The Cryptogram Part 42

"What is the matter?" I said anxiously.

"Don't be foolish, Denzil!" she replied, turning her eyes in another direction, and making an effort to speak calmly. "I thought I saw--No, I was mistaken."

The words were so low that none heard them but myself. I attached no meaning to them at the time, thinking that she was slightly unnerved by the dramatic scene we were witnessing.

But Captain Rudstone--as I remembered afterward--seemed to notice Flora's agitation. At all events he quickly recovered the letter from the law clerk and restored it to the packet. That he tossed into the trunk, closing and locking the lid, and putting the key in his pocket.

Then he rose to his feet.

"I think," he said, "that I have fully proved my claim"--to which undeniable statement Macdonald and I nodded a.s.sent.

"And in the future we are to call you Mr. Osmund Maiden," said Flora, with a mocking flash in her eyes.

"Yes, he is Osmund Maiden," hoa.r.s.ely declared Christopher Burley. "But do you know all--all, sir?" he inquired eagerly.

"I think I do," replied the captain.

"When we first met in Quebec, months ago, Mr. Burley, I suspected what had brought you to the Canadas. Your own words, you will remember, gave me the clew. I can a.s.sure you that I have managed to keep an eye on the London papers for years past. No news of importance has escaped me."

"But--but why did you not--"

"Why not reveal myself before, you would say? I had a reason, Mr.

Burley--one that might have kept my lips sealed indefinitely. But that reason ceased to exist about a month ago, and I was free to follow you to Fort Garry--free to disclose the truth. Are you satisfied, sir?"

"I am content and I am grateful," replied the law clerk. "I have accomplished the difficult task that brought me across the seas. In this moment of triumph my arduous labors--my wanderings in a barbarous land--count for nothing. They are forgotten."

With that Christopher Burley rolled his eyes till the whites, showed, and a look of vast importance grew on his smug and shaven face. Then, to my astonishment, he made a low and cringing bow before Captain Rudstone.

"My lord, I congratulate you," he said proudly. "I greet you as the Earl of Heathermere, of Heathermere Hall, in Surrey--as the heir to an old and honored t.i.tle, to a vast and rich estate!"

"I greet you as the Earl of Heathermere, of Heathermere Hall, in Surrey--as the heir to an old and honored t.i.tle, to a vast and rich estate!"

CHAPTER XLV.

FORGING THE LINKS.

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

Yet there could be no doubt that Captain Rudstone and Osmund Maiden were one and the same, and with sincere and heartfelt pleasure I offered him my 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 my hand. "I dare say this is a big surprise to all of you. But if it is quite true--I am the prodigal son come into his own again, and I can a.s.sure you I am glad of it."

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

"You have it, sir," interrupted the captain. "Give these gentlemen a full 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 Hugh Cecil Maiden, third Earl of Heathermere, was a widower with three sons, by name Reginald, Bertie, and Osmund. The latter was the youngest son and was not a favorite with his father, if I may take the liberty of saying as much. One day he quarreled bitterly with the old earl and vowed 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 he sailed from England for the Canadas with a small sum of money in his pocket. And in all the years that followed nothing was heard of him.

"I now pa.s.s over a long period. In the year 1814 the eldest son Reginald died; he left a wife but no issue. Three months later the second son was thrown and killed while hunting. In consequence of this double shock the old earl was stricken with paralysis. He lingered for months speechless and helpless, and early in the following year he, too, died. Having no blood relatives--save the missing younger son--the t.i.tle was threatened with extinction. The estate, of course, went into Chancery."

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

"There is but little more to tell," resumed Christopher Barley. "The disappearance of Osmund Maiden in 1787 was not generally known, but it came to the knowledge of my employers, Parchmont & Tolliver. They determined to take the matter up on speculation, and accordingly they sent me out to the Canadas to search for the missing heir, or for his issue in case he had married and died, and I trust you will remember, my lord, that they incurred very heavy expenses on a slim chance of success."

"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 the death of your father and brothers, and of the fact that Mr. Burley was in Canada seeking for you?"

"That is correct, sir."

"And yet you kept silence--you did not reveal your ident.i.ty?"

"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. "Looking at it from a legal standpoint, I feel that an explanation should be forthcoming."

"You shall have it in the presence of these gentlemen," declared the captain. "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 be brief, I was under the impression that I had killed a man, and that a charge of murder rested against me. The affair happened in Montreal in February of 1788, a few months after I landed in Canada. I was in a gambling den with a companion, and another man at our table, with whom I was playing cards, deliberately cheated. When I accused him of it he reached for his pistol, and to save my life I fired first. I saw him fall, shot in the chest. Then some one put out the light, and in the confusion that followed I managed to escape. Before morning I was a fugitive from Montreal, heading for the wilderness."

The captain paused a moment, his head bowed in an att.i.tude of sorrow.

"That, gentlemen, is the reason why I hid my ident.i.ty all these years--during more recent months," he continued. "I preferred to lose t.i.tle and riches rather than bring shame and dishonor on one of England's proudest names--not to speak of the danger of arrest and conviction."

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

"He was a Frenchman--Henri Salvat."

"Ah, I thought so!" cried Macdonald. "He did not die--he recovered from the wound. And as he did not know your name, you were not suspected of the 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 down country," Captain Rudstone replied huskily. "I met an old trapper who had been in Montreal at the time, and by adroit questioning I drew from him what you have just told me. I need not say what a relief it was. I determined at once to find Mr. Burley and reveal all. Does the explanation satisfy you?"

"You were certainly justified in keeping silence," Macdonald answered.

"The reason was sound. But there is one little point I would like to have 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 first person I met when I entered Fort Garry in April of 1788 was a man who had known me as Osmund Maiden in Quebec a few months before; so I had to leave the trunk in that name. At the time, of course, no word of the affair at Montreal had reached the fort--I came here by rapid marches.

But fearing that the clew might be followed up, I abandoned my intention of going north, and went south instead, ultimately crossing the border into the United States. I remained there for twelve years."

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

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

"You are quite right, Miss Hatherton; I did say so," he replied. "I had earned some money in the States and in 1801 I sailed for England. I lodged 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 various towns. 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 Canadian Volunteers, and subsequently entered the service of the Hudson Bay Company, in which I rose to a position of trust. I may say that I have not been in Montreal since 1788."

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