A DRAMATIC INTERRUPTION.
It need not be said that Christopher Burley and myself accepted the
factor's invitation with alacrity, though, indeed, the mere sight of the
missing man's trunk promised to be but poor game. On the contrary,
should the trunk not be found, it would amount to a certainty that
Osmund Maiden had returned to claim his property, but I did not look for
this contingency, which would throw the law clerk off the trail once
more.
On the way from the office we had occasion to cross the house, and in
the lower hall we came upon Flora, attired in her outdoor costume of
furs. She looked at us with some surprise, standing so that we could not
pass her.
"I am going for a short walk, Denzil," she said, "and I hoped you would
accompany me."
"Yes, if you will wait just few moments," I replied. "We are on our way
to the room where the unclaimed trunks are stored. It is a matter of
some importance to Mr. Burley and I wish to see the end of it myself."
"Oh, has Mr. Burley's search been successful at last?" Flora exclaimed
eagerly. "He was telling me of his fresh hopes this morning, and I was
deeply interested."
"Yes, Miss Hatherton, it seems that I was on the right track," the law
clerk replied. "Osmund Maiden passed through Fort Garry nearly
twenty-eight years ago. He left a trunk here--"
"And you are going to look for it?" Flora interrupted. "How curious!
Please take me with you, Denzil, if Mr. Macdonald does not object."
"Not in the least," the factor answered gallantly. "Come with us, if you
like, but I warn you it will be a dusty undertaking."
"I am not afraid of dust or cobwebs," Flora said laughingly.
She slipped a hand under my arm, and as we followed Macdonald and Burley
upstairs I told her in a few hurried words what we had discovered.
"It is not much," she replied. "And what good can the trunk do Mr.
Burley unless he can open it?"
"I'm afraid the factor won't permit that," said I. "He could do it only
with a legal order of some sort."
By this time Macdonald had led us through two empty rooms on the upper
floor, and now he stopped at the door of a third.
"This is the place," he said fitting a key in the lock.
An instant later the door swung open, revealing darkness within, and
letting a musty, ancient odor escape. Christopher Burley stumbled over
the threshold, and the rest of us followed him.
"This is worse than the underground passage at Fort Royal," said Flora.
"The room needs airing badly. Are you going to give us any light, Mr.
Macdonald?"
"At once," the factor replied.
He groped his way into the darkness, fumbled a moment at a closed
window, and flung the shutters wide open. The cold wintry air blew in
our faces, and the rays of the sinking sun brightened every nook and
corner. It was a good-sized room, and on three sides of it--except where
a space was left for the window--trunks and boxes were neatly stacked to
the ceiling. Dust and cobwebs lent a disreputable and ruinous effect to
them.
"All unclaimed," Macdonald said significantly, "and none of recent
date."
For a moment the four of us stood in silence, as though under the
influence of a strange spell. It was indeed an impressive and a
thoughtful sight, this array of boxes and trunks, chests and cases, of
all sizes and all kinds. Could these mute witnesses only have spoken! As
we stared at them we wondered what had been the fate of their owners--of
the daring men, young and old, who had gone forth years ago into the
untrodden wilderness and never been heard of since.
"Where is his trunk?" demanded Christopher Burley, breaking the spell.
"Show it to me! I don't believe it is here!"
"We shall find it presently, I assure you," the factor answered.
With that we fell to searching, two of us at one side of the room and
two at the other. Its proper number was painted in white on each box or
trunk, but as the numbers were not in order, and some of them were
partly obscured by dust, we were not successful at once. When we came to
the stack at the end of the room, however, Flora's sharp eyes quickly
discovered what we were seeking.
"There it is!" she cried, "Number 409!"
Yes, there it was--the fateful characters staring us in the face from
the end of a small black trunk, next but one to the top of the heap, I
felt a pang of disappointment, I had half-hoped that this mysterious
Osmund Maiden had returned to claim his property, and that by an
oversight the black line had not been drawn through his name. But here
was evidence that strongly suggested his death in the wilderness.
"Get it down," Christopher Burley said hoarsely. "Let me see it!"
Macdonald assented half-reluctantly. I helped him to drag the trunk from
the one resting on top of it, and we placed it on the floor. It was a
small affair and it seemed very light. It was low and narrow,
brass-bound, and covered with decaying leather. In addition to being
locked it was wrapped about with rope.
"Nothing in it but spare clothing, I should say," remarked the factor.
"It's a common enough type and was made and sold in Quebec. I know the
brand."
"You are right, sir; the trunk did not come from England," said the law
clerk.
"But you will surely open it, so that all doubt may be set at rest."
"I shall do nothing of the sort," Macdonald answered curtly. "Your
request is impossible. I have no right to touch the trunk. How do I know
that Osmund Maiden is not alive--that he will not turn up with the
receipt some day?"
"I admit the possibility of that," said Christopher Burley. "Indeed, I
prefer to take that view of the matter myself. But consider my
perplexing situation, sir. I have reason to think that the trunk
contains papers--not only documents to prove Osmund Maiden's identity,
but a statement of what his future plans were when he left Fort Garry.
And by that means I will learn where to search for him--how to trace his
afterlife. I can't return to England until I have either proved him dead
or found him alive."
Macdonald shook his head.
"I must be true to my trust," he replied. "Only legal measures can
empower me to open this trunk, and you can take steps to that effect if
you please. You know better than I if such a remedy is within your
reach. In the eyes of the law I admit Osmund Maiden would probably be
accounted dead."
"But my dear sir, the plan you suggest would involve a journey to
England and back, not to mention the delay in the Quebec courts."
"It is the only course, Mr. Burley. And you must remember, for my side
of the case, that you have not let me into your confidence. Why are you
searching for this man?"
"I could speedily satisfy you on that point," the law clerk said
slowly; "but this is not the time to do so. I am acting for my
employers--Parchmont & Tolliver, of Lincoln's Inn, London. They are a
well-known and honorable firm of solicitors, and it is of importance to
them that Osmund Maiden should be found."
"Then find him," the factor replied. "Find him, but don't ask me to
break into this trunk."
Mr. Burley agitatedly wiped his brow.
"Sir, I beg of you to reconsider your determination," he pleaded.
"Permit me to see what is in the trunk. Open it in my presence, let me
hastily examine the contents, and then seal it up intact. It is a simple
matter for you--a most important one for me."
At first Macdonald made no reply, but he was clearly moved by the law
clerk's earnestness and importunity. He hesitated a moment, and then
said coldly:
"I will do this much for you, sir: I will take the rope from the trunk
and if it can be picked open without breaking the lock, well and good;
if not, you must be content."
"Try it, sir, at once," exclaimed Mr. Burley.
Taking a knife from his pocket, the factor knelt beside the trunk. He
began to sever, one by one, the tightly-knotted strands of rope; they
had been tied so many years that they could not be picked open. The law
clerk fairly trembled with excitement as he bent over him; Flora and I
watched the operation calmly.
Just then we heard soft footsteps, and looking up we were surprised to
see Captain Rudstone standing within a yard of us. There was a peculiar
gleam in his eyes, and a half-amused, half-mocking expression lurked on
his inscrutable features. His glance swept about the room, then settled
keenly on our little group.
"Pardon me for interrupting you, Mr. Macdonald," he said in
well-modulated tones. "I heard you were here, and as my business
happened to lie in the same direction, I took the liberty of following
you uninvited. I could not have arrived at a more opportune time. I
think that is my trunk you are trying to open. May I relieve you of the
trouble?"
"Your trunk, sir?" gasped the factor, letting the knife drop from his
fingers.
"Yes, mine. I am Osmund Maiden!"