CHAPTER V.
A little crowd, mostly men, were gathered about the depot door to watchthe arrival of the westward-bound evening train. A few yards fartherfrom the track, Miriam Heath, seated in a buggy, had reined in herhorse and was quietly waiting. At the first sound of the whistle,instantly followed by the rush and roar of the train, the animalstarted aside, snorting, and rolling his eyes wildly.
"Shall I take his head, miss?" asked a voice in a rich Irish brogue,and Phelim O'Rourke, hurrying from Bangs's stable to join the waitingthrong, sprang hastily forward and seized the bridle-rein.
"No; I can hold him; he will be quiet enough as soon as he sees what itis," Miriam answered shortly, not overpleased at the officiousness ofthe man.
He stepped away a few paces and regarded her with a malignant scowl.
Her words were made good almost before they had left her lips. Thetrain swept into sight, and her horse stood quiet as a lamb, while theengine puffed, snorted, and blew off steam, and the passengers pouredout and scattered themselves hither and thither.
A middle-aged man, with a sober, honest Scotch face, in decent farmerdress, and carrying a satchel in his hand, was among the first toalight.
"You're a gude leddy, as weel's a bonny ane, Miss Miriam," he said,hurrying toward her. "I'm no ill pleased to forego the pleasure o' atramp through the cauld and ower the frozen, rough roads."
"I thought you would come back tired, Sandy," she returned, resigningthe reins to him as he took the seat by her side, having alreadybestowed his satchel in the bottom of the buggy. "Besides, it will besafer, in case--"
"Wait a wee, Miss Miriam," he interrupted, in an undertone. "Along wi'ye! lively now, Robin!" to the horse, who at once set off at a brisktrot in the direction of home.
O'Rourke had watched the little scene with a sort of covert eagerness,and as the buggy whirled away up the road his eyes followed it with alook of lurking triumph and greed.
Neither of its occupants spoke again till quite clear of the town.Then, having first sent a cautious glance from side to side, Sandy,again speaking in a low key, as if fearful of being overheard, said:"It's gude news I bring ye, Miss Miriam; by the blessing o' Providencethe wheat sold uncommon weel, and they paid doon; so that I hae amatter o' $1500 for ye--a trifle o' odd dollars ower that."
"Oh, Sandy, that is good!" she cried, joyously. "But I wish it weresafe in the bank. If we could only have got it here in time!"
"Three hours sooner. I wish it could have been done, Miss Miriam. Butwe'll try to tak' care o't the night, and deposit it betimes i' themorn."
"Oh, if we only can, Sandy! Just think; we shall be able at once to payoff the interest on the mortgage and half the principal; and anothersuch year will give us the place entirely free from incumbrance," shesaid, her eyes shining.
Sandy McAllister was her right-hand man on the farm, working withsteady industry for day's wages; her true and trusted friend as well,knowing her affairs almost as intimately as she did herself, and takinga fatherly interest in her success and the prosperity of the wholefamily.
"Yes; what's ower and abune will be sufficient, wi' what the potatoes,and cabbage, and a' the ither crops o' vegetables, and the fruits willbring in, to keep the pot boilin' till anither harvest," he remarked,reflectively. "Ye'll win through, Miss Miriam; there's promises to thewidow and the fatherless, and the Lord's aye faithful to His word."
It was nearly dark when they reached Lakeside, but there was light andwarmth in its cosey sitting-room, whither Miriam carried the satchel,while Sandy drove around to the stable and put up the horse.
The grandmother was dishing up the supper, Ronald keeping the littleones quiet with a story; but on Miriam's entrance they left him, andran to meet her with a shout of joy.
"Oh, sister, we're so glad you've come home! We were 'fraid you'd gotlost."
"Were you?" she said, stooping to caress them in turn.
"Yes; we were beginning to be uneasy; it was growing so dark," said hergrandmother, filling the teapot and setting it on the table. "Come now,dears, tea is ready."
"I believe the train was a few minutes behind time," Miriam answered."Grandmother," and putting an arm round the old lady's neck, shewhispered in her ear something that brought a pleased, thankful lookinto the placid face.
Then going to the side of Ronald's easy-chair, "The wheat sold well; sowell that we shall be able to pay the interest on the mortgage and halfthe principal," she said, in a low, joyous tone, leaning over him, hereyes shining and her cheeks dimpling with a glad smile.
"That is good news indeed!" he cried, his face reflecting thebrightness of hers. "If we continue to prosper so, we'll have the placeclear in another year; also, I trust I may be able by that time torelieve you of at least a part of the burden of supporting the family."
"Ah, it takes two to make a bargain; and I may not be willing to resignmy sceptre," she answered, gayly, as she threw off bonnet and shawl andtook her seat with the rest at the table.
The meal was enlivened by cheerful chat, though the same anxiousthought pressed more or less heavily upon the heart of each of theelders of the party. No one gave it utterance till the little ones werequiet in their nest; then, with every door locked and bolted, everyshutter closed and barred, and the curtains drawn, the four (Sandybeing always taken into their counsels) drew together and examined thecontents of the satchel.
"A thousand-dollar bill!" Ronald said, turning it about in his hands,"and marked with some one's initials. Well, if the burglars should robus of it they would hardly dare venture to use it."
"True, sir," said Sandy; "an' what's to hinder us frae spoilin'these ither anes for their use in the same way? Here's fourone-hundred-dollar notes, one fifty, and the rest in fives, tens,and siller."
"A good idea," assented Ronald. "Mirry, please bring pen and ink."
The marking was done, and they were discussing the probabilities of avisit from the burglars infesting the country, and the best dispositionto be made of the money for the night, when a loud knocking at thekitchen door startled them and set the hearts of the two ladies tobeating almost audibly. Sandy rose to answer it, while Miriam hastilyconcealed the notes in the bosom of her dress.
"Mirry," whispered Ronald, "give them up rather than suffer yourself tobe roughly handled. Sandy, don't open the door till you know who isthere."
"Surely not, sir," returned the man, as he left the room, carefullyclosing the door behind him.
The others sat silent, straining their ears to hear.
Sandy held a moment's parley with some one; then the bolt waswithdrawn, and the tones of a female voice, speaking with a rich Irishbrogue, penetrated to the inner room.
"Nora!" exclaimed Miriam, in a tone of relief.
"A friend instead of an enemy, as we feared," added Mrs. Heath.
They had full confidence in Nora's honesty and good will; scarcely lessin those of Barney.
"But she may come to warn us of danger," said Ronald, in a low tone ofgreat anxiety.
The others had not thought of that. But Sandy was ushering Nora intothe room.
"Good avenin' till yees, leddies an' Misther Ronald, sor," she said,dropping a courtesy; "an' I ax yer pardons fer throublin' yees thistoime o' noight; but it's all along o' Barney an' me a thinkin' yeesmoight be a thrifle onaisy in yer moinds, considerin' there's so mannythaves about, an' Misther McAllisther jist home from the city, an'maybe suspected o' bringin' money wid him, an' the bank closed so hecouldn't put it there for safe kapin'. An' Barney"--she drew nearer,glanced cautiously around, and lowered her voice to a loud whisper--"hesays, says he, 'Nora, I'm onaisy about Miss Miriam an' the rest, for Isee that raskil Phalim O'Rourke a prowlin' round while I was cuttin'wood in the back yarrud this afthernoon. He'd brought Bangs's sistherin the buggy, an' while she was intil the house talkin' wid the ouldlady, he was makin' hisself acquainted wid the premisis. An' I'll bebound it wasn't fer no good, nayther.'"
"Is he one of the burglars?" ask
ed Miriam, paling visibly.
"Barney an' me cudn't jist say that same, Miss Mirry; but it's a thafehe was in the war; an' he's makin' his ould fayther an' mither moightycomfortable in a nice little house in the town, that he's bought an'paid fer, an' nobody knows where the money come from; fer how cud thespalpeen mak' the loike o' that same workin' round fer the farmers an'takin' care o' Bangs's horse?"
"It certainly looks suspicious," said Ronald; "but what is it you haveto propose, Nora?"
"Jist this, sor; that if it's agrayable till the leddies an' yersilf,and wull make yees anny aisier in yer moinds, Barney'll come an' helpguard the house till to-morrow mornin', an' not lave at all at all tillthe sun's up an' shinin'."
"That is very kind," said Miriam; "but what would become of you and thechildren if the burglars should take a fancy to pay you a visit?"
"An' sure, miss, what would they be afther in our poor bit of a hut?"laughed Nora. "There ain't nothin' there to stale, barrin' me an' thechilder."
The kind proposal was acceded to with hearty thanks. Nora, rejectingMcAllister's proffered services as escort, hastened away, and in a fewminutes Barney presented himself in their midst.
The intervening time had been employed by them in disposing of themoney for the night. Ronald would have had it laid under his pillow;but Miriam entered an indignant protest.
"What," she asked, "was the money worth in comparison with his life?That should not be risked by having the filthy lucre in the same roomwith him."
"The money is worth a great deal as the means of sustaining all ourlives," Ronald answered, quietly; "but since you reject my plan, whatother have you to offer?"
"I will take the smaller notes and conceal them upstairs. If they comeand find the larger ones, they will probably think that is all and lookno farther; so none of our lives will be endangered, and the notes,being marked, may be recovered."
"Yes," the grandmother said; "we will put them in the parlor, and innot too unlikely a place, lest they should come to our bedrooms insearch of them, and if we happen to wake, kill us to keep us fromtelling of them, and so bringing them to justice."
These suggestions were immediately carried out. Miriam went into theparlor, without a light, fearing that even a slight gleam might furnisha clew to a lurking foe, put the bank-notes into a little chimneycupboard, locked it, and took away the key.
They retired early, as was their custom. Mrs. Heath, Miriam, and thetwo children slept upstairs; but Ronald's bedroom was on the groundfloor, opening into the sitting-room where they had passed the evening.
In this last Sandy and Barney took up their quarters for the night,each armed with a loaded revolver. It had been agreed that each shouldtake his turn in watching while the other slept, and that upon anysound of approaching footsteps, or an attempt of any one outside toopen window or door, the sleeper should be instantly roused by hiscompanion.
McAllister took the first watch, keeping himself awake with a book.Shortly after one o'clock he roused Barney, shaking him somewhatroughly, and saying in an undertone, "Come, me mon; it's my turn thenoo; and richt glad I am, for I can scarce keep my een open ony langer."
They exchanged places. Sandy began to snore the moment he had stretchedhimself upon the lounge from which Barney had just risen; while thelatter, weary with a hard day's work, and heavy with sleep, yawned inhis chair, shook himself, sat erect, and stretched his eyes wide openwith a determined air, then rose and paced the room, but with astealthy tread, lest he should disturb Ronald.
He meant to be faithful to his trust, had no mind to be conquered bysleep, but fatigue presently sent him back to his chair; halfunconsciously his head dropped upon the table, his eyes closed, and inanother moment he was wrapped in profound slumber.
The clock on the mantel struck two, but both he and his fellow-watcherremained deaf to the sound. The hands moved steadily on and pointed toten minutes of three, as something--he did not know what--startled andawoke him.
He sat up and listened. There was a slight noise--where? in the parlor?Yes; as of some one stepping cautiously across the floor.
Barney sprang to his feet, dealt McAllister a smart blow to rouse him,seized a pistol, threw open the door into the hall, and rushed acrossinto the parlor.
As he did so a man dashed past him to one of the front windows, whichwas open, as Barney at once perceived by the glimmer of light from thesnow outside and the draught of cold air.
He sprang after the retreating figure and grasped it about the waist asit gained the window-sill.
But with a desperate effort, and a blow in the face that felled Nolanto the floor, the burglar freed himself, and springing lightly to theground, sped away like the wind.
Barney was up in an instant and in hot pursuit, crying at the top ofhis voice, "Stop thafe! stop thafe!"
Sandy, too, taking a flying leap through the window, joined in therace, echoing the cry with all the strength of his lungs, but with theScotch accent instead of the Irish brogue.
But the burglar, being younger and fleeter of foot than they, andhaving the start of them, soon distanced their pursuit; and uncertainwhich direction he had taken, and bethinking themselves of thedefenceless state of those left behind at Lakeside, should accomplicesof the fleeing scoundrel be lingering about, they made haste to return.
They found Ronald and the ladies awake and in great anxiety and alarm.
An examination of the parlor at once disclosed the fact that thecupboard door had been opened with a skeleton key and the money taken.Its loss was a great blow to the family, yet the fact that the noteswere marked gave them some hope of their final recovery.
"I dinna see ony evidence that the mon had accomplices," remarkedMcAllister, when a thorough search of the house had been made.
"The tracks in the snow will settle that question when daylight comesto enable us to see them," said Ronald.
"Na, na, sir; it's snowin' fast the noo, and they'll be all covered upbrawly by that," responded McAllister.
"Then take a lantern and look for them at once," Miriam said, speakingwith energy and decision.
"An' so we wull! Sure, thin, the young misthress is the smartest o' thelot o' us all!" cried Barney, seizing a light and leading the way,McAllister following.
"Well?" Ronald asked, in an excited tone, as they re-entered the room.
"'Twas as I surmised, sir; the mon came his lane," said McAllister.
"An' it's mesilf that cud a'most tak' me oath that 'twas PhalimO'Rourke," added Barney, setting down the light, and turning from oneto another of the little group in strong excitement. "I cudn't see hisface that plain, to be sure, fer the darkness, but I got a glimpse o't;and the soize o' the raskil was as loike Phalim as the twin brother o''im."
"And who is Phelim O'Rourke?" asked Miriam. "Nora spoke of him, but Idon't remember to have heard of him before."
"Sure, Miss Miriam, he's a returned sojer as wurruks fer LawyerBangs--takin' care o' his horse an' doin' anny ither chores wanted inthe fam'ly. An' it's mesilf that niver loiked the look o' him, letalone that he didn't git the best o' characters from annybody in therigiment; in fact, miss, he had the name o' bein' as big a thafe as thenixt one."
"Are you willing to repeat what you have just said before amagistrate?" asked Ronald.
"Sure, sor; an' fer what wouldn't I?"
"It will probably anger Bangs, as O'Rourke is in his employ."
"Sorra a bit wad I care fer that same, sor," returned Barney, with ascornful laugh, "barrin' the thrifle o' plisure it moight affoord me,"he added, with a gleam of fun in his eye.
The Tragedy of Wild River Valley Page 5