Flamsted quarries Part 41

"I fear you are very tired," he said, and rose to go.

"No, no; I am better already. The telling has done me such good. I shall soon be up and about. When do you go?"

"This afternoon; and you may expect telegrams from me at almost any time; so don't be alarmed simply because I send them. I thought you would prefer to know from day to day."

"You are good--but I can say nothing." The tears welled at last and overflowed on her cheeks.

"Don't say that--I beg of you." He spoke almost sharply, as if hurt physically. "Nothing is needed--and I hope you will let Sister Ste.

Croix come in for a few days and care for you. She wants to come."

"Tell her to come. I think I am willing to see any one now--something has given way here;" she pressed her hand to her head; "it's a great relief."

"Good-bye." He held out his hand and she placed hers in it; the tears kept rolling down her cheeks.

"Tell my darling boy, when you see him, that it was my fault--and I love him so--oh, how I love him--" Her voice broke in a sob.

Father Honore left the room to cover his emotion. He spoke to Ellen from the hall, and went out at the front door in order to avoid Mrs. Caukins.

He had need to be alone.

That afternoon at the station, Octavius Buzzby met him on the platform.

"Mr. Buzzby, is there any truth in the rumor I heard, as I came to the train, that Mrs. Champney has had a stroke?"

The face of Champ-au-Haut's factotum worked strangely before he made answer.

"Yes, she's had a slight shock. The doctor told me this morning that he knew she'd had the first one over three years ago; this is the second.

I've come down for a nurse he telegraphed for; I expect her on the next train up--and, Father Honore--" he hesitated; his hands were working nervously in each other.

"Yes, Mr. Buzzby?"

"I come down to see you, too, on purpose--"

"To see me?" Father Honore looked his surprise; his thoughts leaped to a possible demand on Mrs. Champney's part for his presence at Champ-au-Haut--she might have repented her words, changed her mind; might be ready to help her nephew. In that case, he would wait for the midnight train.

The man of Maine's face was working painfully again; he was struggling for control; his feelings were deep, tender, loyal; he was capable of any sacrifice for a friend.

"Father Honore--I don't want to b.u.t.t in anywhere--into what ain't my business, but I do want to know if you're going to New York?"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you going to try to see _him_?"

"I'm going to try to find him--for his mother's sake and his own."

Octavius Buzzby grasped his hand and wrung it. "G.o.d bless you!" He fumbled with his left hand in his breast pocket and drew forth a package. "Here, you take this--it's honest money, all mine--you use it for Champney--to help out, you know, in any way you see fit."

Father Honore was so moved he could not speak at once.

"If Mr. Googe could know what a friend he has in you, Mr. Buzzby," he said at last, "I don't think he could wholly despair, whatever might come,"--he pressed the package back into Octavius' hand,--"keep it with you, it's safer; and I promise you if I need it I will call on you."

Suddenly his indignation got the better of him--"But this is outrageous!"--he spoke in a low voice but vehemently,--"Mrs. Champney is abundantly able to do this for her nephew, whereas you--"

"You're right, sir, it's a d.a.m.ned outrage--I beg your pardon, Father Honore, I hadn't ought to said that, but I've seen so much, and I'm all broke up, I guess, with what I've been through since yesterday. I went to her myself then and made bold to ask her to help with her riches that's bringing her in eight per cent, and told her some plain truths--"

"You went--!" Father Honore exclaimed; he had almost said "too," but caught himself in time.

"Yes, I went, and all I got was an insult for my pains. She's a she-dev--I beg your pardon, sir; it would serve me right if the Almighty struck me dumb with a stroke like hers, only hers don't affect her speech any, Aileen says--I guess her tongue's insured against shock for life, but it hadn't ought to be, sir, not after the blasphemy it's uttered. But I ain't the one to throw stones, not after what I've just said in your presence, sir, and I do beg your pardon, I know what's due to the clo--"

The train, rounding the curve, whistled deafeningly.

Father Honore grasped both Octavius' hands; held them close in a firm cordial grip; looked straight into the small brown eyes that were filled with tears, the result of pure nervousness.

"We men understand each other, Mr. Buzzby; no apology is necessary--let me have your prayers while I am away, I shall need them--good-bye--" He entered the car.

Octavius Buzzby lifted his hat and stood bareheaded on the platform till the train drew out.

PART FOURTH

Oblivion

I

"I have called to see Mr. Van Ostend, by appointment," said Father Honore to the footman in attendance at the door of the mansion on the Avenue.

He was shown into the library. Mr. Van Ostend rose from the armchair to greet him.

"I am glad to see you, Father Honore." He shook hands cordially and drew up a chair opposite to his own before the blazing hearth. "Be seated; I have given orders that we are not to be interrupted. I cannot pretend ignorance as to the cause of your coming--a sad, bad matter for us all.

Have you any news?"

"Only that he is here in New York."

Mr. Van Ostend looked startled. "Here? Since when? My latest advice was this afternoon from the Maine detectives."

"I heard yesterday from headquarters that he had been traced here, but he must be in hiding somewhere; thus far they've found no trace of him.

I felt sure, from the very first, he would return; that is why I came down. He couldn't avoid detection any longer in the country, nor could he hold out another week in the Maine wilderness--no man could stand it in this weather."

"How long have you been here, Father Honore?"

"Three days. I promised Mrs. Googe to do what I could to find him; the mother suffers most."

"I know--I know; it's awful for her; but, for G.o.d's sake, what did he do it for!"

"Why do we all sin at times?"