off 
 from his safe hiding-place. 
 
 It was not long before he saw, with great relief to both 
 his constrained position and impatient thoughts, the load 
 ing completed, the cow tied to the cart, and the vehicle 
 driven slowly away by the men in the direction of the 
 farm -house. As the group receded farther up the road 
 he raised himself upon his knees and kept the cart in 
 sight until he saw it turn into the lane and finally come 
 to a halt in front of the farm-house door. Then, with a 
 resolute leap, Dibbs sprang to his feet, and running across 
 the clearing was in the miser's hut in a few moments. 
 His heart was beating boldly in spite of his white face 
 and startled eyes; for a passing glance had shown him 
 that the housekeeper's grave was not disturbed. He had 
 not her risen ghost to interfere with the investigations he 
 immediately began to make.
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIONS. 323 
 
 With a reassuring shrug of his shoulders ami a tighter 
 grip upon his cane, he peered cautiously around the desert 
 ed room. The first thing upon which his wary glance 
 fell was the broken valise, and near it the pile of round 
 packages in paper. In an instant he recognized the va 
 lise. Bending over it, he emitted a long, low whistle, 
 while his eyes rolled rapidly with a look of mingled sur 
 prise and cunning. But he said nothing, only shook his 
 head wisely. Turning the valise slowly over, the letters 
 u J. L. A." caught his eye. 
 
 "An alias!" he ejaculated as he laid his finger with a 
 little exultant smile on the side of his nose and whistled 
 more softly as he winked. He stooped, picked up one of 
 the bundles, and slowly unwrapped it. When he saw it 
 confained only a common stone, he gave no evidence of 
 surprise, but kept on winking and whistling, the look of 
 shrewdness deepening on his face all the while. When he 
 had silently unrolled a few of the parcels and found stones 
 within, he tossed those he had unwrapped out of the win 
 dow one by one. The remainder he put into the valise, 
 fixing its shattered sides together as well as he could. 
 Without a word he carried the valise quickly into the back 
 yard, where he dropped it into an old well, and saw it sink 
 out of sight. Silently watching the spot where it had dis 
 appeared until his broad grin was reflected from the quiet 
 surface of the water, Dibbs returned to the house. With 
 his face radiant with the conclusions this discovery had 
 brought him, he resumed his examination of the premises. 
 He hunted through every room for some corroborative 
 trace of what he suspected, opening every closet and pry 
 ing into every corner. But nothing rewarded his search. 
 The rooms and closets were as bare as if the house had 
 never been occupied, so completely had the men cleared it 
 of its contents. 
 
 Dibbs found a piece of a candle on the floor. This he 
 lighted, and after a moment's hesitation descended to the 
 cellar, holding the light in front of him, swiftly swaying 
 his cane right and left, and all the while loudly call 
 ing on several imaginary companions to follow him. A 
 quick, cautious glance around this apartment, so dark and 
 damp and -still, told him he had nothing to fear. The
 
 324 AS IT MAY HAPPES. 
 
 miser Avas not here, guarding his treasure with dog and 
 gun if treasure there had boon here or wore now. Dibbs 
 flared the candle over his head and listened, lie heard 
 no sounds save those of his own heavy breathing and 
 the throbbing of his heart. The breathing and throb 
 bing were loud just now; for courageous as Dibbs was 
 under all other circumstances, he could not endure dark 
 ness or the smell of damp earth. They were too suggest 
 ive to him of death and the grave. Trying to shake off 
 his superstitious fears with a laugh, which was verv faint 
 and hollow, he advanced farther into the cellar and began 
 a rapid survey of its contents. lie peered into barrels and 
 boxes, throwing them down and turning them over, but 
 each and all of them he found contained only the merest 
 trash and refuse. He had almost given up the idea of 
 finding any foundation for his suspicion that here was the 
 hiding-place of the miser's money when his eye caught 
 jight of the hole in he wall. 
 
 Darting over to it, Dibbs thrust in his arm, and ex 
 amined every inch of the cavity. But as he at length 
 drew out his empty hand there was no look of disappoint 
 ment on his face rather, instead, the confident, compre 
 hensive smile with which he had regarded the valise when 
 his eyes had first fallen upon it this morning. He as 
 cended the stairs quickly, flung the candle in the fireplace, 
 and went to the barn. All over this he hunted carefully, 
 through stalls and bins and mows, and then, as if more 
 than satisfied with the result of his labors, sought 'the 
 road. Here, standing in deep and silent meditation for 
 some time, his puzzled face grew clear again, and he bent 
 his steps rapidly in the direction of the farm-house. 
 Here he might pick up the missing links in his chain 
 of evidence. 
 
 He had not proceeded far on his way before he met 
 Dennis O'Hara, from whom he soon learned all the par 
 ticulars of which that loquacious individual was possessed 
 concerning the miser's departure and what had befallen 
 Kmily. 
 
 'A very improbable tale!" exclaimed Dibbs with a 
 doubtful shake of his head as the man finished his ac 
 count, considerably enlarged by his superstitious imagi-
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIONS. 325 
 
 nation. " And lot me advise yon to keep it to yourself. 
 If Ruder Craft gets hold of your story, you will iind 
 yourself clapped into jail before night as a very im 
 portant witness in the case for the Commonwealth ; for 
 according to your tale, the miser has been murdered 
 and his body spirited away, as well as his gold." 
 
 "Shure, is it in the dhirty jail they would put me fur 
 tcllin 5 the thruth, do you say, Mr. Dibbs?'' asked O'Hara, 
 his voice quaking. 
 
 " Even so, my nimblc-tongued Milesian. The cause 
 of justice invariably demands the incarceration of the 
 principal witness to a capital crime. But if you hold 
 your tongue fast, and know nothing about this affair, 
 you will be safe. You know it is best sometimes for a 
 man- to be dumb. Eh?" 
 
 " Throth, I do ! An' it's not a word out o' me tight lips 
 they'll get, no more nor out o' me horse, bedad ! Be jabers, 
 he can tell them more than I know, at all, at all the 
 dhirty blackguards, thini lawyers, tryin' to git an honest 
 man in jail, bad 'cess to thim !" 
 
 O'Hara shook his fist vigorously at the village court 
 house, visible on the distant hill. 
 
 "Hold to those sentiments, and you will keep out of 
 trouble. Good luck to your silence! Don't let your wife 
 break it with a broomstick. I must be going." 
 
 Dibhs turned away and continued his walk toward the 
 farm-house. But when O'Hara, shaking his head and fist 
 bv turns, had parsed out of sight at the bend of the road, 
 Dibbs seated himself with an air of important deliberation 
 beneath a tree by the wayside and gave himself up to deep 
 cogitation, holding his head tightly clasped between his two 
 hands, as was the lawyer's custom when studying a knotty 
 question. For a long time Dibbs remained thus motion 
 less and speechless, his brows alternately knitting and re 
 laxing, his face now covered with perplexing frowns and 
 anon lighted up with quick smiles of apprehension. Turn 
 over the case as lie would, and view it in all the different 
 lights of his keen analysis of the facts, he could not arrive 
 with perfect clearness at the conclusions he sought to es 
 tablish, which were that Nicholas Grundle had been rob 
 bed by the mysterious stranger, and that the miser's disap- 
 
 28
 
 326 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 peair.ive was in some way connected with the robberv. 
 How to reconcile these two conclusions \vas the question 
 that puzzled him. He raised his head at last with a serene 
 smile, and looked at a heap of stones alongside of him with 
 judicial gravity. 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury," he said with a preliminary 
 cough, bowing sternly in the direction of the stones, "you 
 have heard the facts presented by the Commonwealth in 
 this case with all the lucidity of clearness for which out 
 most eminent and learned district attorney is so conspic 
 uously distinguished. It now remains for me, sitting as 
 judge in this important trial, to furnish to your limited 
 understandings the principles of law bv which you shall 
 judge of these facts and properly apply them in the con 
 sideration of your verdict. 
 
 " At the outset of my charge I would impress upon your 
 diminutive intellects the principles of evidence by which 
 you are to be guided as laid down by that most eminent 
 authority on the law of evidence, the Honorable Thomas 
 Starkie, Esq. What says the most noble Starkie? I quote 
 his language literally, committed to memory but a day 
 since in the office of that wily practitioner, Ivader Craft, 
 Esq., who knows more tortuous and belated law than is 
 good for his conscience if he have any or the peace 
 of this community. Starkie says : 
 
 "'Where knowledge cannot be acquired by means of 
 actual and personal observation, there are but two modes 
 by which the existence of a bygone fact can be ascer 
 tained. 
 
 " ' Firstly. By information derived either immediately 
 or mediately from those who had actual knowledge of the 
 fact ; or, 
 
 "'Secondly. By means of inferences or conclusions 
 drawn from other facts connected with the principal fact 
 which can be sufficiently established. 
 
 "'All evidence thus derived, whether immediately or 
 mediately, from such as have had, or are supposed to have 
 had, actual knowledge of the fact, mav not improperly be 
 termed direct evidence; whilst that which is derived merely 
 from collateral circumstances may be termed indirect or 
 inferential evidence.'
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIONS. 327 
 
 " Keeping these two methods of procedure as distinct as 
 possible in your feeble comprehensions, let us proceed to 
 apply them to the present issue. 
 
 "Ab initio, it is evident that the Commonwealth has 
 signally failed to establish by the aforesaid first method 
 the first count in its indictment against the defendant, 
 Seth Slade namely, that of murder. For, beyond the 
 cry of help from the supposed victim, testified to by his 
 daughter, who was not even an eye-witness to the deadly 
 struggle which the Commonwealth avers took place, there 
 lias not been a particle of evidence submitted to establish 
 the theory of such a capital crime as here charged having 
 been committed, while, on the contrary, there is the strong 
 est indirect evidence against it. 
 
 "The body of the supposititious murdered man has not 
 been found, nor has the most careful examination of the 
 premises of Nicholas Grand le given any indications that 
 such a calamity did befall him. 
 
 " Dismissing, then, this first and unsustained count in 
 the indictment, let ns proceed to the next, which charges 
 the defendant, Seth Slade, with the robbery of the afore 
 said Grnndle. 
 
 " Without going through in detail the admirably suc 
 cinct testimony of our esteemed fellow-townsman, William 
 Dibbs, Esq., it must be apparent to your most obtuse 
 intelligences that the charge of robbery against the de 
 fendant has been more than sustained. All the circum 
 stances,, direct and indirect, point inevitably to such a 
 conclusion, whether we consider the midnight visitations 
 of Seth Slade to the. miser's cottage, or the mysterious 
 and dangerous character of the said Slade, or the evidence 
 he left behind of the manner in which he gained his 
 victim's confidence; for that valise filled with stones, 
 gentlemen, clearly indicates a deception practiced for 
 sinister motives. As our Roman ancestors would observe, 
 Sapprcssio veri, suggcdlo falsi, which our classical attor 
 ney, Ilader Craft, Esq., would liberally translate thus: 
 ' He who deceives is also false to all the noble elements 
 of our nature.' 
 
 " And now, gentlemen of the jury, our worthy witness, 
 William Dibbs, Esq., having clearly shown that the
 
 328 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 defendant was a stranger to Nicholas Grnndle, his beiii2 
 seen at the miser's cottage in the dead hour of the night 
 is invulnerable proof that the said Slade was not there 
 from motives of friendship; and the unsocial character 
 of the- miser also precludes the idea that the defendant 
 might have been an invited, or even tolerated, guest. 
 
 " No, gentlemen. Seth Slade is a robber of the deepest 
 dye; for, violating the sanctity of hospitality, lie first 
 overcame his victim by personal violence, as the cry for 
 help attests, and then, while the poor old man lay 
 stretched helpless upon the floor, the unconscionable 
 villain descended with swift feet to the cellar, laid his 
 surreptitious hands upon the miser's treasure, and fled 
 with it under the cover of darkness. 
 
 "Does the Commonwealth attempt to rebut this indi 
 rect evidence, so cumulative, by the mere assertion that 
 if Nicholas Grand le had been robbed he would be here 
 to-day to tell us the tale and method of his misfortune? 
 On the contrary, would not his uncommunicative nature 
 make him keep his secret and himself devise some way 
 to regain his stolen property without, bv publicity, letting 
 it fall a spoil to lawyers and detectives? Is it improbable 
 nay, is it not probable that as soon as Nicholas Grun- 
 dle discovered his loss he started in pursuit of the thief, 
 and is this very moment bending all his cunning faculties 
 to the search ? What other reason than this would lead 
 the miser to desert his daughter, for whom, as we all 
 know, he had an affection that amounted to insanity, so 
 closely did he guard her from intercourse with the outer 
 world so jealous of his child indeed as has been abun 
 dantly testified that she must hear no olher voice than 
 his wakening the sad solitudes of her secluded life? 
 
 " No, gentlemen, it is preposterous to suppose that 
 Nicholas Grundle went away willingly with the man who 
 robbed him, and equally untenable is the proposition that 
 for any reason beyond the attempt to recover his property 
 he so suddenly deserted a child to whom he had devoted 
 every moment of his life since first he came within the 
 limits of this village, now sleeping so soundly on yonder 
 hill, gleaming in the risen sun. Such, then, I see, is your 
 verdict the defendant guiltv o f robberv. You need not
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIONS. 329 
 
 formally announce your finding. I will immediately 
 enter it on record and dismiss you from further con 
 sideration of this case. If it is objected by some of you 
 that I have transcended my powers as a judge by my 
 self trying and deciding the case without your assistance, it 
 may be well for you to know that I act thus not only from 
 inclination, but by precedent as well. It is the province 
 as well as the honorable distinction of gigantic intellects 
 to assume extra-judicial powers for the public good." 
 
 With a dismissing wave of his hand he arose from his 
 seat, and walking a few steps with haughty dignity 
 hurried on to the farm-house. The only indication he 
 gave of- the course he intended to pursue in this matter, 
 which he felt he had examined in all its legal aspects, was 
 an 'energetic; soliloquy as he turned into the lane. 
 
 " Seth Slade," he said with hoarse and measured accents, 
 "before the morning's dawn you will have Bill Dibbs 
 upon your track ; and if the miser cometh down hand 
 somely with the ducats, I shall submit you to his tender 
 mercy. Ah ha ! boast not thyself of safety ! I have no 
 fear of losing either you or the treasure. But where to 
 find the miser? Well, I'll get a clew to him before the 
 day has passed. Now," with a heavy sigh as he drew 
 near the house, "to lift the weight of dread suspicion from 
 the lovely heart of beauteous Aziel. Little her waiting, 
 dreading soul imagines the soothing balm I bear her! 
 Plow her heavenly bosom will heave with joy's most sud 
 den transport when my lips assure her that no more need 
 she fear the visits of the obnoxious stranger !" 
 
 Unobserved, Dibbs crept cautiously to the rear of the 
 house, and peeped through the kitchen-window with his 
 uninjured eye. Azicl, who was alone, saw him, and lav 
 ing her finger on her lips stepped softly to the door, and 
 opened it with a smile of welcome which quickly gave 
 way to a questioning look of fear. 
 
 "The girl is sale?" asked Dibbs in a whisper, his 
 face suddenly erowin"; scarlet under her earnest though 
 
 J O O O 
 
 friendly gaze. 
 
 " Yes," Aziel replied ; " but what news have you? Has 
 anything been discovered ?" 
 
 " Calm the tumult of (hy soul," he rejoined, throwing 
 28*
 
 330 AS IT MAY JIAPPEX. 
 
 a deep meaning into his low voice. " Xo longer need you 
 fear the return of the mysterious stranger. These pre 
 cincts he will never willingly tread again. Last night's 
 was his final visit in this locality, or I was not born a 
 prophet. I am here to tell you this, and to bid you good 
 bye. Some future time you may better understand my 
 meaning in regard to the movements of Seth Slade. For 
 the present know that the miser's treasure was more cer 
 tain to the aforesaid Slade than Gagger's generosity, more 
 desirable to him than even keeping you two women in 
 constant terror. Again I say, 'Farewell!' If you should 
 ever need a friend, write to yours truly, William Dibbs, 
 Philadelphia." 
 
 "Are you going away very soon ?" she asked, trying to 
 conceal the agitation which his mention of Seth Blade's 
 name as well as his strange explanation of recent events 
 had caused. "Can you not wait till we know more about 
 what really happened last night? You certainly are 
 aware how much we need your friendship. Pardon me, 
 but I have been so interested in your words that I have 
 forgotten to apologize for the rudeness with which Pat 
 rick treated you. I hope your eye was not seriously 
 injured ?" 
 
 "The lawyer settled this claim for damages," said Dibbs 
 with a droll wink, pointing to the injured member, "so 
 Ave will dismiss further consideration of it. Yes, I must 
 speedily depart from Slowville. Delays are dangerous, 
 and this is not the field for investigation. Believe me, 
 my protecting care is no longer necessary to your welfare. 
 One word of warning, and I am done. Beware of the 
 lawyer! Neither you nor Mrs. Gagger will longer need 
 his services or friendship. Last night the exigence for 
 these ceased to exist. The robbery of Nicholas Grnndle 
 may be the miser's loss, but it is your gain. Good-bye !'' 
 
 He caught Axiel's hand in his vehement grasp and kiss 
 ed it with a fervor that half amused and half startled her. 
 lie let it go as quickly as he had seized it, and in another 
 instant had turned silently away, striding slowly around 
 the corner of the house. As he went his eyes fell upon a 
 little bunch of red roses lying on the ground. He recog 
 nized them with a faint start of jov.
 
 DIBBS ARRIVES AT CONCLUSIONS. 331 
 
 " Mrs. Boozer's flowers!" he exclaimed under his breath. 
 "Little she dreamed, when she pinned them on the law 
 yer's noble breast, that he would give them to Aziel as a 
 token of his love. But I will tell the too trusting Boozer 
 of his perfidy. Yes, her innocent heart shall this very 
 day know the depth of Rader Craft's deception." 
 
 Dibbs quickened his pace down the lane, and was con 
 gratulating himself that lie had escaped meeting Patrick 
 Doyle, when he heard the voice of that individual calling 
 to him from behind the fence at the rear of the barn-yard. 
 
 "The top o' the mornin' to ye, Misther Tibbs !" cried 
 Doyle with a bantering flourish of his hand. "Is it seein' 
 much ye are out o' yer widdered eye? For, troth, I can 
 see it's as black as a widder's crape." 
 
 '" No, I don't see very well, child of the bog! I thought 
 your head was a pumpkin or a cabbage sitting on the 
 fence," yelled back Dibbs,. keeping on his way. 
 
 " Be jabers, it's very blind ye are; but the more ye sees, 
 the less ye knows, bedad. Shtire, it's loike one o' yer own 
 whiskey-bottles ye are the liss there's in ye, the more 
 powerful sound ye make, ye chatin' vagabond, that never 
 yit sold a pure dhrop o' the crathur!" 
 
 Dibbs was by this time beyond the reach of the Irish 
 man's voice, and striding rapidly along the main road. 
 Before he reached the miser's hut he left the thoroughfare 
 and continued his way across the fields to the village. He 
 did not enter the town, but making a circuit of it ar 
 rived at the depot, and there sought out the man who had 
 be:>n on watch the previous night. From this official, 
 after cautious questioning, Dibbs learned that at about five 
 o'clock that morning a very old man with a savage-look 
 ing dog had come by himself to the depot and begged a 
 ride on a freight-train just about starting east. 
 
 "Did you put him aboard the train?" asked Dibbs. 
 
 "Oh yes; he begged and cried so, saying it was a case 
 of life and death with him, that I let him and his dog get 
 into an empty box-car, and off they went." 
 
 " Humph !" muttered Dibbs, turning indifferent! v away; 
 "some old tramp on his travels, I s ispect. The tears lie 
 mighty near a fraud's eyes. Well, it was a good thing you* 
 passed him on. Slowville can't afford to feed tramps and
 
 332 AS IT MAY HAPPEX. 
 
 run the poor-house too. Was the d >g a black-and-white 
 mastiff with cropped ears and a stub tail?" 
 
 ' Yes ; hut come, now, how did von know anything 
 about that don-?'' queried the man with a suspu'ious 
 look. 
 
 " In the language of the sarcastic levitv of the beau 
 tiful Beatrice, I reply," said Dibbs with a sly wink, "'I 
 have a good eye, uncle. I can see a church by daylight.'" 
 
 Before the watchman could answer, Dibb.s had leaped 
 from the platform and was on a brisk walk to the town. 
 
 "The last missing link of my bright chain of suspicion 
 has been found," muttered Dibbs, smothering his triumph 
 ant laugh, as he stole along the street toward the inn. "Ah 
 ha! T knew it ! Nicholas Grundle awoke from his dead 
 ly stupor to find himself robbed. lie wasted no precious 
 time in bewailing his loss. With instant cunning he 
 found some clew that pointed to the direction his despoiler 
 had taken. He hastened in pursuit of him. Philadelphia 
 \vas the objective-point of pursuer and pursued. The rob 
 ber and his victim sped over the same track, but the ex 
 press carried the one, and the freight the other the fox 
 and the goose, the hare and the tortoise. But the gno-e 
 shall pluck the fox by the ears, and the tortoise shall catch 
 the hare. Thus saith William Dibbs, who will bring to 
 pass his individual prophecy by his personal presence in 
 the city of Philadelphia. When shall I go? ' This very 
 night !' mv energetic and enthusiastic soul responds. In 
 the words of Ilader Craft, that embodiment of legal lore, 
 1 Whv should I longer deiav ? Xor will I.' " 
 
 * o / 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE TALE OF THE ROSES. 
 
 HEX Dibbs entered the bar-room of the Green Tree 
 Inn, he was not surprised at in fact, he was antici 
 pating the verv reception with which Mrs. Boo/er saluted 
 him. 
 
 "Well, this is high carryings-on.! You gadding all
 
 THE TALE OF THE ROSES. 333 
 
 over tlio country ami leaving my business to take care 
 of itself !" exclaimed tlmt irate female, standing behind the 
 bar, her arms akimbo and flaring her indignant eyes 
 on him. 
 
 " Madam," replied Dibbs, removing his hat with 
 a dignified salute and throwing back his head with a 
 proud gesture, "allow me to observe that the violence 
 of your manner is equaled by the inaccuracy of your 
 grammar. Only when used in the collective sense are 
 plural nouns entitled to a singular predicate 
 
 "Come !" she angrily interrupted, striding from behind 
 the bar with a threatening flourish of her arm ; " I don't 
 want to hear any of your grammar. I pay you for your 
 time, and I have a right to know how you spend it. 
 Where have you been these three mortal hours? That's 
 the question. Been up to the miser's hut with the rest 
 of the fools, I suppose. As if it was any of your business 
 what has become of the old skinflint!" 
 
 " Mrs. Boozer," said Dibbs, still preserving his dignified 
 attitude and waving his hand with a conciliatory motion, 
 " before proceeding farther in this conversation, which 
 promises to become very interesting ere it be concluded, I 
 tender you, with my profound respect, my resignation, to 
 take effect at daylight this morning." 
 
 Mrs. Boozer's anger gave way to astonishment. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you ain't going to 'tend my bar 
 anv more? Whv, it was only last night you said you 
 
 . t,- ' / O v / 
 
 would stay on another year." 
 
 " Madam, in the words of our mutual friend, the law 
 yer, Tenipora mutantur, et nos mutamur in ill in tjie times 
 are changed, and we are changed with them. To alter 
 one's determination is not so much an evidence of incon 
 sistency as it is an indication of a maturer and more en 
 lightened deliberation. As Major Allchin, of the Patriot, 
 would say, I print, but do not stereotype, my opinions. 
 There is continually going on here," tapping his forehead 
 significantly, "an unconscious cerebral progress, so that 
 William Dibbs is wiser on awakening in the morning than 
 when he went to sleep. True it is that I am resolved no 
 longer to be your servant in a fiduciary capacity. But 
 although from this hour I have ceased to elevate vender
 
 334 AS IT ^Li Y I1APPEX. 
 
 bottles for your pecuniary benefit, I nevertheless shall ever 
 bear within this bosom a grateful sense of obligations re 
 ceived at your generous hands, forgetting only ho\v oft 
 your clarion voice has unjustly accused me of a slothful 
 performance of my manifold duties. Commercially, fare 
 well, friend of my early youth !" 
 
 He advanced with a halting pace, slowly drawing one 
 foot after the other with a scraping motion. He extended 
 his hand, which she hesitatingly shook with a bewildered 
 and half-amused air. His announcement of his intention 
 .to leave and the manner in which he had made it equally 
 surprised and confused her, but she could not help smiling 
 at his tragic airs. 
 
 " I am sorry you wihl not stay," she said, her manner 
 more gentle, as Dibbs withdrew his hand and folding his 
 arms regarded her in silence, " but I have been expecting 
 this. I always thought there was more sense in you than 
 you let on to have. I told Mr. Craft yesterday, when he 
 was speaking to me about keeping you, that you would 
 soon be flying off. I have noticed a long time, what with 
 your reading all dav and studying all night, that YOU were 
 getting above your business. Dear me! I never knew it 
 to lull. As soon as people get a little learning into their 
 heads they ain't fit for hard work any more." 
 
 " Far be it from me," rejoined Dibbs with increasing 
 animation, thrusting his left thumb into the arm-hole of 
 his vest and his right hand gesticulating with rapid and 
 graceful motions " far be it from me to defend the in 
 dolence of those whose physical endeavors do not keep 
 pare with their intellectual attainments. But, most noble 
 madam, I claim to belong to a higher race of men. Learn 
 ing is to me only the stepping-stone to progress. As 
 the body itself, even in its simplest movements, cannot 
 advance so much as a step without an intelligent direction 
 of the muscular system, so neither can the highest results 
 of labor in any sphere be attained without that mental 
 discernment which comes only by that laborious develop 
 ment of the higher faculties of the mind which philos 
 ophers call wisdom. Simple learning may not make a 
 man industrious wisdom can, and will. And what does 
 that wisdom which I have acquired iu the methods you
 
 THE TALE OF THE ROSES. 335 
 
 so felicitously describe teach me ? What says her voice, 
 crying, not in the streets as of old, but in my individual 
 auricular organs ? She informs me that a higher sphere 
 than yonder bar awaits me. Yes, there is a niche in the 
 temple of fame awaiting my occupation. In that beckon 
 ing niche, be it small or great, William Dibbs will soon 
 erect his corporosity by the exertions of his own hands, 
 the strivings of his own genius, the elevating powers of 
 his ever-expanding intellect. Mrs. Boozer, this very night, 
 with no companion save Spike, shall I set out upon my 
 journey to fame and fortune. The way may be long, but 
 more firm shall be my each succeeding step ; the way may 
 be dark, but brighter shall glow my undaunted eyes ; the 
 way may be steep and stony and tortuous, leading through 
 dangers and misfortunes, but all the more resolutely shall 
 I keep on my course, until in that glorious niche I stand, 
 rewarded at last for all my endeavors by hearing the sweet 
 sound of Fame's trumpet ringing in my joyful ears. Most 
 worthy woman, good-bye ! And allow me to express the 
 heartfelt wish that the Green Tree Inn may stand many 
 years, a welcome to the weary traveler, and may Fortune's 
 hand ever rest with favor on your angelic brow !" 
 
 Before he had ceased speaking the smiles had died out 
 of his listener's face, and she was wiping a stray tear or 
 two out of her eyes with the corner of her apron. Mrs. 
 Boozer's tears were like the contents of the bottles on the 
 bar diluted to a considerable degree, but still retaining a 
 recognizable trace of the genuine spirit. 
 
 "I am sorry you're going, William," she was saying, 
 accompanying her words with a sniffle. "It leaves me in 
 the lurch. I don't know who I can get to take your place. 
 It's so hard to find honest people nowadays. Dear me ! a 
 lone woman has a hard lot in this world !" 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Boozer, the female mind is naturally de 
 pendent. The ivy clings not more closely to the sturdy 
 oak than does the heart of trusting woman seek sympathy 
 and support iu the tenderness and strength of the mascu 
 line embrace. But even here is danger greater to her 
 than in her loneliness. She may find when too late 
 that she has sacrificed her heart's dearest treasures on 
 the altar of man's deceitfuluess and selfishness. And if,
 
 336 AS IT MAY HAPPEX. 
 
 like yourself, she have fortune, let her beware of man's 
 seductive smile, his flattering words, his devoted atten 
 tions, or she will discover ere the honevmoon be over that 
 it was her fortune that he wooed, her possessions that he 
 sought, her well-filled purse that he smiled upon." 
 
 " I declare, how much you talk like Mr. Craft !" she 
 said with just a visible blush overspreading her broad 
 faee, that beamed with admiration. "He'll be very sorry 
 to have you go away. You know he thinks a great deal 
 of you. He was loud in his praises of von vesterdav." 
 
 "Was he?" sneered Dibbs, slowly curling his lip and 
 snapping his finger contemptuously over his shoulder. 
 "That for his praise!" and with another and louder 
 snap, "That for his friendship!" 
 
 " Why, William, how can you speak that way of the 
 noblest man in all this town ? I thought you were his 
 friend. What has he clone to you ?" 
 
 " Nothing to me. But I were indeed base did I see 
 him deceiving my best friend and not resent it with all 
 the powers of my noble soul," said Dibbs, giving a stout 
 blow upon his bosom with his open hand, and with a 
 wrathful flash in his eyes, which now fastened them 
 selves upon the face of the woman' with a meaning gaze. 
 
 "Who is he deceiving?" she asked at length, her 
 countenance taking slowly on a white, anxious look as 
 his expression softened into a sympathetic glance. 
 
 "Mrs. Boozer," exclaimed Dibbs in a tremulous 
 whisper, seizing her by the hand and putting his mouth 
 close to her ear, " be not alarmed ! Make no outcry, for 
 your salvation depends upon your heeding my \vords. Be 
 ware of the lawyer! lie is deceiving you. I have this 
 morning seen the evidence of his treachery !" 
 
 " I do not believe you," she gasped, her face growing 
 whiter and her body swaying to and fro in his arms, 
 which he had thrown around her to prevent her falling. 
 
 " Madam, rouse yourself! This is no time or place to 
 give way to your emotion. Here ! be seated in this 
 chair," pushing her into one near by. "Retain your 
 self-possession until I bring you some reviving fluid 
 that will put at least temporary vigor into vour sinking 
 soul."
 
 THE TALE OF THE ROSES. 337 
 
 " No, no !" she murmured, suddenly regaining some 
 what of composure as she put out her hands beseechingly. 
 "Go on and tell me what you know. And oh, William, 
 speak the truth, even if it breaks my heart to hear it." 
 
 " Let your heart bend, my dear madam, but not break. 
 Let it not, like the unyielding oak, be uprooted by the 
 violence of the storm, but rather, like the graceful lily of 
 the valley, bend its tender blossoms beneath the fury of 
 the gale and smile again in the coming sunlight " 
 
 "Oh, William, William, will you speak and tell me 
 what the bad news is?" she interrupted with a wail i no- 
 cry, burying her tear-streaming face in her hands and 
 rocking- her portly frame to and fro. 
 
 " In the identical language of the deceiver himself, 
 'Why should I longer delay? Nor will I.' Mrs. 
 Boozer, yesterday you pinned upon the lawyer's breast 
 three flowers red roses, love's truest language, typical, 
 doubtless, of your love, faith and devotion. Where are 
 those flowers now, that on yonder bush wept without woe 
 and blushed without a crime in dewy splendor? Are 
 they imparting to the lawyer's heart the peace of love 
 assured, or are they blushing unseen and wasting their 
 fragrance on the desert air? For answer, my dear 
 madam, let your imagination follow me to the farm-house 
 on the distant hill, where last night the lawyer wooed 
 another heart than yours with the flowers you gave him. 
 Ay, do not start, and I pray thee curb thine ire till a 
 more fitting season, nor let thine anger go forth to wreak 
 itself unjustly upon the innocent object of his treacher 
 ous affections. Though he gave these flowers, fresh with 
 the dew of thy fondest affections, to Aziel Loyd, they 
 were spurned by her even as she rejected his proffered 
 love. This morning mine own eves saw them Iving 
 neglected on their mother-earth, where she to whom he 
 had given them had cast them with disdainful hand." 
 
 "Oh, the scoundrel! the viper!" almost shrieked Mrs. 
 Boozer, her face no longer white, but reddening with fury 
 and revenge; "he shall pay for this!" 
 
 "Call him an anaconda, my dear madam. The sting 
 of a viper is feeble in comparison with the deadly hug of 
 an anaconda," said Dibbs in a sympathetic tone ; "and if 
 ay w
 
 338 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 I can be of service to you in watching to-day the further 
 movements of the aforesaid anaconda, I shall be pleased 
 to keep an eye on his sinuous performances. In return 
 for what I have already told you, I trust that you will 
 keep secret the source of your information. You will not 
 betray me, I believe." 
 
 "Indeed I won't, William. He shall never get any 
 more secrets out of me. I'll fix him, though, you mark 
 my words !" 
 
 As she left the bar-room, jerking her head high and 
 working her fingers with convulsive clutches, Dibbs 
 winked at Spike and smiled maliciously in the direction 
 of the lawyer's office. 
 
 " Spike," he muttered, " the lawyer will in vain plead 
 his own case in a very warm atmosphere before night." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 DOYLE AGAIX J.V ALLY. 
 
 words which Dibbs had spoken were a great re- 
 JL lief for the moment to the harassed and overburdened 
 mind of Aziel Loyd. Scarcely could a respite to the 
 prisoner in his cell have sooner stayed his fears or wak 
 ened the hopes of ultimate escape from his threatening 
 doom. 
 
 What, indeed, was she now, she thought as she stood 
 loaning against the door where Dibbs had parted from 
 her, or what had she been these many weary years, other 
 than a prisoner of hope ? With what longing eyes had 
 she ever been looking from behind the bars of her bitter 
 fate at jovs she knew could never be her own, yet vaguely 
 hoping for them still joys that had been hers in those 
 happy; fleeting days which memory ever treasured with a 
 remorseless tenacity of recollection ! Even now, despite 
 all other thoughts, her mind carried her back, with quiv 
 ering lip and glistening eye, to that time too short, alas ! 
 when life was perfect sunshine, its breath the perfume
 
 DOYLE AGAIN AN ALLY. 339 
 
 of rarest flowers ; sweetest, dearest days of old, when love 
 sighed in joy and wept in transport. 
 
 Though her tears fell fast, she could not forget the one 
 pleasure that had illumined the dark, silent way along 
 which she had walked. No, no ! She could not forget 
 that one remaining treasure of her mined, life buried so 
 deep a secret in her deserted heart. It had shone all these 
 years with an ever-increasing lustre in tiie midst of her 
 fears, her sorrows and her remorse. How well Aziel now 
 remembered that the one only aim of her life had been to 
 guard this treasure from all eyes save her own, to keep 
 this secret until the grave should hide it with her ! And 
 kept ifshe had, though it had cost her ceaseless torturing 
 vigilance by day and by night, filling her soul at times 
 with an agony which was denied even the relief of words 
 or looks or tears. She had kept her secret, though often 
 her bruised heart had cried aloud for her to reveal it. Pa 
 tiently, faithfully, jealously, had she guarded it, sacredly 
 consecrating her life to this one work, ever conscious that 
 it was the only atonement she could make for the past, if 
 atonement it could be. What if, after all this ceaseless 
 struggle of twenty years, she were now to fail of success? 
 Suppose he who had returned from the ocean's silent deep 
 should speak one word ? Oh what misery past all com 
 prehension would come if he whose death had made her 
 secret safe in her own keeping for all time should reveal 
 it in some wild fit of revenge ! She shuddered at these 
 dreadful thoughts, made all the more fearful by the vivid 
 recollection of his threatening words in the woods that morn 
 ing they were alone together. Over her sinking soul there 
 stole that nameless dread of him which for seven years she 
 had not known until she saw him standing the other night 
 in yonder door, with his old evil look fastened upon her 
 a look in which she had so often read his threat to betray 
 that secret which he knew she was in silence nurturing 
 with her very heart's blood. 
 
 It was now that Dibbs' words came to Aziel with a won 
 derful power of assurance. In a flash of reviving hope 
 they dispelled the horrible nightmare that was so rapidly 
 settling down upon her soul. Why should she still so fear 
 this man and what he might do, now that he had just
 
 340 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 committed a crime that would prevent his com in 12; again 
 to this town for many a day? Yet, as she asked herself 
 this question with a faint sigh of relief, the answer came, 
 bringing to her face a doubting, half-frightened look. Ah ! 
 she knew for better than did Dibbs what a daring, un 
 scrupulous man was this one with whom she had to dral. 
 True, she had loved him in those other days, but always 
 with a dread as strong upon her as her passionate affection. 
 Afraid to come here again? Xot he, if by coming he 
 could further any wicked plan, though he ware certain 
 the officers of the law were dogging his verv footsteps. 
 Xo, she ought not trust for safety to so slim a hope as his 
 fear of capture. Rather should she act act on the sup 
 position that he would return, this very night, perhaps, 
 under the shelter of darkness. And if he should come? 
 This thought startled her, bringing back to her face the 
 white, limited look of old, when even his footsteps had 
 been to her the signal of danger. If he should come to 
 night or to-morrow night, or any night, and speak those 
 words which would make her more of an outcast in the 
 world than she even now felt herself to be! Well she 
 smiled a little bitter, defiant smile she could bear it. It 
 would be only one more burden laid upon her heart, that 
 had long since learned its life-lesson of patient endurance. 
 But Volney he whose heart had never known a sorrow ? 
 Oh, never, never upon him must fall the deadly blight 
 of such a revelation ! But what should she do? How 
 could she avert so terrible a calamity? Should the man 
 return this night, he would face his son, and Heaven onlv 
 knew what angry scene between them might not disclose 
 her secret. But Volney must not see him. Xo, uo ! 
 They shall never meet if she can help it. And Volney? 
 He must not this day have the slightest suspicion of 
 his father's return excited by any hint as to the recent 
 mysterious visit. Yes, against both such probabilities 
 must she immediately guard with all the power of 
 scheming she could summon to her aid. Her Volney 
 in danger his happiness threatened for life! Her 
 boy, for whom she had suffered in secret as God and 
 her own heart only knew ! Her boy, whose first in 
 fant smile had been upon her breast whose merry
 
 DOYLE AGAIN AN ALLY. 341 
 
 laugh and joyous shout of childhood her ears had been 
 the first to catch, and upon whose opening manhood she 
 was now doting with hopes so fond and prayers so fer 
 vent ! These thoughts, so suggestive of an evil she 
 would have given her life to avert, startled her into 
 instant action. She caught up her hood, and pulling it 
 down over her face to conceal her agitated features ran 
 to the barn in search of Doyle. She knew how invalu 
 able his aid would be in furthering the plan her active 
 mind had already conceived. For now, as it had ever 
 been in all these years when her secret was in peril, 
 she did not fail in immediately resolving upon some 
 expedient of safety that promised well. 
 
 Suppressing all evidence of her emotion, she quietly 
 entered the door of the barn. She stopped near the 
 threshold, for in the middle of the floor, with his back 
 to her, knelt Doyle, talking rapidly and excitedly to him 
 self. Before him was a large open chest, into which he 
 was peering with loud exclamations of curiosity and ad 
 miration. 
 
 "Shure, it's a dhry-goods sthore in a box," he was say 
 ing as he cautiously took up each article for closer inspec 
 tion. " 'Pon me sowl, thim dhresscs are fit for a queen, 
 so they are! Oh. look at the quality o' thim! Silk an' 
 satin, be jabers ! Well, well, well ! Who would a-thought 
 the owld faggot had these illigant clothes in his hut, wid 
 the poor colleen dhressed loike a beggar, bad 'cess to him ! 
 Oh, be'dad, here's a weddin'-veil an' the orange-flowers!" 
 holding them up to view. " Widout the thrifle o'a smell, 
 troth, these flowers are loike me grandmother's night-cap. 
 Well, well, it's bothered I am entirely wid the sight. Wor 
 it not for me own hands feelin' the same, I'd take me oath 
 a leprechaun wor playin' decipshun wid me eyes. Throth, 
 it's moighty queer, so it is ! Blur an' agers !" he ex 
 claimed excitedly as he gave himself a quick thrust in the 
 ribs after a moment's silent scratching of his head; "I 
 have it now thicker than the measles down at O'Hara's. 
 'Pon me sowl, it's an heiress the colleen is, an' these be 
 her rightful clothes. Oh, bathershin ! Patrick Doyle, ye 
 wor dumb not to say that afore! Av coorse yer right, Mr. 
 Doyle, for wance in yer life ; an' it's plain as a pike-staff 
 
 29*
 
 342 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 now why the owkl skinflint r;m away from the colleen wkl 
 that sthrange man she was tellin' us of last noight. Shure, 
 the man wor her fatlier, an' it's the owld sthrap the miser 
 that helped him stale the fortune o' the poor colleen, an' 
 it's gone off togither they are to injoy it, the murtherin' 
 vaga bones!" 
 
 "So that is your conclusion, is it? And a very good 
 one it is," spoke Aziel, with a little preliminary cough, as 
 she came around in front of Doyle. 
 
 "Oh, blur an' agers !" he exclaimed, springing to his 
 feet with a cry of genuine alarm and putting out his arms 
 with a shielding motion ; " I thought YOU wor a lepre 
 chaun !" Then, as he recognized her, lie drew a long 
 breath of relief, and said, with a sly look at the still open 
 chest, " It wor gratifyin' me curiosity I wor, lookin' at 
 thim illigant dhresses. Throth, it's an heiress the poor 
 colleen is, wid thim foine clothes." , 
 
 " Where did you get these?" asked the woman, looking 
 into the chest with an amazed expression that was greatly 
 relished by her companion. " Did you find this chest in 
 Grundle's cottage?" 
 
 "The silf-same; an' there wor two trunks besides, for- 
 ninst ye there, wid a lot o' men's clothes in thim," pointing 
 to the pile of dilapidated furniture, beneath which a couple 
 of old hair-covered trunks were half buried. 
 
 " I am not so very much surprised at this discovery," 
 said Aziel, speaking to herself apparently, as she briefly 
 examined the contents of the chest. "It only confirms 
 my suspicions as to the mystery which has shrouded her 
 life. These goods, though fresh in material, are very old in 
 stvle, showing that the girl was in some way connected a 
 long time ago with a family of station and fortune " 
 
 " Bedad, I wor savin' that same !" interrupted Pat with 
 an emphatic shake of his head. "Faix, it's me book-oath 
 I could take that thim two divil's limbs, the owld miser 
 an' the black-whiskered vagabone, have run away wid her 
 fortune. Oh, the dhirty thaves ! It's dead as small beer 
 an' stiff as a crutch I hope they both be this blissid 
 minit !" 
 
 " Pat," said Aziel after a moment's silence, her eyes fixed 
 on the chest and her face turned slightly away, " if Master
 
 DOYLE AGAIN AN ALLY. 343 
 
 Volney should ask you about that strange man, I wish 
 you would somehow be unable to describe him. It is best 
 tiiat Master Volney should not know anything about that 
 man in any way whatever" emphasizing the words with a 
 significant glance. "Tne girl has already forgotten how 
 the man looked. You can forget him too, I am sure, 
 when I tell you," her voice vibrating with an emotion 
 she could not conceal, "that if you do so you will be 
 doing both me and Master Volney the greatest service 
 you could render us this side of the grave." 
 
 " Is it to sarve ye an' him ye be askin' me, Misthress 
 Loyd, wid that sweet voice o' yours so sad ? Oh, shure, 
 it's meself that would go through fire an' wather to sarve 
 ye both. It's iver remirnberin' I am the kind words ye 
 both spoke to me so often whin me own heart wor lonely 
 in a sthrange land. Throth," dashing the tears from his 
 eyes, " it wor mother an' sister, an' father an' brother, ye 
 wor to me thin, whin me sowl wor brakin' fur the sound 
 o' a frindly voice, an' me hand trimbled fur the tindher 
 touch o' kindness." 
 
 " Yes, I remember it well the morning you came here 
 directly from the ship with your little bundle and black 
 thorn stick. You were very homesick. The tears glis 
 tened in your eyes then as they do now. Master Volney 
 and I saw how much you needed sympathy and kindness. 
 We gave them freely to you, but not one whit more freely 
 than I know you will now give them to us !" 
 
 " Indade, it's God's own thruth ye be spakin' about 
 me now. An' it's listenin' wid me two opin ears I am 
 fur ye to give me the warnin' wurd that's to sarve ye 
 both." 
 
 " If Master Volney," resumed Aziel with a grateful 
 smile as she laid her hand with a confiding gesture on 
 the Irishman's arm, "should ask you about this strange 
 man, you will be sure not to know anything concerning 
 him in any way about his having been either here or at 
 the miser's cottage. You understand ?" 
 
 " Understhand, is it ?" he returned with a gleam of na 
 tive intelligence in his eyes. " Shure, yer manin' is plain as 
 the sun above me head. Know him, would I ? An' how 
 would I know him ? Faix," he continued with an odd
 
 344 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 grin, drawing his sleeve across a face brimful of mischief, 
 "lave me alone fur a bad mimory, Misthress Loyd. It'^ 
 an inderstherous mind I have fur furgittin' things. 
 Howld me now ! Wor it the tin-peddler ye wor tell- 
 in' me to forgit the looks o', thin?" he asked with a 
 grotesque wink; " fur, by the token o' me slapin' con 
 science, he be the only man I've clapped me two eyes on 
 this week past. Indade, it's moighty lonely I've bin, 
 scein' none o' me own sex hereabouts save Dennis O'Hara. 
 God kape him safely, say I, till I git the marriage-promise 
 from him, and he's not givin' it to me so aisy as he 
 moight, lon.g life to him !'' 
 
 " I see you understand me," said Aziel, turning to go 
 and fixing her earnest eyes on him with a look of speech 
 less gratitude. " Oh, there is one thing more you could 
 do to serve me : you could help me persuade Master 
 Volney to go away with the girl immediately in search 
 of this old man she thinks is her father. Will you do 
 this without my telling you why I wish it ?" 
 
 "Throth, I'm not a tiliscope, to be pryin' into the say- 
 crets o' yer heart, Misthress Loyd. Shnre, it's doin' any 
 thing fur ye I'd be. Be jabers, it's blind as a bat an' 
 deaf as a post I am entirely. Lave me alone fur the goos- 
 therumfoodle that will plaze ye moightily, Misthress 
 Loyd, an' it's sly as a fox I'll be wid it all." 
 
 She pressed his hand warmly and hurried back to the 
 house, confident that her plan was sure of success so far 
 as Doyle was concerned. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 EXPLANATIONS FOR A PURPOSE. 
 
 WHEX Aziel entered the kitchen with a gleam of 
 hope obscuring for the moment the habitual anxiety 
 of her face, she found Volney sitting impatiently in his 
 old place by the window. She had seen him thus many 
 times before in his boyhood days. He was swaying him 
 self to and fro in his chair with a restless motion. His
 
 EXPLANATIONS FOR A PURPOSE. 345 
 
 face alternately flashed and sneered with looks of anger 
 and derision, while his pent-up feelings, finding no ade 
 quate expression in words, vented themselves in the violent 
 drumming of his fingers upon the window-ledge. 
 
 " Here I am, you see, in my usual place of refuge," he 
 exclaimed in a tone of suppressed feeling as he glanced up 
 at her questioning face, over which a white rift of alarm 
 was spreading. " You need not look so frightened. It's 
 only the same old story; mother and I have been quar 
 reling." 
 
 "Quarreling? No, not quarreling so soon after your 
 return, I am sure," said Aziel in that soothing tone of 
 other days he remembered so well. She threw aside her 
 hood, came closer to him, and laying her hand gently upon 
 his 'shoulder continued : " But try to calm yourself, Vol- 
 ney, and tell me what has happened. Let your old nurse 
 help you to bear the trouble. It may become lighter if 
 you share it with her." 
 
 " Aziel," he said with resti^ained energy, and with such 
 a fierce gleam in his eyes that her face grew whiter, " do 
 you remember how once, when I was a boy, you saw me 
 rush wildly into the kitchen of our old house and seize a 
 knife from your very hand ? You asked me what I wanted 
 to do with it, and I told you I was going to kill my father. 
 He had wantonly struck me, and I sought to revenge my 
 self upon him. Do you remember that morning? You 
 caught me in your arms with a cry that still rings in my 
 ears, and held me fast, kissing and caressing me. You 
 talked so soothingly to me that I at last sobbed my anger 
 away, and fell asleep in your lap from the sheer exhaustion 
 of my passion." 
 
 u I remember," she gasped in a whisper, while a look 
 of horror stole over her, and her hand, that rested on his 
 shoulder, trembled violently. " But that was only a freak 
 of boyish passion," she went on, trying to steady her voice. 
 " You did not mean it," 
 
 " Yes, I did mean it," he rejoined, positively " meant 
 it just as much " with a shudder in his lowered voice 
 " as I had a mind a few moments ago to strike my mother. 
 Do not draw away from me so," noticing how she had 
 slightly recoiled from him at these words. " Frenzied
 
 346 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 Avith anger though I was, Heaven saved me from sueli a 
 crime. I do not know how I controlled myself. It seemed 
 to me that I could hear the spirit of my dead father whis 
 pering to me to strike her; and never in all my life 
 though many times, as you know, I have been terribly 
 angry with her was I so impelled to do her bodily harm. 
 If it had been my father standing there, I know I could 
 not have restrained mvself. Oh how awful that a sou, no 
 matter for what reason, should have at times such mur 
 derous feelings they deserve no better name against his 
 parents! I cannot, cannot understand it;" and his voice 
 died away in a groan. 
 
 "What Avas it your mother said to you?" asked Aziel, 
 forc : ng herself to speak calmly, though her voice was 
 husky and tremulous. 
 
 She had now drawn more closely to him, her hand again 
 laid caressingly upon his shoulder. 
 
 " She taunted me with my love for Emily called her a 
 beggar's brat !" Volney replied, his tones again SAvelling 
 Avith passion. " But this Avas not all, or I could have 
 borne it better, hard though it was to hear the girl I so 
 dearly loved scorned and defamed by my own mother. 
 Yes, I could have borne that. When my mother took 
 advantage of that innocent girl's affection for me, and this 
 very morning tried to get her to promise not to marry me 
 on the plea that it would be for my happiness, oh, Aziel, 
 can you wonder that I resented so angrily such a cruel, 
 cruel act?" 
 
 " How do you know your mother did this ?" the woman 
 asked with a half-incredulous look. "She certainly had 
 no opportunity to do so last night, and it was. only a few 
 moments before you came that I left Emily alone and 
 your mother still asleep in her own room." 
 
 '"Emily told me the whole conversation with her own 
 lips, the poor, innocent child ! Mother found ample time, 
 ai'ter you had left Emily, to creep into her room and try 
 her wicked scheme on that trusting, loving creature." 
 
 " Well," said Aziel after a slight pause, during which 
 her hand lightly stroked his head with a seemingly-uncon 
 scious motion, " I am sure she did not succeed. Certainly, 
 Emily made her no such silly promise. I can see how
 
 EXPLANATIONS FOE A PURPOSE. 347 
 
 the dear girl loves you. Nothing hut death can ever 
 separate her from you. Ah ! she knows, and I know, 
 that you will always prove worthy of her." 
 
 " Dear, good Aziel !" he said with something of his old 
 enthusiasm as he took her hand in his fervent grasp; 
 "you always did know how to calm my passions and 
 soothe every angry thought. Yes, it is as you say. 
 Emily not only loves me, but she would marry me now, 
 I believe, were I to ask her, despite mother's crafty 
 counsels." 
 
 " Why should you not marry her whenever you choose?" 
 replied Aziel with an encouraging smile. " I am sure you 
 will soon -be able to support her, and until then I can help 
 you keep want at least from your cupboard. Besides, 
 loving each other so dearly as you do, you will live 
 happily, no matter how humble your home may be." 
 
 " Ah ! those words are such as my mother should have 
 spoken to me," he said, sadly, after many expressions of 
 gratitude. " But it was always so. She was my mother 
 only in naaie, while in you, dear Aziel, I have ever found 
 the fond devotion a mother should have given me." 
 
 She was weeping softly, leaning over him with a 
 yearning look of tenderness such as he remembered had 
 so often lulled him to sleep and greeted the first wakening 
 of his childhood slumbers. And while he was returning 
 her gaze with a thankful, loving expression, she quickly 
 put out her arms, threw them around his neck and burst 
 into a flood of tears. But only for a moment. The next 
 instant she had released him with a little hysterical laugh, 
 and exclaimed, as she wiped away the tears from her 
 happy face, 
 
 "I forgot, Volney, that you were a man. I thought, 
 just for a second, you were my little boy again." 
 
 " If to be a little boy," he gayly rejoined, " is to retain 
 your love, Aziel, consider me your little boy for life." 
 
 He arose and put his arms around her with a soft kiss 
 such as he recollected she had often begged him to give 
 her when he was a child and they had played alone in the 
 orchard of the old farm-house. 
 
 "Now, my dear old nurse," affectionately patting her 
 shoulder, "I must hurry away to the village in search of
 
 348 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 information. If I should find any trace of the old man, 
 I shall immediately take Emily with me and go in search 
 of him. I hope we can leave this very night, for this 
 house is no place for Emily, with mother here. Xo cote-," 
 liis brows lowering a trifle, " that has a serpent in it is 
 safe for a dove. Besides, old Gagger may return any 
 hour, and I would sooner have Emily in the Old Boy's 
 company than in his. But tell me before I go, Aziel, 
 who you think this strange man is that Emily says has 
 been visiting her father secretly of late, and was with him 
 last night when he so mysteriously disappeared." 
 
 " What man ?" asked Aziel with a look of feigned sur 
 prise. " Oh yes ; now I remember," gazing steadily at 
 the floor, as if she were trying to revive her recollection. 
 " Emily did say something about a strange man that came 
 to her father's house last night, but her description of 
 him was so slight for she never saw him but once, and 
 then only with a mere glance that I did not pay much 
 attention to the matter. I have my suspicions, though, 
 that this man may be her real father, with whom Grundle 
 has been in some way in league to keep Emily hidden 
 away in order that they two might possess themselves of 
 her fortune. Perhaps the opportunity for which they 
 have been so long waiting has now arrived, and thev have 
 gone away together to complete their scheme, of which 
 this sudden desertion of Emily forms an important part. 
 Such things have happened." 
 
 "The scoundrels !" muttered the young man. "I wish 
 I could once lay mv hands upon them ! If they should 
 only come within my grasp! Xo better pleasure would I 
 covet than that of being even with them. Strange," he went 
 on, slowly pacing the floor, "that Emily cannot remember 
 how that stranger looked. What an innocent child she is ! 
 All faces must be alike to her. Ha, ha !" with a little laugh ; 
 " now, whom do you suppose she said this man resembled 
 when I was trying to help her recall his features ?" 
 
 "I am sure 1 cannot tell," answered his companion, 
 turning slowly to the table and resuming her final prep 
 arations for breakfast. 
 
 " Why would yon believe it? Emily said the strange 
 man looked like me ! Had it not been for the fear of
 
 EXPLANATIONS FOR A PURPOSE. 349 
 
 hurting her feelings, I should have laughed in her frank 
 little face." 
 
 The loaf of bread which the woman was cutting fell 
 from her grasp and rolled across the floor. The hand 
 that held the knife let it drop upon the table with a con 
 vulsive motion. How loudly beat Aziel's betraying heart ! 
 How suddenly dizzy became her head ! 
 
 It was merely for an instant she lost her self-possession. 
 She sprang after the loaf with a little cry of seeming vex 
 ation, and hastened back to the table, her face, white with 
 apprehension, turned away from him lest he should catch 
 a glimpse of the terrible secret she felt was proclaiming 
 itself in every feature. 
 
 " I am in such a hurry to get breakfast," she said, her 
 back to him and forcing something of a laugh into her 
 hollow voice, "that I am making more haste than speed. 
 I never could cut a round loaf without letting it slip. 
 Come ! Everything is ready now. I will give you your 
 breakfast first, so that you can hurry away to Grundle's 
 cottage, and then to the village. You ought to lose no 
 more valuable time in finding out all you can about last 
 night's mystery." 
 
 " You are right," Volney answered, catching up his hat 
 and turning toward the door. " I, of all others, should 
 be foremost in these investigations. I will take my dear 
 stepfather's horse and wagon, and drive fast enough and 
 far enough to find out something before my return. 
 Meanwhile, I leave Emily in your charge. See that 
 mother has no private conversation with her. As to 
 breakfast, I do not want any. I ate sufficient on the 
 cars this morning. Give my share to Emily." 
 
 With a quick parting wave of his hand he darted out 
 of the door and ran to the barn. 
 
 "Here, Pat!" he cried as that individual emerged from 
 behind the pile of furniture, which he was critically exam 
 ining with longing eyes; "don't waste any more of your 
 time in valuing those traps. They are only fit for kindling- 
 wood. Come, hurry! I want the horse and wagon in less 
 time than you can say your prayers." 
 
 " Throth, Masther Volney, it's savin' me prayers very 
 fast I can be on a cowld night wid a warm bed forniust me. 
 
 30
 
 350 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 So it's traps, is it, ye still be callin' this illigant furni- 
 chure? Well, well, well! If meself an' the colleen be- 
 yant at O'Hara's had the half o' thini, it's marryin' to 
 morrow we'd be, to be shure. Wirra, wirra !" he ejaculated, 
 slowly withdrawing his gaze from the coveted objects; 
 "it's losin' the bist half o' life I am waitin' for the loikes 
 o' these things, bad 'cess to me poverty! Ah! 'tis the 
 poverty that causes half the troubles of life." 
 
 " If Mr. Grundle does not come back to claim his prop 
 erty, you can have the whole of it," said Volney with an 
 indifferent nod at the motley arrav. 
 
 "Oh, shure, it's jokin' wid me desires ye be, Masther 
 Volney!" exclaimed the Irishman, quickly turning a 
 comical doubting look upon him. "Throth, if I wor 
 shure ye wor not humbuggin' me, it's callin' down on ye 
 the blissin' o' Heaven I'd be doin' this very minit." 
 
 " Well, go on and call down the best blessing you can, 
 for I was never more in earnest. I promise you that if 
 Grundle does not come back to take possession of these 
 things they shall become your property. Now, don't stop 
 to thank me," as the Irishman began to give vent to loud 
 exclamations of gratitude, " but just show your thankful 
 ness by harnessing the horse as fast as you can." 
 
 "Blur an' agers!" cried Pat, rushing into the stall and 
 bringing the animal out with a jerk that made him snort 
 and rear; "it's hum-in' I'll be doin' fasther nor a man wid 
 two bumble-bees in his shoes. Oil, it's light me he:irt is 
 
 9 O 
 
 now, wid that joyous promise ye made me. Throth, yer 
 words raise the cockles o' me heart loike a moighty dhram 
 o' the rale crathur. Hould there, ye baste!' 7 as the horse 
 protested against this unusual haste by sundry snaps at 
 Patrick's head as he was darting around and under him. 
 " Where's the sinse o' ye takin' me head for a bundle o' 
 hay? Troth, can't ye see the masther's in great haste? 
 Here, ye omadhaun ! git over there while I clap the wagon 
 behind ye. Tare alive, ye are as stiff in the legs this 
 morn in' as a miser's list, so ye are, ye vajrabone! There, 
 Masther Yolney !" putting the reins in the young man's 
 hand, while the perspiration streamed down his o-.vn ex 
 cited lace. " Wasn't it quick I wor doin' the job? Be- 
 dad, it's not faster I could work wor I goin' to clhrive to
 
 EXPLANATIONS FOR A PURPOSE. 351 
 
 me own weddin' this blissid clay wid that comely lump o' 
 a girl waitin' for me in the church beyant." 
 
 " Let us hope her wedding-day will soon come," said 
 Volney, jumping into the wagon and seating himself, 
 "and I am sure it will, if the possession of that heap of 
 furniture can hasten it. Indeed, you can consider yourself 
 the owner of those goods now. For mark my word, Pat 
 the miser will never be seen again in these parts." 
 
 " May kind Heaven keep him miles out o' this !" ejac 
 ulated the Irishman with a momentary upward look of his 
 serious face as the wagon slowly moved away. " It's not 
 wishin' harrum to iny o' God's own crathurs I'd be doin', 
 but, J pon- me sowl, it's nivir havin' sore eyes I'd be, gazin' 
 after owld Gruntle. It's not dead I'd be wantin' him, but 
 long* and hearty, shure, would I dhrink at his wake to- 
 morry." 
 
 " Oh, here, Pat !" called Volney, halting as the vehicle 
 reached the threshold of the wide door, and turning to the 
 Irishman, who was standing with his gaze again riveted 
 upon the furniture. " I forgot to ask you if you have 
 seen anything of a strange man around here since I have 
 been gone. The young lady Emily says there has 
 been a mysterious man coming to her father's cottage of 
 late, and that she is sure he was there last night. Have 
 you heard of or seen any such person ?" 
 
 " A strange man is it, do ye say?" his eyes growing un 
 usually large and his mouth widely distended with well- 
 assumed wonder. " Is it a leprechaun the colleen is 
 talk in' about now? Whist!" suddenly dropping his 
 voice, shaking his finger in token of silence, and draw 
 ing on tip-toe nearer his companion, "where wor it she 
 saw him? Och, faix, if I could cum a crass him, it's 
 a big crockful of goold afore dusk I'd git from him, 
 shore !" 
 
 "What's a leprechaun?" asked Volney, laughing, in 
 spite of the man's serious face. 
 
 " itlusha avic! Did ye niver hear o' the inchanted 
 cobbler?" exclaimed Pat under his breath. "Troth, he's 
 the fairy that would give ye piles o' goold fur a ransom if 
 ye once lay yer tight grip on him. Sphake softly now. 
 He may be forninst ,us hereabouts," glancing cautiously
 
 352 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 around the barn. "Oh, bad 'cess to me luck! if I could 
 only clap me two eyes on him now, wid his red coat, and 
 breeches all covered wid goold lace, an' his little cocked 
 hat! Whist! be aisy now! It's findin' him I maybe 
 this very minnit." 
 
 He began to steal softly around the barn-floor, his 
 finger on his lips, peeping into the stalls and under 
 boxes and barrels and the various farming-implements. 
 
 " Well, it's evident yon can give me no information, so 
 go on hunting your leprechaun. Maybe he will make 
 you a prince of his realm before I return," said the young 
 man, driving away and leaving the Irishman still busily 
 engaged in his search. 
 
 When the vehicle had disappeared down the lane, 
 Doyle, who had been watching it over his shoulder 
 burst into a loud fit of laughter. 
 
 "Oh, Patrick, ye divil ye!" he exclaimed, seating him 
 self on. the chest and poking himself in the ribs as the 
 tears streamed from his eyes. " Slmre, it's desaivin' the 
 father o' lies ye could be doin' this mornin'. Indade, it's 
 the jewil o' a boy for thricks I am ! Oh my ! oh my ! 
 What a nate humbuggin' I gave Mashter Volney, shure, 
 wid talkin' o' the leprechaun, whin divil a fairy at all, at 
 all God bliss thim ! have I seen in all my life ! Och, 
 wirrasthru !" suddenly checking his merriment and throw 
 ing up his hands in disgust; " where, faix, is the memory 
 o' me? Shure, I forgot to till him to hurry off wid his 
 colleen this very day ! Oh, Patrick, ye are a born nat'ral 
 to forgit the same, whin Misthress Loyd laid sich sthrc-ss 
 on it. Troth, it's lost a foine breakfast ye have, whin ye 
 till her what an omadhaun ye wor. And, be jabers, it's 
 me ears that's achin' now fur the sound o' the atin'-bell ! 
 Well, well, well ! Since me mimorv bad 'cess to it! has 
 robbed me sthomach, it's feastin' me eyes in the mane 
 time I'll be doin' on this foine furnichure. Ah, me col 
 leen dims!" he exclaimed, his gaze fastened on the pile 
 with an anxious, greedy look; "pray wid all yer moight, 
 that owld Gruntle may niver lay his miserly eyes on these 
 same agin. For wid these same illigant things, our wed- 
 din'-day's nigh at hand as winter itself. An' it's me own 
 heart now that feels loike a lump o' shugar in me throat,
 
 DEVELOPMENTS. 353 
 
 fur tliinkin' o' that happy day Och hone ! it's meltin' 
 into wather me eyes are intirely !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 DE VEL OPMENTS. 
 
 WHEN Volney reached Nicholas Grundle's hut, he 
 found a large and excited crowd of villagers assem 
 bled. Me"n and boys, and here and there a female, all 
 loudly talking, were roaming through the house, peeping 
 into the windows, exploring the barn and searching with 
 curio'us eyes every nook and corner of the garden, save 
 that spot from which the grave kept them at a cautious 
 distance. Volney alighted from the wagon and walked 
 slowly up the path. The tumult of voices suddenly 
 ceased, and all eyes were turned on him. Significant nods 
 and suppressed exclamations, as the people gathered in 
 groups, told him that his movements were now the sole 
 object of their curiosity. 
 
 With a glance of recognition and a word of greeting to 
 the friendly faces that peered at him from all sides, he 
 entered the house. The first person that spoke to him 
 Mas Rader Craft, who was standing just within the thresh 
 old, holding in his hand his note-book, in which, with a 
 solemn face, he was slowly writing. 
 
 "Ah ! good-morning, my young friend !" said the law 
 yer with a benevolent smile as he warmly shook Volucy's 
 hand. " You find me in the line of my professional duty, 
 as usual. I am prosecuting investigations which will ter 
 minate, I am sanguine, in the successful unraveling of 
 this mysterious concatenation." 
 
 " What conclusions have you thus far reached ?" asked 
 Volney in a low voice, beckoning Craft aside from the 
 curious group that was already beginning to encircle 
 them. 
 
 " Friends," exclaimed the lawver, waving the people 
 back with a benignant smile as he motioned Volney to 
 the direction of the deserted wood-shed, "this case has
 
 354 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 now assumed a legal aspect. You will oblige me and 
 best subserve the interests of justice by allowing rny client 
 and myself an opportunity to converse and consult in 
 private." 
 
 Then, turning to Volney when they were alone in the 
 shed and he had closed the door upon the still prying eyes 
 of the villagers, the lawyer asked, 
 
 " Do I understand that with remarkable foresight you 
 have immediately retained my services in this important 
 case ?" 
 
 " Yes," was the ready answer ; " and for whatever ser 
 vices you render me, or those even more directly* interested 
 than myself, I shall be glad to pay you to the full extent 
 of my ability." 
 
 " Hem ! It will require considerable monetary disper 
 sion to prosecute the necessary inquiries in this case, omit 
 ting all mention of the legal acumen which must be 
 aroused -into ceaseless action and eternal vigilance if vic 
 tory is to be the resultant. Suppose," continued Craft, 
 smiling blandly and laying his hand with something of a 
 fatherly motion upon Volney's shoulder, "you agree that 
 my fee in this matter shall be in proportion to the property 
 recovered ?. If under fifty thousand dollars, ten per cent, 
 of the amount, after deducting all expenses from the prin 
 cipal ; if over fifty thousand, say twenty per cent." 
 
 " I do not understand," said the young man with a 
 puzzled face. " What property do you mean ?" 
 
 " Is it possible that your intelligence has not better 
 ramified the possibilities of this affair?" replied the law 
 yer with a touch of reproof in his kindly tones. " Then 
 niy revelations gathered this morning and confirmed by 
 my previous suspicions, legally adjusted, will prove to 
 you not only a surprise, but a harbinger of joy. For 
 tunes, when they come with love, are doubly blessed ;" 
 and his eyes glowed with a heavenly smile of appro 
 bation. 
 
 " Will you explain your meaning to me ?" said Volney, 
 somewhat impatiently. "Let us talk plainly. I have 
 had more than enough of mystery already this morning." 
 
 " Why need I longer delay ? Nor will I," said Craft 
 half aloud to himself as he opened his note-book and
 
 DEVELOPMENTS. 355 
 
 extended it, with the pencil, to his companion. "Here! 
 glance your eye over this memorandum agreement, which 
 I formulated in ' The Legal Refuge' in anticipation of this 
 very conversation. If you affix your signature to this 
 document, I will no longer hesitate to make you the 
 recipient of the important revelations of which I am the 
 sole possessor." 
 
 Volney read the agreement. It was as follows : 
 
 " I hereby agree that in case Rader Craft, Esq., attorney and coun- 
 sellor-at-law, of Slowville, Wyoming County, State of Pennsylvania, who 
 is employed by me for that express purpose, shall in any way, either 
 directly or indirectly, succeed in recovering the fortune to which a 
 young woman now resident in Slowville, and known under the name 
 of Emily Grundle, is entitled, then the said Kader Craft shall receive 
 as his compensation for his said services ten per cent, of the said re 
 covered fortune if it be fifty thousand dollars or less, and twenty per 
 cent, of said recovered fortune if it be more than fifty thousand 
 dollars." 
 
 " What does this mean ?" asked Volney after a pause, 
 glancing from the book to his companion with an expres 
 sion so dazed and confused that the lawyer added a trifle 
 more of blandness to his reassuring smile. 
 
 " Explanations will be forthcoming after you have 
 signed this paper," said Craft, extending his fountain-pen 
 in answer to the still questioning face, and pointing with 
 a little authoritative motion at the vacant space beneath 
 the document where were the letters " L. S." 
 
 " But suppose the young lady has a fortune of which 
 she is deprived for the present," said Volney, after he had 
 read the agreement more slowly a second time; "what 
 right have I, legally or otherwise, to promise you any 
 portion of it for its recovery ?" 
 
 "Explanations will be forthcoming after your signature 
 is thereto affixed," was the reply, and the bland smile 
 deepened with a suggestion of valuable information that 
 was with difficulty suppressed. 
 
 " I still maintain the uselessness of my signature in 
 this connection," slowly rejoined Volney ; but as he saw 
 how the lawyer's face gleamed with a hidden meaning he 
 added, " However, as there seems to be no other way for 
 me to gain the important information of which you are 
 evidently possessed, I will sign my name. There it is !"
 
 356 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 rapidly writing his signature and handing back the book. 
 " Now oblige me by no further delay." 
 
 " One moment. We need a couple of witnesses to 
 make this document a legal instrument/' said the lawyer, 
 stepping to the door and calling in two villagers, who, in 
 response to his directions, wrote their names on the left of 
 the young man's signature, while the lawyer's broad palm 
 covered the agreement from their curious eyes. 
 
 " Now that the preliminaries are so admirably arranged," 
 resumed Craft after the witnesses had reluctantly with 
 drawn, "we will proceed to the further elucidation of our 
 arrangements. I shall not enter into detail nor burden 
 your memory with minutiae," he continued, significantly 
 tapping the open palm of his left hand with his right 
 forefinger. "It is sufficient for our purpose that you 
 should be put in possession of the main facts only of this 
 exceedingly intricate case. Nor will it be of anv advan 
 tage for you to know by what process of ratiocination, or 
 how, aided by legal methods of observation, I have 
 arrived at the particular conclusions which bear so 
 weightily upon the successful issue of this affair. Let us 
 plunge in medias res into the midst of affairs. Primo 
 in the first place: Emily Grundle is an. heiress; I am as 
 confident of the truth of this affirmation as I am of fhe 
 consciousness of my own identity. Secundo in the sec 
 ond place : the singular life which has been imposed upon 
 her by that old man who purported to be her father was 
 only in strict accordance with the scheme to defraud her 
 of her inheritance. Tcrtio in the third place : the events 
 of last night namely, the disappearance of this old man 
 in company with his mysterious companion is the culmi 
 nation of the aforesaid scheme. The time for possessing 
 themselves of her fortune having arrived, these two mer 
 cenary despoilers of an orphaned maiden departed in the 
 dead of night to complete the final act in this gigantic 
 scheme of robbery." 
 
 The lawyer paused, looked inexpressibly solemn and 
 blew a loud blast upon his handkerchief. He kept his 
 eyes upon Volney's face for the space of a minute, and 
 then asked in a low, grave voice, 
 
 " Do you apprehend, my young friend, the remarkable
 
 DEVELOPMENTS. 357 
 
 concurrence of these various circumstances, pointing to 
 but one legitimate inference a defrauded heiress ?" 
 
 "There is no doubt about her life being involved in 
 some mystery/' replied the listener, his look of astonish 
 ment slowly giving way to a thoughtful expression. "I 
 never could believe that Nicholas Grundle was her father. 
 Your solution of the case is indeed a surprise to me. Yet 
 it is not improbable, especially since you assert that what 
 you have said are facts, and not inferences. Well, grant 
 ing your view of the case to be the correct one, what is to 
 be done? AVe certainly ought to act promptly." 
 
 " A very correct as well as instantaneous apprehension 
 of our "duty !" exclaimed Craft, rubbing his hands glee 
 fully, while his face rippled all over with approving 
 smiles. " I was fearful you might hesitate in reference 
 to my immediate action ; but such not being the case, I 
 shall now acquaint you with my plan of procedure, with 
 no doubt as to its instant approval and your hearty co 
 operation." 
 
 " Whatever duty falls to me in righting this wrong, you 
 will find me quickly and willingly performing it," said 
 Volney, his countenance kindling with enthusiastic de 
 termination. 
 
 "Noble coadjutor of justice !" cried the lawyer, gazing 
 at him with an admiring glance. " Your words ring in 
 my ears like the bugle-blast of truth. Glorious! glori 
 ous ! They presage victory, like the Spartan cry of old. 
 Let us, then, delay not, but advance to the field of action." 
 I have revealed to you three main facts ; now I submit 
 for your adoption three main duties arising from those 
 aforesaid facts. Primo : you must take Emily Grundle 
 away from Slowville this very night ; seoundo : you must 
 marry her a duty that will doubtless prove a pleasure ; 
 tciiio: you must keep her in strict seclusion somewhere 
 until we have discovered these villains and her appearance 
 becomes necessary to convict them and regain her property. 
 Tins, in brief, is your duty ; the detective and legal por 
 tion of the case shall be mine. Now, do not object, for in 
 no other way can our success be assured." 
 
 Volney was already pacing the floor with a troubled 
 face, slowly repeating to himself what the lawyer had
 
 358 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 said. Strange it was, he thought, that this suggestion of 
 marrying Emily so coincided with his own secret deter 
 mination, which had been growing stronger as every mo 
 ment of the morning had passed by. A new element had 
 entered into the case, and it was this that disturbed him 
 now. Emily, the lawyer had told him, was an heiress. 
 If lie should marry her in this clandestine way, would 
 it not be said that, taking advantage of her ignorance of 
 her true circumstances, he had made her his wife solely to 
 possess himself of her money ? His sensitive soul rebel 
 led at this suggestion, and he uneasily walked about in 
 silence. 
 
 " I see you hesitate about marrying the maiden for fear 
 your motives might be misconstrued," said the lawyer, 
 coming up to him. The young man nodded assent to his 
 words ; and laying his hand upon Volney's shoulder, 
 Craft continued : " Why, when your happiness and hers 
 is at stake, should you care what the world might say ? 
 Our best actions are many times misconstrued. The 
 world's censure is as often misplaced as its praise. 
 Come ! let us discuss the plan more in detail, for its 
 success depends chiefly upon your marriage with Emily. 
 "Unless you are her husband, you have no legal right to 
 act for her. Simply as a friend you cannot protect her 
 from the further machinations of these scoundrels, or suc 
 cessfully aid her in regaining her property when we have 
 discovered it. One of these men is her lawful guardian, 
 who may yet, failing in some way to gain possession of 
 her fortune, return to claim his guardianship over her. 
 As your wife she w r ould be safe from their clutches, no 
 matter what might be their evil designs. As her hus 
 band you would be her natural and lawful protector." 
 
 Thus the lawyer went on with his argument, so ingeni 
 ously piling up reason upon reason, and ever keeping in 
 the foreground the imminent peril to which Emily, un 
 married, was subjected, that his listener gradually yielded 
 all objection to the plan, and at last consented to adopt it. 
 
 "Secrecy is an invaluable element toward our success. 
 Do not tell even your mother of this conversation," said 
 Craft as Volney made known to him his intention of going 
 to Philadelphia with Emily. " It is best that you should
 
 DE VEL OPMENTS. 359 
 
 instantly return home and prepare for your departure this 
 very night on the midnight train. You can find out 
 nothing more at the village concerning these strange cir 
 cumstances than I have already told you, except that the 
 old man and his dog went eastward on a freight-train last 
 night. Nothing has been seen of the stranger who was 
 thought to be the miser's companion. Leave the finding 
 of them both to me. I shall communicate progress to you. 
 Let me see : what address did you say ? Ah ! I have 
 it here/' referring to his note-book. "'Care of William 
 Marsh, Manayunk.' Well, good-bye, my son! God bless 
 you ! May the happiness of your married life be com 
 mensurate with your merits, and sweet as the lovely face 
 of your adorable companion !" 
 
 They parted. Volney rode back home with a heart far 
 lighter than he had borne when he came away. Yes, he 
 would marry the girl, whatever the world might say. 
 AV T hat other reason was there that he should not? Had 
 not Aziel too suggested this very course to him? Ah! 
 what else could he do to save Emily from cruelty and 
 injustice, that without his protecting arm might yet doom 
 her to a life of further misery. Poor, dear Emily ! She 
 had no one but himself to look to now for care and love 
 and sympathy. But would she marry him so soon to 
 morrow, perhaps? He drew a long sigh as he asked him 
 self this question ; then, after a moment's thought, a little 
 smile of triumph lighted up his face. He had not the 
 slightest doubt that she would marry him, no matter when 
 or how or where he might wish her to. 
 
 Nor would the most skeptical in such affairs have had 
 any doubt of the girl's reply had sitch a one this very 
 night looked in upon these two, seated so closely together 
 in the railroad-car that bore them toward the great city 
 with a rush and whir and grim rattle that never once dis 
 turbed the sweet rhythm of their loving thoughts. Ob 
 livious of all surroundings, thinking only of each other, 
 and conscious of no other presence save their own, they 
 were talking in murmuring, happy tones. They were hap 
 piest of the happy full of life and hope. Her head lay 
 nestling on his shoulder and his arm was about her with a 
 tender clasp, that now and then pressed her form more
 
 360 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 closely as he joyfully thought how wholly dependent she 
 was upon his protection and guidance. 
 
 The dim light of the overhanging lamp shone down in 
 dull contrast upon their faces, so illumined with the trans 
 port of unrestrained love. She was indeed very happy, be- 
 cau^e her lover had promised again and again that she should 
 see her father very soon. And until she should rejoin her 
 parent, Volney besought her to love himself as dearly as 
 she could, for her father would never again separate them. 
 So loving him she was, not only dearly, but with every 
 little fibre of her heart, that fluttered with unspeakable joy 
 as she nestled still closer beneath his fondling caress. And 
 he ? Ah ! he had never dreamed, even in love's most ec 
 static visions, of such happiness as this. She was his all 
 his- now and for ever. Even when she should be his wile 
 in name, as she was now in every thought and feeling, he 
 was sure he could not love her more devoutly or become 
 more enraptured by her presence. Then, with just the 
 trifle of a sigh, he remembered that as yet lie had not been 
 able to muster the courage to tell her of his plan for their 
 being married on the morrow. How should he tell her, 
 and when could he best introduce the subject? Had he not 
 already deferred this important question too long, and was 
 it not growing the more formidable the longer lie delayed 
 it? With a dash of resolution he tried to speak. Some 
 how, his voice failed him. He felt the arm that encircled 
 her suddenly trembling with a nervousness he could not 
 control. He knew that an uneasy look of doubt and hesi 
 tation had already crept into his face. 
 
 Just then her hand stirred gently on his shoulder. Her 
 eyes looked softly up at him with a glance full of ten 
 derness and trust. Putting her little hand confidingly 
 in his own trembling palm, she asked in a murmur that 
 thrilled him with its loving tones, 
 
 "Are you not very happy so very, very happy with 
 me?" 
 
 "So happy that I cannot tell you of it all," he whis 
 pered in reply, stealing a soft kiss from her forehead in 
 the flickering light. "Oh, if you were only my wife," 
 he went on, as her eyes glistened with joy at his answer, 
 " I should be the happiest man in all the world !"
 
 DEVELOPMENTS. 361 
 
 " Cannot I be your wife whenever you want me to ?" 
 she asked with a look of wonder on her innocent, ques 
 tioning face. 
 
 With a smile of mingled love and triumph for answer, 
 he pressed her closer to him. His lips gently touched her 
 cheek as he murmured, 
 
 " Dear, dear Emily ! you are all mine now all mine, 
 my precious little wife !" 
 
 Onward whirled the train, with these two happy hearts 
 neither knowing nor caring that the midnight hour had 
 long since passed. 
 
 But there was one passenger among all the sleeping 
 occupants'of the car who had been an interested eye-wit 
 ness of this love-making scene a young man with a 
 bird-cage at his side, who sat half a dozen seats in front 
 of the lovers, on the other side of the aisle. He was ap 
 parently asleep. His slouched hat was drawn far over 
 his face, while his head seemed buried in his arm, which 
 Avas resting negligently on the back of his seat. Yet the 
 eyes of this passenger, bright and peering as ever they 
 were in broad daylight, had been fastened upon the lovers 
 ever since they entered the car. His eyes had noted every 
 movement of the young couple, and with wonderful in 
 tuition he interpreted their conduct aright ; for now, as 
 the lovers sank into slumber with a parting kiss, his 
 watchful gaze was slowly withdrawn, his head turned 
 away, and over his face there came an odd and cunning 
 smile. 
 
 "The die is cast," he mentally ejaculated. "Scriptu- 
 rally speaking, these two shall be one flesh before to-mor 
 row's sun hath reached its zenith, or William Dibb.s is a 
 better manipulator of the reviving fluid than he is a prog- 
 nosticator of the immediate issue of such tender demon 
 strations. Well," he continued after a melancholy review 
 of his unfortunate attachment for Aziel Loyd, " may 
 Heaven speed them on their nuptial way, and may the 
 bitter gall of regret never mingle with the sweet honey 
 of their love ! As for myself, when this wounded heart 
 has sufficiently recovered from its present bereavement to 
 relocate its affections, I shall try to apprehend a younger 
 and more susceptible maiden than Aziel, who shall mean- 
 si
 
 362 AS IT .MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 while remain the shrouded and sainted idol of my inmost 
 soul." 
 
 \Vith a brief glance of benediction at the sleeping 
 lovers, Dibbs curled himself up in his seat and tried to 
 sleep. But his own projects now began to dance about in 
 his brain with anything but a composing motion, and 
 he grew wider awake in his efforts to dismiss them. 
 
 "Avaunt, ye disturbers of rest !" he muttered, violently 
 rubbing his head. " Knowest thou not that my cerebral 
 activity must be preserved in statu quo for the morning? 
 Cease, then, to absorb the nervous tissues of my brain 
 anv longer !" 
 
 With another effort at composure he glanced at Spike, 
 already dozing on his perch, and closed his eyes. A mo 
 ment later he was slowly counting, one by one, the Cus 
 tomers as they filed in long array into his new saloon and 
 each dropped a piece of money in the till ; and thus he 
 fell asleep. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 NEW CHARACTERS, AND OLD ONES. 
 
 TjWERYBODY in the neighborhood, from the decrepit 
 JLJ old man down to the latest toddling child, knew Mrs. 
 Sterrit. Why should they not all not only know her, but 
 love her as they did, when, of all the people living in this 
 locality, she alone had a cheering word and a kind smile 
 for every one she met in her little rounds of marketing 
 and visiting the poor? Yet every one, not excepting the 
 blind man who so often ground his organ in front of her 
 door, saw that her smile had a trace of sadness in it, like 
 the shadowed lines in a brilliant picture. Her voice, too, 
 was tinged with a trifle of melancholy even in its happiest 
 tones, as if it were ever echoing some tender refrain of 
 a sacred secret sorrow. Whatever was the hidden grief 
 of " the dear little soul " that was what everybody called 
 her she had never once alluded to it, even to those who 
 had longest known her. Once, and only once, had her
 
 NEW CHARACTERS, AND OLD ONES. 363 
 
 next-door neighbor, when in an unusual state of sympa 
 thetic and curious excitation, sought to share some portion 
 of this secret, which had for so many years been the chief 
 subject of the neighborhood's speculation and gossip. In 
 answer, Mrs. Sterrit quietly wiped away the little gush of 
 tears which the question had evoked, and said, as she 
 gratefully pressed the woman's hand, 
 
 "It is better that I should not tell. God's ways are 
 not as our ways, nor His thoughts as our thoughts. If 
 some day He shall reveal it, as I am sure He will," with 
 an upward glance of fervent faith that made her features 
 glow with an angelic trust, "then you shall know the 
 heavy load' of sorrow I have carried here these many 
 years," laying her hand upon her heart, "yet carrying 
 it always, I hope, with my faith growing stronger every 
 day that He does indeed do all things well. Ah ! we 
 poor simple creatures find it very hard at times to 
 submit to His will, and to kiss the hand that chastens 
 us ; vet this is life's best and dearest lesson, hard though 
 it be." 
 
 This afternoon the early twilight of the autumnal day 
 was settling down upon the city. Mrs. Sterrit was seated 
 beside the window in her little quaint rocker, with the 
 Venetian blinds turned aslant, throwing the fast-departing 
 rays of light upon the open book that lay in her lap. 
 She had always sat here at this hour these many years, 
 reading this book. She would often stop in its perusal, 
 and closing her eyes meditate a while, her folded hands 
 resting upon the printed page as if clasped in prayer. 
 
 "'Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is 
 stayed on Thee, because he trustcth in Thee. Trust ye in 
 the Lord for ever ; for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting 
 strength.' " 
 
 These words now trembled upon her lips. Something 
 in this divine message seemed to suddenly awaken the 
 strongest emotions of her soul, for the response that 
 came to her voiceless lips was a long, weary sigh that, 
 welling up from her heart's depths of sadness, at last 
 filled her eyes with blinding tears. Fainter and fainter 
 grew the lines of the sacred book. Yet softly she again 
 breathed out the divine exhortation as she drew the vol-
 
 364 AS IT MAY IIAPPKX. 
 
 ume closer with a caressing motion and leaned over the 
 precious page. 
 
 "Blessed words !" she murmured, the tears falling upon 
 them with a baptism of gratitude. " All ! they never 
 fail to comfort me, though they will bring to my mind 
 so strongly the long, long years I have been waiting, 
 waiting, waiting!" 
 
 Kissing the lines she had read, she closed the book ten 
 derly. Her clasped hands rested softly upon the volume. 
 Her drooping head gradually fell upon her bosom. On 
 her silver locks a parting ray of sunlight rested like a 
 tender touch of Heaven's own invisible hand. 
 
 Far away, back through the years that had passed so 
 slowly, her thoughts went with the speed of love's unerr 
 ing memory. Now was vivid as the awful day it hap 
 pened the one great sorrow of her soul with which- Heaven 
 had then beclouded her happy life. In one brief moment 
 had been taken from her all that her heart held sacred. 
 AVithout a word of warning the dearest and most blessed 
 ties of her existence had been severed. Yet improbable 
 as it seemed because of the lapse of years that these 1 treas 
 ures would ever be hers again, or that those ties would be 
 reunited in this world, she had never once lost faith in 
 such a belief. Like a vestal lamp this hope had burned 
 with a bright unceasing flame in her darkened heart. 
 Never brighter were its beams than now, as she turned 
 from the terrible scene which memory had pictured with 
 such pitiless completeness, and breathed again her ever- 
 present prayer of faith and hope. 
 
 "Gig, Gog, Gagger!" exclaimed a young female voice, 
 bursting in upon the solemnity of this scene. " I never 
 seed such a crabbed man ! I wish I had a-died afore he 
 came to this house. But I'll spill him on the floor yet, 
 the old vinegar-cruet !" 
 
 The speaker was a girl or more nearly a woman of 
 robust and good-proportioned figure, that looked well 
 despite her plain and slovenly attire. Her red hair hung 
 down behind her in two long braids, while a row of dirty 
 curl-papers decorated her well-shaped forehead. Her 
 short dress, with here and there a rent, disclosed a pair of 
 untied shoes down at the heels. Her arms, bare to the
 
 CHARACTERS, AND OLD ONES. 365 
 
 elbows, were violently gesticulating. Her large eyes were 
 glaring with vindictiveness, while her unusually white 
 teeth gleamed through her angrily-parted lips. 
 
 "Charity, my child," said Mrs. Sterrit, quietly turning 
 to the girl and putting out her hand with a little reprov 
 ing gesture, " why do you allow your passion to get the 
 better of you? Don't you know that we submit our 
 selves to one of our worst enemies when we give way to 
 our anger?" 
 
 " No, I don't," stoutly rejoined the girl, her shaking 
 head keeping time with her wrathful arms. "I believe 
 in getting mad, I do. Who's to take your part, if you 
 don't take if yourself? Oh yes ; I know all you're going 
 to say about my being a woman, and all that. But 
 what's 'being a woman got to do against my standing up 
 for my rights, I should like to know? I wish I were 
 a man ; I would punch him in the eye, so I would. 
 And I've a good mind to, anyhow, the old heathen !" 
 shaking her fist in the direction of the room above. 
 
 While Charity had been speaking, Mrs. Sterrit had 
 risen from her chair and gently approached her. She 
 laid her hand soothingly upon the girl's shoulder, and 
 said, with a little mournful shake of her head, 
 
 " Charity, my dear child, it grieves me very much to 
 hear you talk in this way." 
 
 " Does it, though ?" cried Charity, wrenching herself 
 away. " Well, it does me good, so it does. What's a 
 person's tongue worth if you can't blab out what you 
 mean, once in a while? Gingo Csesar ! I never was mad 
 der !" she continued, clenching her fists and gritting her 
 teeth. "Oh, if I only had hold of him now, I would 
 make his bones crack, or I'm no orphan !" 
 
 " Charity, Charity !" was the mild exclamation of the 
 little woman as she looked beseechingly at her. "Don't 
 use such dreadful language. Won't you be quiet ? Please 
 do ! Tell me now what has made you so angry. You know 
 I would not willingly let anybody impose on you. You are 
 all I have to love in this world, Charity, my dear!" put 
 ting her hand with an affectionate gesture upon the other's 
 arm. 
 
 "Now, don't talk and look that way, Mrs. Sterrit," said
 
 366 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 Charity, somewhat mollified as the old lady continued her 
 demonstrations of affection. "If you do, you'll drive all 
 the mad out of me. And I want to keep it, I do. It 
 kind of makes me feel good, so it does. You never 
 kmnved, I guess, what a real comfort it is to get your 
 Dutch up when people is imposing on you. Dear me ! I 
 wouldn't have your soft heart if you could give it to me 
 this minute. It would just make me miserable, so it would. 
 Getting mad is the only luxury I have. Indeed, I'd sooner 
 die than not be able to get mad with those that abuses me. 
 I wish I was dead now, so I do. Who cares for me? I'm 
 nothing but an orphan, anyhow. Orphans gets no show in 
 this world. I hopes they'll get some one to use them right 
 in the next world. Oh dear! oh dear! I wish 1 was 
 riding in a hearse, I do. It's the only chance I'll get to 
 ride in a carriage, unless I marries a rich man. But 
 there's no show for me to get married. No fellow wants 
 to marry an orphan that's got no money !" 
 
 Here she began to cry as passionately as she had before 
 been giving way to her anger. Mrs. Sterrit put her arm 
 around the girl's neck and drew her unresisting head down 
 upon her shoulder. Caressingly patting the tear-streaming 
 cheek, she said, 
 
 " Charity, my dear, do you remember the day I first 
 brought you here? It will be just twelve years ago next 
 Saturday since I led you in yonder door, a dear, sweet 
 child. I can see you now," her tremulous voice somewhat 
 recovering itself, "staring around the room with your little 
 look of wonder and pleasure as you asked me whether I 
 was going to be your mother and make this your home. 
 Did I not fold you in my arms and kiss you, Charity, and 
 say then, as I do now, that this was not only to be your 
 home, but that I would try to love and care for you as 
 your own dear dead parents would have done? Oh, 
 Charity, I have loved you far, far more than you can 
 ever know. Yes, I have tried to keep my promise; I 
 have done my duty by you as God has given me the 
 ability. I did not think I should ever live to hear you 
 say that I do not love and care for you !" 
 
 " Oh, please don't cry ! I didn't mean that !" quickly 
 replied Charity in a tone as sympathetic as that of her
 
 NEW CHARACTERS, AND OLD ONES. 367 
 
 mistress, throwing her arms around Mrs. Sterrit and 
 wiping the tears away from the old lady's eyes with the 
 cleanest corner of her own soiled apron. "You have been 
 the dearest mother to me, so you have. I don't deserve it, 
 neither, I don't. Oh dear ! oh dear ! I was trying to be 
 so good before that old curmudgeon came here. Why, I 
 hadn't said one of those bad words, as you call them, for 
 three whole days, and I wasn't mad for a week. But ever 
 since he has been in the house he's riled me up so that I've 
 been dancing around all day like a drop of water in a red- 
 hot skillet," 
 
 " True too true. Mr. Gagger's disposition is a very 
 excitable one," said Mrs. Sterrit as the girl stood silent 
 and evidently tried to control the feelings which these last 
 words had aroused. " But, Charity dear, you will be better 
 able to bear with him if you will only remember that he 
 is an old man. Besides, he is afflicted just now with the 
 gout a very painful and irritating disease. And I judge, 
 from what his nephew Silas says, he is worried, too, by 
 some recent domestic trouble. Ah, Charity ! we would 
 all make greater allowances for people's shortcomings could 
 we know their secret sorrows and trouble." 
 
 " I wish he had paralytics instead of gout," rejoined 
 Charity with a malicious gleam in her eyes. " Then I 
 wouldn't get half so mad at him. He couldn't throw his 
 cane at me then, as he did just now. But I was too quick 
 for him. I dodged the cane ; indeed did I ! It flew against 
 the looking-glass and smashed it all to pieces. Then it 
 bounded back like a base- ball, and struck him on his 
 gouty foot. Oh, you ought to have heard him roar and 
 cuss ! It was better than a menagerie, so it was." 
 
 The girl, despite the old lady's mild remonstrance, gave 
 a rapid and gleeful representation of the scene, imitating 
 the voice and manner of Silas Gagger to such perfection 
 that her companion could not repress a smile, for which 
 her heart chidingly reproached her, for all the "tenderness 
 of a true woman was in her heart. 
 
 " Poor old soul !" resumed Mrs. Sterrit with a look of 
 deepest sympathy. " How I pity him, being forced to 
 make his home with strangers ! Ah ! an old man all 
 alone in the world has indeed a miserable lot. An old
 
 368 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 woman always finds a home or friends somewhere, but 
 who cares for an old man?" 
 
 " I never saw such a woman for loving old men as you 
 are," said Charity, half soliloquizing. " It's very strange, 
 so it is. I believe you would sooner see an old man go 
 by this house than a procession of real kings a mile long. 
 Oh," excitedly throwing up her hands, " I must not for 
 get to tell you. There was the funniest-looking old man 
 went by our alley-gate just afore I came in. It was while 
 you was reading your Bible." 
 
 " How did he look ? How old was he ?" suddenly asked 
 Mrs. Sterrit, a tremor in her voice and a startled look, 
 half questioning, half hopeful, in her eyes, though she 
 strove to conceal her agitation. 
 
 Strange that this excitement always came upon her 
 when she saw an old man in the streets or heard that 
 one had passed near the house unobserved by her. 
 
 " Well," continued Charity with a long breath as she 
 smoothed her apron and tried to look as important as the 
 relation she was about to make, " he was the queerest old 
 man I ever seen. I'll tell you just how I saw him. I 
 was down at our back gate talking with Lanty Joy. 
 Lanty, you know, is the boy that tends bar over at the 
 Golden Bowl. He was going home to his supper. ' What's 
 the news, Lantv?' says I ; and says he, 'Lots ! I'm going 
 to have a new boss to-morrow. The cops are layin' for 
 Billy the Cleaver, and he's got to light out or he'll be 
 jugged.' 'Who's the new boss?' said I. ' A feller from 
 the country/ says he. 'I seen a telagrip from him to my 
 old boss to-day.' ' What was in the telagrip ?' says I. 
 1 Hold Golden Bowl forme. Will buy. Starr to-night. 
 William Dibbs,' says he" 
 
 " But the old man, Charity dear? Please do not be so 
 long, but tell me about him," interrupted Mrs. Sterrit, 
 putting out her hands with just the trifle of an impatient 
 gesture. 
 
 " Well," another long breath and a loud smack of the 
 lips, "I'm coining to him now. Lanty soon ran off home, 
 and was turning the corner when I looked down the alley 
 and saw an old man and a savage-looking dog sneaking 
 up this way. So I just closed the gate and put my eye to
 
 NEW CHARACTERS, AND OLD ONES. 369 
 
 a knothole in the fence and watched them. Would you 
 believe it? By and by the old man and his dog came 
 alorjg and sat right down on the sidewalk, almost under 
 my very nose. There was only the fence between us, so I 
 could hear every word he said. It was an awful queer 
 lot of gab. He was whispering and talking low, kind of 
 simple-like, to the dog." 
 
 " Poor soul ! His mind is probably weak with age and 
 suffering. What did he say ?" The old lady's voice wan 
 very husky and there were tears in her eyes. 
 
 " Why, it was the queerest talk I ever heard. The 
 dog, though, acted as if he understood every bit of it, 
 which was more than I did. I can't remember it all, 
 the old man whispered so, and his voice was so shrill and 
 cracked like. It was something like this he said : ' Yes, 
 yes, Csesar ! we are on their track. Ah ! they won't get 
 away from us, will they ? You must watch every fn.ce, 
 Csesar; you must smell everybody. Your poor old 
 master is now blind, you know. Ha, ha! Blind ! blind ! 
 Here, Csesar, do you remember this ? Ah ! I know you 
 will look sharp for Emily.' Then he took a girl's shoe 
 from his pocket and rubbed it over the dog's nose, and 
 the dog licked the shoe and whined just as if he was 
 crying." 
 
 " Emily !" sighed the listener, whose attitude had been 
 one of intensest interest, holding on to the girl's arm 
 with a trembling grasp, her white face rapt in an eager 
 ness of expectation. " Poor old soul, he has lost his 
 child ! May God in His mercy soon bring her back to 
 him!" 
 
 " Another awful funny thing he did," resumed Charity. 
 " He kind of fondled the shoe for a while, and cried over 
 it just like a baby. Then he put it back in his pocket 
 and took out a piece of white rag. This he rubbed on 
 the dog's nose, saying something like this : l You remem 
 ber him, Cjcsar? Yes, you never did like him. So you 
 will find him sooner for that. You know, Csesar a tall 
 man with a black beard on his lips and chin.' I never 
 saw the beat of that dog! He just jumped right up like 
 he'd been shot. He grabbed that piece of cloth in his 
 mouth, and shook it and growled as if he was mad ; and 
 
 Y
 
 370 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 the old man laughed and patted him on the head, and 
 hugged him and hugged him. It was as much as he 
 could do to get the cloth away from the dog. At last he 
 did, and hid it in his pocket. Then he got up and hob- 
 bled away, with the dog in front of him, hitched to a 
 chain, and he holding onto it. He looked just like an 
 old blind man I once read of being led around by a dog." 
 
 " Was he a small man ? Had he a stoop in his shoul 
 ders? Did you see his face? Was it a small, thin face? 
 Were his eyes black ? Did he put his hands up to his 
 temples this way, as if they were aching him?" 
 
 These questions the old lady asked in such an excited, 
 half-frantic manner that the girl's own face took on a look 
 of amazement. 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Sterrit, what makes you look so white?" 
 exclaimed Charity. "The man can't be any relation of 
 yours, can he? I wish now I'd opened the gate and 
 looked after him, so I could tell you more about him, but 
 I was so awful afraid of that dog. I believe if he'd 
 known that I was listening to his master he would have 
 jumped clean over the fence and torn me into inch bits ; 
 indeed he would !" 
 
 Mrs. Sterrit had hurriedly taken her bonnet and shawl 
 from the little closet while the girl had been speaking. 
 Putting them on with nervous, rapid motions, she hastened 
 toward the door, saying to the girl in a voice agitated be 
 yond concealment, 
 
 " Charity, my dear, I must see this old man if I can. 
 Something tells me I must see him." 
 
 When the old lady had gone, and Charity saw her 
 form flit by the window in the direction the aged stranger 
 had taken, she sat down in a chair, and folding her hands 
 thus soliloquized : 
 
 "I wonder if she will ever get through hankering after 
 old men? This makes about the forty-'leventh thousand 
 she's run after, to my own knowledge. What in the world 
 docs she want of these old men, I should like to know? 
 I wonder if she wants to get married, and is trying to 
 take her pick of the lot? Oh dear! I wish I' was 
 married, I do. I wonder what kind of a fellow William 
 Dibbs is, that Lanty nays is going to buy out the Golden
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 371 
 
 Bowl ? Maybe he's a good chance for me. I'll lay for 
 him to-morrow; indeed will I! Perhaps Mr. Bibbs 
 might take a shine to me. I know of worse-looking girls 
 than I am," tossing her head with a saucy air, " that have 
 snapped up a fellow at first sight. Hello! There's old 
 curmudgeon pounding on the floor with his cane. Wants 
 his toast and tea. Good-bye, sweet William ! I'm going 
 for you to-morrow." 
 
 With a ringing laugh and a hop, skip and jump she 
 disappeared into the kitchen, and catching up a slice of 
 bread prepared to toast it, running the fork into it with 
 the muttered exclamation, " I wish you was old Gagger's 
 sore foot ;" indeed do I !" 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 
 
 " rn HOUGH haste doth not become a gentleman, let me 
 JL not linger longer amid the initiatory scenes of my 
 triumph !" exclaimed Dibbs under his breath as he leaped 
 from the car with his bird-cage and valise. His quick eyes 
 caught sight of the rear entrance to the d6pot. He cast a 
 parting look at Volneyand Emily, who were walking slowly 
 arm in arm toward the main door. Then he darted away 
 with an approving smile, and was soon hurrying along the 
 back streets, now and then glancing over his shoulders as 
 if he were expecting to be followed. He did not slacken 
 his rapid pace for some time. Although his main direction 
 was the same, he turned here and there, now to the right 
 and now to the left, threading his way wherever an alley 
 or arched passage or unfrequented street met his view. 
 All the while there was a gleam of mischief in his eyes 
 and a smothered smile upon his face. At last, after an 
 hour of this hasty zig-zag walking, which seemed to par 
 take wholly of the nature of a flight, he came to one of the 
 open squares of the city. Here he sought out an obscure 
 seat, and placing his valise and cage beside him thus de-
 
 372 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 liverecl himself, with many a laugh and gleeful rubbing of 
 his hands : 
 
 "William my boy, you have surpassed yourself! Your 
 native talent has this morning shone resplendent as yon 
 gorgeous luminary of the heavens. Your skillful manipu 
 lation of dubious currency was a stroke of financial genius 
 that, unrestrained, would extinguish even the national debt. 
 I wonder what impressions of your rural innocence pre 
 vail at present in the raging bosom of your turkey-friend? 
 Wanted to liquidate a little bill of sixty dollars with my 
 temporary assistance, did he? Well, did I not aid him 
 with that quick response to humanity's urgent call which 
 ever thrills my noble heart ? Did I not generously tender 
 him the loan of that one-hundred-dollar bill which I in 
 formed him with a husky voice a verv husky voice my 
 mother had bestowed upon me, with her parting prayer 
 for my success, when I had bid adieu to the old homestead 
 the night previous? How profuse his expressions of grati 
 tude ! How eagerly his hand clutched that sacred parental 
 gift ! How cheerfully his urgent creditor, with a compli 
 ment upon my mother's thoughtful generosity, returned me 
 the forty dollars of good money in change! 
 
 " Oh, Gunbridge & Co.!" he continued, the tears of 
 laughter running down his face; "had you witnessed this 
 transaction, you would have been amply repaid, I hope, for 
 your confidence in me a confidence, gentlemen, which will 
 never be confirmed by any pecuniary remittance on the 
 part of yours truly. Xo, gentlemen ; through my bene 
 ficent instrumentality, the ends of justice, impartial and 
 exacting, have been satisfied. You thought to swindle me, 
 but you yourselves have been victimized, and mv turkey- 
 friend, who believed he was about to pluck a barnyard- 
 fowl, as he did Volney Slade the other day, was himself 
 surreptitiously relieved of forty genuine dollars. Doubt 
 less ere this our turkey-friend is examining that parental 
 gift, so redolent of new-mown hay, with the philosophical 
 reflection that ' the way of the transgressor is hard.' Ha, 
 ha, Spike !" addressing the bird, who was knowingly blink 
 ing up at him ; " I see bv your complimentary wink that 
 you comprehend the situation. Yes, Spike, we have al 
 ready shown our ability to cope successfully with the com-
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 373 
 
 mercial in-egularities of the metropolis. But these forty 
 dollars thus deviously obtained, though in the cause of 
 retributive justice, I shall bestow upon the first poor 
 woman I meet, and thus, Spike, shall I make defeated 
 villainy serve a noble purpose namely, the relief of 
 wretched poverty's oft-despised call. 
 
 " But now to more important business," suddenly grow 
 ing serious and taking from his pocket-book a little slip 
 of printed paper. "There is much to be accomplished 
 to-day. Large demands will be made on my cerebral 
 activity. Well, let that transaction which is most im 
 portant lead the van of mine endeavor. First allow me 
 to observe" that no proverb has been more successfully 
 proved by mankind than that one feathered songster, 
 secure' in a person's five digits, is better than two such 
 inhabitants of the air hopping on a diminutive tree. 
 Guided by this proverbial truth, I shall first secure pos 
 session of this desirable saloon. This having been effected, 
 I shall immediately commence a series of investigations 
 which will undoubtedly reveal the whereabouts of the 
 miser as well as the hiding-place of that midnight ma 
 rauder, Seth Slacle." 
 
 Settling his roving, watchful eyes for a moment upon 
 the slip he held in his hand, he read it half aloud, com 
 menting as he went along : 
 
 "'For sale. The best drinking-corner in the city.' A 
 corner is a most desirable location for an imbibing establish 
 ment. A corner is conspicuous, accessible and inviting. 
 Even an individual already saturated with the elevating 
 fluid finds it extremely difficult to successfully resist the 
 fascinating beckonings of a corner. Swinging irresolutely 
 on the irregular periphery of his intoxicated locomotion, 
 he comes to a sudden standstill on a corner. Then, with 
 a firmer tread, he pushes through the hospitable door in 
 search of his final potation. Yes, a corner appeals strongly 
 to my comprehensive judgment. For without a proper 
 location one's business cannot expand to its most desirable 
 dimensions. ' A large and paying custom.' ' Large !' That 
 is susceptible of various interpretations, truthful and other 
 wise. 'Paying!' That is a good word of most excellent 
 meaning. It has the ring of true financial success. Of 
 
 32
 
 374 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 what avail is even a large custom in the accumulation of 
 wealth, unless it be a paying one? Xo, William my boy, 
 a man of large credits has small hopes, and smaller pros 
 pects. c Will be sold cheap to a quick and cash buyer.' 
 A bargain of t\vo terms, the latter of which I can readily 
 fulfill, but of the first I reserve to myself the sole judg 
 ment. Cheapness is a relative term, based solely upon 
 personal considerations. ' Immediate possession. Apply 
 at Golden Bowl, street, Philadelphia.' 
 
 " I shall instantly change that decidedly plebeian name," 
 said Dibbs, preparing to leave the Square. "It savors not 
 of a prudent respectability. It is too suggestive of inordi 
 nate imbibitions. Customers do not want reminders of their 
 little irregularities flaunted continually before their vision. 
 Moreover, outward concealment of the true character of 
 men's haunts is most desirable for matrimonial happiness. 
 Xo ! The exterior of William Dibbs' establishment shall 
 be so devoid of all suspicion of revelry that no Argus- 
 eved wife can penetrate its mysteries or proclaim with 
 clarion voice the methods of its business." 
 
 Thus revolving the subject in his mind, and deciding 
 on several details which he would adopt in the manage 
 ment of his projected undertaking, he hastened on his way. 
 Avoiding, as before, every main thoroughfare, and occa 
 sionally casting a cautious glance behind him, he came 
 at last in sight of the Golden Bowl. 
 
 As the advertisement had stated, this establishment stood 
 on a corner. It was a one-story brick structure, the corner 
 cut oft' by the generous entrance of swinging dottble doors. 
 There were no windows at the side, but in front was a large 
 bulk-window, its wood- work painted brilliantly in red. 
 In the centre of this window was the figure of a huge 
 golden bowl, the steam from whose hidden decoction was 
 issuing in a dense cloud, that rose above it in a perpendic 
 ular line to the height of several feet. On the apex of 
 this cloud two Cupids were sportively reaching after a con 
 cave line of golden letters above them that spelled "The 
 Golden Bowl." The remaining surface of the window was 
 filled with various glaringly-illuminated cards, setting 
 forth both the variety and desirability of the beverages 
 and viands to be found in the inner precincts.
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 375 
 
 With the prudence that was a natural reflex of his busi 
 ness sagacity, Dibbs entered a neighboring grocery bearing 
 a dull look upon his face. He inquired of a stalwart, 
 healthy and exceedingly vivacious female who stood be 
 hind the counter whether she could tell him why the 
 Golden Bowl was for sale. 
 
 " Of course I can ; and I ain't afraid to, neither," re 
 sponded the woman with energy, shaking her fist in the 
 direction of the saloon with an exultant motion. " The 
 perl ice is after that place red hot. Billy the Cleaver, as 
 he calls himself, has got to leave these parts right awav, 
 or be jugged. That's what's the matter. I'm mighty 
 glad he's 'got to the end of his rope, though. Such go 
 ings-on as there's been in that saloon lately is enough to 
 ruin 'this neighborhood. Men has been drugged and 
 robbed, and there's a fight going on 'most every night, 
 and the poor mill-hands is drinking up every cent of their 
 savings. Young man," leaning on the counter and look 
 ing at Dibbs with a face as solemn as her voice, " rum is 
 an awful cuss. It's the cause of most of the trouble 
 people has in this world " 
 
 " Madam," interrupted Dibbs with a respectful incli 
 nation of his head, while his face was illumined with a 
 bland, sympathetic smile, " theory and fact respond alike 
 to the truth of your eloquent sentiments. The continued 
 and inordinate gratification of any appetite invariably de 
 grades our moral nature, exhausts our physical vigor, and 
 eventually inevitably submerges our domestic joys in a 
 cataclysm of irretrievable destruction. It is impossible to 
 reconcile health, prosperity and happiness with intemper 
 ance. Here, most comprehensive female, allow me to thank 
 you for your valuable information as well as for your 
 moral reflections." 
 
 With a profound bow at the staring and wondering face 
 of the woman he hastily withdrew. Before she caught 
 sight of him again, although she had leaped the counter 
 and run to the door, he had disappeared within the Golden 
 Bowl. Here, setting his valise and cage upon the sanded 
 floor, he walked with a slouching motion np to the bar, be 
 hind which were two persons, a man and a boy. The boy's 
 lace was fresh, keen and active. With the agility of one
 
 376 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 of his age, he was cleaning glasses, polishing decanters 
 and bottles, and deftly arranging them upon the shelves 
 behind him. His eyes were all the while scanning the 
 new-comer, who by this time had ordered a lemonade and 
 was silently and with a knowing look sucking the same 
 through a straw. 
 
 The man was short, thickset and muscular. His round, 
 brutal head with cropped hair stood up defiantly upon 
 square, massive shoulders. His strong neck was bare, his 
 collarless shirt displaying every portion of its sinewy 
 surface. His rolled-up sleeves revealed arms that were 
 swelled and knotted with excessively-developed muscles, 
 while his broad chest gave evidence of vigorous vital 
 powers. Fixing his small vicious, bloodshot eyes on his 
 silent customer, whom he detected taking roving glances 
 around the room over his glass of lemonade, he asked, in a 
 menacing voice, 
 
 " What's your business here, any how ? You didn't 
 come in just to get a lemonade. Now, mind," bring 
 ing his fist down on the bar with a blow that made Dibbs' 
 empty glass dance, " if you're playin' the detective on me, 
 you'll go out of that door with the biggest mansard roof 
 on your head you ever had !" 
 
 " A superstructure of that character would not be de 
 sirable for my anatomical perfection," replied Dibbs 
 with a quiet smile as he laid a ten-cent note down on the 
 counter in payment for the beverage. " The object of my 
 appearance can soon be made apparent. Have I the honor, 
 as well as the pleasure, of addressing the proprietor of 
 this establishment, familiarly known in this locality as 
 Billy the Cleaver?" 
 
 " That's me," was the bold reply as the man squared 
 himself. "What do you want?" 
 
 " Simply to investigate the surroundings with a view 
 to purchase " 
 
 " He's the man that sent the telegraph," interrupted 
 the boy, whispering in the man's ear. 
 
 "Correct, my comprehensive lad," resumed Dibbs with 
 a complimentary nod to the youth ; then, addressing the 
 man : " I am Mr. William Dibbs, the author of the tele 
 graphic communication you received yesterday."
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 377 
 
 "Eh? Well, I'm glad to see you, Mr. Dibbs !" ex 
 claimed the Cleaver with a conciliatory laugh, reaching 
 over the bar and catching Dibbs' hand in a grip that 
 made him wince with pain. "That's a bunch of fives 
 that never yet went back on a gentleman. So you've 
 come to buy me out, have you ? All right ! If you're 
 in dead earnest, it's a business we can soon settle," coming 
 from behind the bar. " Look around for yourself, and 
 make me an offer. If it comes near my figure, the ranche 
 is yours." 
 
 " Not much stock on hand," commented Dibbs, coming 
 down to simple phraseology and taking on an air of busi 
 ness as he "went behind the bar and more closely surveyed 
 the shelves. " Good many empty bottles. Make a fine 
 show/ though. Demijohns not very full," touching with 
 his foot several of these articles stowed under the counter. 
 " What have you got in the cellar?" 
 
 " A keg of ale and a barrel of whiskey," replied the 
 man, slyly winking at the boy. "No use of carrying a 
 big stock." 
 
 " Both full ?" asked Dibbs, his back turned, and appar 
 ently engaged in examining the large mirror that hung 
 behind the bar ; yet by the aid of this glass his eyes were 
 all the while covertly fixed on the man and the boy. 
 
 " Yes ; they haven't been touched yet," answered the 
 Cleaver with a threatening look at the boy. 
 
 " Yes, they're full," quickly spoke up the lad. 
 
 " Pretty good looking-glass a wide mark for a beer- 
 mug," said Dibbs, coming again in front of the bar. 
 
 He slowly made a circuit of the room, glancing at the 
 pictures on the walls and counting the tables and chairs 
 ranged on both sides, which, with several spittoons, com 
 pleted the furnishing of the apartment. 
 
 "Ah ! what's this?" opening a door in the rear, which dis 
 closed a small room partitioned off from the main saloon. 
 
 " That's for gentlemen customers, where they can have 
 a quiet little game and a social glass. We've lots of them 
 sly customers. Eh, Lanty ?" said the Cleaver, scowling 
 at the lad. 
 
 "Yes; lots of 'em," instantly echoed the youth. 
 
 " Well, I guess I've looked around enough," drawled 
 
 32*
 
 378 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 Dibbs, leisurely seating himself on one of the tables and 
 turning upon the man a very indifferent face. "Suppose 
 we come down to dots and talk business. I've got to 
 give the refusal of several other places in less than an 
 hour. I don't think," he went on, reflectively watching 
 his slowly-swinging legs, " that I like the situation of 
 any of them much better than that of this place, but 
 their stocks are a great deal larger and they are for sale 
 very cheap, which is a good thing for my small amount 
 of cash. What's the rent of this place?" addressing the 
 man, who was already eyeing him with a disappointed 
 expression. 
 
 "Only thirty dollars a month." 
 
 " Whew ! A big rent for these hard times. Landlord 
 must be a shark. Why, I just saw a saloon a little larger 
 than this which rented for twenty-five dollars." 
 
 " Must have been a mighty mean neighborhood, then," 
 rejoined the Cleaver with a trifle of surliness. 
 
 " Perhaps so," responded Dibbs with a conciliatory nod. 
 "How long a time before your lease runs out?" 
 
 " Two years." 
 
 "Can you sub-let?" 
 
 " Yes. Here's the lease ; read it yourself." 
 
 Dibbs carefully read the paper, and handed it back with 
 the comment, 
 
 " I see no security is required." 
 
 " No; the landlord is a square man." 
 
 " Humph !" laughed Dibbs. " At thirty dollars a 
 month he ought to be able to square the circle. Well, 
 what's your price for good-will, fixtures, stock and the 
 uncxpired term of the lease? Now, name the very lowest 
 sum you'll take, for," drawing out his watch and look 
 ing anxiously at it, " I haven't a minute to spare in beat 
 ing you down a dollar." 
 
 " Well, seeing 1 want to sell right away and you don't 
 seem to be loaded with greenbacks, give me five hundred 
 dollars in cash, and the place is yours," replied his com 
 panion after a hesitating pause, during which he seemed 
 to be reluctantly throwing off quite a sum from the orig 
 inal price he intended to ask. 
 
 Dibbs threw up his hands and suddenly lost his balance
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 379 
 
 when this sum was named. He came near falling upon 
 the floor, but by an extraordinary effort regained his 
 equilibrium. 
 
 " Whew!" he exclaimed, his eyes starting with astonish 
 ment. "You didn't hit me in the face; did you? Take 
 me for a noodle, but you can knock me clean over with a 
 feather now ! Five hundred dollars ! Why, my dear 
 friend, you do not know me. I have not been the 
 president of a trust company or the cashier of a bank." 
 
 "How much cash have you got, anyhow?" impatiently 
 asked the man, beginning to watch the window nervously 
 in response to a secret signal from the boy. 
 
 " Only one hundred and fifty dollars, and that takes 
 my last red," replied Dibbs, dejectedly shaking his head, 
 while his keen eyes were watching the man and the boy 
 and the two figures on the opposite side of the street with 
 hidden glances. 
 
 " Well, luck's running against me now. So spill out 
 your cash : the place is yours. There's the lease !" tossing 
 him the paper. 
 
 The man had been hurriedly putting on his coat and 
 otherwise preparing himself for the street while speaking, 
 not omitting to place a revolver in his hip-pocket with a 
 menacing look toward the opposite sidewalk, where two 
 men stood watching the saloon. 
 
 Dibbs, equally as active, in the mean time procured pen 
 and ink from Lanty. He rapidly wrote a transfer of the 
 lease on the back of the document, and slowly turning to 
 the man, who was all impatience, said, 
 
 "My friend, your sign-manual appended to this in 
 strument will be necessary to consummate our business 
 transaction." 
 
 " Here ! give me your money," said the other fiercely 
 as he rapidly scrawled something like a name on the paper 
 and shook his hand in Dibbs' face. " You're the slowest 
 go I ever saw." 
 
 " I declare !" drawled Dibbs as he slowly emptied each 
 pocket on the bar and began counting the little pile of 
 rolled and twisted bills ; " I haven't got as much as I 
 thought. Take me for a noodle, I've been robbed ! A 
 stranger, and they took me in ! I say, friend," address-
 
 380 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 ing the man, who was already seizing the money, "you 
 couldn't take an even hundred for the place, could 
 you?" 
 
 For answer, Billy the Cleaver snatched the money that 
 lay upon the counter with an oath, and running swiftly to 
 the rear of the saloon as quickly disappeared through the 
 back window. 
 
 "What's the matter with him?" asked Dibbs of the 
 boy. "Has he got the hydrophobia?'' 
 
 " See those fellows over on the other side of the street ?" 
 whispered Lanty, slyly winking toward the front window, 
 from which the two men on the opposite sidewalk were 
 plainly visible. "Well, I know the cut of their jibs. 
 They are detectives. They are laying for Billy. Got a 
 warrant for him, I'll bet, and were afraid to serve it. 
 But the Cleaver has given them the slip, dead sure, this 
 time. Oh, but he is a skipper when he knows the cops 
 want him !" 
 
 " By ' cops ' do I rightly apprehend that you mean the 
 properly-instituted officers of the law, commonly known 
 as policemen?" asked Dibbs, Avho was already gazing 
 around with a look of proprietorship, his hands in his 
 pockets and a cunning smile on his face as his fingers 
 caressed two small rolls of bills which had not been 
 produced for Billy the Cleaver. 
 
 " Whist !" softly whispered Lanty. " I believe they 
 are going to try it on now," as the two men slowly sep 
 arated, one crossing the street and the other going toward 
 the rear of the saloon. "And they have got their hands 
 on their shooting-irons, too." 
 
 "Silence, youth! Let me receive the myrmidons of 
 the law," exclaimed Dibbs with a lofty flourish of his 
 hand as he strode toward the door, and opening it wide 
 admitted the astonished officer with a profound bow. 
 
 " Cast thine astounded eyes in whatever direction thou 
 wilt," said Dibbs as the man stood still, regarding him 
 with a dazed look, "they shall not rest upon the desired 
 individual of thy search. Xor can thy comrade, who 
 enters yon rear window, aid thee in thy fruitless mission." 
 
 "Who are you?" at length asked the officer, his eyes 
 roaming quickly around the place, and then resting with
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 381 
 
 a puzzled expression upon Dibbs, whose face was singu 
 larly peaceful and his arms folded gently upon his 
 breast. 
 
 " Officers, gentlemen, fellow-citizens/' said Dibbs -\vith 
 an expansive gesture as the other officer, as nonplussed as 
 liis comrade, came forward and joined them, " my noble 
 surname is Dibbs; my Christian cognomen, William. 
 I have the honor to be the proprietor of this establish 
 ment, which I hope you have entered thus unceremo 
 niously with full legal authority so to do. Otherwise I 
 shall consider it my duty, as a staunch upholder of the 
 legal rights of society, to proceed against you for tres 
 pass, and" to seek such other remedy as a wise and benefi 
 cent law may afford me." 
 
 "Where's Billy the Cleaver?" demanded one of the 
 officers, his hand laid nervously upon the hilt of his 
 revolver, which projected from his pocket. " He was 
 here a few moments ago. We saw him through this very 
 window." 
 
 " Far be it from me to deny your assertion or to 
 endeavor to persuade you to forego the evidences of your 
 own senses ; but that you saw William the Separator a 
 few moments ago in this particular locality is no reason 
 that he. still remains hereabouts. Action, my dear sir, is 
 the law of life, and exercise is necessary to health. Wil 
 liam may be taking his constitutional at this present time. 
 That you may be satisfied the aforesaid William has at all 
 events left this immediate jurisdiction, you have my full 
 permission to search these premises. Advance! Proceed 
 whither thou wilt!" 
 
 The men made a thorough exploration of the premises, 
 especially the cellar, and finally returned to Dibbs with the 
 hope of eliciting some information from him that would 
 put them on the track of the fugitive. All their attempts 
 were of no avail. Dibbs simply reiterated his assertion 
 of proprietorship, backing it up with free and copious 
 drinks. These potations effectually closed further discus 
 sion on the part of the officers, and after a while they 
 reluctantly took their departure, vowing that the new 
 proprietor of the Golden Bowl was a scholar and a gen 
 tleman.
 
 382 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 It might have been an hour later. The handbill and 
 the placards had been removed from the window ; the floor 
 was newly sanded, the chairs and tables in order. Already 
 the name of " The Golden Bowl " and the golden bowl 
 itself had been scratched from the glass by the huge jack- 
 knife of William Dibbs, who in his shirt-sleeves was work 
 ing these changes with vigorous alacrity. 
 
 " Now, Spike my boy," he said, pausing in his efforts 
 and winking at the bird, whose cage was hung behind the 
 bar, "you wait till to-morrow, and youM r ill see an attract 
 ive frontispiece to this saloon " 
 
 He was interrupted by the entrance of three men, who 
 seated themselves at one of the tables and called for lager. 
 They were evidently so engrossed in their conversation 
 that they did not notice the unfamiliar personage that 
 waited upon them. Placing the glasses in front of them, 
 Dibbs withdrew without catching so much as a glance of 
 any of their eyes. 
 
 " Professionals," whispered Lanty, who came in at this 
 moment and joined his master behind the bar. " Setting 
 up a game." 
 
 Dibbs' countenance was a marvel of innocence as he 
 moved indifferently toward the end of the counter, where 
 he could overhear the men. While apparently engaged 
 in arranging bottles his keen ears were on the alert. 
 Listening thus for some time, he heard nothing he could 
 understand, except the fact that these men were planning 
 some villainy. At last words fell upon his hearing that 
 made him chuckle away down to the end of his boots. 
 
 " Yes, Sladey must have made a ten-strike somewhere," 
 said one of the men. " I never knew him to be so flush." 
 
 " I'm glad of it," put in another. " Seth Slade has had 
 rough luck these last three years. Seems as if fortune is 
 bound to sit down on a good-hearted fellow. I say, though, 
 boys, it's right clever in Sladey to set out that treat for us 
 down at the Shades to-morrow." 
 
 " Sladey was always good on the divide," spoke up the 
 first man. " I recollect, when he raised that cheque on old 
 man Adams four years ago, he gave the boys almost every 
 dollar of it in treats." 
 
 " Yes, I remember that raise. It was beautifully done,"
 
 WILLIAM DIBBS FINDS A CLEW. 383 
 
 laughed the third man. " Sladey said then there was luck 
 in the name Adams, and the next week he was out West, 
 traveling on the community as J. Lawrence Adams. Yes, 
 Sladey is a trump ! Give him a fair show, and I'll bet on 
 him every time." 
 
 " Let's drink a bumper to him and go," said the first 
 speaker. 
 
 As the glasses were refilled by Lanty he continued in a 
 lower voice, " Here's to Nature's nobleman, Seth Slade 
 and J. Lawrence Adams, one and indivisible, now and for 
 ever! Eh, boys?" 
 
 The toast finished, the men threw their score on the 
 table and went boisterously out into the street through 
 the rear entrance. 
 
 " Lanty," quickly said Dibbs, catching the lad by the 
 shoulder as the men disappeared, " do you know where 
 the Shades is?" 
 
 " Of course I do," said the boy with a droll wink. " I 
 keep the run of all the saloons. There will be a chance 
 for me to buy one of them out some day. But not any of 
 the Shades for me, if you please." 
 
 " Why not?" asked' Dibbs. 
 
 " Because it's a hard crowd that lays around there. If 
 any of them go for you, you are gone, sure." 
 
 " Indeed !" muttered Dibbs to himself, turning away 
 and beating a tattoo on the bar with his fingers. " Well, 
 I must see that crowd to-morrow night and give them a 
 little surprise. In the mean time, I will hunt up Grim- 
 die. If he comes down handsomely with a reward, Sladey 
 shall be put in his power; if not, Sladey shall remain in 
 mine. Eh, Spike?" While he was thus meditating, his 
 eye caught sight of a young female standing in front of 
 the window. 
 
 " Whew !" he exclaimed ; " that's a beautiful specimen 
 of female architecture. Who is she, Lanty ?" noticing the 
 telegraphic signals that were passing between the lad and 
 the girl. 
 
 " That's Charity Sterrit, the sweetest girl that ever 
 swung on a back gate, I vow." 
 
 "She is a beauty, that's a fact," exclaimed Dibbs, starting 
 toward the window with an ogling smile at the damsel,
 
 384 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 who turned up her nose at him in response, and walked 
 slowly away. " I have seen women act that way before/' 
 said DibbS; returning to the bar. " When a woman turns 
 up her nose at a man, it's a sure sign that if he keeps at 
 her long enough she will one day turn up her lips to him. 
 Eh, Spike? Lanty, tell that beauteous female that I 
 await the pleasure of an introduction to her." 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 CLOSING SCENES SCENE FIKST. 
 
 Q1 ITTING-KOOM in the old farm-house at Slowville. 
 O The two women are seated by the fireplace, one in 
 front, the other by the chimney-jamb. The clock strikes 
 eight as an easily-recognized step is heard coming up the 
 walk. After a sudden and heavy knock the door opens. 
 Patrick Doyle enters, his face brimming over with smoth 
 ered laughter. 
 
 "God save ye kindly, ladies!" he said, pulling off his 
 hat, and making a sweeping bow with it. " Throth, it's 
 late I am comin' wid the phost-offis, but it's dyin' fur 
 laughter I wur this long time at the village beyant. 
 Shure, it's the moighty sharp lawyer that has throuble 
 now, wid the widder Boozer afcher him. Indade, it's 
 thrashin' owld Craft intirely she wor this afthernoon 
 wid her own umbrelly in his own offis. Faix, I'm 
 towld the lawyer ran down the street loike a fox, wid 
 her fly in' afther him an' latherin' his skull wid the 
 broken umbrelly-handle, which, be the token, was all 
 that was left in the powerful fist o' her. Oh, be the 
 powers ! it's not git-tin' off so aisy as that he'll be at all, 
 at all. She's too much for him, wid all his larnin'. In 
 dade she is ! It's marryin' her he'll be doin', if he wants 
 to dhraw a paceful breath agin this side o' the grave." 
 
 " Have you any letters for us ?" asked Mrs. Gagger a 
 trifle impatiently. 
 
 " Indade have I," he replied with a triumphant smile,
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 385 
 
 pulling two letters from out the depths of his pocket, 
 " and here they are. One fur ye, Misthress Gagger, 
 and one fur ye, Misthress Loyd," handing an epistle 
 to each. 
 
 " Yon may sit in the other room until we retire for 
 the night, Patrick," said Mrs. Gagger, motioning him in 
 the direction of the kitchen. 
 
 After the man had gone into the adjoining apartment 
 and closed the door, the women lost no time in reading 
 the letters and discussing their contents. The one to 
 Mrs. Gagger ran thus : 
 
 "DEAR MADAM: I take on myself the entire responsibility of writ 
 ing to you in reference to your husband, Mr. Silas Gagger. He is a 
 lodger in ray house, and has been quite sick ever since he came here. 
 Yesterday he was taken seriously ill. The doctor says he may recover 
 and he may not. Just no\v your husband needs the kindest care; and 
 while I am doing all I can for him, I know it is not what his wife could 
 do were she here. 
 
 "From his nephew Silas, who is an old boarder of mine, I have 
 learned your direction. I write to you, utterly ignorant of what has 
 caused your husband's temporary separation from you. My object is 
 simply to let you know how very sick the man is whom you one day 
 vowed before Heaven you would love, cherish and obey. If he should 
 die, you will forgive me this familiarity ; for I know that these honest 
 words of mine must bring you to him. Should he live, let us hope your 
 coining to him will be the means of your speedy mutual reconciliation. 
 
 " Yours, very respectfully, 
 
 " MRS. STERRIT." 
 
 The letter to Aziel was this : 
 
 " MY DEAR, DARLING AZIEL : Oh, I am so happy with Volney 
 He makes me call him Volney, but it is very hard to do it, he's such a 
 great big man, and I am such a little bit of a woman. Dear me ! dear 
 me ! I can't believe I'm married. It is just like a beautiful dream. My 
 heart sings all day long. I wish you were here to see what a sweet cosy 
 room we have. Mrs. Joy she has a very smart boy, named. Lanty 
 says our room is worth a great deal more than she asks Volney to pay 
 for it. Isn't she very kind to us? Dear good soul ! I hope some day 
 very soon we shall be able to pay her back a hundredfold. 
 
 " Dear me ! I wish I could work, so as to help dear Volney ! It is so 
 very hard when you want to assist those you love, and you cannot find 
 any way of doing it. Volney says my love is enough for me to do for 
 him. Isn't he a sweet boy to say that ? 
 
 " Oh, I'm so very, very happy ! Volney loves me so ! And he sav 
 that in a few days I shall see father again. Was there ever sue 1 a 
 dear Volney ? I cry every time Volney comes home from the -ill, I 
 love him so. 
 
 ' P. S. Oh, dear Aziel, yesterday I had to stop writ: _;, I was so 
 frightened. A man who said he was Keddie Stitt came iu see me while
 
 386 JS IT MA Y HAPPJIN. 
 
 Volney was at the mill. lie told me there was a big strike at the mill, 
 and Yolney was the only man willing to work, and that Volney would 
 be in very great danger if he should go to the meeting of the strikers 
 next Saturday night. 
 
 "Mr. Stitt said that he liked Volney and did not want to see him 
 hurt, and that I had better keep him away from the meeting. I told 
 Volney this when he came home. At first he only laughed, and then 
 lie looked so fierce that he frightened me. He said he would go to the 
 meeting even if he should be killed at it. I cried and begged, but it 
 was of no use. Volney said it was his duty and his right to go to the 
 meeting, and he was going. 
 
 'Oh dear! oh dear! what shall I do? Can't you come right away 
 and help me keep Volney from going to that meeting ? He will be 
 killed 1 know he will! Oil dear! oh dear! I'm so excited I can't 
 write any more. Do come, dear A/iel ! You can persuade him to stay 
 away from those wicked, cruel men I know you can. A thousand 
 sweet kisses for you. Your ailectionate friend, 
 
 " EMILY CiitrxuLE SI^ADE. 
 
 " P. S. Doesn't that name look funny? Volney says it's a sweet 
 name. I know the last word is. But, oh dear ! I'm so excited about 
 dear Volney ! You will come to us right away, won't you, dear ^Xancy V" 
 
 " What are you going to do ?" asked Mrs. Gngger as 
 Aziel finished reading this letter aloud. 
 
 " I shall go to Philadelphia this very night," was the 
 quick and firm reply. " And you ?'' 
 
 " I hardly know what to answer," said the other. 
 
 "Will you be advised by me?" asked Aziel, a serious 
 look upon her face. 
 
 " I know what you would say," responded Mrs. Gagger 
 with a weary smile, in which was a trifle of bitterness. 
 "You would have me forgive and forget?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Aziel, her voice full of emotion, " for 
 give raid forget before the grave, perhaps, makes both 
 impossible." 
 
 The train that sped eastward this same night bore among 
 its passengers two women sad faces, both of them, yet on 
 eaeli there now and then flitted a ray of hope like a rift 
 of sunshine rippling over a clouded lake. 
 
 CLOSING- SCENES SCENE SECOND. 
 
 Twilight is slowly settling upon the city. Men, women 
 and children are hurrying hither and thither, homeward 
 bound. Happy homes are waiting for many of these 
 toilers, to whom the sotting sun has brought the hour of 
 rest ; miserable homes shall receive the tired feet of others
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 387 
 
 homes in which resolution, energy and virtue have all 
 been crushed beneath the despair of a poverty that had 
 looked everywhere in vain for help, though seeking it 
 with prayers and tears. Not one in all this steady 
 throng, save here and there a pitying eye, stops to look 
 at yonder old blind man and his dog plodding along 
 their weary way. Perhaps one who knew him well could 
 have recognized Nicholas Grundle, despite his green spec 
 tacles, his torn and tattered clothes, his weak, shuffling 
 gait, and the trembling hand that could scarcely hold the 
 chain by which the dog was leading him. But certainly 
 no one could have told that this poor mud-daubed creature 
 with the hanging head and depressed stub of a tail was 
 Cassar. Yet so it was, and it could be seen on a nearer 
 approach that something of the old spirit was still gleam 
 ing in his eyes, that warily scanned each side of the street 
 in response to his master's muttered commands. 
 
 "Look sharp, Caesar !" the old man was now saying 
 with such a sudden thrill in his voice that the dog's ears 
 instantly stood erect and the stub tail vibrated ominously. 
 " Yonder he comes ! Yes, yes, Caesar !" he cried, shaking 
 the white rag at the dog and gesticulating in the direction 
 of a man in the distance, who, just at this moment recog 
 nizing the strange couple, wheeled and took to flight. 
 
 No need now to show the dog the Avhite rag ; no need 
 for his master to urge Csesar to the pursuit; and as use 
 less also was it for the man to seek to escape by flight, 
 with the mastiff's swiftly-leaping feet so close upon 
 him. 
 
 It took only a moment for the whole of this to happen. 
 The fugitive, casting back a frightened glance, suddenly 
 became aware of the extremity of his danger. He stopped, 
 turned quickly and discharged his revolver at the animal 
 so close at hand, whose frothy lips were quivering with 
 rage, and whose sharp teeth gleamed like a wolf's fangs 
 out of his grim red jaws. 
 
 The ball sped harmlessly by as the man staggered back 
 with a look of horror, and a roar like that of a lion came 
 defiantly from Caesar's cavernous mouth, and his eyes were 
 set with the murderous look of a demon, as he poised him 
 self for a deadly spring. It was too late for the man to
 
 388 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 fire again too late, indeed, for help of any kind. No 
 hope of escape now from the fury of this mastiff, already 
 at the very feet of his victim. The man seemed to realize 
 at this instant his awful peril. Dropping the weapon from 
 his nerveless grasp, he turned his head aside with a crv 
 of terror. He tried to cover his agonized face with his 
 hands, but they fluttered so with fear that they concealed 
 only a portion of his features. One gasping breath, and 
 he stood motionless and voiceless, paralyzed with despair. 
 In another second there was a short, fierce roar, a leap in 
 the air, and the horrified spectators sa\v the man fall upon 
 the sidewalk with the mastiff's fangs buried in his victim's 
 throat. A frightened cry for help rang out on all sides 
 from fleeing men and women. But no one dared approach 
 this terrible struggle for life. The man's voice gurgled 
 into a deathly silence ; the dog's growl grew fainter and 
 fainter as his teeth sunk deeper into the quivering white 
 flesh. 
 
 Soon there came on the spot the old man, not trembling 
 now, nor blind. The green glasses were no longer on his 
 eves, which shone with vindictive joy as he leaned over 
 the prostrate form and rubbed his hands with what seemed 
 to all who saw him a fiendish glee. Now, as if satisfied 
 with exultation and suddenly fearful of his victim's death, 
 he called to the dog to loosen his hold. As well might 
 he have told the powerless man to free himself from that 
 deadly grip. Ca?sar showed no sign of obedience, but 
 lay motionless, his mouth still clasping the blood-stream 
 ing throat. His master, exasperated now, struck him and 
 kicked him and spoke to him in tones of the sharpest com 
 mand, but neither blows nor kicks nor words had the 
 slightest power to move the dog or loosen his fatal hold 
 in the least. At last, Grundle with an oath snatched 
 up the revolver, which had fallen from the man's hand, 
 and fired at the dog. The ball pierced Ca?sar's shoulder. 
 With a cry of pain he let go his grip and turned toward 
 his master. Then, as if he considered that such a cruel 
 return for his fidelity absolved him from further fealty, 
 he slowly turned awav with a growl of contempt and 
 strode up the street, disappearing just as a policeman 
 came upon the scene.
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 389 
 
 "Where is my money? Give it to me! Tell me 
 where it is!" were the fiercely-spoken words of the old 
 man, whom the officer found kneeling beside the pros 
 trate form and roughly shaking it. 
 
 " AYlu.t's all tin's?" exclaimed the policeman, thrusting 
 Grundle aside and examining the wounded man. "This 
 is a rum go. Here! bring me a wheelbarrow. We must 
 get this man to a drug-store, or lie will bleed to death. 
 Hurry up, some of you loafers," addressing the men who 
 had gathered around, "or Sandy Grill will put a couple 
 of you in the lock-up over-night for not assisting an of 
 ficer in the discharge of his duty." 
 
 At this. moment there was a stir in the rear of the awe 
 struck, silent crowd. A little woman who had been flut 
 tering wildly around the outskirts of the circle now pushed 
 her way swiftly through the group that surrounded the 
 policeman and Grundle and the bleeding man who lay at 
 their feet. Face to face with Nicholas Grundle came Mrs. 
 Sterrit. A wild cry rang from her lips. Her face grew 
 ghastly white as that of the old man, who shrank away 
 from her as if she were indeed a spectre. He put out his 
 hands with a wild motion. She came closer and closer; 
 then, clasping her hands, cried in a voice that thrilled 
 every heart, 
 
 "Oh, John ! John ! Do you not know me?" 
 
 He swayed to and fro; whiter grew his face; he tried 
 to speak, but his lips muttered words unintelligible as the 
 frightened glance of his eyes. Then, with something like 
 a groan, lie threw up his arms, and would have fallen had 
 not the little woman, with the aid of the sympathizing 
 spectators, caught him in her arms and pressed him to 
 her bosom. But as she looked into his face with her eyes 
 so blinded with tears of joy that she could scarcely dis 
 tinguish his features, a convulsive shudder passed suddenly 
 over his frame, and he fell motionless at her feet. Sandy 
 Grill hurried away with the wounded man, while four 
 men bore the speechless Nicholas Grundle into the home 
 of Mrs. Sterrit. The little woman followed close beside 
 the silent form of him who had so strangely come hack to 
 her, holding his hand firmly and lovingly in her own. 
 There was a smile of mingled joy and resignation on her 
 
 S3*
 
 390 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 sweet face as they laid him down upon the lounge and 
 the doctor said to her that lie would live, bat it would be 
 many days before he would recover his mind. It was in 
 deed apparent, from the vacant look and silly laugh with 
 which the old man was now looking around him, that his 
 reason had left him, for the present at least. 
 
 CLOSING SCENES SCENE THIRD. 
 
 It was Reddie Stitt who was speaking. The rays of the 
 setting sun were brightening his rough features, almost 
 hiding the scowl that rested upon them. He was leaning 
 on the fence in front of Mrs. Joy's cottage, talking earn 
 estly to a woman who was replying as emphatically to 
 him. 
 
 " It is of no use to argue the matter, Miss Loyd," he 
 was saving; "I only tell von what I know. The hands 
 
 tf O f * 
 
 will not let Volney Slade speak, and if he attempts it to 
 night, he will get hurt, and badly hurt. It's a sorry 
 thing all around that he persisted in going to work at 
 the mill. It only made matters worse, for all hands 
 struck then, as I told him they would. It is strange he 
 cannot see how his coming here has injured our cause." 
 
 " It is very strange that you people cannot let a man 
 work when, where and for what he chooses," she replied, 
 a slight sneer in her even voice. "Capital could be 
 guilty of no greater tyranny. You even denv oiie of 
 your own number freedom of speech, and threaten him 
 with bodily harm if he dares to tell you his convic 
 tions as to right and wrong in this controversy be 
 tween capital and labor." 
 
 "I tell yon it is of no use to argue the question," 
 stoutly rejoined the man. "The world is as it is, and 
 we must take it so until it becomes better. People have 
 their opinions, and hold to them, right or wrong. I tell 
 you the hands are- down on Volney for coming here. 
 They will not let him speak. I know what that means; 
 and if you want this young man to save a broken skull, 
 you and his little chit of a wife had better persuade him 
 to stay at home to-night. I come and tell you this as his 
 friend. I like his pluck, and for that reason feel kind to-
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 391 
 
 ward him, though he wouldn't believe me if I should swear 
 it to him." 
 
 " There he comes," said Aziel, pointing in the direction 
 of a young man. walking with thoughtful, downcast air 
 toward them. ''Suppose you tell him, Mr. Stitt, what 
 you have l>eeii saying to me. I am sure he will listen 
 to reason." 
 
 " No ; not from me," answered the man with a derisive 
 smile, moving away; "for if he had listened to me, he 
 would not to-day be the only hand working at the mill. 
 Humph ! as if he was the only one among us that knows 
 what is right!" 
 
 Ileddie- Siitt, with a contemptuous fling of his head, 
 strode slowly away toward his home. 
 
 " What ! you here, Aziel ?" was the young man's sur 
 prised greeting as the woman ran to meet him. 
 
 He shook her hand with a cordial welcome that ban 
 ished the hesitating, doubtful expression from her face as 
 she answered: 
 
 " Yes, thank Heaven, I am here ! For, Volney, I fear 
 I have come none too soon to warn you of the danger you 
 are in." 
 
 " He has been alarming you, I see," said Volney, nod 
 ding at the retreating form of Reddie Stitt; "but do 
 not fear, Aziel, that I shall ever become a coward or 
 hesitate to speak the truth because there is danger in so 
 doing." 
 
 They had passed through the gate. A girlish form 
 darted from the door of the cottage, and rushed into the 
 young man's arms with a little cry of joy. 
 
 " 1 cannot wait any longer," murmured Emily, cling 
 ing closely to him, her bright, loving eyes fixed upon his 
 face. "Aziel made me promise not to come out until she 
 had talked with you by herself a little while, but I couldn't 
 wait another minute ; could I, Volney dear?" 
 
 "Of course not," he replied with a laugh. "I should 
 have felt very much disappointed if you had not run to 
 meet me." 
 
 He kissed away the tears of unspeakable jov that stole 
 out of her tender eyes, saying, as he released her from his 
 arms,
 
 392 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 " Come, let us go into the house. I have much to ask 
 you, Aziel," turning to her eagerly watching them with a 
 yearning look, "of matters and things at Slowville " 
 
 He was interrupted by a half-suppressed scream from 
 Emily, who had darted into the street, and in another in 
 stant was kneeling on the ground with the head of a huge 
 dog held fast in her arms. 
 
 " It is Csesar dear, good Caesar ! He has come from 
 father !" she was crying hysterically as her companions 
 ran to her side and immediately recognized the mastiff. 
 "See, poor fellow ! he is hurt !" she said, looking sorrow 
 fully at his wounded .shoulder, covered with blood. 
 " But you know me. Don't you, dear old dog ?" she went 
 on, nestling her cheek upon his head, as he whined and 
 licked- her face and the stub tail vigorously wagged with 
 
 j7- 
 
 The mastiff seemed in the midst of his pleasure to 
 
 have suddenly bethought himself of his duty ; for he 
 instantly ceased all demonstrations of joy, sprang from 
 his young mistress' arm, and with bark and whine and 
 growl ran back and forth in the direction from which he 
 had first come. Then, seizing Emily's dress, he pulled 
 and tugged at it, and in his own way as intelligible as 
 any language of man could have been begged her to 
 come with him. She followed him with swift, eager steps, 
 knowing full well that he was leading her to her father. 
 With her went Volney and Aziel, their faces as troubled 
 and perplexed as that of the girl was happy and radiant. 
 She felt certain, from Cresar's joyous bark as he looked 
 back at her, that he was trying to tell her that her father 
 was alive and well. The dog led them on through 
 street and alley and byway, and across a long stretch of 
 vacant land that intervened between this suburb and the 
 great metropolis that lay beyond it. At last they cam 
 into the city itself, and Caasar still walked onward, steadily, 
 sturdily, silently, his huge body swaying from side to 
 side, his feet falling upon the sidewalk with a measured 
 tread, and the stub tail wagging slowly and at regular 
 intervals. 
 
 There was occasionally something of a merry gleam in 
 the dog's eyes despite their malicious glare, as if, forsooth,
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 393 
 
 lie were well aware of the great surprise he had in store 
 for the silent group who were following him. 
 
 "Hello! what all this?" asked Sandy Grill, accosting 
 the little party as they halted and intently watched Cse- 
 sar. The dog was running his nose over the sidewalk, 
 where splotches of blood were still visible, barking and 
 whining, and looking around and showing the greatest 
 disappointment. "Do you know that dog?" continued 
 the officer, addressing Volney, whom he had as yet failed 
 to recognize. 
 
 " I know the dog as well as I know you, Mr. Grill," 
 said the young man, putting out his hand, which the 
 policeman took with a laugh of recognition. 
 
 " Oh yes ; you are the boy that helped a countryman to 
 pay* his debt. I remember it all now valise full of paper 
 and wood. Took you to station-house. You found money 
 in your pocket ; put there by your old nurse. Rum story, 
 but I guess it was true." 
 
 " Indeed it was true. Here is the nurss herself, and 
 also my wife. Ladies, Mr. Sandy Grill, who was a friend 
 to me when I needed a friend." 
 
 The women smiled on Sandy Grill, and shook his hand 
 and thanked him so sweetly for what he had done that he 
 blushed redder than the cardinal necktie he wore Sundays, 
 and vowed to them that he was paid a thousand times over 
 for what little he had done that night for Volney. 
 
 " Mr. Grill, can you tell us anything about an old man 
 whom this dog was in company with a little while ago?" 
 questioned Volney as Cse.sar began darting up and down 
 the street, and at last threw himself with a fierce bark 
 against the door of a small house a trifle in the distance. 
 
 " Go straight to that house where you now see the 
 dog, and you will find the old man. Is he any relation 
 of yours?" 
 
 "No; but he is of my wife," replied Volney, pointing 
 at Emily, who had already swiftly moved away in the 
 direction of the house, where Caesar's barking grew the 
 louder. 
 
 " Well, it's the strangest go I've seen since I've been on 
 the force. From all I can find out, the old man was walk 
 ing along just here, with his dog leading him, as if he was
 
 394 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 blind. All of a sudden the dog leaped at the throat of a 
 very fine-looking gentleman and thre\v him to the ground. 
 Then the old man suddenly took off his screen glasses and 
 hissed on the dog. He talked to himself as if he was be 
 ing revenged on the man who was being bitten to death 
 by the dog. At last the old man must have repented of 
 what he was telling the dog to do, so he tried to pull the 
 dog off, but the dog not being willing to let go his hold, 
 the old man shot him, and the dog ran away. I came on 
 hand just then. And while I was trying to tie up the 
 man's throat it was awfully mangled the old lady that 
 lives in that house yonder where the dog is barking came 
 running through the crowd, and as soon as she set eyes on 
 the old man she knew who he was, and he was so scared 
 at seeing her that he dropped in her arms as if dead. I 
 just came from the house. They told me there the old 
 man has gone clean crazy, and is looking out of his eyes 
 this very minute with as much sense as a dead mackerel." 
 
 The door of the small house had opened while he was 
 speaking. The dog sprang in past the figure of the little 
 woman on the threshold, who, as she saw Emily, threw up 
 her hands with a startled cry, and then tottered back out 
 of sight, swiftly followed by the pursuing form of the 
 girl. 
 
 " Another rum go !" exclaimed- Sandy Grill with a laugh. 
 "Regular theatre round here now. Emotional and sensa 
 tional drama in ibrty-'leven acts. Eh?" 
 
 " What has become of that other man?" quickly asked 
 A/icl of the policeman as Volney darted away toward the 
 dwelling into which Emily had so strangely disappeared. 
 ' Is he dangerously hurt?'' she managed to add, though 
 her voice was very unsteady and she felt a deathly faintness 
 s ealing over her in dread of the officer's replv. 
 
 "Yes. I had to take him down to the hospital," re 
 plied Grill, looking curiously at the scared face, white and 
 partly averted. " The doctor shook his head when he saw 
 him, and I guess he will have to pass in his chips this 
 time, certain. Fine-looking fellow, though ; may be a 
 gentleman, though he has the gambler's cut." 
 
 " Where is the hospital ?" she asked, her voice fainter, 
 though her heart beat violently and her breath came
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 395 
 
 and went in heavier and thicker volumes, stifling and 
 slow. 
 
 "St. Joseph's. I will show you " 
 
 She had left his side like a flash. Before he could re 
 cover from his surprise she had darted around the corner 
 and \vas gone. 
 
 "The plot thickens," said Sandy Grill. "And such 
 being the case, I will go up to the Golden Bowl be 
 tween the acts and see what kind of a spirit-mixer that 
 new landlord is." 
 
 CLOSING SCENES SCEXE FOURTH. 
 
 "It is against the rules," the young physician was say 
 ing, "but as you arc so near a relative of his, I cannot 
 deny your request. You will find him in yonder cot," 
 pointing to the extreme end of the long line of beds. 
 "You must be careful and not excite him or let him talk 
 too much. The artery is badly lacerated, and is liable to 
 rupture under any violent or unusual exertion. His situ 
 ation is precarious. You will be verv cautious?" 
 
 The woman shook her head with a quick affirmative 
 gesture, murmured her thanks, and went swiftly down the 
 hospital ward, her eyes fixed on the distant bed with a 
 mingled expression of eagerness and fear. As she ad 
 vanced nearer to it she laid her hand upon her heart, 
 and stood suddenly still with a gasp of half-suppressed 
 agonv ; for in the light of the dimly-burning gas she 
 saw the closed and sunken eyes of him she knew so well, 
 his ashy, bloodless face made more deadly pale by his 
 black locks, that clustered in straying curls about his 
 cheeks and temples. Entirely covering his throat was a 
 broad white bandage. This, with his pallid hands crossed 
 upon his breast, completed the semblance of death that- 
 had at first sight so agitated the woman. 
 
 Stifling her sobs as best she could, she drew closer to 
 him and tried to speak his name calmly. But how could 
 she be calm with him dying, doubtless^ before her very 
 eyes? Her voice came in a little despairing cry from her 
 lips, that quivered beyond control. 
 
 " You here?" he said so composedly that for an instant
 
 396 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 a faint gleam of hope crossed the dreadful apprehension 
 of her face. "Ah, Agnes, I knew you would come. 
 Something- seemed to tell me you would soon be here." 
 
 He had put out his hand gropingly as lie called her 
 Agnes, and a brighter, though softened, light shoue in his 
 eyes. His cold grasp held her trembling palm close to 
 his cheek, while his gaze fastened itself upon her face 
 with a wan smile of gratitude and recognition. Over 
 come by his utterance of that name and speechless with 
 grief at the sight of his deathly appearance, she had 
 fallen upon her knees beside the couch. Weeping bit 
 terly, she was stroking the hair back from the dam]), 
 cold forehead, while he gentlv and tremulously kissed 
 the hand he had slowly and with evident effort pressed 
 to his lips. 
 
 "Seth " 
 
 She tried to talk to him, to tell him how she still loved 
 him in spite of all he had done to make her hate him 
 yes, loved him now far more even than when, in the years 
 long since past, she had indeed been his Agnes and loved 
 him with all the abandon of young love's devotion. 
 Though she could not speak to him, so great was her 
 emotion, her lips tenderly pressed his forehead, and her 
 eyes, looking so vearningly into his. told him of her deep, 
 true love far better than words could have done. A 
 heavy sigh came from his lips. He looked into her face 
 eagerly, but despair and remorse followed each other in 
 slow succession across his features. Again there came to 
 his face the kindlv smile with which he had at first 
 greeted her, though now there was a deeper meaning in 
 it a suggestion of restitution as he said, with calm 
 ness, 
 
 " Agnes, I am so very glad you have come to me. It is 
 very late, I know, for me to try to undo my past wicked- 
 ne.-s toward you. You will forgive me now, when I speak 
 to you from the very brink of the grave?" 
 
 She interrupted him with a half-articulate cry of agony, 
 and besought hin^not to speak of death. 
 
 " Xo, no, no!" she went on, frantically pressing his 
 hands to her bosom and covering his white lips with 
 kisses and scalding tears, "you are not dying, Seth ! Xo,
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 397 
 
 no, you shall not die ! You shall get well. I will nurse 
 you day and night." 
 
 JIc gently caressed her cheek with his hand, patting it 
 and wiping away the tears falling so fast from her eyes 
 that looked down upon him with an agony of yearning. 
 
 "Ever the same Agnes!" he said, softly drawing her 
 head down upon the pillow beside his own "so full of 
 love and forgiveness! Ah! if I had listened to you in 
 those evil days, what happiness might have been ours! 
 Bnt I was not so bad as you thought me, Agnes no, not 
 nearly so wicked as I made you believe. Listen," he re 
 sumed with something of his old air of triumph lingering 
 in his voice; "you must strike off one of my crimes from 
 your catalogue of my sins. You were legally married to 
 me', Agnes, in that little old country church. The man 
 who performed the ceremony was a genuine minister, and 
 not a personation by one of my friends, as I told yon after 
 ward when you would not consent to iny marriage with 
 the heiress. You were my wife then, and," he went on, a 
 trifle excitedly, "you are my wife now. Though I put 
 you away from me with a lie, and married that woman only 
 to hate her, you have been my legal wife ever since the mo 
 ment we left that little church so very happy. Oh, Ag 
 nes!" his voice growing feebler and husky, "you will 
 forgive me? Tell me that I leave this world with your 
 forgiveness and blessing following me into that unknown 
 Beyond whose dark shadow seems already coming over 
 my eves !" 
 
 " Forgive yon, dear Seth ?" She wildly threw her arms 
 about him and covered his ashen face with kisses that her 
 quivering lips could scarcely form. "There is nothing 
 for me to forgive, dear, dear Seth ! You always loved 
 me you were always kind to me. It was not you that 
 deserted me," she continued, trying to force a tone of 
 smoothness into her broken, vibrating voice. " It was 
 some evil spirit that took you from me. You are all 
 mine now; you have come back to me. I knew you 
 would. We shall be happv now together. You shall 
 not die. We will go far away where we can live at 
 last happy only in ourselves ; and our son Volney, dear 
 Seth, shall come and see us, and we will tell him all,
 
 398 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 and he will forgive us the past just as freely as I forgive 
 you, my own clear husband." 
 
 "God bless you for those words!" he murmured, draw 
 ing her eloser to him, if closer she could be, with her wet 
 face already pressed against his cheek. " My heart feels 
 lighter now. Oh, if I had only listened to you, Agnes, 
 in those days in those days! But look!" as she sud 
 denly raised herself and bent over him with a gaze of 
 startled fear; "how dark it is growing! I cannot see 
 your face, Agnes, so well as I did. Are they putting 
 out the lights?" 
 
 "You must not die !" she gasped, bending still lower 
 and gazing with speechless agony into those eyes that 
 steadily looked up at her with a smile that grew fainter 
 and fainter. " Seth, dear Seth, speak to me once morel" 
 
 She spoke in a hollow whisper that brought back for 
 an instant the smile, for an instant the look of gratitude 
 in his half-closed eyes, that slowly opened and as slowly 
 sought her face with a soft sigh escaping his lips. His 
 hand fluttered across the bed as if in search of something. 
 "Give me your hand," he whispered. " Let me hold it 
 while I sleep." He took the hand she scarcely had 
 strength enough to place in his icy-cold fingers and 
 pressed it to nis lips with a long, lingering kiss. Then, 
 with a peaceful smile, he laid her open palm beneath his 
 cheek, looked up at her with a loving glance, and wearily 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 " It is very dark, dear wife," she heard him murmur 
 ing as his fingers stiffened about her hand, held so 
 closely to his cheek. " I should be so afraid if you were 
 not with me, Agnes. Keep near me, darling. It is so 
 cold and dark. But I hear your voice calling to me, 
 softly speaking my name in the darkness. Ah ! there is 
 your loving face !" as she pressed her last passionate 
 kisses upon his lips in speechless woe. "Come closer to 
 me, Agnes. It grows darker still, and cold so very 
 cold ! Good-night, dear wife ! Kiss me good-night ! 
 I am tired. I must sleep now." 
 
 Softer and softer came his breath ; colder grew the fin 
 gers clinging to the woman's hand ; fainter was the smile 
 upon his cheek. Nor was it at all like the evil smile of
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 399 
 
 old, but rather like that of a child sinking; to slumber 
 with its mother's voice lulling it to rest. The slightest 
 tremor stole over his features. Then there was that utter 
 and awful stillness about him that told not of sleep, no 
 matter how profound, but of death that lasting sleep for 
 the awakening from which love's eager watching ever 
 waits in vain. 
 
 The woman made no outcry. Throwing herself with a 
 frantic motion upon the bed, she put her arms about him 
 and laid his rigid face close to her own pallid cheeks. 
 Thus holding fast to him, she became as motionless as the 
 dead body clasped to her bosom. Her intense mental 
 suffering found no expression in exclamations or gestures 
 or tears. There was no longer either stir or motion in 
 her* form. Rigid and lifeless as sculptured marble she 
 lay there, her hand still resting in his cold clasp, her lips 
 so close to his. Not even on her marriage-day had this 
 hand been given to him with so much sacrificing and en 
 during affection as it now lay throbbing with unutterable 
 longings in his palm, stretching forth its last grasp from 
 the very grave itself. Nor had her bridal kiss ever told 
 him of love like this with which she pressed his dead lips. 
 
 O woman, how enduring, how compassionate, how for 
 giving, thy love ! type, indeed, of that divine love which 
 the ingratitude of man has no power to destroy ! 
 
 CLOSING SCENES SCENE FIFTH. 
 
 Its most regular and devoted customer could never 
 have recognized the Golden Bowl by its present exterior. 
 A sudden transformation in one day it had been, arousing 
 the attention and curiosity of every woman and child in 
 the neighborhood, while the men, equally alert, were los 
 ing no time in gratifying their own closer iriquisitiveness, 
 as the well-filled saloon had all day testified. The wood 
 work of bulkhead and window-sash and door no longer 
 flared in red, but had been painted a pure white, relieved 
 here and there with lines and tracings of gold. Even the 
 red lamp over the door had been removed and its place 
 supplied by one of blue and white glass. Nor had the 
 blank wall oil the outside been neglected, but it also had
 
 400 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 been covered with white paint, and now .shone forth with 
 an eminently spotless surface. This ne\v stvle of saloon 
 decoration was William Bibbs' individual taste the re 
 flex of what he termed his " natural innocence." 
 
 In response to the remonstrance of the boss painter, 
 who stubbornly argued for red as the best color for the 
 purpose, Dibbs had replied in his own inimitable and 
 voluble manner : 
 
 " Red, didst thon say, manipulator of the slowly- 
 moving bunch of bristles? To alter the divine William 
 a trifle, 
 
 ' Red is the color of blood, 
 The hue of lire and the scowl of danger.' 
 
 Nay ; rather let the color of my establishment be ' whiter 
 than new snow on a raven's back,' to quote correctly the 
 aforesaid poet. Ay, white is the emblem of purity and 
 innocence. What more appropriate color in which to 
 reflect the quality of my liquors or the character of my 
 business? So proceed, my friend, and paint this visible 
 space as white as an 
 
 'Ethiopian's tooth, or the famed snow 
 That's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er.'" 
 
 Striking as was this unusual color to all passers-by, 
 they were more astonished by the singular name and 
 lettering upon the window where before the golden bowl 
 and Cupids had been the attractive decoration. 
 
 Upon the window was now drawn the following, in gold 
 letters shaded with soft lines of black : 
 
 THE WFSTKTIN HEMISPHERICAL IIou.v 
 
 Sc plus ultra poltil/i'iixj'iir all who - 
 
 [For the meaning of the above dash, interrogate the sign upon the 
 mural surface within.] 
 
 Adding greater mystery to the meaning of this an 
 nouncement was the changed and singular appearance of 
 the inner floor of the window. Here, instead of an array 
 of all kinds of bottles and cigar-boxes and illuminated 
 cards, Mas a horticultural and aquaria! display very cred 
 itable for so small a place. In the centre of a bed of 
 fresh green moss stood a miniature aquarium, in which
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 401 
 
 gold and silver fish dreamily glided or flashed their 
 brilliant colors in the sparkling sunlight, while floating 
 Qii a chip a tiny turtle lay basking in a sunbeam. Sur 
 rounding the aquarium was a circle of growing flowers, 
 all in bloom, and as tastefully arranged in form and color 
 as if an artist's hand, guided by an artist's eye, had placed 
 them there. In each of the four corners stood a full 
 blown calla-lily, while all over the white blinds that shut 
 out all sight of the business region beyond clambered a 
 luxuriant vine. Nor on entering the saloon did one 
 find the interior less inviting than this cheerful window, 
 so suggestive of Nature's happiest moments by field and 
 brook and wood. Here everything bristled with cleanli 
 ness, keen-eyed and scrupulous. The walls had been 
 newly papered, the wood-work painted, the tables and 
 chairs vigorously scrubbed. Even Lanty's face and rai 
 ment had undergone a sudden change. In clean linen and 
 a new suit a present from his new boss he was shining 
 clear as the glistening of the bottles and glasses and the 
 polish of the large mirror behind the bar. Just in the 
 centre of this mirror, in conspicuous golden letters, were 
 the words : 
 
 Meaning of the dash : pay for them. 
 
 After a few moments of reflection the reader would add 
 this meaning to the line upon the window, and repeating 
 to himself, " Ne plus ultra potations for all who pay for 
 them," would call it a good joke, and invite the new land 
 lord to take a drink in honor of his witticism. Dibbs 
 always accepted the invitation, pouring out his own drink 
 from a decanter which he kept beneath the counter. This 
 decanter held a liquid which he said was the only whiskey 
 he could drink. It was, however, a mixture of molasses 
 and water especially prepared by Dibbs for his own use, 
 in order that he might find no difficulty in accepting all 
 offers to drink at the expense of his customers. Did any 
 customer ask for a taste of this peculiar whiskey, Dibbs 
 cheerfully assented. Deftly bringing to view a similar 
 decanter, which he always kept hidden with his own for 
 such an emergency, he would pour out the same whiskey 
 his customer had just been drinking. 
 
 34* 2 A
 
 402 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 Spike was not less popular than his master. Hanging 
 in his new cage from the ceiling in front of the mirror, 
 he blinked and whistled at the two mottoes that adorned 
 the wall on each side of him. These mottoes were as 
 follows : 
 
 " Wine that mnketh glad the heart of man." 
 
 " Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake, 
 and thine often infirmities." 
 
 Notwithstanding so gross a misapplication of Scripture, 
 Dibbs was at this moment pointing to these texts with 
 pride, and thus addressing his patrons, many of whom 
 thought the quotations were from Poor Richard's Almanac: 
 
 " Gentlemen, those are verses which you will find in any 
 Bible you may be able to borrow from your friends. I 
 have elevated them in yonder conspicuous position, not so 
 much as an encouragement to your temperate potations, 
 but rather as a withering rebuke to that portion of the 
 community who defame fructus frumenti optirnus as the 
 enemy of man, and preach total abstinence as the salva 
 tion of the world. Banish wine from the world ! No 
 more relief for the feeble stomach, the weary brain, the 
 gloomy mind, the saddened heart, the quivering nerves, 
 the feeble muscles " 
 
 Dibbs' oratory was here interrupted by the entrance of 
 a group of angry-looking men. He soon learned that 
 they were a committee from the strikers of Marsh's mill, 
 and that they were returning from an unsuccessful inter 
 view with their employer at his own residence. 
 
 " Gentlemen," suddenly cried Dibbs with a generous 
 flourish of his hand and a smile beaming with sympathy, 
 "as a friend of the workingman, down-trodden, oppressed 
 and enslaved, with the iron heel of capital grinding his 
 neck in the dust, I bid you welcome to the Hora Bibendi. 
 Eat, drink and be merry. Let not considerations of filthy 
 lucre restrain your appetites, for it is my noble pleasure 
 that you mastic-ate the crackers and cheese and imbibe the 
 elevating fluid at my expense." 
 
 This invitation was at first received with curious and 
 hesitating silence ; but when Lanty, acting somewhat as a 
 short-hand reporter of his employer's speech, cried out,
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 403 
 
 " He means free drinks for all. Set 'em up ! What shall 
 it be?" the crowd broke out into deafening cheers, and a 
 moment later were silently drinking beer, not a few eyes 
 among the group fixed admiringly on Dibbs. 
 
 " It's plainly to be seen you are a friend of the laboring- 
 man," said one of the men, addressing Dibbs. " We are 
 much obliged for your kindness, and will not forget it. 
 The working-man, sir," laying his hand impressively on 
 his breast, " has a heart that seldom forgets a benefit, and 
 always remembers an injury." 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Dibbs, looking around upon the 
 group with profound admiration, and throwing his arm 
 upward" with a gesture most majestic, "this is the proud 
 est moment of my life, surrounded as I am, for the first 
 time, by such a glorious array of the noblest product of 
 animated nature the workingman. Ay, in your most 
 noble countenances I see the personification of the spirit 
 of Labor that spirit to which the world owes everything, 
 its plenty, its comfort, its elegance ay, its very existence. 
 Yes, my noble sons of toil, it is Labor, and Labor alone, 
 that has made the world what it is. By Labor \vas the 
 universe created, with its millions of starry worlds and its 
 thousand controlling and sustaining laws ! Not only was 
 our own magnificent planet the product of divine labor, 
 but by human labor only, supplemented by divine Provi 
 dence, has it been able to make the slightest progress in 
 science, literature and arts ay, even in morals and phil 
 osophy. 
 
 " Hail, glorious, godlike, invincible Labor! Thou hast 
 built the world's cities, felled its forests, navigated its rivers, 
 opened its mines, tunneled its mountains, ploughed its 
 mighty acres, reaped its broad-spreading harvests, ribbed 
 its plains and valleys with bands of steel that carry the 
 swiftly-flying train that annihilates time and distance. 
 Thou hast brought continents together in a close electric 
 kiss that vibrates beneath the seas ay, and covered the 
 vast ocean itself with the white wings of commerce, that 
 shine on every billow and gleam even now on the far-off 
 waves of the polar sea. 
 
 "And what, may I ask in the name of you horny- 
 handed, rugged-faced sons of toil, has Capital done for
 
 404 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 the benefit of this world ? What has bloated and lecher 
 ous and vampire-sucking Capital done to make this world 
 of ours one whit better since that day when an all-wise 
 Creator said unto our antediluvian progenitors, ' In the 
 sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread'? Ay, for what 
 are we indebted to Capital except for all the want and 
 misery and crime in the world? Has not thieving and 
 insatiable Capital built our prisons, our almshouses, and 
 insane asylums, where it could pitilessly thrust its victims 
 out of sight? Ay, Capital, with its steeled heart and 
 bloody hand, has ever been the oppressor of the poor, 
 the robber of the widow, the despoiler of the orphan. 
 Not content with the cries of anguish its gigantic and op 
 pressive monopolies have wrung from the parched and 
 hungry lips of Labor, it has forged upon the noble 
 working-man of America the fetters of a bondage worse 
 than slavery, and forces even the sweat of death from the 
 brovr of Labor " 
 
 Again were Dibbs' forensic efforts interrupted, this time 
 by the loud applause of his audience, and also by the ap 
 pearance of Sandv Grill, his star glittering upon his breast 
 and his baton held aloft with an ominous flourish. The 
 policeman had eagerly seized upon the present uproar to 
 enter the saloon and exercise his authority, which he did 
 by ordering the room to be cleared. 
 
 "Rather too much noise, landlord," said Sandy Grill to 
 Dibbs when they were alone, for Lanty too had disap 
 peared. " Neighbors will complain. This place, you 
 know, has had a bad name a long time. I hope you will 
 do a quieter business than Billy the Cleaver. All! I see 
 you have put in a side door," glancing toward this new 
 place of exit. 
 
 " Yes," said Dibbs, dextrously mixing a most enticing 
 drink and extending it toward the policeman ; " that door 
 is like some people's prayer-books to be used only on 
 Sunday. But here's to your health, most worthy bul 
 wark of the municipal law !" touching the other's glass 
 with his own and smacking his lips over his molasses and 
 water. "May our acquaintance ripen into friendship! 
 Thou and thy associates of the locust art ever welcome to 
 the Hora Bibeudi. For listen, knight of the silver star;
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 406 
 
 the laboring-man, who makes the laws, and the police 
 man, who executes them, are noble objects of admiration 
 to yours truly. Sir, I adore the merit of the humbler 
 classes. I sympathize with the laboring-man in all his 
 many trials. To him are my heart and my pocket-book 
 alike ready and open. While I draw this fleeting breath, 
 the Hora Bibendi shall be a sure and pleasant and free 
 refuge for him whose majestic brow is covered with the 
 sweat of daily, honorable and ennobling toil " 
 
 " Where are the cops hiding now ?" exclaimed Lanty, 
 who made a sudden reappearing dive through the door; 
 with eyes dilated with excitement and holding both his 
 hands "aloft, he slid across the sanded floor. "Mr. Dibbs, 
 the most awful thing has just happened down the street! 
 A' dog has chawed a man's head right off at the neck, 
 and old Mrs. Sterrit found her uncle dead in the street, 
 and" 
 
 "Just hold up there!" interrupted Sandy Grill with a 
 look of sublime contempt at the lad. "I was an eye-wit 
 ness of that affair, and you tell it about as straight as one 
 of those newspaper reporters, who make up what they 
 don't see." Then, turning to Dibbs, he continued: "But 
 it was the rummest go, though, I've seen since I was on 
 the force. I didn't see the beginning of it, but the way 
 that bull-dog made mince-meat of the man's throat sent 
 the cold shivers all over me. Some of the people that 
 stood around told me afterward that the old man who 
 owned the clog, and set him on, accused the other man 
 of having robbed him " 
 
 " What kind of a dog was it?" put in Dibbs, his voice 
 betraying no more than ordinary interest in the affair, al 
 though his heart beat rapidly under the excitement of his 
 suspicions. 
 
 "A thickset, white dog with black points, cropped ears 
 and a stub tail." 
 
 " What sort of a looking man was it the dog attacked?" 
 still further questioned Dibbs, this time proffering the po 
 liceman a cigar. 
 
 "A right good-looking fellow, though I don't believe 
 he ever did an honest day's work," replied Sandy Grill 
 between his puffs. " Guess he was nimble with the cards.
 
 406 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 Had hands like a woman's long, white and thin. On 
 one of his fingers was the oddest ring I ever saw a 
 little snake with red eye?." 
 
 "What became of this man?" asked Dibbs, with diffi 
 culty steadying his voice. " Was he able to get away by 
 himself?"" 
 
 "Bless you, no! When I raised him up he was so 
 weak he couldn't have run a race with a turtle if it was 
 to save the rest of his neck. We took him down to St. 
 Joseph's hospital. I guess he will make his last deal and 
 find spades is trumps before the night is over." 
 
 " Hello ! that is six o'clock \lj exclaimed Dibbs, seizing 
 his hat, as a neighboring bell struck the hour. ' "I must 
 be going. Mv landlady insists on punctuality, and as I 
 am a new boarder, and wish to make a good impression 
 upon her, I shall conform strictly to her rules. Knight 
 of the locust," waving his quick adieu to the policeman, 
 "the bar is at your disposal. Lanty, do the honors in 
 my absence." 
 
 In another instant Dibbs had gone out and slowly 
 passed the front window. Then, with a quickened pace, 
 he sought a drug-store near at hand. Learning here the 
 location of the hospital the policeman had mentioned, 
 Dibbs directed his swift footsteps toward it. It was not 
 long before his rapid pace had brought him to the place, 
 where he soon gained admittance, having announced hhn- 
 self as the brother of the injured man. 
 
 "His wife is a little ahead of you," said the young 
 physician, preceding Dibbs up the darkened flight of 
 stairs and showing him ilito the faintly-lighted ward, 
 where were the long rows of beds, most of them empty, 
 save a few at the lower end. " Yes, there she is. I can 
 just see her form bending over his cot. You will oblige 
 me by not exciting him, and I think your sister-in-law 
 had better soon leave her husband for the night." 
 
 Dibbs, nodding assent as the physician turned away, 
 made his way slowly and softly down the corridor. As he 
 came nearer he recognized who the woman was that 
 leaned over this bed. A single glance at the white face 
 on the pillow was all he took as he drew to one side and 
 concealed himself in a shadowed recess of the wall. Here
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 407 
 
 lie stood, motionless and silent, seeing every movement of 
 these two and few of their words escaping the keenness of 
 his hearing. At first a smile of triumph had played across 
 his features ; but as he saw the man dying, and heard his 
 farewell words, and noted the eagerness with which the 
 woman clung to him, Dibbs' face grew more solemn and 
 sympathetic, and as he turned his face away he found tears 
 stealing down his cheeks despite the self-bantering shrug 
 of his shoulders. When his eyes were clear again, and 
 were once more fastened on the cot, he saw with a little 
 start how quiet they both were, lying there so close to 
 gether. Then he knew the Angel of Death had quickly 
 passed, that way, and thai he and the spirit of the man 
 had gone hand in hand into the infinite Beyond. 
 
 It was Dibbs' quick yet firm voice that roused the 
 woman at last, and made her give utterance to a long, 
 weary moan. 
 
 " Come, Miss Loyd," he said, gently raising her from 
 the bed, " allow me to extend my aid and sympathy. 
 Excuse my abruptness," he went on as she gazed silently 
 up at him with a dazed look of recognition, " but you 
 should remember now that you have a duty to the living. 
 Your son's lawful father must make restitution of Nich 
 olas Grundle's money through us. It will not do to 
 delay this one moment. Success lies in instant action." 
 
 "Oh, if I only knew where to find the money, it should 
 be given back to him this very night!" she cried piteously, 
 wringing her hands and bending over the dead face. "If 
 he had lived, he would have told me. Would you not, 
 dear, dear Seth ?" she went on hysterically, patting the 
 pallid cheek, upon which still rested the faint smile of his 
 parting. 
 
 " Do you wish me to act for you in this matter?" asked 
 Dibbs, touching the woman on the shoulder with a kindly 
 pressure of his hand. " Have I your authority to go in 
 search of that property, taking whatever steps I choose to 
 get possession of it?" 
 
 " Do go and find it for me," she said imploringly ; for 
 as she turned to him she saw by his countenance that he 
 knew where the property was. 
 
 " Will you go with me, or stay here till I return?" he
 
 408 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 asked quickly, o-lancinor in the direction of the vouno- 
 
 *- ' O ti O 
 
 physician, wlio was coming toward them. 
 
 "I will stay here," was her qniet reply as she slowly 
 took her seat by the bed, and with a stifled groan readied 
 out her hands toward the lifeless one and laid them upon 
 his own cold palms, folded so calmly upon his breast. 
 
 " Remember," said Dibbs, whispering, as he moved 
 away, " not only that you are this man's wife, but that 
 his name is J. Lawrence Adams and I am his brother." 
 
 " How is the patient ?" asked the physician as Dibbs 
 passed him. 
 
 " He's climbed the golden stair/' was the blunt and odd 
 reply. 
 
 "Dead?" exclaimed the other. 
 
 " Physic could make him no deader," said Dibbs with 
 a trifle of a smile. " I wish you would leave my sister 
 alone with him a while. I will return presently, and am 
 going away now to make arrangements as to the disposi 
 tion of the body." 
 
 The physician assented. In less than an hour Dibbs 
 came back to the hospital. Again he roused the woman 
 by the bed. She started with a little cry of alarm, for it 
 seemed to her only a few moments ago that she had parted 
 with him. 
 
 " It is all right," he said. " I found his lodgings, and 
 put my hands upon the very trunk containing the miser's 
 property. It is safe in my room now. Come! let us go. 
 I have given the body of our friend into safe and tender 
 keeping for the night. To-morrow you shall see him 
 again. But before any one else knows of his identity you 
 and I must visit that little copntry church and verify the 
 story he told you. Then, if it prove true as I feel it 
 must you can claim your son before the world." 
 
 Dibbs felt how these last words made her tremble as 
 she held closely to his arm, but he said no more on the 
 subject, only spoke soothingly to her as she sobbed and 
 cried, groping her way down the corridor, stopping more 
 than once to glance back at the motionless form on the cot.
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 409 
 
 CLOSING SCENES SCENE LAST. 
 
 Evening in the sitting-room of a substantial cottage in 
 Blowville. 
 
 " Oh dear me ! I wish I was a Avidder again ! I Avas 
 some account then. Seems to me men don't care much 
 for their wives after they get them. But poor Boozer 
 did, though. Yes, Boozer was a very attentive husband. 
 He was just like a tender lamb, following me all day 
 long. I wish he was here now, the dear, patient olfl 
 angel !" 
 
 " Madam, allow me to second your wish with all the 
 powers of my harassed and burdened soul," came from 
 the other side of the table. " Nothing would more de 
 light me than that Peter Boozer, the former partner of 
 your matrimonial bosom, were now enjoying that connu 
 bial felicity from which death so kindly relieved him, and 
 which has become such an intolerable burden to myself. 
 Allow me to add, my dear madam, that upon your unwom 
 anly eagerness rests the sole responsibility of our present 
 unhappincss. You inveigled me into this social dilemma, 
 from which neither of us can retreat without the most ri 
 diculous public exposure. Alas! alas! If I were only a 
 bachelor again, a million times your fortune would be no 
 temptation to me to tread the vale of life with you unless, 
 indeed, you were bestowed safely in the bottom of the vale 
 and I meandering serenely on top of the green sward !" 
 
 " Rader Craft, you're a bald-headed old fool that's 
 Avhat you are !" came from the Avoman, the tones grow 
 ing ominously angry. 
 
 " Then I am well mated with you, if not well married," 
 he rejoined with a sneer, becoming deeply absorbed in his 
 paper. 
 
 "Did you say I Avas bald-headed, you old hypocrite?" 
 cried the woman, springing from her chair and shaking 
 her index finger in his face. 
 
 " Certainly not, my dear," Avas the reply in a voice of 
 assumed tenderness as he fastened his eyes more intently 
 upon the printed page. "Your loA T ely head is coA'ered with 
 a perennial growth," then loAvering his voice, "thanks to 
 the Avigmaker." 
 
 35
 
 410 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 "What's that you SAY?" she demanded. 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Yes, you did !" she persisted. 
 
 " No, I didn't." 
 
 " I tell you you did !" and she stamped her foot. 
 
 " I didii't," he muttered. 
 
 "You did!" 
 
 "Didn't," he growled half audibly. 
 
 She began to crv, and shouted, 
 "You did! you did! you did! did! did! did!" 
 
 The relict of Peter Boozer, no\v the wife of Ruder Craft, 
 would have continued this monotonous assertion until her 
 husband sought refuge in the street had not a loud rap 
 upon the door interrupted her. Mrs. Craft crossed the 
 flo:>r, her tears vanishing with astonishing rapidity, and 
 opened the door with a smile. A young man raised his 
 hat with a profound bow, and entered the room with a 
 young woman leaning tenderly upon his arm. In dress, 
 looks and gestures they had the appearance of a recently- 
 married pair. 
 
 "William Dibbs, I declare!" exclaimed the lawyer, in 
 his astonishment dropping his paper and eye-glasses at 
 the same time. 
 
 ''A salutation of mathematical correctness," replied the 
 new-comer. " I indeed rejoice in that aforesaid highly- 
 respectable cognomen. But adopting in the present ex 
 igence your illustrious phrase, ' Why need I longer delay ? 
 Nor will I!' allow me to present," holding his companion 
 gallantly by the hand and making a sweeping bow by her 
 side, " Mrs. William Dibbs, formerly Miss Charitina Ster- 
 ritina a lady whose transcendent beauty, sterling cha 
 racter, diversified culture and comprehensive mind shine 
 with immeasurably increased lustre by comparison with 
 the intellectual, moral and physical deficiencies of yours 
 truly, the fortunate bridegroom." 
 
 " Mrs. William Dibbs," said the lawyer, advancing with 
 his bland smile of yore and holding the blushing bride's 
 hand in his oily grasp, " I congratulate you most sincerely 
 upon having formed a matrimonial connection with not 
 only a congenial spirit, but with one of the rising geniuses 
 of the age. Already elected to the legislature from the
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 411 
 
 birthplace of American liberty, I see in the Honorable 
 AVilliam Dibbs one early and fast becoming fitted for 
 positions of national trust and emolumemt." 
 
 "Emolument is good excellent!" rejoined Dibbs, lay 
 ing his hand solemnly upon his heart, and looking with a 
 grotesque wink at the lawyer. " I do indeed yearn to 
 serve my country in a fiduciary capacity, and I will make 
 any personal sacrifices for any emolument she might wish 
 to bestow upon my unworthy services. But prithee, most 
 noble female," turning to Mrs Craft and taking her hand, 
 "how fares thy tender barque upon the matrimonial sea? 
 Art thoti sailing under clear blue skies and upon placid, 
 shining waters? or do the black clouds of discontent 
 lower upon the horizon, and the howling wind of discord 
 raise dismal thoughts within thy unquiet soul ? Hast thy 
 marital experience already proved to thee the truth of the 
 celestial William's reflection that 'things sweet to taste 
 prove in digestion sour ' ? or art thou serenely happy in 
 the company of thy noble lord?" 
 
 " Oh, we are very, very happy, Mr. Dibbs," said Mrs. 
 Craft, smiling sweetly on her astonished husband. "Of 
 course we have our little spats now and then, as the best 
 of people will, you know. But we are learning each 
 other's ways very fast, Mr. Dibbs." 
 
 " I venture the assertion," said Mrs. Dibbs with a little 
 gush of energy as she cast a languishing glance on the 
 lawyer that made his eyes sparkle, "that it would require 
 a decidedly combustible disposition to disagree with Mr. 
 Craft. He has certainly the most heavenly look of resig 
 nation that could exist this side of the heavenly portals. 
 Oh, \Yilliam," clasping the arm of her husband and gaz 
 ing up into his eyes with intense adoration, "if you could 
 only add that serene smile to your multitudinous accom 
 plishments, what a paradox you would be !" 
 
 " Paragon, my dear," whispered Dibbs, playfully chuck 
 ing her under the chin. " Remember the dictionary, dar 
 ling; select your words with precision. Hem !" address 
 ing the lawyer. " You must pardon for the present, 
 most worthy counselor, any technical errors in my beloved 
 Charitina's vocabulary. Sublunary perfection is ever im 
 possible. The wisest men are not always wise, neither are
 
 412 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 the learned free from error. Allow me to observe that in 
 the attainment of rhetorical effects in English and the 
 acquisition of French and German this sweet multiplier 
 of my joys has demonstrated herself as a being of rare 
 linguistic abilities. Ay, and in the exclusive social circles 
 of the great metropolis she is making progress as wonder 
 ful as the beauty of her countenance and the capacity of 
 her intellect. Already her vision fails to recognize old 
 acquaintances, and with a pug nestling in her lovely arms 
 she paces the street with the lofty step of a Juno, her gor 
 geous attire the envy of the entire female population. 
 But why need I longer delay ? Nor will I. Now that 
 congratulations are over, let us proceed to interchange 
 items of news and observation." 
 
 " First, pray be seated," said the lawyer, gallantly lead 
 ing Mrs. Dibbs to a chair close beside his own. "And 
 before we proceed farther, let me say that the Honorable 
 "\Yiilia in Dibbs and his accomplished wife are welcome to 
 Sunlight Cottage, the appropriate designation we have 
 conferred upon our happy home. 7 ' 
 
 "So very happy!" murmured Mrs. Craft, casting a 
 glittering smile on the lawyer, which he covertly returned 
 with a mocking leer. 
 
 " First impart to me the local news," said Dibbs. " Is 
 it true that you have sold the Green Tree Inn ? So the 
 affable clerk informed us as we registered our names 
 for a temporary sojourn." 
 
 " Yos, and a very poor price we got for it too. But 
 Mr. Craft, you know, Mr. Dibbs, was ahvays a poor hand 
 at bargains," quickly answered the woman in a mild, 
 even voice. 
 
 " True !" laughed the 1 lawyer, with his smile still bland. 
 " I know one very bad bargain I made in fact, the worst 
 of my life. But then, in certain matters, men are not so 
 bright as women, Mr. Dibbs. You comprehend ?" 
 
 " ' Oui, monsieur,' as my linguistic and cultured wife 
 would say," rejoined Dibbs, exchanging sly winks wi.h 
 the lawyer. " This was evidently a case in which your 
 legal acumen was of no avail to evade the issue. Yes, 
 yes !" with a serio-comic air ; "I can see how feeble was 
 your defence. I apprehend how speedily the case was
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 413 
 
 pushed through its cumulated phases, and I opine how 
 unexpectedly you discovered yourself the innocent sub 
 ject of a declaration, instantly followed by a replication, 
 succeeded by a sur-rejoinder, which in turn gave place to 
 a sur-rebuttal. At last you were inevitably, teetotally and 
 finally quashed by the aforesaid uxorial plaintiff. But 
 tell me, now that we are on the subject of marriage, how 
 comes on Pat Doyle in his new and similar relations ?" 
 
 " It is exhilarating to behold the Irishman's happiness," 
 replied Craft. "The old miser would scarcely recognize 
 his hut were he to see it now. Pat and his smart little 
 wife have made the place bloom and blossom like a gar 
 den in'the desert. It was a very generous action on the 
 part of the former Miss Loyd to buy the place from the 
 miser's trustees and present it to Pat. The furniture, you 
 remember, was given to Doyle by the miser's own daugh 
 ter. Well, Pat and his wife are exceedingly happy now. 
 It was only this morning I met him coming into town with 
 a load of vegetables. 
 
 " ' How goes the honeymoon? Is it over yet?' I called 
 out to him. 
 
 "'Over, is it?' said he. 'Throth, it's jist wid me at its 
 height, I'm thinkin'. An' it's 'honey dear' she be say in' 
 to me all day long wid her sweet lips. But, faix, it's in 
 moighty dread I am o' the day when the little desaiver 
 will be call in' me ' owld beeswax.' For indade the sweet 
 craythurs have a power o' contradicshun in them.' '' 
 
 "Doyle is right," laughed Dibbs as the lawyer finished 
 speaking with a little tantalizing smile at Mrs. Craft. 
 "The female mind is sublimely erratic, smiling in its 
 tears and weeping in its laughter." 
 
 "Friend Dibbs," asked Craft, suddenly changing the 
 subject, " is it true that the woman we supposed to be 
 Miss Loyd was not only an heiress, but the real mother 
 of Volney Slade, and the legal wife of Seth Slade, who 
 died in the hospital of wounds inflicted by Grundle's 
 
 dog?'; 
 
 '' Yes, all that is true, and more too," replied Dibbs, 
 " which I will tell you in a few plain words, for simple 
 diction best suits narration. The day following the death 
 of Seth Slade I went with Miss Loyd to the village
 
 414 AS IT MA Y HAPPEN. 
 
 of . There we gained access to the church register, 
 
 in which was recorded the marriage of Agnes \Vliarton 
 to Seth Slade by the rector, who, by the way, was still liv 
 ing. You can judge of our .surprise when the clergyman 
 informed us that he had been several years endeavoring 
 to find out the whereabouts of this Agnes Wharton, in re 
 sponse to a letter of inquiry he had received a year after 
 this marriage. Upon getting possession of this lettei 1 , we 
 found it to be from a law-firm in Boston, announcing the 
 death of Miss Wharton's father, and that under the will 
 she was sole heir 'to his fortune. A big fortune it is 
 as nearly as I can find out, about half a million of dol 
 lars." 
 
 "Whew!" exclaimed the lawyer; "what a desirable 
 woman ! The fellow will be fortunate who treads life's 
 vale with her lovely image smiling upon his care-worn 
 face. How came she to change her name to Aziel Loyd ? 
 She never did look like a servant : I always said that." 
 
 " It's a short and a bad story, but not for her," re 
 sumed Dibbs. "You see, Seth Slade was a perfect scoun 
 drel, and the first thing Agnes knew he had married the 
 woman who subsequently came to Slowville as Mrs. Gag- 
 ger. By her lather's will this woman was to inherit a 
 large fortune if she married and had a son. Slade, know 
 ing this, wedded her for no other purpose than to get pos 
 session of the fortune and desert her. She did have a son, 
 but he died the night of his birth. For this dead babe 
 Slade substituted his own child by Agnes AVharton, com 
 pelling her, under the lie that they had not been lawfully 
 married, to surrender her child for this purpose, and act 
 ually bringing her into the house as the child's nurse 
 under the assumed name of Aziel Loyd." 
 
 "The dastardly villain !" ejaculated Mrs. Dibbs. 
 
 " The hypocritical fiend !" echoed Mrs. Craft. 
 
 "How does Yolney Slade fancy his newly-fo.uml 
 mother ?" asked the lawyer. 
 
 " Why, he told me himself that he had always loved her 
 far more than he had his reputed mother. He ought to 
 now if he never did before, for she has bought him 
 Marsh's mill, which was recently sold under the bank 
 rupt law, and Yolney is making a small fortune every
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 415 
 
 day. There will be no more strikes at that mill with 
 Volney Slade managing affairs. The workmen swear by 
 him as stoutly now as they cursed old Marsh before he 
 went up in his financial balloon." 
 
 "How did it happen that old Gagger left all his money 
 to his wife?" further questioned Craft. " I was greatly 
 surprised at that." 
 
 " Why, it was just like him," laughed Dibbs. " What 
 you would not expect him to do, that very thing he was 
 sure to do. Yes, he left every cent of his property to his 
 wife. He had the will drawn the very day before he 
 died. Just as he breathed his last he pulled the will out 
 from under his pillow and said to his wife : ' Here's a sur 
 prise for you. Good-bye !' But Mrs. Gagger did not 
 keep all this money to herself. She gave fifty thousand 
 of it to Silas Gagger Howe, the old man's nephew, who 
 married Harriet Marsh last week." 
 
 " Willie dear, do tell now about the miser and the dog 
 and the sweet, sweet Emily," said his wife, as Dibbs 
 paused to debate what thread of the story he should next 
 take up. 
 
 "Yes, that will be a fitting end to the narrative," he 
 resumed. "Well," addressing himself to the others, "as 
 you already know, Nicholas Grundle was John Sterrit, 
 and Emily was his daughter. It appears that when Emily 
 was four years old John Sterrit, who was somewhat ad 
 vanced in years, and had always been weak-headed on the 
 subject of a child and heir, conceived the idea of running 
 away with his child and hiding her, himself and his for 
 tune from the world. He did so, taking the name of 
 Nicholas Grundle; and had he not been robbed by Set h 
 Slade, he might be living here yet in that old wayside hut. 
 But that robbery was the means of Nicholas Grundle re 
 storing his child to her mother and himself to his wife. 
 Ah ! he is a miserable wreck of a man now crazy as he 
 can be. Sits all day long in his chair counting pieces of 
 money they give him to play with, and talking in whis 
 pers to the dog Caesar about a tall man with a black beard. 
 He has no idea that Seth Slade is dead, or that nearly all 
 the stolen money was recovered. He did not even recog 
 nize his own regained property when it was shown him.
 
 416 AS IT MAY HAPPEN. 
 
 "Well, so goes the world. It is a struggle to make money 
 a struggle to keep it ; and while a man is doing either, 
 he drops into the grave without a dollar of it all. 
 
 " But to conclude. In two adjoining big brownstone 
 houses in the metropolis are residing the subjects of this 
 brief biographical sketch. Mrs. Gagger and Aziel Loyd, 
 that was, preside over one mansion, and in the other are 
 "Volney and his wife, Mrs. Sterrit, crazy old Sterrit and 
 the dog Cffisar." 
 
 " Now do tell us about yourself, Mr. Dibbs," interrupted 
 Mrs. Craft with a solicitous smile. " Is it true that Mrs. 
 Slade I mean she who passed here as Aziel Loyd gave 
 you twenty-five thousand dollars?" 
 
 "That is the identical sum, my dear madam, that Mrs. 
 Slade, alias Aziel Loyd, alias Agnes Wharton, bestowed 
 upon yours truly because of his former sympathetic friend 
 ship. There was but one condition connected with this 
 generous gift namely, that I should permanently leave 
 the saloon-business." 
 
 " Did you give it up?" 
 
 " Most assuredly," replied Dibbs with emphasis, " did I 
 retire from the public manipulation of manly beverages. 
 I bestowed the Hora Bibendi as a free gift upon Lanty 
 Joy, and forthwith gave my unremitting attention to poli 
 tics. As your husband previously remarked, I am now 
 a member-elect of the legislature; to speak even more 
 comprehensively, a patriot ready and willing to shed his 
 blood for his country's good. If you have any little 
 bill for the suppression of matrimonial infelicities which 
 you wish our noble body of lawmakers to consider, my 
 dear madam, please command my services without the 
 usual preliminary quid pro quo. But," rising and gal 
 lantly looking at his wife, " the night draws on apace. 
 The eyelids of the bride grow heavy. Spike hops un- 
 easilv about his cage for our return. Come, beauteous 
 bride! Let us hence beneath the glittering midnight 
 sky, where stars shine not so brightly as thine liquid 
 eyes, nor moon so softly as the smile playing about thy 
 lovely lips. Adieu, my friends! May our mutual regret 
 at this temporary parting be the earnest of our future 
 friendship !"
 
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