CHAPTER XXVIII
A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER
If I had been in Mattia's place, I should perhaps have had as muchimagination as he, but I felt in my position that it was wrong for me tohave such thoughts. It had been proved beyond a doubt that Mr. Driscollwas my father. I could not look at the matter from the same point ofview as Mattia. He might doubt ... but I must not. When he tried to makeme believe as he did, I told him to be silent. But he was pig-headed andI was not always able to get the better of his obstinacy.
"Why are you dark and all the rest of the family fair?" he would askrepeatedly.
"How was it that poor people could dress their baby in fine laces andembroidery?" was another often repeated question. And I could only replyby putting a question myself.
"Why did they search for me if I was not their child? Why had they givenmoney to Barberin and to Greth and Galley?"
Mattia could find no answer to my question and yet he would not beconvinced.
"I think we should both go back to France," he urged.
"That's impossible."
"Because it's your duty to keep with your family, eh? But is it yourfamily?"
These discussions only had one result, they made me more unhappy than Ihad ever been. How terrible it is to doubt. Yet, in spite of my wish notto doubt, I doubted. Who would have thought when I was crying so sadlybecause I thought I had no family that I should be in such despair nowthat I had one. How could I know the truth? In the meantime I had tosing and dance and laugh and make grimaces when my heart was full.
One Sunday my father told me to stay in the house because he wanted me.He sent Mattia off alone. All the others had gone out; my grandfatheralone was upstairs. I had been with my father for about an hour whenthere was a knock at the door. A gentleman, who was unlike any of themen who usually called on my father, came in. He was about fifty yearsold and dressed in the height of fashion. He had white pointed teethlike a dog and when he smiled he drew his lips back over them as thoughhe was going to bite. He spoke to my father in English, turningcontinually to look at me. Then he began to talk French; he spoke thislanguage with scarcely an accent.
"This is the young boy that you spoke to me about?" he said. "He appearsvery well."
"Answer the gentleman," said my father to me.
"Yes, I am quite well," I replied, surprised.
"You have never been ill?"
"I had pneumonia once."
"Ah, when was that?"
"Three years ago. I slept out in the cold all night. My master, who waswith me, was frozen to death, and I got pneumonia."
"Haven't you felt any effects of this illness since?"
"No."
"No fatigue, no perspiration at night?"
"No. When I'm tired it's because I have walked a lot, but I don't getill."
He came over to me and felt my arms, then put his head on my heart, thenat my back and on my chest, telling me to take deep breaths. He alsotold me to cough. That done he looked at me for a long time. It was thenthat I thought he wanted to bite me, his teeth gleamed in such aterrible smile. A few moments later he left the house with my father.
What did it mean? Did he want to take me in his employ? I should have toleave Mattia and Capi. No, I wouldn't be a servant to anybody, much lessthis man whom I disliked already.
My father returned and told me I could go out if I wished. I went intothe caravan. What was my surprise to find Mattia there. He put hisfinger to his lips.
"Go and open the stable door," he whispered, "I'll go out softly behindyou. They mustn't know that I was here."
I was mystified but I did as he asked.
"Do you know who that man was who was with your father?" he askedexcitedly when we were in the street. "It was Mr. James Milligan, yourfriend's uncle."
I stood staring at him in the middle of the pavement. He took me by thearm and dragged me on.
"I was not going out all alone," he continued, "so I went in there tosleep, but I didn't sleep. Your father and a gentleman came into thestable and I heard all they said; at first I didn't try to listen butafterward I did.
"'Solid as a rock,' said the gentleman; 'nine out of ten would havedied, but he pulled through with pneumonia.'
"'How is your nephew?' asked your father.
"'Better. Three months ago the doctors again gave him up, but his mothersaved him once more. Oh, she's a marvelous mother, is Mrs. Milligan.'
"You can imagine when I heard this name if I did not glue my ears to thewindow.
"'Then if your nephew is better,' continued your father, 'all you'vedone is useless.'
"'For the moment, perhaps,' replied the other, 'but I don't say thatArthur is going to live; it would be a miracle if he did, and I am notafraid of miracles. The day he dies the only heir to that estate will bemyself.'
"'Don't worry; I'll see to that,' said Driscoll.
"'Yes, I count on you,' replied Mr. Milligan."
My first thought was to question my father, but it was not wise to letthem know that they had been overheard. As Mr. Milligan had businesswith my father he would probably come to the house again, and the nexttime, Mattia, whom he did not know, could follow him.
A few days later Mattia met a friend of his, Bob, the Englishman, whomhe had known at the Gassot Circus. I could see by the way he greetedMattia that he was very fond of him. He at once took a liking to Capiand myself. From that day we had a strong friend, who, by his experienceand advice, was of great help to us in time of trouble.