CHAPTER XXXV.

CONCLUSION.

"I'd began to think that you'd forgotten to come," said Miss Drury, as

DeGolyer entered the room. She was sitting at her desk, and hits of

torn paper were scattered about her.

"I'm sorry that I kept you waiting so long," he replied. He did not

sit down, but stood near her.

"Oh, it hasn't been so _very_ long," she rejoined. "Why, how you have

changed since yesterday," she added, looking at him.

"For the worse?" he asked.

"For the better; you look more like the heir to a great fortune."

He smiled. "I am an heir to freedom, and that is the greatest of

fortune."

"Oh, now you are trying to mystify me again; and you said that to-day

you would make everything clear."

"And I shall. Laura"--she looked up quickly--he repeated, "this is my

last day in this office. I have sold the paper, and the new owner will

take charge to-morrow."

"I'm sorry," she said, and then added: "But on my part that is

selfishness. Of course you know what is best for yourself."

"I told you yesterday that my story would be completed to-day. It is,

and I will tell it."

The latest edition had left the press, and there was scarcely a sound

in the building. The sharp cry of the newsboy came from the street.

In telling her his story be did not begin with his early life, but

with the time when first he met young Witherspoon. It was a swift

recital; and he sought not to surprise her; he strove to tone down her

amazement.

"And to-day I took his son to him. I saw the quick transfer of a

mother's love and of a father's interest--I saw a girl half-frightened

at the thought that upon a stranger she had bestowed the intimacies of

a sister's affection. I had made so strong an effort to be honorable

with myself, at least; to persuade myself that I was fulfilling an

honest mission, but had failed, for at last I had fallen to the level

of an ordinary hypocrite; I had found myself to be a purse-proud fool.

When I went into that restaurant my sympathies were dead, and when

that man pointed at the poor menial and said that his name was Henry

DeGolyer"--

"No, no," she said, hiding her face, "your sympathies were not dead.

You--you were a hero."

"I was simply a frozen-blooded fool," he replied. "And now I must tell

you something, but I know that it will make you despise me. My father

was a beast--he broke my mother's heart. The first thing I remember,

her dead arms were about me and a chill was upon me--I knew not the

meaning of death, but I was terrorized by its cold mystery. I cried

out, but no one came, and there in the dark, with that icy problem, I

remained alone"--

"Oh, don't," she cried, and her hands seemed to flutter in her lap.

She got up, and putting her arms on the top of the desk, leaned her

head upon them.

"How could I despise you for that?" she sobbed.

"Not for that," he bitterly answered, "but for this I was taken to

the Foundlings' Home--was taken from that place to become the

disgraceful property of an Italian hag. She taught me, compelled me to

be a thief. Once she and some ruffians robbed a store and forced me to

help them. I ought to have died before that. She demanded that I

should steal something every day, and if I didn't she beat me. I got

up early one morning and robbed _her_. I took a handful of money out

of her drawer and ran away. But in the street a horror seized me, and

I threw the money in the gutter and fled from it. Don't you see that I

was born a thief? But I have striven so hard since then to be an

honorable man. But don't try not to pity, to despise me. You can't

help it. But, my God, I do love you!"

She turned toward him with a glory in her eyes, and he caught her in

his arms.

The old building was silent, and the shout of the newsboy was far

away.

"Angel of sweet mercy," he said, still holding her in his arms, "let

us leave this struggling place. I know of an old house in Virginia--it

is near the sea, and rest lies in the woods about it. Let us live

there, not to dream idly, but to work, to be a devoted man and his

happy wife. Come."

He took her hand, and they went out into the hall. The place was

deserted, the elevator was not running, and down the dark stairway he

led her--out into the light of the street.

=THE END.=

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The Colossus: A Novel · 第 35 / 35 章