A CRUSHING TROUBLE.
John Hubbard sat like one stunned, upon realizing the full import
of what he had read of Allison’s probable fate, and at once he
seemed to comprehend her object in going to Boston.
He also had heard of the Mannings’ return from Rome, and, knowing
how fond of her cousins Allison had always been, he had not a doubt
that she had fled to them for protection and assistance.
But the shock which he had at first experienced was almost
immediately followed by a thrill of exultation.
“That settles everything,” he muttered; “I shall now have no fear
of her contesting Mrs. Adam Brewster’s claims, on the ground that a
will was made in her favor, and thus, perhaps, securing a division
of the property. Everything will now naturally go to the new
claimants, and the Brewster fortune is mine. I will marry the girl,
Anna, thus making their interests identical with mine, take her
abroad for a year or two, to polish her off, then I can come back
to take my place with the other millionaires of the city. There
need be no more scheming or plodding for you, John; your future is
an assured success; henceforth, you can rest upon your oars and
have a jolly good time,” he concluded, with a sigh of infinite
content.
His once boasted affection for Allison--what had become of it? He
had been momentarily shocked, but he did not appear to experience
the slightest grief in view of her untimely end. “The high-spirited
little minx” had dared to defy him, thus arousing his anger and
malice, and since his greed for gold now bade fair to be fully
gratified, she was apparently no more to him than a worm that had
been crushed in his path.
Still, there were certain duties devolving upon him, certain
observances to which he must conform, and he had no intention of
being criticized for neglect of them. Consequently, he started
directly for Boston, for the purpose of identifying his ward and
properly attending to everything that might be necessary.
But when he went to the morgue, and made inquiries, he was appalled
upon being told that the body of the young lady had already been
identified and removed.
“It cannot be possible,” he exclaimed. “Are you sure it was Miss
Brewster’s body which was taken away?”
“Certainly,” the official replied; “a Russia-leather card-case,
containing cards bearing the name of Miss Brewster, had been found
upon the person of the young lady, thus proving her to be the
person the gentleman was inquiring for.”
Mr. Hubbard thought possibly the Mannings might have identified
Allison and cared for her, and, with this idea in mind, he sought
Mr. Manning at the Vendome.
But Mr. Manning was horrified upon being interviewed upon the
subject. He had read an account of the accident, and had seen the
name of Brewster among the list of killed, but had not once thought
of Allison in connection with the event, supposing the person to
belong to some other family of the same name.
Mr. Hubbard found it somewhat embarrassing to explain how his ward
happened to be traveling to Boston alone; but, thinking that the
truth might as well come out first as last, he related something
of the circumstances connected with the appearance of Mrs. Adam
Brewster and her daughter; said that Allison had become very angry
upon learning the truth, and thus, he supposed, she had taken it
into her head to come to her cousins in Boston.
A diligent search was instituted, and many inquiries made for the
body of the missing girl; but all to no purpose--some one had taken
care of it--every victim had been identified by friends and taken
away.
The Mannings were overwhelmed with grief, and Mr. Hubbard was
finally forced to return to New York, also very much disturbed by
the mystery which seemed to shroud the fate of his late ward.
Two months passed, during which the plans of the wily schemer--the
chief obstacles having been removed--progressed to his entire
satisfaction.
His application to the courts for the recognition of Mrs. Adam
Brewster and Miss Anna Brewster, as the only lawful heirs of the
late banker, had been granted, and their claims established,
notwithstanding the fact that Mr. Charles Manning had come forward
to contest them, on behalf of his wife, who, he asserted, was the
niece of Mr. Brewster, and his only living relative. He utterly
repudiated the story regarding that gentleman’s early marriage and
subsequent separation from the woman in question.
But his claim was overruled, in view of the preponderance
of evidence upon the other side. The old love-letters, the
marriage-certificate, the certified copy of the record of the
transaction, together with quite a sensational story regarding
the early married life of the couple, their occasional disputes,
which finally ended in a violent quarrel and separation, all having
been very cleverly arranged and sustained, were considered proof
positive that the widow and her daughter were the only legal heirs,
and the case was very shortly decided in their favor.
Of course, it created a great deal of sensation and gossip, but,
like all other affairs of a similar nature, it had its “nine days’”
run, and was then forgotten in the excitement pertaining to some
newer scandal.
A few days after the decision of the court was rendered, Miss
Anna Brewster became Mrs. John Hubbard. Mrs. Adam Brewster was
handsomely pensioned off, and luxuriously settled in an up-town
apartment, where she was to live at her ease, while the newly
wedded couple were traveling in Europe, and the “Brewster Case” was
supposed to be finally settled.
Of all these happenings, however, Gerald, as yet, knew nothing,
for, shortly after Allison’s departure for Newport, Mr. Lyttleton
had been again suddenly summoned abroad, by his sister, to discuss
some new feature which had unexpectedly arisen in connection with
the lawsuit which he was conducting for her.
Gerald and Allison had agreed to continue their correspondence as
heretofore, but he did not hear from her once before he left. This,
although a disappointment to him, did not trouble him, especially
as he attributed it to the confusion and many cares incident upon
opening the villa and getting settled for the summer.
He had written to her once or twice, and, upon learning of his
plans, wrote again, telling her the date of his sailing, giving,
also, his London address, and begging her to write him immediately.
But John Hubbard had already intercepted all letters written by
the lovers, and this shared the same fate as the others; and thus
Allison did not know of Gerald’s departure until her guardian
informed her of the fact.
Thus as weeks passed, after his arrival in London, and Gerald
received no word from his betrothed, he began to grow very unhappy
and anxious about her.
He sent letter after letter to her, only to have them fall into the
hands of that arch-plotter, who did not hesitate to open and read
them, then chuckle exultantly over the success of his scheme and
the misery of his hated rival.
Finally, becoming almost distracted over this mysterious silence,
our hero began to suspect that his correspondence was intercepted,
and he realized that he must find some other way of communicating
with Allison.
Accordingly, he wrote to one of the clerks in the New York office,
telling him something of his trouble, and asking him to find some
means of conveying the enclosed letter to Miss Brewster, and
secure a reply to it, if possible.
But before he could get a response to this appeal, Mr. Lyttleton
was obliged to make a trip to Berlin, to obtain some important
data, and here they were detained two or three weeks.
Thus Gerald’s wild grief may be imagined when, upon his return to
London, he found awaiting him a letter containing the announcement
of Allison’s tragic death, and which, together with accompanying
New York papers, gave a full account of the sad event, and of the
subsequent litigation in connection with the Brewster estate, the
result of which was the transfer of everything into the hands of
the acknowledged widow and daughter of the late banker.
The latest paper announcing the marriage of John Hubbard to “the
beautiful Miss Anna Brewster,” had not been forwarded; thus Gerald
could not know that his old enemy was now virtually the possessor
of the great fortune that had been willed to Allison.
Gerald was so prostrated by the terrible shock consequent upon this
blighting news that he lay ill for nearly a fortnight at his hotel,
and narrowly escaped having brain fever. When he was finally able
to resume his business, he looked like the ghost of his former
self; he seemed to be bereft of all courage and desire for life,
and it was only by the persistent exercise of all the will-power he
possessed that he was enabled to fulfill his duty to his employer.
Mr. Lyttleton, to whom he freely confided his trouble, sympathized
deeply with him, and tried to induce him to take a rest--to go to
Paris, or even to Rome, for a change. But Gerald only shuddered at
this proposal.
“Oh, I do not want to rest. I do not want a chance to think. I
shall lose my mind if I am left to myself!” he responded in a tone
of despair that keenly smote the kind heart of his friend. “Give me
work--piles of work,” he added nervously; “I do not care how hard
you crowd me, if it will serve to occupy my thoughts and keep me
from dwelling upon that railway horror and upon that knave who, I
firmly believe, drove my darling to her death.”
So Mr. Lyttleton made work for him, realizing his need of
employment, but the white, drawn face of the bereaved lover haunted
him continually, until he began to feel as if he also had been
personally afflicted.
Had it not been for the deep and absorbing interest which, previous
to this, Gerald had begun to take in the wonderful case upon which
his employer was engaged, it is doubtful if he would have been able
to bear up during these first dark days of his crushing trouble.
Mr. Lyttleton’s sister had, when very young, married an Englishman,
and under very peculiar circumstances.
The home of the lawyer, during his youth, had been in a small town
in Illinois; and, educational advantages being at that time very
meager in their vicinity, Mabel Lyttleton had been sent East to
pursue her studies, at a noted seminary in one of the suburbs of
Boston.
While there she had become acquainted with Charles Bromley, an
Englishman, who was making a tour of this country, and just at that
time visiting some relatives who resided in the vicinity of the
above-mentioned seminary.
The young man proceeded at once, upon their introduction, to fall
violently in love with pretty Miss Lyttleton. His affection was
most fervently reciprocated, and ere long both grew to feel that
life apart from the other would be unendurable.
Mr. Bromley intended to remain in the United States some six months
longer, but, just on the eve of the holiday recess of the seminary,
he was suddenly recalled to England by the peremptory order of his
father.
He was somewhat puzzled by this command, but, while discussing it
with his betrothed, and arranging to return to her by the time her
school-days were over, it suddenly struck him that it might have
some connection with an old project of his father to consummate
a union with a distant cousin, whose rent-roll amounted to some
thousands of pounds per annum.
“I will fix things,” said this young man to himself; “I will marry
my little ‘prairie flower’ here and now, and then all the fathers
in creation cannot compel me to marry anybody else.”
Whereupon, he broached the subject to Miss Mabel, who--though she
shrank from a secret marriage, as any pure-minded, conscientious
girl would do--found that her affection for her handsome lover was
stronger than her sense of filial duty, and she reluctantly yielded
to young Bromley’s persuasions.
They were very quietly married on Christmas eve, and young Bromley
sailed for Europe the first day of January, but promised faithfully
that he would return in season to accompany his wife to her home,
upon her graduation from school, the following summer, when he
would bear all the responsibility of their union, and boldly claim
her of her father; her mother was not living.
Letters passed between them every week, and they continued to be
very happy in the knowledge of the secret tie that united them.
Young Bromley found that ill health had prompted his father to
summon him home, for the cares pertaining to Sir Charles Bromley’s
estate had become too heavy for him, and he needed help.
The marriage with the distant cousin was broached, for the baronet
earnestly wished to see his son settled in life, while, too, he
had an eye to the welding of two fortunes, which would result from
the union; but when he discovered his son’s opposition to such an
alliance, he did not urge it, for he was no tyrant, and believed a
man had the right to choose his own wife.
The old gentleman became so much better as the summer drew on
apace, he consented to allow the young man to complete his
interrupted tour in America, and the little wife so patiently
awaiting him was finally made supremely happy by having the day
fixed for his sailing.
But, alas! just the week previous to her graduation, there came a
letter stating that Sir Charles had been prostrated by a stroke of
paralysis, and the young husband could not leave until his father
was declared out of danger.
This was a terrible blow, and at first it seemed as if she could
not bear it; but her friend and confidante, Helen Atwood, wrote
to Mr. Lyttleton, begging that Mabel might be allowed to remain
with her during the remainder of the summer, as her parents were
going abroad for three or four months, and she would be very lonely
during their absence. This petition was granted, greatly to the
delight of the two friends, who retired to Mr. Atwood’s country
home, a few miles out of the city, to rusticate and enjoy each
other’s companionship, and most earnestly hoping that Mr. Bromley
would put in an appearance before the visit should come to an end.
The latter part of August there came a letter from Bromley Court,
announcing the death of the baronet, after a second attack of
paralysis; the next week the waiting wife received another letter,
saying that, at last, her husband was free to come to her, and
would sail five days later, and would be with her in a little more
than a week afterward. But the steamer on which he sailed was the
ill-fated _Catalonia_, which was wrecked the sixth day out, its few
survivors being picked up the following morning by another vessel.
But, alas! among the names of the passengers who were lost was that
of Sir Charles Bromley.
The news of this terrible tragedy, coming, as it did, just at the
moment when her cup of joy seemed full, was more than the waiting
wife could bear. As her horrified glance fell upon the name of her
idolized husband in the list of the dead, a shriek of agony burst
from her lips, and she sank to the floor in strong convulsions, the
fatal paper clutched in her rigid hands.
For several days she lay at the point of death, but mercifully
unconscious of her own suffering, and her apparently blighted
life. Then she slowly began to rally, coming back to life and
consciousness, but so broken-hearted that it was painful to be in
her presence.
But, three weeks afterward, her mourning was turned into joy by
the sudden appearance of her husband, who, after various thrilling
experiences, had been rescued, with two or three others, by a
sailing-vessel which had arrived in port only that morning, when he
immediately hastened to his wife.