The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada

by William Murray Graydon

  CHAPTER XLV.

  FORGING THE LINKS.

  Never had I experienced such excitement. The scene was beyond my wildestthoughts, though I confess that I had expected the captain to prove tobe the heir to some property. But to find him a British peer--this manwho had been my friend and comrade for so many months--it fairly took mybreath away!

  Yet there could be no doubt that Captain Rudstone and Osmund Maiden wereone and the same, and with sincere and heartfelt pleasure I offered himmy congratulations. Macdonald followed my example, but Flora held aloof,and had nothing to say.

  "Thank you, my dear Carew," the captain cried heartily, as he clasped myhand. "I dare say this is a big surprise to all of you. But if it isquite true--I am the prodigal son come into his own again, and I canassure you I am glad of it."

  "The story is not complete yet," suggested the law clerk. "With yourpermission, my lord--"

  "You have it, sir," interrupted the captain. "Give these gentlemen afull explanation. It will come most fittingly from you."

  "The narrative is a very brief one," commenced Christopher Burley,turning to us. "It starts properly in the year 1787. At that time HughCecil Maiden, third Earl of Heathermere, was a widower with three sons,by name Reginald, Bertie, and Osmund. The latter was the youngest sonand was not a favorite with his father, if I may take the liberty ofsaying as much. One day he quarreled bitterly with the old earl andvowed that he would leave home and begin a new life in another country.That vow he kept. He was scarcely twenty years of age then, but hesailed from England for the Canadas with a small sum of money in hispocket. And in all the years that followed nothing was heard of him.

  "I now pass over a long period. In the year 1814 the eldest son Reginalddied; he left a wife but no issue. Three months later the second son wasthrown and killed while hunting. In consequence of this double shock theold earl was stricken with paralysis. He lingered for months speechlessand helpless, and early in the following year he, too, died. Having noblood relatives--save the missing younger son--the title was threatenedwith extinction. The estate, of course, went into Chancery."

  As the law clerk paused for a moment there flashed into my mind anincident that had happened long before at Fort York--the suddenagitation exhibited by Captain Rudstone while reading a copy of theLondon _Times_, and the paragraph I had subsequently found relating tothe Earl of Heathermere. It was all clear to me now.

  "There is but little more to tell," resumed Christopher Barley. "Thedisappearance of Osmund Maiden in 1787 was not generally known, but itcame to the knowledge of my employers, Parchmont & Tolliver. Theydetermined to take the matter up on speculation, and accordingly theysent me out to the Canadas to search for the missing heir, or for hisissue in case he had married and died, and I trust you will remember, mylord, that they incurred very heavy expenses on a slim chance ofsuccess."

  "There are several things I should like to ask you," replied Macdonald."I infer from your own statement that you were aware months ago of thedeath of your father and brothers, and of the fact that Mr. Burley wasin Canada seeking for you?"

  "That is correct, sir."

  "And yet you kept silence--you did not reveal your identity?"

  "Yes. I had a reason, as I mentioned before."

  "It must have been a very important one!"

  "My lord, I agree with Mr. Macdonald," broke in the law clerk. "Lookingat it from a legal standpoint, I feel that an explanation should beforthcoming."

  "You shall have it in the presence of these gentlemen," declared thecaptain. "There is nothing now to prevent me from speaking openly,though I must admit that the story is not one I like to tell. To bebrief, I was under the impression that I had killed a man, and that acharge of murder rested against me. The affair happened in Montreal inFebruary of 1788, a few months after I landed in Canada. I was in agambling den with a companion, and another man at our table, with whom Iwas playing cards, deliberately cheated. When I accused him of it hereached for his pistol, and to save my life I fired first. I saw himfall, shot in the chest. Then some one put out the light, and in theconfusion that followed I managed to escape. Before morning I was afugitive from Montreal, heading for the wilderness."

  The captain paused a moment, his head bowed in an attitude of sorrow.

  "That, gentlemen, is the reason why I hid my identity all theseyears--during more recent months," he continued. "I preferred to losetitle and riches rather than bring shame and dishonor on one ofEngland's proudest names--not to speak of the danger of arrest andconviction."

  "Who was the man you shot?" the factor demanded eagerly. "Hisname--quick!"

  "He was a Frenchman--Henri Salvat."

  "Ah, I thought so!" cried Macdonald. "He did not die--he recovered fromthe wound. And as he did not know your name, you were not suspected ofthe deed, I was in Montreal shortly afterward, and heard of the affair."

  "And I learned the truth but a few weeks ago--when I was coming downcountry," Captain Rudstone replied huskily. "I met an old trapper whohad been in Montreal at the time, and by adroit questioning I drew fromhim what you have just told me. I need not say what a relief it was. Idetermined at once to find Mr. Burley and reveal all. Does theexplanation satisfy you?"

  "You were certainly justified in keeping silence," Macdonald answered."The reason was sound. But there is one little point I would like tohave cleared; Why, when you believed yourself a fugitive from justice,did you use your real name at Fort Garry?"

  "Simply because there was no alternative," said the captain. "The firstperson I met when I entered Fort Garry in April of 1788 was a man whohad known me as Osmund Maiden in Quebec a few months before; so I had toleave the trunk in that name. At the time, of course, no word of theaffair at Montreal had reached the fort--I came here by rapid marches.But fearing that the clew might be followed up, I abandoned my intentionof going north, and went south instead, ultimately crossing the borderinto the United States. I remained there for twelve years."

  "And afterward, Captain Rudstone, I think you visited England--yournative land?" Flora exclaimed at this point. "At least, I have heard yousay so."

  The captain gave her a sharp glance, and I fancied I read a hiddenmenace in his eyes. Then he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

  "You are quite right, Miss Hatherton; I did say so," he replied. "I hadearned some money in the States and in 1801 I sailed for England. Ilodged in London for some months, avoiding all who might have known me;then I crossed to the Continent, where I lived for six years in varioustowns. In 1807, older and much changed, I ventured back to the Canadas.I need not speak of my record from that time. I joined the CanadianVolunteers, and subsequently entered the service of the Hudson BayCompany, in which I rose to a position of trust. I may say that I havenot been in Montreal since 1788."

  "I beg your pardon, captain--I mean, my lord," said Flora, with a prettyblush. "It was presumptuous of me to question you."

  The law clerk shouldered the trunk and marched from the room. The restof us followed, and the factor closed and locked the door.

  That same evening, feeling restless, I left the house to take a strollin the fort inclosure. It was a relief to be away from the red-hot stoveand from the chatter of my companions.

  I was in low spirits, I confess--which was one reason why I had comeout. Flora had been unlike herself at supper, very quiet andthoughtful--a rare thing for her--and I had not seen her since she leftthe table. I feared that she was feeling ill, and, of course,lover-like, I evolved all sorts of dread possibilities from this. I hadin mind, besides, another and more vague cause of anxiety, which was asyet too intangible to grasp.

  For an hour I must have tramped here and there about the inclosure.

  At last, wretched and miserable, I returned to the factor's house. Ientered the sitting room and was glad to find it empty and dark. Ilighted a lamp, and coaxed up the dying embers of the fire with freshwood. I was in no mood for sleep, and for a long time I sat by thesto
ve, smoking pipe after pipe of strong tobacco, and staring gloomilyat the flames.

  When a distant clock struck twelve I roused from my stupor. I felt inbetter spirits, for I had reasoned myself into the belief that Florastill loved me, and that her strange actions sprang from another cause.I blew out the lamp and, lest I should waken any of the sleepers in thehouse, I took off my boots and carried them in one hand.

  I went softly upstairs in the darkness, and threaded a long, narrowhall. Two-thirds of the way along this I passed the door of Flora'sroom, and I was careful not to disturb her by the slightest sound. Atthe end of the hall a window admitted the silvery glow of the moon, andhere a cross passage turned to the right. Twenty feet away a thin bar oflight shone from a room that I knew was Captain Rudstone's, and beyondthat lay some empty apartments. My own room was one of the first. Islipped into it, put my boots on the floor and began to grope for alight.

  But before I could find the candle I was startled to hearfootsteps--very faint, but unmistakable--approaching without. I creptnoiselessly to the door and looked down the passage. Good Heavens! didmy eyes deceive me? Did I actually see a ghost--an apparition?

  But a ghost in black? Impossible! Now I beheld more clearly. A woman,gliding on slippered feet, was coming toward me. The moonbeams shone onthe long cloak of fur that enveloped her from head to foot--on theloosened hair and silver-hued face. And it was the face of FloraHatherton!

  For an instant the hot blood rushed to my brain; I felt a sharp pang atmy heart. Then I stepped suddenly out--out into the flood ofmoonlight--and confronted her. She gave a little scream, and choked itas quickly on her lips.

  "Denzil!" she gasped.

  "Flora!" I said sternly. "What does this mean?"

  "Hush!" she whispered. "We shall be heard! You--you said you would trustme. Is this keeping your word?"

  "Where have you been?" I demanded hoarsely.

  "I will tell you--again. Oh, be merciful, be patient!"

  I saw that Captain Rudstone's light had vanished. A madness sprang up inmy breast.

  "Where have you been?" I repeated. "Speak, for God's sake! Only tworooms are occupied on this passage--mine and--and his."

  I would have given my life to recall the hot words when I saw thehorror, the pitiful look of agony that shone from Flora's eyes.

  "Denzil, can you think that--that?" she asked. "Do you believe that Ihave come from his room? Oh, merciful Heaven! that is too much! Say thatI have not read your thoughts aright!"

  "Forgive, darling!" I whispered. "God help me, I knew not what I said!No, no, I will never believe that! Flora, my wife----"

  "I am trying you cruelly," she interrupted. "But I am innocent--my heartis all yours! Trust me, dearest, to the end. And now go--go! Think whatit will mean to be found here together!"

  With that she slipped by me, passed quickly to the end of the passage,and vanished from sight. I reeled like a drunken man into my room,closed the door noiselessly, and threw myself on the bed.