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The Award of Justice; Told in the Rockies, a novel by A. Maynard Barbour |
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Chapter 38 |
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_ CHAPTER XXXVIII That night the diminutive lamp that did duty in the room assigned to the two brothers burned till long past the hour of midnight. By its dim light, Ned Rutherford indited a letter to his fiancee, while his brother quietly paced back and forth, the entire length of the small apartment, his hands clasped behind him and his head thrown back,--his usual attitude when in deep thought. "Getting up another article on the application of electric force?" inquired Ned, as he paused to watch his brother. "No," was the reply, "I am thinking at present of a force far more subtle and more powerful than that of electricity." "Why, how's that?" asked Ned in surprise, "I thought electricity was one of your pet hobbies." "Never mind about my pet hobbies," said his brother, with a smile, "just continue your writing for the present." Half an hour later, as Ned folded and sealed the voluminous letter, and placed upon it the long, foreign address, his brother, watching him with a curious half smile, said: "I shall have to give you credit for a great deal of constancy, Ned, more than I really supposed you possessed." "How's that?" asked Ned, with a slight blush, "to what do you refer." "To your fidelity to your affianced," Morton replied, "under the rather adverse circumstances that attend your suit, and notwithstanding the unusual attractions by which you have been surrounded here." "Well, as to that," said Ned, slowly, "I don't know as I deserve so very much credit. Houston appropriated Miss Gladden to himself pretty soon after we came here, and besides, she isn't exactly my style, after all; she would suit Houston a great deal better than me." "Ah," said his brother, quietly, "and what of the younger lady? Perhaps she is not your style, either?" "Well, no, I should say not," Ned replied, with the least perceptible scorn in his tone, "not but what she is a lovely girl, and I respect her, and feel sorry for her, but I should think one glimpse of her family would decide that question, once for all." "Ned," said Morton Rutherford, pausing in his walk, directly in front of his brother, "is it possible that you are so blind as not to see that Miss Maverick, as you call her,--I prefer to call her Lyle,--has no connection whatever with the family in which she lives?" "Do you think so?" Ned inquired, with surprise, "I remember Houston and Miss Gladden expressed the same opinion when I was here before, but I don't think they had any proof that such was the case, and even if it were so, I don't see how it helps the matter much, for nobody knows to what sort of a family she really does belong." "Ned," said his brother, indignantly, "I know nothing of the opinion of Houston or Miss Gladden upon this subject, but where are your own eyes, and where is your reason? If you discovered one of the rarest and most beautiful flowers known to exist in the plant world, in a heap of tailings out here among these mines, would you immediately conclude that, because you had found it there, it must be indigenous to the spot? Look at that girl, and tell me if there is one trace in feature, in form, in manner, or in speech, of plebeian blood, and then will you tell me that she is in any way connected with people such as these? They are not merely plebeian, they are low, debased, criminal. They are criminals of the deepest dye, not only capable of any villainy, but already guilty, and to such a degree that their guilt has made them shrinking, skulking cowards." "But, Mort, if you are correct, and I don't say that you are not, how does she come to be in such a place as this, with no memory of anything different?" "Through the villainy of that man whom you pointed out to me as her father; through his villainy, and in no other way." "You think she was stolen?" "I do; I can see in his face that he has committed some terrible crime,--perhaps many of them,--and he is afraid to look a stranger in the eye; and a glance at that beautiful girl is enough to fasten upon him one of his crimes. She is from a family whose blood is as pure from any taint, physical, mental, or moral, as is your own, and unless I am greatly mistaken, she is not wholly unconscious of this herself." "Great Heavens!" exclaimed the younger brother, "I never dreamed of all this! If it is really as you think, I only wish we could find her true home, and have her restored to it, and make that scoundrel suffer for his crime." "If it is among the possibilities, it shall be done," said Morton Rutherford, quietly, but in a tone which startled Ned with its volume of meaning. The latter looked up in quick surprise, a question on his lips, but he knew his brother's face too well; the question was not asked, and he only said: "Good for you, Mort, and here's my hand; I'm with you on this, whatever you do." For the next few days, nothing of any special import occurred at the camp. Houston, soon after the arrival of Morton and Ned Rutherford, had written to his uncle that preparations were now about completed, and everything was so nearly in readiness that he and his party had better come out immediately to one of the western cities, from which they could be summoned by telegraph on short notice. Accordingly, Mr. Cameron had already left New York, and in company with his attorney and the English expert, was now on his way west, Mrs. Cameron also accompanying him as far west as Chicago, where she was to stop with friends while he went on to the mines, as she had insisted that she would feel much happier to be nearer her husband and Everard, so that she could more easily reach them in the event of any trouble at the mines. Van Dorn was progressing well with his work, and the machine would soon be ready for its trial test, though he said he would in all probability first have to go to Silver City, in order to have replaced one or two small but important parts which had been broken in the long, westward journey. Lyle, in the midst of the strange happiness which had lately come to her heart, had not forgotten her resolve to search for the proofs, of such importance to her. On the contrary, she had now a new and powerful incentive which gave additional zest to her efforts, although, thus far, they had proved unsuccessful. One afternoon, after having made a particularly thorough but fruitless search, she stole quietly out of the house, and following the little path along the shore of the lake, soon found herself in her favorite retreat among the rocks, a secluded place from which there was no sign of human habitation; only the mountains in their vast solitudes were visible, their silent grandeur more eloquent than words. It was a spot that she had loved even in her childhood, and which had, in later years, been her resort for study and reflection. In a brief interview with Jack, at the cabin, the previous evening, she had told him of her increasingly distinct recollections of her mother, of the angry words between Maverick and his wife which she had overheard, and of her search which she felt would yet result in her obtaining possession of the necessary proofs of her identity. To her surprise, Jack, while commending the course which she was taking, yet seemed strangely averse to talking much with her upon the subject. At last, as she was leaving the cabin, he had taken her hands in his, saying, in a strangely tender tone: "My dear Lyle, because I say little, you must not think I take no interest in this affair which concerns you so closely. I am deeply interested, more deeply than you will probably ever know, but it is for many reasons a painful subject to me, one full of bitter memories; but I have one favor to ask of you, my dear child, which I know you will grant for the sake of the memory of the happy hours we have spent together,--it is this; that whatever proof you may succeed in finding, you will first bring to me." "Certainly I will, dear Jack," Lyle had replied, wondering at his manner, "in whom should I confide if not in you, who have been my first and best friend." And he, his dark, piercing eyes looking into the depths of her own, their gaze softened by tender affection, had replied: "Yes, your friend always, Lyle, remember that; none truer or more devoted to you or your welfare; but before long, my dear, your heart will learn, if it has not learned already, the difference between friendship and love." With burning cheeks and tearful eyes Lyle recalled his words, and pondered deeply on the strange bond that seemed, in some way, to exist between his life and hers, but the longer she tried to solve the problem, the deeper and more obscure it seemed. In the midst of her reflections, she heard a light step upon the rocky footpath, and looking up, saw Morton Rutherford approaching. So absorbed was he in the study of the masses of rock about him, on which had been traced by the finger of the centuries, in wonderful hieroglyphics, the early history of the earth, that for a time he was unconscious of her presence there. When he saw her he raised his hat and came quickly forward. "I beg your pardon," he said, in deep, musical tones, "I supposed myself alone with my own thoughts; am I intruding? if so, send me away at once." "No, stay, if you please," said Lyle. "Thank you," he answered, seating himself on the rocks at a little distance, "you appeared so lost in thought I feared my coming might annoy you." "No," she replied, "my thoughts were too perplexing, I was growing weary of them." Mr. Rutherford glanced at the surrounding mountains; "Were you, too, trying to fathom the mystery of the eternal hills?" he asked. "No," was her reply, "I have never attempted anything so far beyond me as that; I have found more mysteries in every-day, human life than I could solve." Morton Rutherford was silent for a few moments, then he said in low tones: "I hope you will pardon me when I say, that to me, your own life here, under the existing circumstances and conditions, is a mystery, one which seems capable of but one solution." "And what would be your solution?" she asked quickly. He saw that she understood his meaning, and was watching him intently, eagerly, and he said: "Permit me to reply to your question by asking one in return. Do you not believe that your life had a beginning elsewhere than here, and under far different conditions?" "It is more than a belief with me, it is a certainty, and yet, strange as it may appear to you, this knowledge has come to me but recently, and even now, I know nothing of what those conditions may have been, except that they were totally unlike these that exist here." "You interest me very much are you willing to tell me how you arrived at this knowledge of which you speak?" Very briefly, and without going into details, Lyle, in response to the magnetic sympathy of those dark eyes, gave a vivid outline of her life, and of the vague impressions which of late were becoming distinct recollections, and of her hope of soon finding tangible evidence regarding the life which was daily growing more and more of a reality. Mr. Rutherford listened with intense interest to the strange story, and when she had finished, he said slowly, as he took a short turn up and down the rocky path: "Believe me, I have not listened to this through mere, idle curiosity; much as your story has interested me, it has not surprised me, for I read the truth almost from our first meeting." Lyle gave him a smile of rare sweetness and deep significance; "I am glad to know that," she said simply. "Why so?" he asked, pausing and seating himself beside her; "Did you think I could fail to recognize the soul that looked out to welcome me when I first came, no matter amid what surroundings I found it?" Then, as she remained silent, he continued, his tones thrilling her heart as no human voice had ever done before: "Since the hour that I first met you, Lyle, life has changed for me,--I think perhaps it will never be quite the same again for either of us. I know that I love you with a love that, whether reciprocated or not, can never die; that henceforth, you will be,--you must be,--a part of my very life. Let me care for you and help you; let me help you in your search for the home for which you were created, and of which you are worthy; but, Lyle, before you search any farther for that home, will you not consent to become the queen of my home, as you are already the queen of my heart?" Lyle lifted her head proudly, though the tears glistened on the long, golden lashes; "Do you ask me that, here and now, knowing nothing as yet, of what the future may reveal?" "I do; I have no fear for the future if I but have your love. Do you think that, perhaps, in the days to come, amid other and different surroundings, you might find some one whose love your heart would choose in preference to mine?" "Never!" cried Lyle, impulsively, turning with outstretched arms to him, "You are the only one I have ever loved,--the only one I could ever love!" "Then that is enough for me," he replied, drawing her closely to his breast; "you have come forth from the years of the wretched past, with a soul star-white and shining, and I have no fears for the future." When the little group of friends assembled that evening, it was not long before some one discovered that a small diamond ring, of exquisite, antique design, which Morton Rutherford had worn, had, in some manner, become transferred to Lyle's hand. "Wear this, for the present," he had said, in taking it from his own hand, "until I can obtain a costlier one for you," but Lyle had insisted that once placed upon her hand, there it must remain, as she would prize it far above any other which money could buy; and such had been the final decision. When this significant fact had been discovered by one of the little company, the intelligence was speedily telegraphed to the rest, and Morton and Lyle soon found themselves the recipients of hearty and affectionate congratulations from the others. The astonishment depicted on Ned's face, when he comprehended the turn affairs had taken, was beyond description, but in the little excitement which prevailed for a few moments, it passed unnoticed, so that he had sufficiently recovered himself to join very gracefully in the general congratulations when his turn came. A few hours later, however, as he went out for a stroll with Van Dorn, while his brother and Houston started out in the direction of Jack's cabin, his astonishment found expression. "Great Scott! but I never was so dumfounded in my life! I tell you what, Van, I believe people lose their wits when they are in love!" "On whose experience do you base your highly original remark, your brother's or your own?" "Well, both, and lots of others besides. I never yet saw a person who was in love that didn't act just the reverse of what you would expect, or of what they would under ordinary circumstances. Now, look at us two, for instance. Look at me! Everybody calls me rash and impetuous, and Mort is always lecturing me for it, and it's always my way to rush head-first into anything that comes along, and here I've been making love, in the regular, orthodox fashion, to a girl I've known ever since I wore knickerbockers, and playing propriety and all that to my prospective father-in-law; and now see Mort! the most precise, deliberate fellow you ever saw, never says or does anything that isn't exactly suited to the occasion, you know; and here he goes and tumbles head over heels in love with a pretty girl the first time he sees her, and when he doesn't know a blessed thing about her, and, by George! engages himself to her before he's known her a week! If that isn't a case of clear-gone lunacy, then I never saw one." Van Dorn laughed; "Well, of the two, I should prefer your brother's form of lunacy to yours; if I ever was to be in love, I should want the misery over as quickly as possible." As Houston and his friend, having made a brief call at the cabin, rose to take their leave, the former observed Jack watching Rutherford's face with a degree of interest unusual for him to manifest in a stranger. "I want you and my friend, Rutherford, to know each other the little time he will be here," he said, addressing Jack, "for though I have never known what it was to have a brother in reality, he seems to me to more nearly fill that position than any one I have known, and I have told him of your kindness and assistance, and the strange bond that has seemed to unite us from the first, though we met as strangers, so he naturally wishes to meet you." There was a peculiar quiver of the lips under the heavy, black beard, as Jack replied, in deep, full tones, "Mr. Rutherford's face carries with it its own recommendation, and the fact that he is as a brother to yourself will insure him a double welcome here as often as he pleases to come during his stay." Houston passed onward into the outer room, pausing to chat with Mike, while Morton Rutherford lingered, and extending his hand to Jack, said in low tones: "I have another reason for wishing to meet you. From what Lyle has told me, I know you to have been, until very recently, her only friend, and to you, as to her friend, and perhaps, in one sense, her guardian, I wish to state that I love her, and have been so fortunate as to win her love in return; and that I hope before very long, my home will be hers." "Yes, I know," Jack responded, briefly. "What! has she already told you?" Rutherford asked in surprise. "Only unconsciously; but I read soon after your coming, that her heart was no longer her own." Then grasping Rutherford's hand warmly, he added, in tones vibrating with some deep emotion. "You have chosen better than you know. I believe I can trust her and her happiness in your hands. God bless you both! and may He bless you in proportion to your love and fidelity toward her!" _ |
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