THE MELODY AND MYSTERY OF LIFE
Swift the way and joyous now, that same road over which Adrian had
journeyed on the day before, so grudgingly. Yet not half swift enough
that through express by which they left the city limits for the little
town of Sing Sing, or as would have better suited Indian Joe, of
Ossining. Scene of so many tragedies and broken hearts; to be, to-day,
a scene of unutterable gladness.
Margot's eyes were on the flying landscape, counting the lessening
landmarks as one counts off the stitches of a tedious seam, and with
each mile of progress her impatience growing.
"Oh! Adrian! shall we never be there! I can hardly breathe. My heart
beats so--I cannot wait, I cannot!"
In the seat behind them Joe still carefully held the old-fashioned
shawl and bonnet, which Angelique had decided her young traveler
should--but never would--wear. Her hair was out of that decorous plait
which had been commanded, and there had been neither time nor friend
to substitute new clothes for old. Therefore, it was just as she
looked in the woodland that Margot looked now when she was first to
meet her father's eyes; and neither she, nor even Adrian, cared one
whit for the curious glances which scrutinized her unusual,
comfortable attire.
What were clothes? Money could soon buy those, if they were needed,
and there would be money abundant, Adrian thought, fingering the
"specimens" which the girl desired old Joseph to produce from that
wonderful pocket of his, which held so few, yet just the very things
that were important.
"Copper, Margot. I'm sure of it. I have a friend, a man who deals in
mining stocks, and I've seen samples at his office which do not look
as pure to me as this."
"These pieces came from the deep cave under the island. Where I was
that day during the great storm, the day you came to us. I don't see
why there shouldn't be plenty of the metal there, for we're in nearly
the same latitude as the copper regions of the great lakes. I hope we
may find it in large enough quantities to pay for getting it out."
Adrian was surprised and not wholly pleased by what seemed a mercenary
taint upon her fine character, but was ashamed of his momentary
misjudgment when she added:
"Because, you see, we've suffered so much for money's sake that we
want to use it ourselves to make other people happy. I know what I
will do with it, if I ever have much, or even little."
"What is that?"
"I will use it to defend the wrongfully imprisoned. To help the poor
men when they come out, even if they have been wicked once. To
comfort the families of those who suffer disgrace and poverty. To
forward justice--justice. Oh! Adrian, how far now?"
"Fifteen minutes, now. Only fifteen minutes!"
"They will never pass! They are longer than the fifteen years of my
ignorance, when I didn't know I had a father. My father. My father."
Over and over, she said the words softly, caressingly, as if she could
never have enough of all they meant to her; and the listening lad
asked once, a trifle warningly:
"Are you not at all afraid, Margot, that this unknown father will be
different from your anticipations? Remember, though so close of kin,
you are still strangers."
"Why, Adrian! My mother loved him and my uncle. I love him, too,
unknowing; but I tell you now, this minute, if I found him all that
was bad and repulsive, I should still love him and all the more. So
love him that he would grow good again and forget all the evil he
must have seen in that evil place. For he is my father, my father."
"Have no fear, I only meant to try you. He is all that you dream and
more. He has the noblest face I ever looked on; yes, not even
excepting your uncle's."
"What? you--have seen him?"
"Yes. Yesterday;" at which she sat in silent wonder till he said: "Now
come. We're there!"
When they stepped out at the final station Adrian called for the
swiftest horses waiting possible fares, and burst in upon his sister's
presence with the demand, almost breathlessly spoken:
"Number 526, at once, Kate. This is Margot---- Ah! mother! Margot! The
money's found--Number 526--quick!"
The excitement was all his by then. The girl to whom this moment was
so much more eventful stood pale and quiet, with a luminous joy in her
blue eyes that was more pathetic than tears.
"Adrian, are you crazy? Upon my word, I almost believe you are!
Running away as you did last night and coming back again to-day, in
this wild fashion. What do you mean? Who is this--this young person?
And what in the world do you, can you, possibly, want of Number 526?"
He paid no attention to her many questions, nor even to his mother who
clutched his arm in extreme agitation. He had caught the tones of a
violin played softly, tenderly, and oh! so sadly.
"Yes, that's Number 526, since you wish to see him, though it's quite
against the rules and--he's practicing with his men----"
"Come, Margot. Come."
The player was in the little alcove behind the screen and palms, and
did not even look up as the two entered his presence, for his own soul
had floated far away from that dread place, on the strains of that
music which no prison bars could confine.
"Father!"
[Illustration: "MY FATHER! I HAVE COME"]
The music ceased, but only for an instant. Once the player had heard a
voice like that--clear, sweet, exquisitely modulated. The voice of the
wife he had loved, silent in death these many years. But the tone had
been sufficient to stir his soul to even deeper harmonies: and he
stood there forgetful of his shaven head, his prison stripes, once
more a man among men.
"Father! My father! I have come! Margot, baby Margot! Come to set you
free!"
Her arms were about his neck, her wet face pressed close to his, her
tender kisses poured upon his lips, his dazed, unseeing eyes, his
trembling shoulders.
Then he put out his hand and held her from him, that he might the
better see her fairness, hear her marvelous story--told in few words,
and comprehend what was the merciful, the Heaven-sent bliss that had
come to him.
"Cecily! Margot! My daughter with her mother's face! Free! Free! Oh!
God, support me!"
The indomitable courage which suffering had had no power to weaken
failed in this supreme moment; and as, in his hours of darkness, he
had clung to his music for sustenance so he turned to it now. He
pressed his violin to his shoulder, leaned his cheek upon it, and from
its quivering strings drew out in melody the story of his fifteen
years. All the bitterness, the sadness, the sweetness; and that
exalted faith which had made the mystery of his life, and his shame,
almost divine.
Blinded by their own tears, one by one, the others left them, and when
the last strain ended in a burst of joyous victory, there were but two
to hear it--parent and child.
* * * * *
Adrian watched the train that bore them homeward roll away, with a
heart both heavy and glad. In fancy he could see them reach that
journey's end; with brother clasping the hand of brother, the silent,
wonderful forest receiving them into its restful solitude. He could
see that great room which had waited for its occupant so many years,
and which was now all aglow from its flame-filled fireplace, and
redolent with wild flowers. He could see the wide couch drawn up
before the hearth and a toil-worn man, who had not rested before in
fifteen years, lying there with grateful, adoring eyes fixed upon that
pictured Face of The Man of Sorrows.
There was a girl in the room, moving everywhere in needless, tender
care that nothing should be wanting. As if anything ever could be
wanting where Margot was! The innocent, great-hearted child of nature,
whose love no obstacle could overcome, and who hesitated at no danger
for love's sweet sake.
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* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors;
otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the
author's words and intent.