_The Reconciliation._--_Bucholz makes an Important Revelation._--_Sommers
obtains His Liberty and leaves the Jail._
It is a truism almost as old as Time itself, that true love is never
fully known until after the lovers have once quarreled and made their
peace. The kiss of reconciliation after a temporary estrangement is
frequently more potent than the first declaration of affection.
Nor was the rule disproved in the present case, and as the two men
clasped hands upon the renewal of their seeming friendship, the
crisis of their intercourse was reached. The separation of the past
few days had shown Bucholz the necessity of a friendly voice and a
friendly hand. The guilty secret which he had been keeping so long in
his heart must find utterance--it had become heavy to bear. From this
day forth all the concealment which he had practiced upon Sommers
were to be swept away before the tide of this reconciling influence.
Hereafter they were to stand face to face, acknowledged criminals,
whose joint interest was to secure their liberty; whose only object
was to effect their escape from the meshes of the law they had
outraged, and which now seemed to envelop them so completely.
No protestations of innocence or acknowledgments of guilt were
necessary--the bedrock of an implicit and instinctive understanding
had been reached, and each looked upon the other as fellow prisoners
who were to suffer for their misdeeds, unless some potent agency
intervened for their preservation.
From the nature of their intercourse preceding this event, Sommers
did not entertain a single doubt of the guilt of William Bucholz. His
avoidance of the matter while in conversation; the confusion which
marked his demeanor as Sommers conveyed to him indirectly or
otherwise his belief that he knew more of the murder than he had as
yet admitted, and his weak denials--all went very far to confirm him
in the belief that William Bucholz, and him alone, was connected
intimately and actively with the tragedy.
At the interview which followed their reconciliation, Sommers
appeared to be very much depressed, and gave his companion to
understand that all his hopes of being admitted to bail had been
disappointed on account of the failure of his attorney--who was also
acting for Bucholz--to have the amount reduced, and of the inability
of the friends upon whom he relied to furnish the large sum required.
He also complained that the jailer had opened one of his letters and
had discovered the fact that his relations were respectable people,
who moved in good society, and who were as yet ignorant of his
perilous and degrading situation. He was fearful that they would
learn of his true condition unless he was enabled soon to effect his
release. He regretted this fact particularly, because it prevented
him from assisting his friend, who needed so much the services of
some one to act in his behalf, which service, despite the previous
doubts that had been entertained of him, he was still willing but
unable to render.
The disappointment of Bucholz was no less acute than that of his
companion. He had counted so securely upon the release of Sommers, in
order to enlist his services for his own safety, that the effect of
this unpleasant information was painful to witness.
At length, unable further to control himself, he threw his arms
around Sommers, crying out:
"Oh, I wish I could only get out one night, one single night, then I
could give you five hundred dollars, and all would be right!"
"That is easily said," replied Sommers, despondingly, "but if you did
get out, where could you get the money?"
"I am speaking the truth," said Bucholz. "If you wanted five
thousand, I could give it to you, if I was only out one night. I
could tell you a secret that would open your eyes, but as long as you
are here I can do you no good, and you cannot help me."
Sommers, who was reclining upon the bed, raised himself upon his
hand, and looking Bucholz in the face with a knowing smile, said:
"I suppose you would lift old Schulte's treasure!"
Bucholz started slightly, but he had gone too far to retreat, and he
admitted at once that if he could get out, he knew where the money of
the murdered man was hid, and that no one beside himself possessed
the knowledge.
There was an instantaneous gleam of satisfaction in the eyes of
Sommers as this information was conveyed to him, and he determined to
secure his release at all hazards. New life seemed to be infused into
him, and there was a glow of excitement in his ordinarily pallid face
that told of the agitation of his mind.
He jumped from the bed, and facing his companion, said:
"I will get out of this if it is in the power of human effort to
accomplish it. I will write to my friend at once, and no time shall
be lost in the attempt."
This change in his manner soon communicated itself to Bucholz, and in
a short time, under the influence of this new-born hope, their
conversation assumed a more cheerful strain, and bright pictures of
the future were indulged in.
Active measures were at once begun, the friends of Sommers were
written to; another interview was had with the State's attorney, and
sufficient reasons were offered for a reduction in the amount of the
bail under which he was held.
Mr. Olmstead, after listening to the statements made to him, agreed
to the reduction asked for, and in a few days the necessary forms
were gone through with. The requisite amount of money was deposited
with the Court, and everything was in readiness for the release of
Edward Sommers from his place of confinement.
The information was conveyed to Bucholz and Sommers, while they were
walking up and down the corridor during the hours in which they were
released from their cells, and the effect was observable upon the
faces of both. Bucholz, while rejoicing in the accomplishment of a
result that would prove of incalculable benefit to himself, was none
the less reluctant as the time approached, to part with the friend
who had brightened many gloomy hours, and whose intercourse had
produced such a beneficial change upon his spirits and disposition.
He seemed loth, now that they were about to be separated, to utter
the parting word, but as he thought of the advantage which this
release would be to him, he assumed a cheerful demeanor, and appeared
rejoiced at his speedy deliverance.
Their leave-taking was of the most friendly character, and after
bestowing upon Bucholz the various articles which his cell contained,
and many delicacies which had been received during his imprisonment,
Sommers prepared to leave the prison.
Clasping the hand of Bucholz, he whispered:
"Courage, William. I will see you often, and between us we will
succeed in our undertaking yet."
Saying which, and after a cordial parting salutation from the genial
and pleasant jailer, Mr. Wells, the doors of the prison were
unlocked, and Edward Sommers walked out into the bright sunshine and
inhaled the sweet fragrance of a beautiful spring morning--a free
man.