Young Captain Jack; Or, The Son of a Soldier

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  CHAPTER VI.

  MRS. RUTHVEN'S STORY.

  "I am so glad to see you both back, safe and sound!"

  It was Mrs. Alice Ruthven who spoke, as she embraced first her daughterand then Jack.

  "And we are glad enough to get back, mother," answered Marion.

  "I was so frightened, even after Old Ben went after you. We watched thelightning, and when it struck the wreck----" Mrs. Ruthven stoppedspeaking and gave a shiver.

  "We weren't in such very great danger," answered Jack. Then he looked atthe lady curiously.

  "What is it, Jack? You have something on your mind," she said quickly.

  The youth looked at Marian, who turned red.

  "I--I--that is, mother, Jack knows the truth," faltered the girl.

  "The truth?" repeated Mrs. Ruthven slowly.

  "Yes, Marion has told me the truth," said Jack, in as steady a voice ashe could command. "And so I--I--am not your son." He could scarcelyspeak the words.

  "Oh, Jack!" The lady caught him in her arms. "So you know the truth atlast?" She kissed him. "But you are my son, just as if you were my ownflesh and blood. You are not angry at me for keeping this a secret solong? I did it because I did not wish to hurt your feelings."

  "No, I am not angry at you, Mrs. Ruth----"

  "Call me mother, Jack."

  "I am not angry, mother. You have been very kind to me. But it is sostrange! I can't understand it all," and he heaved a deep sigh.

  "You have been a son to me in the past, Jack; I wish you to continue tobe one."

  "But I have no real claim upon you."

  "Yes, you have, for my late husband and myself adopted you."

  "Marion told me that you never heard one word regarding my past."

  "She told the truth. We tried our best, but every effort ended infailure. Your mother called you Jack ere she died, and that was all."

  "What of our clothing? Was none of it marked, or had she nothing in herpocket?"

  "No, the clothing was not marked, and she had nothing in her pocket buta lace handkerchief, also unmarked. That handkerchief I have kept, withthe clothing. And I have also kept a ring she wore upon one of herfingers."

  "Was that marked?"

  "It had been, but it was so worn that we could not make out the marking,nor could the two jewelers by whom we had the ring inspected."

  "I would like to see the ring."

  "I will get it," returned Mrs. Ruthven, and left the room. Soon she cameback with a small jewel casket, from which she took a ring and a verydainty lace handkerchief.

  "Here is the ring," she said, as she passed it over to Jack.

  "It looks like a wedding ring," said the youth, as he gazed at thecirclet of gold.

  "I believe it is a wedding ring."

  Jack looked inside and saw some markings, but all were so faint that itwas impossible to make out more than the figures 1 and 8.

  "Those figures stand for eighteen hundred and something, I imagine,"said Mrs. Ruthven. "They must give the year when your mother wasmarried."

  "I suppose you are right."

  "The ring belongs to you, Jack. I would advise you to be careful of it."

  "If you please, I would like to have you keep it for the present."

  "I will do that willingly."

  The handkerchief was next examined. But it seemed to be without markingsof any kind, and was soon returned to the jewel case along with thering.

  "Now tell me how Marion came to tell you of the past," said Mrs.Ruthven, after putting the jewel case away.

  "I made her tell me the truth," said Jack.

  "But how did you suspect this at first?"

  "Because of something St. John said to Darcy Gilbert."

  "What did he say?"

  "Oh, it doesn't matter much--now, mother. He told Darcy I wasn't yourson."

  "What else did he say?"

  "Oh, I think I had better not say."

  "But you must tell me, Jack; I insist upon knowing."

  "He told Darcy that I was a nobody, and that I would have to go awaysome day."

  At these words Mrs. Ruthven's face flushed angrily.

  "St. John is taking too much upon his shoulders," she cried. "This is nobusiness of his."

  "I may be a nobody, but, but"--Jack stammered--"if he says anything tome, I am afraid there will be a row."

  "He shall not say anything to you. I will speak to him about this. Leaveit all to me."

  "But he shall not insult me," said Jack sturdily.

  Marion had left the apartment, to change her clothing, so she did nothear what was said about St. John. A few words more on the subjectpassed between the lady of the plantation and the youth, and then thetalk shifted back to Jack's past.

  "Some day I am going to find out who I am." said the boy. "There must besome way to do this."

  "Are you then so anxious to leave me, Jack?" asked Mrs. Ruthven, and thetears sprang into her eyes.

  "No, no, mother; I will not leave you so long as you wish me to stay!"he exclaimed. "It isn't that. But this mystery of the past must besolved."

  "Well, I will help you all I can. But do not hope for too much, my boy,or you may be disappointed," and then she embraced him again.

  Running up to his bedroom, Jack quickly changed the suit which had beensoaked the night before for a better one, and then came below again. Hehardly knew what to do with himself. The news had set his head in awhirl. At last he decided to go out riding on a pony Mrs. Ruthven hadgiven him a few weeks before.

  The pony was soon saddled by one of the stable hands, and Jack set offon a level road running between the two Ruthven plantations. At first hethought to ask Marion to accompany him, but then decided that he was inno humor to have anybody along.

  "I must think this out by myself," was the way he reasoned, and set offat a brisk pace under the wide-spreading trees.

  He was less than quarter of a mile away from home when he came face toface with St. John, who was returning from his visit to Old Ben'sboathouse.

  As the two riders approached each other, the young man glared darkly atour hero.

  "Hullo, where are you bound?" he demanded sharply.

  "I don't think that is any of your business, St. John," replied Jack,who was just then in no humor to be polite.

  "Humph! you needn't get on your high horse about it!"

  "I am not on a high horse, only on a small pony."

  "Don't joke me, Jack--I don't like it."

  "As you please, St. John."

  "What's got into you this morning?" demanded the young man curiously.

  "Well, if you want to know, I don't like the way you have been talkingabout me."

  "Oho! so that is how the wind blows."

  "You have taken the pains to call me a nobody," went on Jack hotly.

  "I told the truth, didn't I?"

  "I consider myself just as good as you, St. John Ruthven."

  "Do you indeed!" sneered the spendthrift.

  "I do indeed, and in the future I will thank you to be more careful ofwhat you say about me."

  "I have a right to tell the truth to anybody I please."

  "I don't deny that. But I consider my blood just as good as yours."

  "Do you? I don't."

  "Your opinion isn't worth anything to me."

  "Humph! still riding a high horse, I see. Let me tell you, you are nothalf as good as a Ruthven, and never will be. How my aunt could take youin is a mystery to me."

  "She is not as hard-hearted as you are."

  "She is very foolish."

  "She is my foster mother, and I'll thank you to speak respectfully ofher," cried Jack, his eyes flashing.

  "Of course you'll stick by her--as long as she'll let you. You have anice ax to grind."

  "I don't understand your last words."

  "She owns considerable property, and you will try to get a big share ofit for yourself, when she dies."

  "I have never given her property a thought. I want only what isrightf
ully coming to me."

  "There is nothing coming to you by right. The property ought to go toMarion and the other Ruthvens."

  "By other Ruthvens I suppose you mean yourself."

  "I am one of them."

  "Are you so anxious to get hold of my aunt's plantation?"

  "I don't want to see my aunt waste it on such a low upstart as you!"

  Jack's eyes flashed fire, and riding close to St. John he held up hislittle riding whip.

  "You shan't call me an upstart!" he ejaculated. "Take it back, or I'llhit you with this!"

  "You won't dare to touch me!" howled St. John in a rage. "You are anupstart, and worse, to my way of thinking."

  Scarcely had the words left his lips when Jack brought down the ridingwhip across the young man's shoulders and neck, leaving a livid red markbehind.

  "Oh!" howled the spendthrift, and gave a jerk backward on the reins,which brought his horse up on his hind legs. "How dare you! I'll--I'llkill you for that!"

  "Do you take it back or not?" went on Jack, raising the whip again.

  Instead of replying St. John reached over to hit the youth with his ownwhip. But Jack dodged, and then struck out a second time. The blowlanded upon St. John's hand, and he jerked back quickly. The movementscared the horse, and the animal plunged so violently that the rider wasthrown from the saddle into some nearby bushes. Then the horse gallopedaway, leaving St. John to his fate.