Part 33 (1/2)

Yet he started back, his face was pale. The doctor noticed the agitation and sought the cause. Young Allison was staring at tattoo marks on the right arm of the body. These represented a closed hand gripping a sword. Rodney had seen the exact counterpart of that on the right arm of little Louis, who had told him, ”Papa put it there!”

CHAPTER XXIX

WHAT THE PACKAGE CONTAINED

”What's the trouble here, Rodney?” asked Angus, shouldering his way in through a throng of the curious, a.s.sembled about the door of the cabin.

The hearty voice of his friend helped Rodney to collect himself.

”There has been a sudden death; he was a man I knew,” he replied.

”I reckon you've lost a good friend,” said Angus, when he saw the face of the figure on the couch. ”He certain sure did you a good turn.”

Rodney's look showed that he wondered just what his friend meant. He was not aware that Angus knew the man.

Seeing that Rodney seemed puzzled, Angus said: ”Why, that time he euchred old Denham. You told me then ye didn't know him.”

”What do you mean? This the man who paid off the mortgage? Oh! if I had known that!”

It all came to Rodney Allison, as light comes to one who has been blind, and is made to see. This man, instead of a knave, had been his friend! He had won the money in gambling that it might be used for a right purpose. He had so used it, and taken from his own purse as well. The sense of having done an injustice is very bitter when the injured has pa.s.sed beyond one's power to atone!

When everything had been done that might be, and Allison and McGregor were walking away, the latter said: ”I've found a feller as is lookin'

fer a good horse. He saw Nat when you rode in this mornin' an' he asked no end o' questions, whar ye lived, how ter git thar an' said he was thinkin' o' buyin'. I 'lowed as how 'twould take a tote o' money ter buy. Thar goes the identical minion o' King George, now.”

Rodney looked in the direction indicated. ”That knave!” he exclaimed.

”I'd never sell Nat to him if I needed the money to buy bread.”

”Don't like his looks, eh? Yer powerful fussy. He ain't the best lookin' feller I ever did see, but I reckon his money's good.”

The other made no reply. He could not explain his antipathy to Mogridge, for it was he whom Angus had pointed out. So he's here, thought Rodney, wondering what he could want with a horse.

Allison was not an unduly inquisitive youth, but it may readily be imagined his pulse quickened when he sat down with his mother to open the package which had been given him by the ”Chevalier.” It almost seemed that the man had known he was about to die, though his manner had been so cheerful.

Ah! Here was money--the package had seemed heavy--nearly fifty pounds in all; and here was his gold watch and seal ring and a letter. He quickly opened the letter and read with wonderment in his eyes, and then tears.

”MY DEAR RODNEY:--The man, whose life your father once saved at risk of his own, and whom you again saved from the bullet of a savage, wishes to express his sense of obligations. Please accept the contents of this packet as such an expression, for the obligations themselves cannot be repaid; also what I have tried to provide in the will which you will find enclosed. I would suggest that you consult the lawyer whom you brought to me at my request. Rightly cared for, the inheritance will ensure your mother and sister against want and afford you the chance of which you have been deprived on account of lack of funds. I'm sure you will understand that I do not allude to 'Chance,'

the fickle G.o.ddess of the gaming table, and I have been happy to learn you profited by the lesson I taught you. Had I learned a similar one at your age, that one may not obtain something for nothing and be happy in the possession, I might have been of some service in the world. Instead, my life has been a failure, and that which I am leaving to you was the fruit of the service of my forebears. May you never feel the humiliation of uselessness, of having contributed nothing to the world that was of value!

”The property is in England, and not until the war shall be ended, I presume, will it be possible for you to come into the inheritance. I am leaving no near kindred. My little son died in Canada during my absence; his name was Louis. Elizabeth Danesford's mother I knew when she was a girl and lived in London, and, for her sake, her daughter, had she lived, was to have had the half of what I'm leaving to you.

The estate in England, which Louis would have inherited, reverts to a distant cousin.

”I do not know whether your father ever told of his acquaintance with me, nor what his feelings toward me may have been. Surely, there was ample cause why they should have been unpleasant, but I like to think they were kindly. He loved me despite the sore distress I so often caused him, but when I struck him down, thinking him an enemy, and fled, believing myself a murderer, he must ever after have thought I deserted him. I hope he knows better now.

”After that horrible experience I joined the army in Canada and a year later was married. Louis was born and, after six years of such happiness as one who believes himself a criminal may enjoy, my wife died and Louis went to live with her parents near Lachine. One day I met a man who recognized me and, fearing exposure, I fled to New York, later to Philadelphia and then to Virginia at the outbreak of Dunmore's war. After that I returned to Canada only to learn that Louis had died. It seemed as if a fatality pursued all I loved. I went to England, determined to give myself up to justice, but was astounded to learn that there was no evidence that a crime had been committed. I was told your father did not die but was put aboard s.h.i.+p for the Colonies. Believing that England, however much in fault as to administration, was right in fighting to retain her government over this country, I again entered the army. The day on which I had the serious attack of heart trouble, and called for a.s.sistance and you came, I saw that in your face which told me you must be near of kin to David Cameron. I wonder that I never had noted the resemblance. If you are like him, as I believe, you will not leave the world the poorer for having lived in it, and at the end will not, as I, feel impelled to recall these lines which that wretch Wharton wrote:

”'Be kind to my remains, and oh! defend, Against your judgment, your departed friend.'

”RICHARD W. RALSTON.”