STARTLING DISCOVERIES
"You say you have something to speak about," added the boy, looking into
the enchanting face, as it reflected the light from the windows near at
hand; "I have only to suggest that it took you a good time to find it
out."
"It is not I, but you who are to blame."
"Possibly I am to be blamed for being born poor while you are rich; but I
have paid for my mistake, and it is now too late to correct it."
The conversation had reached this point when the two seemed to conclude
it was altogether too public to be in good taste. Several persons,
standing near, stepped a little closer, so as to catch every word.
"It is so warm in there," said Dolly; "even with the windows open, that I
came outdoors to get the fresh air. Aunt Maggie put my shawl about my
shoulders so that I wouldn't take cold. Now, Ben, if you will walk with
me to the summer-house yonder, we can sit down by ourselves, finish our
talk, and then part forever."
The last expression sent a pang to the boy's heart, but he did not allow
her to see it. He followed her a short distance to one of the romantic
little lattice-work structures which Mr. Grandin had placed on his
grounds.
A few rays of silvery moonlight penetrated the leafy shelter, so the two
were not in complete darkness when they sat down on the rustic seat.
"I am ready to listen to you," said Ben in his most frigid voice, the two
being separated by a space of several feet.
"In the first place, if you thought so lightly of me, you never should
have told me different nor asked me to correspond with you."
"I do not understand you."
"How can you help understanding me?"
"Because I see no reason for your words. I thought all the world of you;
the greatest pleasure of my life was to write to you and to receive your
letters in return. All at once you stopped writing; I sent you three
letters, and you paid no attention----"
"Ben, how dare you! It was you who laughed at my letters, and took no
notice of them, except to show them to your friends and ridicule what I
put on paper."
Ben Mayberry sprang to his feet. Like a flash it came upon him that some
dreadful misunderstanding had been brought about by other parties, for
which Dolly was not to blame.
"Tell me the whole story, Dolly," he said in a kinder voice than he had
used since they met, as he resumed his seat.
"Well," said she, beginning to feel the same suspicion that thrilled her
companion, "there is a good deal to say, but I will make it short. You
know my father and Mr. Grandin are cousins, so the girls are really my
second cousins. Rutherford Richmond is the son of an old friend of
father, who lives in Boston. Father has a large insurance office, and he
agreed to take Rutherford until he learned the business, so as to take
charge of the same kind of office in Boston, which his father is going to
fix up for him. That's how it is Rutherford has been living with us for
some months.
"Well, a good while ago, I wrote you a letter, begging you to come and
visit me; father said I might do so. You didn't accept the invitation. I
wrote you again and got no answer to it; I was frightened, and thought
maybe you were ill, and wrote once more, but there was no answer to it. I
would have sent a letter to Cousin Jane to find out about you, but she
was in Europe. After a while I sent a fourth letter, very long, and full
of things which I wouldn't have anyone else know for the world. I
sent----"
"Who by?"
"Rutherford took it and several other letters, and placed them in the
mail-box at father's office, so they were sure to go. But there was no
answer to the last, and then I gave up. I felt awful bad; but I was
nearly wild when Rutherford came to me one day and said he had something
which he thought he ought to tell me. When he said it was about you, I
was dreadfully excited. He told me that he had made the acquaintance of a
young man from Damietta, who was a close friend of yours. That young
person, whose name Rutherford would not give, said that you showed all my
letters to him and several others, and made fun of them. I wouldn't have
believed it if he hadn't proved what he said?"
"How did he prove it?"
"By repeating what I had written; he gave me half of what was in that
last letter, which he said was repeated to him by the person you told. He
had them so exactly that my face burned like fire, and I was never so
angry in all my life. I knew you must have done what Rutherford said, for
how could he know what I had written you?"
"He knew it by opening your letter, reading the contents, and then
destroying it. That letter, Dolly, I never saw, nor did I see the three
which preceded it. I also sent you three letters, of which I never
heard."
Now that the way was opened, full explanations quickly followed. There
could be no earthly doubt that the last three letters sent by Ben
Mayberry to Dolly Willard had been intercepted by Rutherford Richmond,
who had not hesitated to do the same with those sent by Dolly, though
most probably he had simply destroyed the three, and read only the last.
"You risked your life to save mine and that of my mother," she said in a
tremulous voice, "and it was an awful thing for you to believe I could
ever fail to think more of you than of anyone else in the world."
"I guess I shall have to own up," laughed the happy Ben; "but we were
both placed in a false position."
"But we shall never be again----"
"Dolly, Dolly! Where are you?"
The cries came from a gay party of misses who came trooping forth to look
for the belle, whose absence so long from her friends had attracted
inquiry.
She sprang up.
"Good-by, Ben; I must go."
She caught his hand and returned the pressure, then hurried out and met
her young friends, who escorted her back to the house, while Ben quietly
departed without attracting attention.
It was past midnight, but Ben thought nothing of time. He had turned off
from the street and entered the main business avenue of Damietta.
Just as he came opposite the large jewelry establishment of Mr. Grandin
he glanced through the plate-glass window. A light was burning dimly in
the rear of the store, as was the custom with many of the merchants in
the city, but at the instant of looking Ben saw something like a shadow
flit by the light. He looked again, and was certain that another movement
had taken place, though he could not define its character.
He paused only an instant, when he walked on again; but in that instant
he became convinced that burglars were operating in the jewelry
establishment of Mr. Grandin.
He walked slowly forward, humming to himself, as was his custom, but wide
awake and alert. Fifty feet further, he detected the shadowy figure of a
man standing in one of the adjoining doorways. Ben pretended not to see
him, and continued humming gayly to himself.
Ben sauntered along in the same aimless fashion until sure he was not
watched, when he turned and made his way directly to the police office.
The chief was there and Ben quickly told him everything he knew.
"Those are the parties who arranged to rob the bank year before last,"
said the chief, "but found out they were suspected."
"They certainly managed it well this time; that is, so far, for there
hasn't a single cipher telegram passed through our office since."
"Well, we are ready to move," said the chief, as he observed that four of
his best officers were awaiting his orders.