A GRIM HAND INTERVENES
The next morning saw a grave change in the household on the bluff.
Delight, with violet-circled eyes and cheeks whose rose tints had faded
to pallor, listened with dread for the sound of the Galbraith's motor.
What the day would bring forth she feared to speculate. Willie and Bob
also showed traces of a sleepless night. Although they had guarded
from the others the happenings of the previous evening, between them
loomed a barrier of mutual amazement and reproach. Beneath his
attempted optimism Willie was wounded and indignant that he should have
been deceived by those in whose kindness he had believed so
whole-heartedly. He fought the facts with loyalty, obstinately
trusting that some satisfactory explanation would be forthcoming, but
he did not understand, and the dumb question that spoke in his eyes
hurt Robert Morton more than any formulated reproach could have done.
It was human, the young man owned, that the inventor should resent
having been tricked. He himself, throughout the weary watches of the
night, had twisted and turned Janoah's damning testimony, struggling to
explain it away by some simple and harmless interpretation; yet he was
compelled to admit that the facts pointed in but one direction. And if
he was baffled in his search for a way out, how much more so must
Willie be? Why, he would be almost superman if he did not surrender
his faith before such convincing evidence.
To the grief he experienced at forfeiting the little old man's trust,
Robert Morton was also compelled to add the bitterness of discovering
that those whose friendship was dearest to him had betrayed it and used
him as a stool pigeon in a contemptible plot that he would have scorned
to further had he been cognizant of it. He wondered, as he turned
restlessly on his pillow, whether it was Mr. Galbraith with whom the
duplicity originated or whether the conspiracy of yesterday was one of
Snelling's hatching. Was it not possible the employee desired the
invention for his own profit? That, to be sure, would be calamity
enough, but it would at least clear Mr. Galbraith of theft and
reinstate him in the young man's confidence. If only that could be the
answer to the riddle, how thankful he would be!
Well, until he could be brought face to face with the capitalist, it
was futile to attempt to unravel the enigma. How he longed in his
bewilderment for the sympathy and counsel of a fresh perspective! But
on Tiny's discretion he could place no reliance and even had he been
able to do so, everything within him shrank from the disloyalty of
voicing evil against his friends until he had proof. Delight was also
an impossible confidant because of her recently discovered relationship
to the Galbraith family. To breathe a word which might at this
delicate juncture prejudice her against her new relatives would be
contemptible. No, there was nothing to be done but be patient and
maintain in the meantime as close a semblance to a normal attitude as
was possible.
Fortunately the silence that settled down upon the silvered cottage
caused no surprise to any of its occupants. Having been warned not to
chatter, Celestina observed a welcome quietness perfectly understood.
Nor was it strange that in view of the shock Delight had received she
should be more thoughtful than usual. Nobody commented either on
Willie's abandonment of his inventing, or gave heed that he and Robert
Morton spoke little together. How could the Galbraiths, Bob's best
friends, be discussed in his presence? There was abundant explanation,
therefore, why a strained atmosphere should prevail and pass unnoticed
without either Celestina or Delight suspecting that its cause was other
than the disclosures made by Madam Lee on the previous afternoon.
Nevertheless, eager as was each of the household to have speculation
satisfied and the future with whatever it might contain unfold, there
was a simultaneous start of apprehension when the Galbraiths' familiar
red car stopped at the gate of the cottage. From it alighted neither
Mr. Snelling nor any member of the family, but instead the chauffeur
gravely delivered to Robert Morton a hastily scrawled note written in
Mr. Galbraith's spreading hand. Marveling a little that it was he to
whom the communication should be addressed, the young man broke the
seal of the letter.
Madam Lee, he read, weary with excitement, had retired almost
immediately after their departure, the maid attending her having left
her sleeping like a tired child; but when they had gone to arouse her
in the morning, it had been only to find that she had passed quietly
away in her sleep without struggle or suffering. Snelling had gone
over to New York to make the necessary funeral arrangements, and the
family were to follow the next day. There was nothing Bob could do,
but if he and Delight wished to accompany them, Mrs. Galbraith would be
glad to have them. Madam Lee had been devoted to Bob, and it was
Delight's unchallenged right to share in the final obsequies to her
grandmother.
Awed, and in a low voice, Robert Morton read the communication aloud.
"I shall go, of course," he said, with a catch in his voice. "Madam
Lee--was very dear to me. Had she been of my own people I could not
have cared for her more deeply."
"And I--what shall I do?" questioned Delight. The appeal was to Bob,
and the sense of dependence vibrating in it thrilled him with tender
gladness.
"I suppose," he answered gently, "it would make your grandmother happy
to know you were there. Wouldn't it be a token of forgiveness?"
"What do you think, Willie?" the girl asked.
"I agree with Bob that you should go, my dear," the old man replied.
"Somehow it seems as if your grandmother would rest the sweeter for
feelin' you were near by. An' anyhow, it's a mark of respect to the
dead. You're bound to show that, no matter how you feel. I'm pretty
sure that if you an' your grandmother had had the chance to get better
acquainted, you would have loved one another dearly. It was only that
it all came too late for you to feel toward her the same as Bob does."
"Perhaps!" Delight returned with half-dazed seriousness.
So it was decided the two young persons would go with the Galbraiths to
New York, and the next day they joined the Belleport family and
followed the body of the fine, stately old Southern woman to its last
resting place. There were no outside friends among the small group of
mourners, and the two days of constant and intimate companionship drew
them together with a closeness very vital in its results. Delight was
received into the circle with a tact and affection that not only put
her at her ease but won her heart; and Robert Morton, as Madam Lee's
favorite, was as much a part of the family as if he had been born into
it. For the time being, the common grief banished from his mind every
other thought, and once again he and his old-time friends met without a
shadow of distrust between them. Even Cynthia was in her most
appealing mood, casting all caprice and artificiality aside and
centering most of her attention on her newly acquired cousin. The
silent benediction of peace the presence of the dead brought brooded
over them all, and it was with no perfunctory tenderness that Delight
bent and gently kissed her grandmother's cold forehead.
Then came the journey back to Belleport, and as Mr. Galbraith, Roger,
and Howard Snelling were all detained in New York, it was Bob who
brought the party home. In the meantime no opportunity had presented
itself for broaching to the financier the subject of Willie's
invention. The interval during the funeral rites was too inopportune,
and Robert Morton had lacked both the inclination and the courage to
break in upon such an occasion with an affair so sordid and unpleasant.
He had hoped that during the return to the Cape some chance for a talk
with the capitalist would be afforded him. But now there was no help
for it but to go back to Willie Spence's with the weight still heavy on
his heart. Mr. Galbraith, he learned, would have to remain in the city
two weeks or more; and an important business deal would keep Mr.
Snelling at the Long Island plant indefinitely. Hence for the present
there was not a possibility of clearing up the mystery. It was,
however, significant that Snelling evidently considered his part of the
work done; and if Janoah's accusations were founded on fact, as they
appeared to be, it was not surprising that he seized upon the confusion
of the present as a fortunate cover for his exit from Wilton.
The more Robert Morton pondered on the train of events, the less
willing he became to connect Mr. Galbraith with the purloining of
Willie's idea. The financier had intended to do precisely what he had
specified, lend a friendly hand to the old man's scheme. It was
Snelling who had seen in the circumstance something too promising to
let pass and who, without his employer's knowledge, had made bold to
secure the device for his personal profit. In the meanwhile, ignorant
that Robert Morton was cognizant of his cupidity, he was as debonair as
if he had nothing on his conscience. He made himself useful in every
possible direction, and on parting from Bob at the train declared he
should look forward with the greatest anticipation to their future
business association together. How the young man longed to confront
the knave with his crime! It seemed almost imperative that before the
mischief proceeded farther steps should be taken to stop it. But what
proofs had he to present?
No, a middle course was the only thing possible, Bob decided. He must
return to Willie's roof with the atmosphere uncleared and finish the
little that still remained to be done on the invention as if no shadow
clouded his sky. He could not leave Willie in the lurch. Furthermore,
it was out of the question for him to depart from Wilton until he had
come to an understanding with Delight Hathaway. The intimacy of the
past week, with its lights and shadows, had only served to render
stronger the bonds that bound him to her. In every issue the network
of strange events had developed her character, and displayed facets of
such unsuspected force and splendor that where beauty had at first
fascinated it was now the soul behind it that called to him. Truly
Madam Lee had in this grandchild a worthy descendant, and it brought an
added joy to his heart to thus link together the two beings he loved
most deeply.
Therefore he made the journey back to Wilton, bravely resolved to bear
Janoah's taunts and Willie's silent reproaches until the moment came
when he could acquaint Mr. Galbraith with Snelling's perfidy and see
the injustice righted. It was not an enviable position, the one in
which he stood. He felt it to be only human that in the face of this
acid test the old inventor's affection and allegiance toward him should
waver, and that Janoah would detect and rejoice in its unsteadiness.
But as Bob relied upon ultimately solving the conundrum, he felt he
could endure a short interval of unmerited distrust. It was in Delight
and Tiny, who were unconscious of any false note in his relation to the
household, that he placed his hopes for aid. Hence it was with no
small degree of consternation that on reaching Wilton he learned that
the girl had resolved now to return to her own home.
"I have been here over two weeks already," she said to Bob, "and I
really am needed by my own family. They miss me dreadfully when I am
gone. Zenas Henry goes down like a plummet, Abbie says. And then I
have so much to tell them! Besides, now that Aunt Tiny is well again,
there is no use in my remaining."
"There is a great deal of use in it for me!" asserted the young man
moodily.
"Nonsense! You and Willie have your work, and in a day or two you will
be so buried in it you won't know whether I am here or not."
"Delight!"
A warning echo in the word and a quick forward movement caused her to
add hurriedly:
"And--and--anyway, you can come up to our house and see me there. You
will like the three captains and Abbie, you simply can't help it; they
are dears! And you will worship Zenas Henry--at least you will if he
is--I mean sometimes he doesn't--well, you know how older men feel when
younger ones appear. He is very devoted to me and he is always
afraid-- But I am sure he will understand, and that you and he will
get on beautifully together," she concluded with scarlet cheeks.
The clumsy explanation had a dubious ring and Bob frowned.
"You see, your being Aunt Tiny's nephew will help some; he likes her
very much. And of course any friend of Willie's and--and--of mine--"
With every word the formidable Zenas Henry increased in formidableness.
She saw the scowl deepen.
"You will come and see me, won't you?" she pleaded timidly. "I should
be sorry if--"
Robert Morton caught the slender hand and held it firmly.
"I'll come were there a thousand Zenas Henrys!"
"That's nice!" she answered with a nervous laugh. "There won't be a
thousand, though. There never can be but one as good and as dear as he
is! Only remember, you mustn't come right away. I shall have a great
deal to tell them at home, and it won't be easy for Zenas Henry to face
the fact that the Galbraiths have any claims on me. It has always been
his pride that I had no relatives and belonged entirely to him. And I
do, you know," she went on quickly. "Nothing on earth shall take me
from Zenas Henry! I worried a good deal lest Madam L--lest my
grandmother should insist that I spend part of my time with her. But
that is all settled now. I can keep up my friendship with the
Galbraith family by calls and short visits, and everything will go on
as before. I don't want anything changed."
The young man saw her draw in her chin proudly. "Of course I have
forgiven my grandmother," she went on, "but I never can forget that she
made my mother's life unhappy and that she was unkind to my father. So
I never wish to accept any favors from any of them."
"But the Galbraiths are not to blame for the past," ventured Bob, his
loyalty instantly in arms.
"No. But they are Lees."
"Your grandmother was sorry--bitterly sorry," urged the young man in a
persuasive tone. "It was probably her regret that caused her death."
The girl nodded sadly.
"I know," she said. "I realize she lived to regret what she had done.
I am not blaming her. But for all that, she never can mean to me what
she might have meant. Rather I shall always think of her as a
handsome, stately old lady who was your friend and loved you."
She turned to leave him, but he refused to let her go.
"Delight," he cried, drawing her closer, "will your grandmother be
dearer to you because she loved me? Tell me, sweetheart! Do I mean
anything in your life? You are the only thing that matters in mine."
He saw a radiance flash into her wonderful eyes, and in another instant
her head was against his breast.
"It is only because of you, Bob," she whispered, clinging to him, "that
I can forgive the Lees at all."