THE END OF LORD PALSGRAVE.
“Landlord, I have been outrageously insulted in your house, and if you
do not instantly expel these insolent persons, I shall be obliged to
leave myself,” said Lord Palsgrave, approaching the landlord, who had
just arrived at the scene of the excitement.
“Not just yet, I guess,” replied Captain Synders, who did not permit
his victim to get out of the reach of his arm.
“I know nothing about this business,” replied mine host. “Captain
Synders is a constable, and I presume he knows what he is about.”
“I do know just what I’m about,” added the constable.
“I think it is quite proper for the officer to show his warrant,” added
the landlord.
“I haven’t any warrant; but we don’t let a bank robber escape for the
want of one.”
“At least you ought to show some ground for arresting this gentleman.”
“I’m going to search him, and if I don’t find twenty or thirty thousand
dollars in bills of the Centreport Bank upon him, I shall be willing to
wait till I get a warrant, before I take him.”
“Search me! Do you think I will submit to such an unheard-of
indignity?” demanded his lordship, stamping his foot with rage, which,
however, was manufactured for the occasion.
“I guess you will, Nick,” quietly replied the constable.
“Don’t call me Nick, fellow,” foamed the victim.
“Captain Penniman, before you proceed to extreme measures in my house,
I hope you will give me some assurance that there is no mistake about
the person,” interposed the landlord.
“I demand it as my right,” added Lord Palsgrave. “I will appeal to
the British minister at Washington, who is a particular friend of my
father.”
“I shall be very happy to satisfy you, and all present, that there
is no mistake in regard to the person,” I replied. “A man who called
himself Schleifer--though that is probably not his real name--was
taken out of a burning canal-boat on the lake, last evening, by our
party. That man was one of the bank robbers.”
“I never saw or heard of such a man,” protested Lord Palsgrave,
violently.
“I beg his lordship’s pardon, but he rode away from the stable of this
hotel with that man. The stable-keeper assured me the person who went
with him was Lord Palsgrave. I am sure they went off together. The
other man has been arrested.”
I saw that his lordship was startled by this information.
“Did you recognize Lord Palsgrave in the vehicle with the other man?”
asked the landlord.
“I did not, for I could not see his face,” I replied. “But I did
recognize the man who has been arrested, and the stable-keeper said the
other one was his lordship.”
“As you did not identify Lord Palsgrave yourself, there may still be
some mistake.”
“There is a mistake,” said his lordship, warmly.
“Further, this person is not Lord Palsgrave, but Nick Van Wolter, the
son of Captain Van Wolter of the Ucayga. Here are three of us who have
known him for years.”
“If that’s the case, I have nothing to say,” added the landlord.
“Come, Nick, let’s see what you have in your pockets,” said Captain
Synders.
“Landlord, will you suffer this indignity to be inflicted upon me in
your house?” appealed Nick.
“I haven’t anything more to say about it. Dinner is ready, ladies and
gentlemen,” he replied.
But no one was disposed to dine while the issue was pending.
“Mr. Overton, I assure you this is an outrage,” protested Nick.
“If you are not what you represented yourself to be, I have no sympathy
with you,” replied the gentleman addressed, who evidently thought it
necessary to free himself from any suspicion of complicity with the
bank robber.
Nick glanced around the room with all the dignity he could summon to
his aid, and then made a leap towards one of the open windows. The
vigilant constable was too quick for him, and placed a heavy hand upon
him.
“Don’t be in a hurry, Nick,” said the officer, taking from his pocket a
pair of handcuffs.
“What have you there?” demanded Nick.
“Only a pair of irons!”
“Irons! Has it come to this? They will pierce my soul!” exclaimed his
lordship, who had evidently borrowed this fine expression, as he had
his knowledge of heraldry, from the novels he had read.
“They won’t touch your soul, Nick; I’m only going to put them on your
wrists, so that you will hold still, and not jerk about so,” added the
constable, as, with some force, he snapped the irons upon his prisoner.
“Now, we want to know what you have in your pockets, Nick. It’s no use
to jerk; you can’t get away.”
Captain Synders searched his pockets, but did not find anything to
implicate him in the robbery; but he took possession of a bunch of
keys, which he handed to me, and requested me to examine the prisoner’s
effects in his room. The landlord went with us, and we opened his trunk.
“These are the clothes he had on last night,” said I, taking from the
trunk a tweed suit. “You see they are very much soiled with smut and
oil.”
“Do you find any tools?” asked the landlord.
“No; I think the other robber provided them,” I replied, as I pulled
all the clothing out of the trunk.
In the bottom of it I found a packet done up in brown paper. It was
about the length and width of a bank note, and I was sure it contained
money. I opened it.
“There’s no mistake about that,” said the landlord, as I came to the
bills. “Centreport Bank,” he added, looking at the face of the notes.
“I was sure of my man. See here,” I replied, pointing to the address
of the cashier on the brown paper, which had probably enclosed some
article sent to Mr. Barnes at the bank.
“That’s a pile of money,” added the landlord, as I turned over the
notes.
“I judge, from what the other robber said, that there must be twenty or
thirty thousand dollars.”
We returned to the parlor, and exhibited the result of the search.
There was no longer any doubt as to the guilt of his lordship, and the
guests went to their dinner, congratulating themselves, perhaps, that,
after all, Lord Palsgrave was not “the biggest toad in the puddle.”
Mr. Overton, however, did not go with them, but paced the room in high
excitement. It was easy to understand that the situation was very far
from being agreeable to him.
“Well, I suppose we may as well be getting back to Centreport as fast
as possible,” said Captain Synders, who was probably in a hurry to
march his prisoner in triumph into the town.
“His lordship has not dined yet,” suggested Waddie.
“I don’t want any dinner,” said Nick, bursting into tears, as the
extent of his reverses crowded upon his mind.
Half an hour before, every one treated him with profound respect and
great consideration; now every one despised him, and looked down upon
him with contempt. His tears were moving, and, as he had laid aside
his lordly airs, we were not disposed to ridicule him. If he had been
sincerely repentant over his crime, instead of being sorry for its mere
exposure, we could have pitied and sympathized with him.
“Take me away from here as quick as you can,” added Nick. “I hope you
will let me go to my room and change my clothes.”
“That suit is good enough,” replied the constable.
“I would rather not go to Centreport in this dress.”
Waddie and I interfered in his favor, for we were not disposed to
increase his suffering, and the constable consented to take him to his
room to clothe himself in a more becoming suit.
“Captain Penniman, you have not told me yet where Miss Dornwood is,”
said Mr. Overton.
“I did not agree to tell you, but only your friend,” I replied.
“He is not my friend now. He is an impostor,” added Mr. Overton, warmly.
Nick glanced at him as he uttered these words, and appeared to regard
the epithet as very unkind from him.
“Tell him, Wolf,” said Waddie.
“Miss Dornwood is at Mr. Pinkerton’s, in Ruoara,” I added.
The guardian bit his lip, and seemed to be very much disconcerted.
His plans for the fortune, as well as those of Nick, were doubtless
very much deranged. He said no more, and Captain Synders conducted
his prisoner to his room. As the injury which Tom Walton had received
rendered it doubtful whether we should return to complete my vacation
in this part of the lake, I concluded that I would take my bear home
in the Belle. I promised to meet the rest of our party at the boat in
a short time, and hastened over to Captain Portman’s. I found him at
home; and, as we walked out to the quarters of Bruin, he told me he had
another bear on his hands.
“Another!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, the twin brother of mine,” replied Captain Portman. “Major
Tompkins, a friend of mine in Hitaca, brought them down from the woods,
where an old hunter had reared them as pets. They amused him so much
that he bought them to keep in his garden; but the illness of his wife
compelled him to go to Europe, and as he expected to be absent two or
three years, he gave one to my neighbor, Mr. Walker, and the other to
me. Mine has never been cross, though they say the other one has been
a little ugly; but found they had almost choked him by buckling the
strap too tight around his neck. He has been as pleasant as a kitten
since he has been here. Now, Wolf, if you want both of them, you shall
have them.”
I did not want both of them, and I was rather embarrassed by the
offer; but when we reached the quarters of the two bears, I changed
my mind. I saw them play together, and I laughed till my side ached
at their gambols. It was a pity to part two such excellent friends,
and I decided to accept Captain Portman’s offer. I stepped up to the
one whose acquaintance I had made before. He appeared to recognize me,
stood up, and presented his paw. The other had been trained in like
manner, and performed the same trick. I shook hands with them, and
found they were both ready for a frolic, in which, however, I had not
time to engage.
I told the two men whom Captain Portman called where the Belle lay,
and they led the bears down to the lake, while their employer walked
with me. I related to him the particulars of the bank robbery and the
capture of the robbers. He was very much astonished to learn that the
lord at the hotel was one of the criminals.
When we reached the lake, I found Captain Synders and Waddie with the
prisoner, who was still in irons. The constable was very impatient, and
when he saw the two bears, which were to be his fellow-passengers, he
declared he would not go in the boat with them. Indeed, I found myself
that two bears were rather too many for the space the Belle afforded;
but Captain Portman relieved me of the difficulty by promising to send
one of his men to Middleport with them in the steamer the next day.
Captain Synders embarked his prisoner, and we were soon driving down
the lake. Nick Van Wolter was the image of despair. The brilliant
calculations for the future had utterly failed, and instead of marrying
an heiress, he was to spend a long time in the penitentiary. I have no
doubt he was willing to believe that “the way of the transgressor is
hard.”