Part 42 (1/2)

”To your fidelity to your affianced,” Morton replied, ”under the rather adverse circ.u.mstances 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 n.o.body 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 sh.o.r.e 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 ident.i.ty.

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 friends.h.i.+p and love.”