THE EMPTY HOUSE.
When David Rice left the jail that night, he had the certificate of his
sister's marriage in his bosom, and under it was a stern resolve to find
out the man who had left her to the chance of all this suffering, and
bring him to a stern account.
There was no need of his going further now; all the bright hopes of the
morning were swept away. The broken household around that prison was all
he could find of his old home. But the gloom of this place was too
oppressive; fresh from the broad sweep of the ocean, he could not
breathe in all this close misery.
The next day, Rice escaped from the contemplation of all this ruin, and
took a long walk into the country, bending his way toward Hotchkistown.
The rapid exercise cooled the fever of his blood, while it deepened the
profound compassion excited by his sister's wrongs. As he was passing
under the shadows of the East Rock, a traveller, coming from an opposite
direction, appeared in the distance. Rice instantly knew the little
valise and the upright figure of the man. It was the companion from whom
he had parted only the day before. But why had he returned so soon? What
was the meaning of that quick, almost fierce, walk?
The two men drew close to each other, and, pre-occupied as they were,
stopped abruptly in mutual surprise, each astonished by the change that
had come upon the other.
"Rice, my poor friend!"
"Captain, what is the matter? I know that you have heard; but my
troubles can't have done this."
The stranger wrung the hand which Rice held out, but he did not
speak--the encounter had come upon him suddenly.
"You found all well at home, I hope," said Rice. "Don't tell me that any
thing has gone wrong there, I couldn't stand it."
The stranger wrung his friend's hand again. "Rice, I found the house
empty."
"Empty! What, moved?"
"Gone, both of them; God only knows where."
"Gone!"
"No one can tell me where. The house was shut up. The grass had grown
high around the gate. The bucket from long disuse had dropped to pieces
on the well-pole. This is all that I can gather of a certainty."
"And did the neighbors know nothing?"
"They told me a great deal, but it led to nothing; my wife really gave
no one an idea of what she intended to do. I see how it is; she was very
proud, and thinking herself compelled to work for a living went off into
some strange place. It was like her, but where can I go, how search her
out? She left no trace. Surely she might have waited a few months
longer!"
The proud anguish in his friend's voice drew Rice from his own troubles.
"Come," he said, "I will turn back, and we will talk this over. Some way
will be found. 'Never give up the ship.' That has been our motto for
many a day, captain. The storm has burst on me, and it may reach you,
but we'll sail in the same boat anyhow."
"But this suspense is terrible, Rice. Does it seem possible that a man
should be made so wretched in a single day? But for this hard walk I
should have gone crazy."
"I know what it is, captain; all my timbers are shaking now with what
happened yesterday, but I've seen many a wreck come up shipshape again.
Let's keep afore the breeze, if it does blow a gale. I feel sartin that
our course lies the same way, somehow. Here, give us hold of your
valise. You look clean tuckered out."
The man surrendered his valise with a faint smile, saying:
"I only intended to go on a little till the stage overtook me, but
forgot all about it, or that I was walking fast, till ten minutes' rest
convinced me how tired I was." That moment the heavy stage-coach came
swinging round a corner of the turnpike, its four horses galloping
forward in a cloud of dust, through which a bright, boyish face was seen
leaning out of the window.
"Hallo, there, I say, you driver, let me out--hurry--can't you hear a
fellow? What are you thinking on?"
The driver heard this energetic shout above the tramp of his horses, and
drew up, covering the travellers by the way-side with a storm of dust.
The lad opened the heavy stage door for himself and sprang out, telling
the driver, with a magnificent flourish of the hand, that he could treat
himself with the extra fare, paid in advance, from Hotchkistown to New
Haven. Then he began advising two old ladies in the back seat to take a
little more room and make themselves comfortable, a piece of
consideration that was cut short by a sharp crash of the door, and a
lurch of the stage, which set the establishment in motion again.
Left alone in the street our friend Tom took a rapid survey of the two
men, and advanced toward them, lifting his new straw hat, which sported
a red ribbon around the crown, after a fashion which he had admired
greatly in little Paul, and regarding this a proper occasion, practiced
with considerable effect. He glanced at Rice with a rather dissatisfied
air, and partly turned his back on him while addressing the other
person.
"I reckoned I should find you somewhere on the road, captain, and so cut
after," he said, turning his back decidedly on Rice. "Expected to find
you all alone, though."
"This person is my friend."
"Yes, sir, but he isn't mine, so if you'd just as lief step round back
of that juniper bush, mebby I'll tell you something."
The person addressed as captain accepted this invitation, and walked to
the other side of a juniper tree, which stood close by, heavy with
clusters of blue berries. Tom followed the stranger with one hand thrust
into his trowser's pocket, from which came a faint rustle of paper.