CHAPTER XXVII
CHANGES AND CHANCES
John Marshall Glenarm had probably never been sohappy in his life as on that day of his amazing home-coming.He laughed at us and he laughed with us, andas he went about the house explaining his plans for itscompletion, he chaffed us all with his shrewd humorthat had been the terror of my boyhood.
“Ah, if you had had the plans of course you wouldhave been saved a lot of trouble; but that little sketchof the Door of Bewilderment was the only thing I left,—and you found it, Jack,—you really opened these goodbooks of mine.”
He sent us all away to remove the marks of battle, andwe gave Bates a hand in cleaning up the wreckage,—Bates, the keeper of secrets; Bates, the inscrutable andmysterious; Bates, the real hero of the affair at Glenarm.
He led us through the narrow stairway by which hehad entered, which had been built between false walls,and we played ghost for one another, to show just howthe tread of a human being around the chimney sounded.There was much to explain, and my grandfather’scontrition for having placed me in so hazardous a predicamentwas so sincere, and his wish to make amendsso evident, that my heart warmed to him. He made medescribe in detail all the incidents of my stay at thehouse, listening with boyish delight to my adventures.
“Bless my soul!” he exclaimed over and over again.And as I brought my two friends into the story his delightknew no bounds, and he kept chuckling to himself;and insisted half a dozen times on shaking hands withLarry and Stoddard, who were, he declared, his friendsas well as mine.
The prisoner in the potato cellar received our due attention;and my grandfather’s joy in the fact that anagent of the British government was held captive inGlenarm House was cheering to see. But the man’s detentionwas a grave matter, as we all realized, and madeimperative the immediate consideration of Larry’s future.
“I must go—and go at once!” declared Larry.
“Mr. Donovan, I should feel honored to have you remain,”said my grandfather. “I hope to hold Jackhere, and I wish you would share the house with us.”
“The sheriff and those fellows won’t squeal very hardabout their performances here,” said Stoddard. “Andthey won’t try to rescue the prisoner, even for a reward,from a house where the dead come back to life.”
“No; but you can’t hold a British prisoner in anAmerican private house for ever. Too many peopleknow he has been in this part of the country; and youmay be sure that the fight here and the return of Mr.Glenarm will not fail of large advertisement. All I canask of you, Mr. Glenarm, is that you hold the fellow afew hours after I leave, to give me a start.”
“Certainly. But when this trouble of yours blowsover, I hope you will come back and help Jack to livea decent and orderly life.”
My grandfather spoke of my remaining with awarmth that was grateful to my heart; but the place andits associations had grown unbearable. I had not mentionedMarian Devereux to him, I had not told him ofmy Christmas flight to Cincinnati; for the fact that Ihad run away and forfeited my right made no differencenow, and I waited for an opportunity when we shouldbe alone to talk of my own affairs.
At luncheon, delayed until mid-afternoon, Bates producedchampagne, and the three of us, worn with excitementand stress of battle, drank a toast, standing, to thehealth of John Marshall Glenarm.
“My friends,”—the old gentleman rose and we allstood, our eyes bent upon him in, I think, real affection,—“I am an old and foolish man. Ever since I wasable to do so I have indulged my whims. This houseis one of them. I had wished to make it a thing ofbeauty and dignity, and I had hoped that Jack wouldcare for it and be willing to complete it and settle here.The means I employed to test him were not, I admit,worthy of a man who intends well toward his own fleshand blood. Those African adventures of yours scaredme, Jack; but to think”—and he laughed—“that Iplaced you here in this peaceful place amid greater dangersprobably than you ever met in tiger-hunting! Butyou have put me to shame. Here’s health and peace toyou!”
“So say we all!” cried the others.
“One thing more,” my grandfather continued, “I don’twant you to think, Jack, that you would really havebeen cut off under any circumstances if I had died whileI was hiding in Egypt. What I wanted, boy, was toget you home! I made another will in England, whereI deposited the bulk of my property before I died, anddid not forget you. That will was to protect you in caseI really died!”—and he laughed cheerily.
The others left us—Stoddard to help Larry get histhings together—and my grandfather and I talked foran hour at the table.
“I have thought that many things might happenhere,” I said, watching his fine, slim fingers, as he polishedhis eye-glasses, then rested his elbows on the tableand smiled at me. “I thought for a while that I shouldcertainly be shot; then at times I was afraid I mightnot be; but your return in the flesh was something Inever considered among the possibilities. Bates fooledme. That talk I overheard between him and Pickeringin the church porch that foggy night was the thing thatseemed to settle his case; then the next thing I knew hewas defending the house at the serious risk of his life;and I was more puzzled than ever.”
“Yes, a wonderful man, Bates. He always dislikedPickering, and he rejoiced in tricking him.”
“Where did you pick Bates up? He told me he wasa Yankee, but he doesn’t act or talk it.”
My grandfather laughed. “Of course not! He’s anIrishman and a man of education—but that’s all I knowabout him, except that he is a marvelously efficient servant.”
My mind was not on Bates. I was thinking now ofMarian Devereux. I could not go on further with mygrandfather without telling him how I had run awayand broken faith with him, but he gave me no chance.
“You will stay on here,—you will help me to finishthe house?” he asked with an unmistakable eagernessof look and tone.
It seemed harsh and ungenerous to tell him that Iwished to go; that the great world lay beyond the confinesof Glenarm for me to conquer; that I had lost aswell as gained by those few months at Glenarm House,and wished to go away. It was not the mystery, nowfathomed, nor the struggle, now ended, that was uppermostin my mind and heart, but memories of a girlwho had mocked me with delicious girlish laughter,—who had led me away that I might see her transformedinto another, more charming, being. It was a comfortto know that Pickering, trapped and defeated, was notto benefit by the bold trick she had helped him play uponme. His loss was hers as well, and I was glad in mybitterness that I had found her in the passage, seekingfor plunder at the behest of the same master whom Morgan,Ferguson and the rest of them served.
The fight was over and there was nothing more for meto do in the house by the lake. After a week or so Ishould go forth and try to win a place for myself. Ihad my profession; I was an engineer, and I did notquestion that I should be able to find employment. Asfor my grandfather, Bates would care for him, and Ishould visit him often. I was resolved not to give himany further cause for anxiety on account of my adventurousand roving ways. He knew well enough that hisold hope of making an architect of me was lost beyondredemption—I had told him that—and now I wished todepart in peace and go to some new part of the world,where there were lines to run, tracks to lay and bridgesto build.
These thoughts so filled my mind that I forgot hewas patiently waiting for my answer.
“I should like to do anything you ask; I should liketo stay here always, but I can’t. Don’t misunderstandme. I have no intention of going back to my old ways.I squandered enough money in my wanderings, and Ihad my joy of that kind of thing. I shall find employmentsomewhere and go to work.”
“But, Jack,”—he bent toward me kindly,—“Jack, youmustn’t be led away by any mere quixotism into layingthe foundation of your own fortune. What I have isyours, boy. What is in the box in the chimney is yoursnow—to-day.”
“I wish you wouldn’t! You were always too kind,and I deserve nothing, absolutely nothing.”
“I’m not trying to pay you, Jack. I want to ease myow
n conscience, that’s all.”
“But money can do nothing for mine,” I replied, tryingto smile. “I’ve been dependent all my days, andnow I’m going to work. If you were infirm and neededme, I should not hesitate, but the world will have itseyes on me now.”
“Jack, that will of mine did you a great wrong; itput a mark upon you, and that’s what hurts me, that’swhat I want to make amends for! Don’t you see? Nowdon’t punish me, boy. Come! Let us be friends!”
He rose and put out his hands.
“I didn’t mean that! I don’t care about that! Itwas nothing more than I deserved. These months herehave changed me. Haven’t you heard me say I was goingto work?”
And I tried to laugh away further discussion of myfuture.
“It will be more cheerful here in the spring,” he said,as though seeking an inducement for me to remain.“When the resort colony down here comes to life thelake is really gay.”
I shook my head. The lake, that pretty cupful ofwater, the dip and glide of a certain canoe, the remembranceof a red tam-o’-shanter merging afar off in anOctober sunset—my purpose to leave the place strengthenedas I thought of these things. My nerves werekeyed to a breaking pitch and I turned upon him stormily.
“So Miss Devereux was the other person who sharedyour confidence! Do you understand,—do you appreciatethe fact that she was Pickering’s ally?”
“I certainly do not,” he replied coldly. “I’m surprisedto hear you speak so of a woman whom you canscarcely know—”
“Yes, I know her; my God, I have reason to know her!But even when I found her out I did not dream thatthe plot was as deep as it is. She knew that it was ascheme to test me, and she played me into Pickering’shands. I saw her only a few nights ago down there inthe tunnel acting as his spy, looking for the lost notesthat she might gain grace in his eyes by turning themover to him. You know I always hated Pickering,—hewas too smooth, too smug, and you and everybody elsewere for ever praising him to me. He was always heldup to me as a model; and the first time I saw MarianDevereux she was with him—it was at Sherry’s the nightbefore I came here. I suppose she reached St. Agatha’sonly a few hours ahead of me.”
“Yes. Sister Theresa was her guardian. Her fatherwas a dear friend, and I knew her from her early childhood.You are mistaken, Jack. Her knowing Pickeringmeans nothing,—they both lived in New York andmoved in the same circle.”
“But it doesn’t explain her efforts to help him, doesit?” I blazed. “He wished to marry her,—SisterTheresa told me that,—and I failed, I failed miserablyto keep my obligation here—I ran away to follow her!”
“Ah, to be sure! You were away Christmas Eve,when those vandals broke in. Bates merely mentionedit in the last report I got as I came through New York.That was all right. I assumed, of course, that you hadgone off somewhere to get a little Christmas cheer; Idon’t care anything about it.”
“But I had followed her—I went to Cincinnati to seeher. She dared me to come—it was a trick, a part ofthe conspiracy to steal your property.”
The old gentleman smiled. It was a familiar way ofhis, to grow calm as other people waxed angry.
“She dared you to come, did she! That is quite likeMarian; but you didn’t have to go, did you, Jack?”
“Of course not; of course I didn’t have to go, but—”
I stammered, faltered and ceased. Memory threwopen her portals with a challenge. I saw her on thestairway at the Armstrongs’; I heard her low, softlaughter, I felt the mockery of her voice and eyes! Iknew again the exquisite delight of being near her. Myheart told me well enough why I had followed her.
“Jack, I’m glad I’m not buried up there in that Vermontgraveyard with nobody to exercise the right ofguardianship over you. I’ve had my misgivings aboutyou; I used to think you were a born tramp; and you disappointedme in turning your back on architecture,—thenoblest of all professions; but this performance of yoursreally beats them all. Don’t you know that a girl likeMarian Devereux isn’t likely to become the agent of anyrascal? Do you really believe for a minute that shetempted you to follow her, so you might forfeit yourrights to my property?”
“But why was she trying to find those notes of his?Why did she come back from Cincinnati with his party?If you could answer me those things, maybe I’d admitthat I’m a fool. Pickering, I imagine, is a pretty plausiblefellow where women are concerned.”
“For God’s sake, Jack, don’t speak of that girl aswomen! I put her in that will of mine to pique yourcuriosity, knowing that if there was a penalty on yourmarrying her you would be wholly likely to do it,—forthat’s the way human beings are made. But you’vemixed it all up now, and insulted her in the grossestway possible for a fellow who is really a gentleman. AndI don’t want to lose you; I want you here with me,Jack! This is a beautiful country, this Indiana!And what I want to do is to found an estate, tobuild a house that shall be really beautiful,—somethingthese people hereabouts can be proud of,—and I want you to have it with me, Jack, tolink our name to these woods and that pretty lake. I’drather have that for my neighbor than any lake in Scotland.These rich Americans, who go to England to live,don’t appreciate the beauty of their own country. Thislandscape is worthy of the best that man can do. AndI didn’t undertake to build a crazy house so much asone that should have some dignity and character. Thatpassage around the chimney is an indulgence, Jack,—I’ll admit it’s a little bizarre,—you see that chimneyisn’t so big outside as it is in!”—and he laughed andrubbed his knees with the palms of his hands,—“and mybringing foreign laborers here wasn’t really to make iteasier to get things done my way. Wait till you haveseen the May-apples blossom and heard the robins singin the summer twilight,—help me to finish the house,—then if you want to leave I’ll bid you God-speed.”
The feeling in his tone, the display of sentiment soat variance with my old notion of him, touched me inspite of myself. There was a characteristic nobility anddignity in his plan; it was worthy of him. And I hadnever loved him as now, when he finished this appeal,and turned away to the window, gazing out upon thesomber woodland.
“Mr. Donovan is ready to go, sir,” announced Batesat the door, and we went into the library, where Larryand Stoddard were waiting.