Seek and Find Part 21

"Did he make his will in Newgate?" I asked.

"His will! What will? I have told you he had not a penny in the world.

Your uncle has ever since paid your mother's board in the insane asylum."

"That is very kind of him. Can you tell me where she is?"

"I don't know."

"I suppose not; and probably it would not be convenient for you to tell if you did."

"I would tell you if I knew. If you desire it, I will persuade your uncle to tell you. You keep talking about a will. What do you mean by it?"

"I found such a doc.u.ment in my uncle's strong box."

"Where is it?"

"It is safe."

"If there is any such doc.u.ment it is a mere fiction. I don't know anything about it."

"You don't?"

"No."

"All right."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"Of course when you speak of a will, you mean something by it,"

persisted Tom.

"It's no use to talk."

"Why not?"

"Because the truth isn't in you."

"I speak the exact truth."

"No--you don't."

"But I do."

"You know all about the will. I heard my uncle speak to you about it; and I heard you ask if it was not destroyed. You asked for it, and wanted to burn it then. Don't you know anything about it now?"

"You heard all this?" said he, biting his lips.

"I heard it."

"You dreamed it."

"No, I didn't dream it. I heard a great deal more than this. You wanted to destroy the will; but your father said he dared not do it."

"Pray, where were you, when you heard all this?"

"On the top of the bay window of the library. The upper sash was pulled down, so as to let the air in."

"Then you are an eaves-dropper as well as a thief."

"I was on the eaves of the bay window, and I dropped down about the time you went up stairs to look for me. Now you know all about it--and so do I. You may tell me my father died in Newgate, and that you never heard of any will. I shall believe just as much of it as I please, and no more. You think I'm a boy, Mr. Tom Thornton; but I've got brains enough to know chalk from cheese."

Tom wiped his forehead. He did not like my style; but he could not do anything. He dared not take any decided step. After observing the feebleness of his position, I made up my mind that I had won the victory. He was afraid to arrest me, and I felt as safe as though I had been in London then. But there was one more point I wanted to impress upon him.

"I have no doubt, Ernest, that you have some paper which you think is valuable; something which has the form of a will," said Tom, after he had fidgeted about in his seat for some time.

"It has that form," I replied.

"I should like to know what the paper is. Where is it?"

"No matter where it is. I know its value, and I have put it where, the moment you take your first step against me, you will find it lying like a big snake in your path."

"Won't you let me see it?"

"No."

"I only want to know what it is. You need not let it go out of your own hands."

"I won't show it."

I had made my point. I had a.s.sured him the will would be forthcoming when he took any step to annoy me. Tom tried all sorts of persuasion to induce me to exhibit it; but without denying that I had it, I declined to produce it. He was so weak that I began to despise him. At last he got mad, and threatened me with all sorts of calamities. I told him, when he became abusive, that I would not talk any more with him, and abruptly left him.

Most of all, I desired to shake him off and get rid of him. While he was watching me, I could not convey Kate to her uncle, and I was puzzled to know what I should do. When the steamer arrived at New York, Tom would keep both eyes fixed upon me, and I should have no chance to a.s.sist my fair companion. I walked about the boat, and thought the matter over; but the more I considered it, the more unsatisfactory it seemed.

About one o'clock the steamer made a landing at Poughkeepsie. I went down to the main deck, from which the gangway planks led to the wharf. I found Tom Thornton there, apparently for the purpose of a.s.suring himself that I did not take "French leave" of him, which was just the thing I intended to do, if it could be done without his notice. I went forward, but found that the stern of the boat was swung in, so that the forward gangway was twenty feet from the pier.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ESCAPE DEFEATED.--Page 187.]

Returning to the saloon deck, I carefully examined the position of the boat in regard to the sh.o.r.e. I went out upon the s.p.a.ce over the guards, and outside of the state-rooms. On the edge of the wharf there was a storehouse, the end of which reached about to the middle of the steamer's wheel. The top of the paddle-box was nearly on a level with the flat roof of this building. I could not see Tom Thornton, but I concluded that he was still watching for me on the main deck. The s.p.a.ce between the top of the paddle-box and the roof of the storehouse was not more than three or four feet, and I concluded that a girl as resolute as Kate Loraine would leap across the gulf without difficulty. I went to her state-room, and gave the four raps. She was glad enough to see me, and taking her valise I told her to follow me. I waited till I heard the order given to haul in the plank, and then led Kate up the rude steps on the curve of the paddle-box, heedless of the sign which interdicted pa.s.sengers from ascending.

A waiter shouted to me; but, fearful that I should be accused of trying to evade the payment of our fares, I threw him my tickets, and told him I must land at Poughkeepsie. I reached the top of the paddle-box with Kate, and jumped over on the roof myself, with her carpet-bag in my hand.

"Now jump, Kate!" I called, as I heard the bell ring to start the wheels.

"I am afraid," she replied, shuddering, as she looked down into the yawning gulf below.

"Jump quick, and I will catch you!"