STARTING IN SEARCH OF THE COPPER PRINCESS
Viewed through the sanguine eyes of youth, the possession of a
half-interest in a copper mine seemed to offer a ready solution of
Peveril's recent difficulties. He vaguely recalled stories of great
fortunes made in copper, and speculated concerning the market value of
his newly discovered property. "There must be plenty of people ready
to buy such things, if they are only offered cheaply enough," he said
to himself; "and Heaven knows I wouldn't hold out for any fancy price.
Ten thousand dollars, or even five, would be sufficient for the Norway
trip, and after that something would be certain to turn up."
Of all his trials none had seemed so hard to bear as the giving up of
that journey to Norway, and now it might be accomplished, after all.
He had written several letters to Rose since reaching New York, and at
first they had been filled with hopes of a speedy reunion. Then, as he
began to realize the condition of his fortunes, they became less
frequent and less hopeful, until for some weeks, not knowing what to
write, he had not written at all.
Now filled with a new courage, he wrote a long and cheerful letter,
in which he stated a belief that his business troubles were so nearly
ended that he would speedily be able to join his friends in Norway.
This letter, finished and mailed, the young mine-owner visited his
lawyer, to inform him of his discovery and learn its probable value.
Mr. Ketchum smiled grimly as he glanced at the contract on which
Peveril was building such high hopes, and then, handing it back, said,
pityingly:
"My dear boy, I hate to dash your hopes, but I doubt if this thing is
worth anything more than the paper on which it is written. Boise
Carson brought it to us years ago, and we looked into it at that time.
We discovered that a property located somewhere in Northern Michigan,
and supposed to be rich in copper, had been purchased at a stiff price
by your father and this Ralph Darrell, who was a banker in one of the
New England cities--Boston, I believe. They christened it the 'Copper
Princess,' invested nearly a million dollars in a complete
mining-plant, and sank a shaft into barren rock. Not one cent did the
mine ever yield, and the deeper they went the poorer became their
prospects. Finally, Darrell, completely ruined financially, became
crazed by his troubles and disappeared; nor has he ever been heard
from since. Your father, having put half of his fortune into the
venture, brooded over its loss until his death, which, I am convinced,
was largely caused by the failure of the Copper Princess."
"What became of the property after that?" asked Peveril, who had
listened with a sinking heart to this recital.
"I believe it stands to-day, as it was abandoned years ago, one of the
many monuments of ruined hopes in that country of squandered
fortunes."
"But there is copper in that region, is there not?"
"Certainly there is, and in fabulous quantity, but apparently not in
the immediate vicinity of the Copper Princess."
"Did you visit the place yourself?"
"No. We conducted our inquiries through a mine-owner of Hancock, which
was at that time the nearest town of importance to the property."
"Does your correspondent still live there?"
"I believe so. At any rate, he did within a year."
"Will you give me a note of introduction to him, and also a paper of
identification, by which I may substantiate my claim to a
half-ownership in the Copper Princess?"
"Certainly I will; but may I ask how you propose to use such
documents? You surely do not intend to visit the property with the
hope that anything can be realized from it?"
"I don't think I have much hope of any kind just now," replied
Peveril, bitterly. "But I suppose there is as much work to be done in
the copper country as anywhere else, while my chances of obtaining
employment there will at least be as good as they are here. Besides,
it will be a sort of satisfaction to gaze upon the only existing
evidence that there ever was a fortune in the family. You said that
buildings of some sort had been erected on the property, did you not?"
"Yes, according to my recollection there was quite a village of
miners' houses, besides all the other necessary structures."
"Then I may at least discover a roof under which I can dwell, rent
free, while the sensation of finding myself lord of a manor will be
decidedly novel."
Having thus decided upon a course of action, our young mine-owner lost
no time in carrying out his newly formed plans. That very afternoon he
purchased a ticket for Buffalo, from which point he proposed to
economize his slender resources by taking a lake steamer to his point
of destination. His last duty before leaving New York, and the one
from which he shrank most, was the writing of a second letter to Rose,
telling her that the trip to Norway was no longer a possibility, so
far as he was concerned. He wrote:
"I am suddenly confronted with the necessity of taking rather a
long Western journey, to investigate the condition of a mine in
which I own a half-interest. I hate to go, because every mile
will lengthen the distance between us, and am more bitterly
disappointed than I can express at being compelled to give up
our Norwegian trip. But my call to the West is imperative, and
must be obeyed. So, dear, let us bear our disappointment as
best we can, for I hope it is one to you as well as to me, and
look forward to a joyful reunion in this city next autumn."
The epistle, of which the above is but a fragment, not only caused
Miss Bonnifay to utter an impatient exclamation as she read it, but
also led to complications.
Feeling that, with Peveril safely across the Atlantic, there might be
some hope for him, Owen had reconsidered his determination not to go
to Norway, and had written from Oxford, offering to escort the ladies
on that trip. His letter reached them in company with that from
Peveril announcing that he too would shortly be with them. Thereupon
Mrs. Bonnifay replied to Owen that, while they should be delighted to
have him join their party, he must not inconvenience himself to do so,
as Mr. Peveril's business was in such shape that he would be able to
carry out his original intention of accompanying them.
Then came Peveril's second letter, stating that he could not leave
America, after all, and the elder lady hurriedly penned the following
note:
"MY DEAR MR. OWEN:
"We are so glad that you can accompany us to Norway, the more
so that Mr. Peveril will, after all, be prevented from so
doing. He has just written that business of the utmost
importance, connected with an immensely valuable mine that he
owns somewhere in the West, will prevent his leaving America
this summer. Of course he is in despair, and all that, while we
are awfully sorry for him, but we shall not allow our grief to
interfere in the least with the pleasure we are anticipating
from a trip to Norway under your escort. Hoping, then, to see
you here very soon,
"I remain," etc., etc.
Quickly as this letter followed its immediate predecessor, it arrived
too late to accomplish its purpose; for, on the very day that he
received it, Owen had cabled his acceptance of a position offered him
in the United States and procured his ticket for New York.
"Was ever a man so cursed by fate!" he cried, as he finished reading
Mrs. Bonnifay's note; "or, rather, by the stupidity of a blundering
idiot! I don't believe Dick Peveril cares a rap for the girl; if he
did, he would not desert her on any such flimsy pretext. The idea of
his having business with a mine! He never did have any business, and
never will. How I hate the fellow!"
With this, Mr. Owen composed a letter to Mrs. Bonnifay, in which his
regrets at the miscarriage of their plans were skilfully interwoven
with insinuations that possibly Peveril had found America to hold even
greater attractions than Norway. He also promised to keep them
informed concerning the latest New York news.
This promise he redeemed two weeks later by forwarding whatever of
gossip he could gather regarding Peveril. It included the information
that the latter had not only lost his fortune, but had sought so
unsuccessfully for employment in the city that he had finally been
obliged to leave it, and no one knew whither he had gone. Having
accomplished this piece of work, Mr. Owen also departed from New York,
and turned his face westward.
In the mean time, Peveril, happily unconscious of these several
epistles, was finding his own path beset by trials such as he had
never encountered on any previous journey, for they were those caused
by a scarcity of funds with which to meet his every-day expenses.
His determination to economize failed because of his ignorance of the
first principles of economy. Besides that, his appearance, his manner,
his dress, and his personal belongings were all so many protests
against economy. Thus, when he inquired concerning a hotel in Buffalo,
no one thought of naming any save the most expensive, and he drove to
it in a carriage, because he did not know how else to reach it. Then
it happened that the first boat leaving for the Superior country was
the _Northland_, one of the most luxurious and extravagant of lake
craft. To be sure, she was also the swiftest, and would carry him
through without loss of time; but when he left her at the Sault, as he
found he must in order to reach the copper country, his scanty stock
of money was depleted beyond anything he had deemed possible on so
short a trip. From the Sault he travelled by rail, and finally reached
Hancock with but five dollars in his pocket.
Then, failing to find the only person to whom he had a note of
introduction, and also being unable to obtain work, he finally
expended his last dollar for transportation to Red Jacket, where he
knew he must either find employment or starve. And thus was our hero
led to the point at which we first made his acquaintance.