CHAPTER XXVII.
CLEVERDALE'S SORROW.
Gradually the disappearance of George Alden became known aboutCleverdale. His sister, on returning, was greatly shocked to learn ofhis absence. It was thought best by both Senator Hamblin and Belle thatthe cause of his flight should be kept from her, and she was encouragedby both assuring her of his probable restoration to them in the courseof two or three days.
Patiently the two women waited. The Sabbath was gloomy and dismal, fora drizzling rain kept everybody within doors. Monday dawned, Tuesday,Wednesday and Thursday following without the return of the lovedwanderer. The hours passed slowly and sadly, and the lines about theeyes of both women showed plainly that sorrow and grief were almostbursting two hearts.
Since the news of the cashier's departure became known, many inquirieshad been made, and much sympathy expressed for the friends of the youngman. It was feared his brain had become disturbed during his longillness, and that he was wandering about in a weakened condition ofbody as well as mind. One remembered that he appeared abstracted andacted strangely; another recollected passing him without his scarcelyreturning recognition, and many others now brought to their remembrancestrange actions on his part.
As day after day passed the excitement increased, and his disappearancebecame the theme of general conversation. It was singular that no onerecollected his departure on the evening train, the night he left hisnative village.
Senator Hamblin, nervous and filled with great anxiety, wondered whyhis summons had not brought back the fugitive. Many times he took fromhis private drawer the intercepted letters written to his daughter andFannie Alden, and closely examined the assumed name and address, toconvince himself that he had made no mistake in directing his letter.Much of his time was spent at home with his wife and daughter, who sawhis anxiety, but little suspected the double load that weighed him down.Looking upon himself as a criminal, the impending financial ruin, addedto the injury done his own daughter, nearly drove him to desperation. Hescarcely slept during the long, tedious hours of the night, while theday gave him no peace of mind.
Receiving a visit from Mannis, the two men held a consultation for anhour, Senator Hamblin telling of his resolve and determination to makeall reparation in his power for the wrong he had done. The wily Mannispretended to coincide with him, even expressing a mock penitence for thepart he had performed in the affair. So well did he act his role thatSenator Hamblin never suspected the deception that was to make him avictim. He knew nothing of the body lying in the woods, soon to play animportant part in the development of the scheme. Since the change inhimself he began to look upon Mannis as a villain, even congratulatinghimself that fate, more careful of his child's happiness than her ownfather, had made her the wife of George Alden. But when Mannis expressedpenitence for what he had done, Senator Hamblin fell into the error ofbelieving him an honest man. He did not hear the words Mannis whisperedinto Sargent's ear as he passed through the bank:
"The old man trembles, Sargent, and is greatly affected--how he willrip and tear when the fellow in the woods is found! Oh, my!" Both menlaughed, and Mannis left the bank.
Friday was a pleasant day, the excitement being on the increase, forGeorge Alden's disappearance had become still more cause of wonder.About noon, two little boys, greatly frightened and excited, camerunning into the village, exclaiming:
"A man--a dead man--in the woods over there!"
"Where?" inquired a citizen. "Stop and tell me."
The other lad, calming himself, said:
"We were playing in the woods out yonder, and saw a man--looking as ifhe was dead--lying under a tree, and we just ran away, sir."
By this time several other persons gathered about the boys, insistingupon the little fellows leading them to the place where the cause oftheir fright could be found. The lads agreed to go as far as the fenceand point out the spot. The men moved along, their numbers increasing,and by the time they arrived at the grove there were at least twentypersons in the crowd. The boys pointed to a large maple tree, and amoment later the crowd surrounded the dead body. An offensive odorfilled the air, and the horrible sight caused many to turn hastily away.
"Who is it?" asked every one, but no one seemed able to answer.
The crowd was being augmented by numbers, for the news of the discoveryhad spread rapidly. Finally a man broke through the crowd, and hastilyglancing at the body, said:
"It is George Alden. I know those clothes; but see, the face is prettymuch gone. Horrible!"
The news flew quickly to the village, and many people flocked tothe scene. Gazing upon the mutilated remains, many, recognizing theclothing, corroborated the opinion first expressed. Soon it was decidedin the minds of all that the remains were those of the missing cashier,a pistol in close proximity to the body telling a tale of suicide.
The coroner came later, a jury was empanelled, and it was discoveredthat all valuables on the person had been stolen. Although the body wasso badly decomposed that a thorough examination was impossible, thebullet-hole was plainly visible, the whole face having the appearance ofbeing scorched and lacerated. In this condition the remains were placedin a handsome casket, and closed never to be opened.
The first theory was one of suicide, although the fact that the watchand everything else of value had been taken from the pockets suggestedto many murder as the cause of death.
While the community was greatly shocked, the scenes taking place atthe Hamblin mansion were heart-rending. Fannie Alden, on returning toCleverdale, had been prevailed upon to remain with Belle until herbrother's return.
During the anxious days the sisters tried to comfort each other,constantly remaining together. As the hours wore on, no tidings of theloved one being received, hope gradually gave way to despondency, andwhen the awful news reached them that the dead body of the husband andbrother had been found, it prostrated both with grief.
"Oh," cried Belle, "I must go to him, and look upon his dear face oncemore."
When told it would not be possible for her to see him, her sobs andmoans were so piteous that they would have even softened the hearts ofthe two villainous authors of the deep and cruel game, so full of woe toher, had not these hearts been reserved for more appropriate treatment.
For several days Senator Hamblin visited his daughter only once, for heknew that he was a poor comforter. Suffering the torments of hell, hecursed his mad ambition and declared himself a murderer.
"Oh, my God!" he would exclaim, "what have I done to gratify myambition? Step by step, approaching this awful deed, what crimes I havecommitted, and what sorrow I have brought upon my beloved daughter.Dead? yes, and I his murderer! How can I free myself from myself? Mydreams are haunted by this awful spectre. I see him before me in hisagony, as he trembled at the false accusation that he was a thief. Thatlook haunts me, and almost drives me mad."
Falling into a chair and burying his head in both hands, he groaned inagony of spirit.
"Oh, had I the courage to end this! But no, I dare not run the riskof a worse torment than I am experiencing. If this is earth, whatmust hell be? I must live and look upon her sad face--see her miseryand acknowledge that I, her unnatural father, murdered her husband!Ambition, what a fiend you are!" and so passed hour after hour.
The remains had been removed by the coroner and placed temporarily inthe receiving vault. The funeral, appointed for the following day, wasa sad and solemn occasion for the people of Cleverdale, the eulogiespronounced over the supposed dead hero touching the hearts of all. Thebrave act of rescuing the one hundred and fifty operatives from theburning factory was referred to in glowing words, and stout hearts wereovercome as they thought of the sad death of the estimable man whomevery one loved and respected.
The prostrated young wife was unable to attend the ceremony, for,utterly overcome with grief, she could not leave her room.
A grave was opened in the Hamblin lot, for the Senator ordered that thebody should rest there. The crowd that followed was ver
y great, for mostof the one hundred and fifty rescued persons followed as mourners, andas they stood beside the yawning chasm, sobs filled the air. Never wasthere such an affecting funeral in Cleverdale. The church bells tolledsad requiems, and it was a day long to be remembered. As the earthclosed over the remains of the man stolen from his grave in Havelock,many grief-stricken hearts were weighed down by the cruel clods; whiletwo jolly fellows met in a room at the Cleverdale Hotel, opened a bottleof wine, and drank to the success of their businesslike scheme.
Instead of abating, Belle's grief increased, causing her to pass manysad hours mourning, and reproaching herself for leaving her husbandbefore his body and mind had regained their natural strength. Shedesired to make public her marriage and assume her lawful name, butat the urgent solicitation of her father decided to keep her secret;though not until Fannie Alden had acquiesced in her decision. Afterwardregretting this deception, she passed many unhappy hours in the dualcharacter assumed.
Senator Hamblin lost all interest in politics; he was burdened withhis crime and haunted by visions. In his chamber, at the bank, or withhis family he appeared like a broken-down man; even his old politicalfriends failed to arouse him from his moods of despondency. Millercalled to converse with him on subjects that heretofore occupied hiswhole attention.
"I care not, Miller," he said. "I am sick and tired of politics."
Even Paddy Sullivan failed to awaken the old-time enthusiasm, and thecanvass for the gubernatorial nomination was abandoned temporarily atleast.
Day after day, week after week, month after month, he moved aboutin a mechanical way. As he kept his notes renewed, no one suspectedhis financial condition, but the interest on his borrowed money wasincreasing his indebtedness. He was always kind to Belle, however, andas she lost all love and interest for everything he often expostulatedwith her.
"No, papa, my heart is frozen. I can only wait for the time when I shallmeet George in the other world. But you, papa, look haggard and brokendown."
"Ah! my child, I am a murderer--the brand of Cain is upon me. It will beonly for a short time, for this terrible responsibility is killing me."
The dutiful girl, throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him.
"How can you kiss me," he would say, "when I have been so cruel to you?Oh, Belle, the world is ignorant of your relation to him and it does notknow I drove him away. If the people of Cleverdale, who loved him so,knew that I was his murderer, think you they would spare me?"
"You knew not what you did then. For my sake throw off this grim demonthat is holding you. You must be prepared for your public duties, for itwill be but a short time before you must go to the Senate again."
"If I could recall the dead, I would willingly give all I possess; yes,I would esteem it a privilege to lie down in the grave myself could Igive you back your dead husband."
Belle, filled with grief for the dead, beheld the suffering of theliving, and resolved to bear up and save her father if possible.
Poor Fannie Alden was spared the grief that would have been hers hadshe been told of the charge preferred against her brother. She believedthat, becoming deranged, he had taken his own life. A long investigationwas made, but of course nothing was found supporting the theory ofmurder excepting the fact of the pockets containing no valuables. It wasascertained, however, that the watch of George Alden was at a jewelrystore, left there by the owner to be repaired; but the absence of allother articles from the pockets was enveloped in deep mystery. Not oneword written by the deceased had been found. The excitement soon diedaway, the suicide theory being gradually accepted.
Senator Hamblin and daughter thought they knew why he had taken his ownlife. Mannis and Sargent knew George Alden was not dead. But the peopleof Cleverdale, visiting the cemetery, often paused beside the grave andsaid:
"Such a good and noble man! What a sad thing that he became insane andkilled himself!"
The Cleverdale Mystery; or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American Life Page 29