STARTLING DISCOVERIES.
Breeze stared in amazement at Wolfe’s mother, and wondered what could
possibly have affected her so greatly. Wolfe sprang to her side and
helped her into a chair; while the squire, who had caught the golden
ball as it was about to drop from his wife’s hand, now gazed at it as
intently as though it were some charm that fascinated him.
“What is it, mother?” inquired Wolfe, anxiously.
“The Tresmont coat of arms,” she answered, faintly, “and the very locket
my young lady gave to Mr. Tristram just after they were married. Oh,
tell me, sir,” she said, turning to Breeze, “how did it come into your
keeping? and what do you know of them it belonged to?”
“It has belonged to me,” answered Breeze, “since before I knew anything;
for it was clasped about my neck when I was a baby, and picked up at sea
floating in a cask.”
[Illustration: BREEZE STARED IN AMAZEMENT AT WOLFE’S MOTHER.]
“Then,” exclaimed Wolfe’s mother, standing up in her excitement, “you
must be the son of our own Mr. Tristram, and the heir to Tresmont! Don’t
you see the likeness, husband? He is the very image of Mr. Tristram.”
Yes, the squire saw it, and had noticed it the very moment he set eyes
on the young gentleman. Now it was plainer than ever to him. There were
the same blue eyes, the same closely curling yellow hair, and the same
tall straight figure. There could not be the slightest doubt of it.
Breeze was so bewildered by this wonderful turn of events, and by the
tumult of conflicting emotions aroused by what he had just heard, that
for a few moments he was speechless, and appeared like one in a dream.
Finally finding his voice, he said to the squire,
“If you knew my real father and mother, sir, won’t you please tell me
something of them?”
“Of course I will, sir; but it will make a long story to tell, even the
little I knew of them. So we’d better seat ourselves comfortable-like;
and with my wife here to help me where my memory fails, I think perhaps
I may come at the telling of it understandingly.”
Thus saying, the worthy man began, and in spite of many interruptions
from his wife and the questions asked by both Breeze and Wolfe, he
finally succeeded in relating the following tale:
"As you already know, sir, before we were married both my wife and I
lived in the family of Sir Wolfe Tresmont, of Tresmont in Lincolnshire,
England, she as lady’s-maid and I as butler. When I first took service
there Mr. Tristram was a fine young gentleman of about your own age,
although the missis, having been brought up in the family, had known him
from his boyhood.
"After I had been in the family for five years, one of which we had been
married, Mr. Tristram got through with his college, and was sent off on
his travels around the world. His mother died while he was gone, but his
father heard from him regular.
"At last there came a long letter, telling as how Mr. Tristram had got
married to an American young lady, who was the daughter of a ship
captain. She went with her father to the East Indies, and somewhere out
there Mr. Tristram met them, and engaged passage to New York on the same
ship. They fell in love with each other on the voyage, and were married
as soon as the ship reached port. Then he wrote to his father what he
had done, and asked if he might bring his wife home.
"Sir Wolfe was very angry at all this, for he had no love for the
Yankees, begging your pardon, sir, and he could not bear the thought of
his only son marrying one of them. What he wrote to Mr. Tristram I never
knew, but at any rate they did not come home for nearly two years, when
they brought their baby, which must have been you, sir, with them. Mrs.
Tristram, as we called her, was one of the sweetest young ladies as ever
I laid eyes on; but Sir Wolfe would not see her, and they stayed with
Mr. Tristram’s elder sister, who was my Lady Seabright.
"While they were there, I met the nurse one day wheeling the baby in his
little carriage, and when I stopped to look at him I took notice of this
very identical gold ball hanging around his neck. The nurse said it was
one of them puzzle-balls that Miss Merab--that was your mother, sir--had
got in the East Indies, and had had fixed up as a present for Mr.
Tristram. It was he himself fastened it to a gold chain and hung it
around the baby’s neck. I never saw the inside of it, but my wife there
did many a time, for she was stopping with my Lady Seabright, in place
of her own maid, who was sick all the time Mr. Tristram and his wife
were there.
"Finally they decided to go back to America, and as the doctor said a
long sea voyage would be the very best thing for Mrs. Tristram’s health,
they took passage on a sailing-ship, of which I mind the name well, it
being such a queer one. It was _Señora_, and from the day she left
Liverpool docks to this never a word has come from her, good or bad.
"Soon after that I left Sir Wolfe’s service, and he helped me start the
little business that I’ve followed ever since here in Queenstown, with
fairly good success, thanks to the Americans. I never saw him again; but
I heard he was never the same man after the ship his son had sailed in
was given up for lost. He died about six months ago, rest his soul, and
at that time the newspapers all over the world, but particular in
America, had advertisements in them asking for any information of Mr.
Tristram, or his wife, or their son, who would, if he was alive, be heir
to Tresmont. I saw some of the advertisements myself, and heard of
others from my American customers; but I never knew of any answer coming
to them, and I don’t suppose there ever was one.
“And now, sir, I have no doubt in the world that you are the son of Mr.
Tristram and his sweet young American wife, and the same little baby
that I saw in its carriage. If you are, you are heir to Tresmont, own
cousin to Lord Seabright, and your name is Tristram Coffin Tresmont.”
“Why,” said Breeze, “was my mother’s name Coffin?”
“Yes, Merab Coffin; and her father came from a place in America they
call Nantucket, I believe.”
Wolfe was even more excited than Breeze over the tale they had just
heard; the facts of which, if proved, would make such a difference in
the fortunes of his dorymate. The glittering prospects of the future
seemed to make but little impression upon Breeze; but they instantly
flashed across Wolfe’s mind in all their brilliancy, and he asked his
parents many questions concerning Tresmont. From them the boys learned
that it was situated in the northern part of Lincolnshire, and
overlooked the Humber with its broad fen-lands. They also learned that
much of the family property was invested in the fisheries of Grimsby,
which is the largest fishing port in the world.
“That alone would go a long way towards proving you the son of the
family, ‘Sir Breeze,’” laughed Wolfe, “for you have taken as naturally
to fishing as a dory to water. I told you that you were a prince in
disguise, and you promised to remember me when you came into your
kingdom. Now I claim the captaincy of your largest smack.”
“You shall be admiral of the whole fleet!” answered Breeze, with a
smile. “You know, old man, that no matter what might happen, I could
never forget the dorymate with whom I had drifted through the fogs of
the Newfoundland Banks. By-the-way, how did you manage to get the brig
into port after Nimbus and I left you in such a hurry?”
Wolfe told him of the cruise, of their safe arrival in Gloucester, of
the meeting between Captain McCloud and the loving wife who had never
given him up for lost, of the sadness occasioned by their boy’s absence,
and of how his adopted mother still watched for him with a firm faith
that he would yet return to her, of the salvage money received, and of
so many other things, that more than an hour was occupied in the telling
of them all.
Then Breeze had to narrate his adventures after tumbling overboard from
the brig, and tell of being picked up by the _Fish-hawk_, of the great
cuttle-fish, of finding the ambergris and losing the schooner, of
Iceland and its wonderful geysers, and, in fact, of all that had
happened to him since the dorymates had last seen each other on the deck
of the _Esmeralda_. “And to think, Wolfe,” he said, “that this meeting
is but the end of the cruise on which we started together so long ago,
against our will, in the old _Vixen!_”
“It only goes to prove,” said Wolfe, “how very much stranger truth is
than fiction. If all your adventures were written in a book, no one
would ever believe they had ever actually happened. Would they, father?”
“Well, no, my son,” replied the squire. “I can’t say that they would,
and I don’t know that anybody could be blamed for the doubting of them.
Sir Wolfe used frequent to tell of the remarkable adventures of a
gentleman of the name of Polo; but to my mind, these here of Mr.
Breeze--begging his pardon, I mean Sir Tristram--beats them away out of
sight.”
Thus talking, they all became hungry; and by the time they had finished
the nice little supper that Wolfe’s mother prepared for them, and were
ready to go to bed, it was long past midnight.
Breeze had been told one thing that evening that troubled him greatly,
and it was that, in case he had not been found, Lord Seabright, who was
now the executor of Sir Wolfe’s estate, would have inherited it. He
could not bear the thought of thus stepping in and claiming a property
that would otherwise belong to one who had shown him such great
kindness.
It was this thought that caused him to assent rather reluctantly, when,
after a late breakfast the next morning, Wolfe proposed that they should
go on board the _Saga_, and see if her owner had rejoined her. At any
rate, he said, he would like exceedingly to visit the yacht, and to
renew his acquaintance with Nimbus.
When they reached the landing-place, the shrill sound of the silver
whistle that Breeze carried soon brought a boat from the yacht to them;
and as they were rowed off Breeze was relieved to learn that Lord
Seabright had not arrived.
Wolfe was astonished, as well as delighted, with all that was shown him
on board the beautiful craft; but nothing pleased him so much as the
meeting with Nimbus, to whom he had taken a great fancy during their one
day’s acquaintance on board the _Esmeralda_.
Nimbus was just lifting down a pan of flour from a high shelf as Wolfe
appeared, unannounced, at the galley door. The black man started so
violently at the sudden sight of one whom he supposed to be on the other
side of the ocean that the pan of flour was upset, and he was instantly
covered from head to foot as with a mantle of snow. Quickly recovering
his presence of mind, the good-natured cook exclaimed,
“Golly! Misto Wolfe Brady. You scare um pore brack man so he turn white!
Where you leab um ole _Esmeral_’ an’ de cap’n?”
Amid his shouts of laughter at the negro’s comical appearance, Wolfe
helped to brush him off, and at the same time explained his own presence
on board the _Saga_.
After a lunch, which Nimbus insisted upon getting for them, the young
men returned to the city. As they were walking up the main business
street, a carriage that was driven rapidly towards them suddenly drew
up, and a cheery voice called out, “Hello, McCloud!”
It was Lord Seabright, who had just arrived, and was on his way to the
yacht. He asked Breeze if his companion were the friend whom he had
expected to meet. When Breeze answered that he was, and that his name
was Wolfe Brady, the other exclaimed, “What! not the son of the Brady
who used to be butler to Sir Wolfe Tresmont? I believe he did come to
Queenstown to open some kind of a shop.”
Breeze said that was the very person, and, moreover, that they were
stopping in front of his shop at that very moment. Upon this his
lordship said he must step in and speak to the old fellow, whom he
remembered very well.
Squire Brady was greatly flustered by the sudden appearance in his
humble establishment of this titled visitor; but, reassured by his
cordial greeting, he gathered up his wits, and saying that he had a
communication of the greatest importance to make to him, begged his
lordship to step into his private office for a moment.
Somewhat puzzled, and wondering what it could be, the young man
good-naturedly consented. After the door had been carefully closed, and
his visitor had refused an offered chair, the worthy shopkeeper and
ex-butler said, mysteriously,
“My lord, I have every reason to believe that the heir to Tresmont has
appeared.”
“Yes, so have I.”
“And that he is a young man.”
“Yes.”
“From America.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Who was picked up at sea when an infant.”
“Certainly; I know that. Anything else?”
“He is the own son of Mr. Tristram and his American wife.”
“Of course he is.”
“And he’s got evidence to prove who he is.”
“I examined his evidence in London yesterday.”
“But he was not in London.”
“I saw him there, I tell you.”
“He spent last night in my house, your lordship.”
“Who on earth are you talking about, Brady?”
“The young gentleman who came on your lordship’s yacht, and who calls
himself Breeze McCloud, but who is really your lordship’s own cousin,
Sir Tristram Coffin Tresmont.”
“Come, come, Brady! you don’t know what you are talking about,” said
Lord Seabright, impatiently. “I left Sir Tristram Coffin Tresmont in
London yesterday, and he is no more Breeze McCloud than I am. Whatever
have you got into your head?”
“But, your lordship,” persisted the shopkeeper, now considerably
excited, “this young gentleman wears the golden puzzle-ball fast to a
chain around his neck that was give to Mr. Tristram by his wife, which I
saw it with my own eyes on him when he was a blessed infant in his
carriage.”
“So does the Sir Tristram Coffin Tresmont now in London wear a golden
chain from which hangs a golden puzzle-ball, as you call it, that was
fastened around his baby neck by his father, to whom it was presented by
his wife. Is there anything more?”
“Well, I am beat!” gasped the astonished shopkeeper, wiping the
perspiration from his forehead.
“So am I,” said Lord Seabright. “It’s bad enough to have to give up a
fine property that I have for some time considered my own; but to have
two claimants to it appear at once, and each of them producing the same
proof of his identity, is a little too much. Have you any other reason
for thinking this young friend of yours is what he claims to be?”
For answer the shopkeeper opened the door, and calling Breeze into the
office, asked him to show his lordship the locket he wore about his
neck.
Breeze produced the ball, opened it, and offered it for Lord Seabright’s
inspection.
“Exactly the same,” said he, looking at it carefully.
Then Breeze touched the inside spring, and displayed the three tiny
locks of hair, and the inscription on the under side of the plate.
“Hello! This is something new,” exclaimed Lord Seabright. “This proof
goes away ahead of the other chap’s. We must look into this matter more
closely.”