Kitobni o'qish: «A Boy's Fortune», sahifa 12

CHAPTER XXXVI.
Rose Comes Into a Fortune

Ben and his friend had a fair passage from Liverpool, and were equally pleased to set foot on American soil. By this time they had become excellent friends. The Cuban, having no near relatives, was surprised to find how much interest he felt in his young ward.

"Well, Ben," he said, "shall we first attend to your business, or that of the young ladies whom your late employer has cheated out of their rightful inheritance?"

"My business can wait, Mr. Novarro. Let us attend to the last."

"Do you remember the office of Mr. Codicil – that was the name of the trustee, was it not?"

"Yes, sir. I can guide you there without delay."

"Then, after we are fairly established in our hotel, we will go to see him."

Meanwhile there was great despondency in the modest home of the Beauforts. To be deprived of her pupils without just cause was indeed a grievous misfortune, and, gentle as she was, Rose could not think of it without exasperation. Though she could not at first understand from whom the blow came, reflection satisfied her that Miss Arethusa Jayne was her enemy and had wrought this mischief. Her motive Rose could not penetrate, not being in the secret of Miss Jayne's admiration for Mr. Randall. To make matters worse, her constant friend, Miss Wilmot, was absent from the city, at some springs in Virginia, and was not expected home for some weeks to come. She applied for a position in answer to an advertisement, but when called upon for references her heart sank within her, as she reflected that the ladies who had recently employed her would hardly speak in her favor.

"What shall we do, Addie?" she asked, despondently. "I can't get new pupils, and I must do something. I don't like to go back to the old business of making vests."

"Don't do that, at any rate, Rose; I am sure you can do better than that."

"I wish I knew what."

"Suppose you go and see Mr. Codicil."

"He might think I wished him to give me money."

"No; ask him to use his influence to obtain you music-pupils."

Rose brightened at the suggestion.

"I believe I will follow your advice, Addie. It seems to me good."

"And if that doesn't do any good, write to Miss Wilmot, and ask her advice. You can always refer to her."

"Why, Addie, I never gave you credit for such wise counsel. Your words have inspired me with new cheerfulness. I will go to Mr. Codicil to-morrow morning."

Half an hour before the arrival of Rose Beaufort at the lawyer's office, Ben and Mr. Novarro entered.

"Can I see Mr. Codicil?" asked Ben.

The clerk said, doubtfully, noting Ben's youthful appearance, and judging that his business could not be of great importance:

"I will see. What name shall I mention?"

"You may say that I come from Major Grafton."

This message brought an immediate invitation to enter the lawyer's sanctum.

The old man regarded him with considerable surprise as he entered.

"I thought you were in Europe, Philip," he said. "Is your guardian with you?"

"I have just come from Europe, Mr. Codicil," answered Ben. "Major Grafton is not with me."

"How does it happen that you have left him? You have not run away, have you?"

"Yes, sir; I felt obliged to run away."

"May I ask why?" demanded the lawyer, searchingly.

"Because I was not willing to aid Major Grafton in a scheme of fraud."

Mr. Codicil pricked up his ears.

"Proceed, young man," he said. "This is becoming interesting."

"You called me Philip Grafton, and this is the name Major Grafton wished me to assume, but it is not my real name."

"Go on, go on!"

"My real name is Ben Baker. Major Grafton met me in this city, and engaged me to travel with him as his private secretary. He gave me the name of Philip Grafton, because, he said, I looked like his only son, bearing that name, who died abroad."

"The old rascal!"

"I supposed this was true, and saw no objection to the plan."

"Can you tell me what became of the boy whose name you assumed?" asked Mr. Codicil, eagerly.

"Yes, sir; he is dead."

"Poor fellow! Where did he die?"

"In Italy, last year."

"And his rascally guardian, concealing this from me, has drawn the income of his property regularly for his own use. Now tell me how you came to learn all this."

Ben gave the explanation clearly, and recited the steps taken by Major Grafton to keep him from divulging the secret.

"It was a bold game," said the lawyer; "but, thanks to your information, it has failed. I shall at once telegraph to Major Grafton that his guardianship has ceased, and I will send over an agent to obtain the necessary proof of the boy's death."

At this moment a clerk entered.

"There is a young lady who desires to see you, Mr. Codicil."

"Did she give her name?"

"Miss Beaufort."

"Send her in at once. She could not have come at a more fitting time. My young friend, go into the little room adjoining, and wait till I summon you."

Rose Beaufort entered the lawyer's presence with a grave expression on her face.

"I hope, Mr. Codicil, you will excuse my troubling you with a visit."

"So far from troubling me, I am very glad to see you. What can I do for you?"

"I am in trouble, and wish your advice."

"Proceed."

Rose unfolded her story, and concluded by asking Mr. Codicil if he would exert his influence toward obtaining her some pupils in music.

The lawyer's eyes twinkled behind his spectacles.

"I hardly know what to say to that request," he answered.

"I did not suppose you would be prejudiced against me by Mrs. Tilton's false and groundless accusations," said Rose, with a troubled air.

"I am not. That is not the point. I am only questioning the expediency of your teaching at all."

"But I know of no better way of earning a livelihood."

"Still, it is not customary for wealthy young ladies to take pupils."

"I don't understand you, Mr. Codicil," said Rose, bewildered.

"Then I will no longer keep you in suspense. Your poor cousin, Philip, is dead, and you inherit your grandfather's fortune – that is, you, your sister, and brother."

"When did poor Philip die?" asked Rose, unaffectedly shocked. "It must have been very sudden."

"On the contrary, he died last year."

"Last year! How happens it, then, that we did not know of it before?"

"Because there has been a wicked scheme to defraud you of the inheritance. Ben, come here."

Ben entered, and the story was soon told. Of course it need not be repeated.

"Now, Miss Beaufort, if you insist on taking pupils, I will do what I can to procure you some," said the lawyer.

"If I take them it will be without compensation," answered Rose, smiling. "Can you tell me how soon we may expect to come into our property? I ask, because we are near the end of our money."

"It will take perhaps two months to obtain legal proof of Philip's death, but that will not inconvenience you. I will advance you whatever money you require in the meantime."

"You are very kind. If you could let me have twenty dollars – "

"You are very modest," said the lawyer, smiling. "Suppose we say two hundred?"

"Two hundred!" ejaculated Rose.

"I think you will be able to find a use for it," said the lawyer. "Remember, though I don't want to encourage you in extravagance, that is less than two weeks' income."

There was great joy in the Beaufort household when Rose carried home the great news, though it was mingled with sorrow for the untimely fate of poor Philip.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
Ben Meets His Cousin

Ben supposed that his new guardian would be in favor of making an immediate call upon his uncle, but the Cuban counselled delay.

"First," he said, "I wish to find, if I can, the broker through whom your uncle sold the securities of which he robbed your father. We can make out a case without it, but with this our case will be complete."

"Won't it be difficult to find out, Mr. Novarro?" asked Ben.

"Difficult, but not impossible. To begin with, I know the date of probable transfer. Next, I know the securities. By visiting the offices of different brokers I may obtain some information. At any rate, I have mapped out my plan of procedure, and hope within a week to obtain a clew."

Ben asked no questions, feeling that he could safely leave the whole matter in the hands of so experienced a business man as his new guardian.

They did not go to a hotel, but to a boarding-house kept by a Cuban lady, a friend of his guardian, which they found quite as comfortable and more homelike than the Metropolitan or the Windsor.

Meanwhile Ben thought it best not to make a call at the office of his uncle. Indeed, remembering the cruel way in which he had wronged his mother, he would have found it disagreeable to meet him.

But one day, on Broadway, he met his cousin, Clarence Plantagenet. He would have avoided the encounter, but it was too late, for Clarence had seen him.

"What! Ben!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea you were back in New York. When did you arrive?"

"Three days since," answered Ben.

"Where are you staying?"

"At a boarding-house in Forty-second street."

"How is Major Grafton?"

"I don't know; I am no longer with him."

"What!" exclaimed Clarence, pricking up his ears. "You are no longer in his employ?"

"No."

"Where is he?"

"I left him in Europe."

"What did he discharge you for?" asked Clarence, cheerfully.

"He didn't discharge me. He was opposed to my leaving him, but we couldn't agree."

"I think you are a fool!" said Clarence, bluntly. "With him you could live like a gentleman. You haven't got another place, have you?"

"No."

"And you won't get one very soon, I can tell you that, except as a boy at three or four dollars a week."

Ben smiled.

"I can look round, at any rate," he answered.

"That's all the good it'll do. You mustn't expect my father to help you."

"I don't. If I had, I should have called before this."

"After throwing up a good place, if you were not discharged, you don't deserve help."

"I am not sure that I shall look for another place," said Ben.

"You are not?" asked Clarence, mystified.

"No; I may go to school a little longer. I haven't as good an education as I should like."

"But how are you going to live while you are doing all this?"

"Don't you think your father would give me a home in his family and let me attend school in the city?"

"Well, Ben Baker, you have got cheek, I declare! If that is what you are counting on, you may as well give it up."

"It's as well to know the worst," said Ben, tranquilly.

"I shall have to be going along," said Clarence, coldly.

He told his father at dinner about his meeting with Ben.

"I'll tell you what, father," he said. "I couldn't account at first for Ben's seeming so cool and independent. I think I understand it now."

"Well, suppose you explain, then."

"I think he's robbed Major Grafton of a sum of money and taken French leave. He said he was not 'bounced' and that the major did not want him to leave."

"I hope you are wrong, my son. I haven't the highest opinion of your cousin, but I earnestly hope he is honest. To have him guilty of such a crime would be a disgrace to our family. Always be honest, Clarence! Depend upon it, honesty is the best policy, and a boy or man makes a great mistake who appropriates what is not his own."

"Of course, pa, I know all that. Do you think I would steal? As to Ben Baker, that's a different matter. He's always been poor, and I suppose the temptation was too strong for him."

"Let us hope not. Dishonesty I could not overlook, even in a relation."

Who would imagine that this man, so strict in his ideas of honesty, had deliberately stolen a hundred thousand dollars from his widowed sister and her son!

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
M. Bourdon Has a Bad Quarter of an Hour

Major Grafton was quite easy in mind after consigning Ben to the safe custody of an insane asylum.

"Serves the boy right!" he said. "What business had he to interfere with my plans? M. Bourdon will see that he does not annoy me any further."

His confidence in the wisdom of his plan was maintained by the frequent letters he received from the director of the asylum, in all of which he spoke encouragingly of the effect of discipline upon Ben. Major Grafton regularly transmitted the compensation agreed on between them.

This continued until one day Major Grafton, who had now returned to Geneva, was dumbfounded by receiving the following telegram from Mr. Codicil:

"Your scheme is revealed, and your guardianship at an end. No further drafts of yours will be honored.

"N. Codicil."

"Confusion! What does this mean?" ejaculated Major Grafton. "That wretched boy must have found means of writing to America. If this is so, I will haul M. Bourdon over the coals. It must have been through his criminal negligence."

He lost no time in setting out for the asylum, which he reached in due season.

"I wish to see M. Bourdon," he said, sternly, to the attendant who had admitted him.

The doctor, who would rather have seen any one else, could hardly conceal his dismay when he set eyes on the major.

"Can he have found out?" he asked.

"Dr. Bourdon, how is my ward?" he demanded.

"Tranquil and contented," answered the doctor, smoothly.

"I have reason to think you have been negligent, and allowed him to write letters to America."

"Impossible, my dear sir – quite impossible, I assure you."

"I believe there is some trickery here," said the major, sternly. "I wish to see the boy."

Perspiration gathered on the brow of M. Bourdon, though it was a cool day. How could he stave off this visit? His wits came to the rescue.

"I greatly regret to tell you," he said, "that your ward is sick of a contagious disease. To see him would imperil your life."

Major Grafton was not a nervous man, and he was too much in earnest to be turned from his design.

"I am not afraid," he said; "I will see him."

"I will go and prepare him for your visit," said the doctor, sorely perplexed.

Five minutes had not elapsed when he returned in apparent consternation.

"My good sir," he said, "I have serious news. Your ward is not in his room. He must have escaped in the night."

"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the major, livid with passion. "Just now you told me he was sick with a dangerous malady; now you say he has escaped. I have a great mind to strangle you!" and he clutched the doctor by the collar.

"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked the doctor, terribly alarmed. "Are you mad?"

"When did the boy escape? Tell me instantly, if you value your life."

"Over a month since. I didn't wish to alarm you, and so concealed the intelligence."

"While you continued to draw for his board, you thief!"

"I – I am prepared to refund the money, monsieur. I only drew because it was necessary to keep up the deception."

M. Bourdon refunded five weeks' board, told the story of Ben's escape, and Major Grafton was compelled to be content with this.

"I am afraid the game is up!" he muttered, as he rode rapidly away. "That cursed boy has spoiled all. I wish I had him in my clutches!"

It was well for Ben that he was not within reach of the irate major.

CHAPTER XXXIX.
Ben and His Uncle

"Ben," said the Cuban, a few days later, "I have excellent news."

"What is it, sir?"

"I have found the broker who sold the stolen securities for your uncle."

"Is it possible, sir?" said Ben in excitement.

"Yes; it is a piece of great good luck. And now I think we are ready to call upon your uncle. First, however, I have a little scheme in which I shall require your co-operation."

"Very well, sir."

"I wish to test your uncle's disposition toward you. We are in a position to dictate terms to him. If he shows proper feeling toward his nephew we shall feel disposed to be considerate toward him."

"What do you wish me to do?" asked Ben.

"Call on your uncle and ask him if he can give you a place in his store, or help you to one outside. Of course you wouldn't accept one, but we shall see what reception he gives you."

Into this scheme Ben readily entered. He was no longer a friendless and penniless boy, dependent upon his uncle for the means of living, but rich and his own master.

Nicholas Walton was sitting in his counting-room when Ben entered. It so happened that Clarence Plantagenet was just leaving the store as Ben entered.

"What do you want?" he asked, coldly.

"I should like to see your father."

"I don't think he will see you. He is busy."

"I am quite anxious to see him," persisted Ben.

"Are you going to ask him to help you?" said his cousin.

"Yes; to help me to a place."

"I am sure he won't do it."

"I would rather take the refusal from his lips," said Ben.

"Oh, well, I suppose you can go and see him if you want to, but you will find that I am right."

"I think I will see him, then."

Clarence had been intending to go out at once, but it struck him that he would enjoy seeing his poor cousin rebuffed, and he accompanied Ben to the back of the store.

"Father," he said, as he entered the office, followed by Ben, "here is Ben Baker, who wants to see you. I told him it would be of no use to ask you for help, but he doesn't believe me."

Mr. Walton frowned ominously.

"Well, boy," he said, frigidly, "so you have lost your place with Major Grafton?"

"Yes, sir."

"I am convinced that it was on account of misconduct on your part."

"Is it quite right to condemn me before you have heard anything of the circumstances attending my leaving him?" said Ben, mildly.

"Oh, I dare say you have some plausible story," sneered Mr. Walton; "but it won't produce any effect on me."

"Still, sir, I will venture to say that I did not leave him on account of any misconduct on my own part."

"Perhaps it was on account of misconduct on his part," said Mr. Walton, with a scornful laugh.

"Yes, sir, it was."

"Really, this is very amusing. Now let me know what you want of me."

"Can you give me a place in your store, sir?"

"No, I can't, or rather I will not," answered his uncle, curtly.

"Will you use your influence to obtain me a position elsewhere?"

"No, I won't, and I consider you very impudent to prefer the request."

"You seem to forget, sir, that I am your nephew."

"I chose to forget it, considering the disreputable manner in which you have behaved."

"Then, you won't do anything for me, sir?"

"No, decidedly no!"

"I told you so," said Clarence, triumphantly. "You may as well go to selling papers."

"He can do better than that," said a strange voice. "He can live on the interest of his money."

Clarence and his father started in surprise, as the speaker, Filippo Novarro, entered the office. The merchant, recognizing him, turned pale.

CHAPTER XL.
Conclusion

"I see you know me, Mr. Walton," said the Cuban, quietly. "I have a few words to say to you. Do you wish your son to listen?"

"Clarence, you may leave the office," said the merchant, in a husky voice.

Clarence, whose curiosity was aroused, was very unwilling to go.

"Sha'n't Ben go, too?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I beg pardon, but I wish him to remain," said the Cuban. "He is deeply concerned in what I have to say."

Clarence was still more curious. He left the office, but he lingered within ear-shot.

"Mr. Walton," said Novarro, "I am a man of few words, and will come to the point. As the guardian of this boy, and the friend of his father's friend, I have come to demand from you the fortune of which you deprived him."

"I don't know what you are talking about," said the merchant, trying to speak firmly.

"I beg your pardon, but you do. I call for the money you obtained for the securities which you took from the dead body of Dr. Baker, who died in your house of heart disease – a sum which you appropriated to your own use, leaving your sister and your sister's son poor and dependent."

"You must be crazy, sir. Where is the proof of your strange and unfounded charge?"

"I can produce the broker who sold these securities for you in the year 18 – ."

"It is easy to say this. May I know the name of this broker?" asked the merchant, making a feeble attempt to deny the charge.

"His name is John Goldsmith, and his office is No. – Wall street," answered Novarro, promptly.

Nicholas Walton leaned back in his chair and seemed ready to faint, but uttered no word.

"Well, sir, your answer?"

"Can't we – compromise – this – thing?" asked Walton, feebly.

"No, sir; we will promise not to expose you, but it will be only upon condition that you pay principal and interest. The only favor we will extend is, that we will not demand compound interest."

"But it will ruin me! I cannot take so large a sum from my business."

"That I can understand. On behalf of my young ward and his mother, I will agree to accept half cash, and half in notes maturing at different dates, secured by your stock in trade. Do you consent, or shall we bring suit?"

"Can't you throw off the interest? That boy and his mother will be amply provided for by the principal."

"If you had received your nephew differently when he applied for help just now, we might have consented. Now it is out of the question."

Nicholas Walton was forced to make an unconditional surrender, and the terms were agreed to upon the spot.

"Ben," said Mr. Novarro, as they left the office, "I congratulate you. You are now rich."

"Thanks to you kind management, Mr. Novarro."

It is said that listeners never hear any good of themselves. Clarence was in a terrible panic when he heard the conference between his father and the Cuban. That his despised cousin Ben should become suddenly rich was a bitter pill to swallow. He sneaked out of the store, perturbed in mind.

"Now, Ben, I suppose you will want to carry the news to your mother," said the Cuban.

"That is what I was about to ask, Mr. Novarro."

"We will take the next train for Sunderland, preparing your mother by a telegram."

I do not propose to describe Ben's happy meeting with his mother. Mrs. Baker was grieved to hear of her brother's treachery, but it was a relief to her to think that he had nothing to do with her husband's death. As we know, he was directly responsible for it, but the knowledge of this was confined to his own breast. Even the Cuban never suspected what had brought on the attack that terminated the poor doctor's life.

"Now, Ben, what career do you select?" asked his guardian.

Ben took a week to consider. He then decided not to go into business, but to obtain a liberal education, and study law. He and his mother removed to Cambridge, where he completed his preparatory studies, and entered Harvard College. He is now a young lawyer, and has commenced the practice of his profession under flattering auspices.

Clarence Plantagenet, on the other hand, is a young man about town, and his father cannot induce him to enter upon any business. He has professed his willingness to become a broker, if his father will purchase him a seat at the Stock Board, but Mr. Walton wisely thinks it will be cheaper to give him a liberal income than give him the chance of squandering a fortune in stocks.

We must not forget the Beauforts. They removed to a fashionable locality, and purchasing a house, furnished it with elegance and taste. It is surprising how many people found them out in their days of prosperity who had ignored them before. Even Mrs. Tilton essayed to apologize for her outrageous treatment, and tried to ingratiate herself with Rose, but the latter treated her with such distant civility that she gave up the attempt. In less than a year Rose Beaufort became Mrs. Clinton Randall, and her star rose still higher.

There is one person who never will forgive her for her good fortune, and that is Miss Arethusa Jayne, who had strongly hoped to secure the hand of Clinton Randall for herself. No one would have been more amazed than Randall himself, for he was happily unconscious of Miss Jayne's admiration for him.

Ben has not forgotten his early friends. Hugh Manton, the reporter, by his help has secured an interest in a flourishing daily paper in an inland city, and is earning a liberal income.

Major Grafton is earning a precarious living at European spas and gambling resorts, and is beginning to show the marks of age. Filippo Novarro has established himself as a permanent resident of the United States, and spends much of his time with Ben and his mother.

And now, with all our characters satisfactorily disposed of, the good rewarded, and the bad punished, we bid the reader farewell and ring down the curtain.