OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA
 
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 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM A. HAMMOXD 
 
 OLUTAS," 
 
 NEW YORK 
 D. APPLETON AXD COitPAXT 
 
 urn
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1887, 
 BT D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 
 
 All right* reserved.
 
 OX THE STTSQTTEHAKNA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 this is death!" 
 
 There were two persons in the room, a woman and a 
 man. The woman stood by the side of a bed ; the man lay 
 upon it. She was apparently about twenty-five years of 
 age ; he looked as though he might be forty-five. Though 
 evidently weary, both in mind and in body, she exhibited 
 no signs of feeble physical or mental health ; on the con- 
 trary, she was tall and robust, and though her cheeks were 
 pale, and her movements somewhat languid, it was easy to 
 see that these were temporary conditions, that would dis- 
 appear as soon as she could get out to inhale the fresh air 
 of the mountains that rose, like black walls, almost within 
 a stone's throw of the house. 
 
 The expression on her face was not only one of fatigue, 
 but it was one of poignant sorrow ; and well it might be, 
 for the man that lay on what was evidently his death-bed 
 was her father ; her friend and companion of many years, 
 the only being in all the world that she loved, and almost 
 the only one that she knew. 
 
 It was easy to see that he was ill unto death. His pale, 
 haggard, and emaciated face, his sunken eyes, his pinched 
 nose, his half-open lips, through which the breath came 
 quickly and irregularly, his thin hands, which he moved 
 nervously and aimlessly over the bedclothes, picking with 
 
 2034562
 
 4 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 them here and there at imaginary threads, all went to show 
 that his vital powers were flagging, and that unless some 
 extraordinary turn took place his stay on earth would be of 
 short duration. 
 
 The four words he had spoken were uttered in so low a 
 tone that no one not very close to him, or not on the watch 
 for the slightest sound he might make, would have heard 
 them. But she had had her perceptive faculties on the 
 stretch almost continuously for many days and nights ; the 
 more she became exhausted, so far as bodily strength or the 
 power of thought was concerned, the sharper her senses 
 seemed to get, until now the slightest murmur that escaped 
 his lips, the least shade of a change in his expression, struck 
 her with tenfold the natural force. She heard the words 
 that he had breathed rather than spoken. Had the end 
 then come at last ? She clasped her hands together and 
 gazed into his face with a look of anxious, inquiring agony. 
 Doubtless it was near, but it had not yet come. She was be- 
 coming experienced in the knowledge of the signs of death. 
 It was only one of those sudden paroxysms of faintness to 
 which he was liable, though certainly the most severe one 
 that she had yet observed. How many such steps toward 
 the grave would he take ere he reached his destination ? 
 She asked herself this question, and then, without trying to 
 answer it, seeing that the collapse was passing off, and that 
 there was no immediate danger, she gave a sigh of relief, 
 and turned away to busy herself with the preparation of 
 a draught that his sudden exclamation had interrupted. 
 Then, having completed her work, she again approached 
 the bed, taking with her the goblet containing the potion 
 she had mixed. 
 
 His eyes were closed, he was breathing more quietly, 
 and his fingers had ceased to clutch automatically at the 
 silken quilt that covered him. She laid one hand on his 
 head, and with the other held the glass toward him.
 
 OX THE STSQUEHAXXA. 5 
 
 " Father ! " she said, " take this. The doctor was very 
 strict about your not missing a dose." 
 
 Her words roused the sick man from the state of dreamy 
 abstraction into which he had fallen, for he turned his head 
 and looked at her inquiringly, as though he was not quite 
 certain in regard to her identity, and was striving so to col- 
 lect his thoughts as to bring her once again into his memory. 
 But his troubled expression was only momentary, for his 
 face soon lighted up, and a smile of recognition passed oyer 
 his countenance. 
 
 "Will you take it now, father ?" 
 
 " Yes, give it to me ; but what is the use ? Its effects 
 last only for a few minutes, and then all the old feelings 
 return." 
 
 She did not answer, but, putting one hand under his 
 head, raised it from the pillow, while with the other she 
 held the glass to his lips. 
 
 He drained it to the last drop, and then motioning to 
 her to sit by the side of the bed, he lay for a little while 
 without speaking. 
 
 But a more decided change was gradually taking place 
 in his appearance. His eyes became brighter, the deep lines 
 in his face disappeared, and a faint flush was visible on his 
 cheeks. Suddenly and with apparent ease, he raised him- 
 self in the bed till he sat bolt upright, supported only by 
 the pillows that his daughter placed behind him. 
 
 '' Xow," he said, in a voice that could have been heard 
 throughout the large apartment, " I am good for another 
 hour. It's a powerful medicine, my dear, but I shall soon 
 be beyond its aid, perhaps, by the time the next dose is due. 
 I think I had better tell you all I have to say, for it may be 
 the last chance I shall get." 
 
 "O father, keep your strength for more important 
 things ! Don't worry about me." 
 
 " There is nothing more important to me than your wel-
 
 6 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 fare. You have had a hard life, an isolated life, all through 
 your love for me. In a little while you will be free. When 
 I think of all the care I have given you, I should not be 
 surprised to see you dance around the room with joy at the 
 thought that the old man that has been such a burden to 
 you all these years was at last about to go the way of all 
 flesh." He smiled feebly as he spoke, and she, knowing 
 that he did not mean what he said, made no other answer 
 than to take his wasted hand in hers and raise it to her lips. 
 
 "I felt it just now," he continued. "It was not a 
 pang, and the words that escaped me were expressive of 
 my surprise at the pleasantness of the sensation. It was 
 so different from what I had expected. A soft undulation, 
 as it were, passed through my brain and seemed to waft me 
 to the edge of a high precipice, down which I began to fall, 
 though so very slowly that I thought I should never reach 
 the bottom. Then it appeared to me that you stretched 
 out your hands and caught me as I was gradually falling, 
 but not till I had obtained a glimpse of the glorious pros- 
 pect below. I was very near to death then. A little less 
 strength in the heart, and all would have been over in this 
 world. But if what I saw was the valley of the shadow of 
 death, I am not afraid of it." 
 
 " It was the crisis of your disease. You are stronger 
 than you have been for several days past." 
 
 " Yes, I am stronger. I called Dr. Arndell back this 
 morning and I made him tell me how long he thought I 
 should live, and he gave me forty-eight hours. I have 
 forty-five left." 
 
 " He does not know. He told me he had strong hopes 
 that you would get better." 
 
 " Ah, yes, he told you that because you are a woman, 
 and he did not wish to take away all hope from you ; but 
 now, my dear Alana, we must look the matter in the face. 
 If I did not know that I am about to die, I would never tell
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 7 
 
 you one word of what I feel it to be my duty to tell you. 
 But I know that you would be sure to hear it some day, 
 and Terr soon, too, from other lips than mine, and then 
 you would be grieved a thousand times more than when 
 you learn it from me." 
 
 "Xo, keep your strength. I do not want to hear it. 
 What matters it how it comes to me ? The doctor said that 
 you were not to be excited." She knelt down by the side 
 of the bed as she spoke, while sob after sob broke her utter- 
 ance. 
 
 " My poor Alana ! " he said, tenderly, laying his hand 
 on her head and stroking her hair. "I believe you lore 
 me with all your heart, and that you would rather have me 
 with you, sick and burdensome as I am, querulous and self- 
 ish as are most old men even when they are well, than to 
 be the sole disposer of all my wealth." 
 
 " Oh, you know I would ; and as to this knowledge that 
 roust come to me, what matters it how I hear it 1" 
 
 " It matters a great deal, my dear, both to you and to 
 me. There is much in the telling of a story, and while I 
 shall not try to shield myself, there are circumstances that* 
 painful as the duty will be. had far better be told you now 
 than to hare them reach yon from unsympathizing and 
 malicious persons." 
 
 " Is what you hare to tell me about my mother ? " 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "your mother, whom you hare 
 not seen since you were a babe, of whom you hare no recol- 
 lection, and of whom, till now, I hare never spoken to you, 
 avoiding as best I could all the questions and surmises that 
 your heart prompted." 
 
 "She is not dead?" 
 
 X >. she is not dead. Would you like to see her? 
 Stop !" he continued, seeing from her face that she was 
 about to say " yes " " stop till I tell you enough about her 
 to enable you to answer intelligently. Yes, I will leave the
 
 8 ON THE SDSQUEHANNA. 
 
 matter to you. If, after what I am going to say, you can 
 tell me that you wish to see her, she shall come at once, and 
 if possible ere it is too late for me to repair any wrong I 
 may have done her." 
 
 What could her father mean ? Alana felt her heart 
 sink within her as she heard words that seemed to imply 
 disgrace or wrong of some kind. To her, her father had 
 always been good and kind, but she was aware of the fact 
 that he was not generally liked by those with whom he was 
 thrown, and she had once been present when a man, who 
 had come from Philadelphia to see him on business, ac- 
 cused him of cruelty and even of falsehood. To be sure, 
 he had resented the insults by striking the man and putting 
 him out of the house, but during the scuffle the intruder 
 had shouted out something about "the mother of that 
 young lady there," that, although not entirely under- 
 stood, was enough to reveal to her the fact that there was 
 a mystery of some kind or other of which her mother was 
 the subject. That it was a sorrowful one she felt very sure. 
 The silence that had been observed all through her life in 
 regard to her mother, the avoidance of everything on her 
 father's part that could possibly have any reference to her, 
 and the fact that her acquaintances seemed to take it for 
 granted that her mother was dead, when she had reason for 
 believing that she was still alive, all went to convince her 
 that there was something wrong. But her love for her 
 father and her faith in his honor were so exalted as to pre- 
 vent the idea that he had been guilty of evil-doing. Never- 
 theless she was fully aware of the fact that there were cir- 
 cumstances that he did not wish to discuss, and of which 
 he desired her to remain in ignorance. 
 
 Often she had called to mind that many years previ- 
 ously, when she was quite a child, she had once asked her 
 father where her mother was, and that he had answered 
 that she was dead.
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAyXA. 9 
 
 " Dead, and in heaven ? n she had inquired. 
 
 "She is dead to you and dead to me. Xerer ask me 
 about her again." 
 
 At that time, this answer had in a measure satisfied her, 
 for she thought that her father's shortness of speech had 
 proceeded from the sorrowful recollections that were evoked 
 by reference to his wife ; but as she grew older, the pecul- 
 iarity of the reply became more apparent to her. " Dead to 
 her and dead to him." That could only mean one thing. 
 It meant that though the woman, her mother, might be 
 and probably was alive, she was to all intents and purposes 
 dead so far as they two were concerned, and that, there- 
 fore, there was no likelihood that this essentially dead wom- 
 an would ever come into the current of their lives. 
 
 Then she had over and over again, as she grew into 
 womanhood, asked herself questions in regard to this 
 mother who was to be regarded as dead, that she answered 
 in a hundred different ways as often as they arose in her 
 mind. She was afraid to go to her father and beg him to 
 tell her who her mother was, and why she was to be re- 
 garded as dead, for the knowledge that had come with 
 mature years told her that there must be something in that 
 mother's life that it would be better her daughter should 
 not know. So she had kept silent, though, nevertheless, 
 wondering what could be the mystery surrounding the 
 woman who had brought her into the world. 
 
 But now the words that her father had spoken seemed 
 to her to imply that whatever disgrace or wrong there was 
 rested on him, and not on her mother. She was unpre- 
 pared for this, and the shock was therefore correspondingly 
 great. Her mother was not dead ; the mystery was to be 
 unfolded, and then she was to say whether or not the woman 
 who for nearly twenty-five years had been separated from 
 her child and its father should be allowed once more to 
 come into their presence.
 
 10 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 It did not take long for all this to pass through her 
 mind, and her answer was ready before her father could 
 begin what he had to say. 
 
 " Yes ! " she exclaimed, " I wish to see her. Whoever 
 she is, whatever she may be, I wish to see her. She is my 
 mother that is enough." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right. At any rate, you are filial, but 
 I warn you that you are acting ignorantly. Take a little 
 more time for reflection, and hear first a story that may 
 cause you to change your mind." 
 
 " Nothing can make me change it. If my mother lives, 
 though it be in a prison, or a poor-house, or on the streets, 
 if she is the most wretched or the most wicked woman on 
 the face of the earth, I want to see her, if only once to call 
 her mother ! " 
 
 She had risen to her feet, her hands were clasped to- 
 gether, tears were streaming from her eyes, but her look 
 was resolute, almost defiant. 
 
 " You shall have your own way, for I feel that you are 
 right ; but oh, my dear child, my poor Alana, how grievous 
 is the wrong I have done you, and what a terrible blow is 
 about to fall on your head ! " 
 
 "I shall forgive the wrong. The blow I can endure." 
 
 " Yes, you are charitable, and you are strong. You 
 know how to pardon and how to suffer. God help you ! for 
 there will be ample occasion for all your kindness and all 
 your strength. Sit there and write the telegram to your 
 mother that I am going to dictate." 
 
 She placed herself at a little desk that stood at the 
 other side of the bed, near one of the windows, that opened 
 on an extensive lawn. Beyond, were several large and 
 ugly buildings, with tall chimneys, pouring forth smoke 
 and flame ; and still farther on, the wall of mountains rising 
 dark and gloomy high into the air, and casting their shad- 
 ows even to where she sat
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXNA. H 
 
 She looked out of the window for a moment, thinking 
 of what her father had said. The solemnity of his words 
 awed her, and she felt sure that there would be many 
 painful circumstances attendant on the act she had ex- 
 pressed herself as so anxious to perform. Should she do 
 it ? It was still within her power to decline. Yes, she 
 would see her, she must see her ; and perhaps, if there had 
 been wrongs on either side, they could be righted now at 
 the death-bed of one of the wrong-doers. 
 
 " I am ready, father," she said. 
 
 He turned his face toward her, and spoke in a low voice, 
 for he was beginning to be exhausted with excitement and 
 fatigue. 
 
 " You can not know, my dear, whether you are doing 
 right or wrong. You are acting from impulse and emo- 
 tion. Let me tell you the story first, and then, if you will, 
 you shall send the message." 
 
 "That would be disloyal to my mother," she answered. 
 " It is my duty, now that I know she lives and is within 
 reach, to bring her to you, and to me, without any doubt 
 of her fitness to be with her child. She is my mother. 
 That is all I care to know, to make me wish to have her 
 here at once." 
 
 ""Well, well !" he resumed, a little wearily and bitter- 
 ly, " youth is always full of confidence. It is well that it 
 is so, for otherwise the world would be either a poor-house 
 or a lunatic asylum. Xow write : 
 
 " To Miss Sarah Mullin " 
 
 " I thought the message was to be sent direct to my 
 mother," interrupted Alana. 
 
 "You are right : Sarah Mullin is your mothers 
 name. " 
 
 " How can that be, if she is your wife ? " 
 
 "She is not my wife." He covered his face with his 
 hands as he made this avowal, as though to shut out from
 
 12 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 his eyes the look of astonishment and reproach that he knew 
 would be turned upon him. 
 
 " My mother ! " exclaimed Alana, "and not your wife ? " 
 
 ''Oh, the shame of it ! the shame of it ! " he cried, 
 excitedly. " That a father should be forced to make such 
 a confession to his daughter ! Yes ! your mother, and 
 yet not my wife." 
 
 " You will make her your wife, as soon as she can get 
 here," said Alana, rising from the desk, and falling on her 
 knees by the side of the bed. "You will do this for my 
 sake, if not for hers. father ! dear father ! it may be 
 the last request that I shall ever make of you." 
 
 The sick man made no answer. His hands still covered 
 his face, but his whole body was trembling with the emo- 
 tion that raged within him. 
 
 " Father, did you hear me ? Give me the address, and 
 let me send for her at once. Then when she is here you 
 will do what justice and honor require." 
 
 "Send for her," he said, feebly; ''but as to marrying 
 her, that is impossible." 
 
 She bent over the bed, and, taking his hands in hers, 
 drew them away from his face. " Dear father," she said, 
 "you have never broken your word to me.'' 
 
 " No, dear, I have kept faith with you, I think." 
 
 " Last year, when I was very ill," she continued, with 
 a trembling voice, "you knelt by the side of my bed, just 
 as I am kneeling now, and you took my hands in yours as 
 I have yours at this moment, and you said that if I would 
 get well you would do anything I asked you." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I remember." 
 
 " I thought then that when I was well enough I would 
 ask you to tell me about my mother, but after I recovered 
 I was afraid. I dreaded that she had done something that 
 would make me lose the love I had for her, even though 
 she had passed from my memory. But now I am no
 
 ON THE SrSQUEHA>rSA. 13 
 
 longer afraid. The worst is known to me, and it is from 
 yon, not her, that reparation most come, and I ask YOU to 
 remember your solemn promise and to grant my request" 
 
 "Suppose that you were to ask, instead, that I should 
 kill you, do you think I would be bound by my promise ?* 
 
 " Xo, for I should be asking you to do me an injury 
 and to commit a crime.*' 
 
 " For me to marry your mother and to hare her here 
 as I should hare to do, would be almost as great a wrong 
 to you, ay, worse, than if I were to strike yon dead ! Do 
 yon not know that as my widow she would be mistress 
 here, and that one third of my eatrfo would go to her ? " 
 
 "It matters nothing to me if she gets it all She is 
 -v -:-:.- 
 
 " Yes, that is all you see in the matter. She is your 
 mother, and, knowing nothing else than that fact, yon are 
 willing to risk your happiness in order to hare an act of 
 fancied justice done to her. Give me another dose of the 
 mixture," he continued, in a Toice scarcely above a whit- 
 per. 
 
 She mixed the medicine for him, and he drank it at a 
 draught. 
 
 " It is a wonderful remedy.." he resumed. " It acts on 
 the rery instant. In one moment I shall be able to go on. 
 Xow," after a little pause during which he was not only rest- 
 ing but was trying to arrange his ideas in a coherent form, 
 "where was I? Oh, yes, 'act of fancied justice.' My 
 dear child, I yerily believe I am on my death-bed, and that 
 I have but a few hours to live. On the very brink of the 
 grave I say to yon these things. It was from no fault of 
 mine that I did not marry your mother. TThen I thought 
 her, as I once did, more sinned against than sinning, I was 
 prepared, nay, anxious, to make her my wife. But I was 
 then only a student, and with barely enough means at 
 my command to finish my education as a mining engineer,
 
 14 ON THE SUSQUEHANffA. 
 
 and she had no intention of marrying a poor man, or, in- 
 deed, as I afterward ascertained, of marrying at all." 
 
 "Go on," said Alana ; "I can bear it all. There can 
 not be anything worse than what you have told me." 
 
 " Yes, there is worse to come. She was the daughter 
 of the woman with whom I boarded. She was very beauti- 
 ful, but coarse in manner and speech. I was only twenty 
 years of age. She was thirty. Before you were born, I 
 urged her over and over again to marry me, but she refused. 
 I even went so far as to endeavor to accomplish by strata- 
 gem what I could not effect by persuasion, but she discov- 
 ered my plan and I was foiled. Understand me, that I was 
 actuated not by love for her, for that had been only a tran- 
 sient feeling, but by an honest desire to save her from dis- 
 grace, and to protect my unborn child." 
 
 Alana's face was pressed close against the bed. If she 
 had raised it, her father would have seen that it was crim- 
 Bon with shame. 
 
 " I sent her into the country, and there you were born. 
 From time to time I heard that all was going well. Then 
 I ceased to receive further intelligence. I wrote, but my 
 letters remained unanswered. Finally, I went to the vil- 
 lage, only to learn from the woman with whom I had 
 placed her, that she had disappeared in the night, leaving 
 you at the door of the county poor-house to be cared for 
 by public charity. 
 
 " You may think it strange," he went on, after trying 
 in vain to soothe Alana, who was sobbing and moaning 
 with her face buried in the bed, "that I can speak about 
 all this without showing any emotion, while you, my poor 
 child, are overwhelmed with grief ; but long familiarity 
 with the matter has blunted my sensibilities. I have 
 become hardened to the contemplation of events that at 
 first almost 'made me insane. I have looked forward, too, 
 through many years to this hour. I knew it had to come,
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHASXA- 15 
 
 and that I should be obliged to reveal to yon the fact of mj 
 and TOOT mother's dishonor, or leave yon to learn it from 
 other and perhaps unfriendly lips. 
 
 " There is not much more to telL I had, of course, no 
 difficulty in reclaiming you. I committed you to the care 
 of a good woman tin I had secured for myself a home to 
 which I could bring you. You were then only fire years 
 old, and ever since we hare lived together, almost undis- 
 turbed by the woman who is only your mother in that 
 she brought you into the world. 
 
 "I say 'almost, 1 for once she came here with her 
 brother. I was then rich, and she had gone down lower 
 and lower, till she had reached a depth that I had not 
 thought it possible for even her to reach. I had heard 
 nothing of her from the time that she deserted yon till 
 then. She remained at the village inn, while her brother 
 came here and tried to scare me into acknowledging her 
 as my wife, on the ground that I had married her when I 
 was drunk. Yon were present at the time, and yon doubt- 
 less remember how the attempt ended. I offered an allow- 
 ance, liberal enough in all conscience, but I refused to 
 regard her as my wife. Xow, do yon still wish to see this 
 woman, and do you still think I ought to marry her ? It 
 is for yon to decide. I am in your hands. Do with me as 
 you wiH" 
 
 She raised her head. In presence of the momentous 
 issue forced upon her she had been calm. She bent over 
 and kissed her father's forehead and then his lips. 
 
 "You have suffered for your sin," she said, " but you 
 have been noble and good through it alL God has forgiven 
 you. As for me, I have nothing to forgive. But I think I 
 see clearly that, bad as my mother was, perhaps is, she is 
 still my mother and ought to be your wife. It is for us to 
 do what is right, and who knows but that yet her soul may 
 be saved alive!"
 
 16 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, absently, as though thinking of 
 something else, " who knows ? Send the telegram. My 
 expiation ^hall be complete ; and, as for you, God will pro- 
 tect you through your own goodness and strength." 
 
 She kissed him again, and then, going back to the desk, 
 prepared to finish the message she had begun, and which 
 had not got beyond her mother's name. 
 
 "Miss Sarah Mullin," he repeated "I am not sure 
 about the name ; she has changed it several times. The 
 checks all came back indorsed with that name, but I have 
 heard that she has been known by several others. You 
 will have no trouble with her after I am gone, if you should 
 yet decide not to send for her." 
 
 He uttered these last words in a pleading sort of tone, 
 as though still hoping that the message calling her might 
 not be sent. " All you will have to do will be to continue 
 the allowance, and remain firm against all attempts to 
 blackmail you. She is an adept at that business, and so is 
 her brother ; but a little firmness and a few threats always 
 brought them to reason. My dear Alana," he continued, 
 still more feebly than he had yet spoken, " I am very tired. 
 No one here knows anything about it. You are safe so 
 long as you pay the allowance. It is too late ! The valley 
 of the shadow of death again ! Alana, my darling ! " 
 
 In a moment she was at his side. A smile was on his 
 face. Hurriedly she mixed another dose of the invigorat- 
 ing draught and held it to his lips. " Father ! " she cried 
 "father!" 
 
 He was still smiling. He opened his eyes for an in- 
 stant, as she gazed anxiously into his face, and then he 
 closed them forever. 
 
 Francis Honeywood was dead.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE "Susquehanna Iron-Works," to the ownership of 
 which Alana Honeywood succeeded by the terms of her 
 father's will, are situated on the left bank of the pictur- 
 esque river from which they receive their name, and that 
 courses from north to south through the State of Pennsyl- 
 vania. The only town very near, is the little village in- 
 habited by the workmen and their families, and the few 
 others that minister to their wants. It had not been 
 thought necessary to give this collection of about a hun- 
 dred houses any special name, though attempts had been 
 made by the outsiders to call it Honey woodvi lie attempts 
 that both Mr. Honeywood and his daughter had strenu- 
 ously and successfully resisted. The place was the " Sus- 
 quehanna Iron- Works," and that was also the designation 
 given by the Post-0 ffice Department. Proprietorship and 
 official sanction had thus prevented the imposition of the 
 barbarism " Honey woodville " upon the pretty little village 
 that lay deep in the shadows of Peter's and Berry's Mount- 
 ains, where the Susquehanna, in ages long gone by, had 
 broken through the range that then stood like a vast dam 
 across its stream. 
 
 Fifteen miles to the south, and on the other side of 
 several ranges of mountains, is the city of Harrisburg, to 
 which place there is easy access by a good road that winds 
 round the mountains along the river-bank, as well as by 
 the Northern Central Railroad. 
 
 Mr. Honeywood had been dead two years, and during
 
 18 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 that time no very notable events had occurred to disturb 
 the peace that Alana courted. She had made many at- 
 tempts to discover her mother, but all had resulted unsuc- 
 cessfully. She had been unable to find her father's private 
 check-book, or any of the paid checks, that must, of 
 course, in the ordinary routine of business, have been 
 returned to him. She had no clew to her mother's ad- 
 dress, and no demand had ever been made on her for 
 money. A few weeks after Mr. Honeywood's death, she 
 had gone to Philadelphia, and, taking a city directory, had 
 found that there were eleven women of the name of Sarah 
 Mullin, whose residences were given. 
 
 Then she had gone to each one of them, occupying the 
 greater part of the day in the undertaking ; but it was 
 quite certain that no one of those bearing the name was 
 her mother. A like procedure in Baltimore and in New 
 York had led to an almost identical result ; I say " almost," 
 because, in the latter city, a woman, calling herself Sarah 
 Mullin, had come to see her at her hotel, and had repre- 
 sented herself as being the person of whom Alana was in 
 search. She described Mr. Francis Honeywood very ac- 
 curately, and claimed that Alana was her daughter ; but a 
 little sharp cross-examination on the part of Mr. "Wade, 
 Alana's legal adviser, who had accompanied her to the 
 city, was sufficient to show her to be a badly informed im- 
 postor. 
 
 During all the time that she was conducting the search, 
 and for several months subsequently, she had had an ad- 
 vertisement in the following terms kept standing in the 
 most prominent Philadelphia and New York newspapers : 
 
 " Sarah Mullin, who, in the year 1855 or thereabout, 
 in the city of Philadelphia, made the acquaintance of Mr. 
 Francis Honeywood, is requested to communicate without 
 delay with Mr. William Wade, attorney-at-law, Susque- 
 hanna Iron- Works, Dauphin County, Pennsylvania."
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 19 
 
 Many answers were received to this advertisement. 
 Some of them were intended as jokes, some as insults, 
 others appeared at first sight as though they might lead to 
 some certain information ; but full inquiry always showed 
 them to be either written in ignorance or as clumsy at- 
 tempts at fraud. 
 
 Then, feeling that she had done everything in her 
 power to discover her mother, and thus to rescue her from 
 the sinful and criminal life that there was reason to believe 
 she was leading, Alana gave up all active prosecution of 
 the search, though Mr. Wade had instructions to follow up 
 any line of investigation that might be presented. 
 
 Certainly the ill success that had attended upon her ef- 
 forts was very astonishing, and, as Mr. Wade admitted, ab- 
 solutely incomprehensible. Here was a woman, who, ac- 
 cording to her fathers dying words, had been for many 
 years in the receipt of a large annuity, paid quarterly, as 
 he had declared, and by checks, suddenly disappearing on 
 the death of the man who had given her the means of sup- 
 port, and leaving no signs behind her by which she could 
 be traced. Of course, inquiry had been made of the banks 
 with the view of ascertaining by whom the checks had 
 been presented. Mr. Honeywood, it was known, had kept 
 funds in two banks in Philadelphia and in one in Harris- 
 barg ; but from neither of them had any information bear- 
 ing upon the subject been received. Indeed, the books of 
 the institutions showed that no sums of money of a fixed 
 amount had been regularly drawn by Mr. Honerwood's 
 checks, nor had the officers ever been called upon, so far as 
 they knew and they were certain on the point to pay 
 money on his order to any woman during all the years that 
 he had had business with them, except to Miss Honey- 
 wood. Clearly there must have been another bank, prob- 
 ably out of the State, in which he had kept enough money 
 to meet his checks in Miss Mallin's favor, and for no other
 
 20 ON TOE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 purpose. Or, for greater secrecy, he may have had funds 
 in some private person's hands, and have given his checks 
 on him. Nevertheless, a circular, sent to every public 
 bank in the United States, failed to bring any response, 
 and no private person made any sign that he had had 
 pecuniary relations of the kind mentioned with Mr. Fran- 
 cis Honeywood. 
 
 Mr. Wade was astonished, even more than was Alana. 
 He had been, for many years, her father's legal adviser. 
 He owned a large tract of mountain-land in the immediate 
 vicinity of the Susquehanna Iron- Works, on which he had 
 erected a sort of round tower, in which he lived during 
 the summer, when the courts were, most of them, closed, 
 while in winter he resided in Harrisburg. Being a bache- 
 lor, and well advanced in years, he could do pretty much 
 as he pleased, and he did it to his heart's content. This 
 tower overlooked the river, being placed high up on the 
 edge of the mountain, where once the river had flowed ; it 
 was, of all structures in the world, one of the most un- 
 comfortable for an average human being to live in. It was 
 three stories high, with only one room on a floor, and this 
 round and of about thirty feet in diameter. On the inside 
 was a winding staircase, made of iron, and just wide 
 enough to admit of the passage of one person at a time. 
 Mr. Wade was tall and thin, and was therefore able to 
 ascend this special arrangement without much difficulty, 
 but a person of very little more than his amplitude would 
 certainly have been unable to pass between the newel-posts 
 at the bottom. The lower floor was his dining-room, the 
 next his library and sitting-room, and the third and top- 
 most was where he slept. The kitchen and a room for the 
 man-servant and woman-servant husband and wife that 
 he kept, were entirely detached from the tower. 
 
 The result of the search for Miss Sarah Mullin had dis- 
 turbed Mr. Wade very greatly. Alana had at once given
 
 ON THE SUSQCEHAXXA. 21 
 
 him her full confidence, and had succeeded in obtaining 
 his interest in the inquiry she was about to make. At first 
 he had said that there would be no trouble in the matter ; 
 that the power of money was such that, when the time 
 came round for the payment of Miss Sarah Muffin's quar- 
 terly allowance, the lady would not kt the matter go by 
 default, for more than a day or two, before a reminder, 
 couched probably in no gentle strains, would be received at 
 the Susquehanna Iron- Works. But as month after month 
 went by, and no demand was received, he confessed that it 
 was the strangest case that had ever come under his obser- 
 vation, and that nothing like it was to be found in any 
 "Beports" of which he had knowledge. 
 
 "It's strange, too," he said one night, after about a 
 year had elapsed, and he was sitting on the balcony that he 
 had built around his tower on a level with the floor of the 
 second story " if s strange that I have never heard any- 
 thing of this woman during all the years that I knew Honey- 
 wood. What an awful blow it must have been for that poor 
 girl, but how nobly she bears it ! Not one woman in a thou- 
 sand in her place would have wanted to be brought into con- 
 tact with such a mother as Miss Sarah Mnllin must be. I 
 shudder when I think that some day she may turn up, and 
 disgrace her daughter with her presence. 
 
 "I hope she is dead I think she must be, for other- 
 wise the failure to pay her allowance would have brought 
 her here as fast as steam could bring her. I don't under- 
 stand it at all No trace ; not as much as would have been 
 left behind if an earthquake had swallowed her, and every 
 one connected with her. Well, for my part, I'm devilish 
 glad that Honeywood died before he could tell anything 
 more about her. And, by George, Pm not by any means 
 sure that what he did tell was correct ! Seeing that his 
 daughter was determined to have her mother come, he may 
 have given a false name, for the express purpose of putting
 
 22 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 her on the wrong track ; still, he would scarcely have been 
 such a scoundrel as to tell her that her mother was not his 
 wife unless it were true ! He wasn't that kind of a man ; I 
 never knew him to do anything dishonorable, and it's hard 
 that his one act of youthful folly one, too, that he tried so 
 hard to repair should now bear so hard on his daughter. 
 Poor girl, poor girl ! How keenly she feels the disgrace ! 
 How well she sees that success in her search can only add 
 to her shame, and make public a circumstance that, so far 
 as I can see, she and I only know ; and yet she perseveres 
 as steadfastly as though the result would only redound to 
 her honor ! And so it will," he added, after he had watched 
 a long train of cars wind round the base of the mountain ; 
 "what can be more honorable to her than the self-sacrifice 
 she is trying to make ? By Jove, it is sublime, simply sub- 
 lime ! 
 
 "Let me see," he continued, having in the mean time 
 gone into the room, and returned with a lighted cigar 
 in his mouth, at which he was puffing energetically. 
 ".Twenty-six years ago, and she was then, so he said, ten 
 years older than he. He was forty-five when he died, and 
 he has been dead a year. That would make her fifty-six 
 now. Quite old enough, she is, to throw off the follies of 
 youth, and settle down as a respectable woman. 
 
 "There's nothing like a cigar for quickening the intel- 
 lect. Now, with all our inquiries neither of us thought of 
 trying to find the woman with whom Honeywood boarded 
 when he was a student, and whose seductive daughter, ten 
 years older than himself, lured him from the paths of vir- 
 tue. That was very stupid, and I'll make amends for my 
 idiocy by going to Philadelphia to-morrow, and starting 
 inquiries in that direction. In the mean time, nothing shall 
 prevent my hoping that this, like all the other leads, may 
 result in nothing. I believe that, if the woman should be 
 found, Alana would give her a third of the property, just
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 23 
 
 as though she had been her fathers wife. If she should 
 turn out, after all, to be a decent woman, that would be 
 very well ; but if she's the sort of an old reprobate that I 
 take her to be, it would be casting pearls before swine. 
 
 well Honeywood made a will, or there might some 
 day arise a question as to Alana's right to inherit I don't 
 know that he left any relatives, but, after a man's dead, it's 
 astonishing how the cousins turn up in all quarters of the 
 earth. "Where the carcass is, there shall the vultures be 
 gathered together. That's as true as gospel. By George, 
 I believe it is gospel ! " 
 
 The next morning, early, without speaking of his inten- 
 tions to any one but old Jacob Schwartz and his wife, who 
 looked after his domestic affairs, Mr. Wade departed for 
 Philadelphia. Arriving there, his first business was to go to 
 the university, in order to ascertain all the facts in regard 
 to the collegiate record of Mr. Honeywood that bore upon 
 the question in which he was interested. He had no diffi- 
 culty in finding out that the young man had been a student 
 of the Scientific School, and the old janitor professed to 
 have a very distinct idea of his personal appearance and 
 manner of life. 
 
 "I recollect Mr. Honeywood," he said, "just as well as 
 I recollect my own son, and he's been dead just twenty-six 
 years. Mr. Honeywood sat up with him two nights dur- 
 ing the last illness the poor boy had, and helped me to give 
 him a decent funeral. You see, then I was only a sort of 
 helper to the janitor. Xow I'm the janitor him self." And, 
 with these words, the old man drew himself up proudly, 
 as though fully conscious of the honor attached to his 
 office. 
 
 '*' Then he was a very correct young man ? " said Mr. 
 Wade, interrogatively. 
 
 'Yes, sir; just as straight as a die. !Never going off 
 with the other boys, and always attending to his work. I 
 2
 
 24: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 hear he's got to be very rich ; but he hasn't forgotten Peter 
 Mitchell, I'll be bound." 
 
 " He's dead, and I have come to get some information 
 from you as to where he lived, when he was a student here." 
 
 "I'm sorry he's dead he was good to my boy. I hope 
 he's better off in the next world than he was in this, though, 
 from all I've heard, he had a pretty good thing of it here. 
 I heard Professor Franborough say, in one of his lectures, 
 that Mr. Honeywood's furnace was a model for them to 
 study. But what do you want to know ? " 
 
 "As I said, I want to know where he boarded." 
 
 "Well, he had a room at Mrs. Mullin's" Mr. Wade 
 started at the name ; at last, he thought, he had struck the 
 right track "in Sansom Street, above Broad. He wasn't 
 rich in those days, I can tell you, so he had to take care of 
 every penny. I went there once to tell him of a bad night 
 my boy had passed." 
 
 " Do you know anything of Mrs. Mullin's family ? Did 
 she have a son or or a daughter ? " 
 
 " She had a son, for he used to come to the college on 
 messages for the young gentlemen that boarded with his 
 mother, but I never heard of a daughter. And I'm pretty 
 sure there was only one son." 
 
 "Then she had other boarders from among the stu- 
 dents ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, three or four ; but who they were, I can't tell 
 you now. But Bill, the boy, was a bad fellow. He got 
 into a fight with the police down in Southwark, or what 
 used to be Southwark I'm so accustomed to the old name 
 that I can't get used to this new-fangled thing of consolida- 
 tion. Well, as I was saying, he got into a fight with the 
 police about some old junk he was trying to steal, and he 
 got knocked on the head with a locust club, and in a day 
 or two afterward he died. You see I know all about that, 
 for he was taken to the hospital in Pine Street, and Pro-
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAyx^ .-. 
 
 leebned on him. The next da he was 
 
 "Soheisdead! And when was this?" 
 
 "I^t me see," answered the old man, rcflectiTelr. "It 
 was the night of the election of Lincoln the second time, or 
 the night after. I know it by the fact that they were fir- 
 ing cannon while Professor Mangum was giving his lecture 
 on Bill's case. Bill died on the second day after he was 
 struck. The professor objected to the firing, he said, be- 
 OB8e it made snch a noise that he could not hear himaelf 
 speak, hat the boys said it was because he was a Democrat. v 
 
 "Then it must have harpi-nrd in the early part of Xo- 
 
 "Yes, I goes yon are right" 
 
 "I am much obliged to yon. Yon don't recollect Mis. 
 Muffin's number?" 
 
 " Xo, hut it was just a couple of doors abore the Acad- 
 emy of Xararal Sciences. They're made a hotel of it 
 
 "Of the house?" 
 
 "Xo, of the academy. And didn't von know that? I 
 thought everybody knew that." 
 
 "If I did, I hid forgotten it TO find the place." 
 
 He found it without much trouble. People in Phila- 
 delphia don't change their residences often, and the occu- 
 pants of the house had been in it nearly twenty years, being 
 the immediate successors of Mrs. Muffin. The old lady, 
 howerer. who appeared to be the mistress of the house, 
 knew nothing of her predecessor, nor whether or not there 
 was a daughter. So the end was that Mr. Wade returned 
 to his round tower on the Snaquehanna, no wiser than when 
 he left, except that he had discovered that there had' been 
 aili?. Muffin, that there had also been a son, and that this 
 yoang man, after leading a disreputable life, had been kited 
 by a policeman in the early part of Xorember, 1864, AD
 
 26 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 this was not much, but it might be the means of leading to 
 something more definite, and therefore was not to be de- 
 spised. He had been a lawyer long enough to know that 
 facts of this kind, slight as they may at first appear to be, 
 are sometimes the determinating factors in important inves- 
 tigations. 
 
 For some time after this event, Alana had actively car- 
 ried on the search, but eventually, after persevering for two 
 years without meeting with the slightest encouragement, 
 she had, as I have said, allowed the matter to subside, though 
 it was rarely for any considerable period entirely out of 
 her mind. 
 
 In the mean time, everything of a material character 
 had gone well with her. The works of which she was now 
 the owner were in the most flourishing condition. The 
 mines of iron and coal that supplied the forge, and that 
 were almost within a stone's throw, had never been more 
 productive. She had begun the erection of another and 
 larger furnace, and had more orders for iron than she 
 could fill. The fact that she owned the ore that she 
 worked, and the coal with which she worked it, and the 
 close proximity of the mines, gave her advantages over her 
 business competitors that told greatly in her favor. Be- 
 sides, the product of her works was of a very tough and 
 fibrous character, and was in demand for the purpose of 
 being manufactured into wheels for locomotives and rail- 
 way-cars, and the number of furnaces in the country that 
 could turn out the kind of iron requisite for these uses was 
 exceedingly limited. 
 
 Mentally she had suffered much, and this fact was made 
 apparent by the change that had ensued in her counte- 
 nance, as well as in her manner and character. Previous 
 to the death of her father, she had been remarkable for her 
 radiant though somewhat stately beauty ; but now, while 
 her features had undergone little if any alteration, the ex-
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAyyA. 27 
 
 pression had altogether changed. The stateliness seemed 
 to hare increased, while the radiance had correspondingly 
 diminished. The joy that comes from a mind at ease with 
 itself and all the world, and which alone often stamps 
 a commonplace face with an expression that constitutes 
 heanty, had gone, and in its stead had appeared a gravity, 
 a seriousness, that were scarcely ever absent And when 
 she smiled, which was rarely the case, this peculiar tone 
 of sadness was there to modify the exhibition of pleasure, 
 and often to remain mistress of the facial field. 
 
 She had never had many companions. There was little 
 or no society in the immediate neighborhood that interested 
 her ; and Harrisburg, where there were a few people that 
 she might have liked, was rather too far away for social 
 intimacies. Occasionally she had passed a few days at a 
 time with a friend, a widow, a Mrs. Priestly, who had two 
 very charming daughters, much younger, however, than 
 Alana, and who had also a well-appointed residence on the 
 river-bank, or "The Bank," as it was generally called. 
 Then the visits were returned by the three ladies, and thus 
 a mild form of intimacy had been kept up. At the works 
 or in their vicinity there were but four persons outside of 
 her own house with whom she had intimate social rela- 
 tions, and these were all of the male eex. First, there was 
 Mr. Wade, with whom the reader has already made ac- 
 quaintance; next, there was Dr. Arndell, who has been 
 mentioned as the physician who attended her father, and 
 who had for five or six years had the medical charge of 
 the workmen and their families, as well as of her own 
 household ; then there was the Bev. Mr. Trevor, who 
 cared for them all spiritually, and who was the rector of 
 the little church that, soon after erecting his furnace and 
 its accessories, Mr. Honeywood had built ; and last of all 
 socially, bat by no means last in importance, was Mr. John 
 Benham, the superintendent of the establishment, forge,
 
 28 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 iron-mines, coal-mines, lime-kilns, in fact of everything, 
 and of every person concerned in the getting of the iron out 
 of the earth, and its manufacture into the pigs that were 
 piled up in great cubical masses at almost every place about 
 the works where room for them was to be found. 
 
 Alana very soon discovered that it would not do for her 
 to yield to the depressing emotions that crowded upon her. 
 Her position she felt most keenly. She knew that she had 
 in reality no legal right to her father's name, and, being 
 naturally of a high-spirited nature, the thought galled her 
 to a degree that was almost unbearable. She had, previous- 
 ly to her father's death, been rather proud of her ancestry. 
 The Honeywoods were one of the most eminent families of 
 England, going back in a direct line to the time of the 
 Conqueror, a Sir Guillaume de Bois-Mielleuse having been 
 one of the most redoubtable knights of Duke William's 
 army with which he had overcome Harold at Hastings. 
 Now, the consciousness of possessing a noble ancestry was 
 taken away from her, and in a manner, too, to shake her 
 pride to its very foundations. There was a blot upon her 
 pedigree that, so far as she could perceive, there was no possi- 
 bility of her effacing, and of the existence of which she would, 
 to the last day of her life, be painfully conscious. The 
 more she thought of the matter, the worse it appeared to be. 
 Everything that her father, in the course of his recital of 
 the story of his life, had said relative to her mother, was of 
 such a character as to cause her heart to sink within her 
 at the idea of that mother's life of shame perhaps, now, 
 still more shameful than it had ever been before. She 
 knew little of the evil ways of the world, for her life had 
 been, as we already know, a comparatively secluded one, 
 but she had dim and uncertain ideas that there were 
 depths of depravity into which women sometimes fall, and 
 that it was almost an act of impurity for her to think of. 
 Had her mother sunk below the surface of the current so
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 29 
 
 as to be out of the course through which the life of the 
 world passes ? Yes, it must be so, and that was doubtless 
 the reason why no trace of her could be discoTered. Per- 
 haps it would be well if she were dead, for then, at least, 
 she would have closed her account on earth, and no further 
 sins could be charged against her. 
 
 But, as often as this thought occurred to Alana, it never 
 stayed long in her mind. From the very first she had re- 
 solved that it was her duty to leave nothing undone that 
 could by any possibility lead to the discovery of her 
 mother, and her reclamation to an honest and decent life. 
 The failure to find her had been a great disappointment, 
 and, what was more, a great sorrow. It was for a long 
 time almost impossible for her to avoid making ideal situa- 
 tions in her mind, in which her mother appeared as the 
 chief personage, sometimes as a pauper, again as a criminal, 
 always in some degraded position from which a daughter's 
 love and power might, were there an opportunity for them 
 to be exercised, be potent factors in her salvation. 
 
 Alana was endowed with one of those minds that are 
 capable of self -protection. It is true that she had, almost 
 throughout the whole period of her existence, been accus- 
 tomed to rely on her father as her guide in all matters in 
 which she required advice. But the potentiality for inde- 
 pendent action existed, although there had not heretofore 
 been occasion for calling it into exercise. She found that 
 the concentration of her thoughts upon one subject was 
 making her morbid. She was beginning to enter into that 
 condition in which the person sees everything with a jaun- 
 diced eye, and in which even the most cheerful subjects 
 are distorted into a melancholy tint. She was sensible 
 enough to perceive that this was all wrong, and to deter- 
 mine to break loose from mental associations that she was 
 convinced would, if kept up, not only render her supremely 
 unhappy, but, what was of more importance in her esti-
 
 30 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 mation, prevent her doing the good that she wished to do 
 with the large pecuniary means at her disposal. 
 
 While her father lived, she had not taken much interest 
 in the ''Works," as they were generally called by those who 
 had anything to do with them. She had heard the state of 
 the markets, the tariff, the price of labor, and other mat- 
 ters bearing on the business, discussed by her father and 
 Mr. Wade, or Mr. Benham, and sometimes even with Dr. 
 Arndell and Mr. Trevor. She had frequently ventured to 
 excite the interest of her visitors or to gratify their curios- 
 ity by showing them, under the guidance of Mr. John 
 Benham, through the forge, and even to descend into the 
 iron and coal mines. On such occasions she had wondered 
 as much as did her friends at the mechanical appliances that 
 she saw and the skill with which they were used. She had 
 also admired the big, burly fellows that, bare to the waist 
 and dripping with perspiration, handled the large pots of 
 melted iron as though they were tin pails, and poured the red- 
 hot metal that dazzled her eyes into molds with as much 
 ease as a boy would handle a ladle of melted lead when mak- 
 ing bullets. But, for all this, she had concerned herself very 
 little with the every-day routine business of the works, and 
 but, as I have said, for the purpose of gratifying her 
 friends, would never have put her foot inside of forge or 
 mines from one year's end to the other. 
 
 But now, when in her tribulation she resolved to make a 
 mighty effort to get rid of the depressing emotions that 
 were bearing so heavily upon her, the idea occurred to her 
 that nothing could be more effectual in assisting her to ac- 
 complish her object than the active occupation for both 
 mind and body that would be secured were she herself to 
 take her father's place as controller of the works. She was 
 owner, the mistress of a large establishment doing an im- 
 portant work in adding to the productiveness of the coun- 
 try ; the destinies of ceveral hundred men, women, and
 
 OH THE STSQUEHAXXA. 31 
 
 children were in her hands : was it not her duty, more than 
 for her own sake, to exercise some degree of personal su- 
 pervision over these great interests ? Had she not a stew- 
 ardship of which she would some day be caned upon to 
 render an account? Yes, here was her field for the work 
 that would not only clear her mind of the ^ perilous stuff " 
 that fiHed it, but that would also make her once more 
 an active power in doing good to those dependent upon 
 1::. 
 
 For a fun year she had, so far as any personal inter- 
 ference of hers was concerned, allowed matters connected 
 with the works to go their own way. But they had not, 
 for an that, been neglected. Her father had trusted John 
 Benham as fully as it was possible for one man to trust an- 
 other. There had been no restrictions on his management 
 of an the many details connected with the large business, 
 reserving to himself only the dictation of the general policy 
 of the establishment and the final word in all large transac- 
 tions. Even in these, however, John BenhanTs advice was 
 usually followed, and, as a rule, all negotiations, whether 
 for the purchase of new ore-beds or for the sate of manu- 
 factured iron, were first or last passed upon by him. Only 
 the day before he died, Mr. Honeywood had, while telling 
 Alana "of the responsibilities that after his death would 
 rest upon her, expressed the satisfaction he felt that a man 
 like John Benham was in charge of the works, and that 
 theref ore her load would be lessened in weight 
 
 Alana had at first taken her father's commendation for 
 more than it was meant to imply, and had 
 question or made a suggestion in regard to the 
 Certainly, so far as the material prosperity of the works 
 was concerned, she could not have done better, for never 
 before, in all their existence of nearly twenty years, had 
 things been in better condition than during the year that 
 John Benham had had fuU swing, with no one to interfere
 
 32 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 with him. Already he had suggested the enlargement of 
 the works in order to be enabled to take the great number 
 of orders offering that they were, for want of facilities, 
 obliged to decline. Even Mr. Wade, who was naturally of 
 a suspicious and untrusting disposition, had admitted that 
 John Benham was a man that could be depended upon in 
 any emergency, and that could be relied upon to render an 
 honest account of his trust. Mr. Wade based his assertions 
 not on emotion or on guess-work, but on the thorough in- 
 spection that he had made of the books and accounts, and 
 on the fact that the sums that John Benham turned over 
 at the end of each quarter were larger than any that had 
 been before rendered, and had exactly agreed with the fig- 
 ures that he (Mr. Wade) had obtained from his examina- 
 tions. 
 
 Matters had, as I have said, gone on without the occur- 
 rence of any events worthy of being noted, till two years 
 had elapsed since Mr. Honeywood's death. For about a 
 year Alana had been exercising a general supervision over 
 her affairs. In order to do this to the best advantage, it 
 had been necessary for her to become acquainted with the 
 numberless details of the large establishment, and with the 
 methods of transacting business. For the accomplishment 
 of this object John Benham's assistance had been absolutely 
 necessary, and. it had been given with a sincere desire on 
 his part that Miss Honeywood should acquire all the infor- 
 mation essential to the accomplishment of her purpose. 
 As soon as she had determined upon her course, she sent 
 for him and told him of the resolution she had formed, and 
 the'reasons by which she had been actuated. She did not 
 ask him what he thought of her intention, and he did not 
 venture to tell her that it met with his approval. He only 
 promised that so far as he was concerned she should receive 
 his aid right loyally. Then, after arranging for the begin- 
 ning on the morrow of a thorough inspection of the whole
 
 OX THE SUSQUKHAXXA. 33 
 
 establishment as a preliminary to her work, he bade her good- 
 morning, and went about the business he had in hand. 
 
 ''To-morrow, then," exclaimed Alana, as soon as the 
 door had closed upon the superintendent, "I begin a new 
 life. 71 A year of this life had elapsed when we again take 
 up the thread of her history.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "So you think we should decline the order of the 
 Pennsylvania Railroad Company ? " 
 
 "Yes, Miss Honeywood, I do. The price offered is 
 considerably below the market value, and if we accept it 
 we shall, with our present means, be unable to execute the 
 order of the Union Pacific, which is worth more to us." 
 
 " "When do you expect to have the new forge ready ? " 
 
 "Certainly not for a month, and perhaps two. The 
 contractor had a strike among his men yesterday. All the 
 brick-layers quit work without a minute's notice, simply 
 because he had discharged a foreman that they liked. But 
 for that we should be in it in less than two weeks." 
 
 " He can get other workmen, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, he has gone to Harrisburg, and has telegraphed 
 to Philadelphia for others, but still the loss of time will be 
 considerable. He will lose money too." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 "Don't you recollect, Miss Honeywood, that he is 
 under a forfeit of two hundred dollars for every day after 
 the 15th of September that the stack remains unfinished ? 
 It is now the 5th. He will probably be behindhand fif- 
 teen days, perhaps more." 
 
 " He shall not lose money on that account, if the delay 
 is owing to the strike, and the strike was, as you tell me, 
 due to his dismissal of a foreman. Assure him of that, 
 Mr. Benham. What kind of a man is this foreman ?" 
 
 "A worthless fellow, lazy and drunken. If he had
 
 ON THE SrSQUEHAXXA. 35 
 
 been capable and faithful, we should be using the new 
 forge to-day. " 
 
 *' It seems strange to me that Mr. Byles should have 
 employed such a man." 
 
 "He made a mistake, as others wiser than he have 
 done before him, and as others will do after him." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so," assented Alana, turning over 
 some papers that lay on the table at which she was sitting, 
 and looking carelessly at the indorsements. "I had a 
 letter this morning from the foreman. He complains of 
 haying been badly treated, and asks me to interfere in his 
 behalf." 
 
 " I know something about him of my own knowledge," 
 continued Benham. "'Last night the work that had been 
 done on the stack was torn down, and the structure is now 
 a mass of ruins. Of course, it was done by the striking 
 brick-layers. I went by there this morning early, and I 
 found this rule " taking, as he spoke, a folding rule from 
 his pocket " The foreman's name is cut on it," he con- 
 tinned, looking at it closely "'Alexander Todd." He 
 handed the rule to Alana as he spoke, and then rose as if 
 to go. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "here is the name, sure enough. 
 This is pretty strong proof, Mr. Benham, that the late 
 foreman was one of the party that puDed down the stack." 
 
 "Yes, although not absolutely conclusive. Somebody 
 may hare put it there in order to create that impression. 
 Still, his character is so bad, that I strongly suspect him 
 of being the leader in last night's depredations ; and Mr. 
 Byles, the contractor, is so sure of the fact that he has gone 
 to get a warrant for Todd's arrest.*' 
 
 " But where was the watchman ? Surely, there should 
 have been some one there to look after the property at 
 night," 
 
 " There was a watchman, but they tied and blindfolded
 
 36 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 him so that he was prevented giving the alarm. Of course 
 there was a gang of men at work in the forge, but they 
 were busy, and did not hear what was going on." 
 
 "Will you kindly find out for me where Todd lives ? 
 I will go and see him." 
 
 "You go and see him, Miss Honey wood ! " 
 
 " Yes, I wish to hear what he has to say in his defense. 
 He has written me a very well-worded and plausible letter, 
 and I shall answer it in person." 
 
 "If you will allow me to say so, I think you will run 
 some risk of being unpleasantly treated. He was very 
 drunk yesterday." 
 
 "Oh, I am not afraid." . 
 
 " Will you permit me to go with you ? " 
 
 "You are very kind, Mr. Benham, but I think I should 
 prefer to see him alone. Has he a family ? " 
 
 " Yes, a wife. They live in the ravine just beyond the 
 church, in the house that was built for one of the master 
 workmen. I let him have it at a small rent, which, by the 
 by, he has never paid." 
 
 "That looks bad, to begin with. Good-morning, Mr. 
 Benham. Oh, I almost forgot did you not tell me that 
 Mr. Wade had found a large deposit of iron on his land ? " 
 
 "Yes, and that it would be well for us to secure it, for 
 it will be very easily worked, and we shall need more ore 
 after the new forge is in operation. " 
 
 "I will think of it. Good-morning." 
 
 Mr. Benham took his departure, and Alana was left 
 alone. She sat for a few moments with her head resting 
 on her hands, her elbows on the table. The room was the 
 same that her father had used as an office, and was in a 
 wing of the house, having a separate entrance of its own. 
 She had made very little alteration in it, preferring to 
 keep it as nearly as possible as it was when he occupied it. 
 In fact, she had added nothing to its furniture but a
 
 OX THE STJSQUEHANXA. 37 
 
 portrait of him that she had had painted from an excellent 
 photograph, and had hang on the wall immediately over 
 the table at which she sat. 
 
 To-morrow would be the anniversary of his death. 
 Two years had elapsed, and she had accomplished nothing 
 in the matter of her search for her mother. With a sigh 
 she turned to the work before her, which consisted of read- 
 ing some dozen or more letters, and indorsing on each the 
 disposition to be made of it. Then she touched a table-bell 
 near her hand. 
 
 " Give these to Mr. Bowman, please," she said to the 
 boy that made his appearance from the adjoining room. 
 
 Mr. Bowman, it should be stated, was her secretary, 
 and occupied an apartment separated by the room from 
 which the boy came, from that in which she was. There 
 were several clerks besides, but they were connected with 
 Mr. Beuham's office, which was in a separate building be- 
 tween her house and the forge. 
 
 Having finished her morning's work, she went through 
 a passage that led from the wing to the main building, 
 and, going to her own room, put on her hat and a light 
 shawl, and, without a word to any one, started out on her 
 visit to Todd's house. 
 
 She crossed the lawn, and went out through the gate 
 upon a well-shaded lane that led to the entrance of the 
 ravine in which Todd's house was situated. She passed 
 the little stone church that her father had built, and, see- 
 ing that the door was open, looked at her watch, thinking 
 that she might possibly be in time for at least the conclu- 
 sion of the morning service. For Mr. Trevor was a strict 
 churchman, and thought it his duty to have prayers every 
 day whether anybody came or not Generally he had 
 three attendants at his daily ministrations. These were 
 Winebrenner, her housekeeper, who, having begun 
 life as a Lutheran, had been converted from the error of
 
 38 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 her ways through the teachings of Mr. Trevor, and had, of 
 course, gone to the farthest extreme in her efforts to reach 
 ecclesiastical rectitude ; Mrs. Barton, an Englishwoman, 
 who kept a little shop at which the wives and daughters of 
 the workmen might refresh themselves with the so-called 
 latest N"ew York and Paris fashions ; and little Miss Pink, 
 who managed a similar shop, but on a somewhat larger 
 scale as regards scope, though considerably less in actual 
 size. If there was a fourth, it was when Alana made her- 
 self one of the congregation. The look at her watch 
 showed her, however, that she was too late, and she was 
 about resuming her walk, when Mr. Trevor came out of the 
 church, and, seeing her, raised his hat and bade her good- 
 morning. 
 
 "You are late, Miss Honey wood," he said, as he joined 
 her. " Service has been over half an hour. I stayed to talk 
 to Mrs. Todd, the wife of one of the workmen on the new 
 forge. She appears to be in great trouble. She tells me 
 her husband has been discharged from his place as foreman, 
 and that they are in want of the necessaries of life." 
 
 "I am going there now. I would ask you to go with 
 me but for the fact that I wish to have a little private con- 
 versation with her husband. If they are suffering as you 
 say, it is probably on account of his bad habits. I hear 
 that he is a great drunkard." 
 
 " Let me walk with you at any rate as far as the house," 
 said the clergyman, placing himself at her side without 
 waiting for an answer to his request. " I am afraid you are 
 correct in what you say. I saw him this morning going 
 down the lane toward the river, doubtless to old Cooney's 
 grog-shop. He was staggering then, and he was stagger- 
 ing still more when he passed on his way back an hour 
 afterward. I hardly think it is safe for you to go alone to 
 his house." 
 
 " Oh, I am not at all afraid ; I have encountered sev-
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 39 
 
 eral drunken men in my time. If I find that he can not 
 talk intelligently or understand me, I shall soon leave him." 
 
 " But you might find him troublesome. I really think 
 you had better let me be present.'' 
 
 "Xo, I must beg you to allow me to see him alone," 
 she answered, smiling. " Mr. Benham was, equally with 
 you, solicitous for my safety when I told him where I was 
 going, but I answered him, as I do you, that I prefer to be 
 alone." 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed Mr. Trevor, with a hearty laugh, 
 ' I certainly have no right, then, to feel slighted, for Mr. 
 Benham is worth five times more as a defender than I am. 
 He would make short work of Mr. Todd, or indeed of any 
 one else about here, if he chose to let his strength out 
 But here we are at the mouth of the ravine, and if you are 
 obstinate, or shall I say firm, in your desire to be alone, I 
 shall take leave of you here. I don't suppose that you run 
 much risk." He bowed, turned back, and Alana went on 
 her way. 
 
 She did not have far to go, the house not being much over 
 a hundred yards from the place where Mr. Trevor had left 
 her, but the road had now degenerated into a path which, 
 being a little rough, required her to take care where she 
 stepped. There was a wagon-road up the ravine, but it was 
 on a level of fifty feet below where she was walking, the path 
 being on a plateau that skirted the edge of the hill. The 
 house was built on an expansion of this plane, there being 
 at most an acre of ground around it. There was another 
 path still higher up that ran around the mountain spirally, 
 and by which the ascent to its top could be made, but at 
 the point where she was it was probably at least a hun- 
 dred feet above her. Somebody was traversing it, for 
 every now and then a stone was detached and came rolling 
 down the mountain-side across the path she was on, and 
 down into the road at the bottom of the ravine. The two
 
 40 ON THE STJSQUEHASTNA. 
 
 paths were nearly parallel for the first part of their course ; 
 but they soon diverged, the one keeping up the mountain, 
 and the other descending gradually till it joined the road. 
 Whoever he was, the person on the upper path was going 
 much faster than she was, for the stones that at first fell 
 close to her were now rolling down the side a dozen or 
 more yards in front of her. She wondered who it could 
 be that was going so rapidly up the mountain, and then, 
 without stopping to examine further into the matter, she 
 went on till she found herself standing in front of Todd's 
 house. 
 
 She stopped for a moment or two to think before 
 knocking at the door, for she had formed no clear idea of 
 what she proposed to accomplish by the visit she was about 
 to make. 
 
 And, indeed, when she came to think of it, there was no 
 reason why she should make the visit at all. Had she 
 wanted merely to give Mr. Todd an answer to his letter, 
 she could have done it in writing, or have sent for him to 
 call upon her at her office. 
 
 And now she almost made up her mind to go back and 
 adopt one or other of the alternatives mentioned. Then 
 the thought of what Mr. Trevor had told her of Mrs. Todd 
 caused her to decide to go in. It was possible that she 
 might be able to do something to make the life of this 
 woman more tolerable than it appeared to be while she 
 was left to the tender mercies of her husband. So, acting 
 at once on her determination, she knocked on the door 
 with the handle of her parasol. 
 
 There was a rather confused sound of voices from 
 within ; which, however, stopped on her knocking, and the 
 door was immediately opened by a sad, pale-faced woman, 
 who, recognizing her visitor, with many apologies for her 
 personal appearance, and for the dilapidated condition of 
 things in the room, invited her to enter.
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHJLSWA. 41 
 
 She had hardly put her foot beyond the threshold, when 
 a man came forward with a staggering, douching gait. 
 
 "I'm glad to see you, Miss Honeywood," he said, with 
 the ihi^lmgMc of utterance exhibited by drunken people. 
 " I was sure you'd come yourself, to see how poorly we're 
 gettin' along, just because o' that purse-proud Byles, the 
 for the brick and stone work of your new 
 
 While Todd was speaking, Alana had a good oppor- 
 tunity to examine the man. Certainly he was not a pre- 
 possessing-looking person. He was in his shirt-sleeves ; his 
 trousers were tucked into his boots, he was dirty, and he 
 was eridently drunk. He had his hat on when Alana en- 
 tered, and he did not remove it. He ftiaggered over to a 
 distant part of the room, however, and brought a chair for 
 her. As he turned, the sunlight streaming in through a 
 window in the side of the house fell full upon his face, and 
 gave her a better view of it than she had had, and then she 
 perceived that she had seen it somewhere years ago. Where 
 or when she could not tell, but certainly she had seen it 
 before this day. 
 
 " Fre come, Mr. Todd, to hear from you the cause of 
 your dispute with Mr. Byles." 
 
 " Wen," said Todd, not sitting down, but walking the 
 floor, and gesticulating vehemently, " there ain't no cause 
 but his spite. He never did like me, and at last MB spite 
 got the better of him and he sent me off." 
 
 "Mr. Byles says he had ample cause ; that you drank 
 too much, and neglected your work. 7 * 
 
 4 - Then belied thaf sail there is in it. I don't drink 
 as much, as he does, and I have done my best with the 
 work." 
 
 "Dont talk so loud, Alec," said Mrs. Todd; "Use 
 Honeywood ain't deaf." 
 
 "Who's a-talkin* loud, and who said she was deaf?"
 
 42 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 exclaimed Todd, angrily. " You just mind your own busi- 
 ness, will you ?" 
 
 The woman made no reply, but pretended to be busy 
 arranging some plates on a shelf that hung against the wall. 
 
 " I am very sorry, Mr. Todd," said Alana, " to be obliged 
 to say that I think there is ample foundation for his ac- 
 tions. You are also accused of having led the men that 
 demolished the work that had been done on the stack." 
 
 " Then that's another lie ! "Who says that about me ? " 
 
 " This," said Alana, calmly, at the same time taking the 
 rule from her pocket and laying it on the table. "It was 
 found this morning amid the ruins. It has your name 
 on it." 
 
 For a moment the man was dumfounded. He picked 
 up the rule, looked at it closely, and then, putting it into 
 his pocket, said : 
 
 "Did you find this?" 
 
 " No ; Mr. Benham found it." 
 
 " He's another one of them that's down on me. But 
 that ain't no matter, if you'll get Byles to take me back." 
 
 " I am afraid I can not ask Mr. Byles to hire you again." 
 
 " Then give me a place under you. You must have 
 lots of places that I'd fit into." 
 
 " No, I can not employ you here. At the same time, 
 I do not wish your family to be in want. Mr. Byles will 
 probably have you arrested for destroying his work last 
 night, and I must say that you deserve punishment for 
 your conduct, which seems to have been prompted by mere 
 wantonness, or worse, a spirit of revenge." 
 
 " Then you're agin me too. It's the old story of wealth 
 agin honesty, capital agin labor. I'd like to know what 
 right you have to all the mines, and forges, and houses, 
 when I'm cut out of the chance of earnin' my bread ? " 
 
 "It is not necessary for us to discuss that matter, for 
 it has nothing to do with what I came to talk about. I
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 43 
 
 want to be of assistance to your wife. She may continue 
 to occupy this house, and I shall see that she does not want 
 for food and clothing." 
 
 " That's very kind, I'm sure," said the man, ironically. 
 " You'd do her more good by helpin' me than in any other 
 way." 
 
 " Is Alec to be took up ? " inquired Mrs. Todd, anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Mr. Benham informed me this morning that Mr. 
 Byles had gone to get a warrant for his arrest." 
 
 " "Well, I'd like to see any constable in these parts take 
 me !" exclaimed Todd, opening a drawer and taking a pis- 
 tol out of it. **'-Fd put a bullet into him just as soon as 
 I'd put it into a mad dog ! " 
 
 " I think a better way for you to avoid the constable 
 would be for you to escape. There is plenty of time for 
 you to get out of the country before Mr. Byles returns." 
 
 " Yes, you'd like me to go, wouldn't you ? " replied the 
 man, sneeringly ; " well, I don't mean to, and, what's more," 
 he continued, approaching Alana, and looking impudently 
 and defiantly into her face, "I mean yon to give me 
 work." 
 
 " Alec ! " cried Mrs. Todd, coming forward and put- 
 ting herself between her husband and Alana, " don't talk 
 that way to Miss Honeywood. Haven't you had this house 
 rent-free, and didn't she come here to-day to do us a kind- 
 ness ? " 
 
 " Well, now that she's here," exclaimed the man, 
 "she's got to promise me work. As to you," he continued, 
 seizing his wife by the arm and slinging her with all his 
 force, " take that ! " He let go as he spoke. The woman 
 went reeling into a corner of the room, striking violently 
 against a cupboard, and falling senseless on the floor. 
 
 "You brutal fellow!" exclaimed Alana, rising and 
 hurrying to the woman, who was moaning, but was unable
 
 44 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 to get up. "You have hurt your wife yes," as she knelt 
 down on the floor and took the woman's head in her hands, 
 "you have injured her severely. Do you see that blood? 
 Look at what you have done ! " 
 
 The blood was streaming down his wife's face from a 
 long and apparently deep cut in her forehead. The sight, 
 however, so far from calming the man, seemed to enrage him 
 still further. 
 
 "Yes, I see it," he said, rolling up his shirt-sleeves as 
 he spoke, and looking menacingly at Alana, who still knelt 
 on the floor beside the senseless woman. "That's what 
 people get here when they meddle with other people's busi- 
 ness. It's a lesson for you, I guess ; but I am goin' to give 
 you a stronger one. You get out of here, but before you 
 go I'll take what things a rich woman like you are likely 
 to have, and then we'll have a little talk about the place 
 you're goin' to give me in the mines. I'd like to be the 
 superintendent of the Colerain mine, and I guess you'll give 
 it to me, too." 
 
 Alana felt now that she had been imprudent in coming 
 into the presence of such a brute without the protection 
 that Mr. Benham and Mr. Trevor had offered her. She 
 was frightened, but was far from being so terrified as to 
 lose her presence of mind. She rose to her feet as the man 
 approached her, determined to rush by him, and escape 
 through the door, being quite sure that in his drunken 
 state he would be incapable ol following her. Her whole 
 course of action was resolved upon in an instant. 
 
 "Here," she said, approaching the fellow, and holding 
 out her watch to him, " take this. Is there anything else 
 you want?" 
 
 "I'll take the money you have in your pocket, and then 
 I'll take a finger off that pretty hand of yours, for calling 
 me a brute, unless you'll promise on your bended knees to 
 make me superintendent of the Colerain mine."
 
 OS THE SUSQUEHAVXA. 45 
 
 Things were indeed in a desperate state, for she was at 
 the mercy, unless she could manage to dash by him, of a 
 ruffian who would eTidently stop at nothing. Still, she 
 kept her senses about her, and, taking out her pocket-book, 
 handed it to him. " I think there are fifty dollars in it," 
 she said. "Count it" 
 
 "Well, ITl see, and if there ain't, 111 take a finger off 
 the other hand!" 
 
 He stood with his back to the door, between it and Ala- 
 na. It was her intention, as soon as he opened the pocket- 
 book, to make the attempt to reach the door. She had, 
 while talking to him, been examining it so as to get the 
 exact position of the latch, and thus to lose no time in 
 opening it. The pistol, she saw, was on the table at the 
 other end of the room. 
 
 But the man had no sooner finished his speech, had not 
 had time, in fact, to open the pocket-book, when the door 
 was suddenly burst open, and a large and powerfully built 
 man advanced into the apartment. To seize Todd by the 
 collar of the coat with one hand, and to deal him a terrible 
 blow on the side of his head with the closed fist of the other, 
 were acts that did not take ten seconds to accomplish. At 
 the same time he jerked the fellow backward, and he lay a 
 confused mass on the floor, stunned by the combined effects 
 of liquor, the blow, and the falL 
 
 "Mr. Benham!" exclaimed Alana. 
 
 "Yes, Miss Honeywood, I knew what a bad fellow 
 Todd was, and I thought it would do no harm to watch him 
 a little, I missed my way, however, and barely got here in 
 time to be of serrice to you." 
 
 " It was you, then, who hurried so rapidly up the mount- 
 ain road?* 5 
 
 "Yes, I was afraid that, if you saw me, you would not 
 allow me to accompany you, and I knew how necessary 
 protection was to you. I went too far, before coming down
 
 46 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 the mountain, and thus got beyond the house. I hope the 
 fellow has done you no harm." 
 
 "No, he did not touch me ; I was just getting ready to 
 make a dash for the door when you opportunely came in. 
 I am very much obliged to you. I was exceedingly foolish 
 not to take your advice this morning." 
 
 He bent his head in acknowledgment of her thanks. 
 
 " Will you look at his wife ?" continued Alana. " She 
 is severely injured, I am afraid." 
 
 " Good heavens ! I did not see her. Yes, she has an 
 ugly wound in her head, and, from the quantity of blood 
 that is escaping, I fear an artery has been cut. Do you 
 think you can go home now, Miss Honeywood, and send 
 the doctor here ? I will remain and look after the poor 
 woman till he comes." 
 
 While he was speaking he was diligently engaged in 
 binding his handkerchief around Mrs. Todd's head, and 
 thus making an effort to stop the bleeding. It was evident, 
 however, that the attempt was not very successful, for the 
 handkerchief was rapidly becoming saturated with blood. 
 
 Alana did not stop for further speech, but rushed off 
 down the road along the mountain, and then through the 
 lane, past the church, and then through another lane at 
 right angles to the first, till she came to Dr. Arndell's 
 house, at the distance of a couple of hundred yards from 
 the turning. 
 
 Fortunately, the physician was at home. It did not take 
 her long to explain her errand, and in a few minutes he 
 was on his way, with the understanding that he had a case 
 of partial division of one of the temporal arteries to -deal 
 with, complicated perhaps with injury to the brain. Alana 
 had said nothing about her own danger and rescue by Ben- 
 ham. There would be time enough for that hereafter. 
 She went on to her own house, and calling Mrs. Winebren- 
 ner, desired her to send at once for a woman who did what
 
 OF THE SUSQUEHASXJL 47 
 
 nursing the people of the Tillage required, in addition to 
 keeping a cake and candy shop, for the delectation of the 
 youth of the place that possessed the necessary wherewith- 
 al to enable them to avail themselves of her luxuries. On 
 Mrs. Knepfey's arrival, Alana sent her at once to Mrs. 
 Todd's assistance, with instructions to remain with her as 
 long as the doctor thought necessary. 
 
 An hour afterward, while sitting on the broad veranda 
 that went around the house, she saw the constable and an- 
 other man escorting Mr. Todd to the railway-station, doubt- 
 less on their way with him to the county jail at Harrisburg. 
 Seeing her, the officer of the law left the prisoner in charge 
 of his assistant and brought her her watch and pocket-book 
 that she had been forced to deliver to the amiable person 
 now in custody. 
 
 "I found them in his pockets, 9 he said. "Itfs a clear 
 case of robbery, and I guess it will cost him ten years in the 
 penitentiary."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JOHN" BENHAM'S house was a substantial stone cottage 
 that had been built for him soon after Alana had come 
 into possession of the property. Previous to that event he 
 had been alone, and had lived with Mrs. Barton, the pur- 
 veyor of fashion, who, having two second-story rooms that 
 she did not occupy, had been kind enough to rent them 
 with board to the handsome young superintendent. 
 
 Mr. Honeywood was the first to give him employment, 
 and he did so on the recommendation of his old friend 
 Prof. Chalmers, of the Scientific School of the University 
 of Pennsylvania, and his statement that the institution 
 had never turned out a closer approach to the ideal metal- 
 lurgist than was John Benham, nor a truer-hearted gentle- 
 man. Benham's father lived in Harrisburg, and, though 
 not rich, was in comfortable circumstances ; but at about 
 the time Mr. Honeywood died he died also, and then it 
 was found that he had invested all his means in petroleum 
 companies, most of which were more or less fraudulent, 
 and, of course, worthless. Then the necessity had arisen 
 that John should take care of his mother, and then it was 
 that Alana had built for them the pretty little cottage not 
 far from her own^house, and, indeed, standing in the same 
 grounds, though nearer the forge. 
 
 John Benham's claims to being a gentleman were as 
 good as those of Mr. Honeywood, but he was as proud as 
 Lucifer, and had always, as it were, kept his employer at a 
 distance. He had come to the Susquehanna Iron- Works
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANXA. 49 
 
 to fill a subordinate position ; he knew that Mr. Honey- 
 wood was disposed to be haughty and austere with those 
 whom he deemed to be his social inferiors whenever they 
 attempted to treat him as an equal ; he had seen several 
 instances of his manner of acting to such people, and he 
 had heard of others long before he made Mr. Honeywood's 
 acquaintance, and he had at once determined that he 
 would never allow himself to forget the fact that he was in 
 a position that made him socially the inferior, for the time 
 being at least, of the rich employer. He was, in fact, only 
 an upper servant 
 
 It is due to Mr. Honeywood to say that he had never, 
 by word or deed, given any occasion for John Benham to 
 suppose that he would be treated in a supercilious or un- 
 kind manner. When the young man arrived, Mr. Honey- 
 wood invited him to stay with him till he could procure 
 suitable lodgings in the village ; but Benham had already 
 made his arrangements with Mrs. Barton, and went at 
 once tc the rooms that she had prepared for him. " I can 
 do my work better," said Benham to himself, as he walked 
 along the road to Mrs. Barton's, " if there are no familiari- 
 ties. I shall not be in danger then of forgetting my place 
 as his servant, nor he of forgetting his as mv master. 
 When I was in the 250th Pennsylvania Volunteers as a 
 sergeant during the war, it would not have done for me to 
 have messed with my captain, though it was known I was 
 a gentleman and he was a dealer in old clothes. No, I 
 shall be perfectly independent. I shall treat him with the 
 respect due to his position, and he shall act in like manner 
 to me ; but no familiarities on either side.'"* 
 
 A few days after his arrival Mr. Honeywood had in- 
 vited him to tea, and this invitation he thought it would 
 be churlish in him to decline. He laughed, however, as 
 he went to his work on leaving his employer. " Ifs not 
 exactly the same kind of a relation," he said", "afe that that
 
 50 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 existed between Captain Braumiller and Sergeant Ben- 
 ham." At tea he had been presented to Alana, He knew 
 that Mr. Honeywood had a daughter, but he was unpre- 
 pared to see so beautiful and in every way so attractive a 
 woman as was she who sat at the head of her father's table. 
 Here, however, was additional reason for the reserve as re- 
 garded social matters that he had resolved upon adopting. 
 Nevertheless, he recognized the fact that while a guest of 
 Mr. and Miss Honeywood, it was his duty to do all in his 
 power to make himself agreeable, and he had accordingly 
 exerted himself in the direction of trying to cause the 
 evening to pass pleasantly. After he had gone, both Mr. 
 Honeywood and Alana expressed the opinion that rarely 
 had they encountered a more polished and accomplished 
 gentleman. He had shown, by his conversation, that he 
 had been a close observer of men and things, and, as Mr. 
 Honeywood remarked, that he had the stuff in him of 
 which successful men are made. "I shouldn't wonder," 
 he said, with a laugh, "to find John Benham my partner 
 before ten years are over. He'll make a reputation for 
 himself, and will be offered a better position with a higher 
 salary than he gets here, and I shall have found him so in- 
 dispensable that I shall be glad to give him an interest in 
 the works for the sake of keeping him." 
 
 "He's handsome, too, father," said Alana, "and I 
 should think good-tempered." 
 
 " Yes, good-tempered so long as he is not improperly 
 interfered with. It would go badly with a man that 
 should attempt to impose on him. He is fully capable of 
 taking care of himself." 
 
 As to Benham, he had walked to his home at Mrs. Bar- 
 ton's, his mind in a whirl such as he had never before 
 known it to be in. He more than ever recognized the fact 
 that expediency, to say nothing of any other motive, re- 
 quired that his relations with the Honeywoods should be
 
 OX THE SUSQCEHANXA, 51 
 
 marked by the formality usually existing between the em- 
 ployer and the employed. So long as he did not allow 
 himself to regard Alana as within his reach, he could per- 
 mit himself to see her at least from afar off, as a child 
 might look at the moon and admire it, while knowing that 
 he could never get it within his grasp. But if he were to 
 see her often, and on terms of equality, he felt sure that he 
 should lose his heart, and, in that event, there would be 
 danger of his head going also. He knew enough of human 
 nature to be aware of the fact that a man in IOTC is very 
 likely to be unfit for the every-day practical duties of life 
 such as it was incumbent on him to perform, and to which 
 his whole powers should be given. 
 
 Moreover, it would be conceived to be the height of im- 
 propriety for him, occupying as he did a situation of subor- 
 dination, to fall in love with his master's daughter. It 
 would be disloyalty in a high degree. It would be taking 
 advantage of his position to do that which Mr. Honeywood 
 certainly would not like. Even if his love should be re- 
 turned, it would not make him any the more justified ; on 
 the contrary, his conduct would then place him in a still 
 more contemptible position in the minds of all high- 
 minded persons. He knew how the world generally re- 
 gards the successful lover, even if he has descended to the 
 perpetration of acts that if done in any other cause would 
 be regarded as ungentlemanly. He knew that the adage, 
 " All is fair in love," is made to cover lies, treasons, and all 
 other kinds of villainy and shabbiness short of felony, and 
 that even that is sometimes extenuated or pardoned if the 
 offender can only show that love was the real incentive to 
 his crime. He knew all this, but it did not cause him to 
 look at the matter before him with any the more lenient 
 eye. He believed that it would be dishonorable for him to 
 attempt to gain Alana Honeywood's heart, and that was 
 enough.
 
 52 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Perhaps he judged himself too severely and with too 
 narrow a mind. He was not an austere man, neither was 
 he wanting in mental amplitude. But he had been 
 brought up in an old-fashioned school, the representatives 
 of which are fast disappearing from the face of the earth in 
 all civilized countries. Most young men of his time would 
 have thought it a very fine thing for them, if placed in his 
 position, to at once lay their plans, not only for capturing 
 the daughter, but for obtaining a partnership in the busi- 
 ness at the earliest possible moment, the chief object in 
 view being the aggrandizement of number one. Such 
 smartness was not, however, an ingredient of John Ben- 
 ham's character. Of course, he expected advancement ; he 
 looked forward to the time when, if he had proved himself 
 a valuable and faithful servant, he should have a partner- 
 ship offered him, but he intended to get it by doing his duty 
 as the superintendent of the Susquehanna Iron- Works, and 
 not by forcing himself into the owner's family by marry- 
 ing his daughter. Perhaps, when he stood upon the same 
 business plane with Mr. Honeywood but that was too re- 
 mote a contingency to be considered now. So he kept 
 himself aloof, rarely meeting Alana, and when they came 
 into association never "laying himself out," as the some- 
 what slangy but abundantly expressive phrase goes, to make 
 himself especially agreeable. 
 
 Of course, both Alana and her father noticed his man- 
 ner, and the fact that they did not think it particularly 
 out of the way, was perhaps an indication that Benham 
 was not far wrong in the principles that governed him in 
 the matter. Nevertheless they gave him the character of 
 not being what is called a "society man." "I have sev- 
 eral times had occasion to go to his rooms in the evening," 
 said Mr. Honeywood to his daughter, one day when they 
 were discussing the superintendent, "and I have always 
 found him studying some work relating to metallurgy. He
 
 OJT THE SUSQUEHAyXA. 53 
 
 has accumulated quite a good-sized library, and is besides 
 conducting a aeries of experiments relative to smelting ore, 
 by which he expects that a great Baring in fuel and labor 
 will be effected. Depend upon it, my dear, he cares more 
 for his profession than he does for our society." 
 
 "That is Tery evident," said Alana, laughing; "but 
 don't you think he would be more consistent if he avoided 
 aU society ? Mr. Treror and Dr. Arndell and Mr. Wade 
 tell me that he visits them quite frequently, and invites 
 them to his rooms." 
 
 "It must be you, then, my dear," rejoined her father. 
 " You are the formidable obstacle that stands in the way 
 of his coming here. However, I shall not be able to keep 
 him out of his partnership ten years if he goes on as he has 
 begun." 
 
 Then, when Mr. Honeywood died, and Alana was left 
 the sole mistress of the work?, it was still more necessary, 
 so John Benham thought, for him to be circumspect and 
 reserved in his conduct. It was a hard struggle that he 
 had with himself now. He had not lived at the Susque- 
 hanna Iron-Works for three years without, notwithstand- 
 ing his isolation, having seen a good deal of Alana Honey- 
 wood. He had observed her when she had no idea that 
 she was being looked at; he had heard her talk when she 
 did not know that he was within ear-shot; he had thought 
 of her when she did not dream that she ever crossed his 
 mind except when some matter of business was concerned. 
 He loved her with afl his heart Not madly, for, notwith- 
 standing his fears when he had first come into associa- 
 tion with her, he had not lost his head ; and no one in all 
 the world, not even the object of his devotion, imagined 
 that John Benham's heart was big enough to hold his pro- 
 fession and a woman at the same time. 
 
 Outwardly there was no change in his manner, except 
 such as was necessary in order for him to adapt himself to
 
 54: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 the relation of having Alana instead of her father for his 
 superior. For a year she had, as we haye seen, left every- 
 thing to him ; then she had taken the reins, and he had 
 fallen naturally and easily into his old position still, how- 
 ever, as in her father's time, exercising the real power that 
 governed the establishment. 
 
 Then the death of his father had rendered it necessary 
 that his mother should in the future find her home with 
 him, and in order that he might make the requisite arrange- 
 ments he had requested and received permission to be 
 absent for ten days. He thanked Alana for granting him 
 the favor, and was turning away to avail himself at once of 
 his privilege, when she stopped him. 
 
 " Is your mother in Harrisburg ? " she inquired. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to defer your departure till 
 to-morrow ? For I would like to go to Harrisburg to-day 
 to see your mother, to express my sympathy with her in the 
 death of your father, and to ask her to stay with me till the 
 house that I have directed to be built for you is finished." 
 
 " Miss Honey wood ! " 
 
 "Yes, it was my father's intention to build a superin- 
 tendent's house. He often spoke of the matter to me, and 
 even selected the ground for it. I think, too," she added, 
 reflectively, " that he had plans for it drawn, and that they 
 must be somewhere in this room." 
 
 "I scarcely know how to thank you, Miss Honey- 
 wood." 
 
 "No," she answered, smiling, "but you know some- 
 thing better ; you know how to manage iron-works, and to 
 increase their revenue over any previous year. It is only 
 right, therefore, that you should be well housed, especially 
 as you will now have your mother with you." 
 
 "It is very pleasant to me to know that you appreciate 
 my efforts in your service."
 
 ON THE SUSQUZHASXA. 55 
 
 Alana thought for a moment. She liked him, and she 
 wished to be his friend, bnt here he was accepting her 
 gifts as a general might accept a decoration or a sword 
 given him bj his goTernment for distinguished military 
 services. He had done his duty, and her appreciation of 
 the fact and her mode of showing it were gratifying to 
 him. lie was as distant as ever as unapproachable as on 
 the day he had entered her fathers service. She liked 
 strong characters, and certainly she had one to deal with in 
 John Benbam. He had made no specific allusion to her 
 expressed intention of visiting his mother, and of inviting 
 her to be her guest till his house was finished, but from 
 what she knew of him he would have been prompt enough 
 to decline if he had had any objections to make to the ar- 
 rangement. But he had no notion of treating her kind- 
 ness with boorishness. 
 
 " My mother will be glad to see you, I am sure," he 
 said. " Such sympathy as yours will be soothing to her. 
 I can go as well to-morrow as to-day, and, as you say, both 
 of us ought not to be absent at once. It seems to me, 
 however, that she would be incurring a very great obliga- 
 tion were she to accept your hospitalities during the whole 
 time that the new house is being buflt" 
 
 "No, Mr. Benham, the obligation will be the other 
 way, for I am at times very lonesome. This house is so 
 large that I often feel lost in it, with no one to keep me 
 from thinking of the past," 
 
 " She will be gratified by your invitation, but you will 
 not find her a cheerful companion. Her loss is more re- 
 cent than yours, and the memory of it is fresher. But I 
 am sure she will be grateful for your kindness, and anxious 
 to do anything that she may think will please you." 
 
 Alana went to Harrisburg, saw Mrs. Benham, and in- 
 duced her to accept the invitation to her house. For six 
 months she was a member of Alana's household, and dur-
 
 56 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 ing this period the unofficial meetings between the iron- 
 mistress and her superintendent were numbered with the 
 days. Still, he was always the same, always respectful, 
 always polite, always considerate, but never venturing on 
 the slightest familiarity, or advancing an iota beyond the 
 line he had established. Alana wondered at him more and 
 more. Was this man made of stone, that she could make 
 no impression upon him ? Then she resolved to accept the 
 situation, to make no further advance, to treat him with 
 the same formality that he observed toward her, but never- 
 theless to regard him as a man to be trusted in all the de- 
 tails of the business, and as one to be relied upon in any 
 emergency that might arise. Occasionally she visited his 
 mother, at times when she knew he would not be present, 
 and Mrs. Benham, sometimes accompanied by her son, but 
 generally alone, returned the visits. There were mutual 
 respect, kindness, and a deep-seated regard, but attended by 
 all the formality that the greatest stickler for etiquette could 
 have desired. 
 
 I think the majority of my readers will decide that 
 John Benham was somewhat straining principles very good 
 in the abstract, but capable of being perverted to the origi- 
 nation of conduct bordering on the absurd. He was a 
 man with the utmost faith in himself, and yet he appeared 
 to be afraid that, should he venture upon the slightest de- 
 gree of friendly intimacy with Alana, he should be in clan- 
 ger of going further than a due regard for their relative 
 positions would warrant. It should be borne in mind that 
 these relations had changed with the death of her father 
 and the advance of time. She was not a girl in her teens 
 under guardianship ; but a woman twenty-six years of age, 
 her own mistress, possessed of excellent mental capacity, 
 and fully able to judge for herself in all matters that 
 affected her. There was no reason, therefore, why John 
 Benham should not have laid siege to her heart, and have
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 57 
 
 captured it, had she heen willing to surrender. Whether 
 she would, or not, he could doubtless hare ascertained had 
 he allowed himself a little more freedom in his intercourse 
 with her. Still, it must be admitted that the situation 
 was not without its peculiarities. It was a matter about 
 which there would have to be absolute certainty before he 
 could dare to lay bare his heart to her. Rejection would 
 mean, of course, the severance of his business relations with 
 Alana, and his immediate departure from the Susquehanna 
 Iron-Works. The retention by a rejected loyer of an 
 office that he held from the woman who had refused him, 
 would be out of the question. 
 
 And, as a matter of fact, Alana did not love him. She 
 admired him for his supposed possession of certain qualities 
 that stamp their holder as a good man in the largest sense 
 of the word, and she respected him for his independence of 
 character and devotion to his duty. If she thought at all 
 of the matter, she admitted that it would be perfectly safe 
 for her to trust herself with him for all her life. He would 
 look after her interests, protect her, cherish her, love her 
 after a fashion ; but she was a warm-hearted woman, and 
 that would not have been sufficient for her. 
 
 But there was another reason that was still more power- 
 ful in causing Alana to dismiss from her mind as a thing 
 past recall the idea that she could ever marry Benham, or, 
 indeed, any one else, and that was the fact of her disgrace- 
 ful parentage. True, no one, so far as she was aware, 
 knew of the circumstance but herself and Mr. Wade, but 
 that made it none the less humiliating. Indeed, in some 
 respects it was worse than if all the world understood who 
 and what she was ; for she felt that she was as it were a lir- 
 ing lie, a woman passing herself off for what she was not 
 She had heard of rogues being sent to prison for getting 
 money under false pretenses. Were they really worse than 
 she ? Was she not getting a position of respectability in
 
 58 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 the world by false pretenses ? Would Mrs. Priestly allow 
 her daughters to visit her if she knew that her mother had 
 never been married, and that she not only belonged to the 
 very lowest stratum of American society but was in all 
 probability a member of the criminal class ? Well, there 
 might be, she confessed, some doubt as to Mrs. Priestly's 
 course of action. Wealth covers a multitude of blotches, 
 not only on escutcheons but on bodily form and mental 
 characteristics. She could thank God that there was no re- 
 proach against her on either of these latter scores, and 
 doubtless Mrs. Priestly would forgive her the rest, so long 
 as she owned the Susquehanna Iron-Works. 
 
 As to John Benham, to think of him as a possible hus- 
 band would be worse than a folly ; it would be a crime. 
 How could she, as an honest woman, allow an honest man 
 to marry her with the taint that was inherent in her cours- 
 ing with the blood through her veins, and making her un- 
 fit to be the wife of his bosom and the mother of his chil- 
 dren ? No, it was impossible, not only that she should 
 marry him, but, in fact, any other respectable man. 
 
 But John Benham had good, sound common sense, and 
 was apparently free, to a great extent, from the narrow- 
 minded prejudices that so-called practical men generally 
 exhibit. He would think no less of her if her mother were 
 tenfold lower if it were possible in the dregs of hu- 
 manity. He was generous, too, and if she loved him, and 
 he loved her, and she were as in duty bound she should 
 be to tell him all that she knew of herself, he would only 
 cling to her the closer. That she knew. She had studied 
 him enough to comprehend his character better, perhaps, 
 than he himself comprehended it. And then, too, while 
 love does not, like wealth, cover mental and social deformi- 
 ties, it prevents them being seen, by rendering the observer 
 blind, so that the result is just as satisfactory while the 
 love lasts.
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 59 
 
 Yes, so far as he was concerned, if she loTed him, and he 
 loved her, she should have no fear. She felt, however, that 
 she should be disgracing him, no matter what he might 
 think. The world would judge her even more severely 
 than she judged herself, and it would say that she had com- 
 mitted an outrage on an honest man and, and Well, 
 the world would be right 
 
 It may be contended that a woman that could reason, 
 in this way, in regard to a man, associating herself in her 
 mind, with him, in situations implying the existence of love 
 between them, must have had more than a liking, or friend- 
 ship, for that man, even though she might not be fully 
 aware of the state of her heart. I am not sure that it was 
 not so with Alana Honeywood. It may be that she had, 
 for a long time, loved John Benham without knowing the 
 fact. There is such a form of the emotion as latent love, 
 just as there is a form of heat known as latent heat. Like 
 latent heat, latent love is only exhibited under certain cir- 
 cumstances. For the development of the one, there are 
 well-known causes, but for making unconscious love con- 
 scious we have no idea what the excitations may be, till 
 the instant that they arise. Doubtless, there were factors 
 that could at once have made Alana's love sensible to her- 
 self, as well as to its object ; but no one knew what they 
 were, and there were apparently no causes likely to develop 
 them. 
 
 Thus matters stood when the incident at the house in 
 the ravine occurred. Perhaps, that was to be the spark to 
 fire the mine.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE attack made by Todd on Miss Honey wood, and 
 her narrow escape, through, the interposition of John Ben- 
 ham, were the topics of conversation all that day at the 
 Susquehanna Iron-Works. It was well for Mr. Alexander 
 Todd that he was safe on his way to jail, in Harrisburg, ere 
 the fact of his misconduct became generally known among 
 Alana's workmen. As it was, about fifty of them started 
 off for his house, as soon as they heard the news, prepared 
 to take summary vengeance on him, as they declared, by 
 tying him to a tree, and giving him a hundred strokes with 
 a cowhide on his bare back ; but they found only his wife 
 and her nurse, the former lying in bed, and still in an un- 
 conscious state, notwithstanding the vigorous treatment 
 initiated by Dr. Arndell. 
 
 Then they returned to the works, and gathering together 
 all the men that could be spared from their labors, they 
 formed a procession, and marched to Alana's house, mak- 
 ing the air ring with their cheers, and preceded by the Sus- 
 quehanna Iron-Works band, that discoursed very emphatic 
 music, even if it was not the most harmonious. Alana saw 
 them coming, and knew what their object was, so she sent 
 a servant to Mr. Trevor, with a note, requesting him to 
 come at once, and make the speech, in her behalf, that she 
 knew the men would require from some one. 
 
 But, before the messenger reached the reverend gentle- 
 man's house, the procession was at Alana's door, accompa- 
 nied by all the population, men, women, and children, of the
 
 O3T THE SUSQUEHAX3TA. 61 
 
 Tillage, available for the occasion. They formed in a line 
 in front of the house, and, while the band continued to 
 play an inspiriting popular air, Messrs. Michael Maloney, 
 Joseph Witler, and Peter Fink, a committee appointed for 
 the occasion, left the ranks, and, advancing up the terrace, 
 rapped at the door, and, on its being opened, requested 
 that they might have the pleasure of seeing " the mistress," 
 that being the designation given to Alana by the workmen, 
 and, in fact, by most of the inhabitants of the village and 
 the neighboring region. Alana saw that there was no es- 
 cape, and at once sent down a request to the committee 
 to wait in the library, where in a moment she would join 
 them. She was not long in following. 
 
 "We have come, mistress," said Michael Maloney, who 
 had been made spokesman for the occasion, "to tell ye 
 how pleased we are to learn that ye suffered no inconvan- 
 ience from that villain Todd. We felt that we wouldn't 
 be retnrnin' all the kindnesses ye've done to us, and our 
 wms and little ones, if we left this chance to go by with- 
 out offerin* our congratulations to a lady whose workmen 
 we are, and proud we are of the fact May God Almighty 
 bless you, and and "* With this the honest fellow broke 
 down, and, covering his face with his hands, sobbed like a 
 child. 
 
 "You see, mistress," said Witter, while Alana, down 
 whose face the tears were coursing at this manifestation of 
 love from her workmen, tried to give him her attention, 
 "we were shust goin' to make it hot for Mr. Todd. I 
 don't forget how, when mine leetle Gretehen was down 
 mit de fever, you come and stayed mit her a whole night ; 
 me and mine wife don't forget dem dings," and then 
 Wider, like his predecessor, "went to pieces," leaving 
 Fink to finish the address. 
 
 "If the mistress,*' he said, "would come out on the 
 veranda, and let the people see that she was all right it
 
 62 ON THE SDSQUEHANNA. 
 
 would be a great pleasure to them. There isn't a man on 
 the place that wouldn't go to do his best to serve the mis- 
 tress, and, if she'd just show herself, it would please them 
 mightily." 
 
 "Your kindness overwhelms me," said Alana, much 
 moved. "It is worth while going through some danger to 
 find that I am so greatly beloved by you whom I have 
 known and respected for many years, and who have served 
 my father and me so faithfully. Yes, I will go out and 
 see the rest of my friends." 
 
 She led the way, and the committee-men followed. 
 
 As soon as she appeared at the door, a shout was raised 
 that made the mountains echo and re-echo the sound, 
 while the band played with renewed vigor. Silence was at 
 length obtained, and then Alana, in a few words that they 
 all saw came from her heart, thanked them for the interest 
 they took in her welfare. "And," she continued, "there 
 are two things I am about to do for you that may serve to 
 show that I am not unmindful of your faithfulness and 
 uniform kindness to me. First, I have long thought that 
 it was something of a hardship that those of you who be- 
 long to the Roman Catholic Church a majority, I think 
 should be obliged to go to Dauphin to attend services. I 
 had an interview with your bishop at Harrisburg a few 
 days ago, and he has promised that, if I will build the 
 church, he will see that it is supplied with a pastor. To- 
 morrow the ground will be broken, and before long I hope 
 you will have your own building within easy access to you 
 winter and summer. I shall ask Mr. Benham to confer 
 with you immediately relative to the best situation for the 
 edifice. 
 
 " Then I have thought that you ought to have some 
 place at which you could spend your leisure hours you, 
 and your wives and children and, at the same time, read 
 the newspapers and entertaining and instructive books. I
 
 03T THE SCSQUEHJLSXA. 03 
 
 therefore, to erect a building in which time 
 wOl be a library and a baD, at which concerts and lectures 
 can be given and meetings held. This wffl be open every 
 day till ten o'clock at night, and I hope to have it in 
 operation in three months from this tiae. 
 
 "It is only right, my friends, that I should tell yon 
 that it would probably have gone hard with me if Mr. 
 Benham, our superintendent, had not arrived just in time 
 to interpose his strength against that of my assailant. 
 Again I thank you.~ 
 
 This short address was frequently interrupted by vocif- 
 and, at its end, with "Three cheers for the 
 ; !" The assemblage then, by common consent, re- 
 paired to Benhanf s cottage, where they gave the superin- 
 the Harrisburg papers of the foDowing day 
 the first baring been the 
 
 White they were still filing away from the door, Mr. 
 Treror made his appearance, very much out of breath , for 
 he had run nearly all the distance from his home to 
 Alana's. She had just re-entered the door, when the 
 reverend gentleman dashed up the step* 
 
 "My dear Miss Honeywood!" he exc&umed, "what's 
 all this I hear ? Surely, it is not trae that that scoundrel 
 insulted yon ! And how kind of the men and the women, 
 and the children too, to turn out in force to congratulate 
 you! I'm sorry I could not get here in time to spare you the 
 trouble of mating them a speech, though doubtless yon were 
 
 "I don't know," said Alan*, smiling; "I said what 
 came into my mind. I believe I did get through better 
 than I expected." 
 
 " Ah ! you ought to bate allowed me to go with yo* to 
 Todd's house, and to have remained to protect you." 
 
 "Mr. Benham was there."
 
 64: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Mr. Benham ! I did not know that he was to be 
 with you. If I had, I should have felt easier in regard to 
 your safety." 
 
 "I did not know it either." 
 
 "Then it was by accident," said Mr. Trevor, with an 
 air of relief. " It was fortunate, then, that he arrived just 
 in time." 
 
 "No, it was not by accident. I told him I was going ; 
 he said it was not safe for me to go without an escort, but 
 I thought differently, as I did when you kindly offered 
 your services. Still, so strongly was he impressed with a 
 sense of the danger I ran, that he followed me, and, taking 
 the mountain-path so that I should not know of his move- 
 ments, arrived at the house just in time to save me from 
 injury ; but unfortunately, as he missed his way, not soon 
 enough to prevent the brute inflicting a serious wound on 
 his poor wife, by which she was rendered senseless." 
 
 "Yes, he knew the fellow better than I did. I hope 
 you were not greatly frightened ? " 
 
 "I was frightened, but I tried to prevent losing my 
 presence of mind. I think I might have got away even if 
 Mr. Benham had not come in time ; but if I had failed, 
 the man would certainly have cut off one of my fingers as 
 he threatened." 
 
 " Good heavens ! You don't mean to tell me that he 
 went so far as that ? " 
 
 "Yes; but I must beg that you will now dismiss me 
 from further consideration. I am greatly worried on ac- 
 count of his poor wife ; she is grievously injured, I fear. 
 Dr. Arndell arrived as soon as possible, but I am sure he is 
 alarmed for her life." 
 
 " Did you go after the doctor ? " 
 
 " Yes ; there was no one else to go, for Mr. Benham 
 was obliged to stay with Mrs. Todd, to prevent her bleed- 
 ing to death from the wound in her head."
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHASlf A. 65 
 
 "My dear Miss Honeywood, I shall never forgive my- 
 self for leaving yon alone in the mine. I ought to hare 
 insisted on going with yon." 
 
 * 'But yon Till recollect," answered Alana, laughing, 
 "that I sent yon away. 
 
 " Yea, but I onght to hare gone, for all that. Xow I 
 shall make amends by going at once to see how Mrs. Todd 
 is doing, and 111 come in this evening and report I can 
 never" he continued, holding out his hand to Alana "be 
 sufficiently thankful to God for having saved yon from 
 harm." He turned away much- moved, and Alana went on 
 her way into the house. 
 
 "If s an very well for him to thank God," exclaimed 
 MISL Winebrenner, who had been present during the con- 
 versation, but had had no opportunity of getting in a word, 
 "but he might have been a hide more thankful to Mr. 
 Benham. He go with yon ! I'd like to know what good 
 ltd be in a mess with a fellow like Todd ! Now no one, I 
 guess, reverences the clergy more than I do. My father 
 was the pastor for forty-two years of the Lutheran church 
 in Hnmmelstown, and I was, from a baby, in the society 
 of the members of the synod ; but there wasn't one of them 
 that would have been worth a cent in a row, and they were 
 all bigger men, too, than Mr. Trevor. He'd better stick 
 to his church, I think, and let such men as Mr. Benham 
 do an the fighting that may be necessary." 
 
 "I think I've read of ' fighting parsons,'" said Alana, 
 with a smite. " Perhaps Mr. Trevor comes under that head. 
 He wffl probably stay to tern ; so have the table prepared, 
 
 '* Stay to tea ! I think yon give him too much encour- 
 agement." 
 
 " Encouragement ! What do yon mean ? " 
 " You know, Miss Alana, I've lived in this house nearly 
 fifteen years, and I feel more like a mother to yon than a
 
 66 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 housekeeper, though I don't think I've forgotten my place 
 often. You'll not be angry with me if I speak my mind 
 freely, especially when I do it for your good." 
 
 "You've always been very kind to me, and I have a 
 great affection for you. As you say, you have stood in the 
 place of a mother to me, when there was no one else to do 
 so. I don't think I could be angry with you for anything 
 you might say to me in kindness." 
 
 " Then I'll speak out, if I never say another word. It's 
 very clear that Mr. Trevor is in love with you." 
 
 " Stop, please ! " exclaimed Alana ; " I don't think it's 
 at all clear. He has never said a word to me that would 
 lead to that inference. It is scarcely worth while, there- 
 fore, for you to say anything more on an assumption that 
 has no foundation." 
 
 " Ah ! my dear you mustn't mind my calling you * my 
 dear' I've known you since you were a mere child " 
 
 "You may call me your 'dear,' of course," interrupted 
 Alana. " I hope you will always love me." 
 
 " I'm sure I shall. Well, as I was going to say, I'm a 
 better judge than you are, for I've seen his looks and ob- 
 served his manner, and there can be no doubt that he is 
 deeply in love. He will speak before long, depend upon 
 it." 
 
 " I think you are mistaken, for there has been absolute- 
 ly nothing that I have observed. Of course, Mr. Trevor 
 comes here often, for there are many things that we have 
 to talk about. Oh, yes, I am sure you are wrong ! " 
 
 " No," persisted Mrs. Winebrenner, " I am not mis- 
 taken ; I know men too well not to understand the meaning 
 of looks and conduct, even though not a word be spoken. 
 He will speak soon perhaps this very night. He would 
 have done so to-day if I had not been present. Now, my 
 dear, there are two very powerful reasons why you should 
 not marry him."
 
 OS THE SCSQOHJkXSA. 
 
 Had Mrs. Wh 
 
 mminted with her secret ? That was almost 
 for no one at the works, except Mr. Wade, ID far as 
 
 ed with the story of her 
 if Mis. Winehrenner had heard amj nu 
 she woald not hare giiat CApteaftkm to 
 away. She smiled, therefore, at the old honse- 
 
 Tefl me the ttmom* she said; "one M generally 
 rfarimt far the rejection of a mmiafyi propoaaL I shall 
 he donby armed.- 
 
 ** Yea, my reasons are two; one concerns yoo, the other 
 him. In the fint place, clergymen don't, make good hs- 
 handsfDrrichwomen. I haw watched them pretty dreery, 
 
 andthejanielax in their bbon m mam m they 
 
 knowtolitaaof hwinri matfan, that they are not fit to 
 tatetliechar^ash.sham^ahonUafihcirwiYermtere^. 
 If Mr. Treror had die 1^1 mi nl of the work^ thej 
 gotornmmaicar. If inm woe in lore with him, 
 
 to giie up jamr wealth, and go to the paraonagc as a 
 man^B wife ldT r and not bring him here to spoil every- 
 thing: That's one reamrn,' 
 
 "Xow, 9 aid Alana. laughing heartOj, '-what k the 
 other reanm wh j I dionld not marrj Mr. Tieror? Ton 
 
 wi- II liai I ^ll kirn T\lnill T 
 
 it cimBTUBQ. nid. xcuunv A 
 
 pnmitiTe drareh, and I am
 
 GS OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 whom the apostles gave their succession should never 
 marry." 
 
 " You are hard on them," rejoined Alana, still laughing, 
 but not in a way to offend the old lady. " First you deny 
 them rich wives, and next you would prevent them marry- 
 ing at all." 
 
 " Yes, that is it. If Mr. Trevor were married, his use- 
 fulness in this parish would he destroyed ; if he were mar- 
 ried to you, he would not only be injured as a priest of the 
 church, but the Susquehanna Iron- Works would in a year's 
 time be deserted." 
 
 "Well, my dear friend," said Alana, seriously, "keep 
 your soul in patience. I shall never marry Mr. Trevor or 
 any other man. I am cut out for an old maid." 
 
 "You are not quite twenty-seven. You ought to 
 marry soon ; you would make a good wife to a good man." 
 
 "There is Mr. Wade. He's a good man," replied 
 Alana, feeling inclined to humor the old lady and to elicit 
 her views. 
 
 "He's too old and too coarse." 
 
 " Too coarse ! " 
 
 "Yes. I met him the other day on the road, and he 
 stopped me. * Hot day, Mrs. Winebrenner,' said he. 
 4 Yes,' I answered, 'it's a warm day.' 'I never perspired 
 so much in all my life,' said he. 'I'm parboiled ; cooked 
 in my own juice like a scalloped oyster.' I think that was 
 very coarse." 
 
 " It wasn't very refined, I admit, but then I'd polish 
 him." 
 
 "You'd never polish William Wade. His ways are 
 burned into him and are part of him, as much as his ridicu- 
 lous notion of living in a round tower. He'd never leave 
 his tower, and you would not consent to go there." 
 
 "I am afraid the tower would be an insuperable ob- 
 stacle. But, then, there is Dr. Arndell."
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXNJL 69 
 
 "Dr. Arndell ! An infidel, a deist, an atheist, a scof- 
 fer, a man who never puts his foot inside of a church ! 
 You could not unite yourself with a man like that ! * 
 
 " If I intended to marry at all, I don't see why I should 
 not marry Dr. ArndelL He's a gentleman, is well edu- 
 cated, refined, kind to the poor. He likes me, too, and 
 and " she added, mischievously, "I like him." 
 
 "Yes, he likes you. He loves you as much as Mr. 
 Trevor does. Fve watched him, too ; but, my dear, you'd 
 never throw yourself away on a man of no principles like 
 Dr. ArndelL Oh, if I thought you'd do such a thing, I 
 should be very unhappy." 
 
 " But I will not admit that Dr. Arndell is a man with- 
 out principles. He is a generous, kind-hearted, liberal- 
 minded gentleman, and I say again that if I had any inten- 
 tion of marrying. I might now mind, I only say * might ' 
 if he were to ask me, take him with a 'Thank you, sir.' 
 But he is not 'keeping company 'as they say about here 
 with me." 
 
 Mrs. Winebrenner looked at the girl for a moment, and 
 then, bending forward, laid both hands on her head. 
 " What makes you so light-hearted to-day ? I don't think 
 I have ever seen you in a merrier mood. Yon look as if a 
 ray of sunshine had rested on your face and was never 
 going away." 
 
 " Do I look happy ? Well, I am happy. Is it not a 
 great thing to be rescued as I was so bravely and disinter- 
 estedly ? Is it not another great thing to be the recipient 
 of such affection as every one has been showing me ? 
 When I think of it all, I feel glad, and I suppose it shows in 
 my face." 
 
 ' Mr. Benham is a brave man and a stanch friend. He 
 knows something of women, too. He did not stop to 
 controvert your assertion that there was no danger in your 
 going to Todd's house. He knew there was danger, and
 
 70 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 he had the courage of his opinion, which is more than Mr. 
 Trevor had, and more than Dr. Arndell would have had 
 if the chance had been offered to him as it was to the 
 others." 
 
 " Come, now, you don't know what Dr. Arndell would 
 have done, and you are therefore scarcely just to him. lie 
 also has courage and determination, and he, probably as 
 that seems to be a point of importance knows more about 
 women than both of them put together." 
 
 "Your mind seems to be set in favor of Dr. Arndell. 
 Now, I don't believe you half thanked Mr. Benham for 
 what he did for you." 
 
 " I thanked him very little. He is not a man that one 
 can thank much. He looks as though he would not 
 like it." 
 
 "It might be well to ask him here to tea this even- 
 ing." 
 
 "No, but I think I shall ask Dr. Arndell. I am anxious 
 to hear from his own lips how Mrs. Todd is doing. Won't 
 you please send Moses to him with a note I am going to 
 write ? " 
 
 She sat down at a table and in a minute or two wrote 
 a note which she handed to Mrs. Winebrenner, and the lat- 
 ter, with a half-stifled sigh, left the room. 
 
 Alana, as soon as she was alone, covered her face with 
 her hands, and resting her head on the table before her, 
 sobbed with the violence of the emotion, whatever it was, 
 that overwhelmed her. 
 
 " Oh," she moaned, " I think I am the most miserable 
 woman that ever lived ! I can not endure this lie much 
 longer. I have acted it till my heart is almost broken. 
 The strain is more than I can bear ; and yet I thought 
 down to this day that I should be able to live through it 
 11 ow I know it is impossible." 
 
 She spoke the last words in a low whisper, and, rising
 
 OS THE SCSQUEHASTS^ 71 
 
 from the dnir,oegan to walk up aid down the floor. Her 
 face was as pale as a sheet, and she looked as though she 
 could hardly stand, much less walk. She took but a few 
 steps, and then, supporting herself against the window- 
 frame, looked oat over the lawn and beyond to the wades, 
 where the taB chimneys were giving oat great Tolnmes of 
 nd fire, while' the hum of the blast reached her 
 
 " It is mine, 9 she said, wearily, "bat, oh, bow readily 
 I would give it all for the knowledge that my mother was 
 an honorable and good woman ! I hare not eren the right 
 to the name that came with it," she continued, bitterly 
 'a name that I hare borne fairly all my fife, and that Mke 
 an impostor with an alias I continue to keep. So did my 
 mother before me, She had several names. Icome hon- 
 estly by the tendency to falsehood, at any rate. It is the 
 one thing that I can not lose. To act a lie is worse than 
 to speak one. 
 
 "How bravely be acted !" she said, more calmly, after 
 she bad lain down on a sofa that stood against the wall on 
 one side of the window, and tried, though unsuccessfully, 
 to compose herself to sleep. "Bravely bat coldly.. From 
 a sense of duty only. The doty of any man to any woman; 
 of any superintendent of iron-works to any woman that 
 owns them and employs him. My God ! if be would only 
 do something for me that was not prompted by duty!" 
 She sat op on the sofa and poshed back the hair from her 
 face. " Yes, I wouM go on then, I think, and act my be 
 to the end ; for, God help me, I love him I love him I" 
 
 She threw herself on the sofa as she spoke, and, burying 
 her face in its velvet <AMI J abandoned herself without 
 restraint to the storm of emotion that she was helpless to 
 resist, and that carried her whither it would. Yes,she 
 loved him she knew it now; and with the consciousness 
 came the recollection of the social degradation that she fett
 
 72 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 was attached to her, and that in her estimation would stand 
 as an adamantine barrier against her ever being the wife of 
 an honorable man. 
 
 That was the way in which her thoughts ran. First, 
 determining that if John Benham loved her she would keep 
 her secret to herself, and be his wife if all the world stood 
 in the way, so only that he asked her; then, becoming 
 horrified at the idea of deceiving the man that trusted her, 
 she would break out into self-reproaches, and declare that 
 nothing should induce her to link her dishonored name 
 with his. 
 
 She was still in the midst of her passion of tears when 
 the door opened and Mrs. "Winebrenner entered the room. 
 
 " Moses has just returned," she began, before she had the 
 opportunity in the rather dark room of seeing where Alana 
 was. Then looking around, she saw her lying with her 
 face pressed against the sofa, and exhibiting a degree of agi- 
 tation that more strikingly than words showed how deeply 
 the girl was moved. 
 
 Mrs. Winebrenner saw that Alana had not yet noticed 
 her presence. At first she thought she would endeavor to 
 ascertain the cause of the grief that was evidently rending 
 the heart of her young mistress. The old lady prided her- 
 self on the sympathetic qualities that she believed she pos- 
 sessed, and was always on the alert to soothe a troubled 
 spirit with kind words and actions. The idea struck her 
 that Alana's outburst of sorrow was probably due to recol- 
 lections evoked by the fact that to-morrow was the anni- 
 versary of her father's death ; but a little reflection sufficed 
 to convince her that even the remembrance of that sad 
 event would not produce such a whirlwind of passion as 
 that which convulsed the agonized woman on the sofa. No, 
 there was something more acute than the death that had 
 taken place two years ago. 
 
 She stood for a moment undecided ; then she turned
 
 03T THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 73 
 
 and ray gently retreated from the room, with Dr. Arndefl's 
 note undelivered, and with Alana still sobbing on the sofa 
 as though her heart were broken. 
 
 Probably she cried herself to sleep, and thus counter- 
 acted the effects that such a degree of emotional disturb- 
 ance as she had experienced would otherwise hare inevita- 
 bly produced. At any rate, at seven o'clock she was wait- 
 ing in the drawing-room to receive her two guests, and not 
 exhibiting, except, perhaps, to a critical eye such as was 
 Dr. ArndelFs, any traces of the conflict that had raged with- 
 in her.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "I DO not want to appear illiberal," said Mr. Trevor, 
 as he stirred the cream and sugar in his second cup of tea ; 
 "but it seems to me that you have not acted with your 
 usual prudence in establishing a Roman Catholic church 
 in the village. Do you think there is a Roman Catholic in 
 alt the world, situated as you are, that would build a Prot- 
 estant Church?" 
 
 " I do not know whether there is or not," replied Alana, 
 with a little tinge of vigor in her tone. "I did not stop to 
 consider what others would do. I thought it right that the 
 people who work for me faithfully, and many of whom are 
 Catholics, should not be obliged to walk nearly four miles 
 through the heat and dust of summer, and the cold and 
 snow of winter, in order to worship God according to their 
 consciences ; and so I am going to build the church." 
 
 "Trevor is afraid that the priest will draw off some 
 of his congregation," broke in Dr. Arndell, with a laugh. 
 "He knows the bishop will send one of his strongest men 
 to take charge of the church, and he is trembling for the 
 consequences." 
 
 "If by building a Roman Catholic church, or any other 
 church, Miss Honeywood should succeed in getting you 
 inside of a building devoted to the worship of God, it would 
 almost of itself justify the undertaking." The clergyman 
 spoke in an irritated tone, and stirred his tea with renewed 
 energy. 
 
 " If you could pound me in a mortar, now, as energeti-
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 75 
 
 cally as von are pounding the sugar in your tea," exclaimed 
 the doctor, still laughing, "what an intense satisfaction it 
 would be to yon ! As to Miss Honeywood, and my salva- 
 tion, I doubt if her interest in me extends as far as that 
 point." 
 
 "Xo, but don't you wish it did ? " was on Mr. Trevors 
 lips, but he stopped the impulse before the words were pro- 
 nounced, and made some commonplace observation about 
 " doctors and atheists," that made the physician smile, but 
 that elicited no remark in reply. 
 
 "At any rate, Arndell," resumed the clergyman, seeing 
 that the doctor evinced no desire to get into a theological 
 argument with him, " however poor a Christian you may be, 
 you're a good physician. I suppose you told Miss Honey- 
 wood about poor Mrs. Todd before my arrival. Won't 
 you be kind enough to give me your conclusion as to the 
 probable result of her injuries ? w 
 
 "Yes, I had just finished telling Miss Honeywood when 
 you came in. Mrs. Todd is in a critical condition ; I think 
 she has a fracture of the base of the skull, and, if so, she 
 wfll probably die. I am not sure yet ; to-morrow will set- 
 tle the matter past doubt She must have struck the 
 vertex of the skull when she fell against the bureau." 
 
 " What a wonderful profession yours is, Arndell ! How 
 are you able to say, when there "are no external marks, and 
 no means of seeing, or even of feeling the base of the 
 skull, that it is fractured ?" 
 
 "Oh," exclaimed the doctor, laughing, "I can't give 
 you a lecture on the symptomatology of fractures of the 
 base of the skulL It wfll be sufficient if I say that the 
 bleeding from the ears indicates such an injury." 
 
 "If she should die, it wfll go hard with Todd, I should 
 think/'' remarked Alana, 
 
 " Yes, but they can't hang him for it, I fear, for it 
 would scarcdy be murder in the first degree. He did not
 
 76 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 intend to kill her. You will be the chief witness for tho 
 Commonwealth. " 
 
 "I suppose so. It will be very unpleasant to me, for, 
 though the man deserves to be punished, I don't wish to 
 be the means of bringing him to punishment." 
 
 " He'll have to bo tried, too, for robbery, and for assault 
 and battery on you. That will give him ten or more years 
 in the penitentiary." 
 
 " Oh, I hope those charges will not be pressed ! " cried 
 Alana ; "let them go. He did me no harm." 
 
 "You are too lenient," said Mr. Trevor. "It is just 
 as necessary for the safety of society that Todd should be 
 punished for his attack on you, as for what he did to his 
 wife. In fact, more so, for he intended to do you a brutal 
 personal injury, whereas it is pretty certain that he only 
 meant to thrust his wife out of the way." 
 
 "I never knew a clergyman that was not in favor of 
 the full measure of the law being meted out to all of- 
 fenders," said the doctor, returning to the attack on his 
 clerical friend, but from another standpoint. "Doesn't it 
 strike you that it might be some gratification to Miss 
 Honeywood to forgive this man, and that her wishes are 
 entitled to some consideration ? " 
 
 "My friend, I am sorry to say," spoke the clergyman, 
 eagerly, for he at once perceived that he had caught the 
 doctor in a weak spot, "that you have no clear idea of 
 what you are talking about. Miss Honeywood's disposi- 
 tion to forgiveness is a faculty that I should be the last to 
 attempt to curb. It is her duty to exercise it, and she 
 does so with all the graciousness inherent in her ; but she 
 will, I know," as he looked at Alana, and bowed, "excuse 
 me if I remind her of what doubtless she knows as well as 
 I do, that she has nothing to do with the law but to obey 
 it, and, as a good citizen, aid in its enforcement. If called 
 upon, she will testify, of course."
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 77 
 
 "By the by," said the doctor, wisely changing the con- 
 versation, "I understand, since Todd's arrest, that all the 
 striking brick-layers have announced their intention of go- 
 ing to work to-morrow morning.** 
 
 "Ah! then we shall have the new furnace ready for 
 use sooner than I expected this morning, from what Mr. 
 Benham told me," said Alana. " And that reminds me," 
 she continued, " that I shall be very glad if you two gentle- 
 men, in conjunction with Mr. Benham, and Mr. Wade, and 
 myself if you don't object to having a woman in your 
 company would act as managers of the lyceum that is 
 soon to be put in operation." 
 
 " Nothing would give me greater pleasure," said each 
 of them in a breath. 
 
 "I shall be glad, too, if you would each, at your earliest 
 convenience, give me a list of the books that ought to be 
 purchased at the start. Doubtless you will, in many in- 
 stances, name the same works, and it will be my task to go 
 over all the separate lists and strike out the duplicates." 
 
 " You won't have much to do so far as Mr. Trevor and 
 I are concerned," observed the doctor, in a matter-of-fact 
 tone of voice, "for it is not at all probable that there will 
 be any concurrence in our selections. He wouldn't be 
 likely to name a single book that I've named, and I'm 
 quite sure I shall not have a book on my list that will be 
 found on his." 
 
 "So much the less trouble for me, then," said Alana, 
 smiling, "and so much the greater variety of works for 
 the library." 
 
 " I shall doubt the expediency of placing in the hands 
 of simple, ignorant people, like ours here, such books as 
 Dr. Arndell would be likely to select." Mr. Trevor made 
 this observation with his eyes cast down, and as .though he 
 were only for his own satisfaction expressing a thought 
 that was too strongly felt to lie dormant in his mind.
 
 78 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " Do you think I'm a fool ? " exclaimed the doctor, 
 angrily. " Do you suppose that I would attempt to cram 
 these sucking babes in knowledge with food fit only for 
 trained minds ? Yet that is what you'll do, if Miss Honey- 
 wood permits you. You'll have Paley's * Natural The- 
 ology,' and Butler's 'Analogy of Keligion,' and Leslie's 
 * Short and Easy Method with a Deist,' and such like 
 trash." 
 
 "There shall be no theological books of any kind," 
 said Alana, with decision ; " and, above all, no anti- 
 theological books. History, biography, travels, popular 
 science, books of reference, and a few good novels, will do 
 very well to start with. Ah, Mr. Wade," she continued, 
 as that gentleman entered the room, as he was in the habit 
 of doing, without ceremony, "I am glad you are here ; I 
 did not invite you to tea, for, the last three times I have 
 asked you, you gave some indifferent excuse for not coming, 
 so I resolved that the next time you should come of your 
 own accord. I see my plan works well." 
 
 "It would be no slight matter that would prevent me 
 accepting your invitation. Lawyers, like doctors, can't 
 call their time their own. How often have you asked Dr. 
 Arndell without getting him ? " 
 
 "Never once," said the doctor, answering for her 
 "never once. I'd let every patient I have die of neglect 
 before I'd refuse an invitation from Miss Honey wood." 
 
 " The hypocritical fellow ! " said Mr. Trevor, to him- 
 self. " He thinks that speech will please her. She's not 
 the kind of a woman to like that sort of thing. I never 
 saw a man with less knowledge of human nature than Arn- 
 dell." 
 
 "Then I should be very sorry," said Alana; "and I 
 don't think you would do so, either. You have never 
 neglected your patients." 
 
 "You are perfectly right," rejoined Mr. Trevor. "If
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 7;* 
 
 Dr. AmdeD has an j good point in his character and I am 
 free to admit that he has several that of being a com- 
 petent and faithful physician is the one." 
 
 "And that atones for a multitude of deficiencies if be 
 has any." 
 
 The doctor looked his thanks and bowed, but made no 
 ma. He had never before had so decided a compli- 
 ment from Alana, and it pleased him beyond measure. 
 
 In accordance with Alana's request, Mr. Wade, after 
 congratulating her on her escape, seated himself at tbe 
 table, and the conversation again turned on the events of 
 the day. Then the party adjourned to the drawing-room, 
 and the two younger gentlemen, thinking it likely that 
 Mr. Wade had come on business, soon afterward took their 
 departure. 
 
 Xo sooner had the door closed on them, than Mr. Wade 
 began to state the object of his visit. 
 
 "I was in Harrisburg to-day," he said, "and it was 
 there that I first heard of die danger you had been in. I 
 heard of it from the perpetrator of the outrage, Todd him- 
 self. " 
 
 "Todd! Have yon seen him?" 
 
 "Yes, by some means or other the scoundrel heard 
 that I was in the city, and sent for me to come to see him 
 in the jail, alleging that he desired to retain me as his 
 counsel.* 
 
 "Is it possible he could be so presumptuous? He 
 knows, of course, that you are my counsel. " 
 
 "He declares that he did not intend to do you the 
 slightest harm. He says he only wanted to let you see 
 that yon were powerless, in order tint he might make sure 
 that yon would listen to him." 
 
 "I have not told any one yet, but I must tell you, that 
 I am sure that I have seen the man before. I did not at 
 first recognize him, but once his face was tamed to the
 
 80 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 window and the full light of the sun fell upon it, and then 
 I knew that I had seen it before, and I am sure, too, that 
 the circumstances of the occasion were unpleasant. I can 
 not recall time or place, but of the fact I have no doubt. 
 Perhaps the matter will be made clear to me before 
 long." 
 
 " Yes, it will come to you as other events do to all of 
 us, in some mysterious way, when you least expect it. But 
 in regard to my being counsel for Todd I told him, of 
 course, that if I had anything at all to do with the case as a 
 lawyer, it would be by trying my utmost to have him 
 receive all the punishment that the law allows." 
 
 " He wanted me to promise to give him employment, 
 but after his conduct, and the record of him that Mr. Ben- 
 ham gave me, I refused. It was then that he threatened 
 me. I don't know what makes me think so, but I believe 
 he had some ulterior object in view that he had not dis- 
 closed when he was interrupted in his proceedings." 
 
 " Do you think so ? That's very strange ! " 
 
 "Why is it strange?" 
 
 " Because the same idea occurred to me while we were 
 talking together in the jail. It seemed to me as though he 
 had an idea that he had it in his power to compel me to 
 act as his counsel." 
 
 " Can it be possible that he knows anything of" 
 
 "No, no, that is out of the question. If he had had 
 any knowledge on that subject, he would have revealed the 
 fact long ago, or have used it to his advantage before this. 
 No, my dear, I think you may make up your mind that 
 your mother and all connected with her are dead." 
 
 Alana was silent ; she had so often discussed with Mr. 
 Wade all the points connected with her mother's disappear- 
 ance, that there was nothing now to say about the matter. 
 Her hopes and her fears had long since faded out of her 
 mind. It was her own position that troubled her now, and
 
 Olf THE SUSQUEHANX A. 81 
 
 that time could not reconcile her to enduing without 
 r ? rr : : . 
 
 " I hare never told you," resumed XT. Wade, "that some 
 time ago I started off on an independent search of my own 
 to find your mother, or at least some trace of her. I went 
 to Philadelphia, and began at the university, where your 
 father was a student I found the place where he boarded, 
 and ascertained that the house was at that time kept by a 
 Mrs. Muffin. I also learned that she had a son who was 
 killed by a policeman in the early part of November, 1864, 
 bat I could not ascertain that there was a daughter. By 
 the by. can you recollect when it was that the man of 
 whom you spoke to me once came to see your father ? I 
 mean the man that pointed to you, and said something 
 about 'thai girl's mother,* and whom yonr father put out 
 of the house." 
 
 "Yes, I recollect the circumstance well, for it made a 
 lasting impression on me. It must hare been fifteen years 
 ago at least That would make it in 1868. It was in the 
 summer, I know, for the windows were open, and the man 
 went out of one of them, almost thrown out by my father. 
 That same night an attempt was made to rob the office. 
 The safe was blown open, and " 
 
 "That was in 1868. You are right I recollect the 
 of the attempted robbery. But how do you 
 the two events ?" 
 
 "By the fact that father declared that the man whom 
 he had put ont of the house was the burglar. 
 
 "Good! that comes very straight Xow, my dear, if 
 your mother's brother was killed in 1864* and of that there 
 appears to be no doubt, it is TCTJ clear that he was not the 
 man that came here, as your father asserted, with your 
 mother in 1868, and that you saw in this very room." 
 
 "Yes, in this rery room. My God ! " she continued, 
 starting to her feet wi\h fear and astonishment depicted on
 
 82 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 her countenance, ' ' Todd is the man ! I know it. He stood 
 just in front of you, there, and father sat here, and at 
 something the man said, father sprang at him and struck 
 him a violent blow in the face, and then forced him out of 
 the house through that window. At last, then, a clew has 
 been reached." 
 
 " A clew to the identity of Todd as the man that came 
 here with a woman, whom your father did not see, and 
 who the man appears to have said was your mother ; but 
 I do not see that we have any indication as to the fate 
 or whereabout of your mother. Clearly Todd is not her 
 brother, for the latter had then been dead nearly four 
 years ; and yet your father, as I think you told me, de- 
 clared on his death-bed that the man was your mother's 
 brother." 
 
 "Yes, he certainly said that." 
 
 " Then it appears to me that we have a greater mystery 
 than ever. My information is very exact on the point 
 that there was but one son. Now, that son died in 1864, 
 and your father told you that it was he that came here in 
 1868." 
 
 " He told me that the man was my mother's brother. 
 There might have been two sons ; you did not find out 
 that there was a daughter, but of course there must have 
 been one. Your information, therefore, about the sons 
 may not be correct." 
 
 "Yes," replied Mr. Wade, musingly, "there must have 
 been a daughter, and there may after all have been another 
 son. But if Todd is one of them, why has he not come 
 forward and declared himself ? He would, of course, know 
 that he is your uncle " Alana shuddered as Mr. "Wade 
 made the remark "and that you would feel in duty 
 bound to provide for him." 
 
 "It's all very mysterious." 
 
 " Yes, that's what I say ; very mysterious and contra-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXSA. 83 
 
 dictory. If Todd is your mother's brother, he must, of 
 course, be aware of the fact that she received, till your 
 father's death, three thousand dollars a year, and he would 
 certainly, from what I know of him, have found means 
 even if your mother died when your father died to have 
 had the allowance continued to himself. He would have 
 known that he was the possessor of a valuable secret, and 
 he would have endeavored to make it of use to him." 
 
 " He could not have done that. I should have told the 
 story to the whole world if he had threatened me." 
 
 "Yes, you are not one to submit to black-mail, even 
 from an uncle. But," he continued, rising as though pre- 
 paratory to taking his leave, "if Todd is not your uncle, 
 who is he ? What was he doing in this room fifteen years 
 ago ? "What did he mean by the words he addressed to 
 your father ? Who was the woman that remained at the 
 tavern ? For if Todd is not your mother's brother, the 
 woman could not have been your mother, provided of 
 course that your mother was Miss Mullin ; and yet your 
 father said that she was your mother. I am all mixed up. 
 I don't understand what I have just said. I shall have to 
 go home and think it all over after a night's rest. In the 
 mean time, my dear, don't disturb yourself about Todd. If 
 he knew anything that he thought might be regarded as 
 distasteful or injurious to you, depend upon it he would 
 have brought his information to market long ago. That 
 ruffian your uncle ! It's out of the question. You, one 
 of the noblest and best of women, as well as one of the 
 most beautiful, to be the niece of a beast like that, a mere 
 dog coming from the scum of the earth ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Alana, covering her face with her hands, 
 " remember that such was my mother. I can never for- 
 get. Do I look like him ?" she suddenly exclaimed, drop- 
 ping her hands and approaching Mr. Wade, till she stood 
 close in front of him. " Is there a feature of mine that is
 
 84: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 his ; is my voice similar ; do I walk like him ; is there 
 anything in my body or mind that recalls him ? If he is 
 my uncle, there must be something in me that would re- 
 mind you of him some family trait or feature that we 
 both have. Todd my uncle ! Was my mother is my 
 mother as low, for a woman, as he is for a man ? Do you 
 think, as you look at me, that such a thing can be possible ? 
 Se3 ! I am, they say, good-looking, I am well behaved, I 
 dress well, I go to church, I pray to God night and morn- 
 ing" she clasped her hands together as she spoke, and 
 raised her eyes "I try to do my duty to my Maker and to 
 my neighbor. I have never intentionally wronged a human 
 being. I take pleasure in books, in learning, in the refine- 
 ments of life. Now, could wealth and education and asso- 
 ciation so take the beast out of me as to make me differ- 
 ent from that man, when, if I had been left to my own na- 
 tive mental and bodily filth, I should have been like him ? 
 Is it possible that the innate brutality that would have 
 characterized me, if that man's sister is my mother, could 
 have been removed by any influences that mankind can 
 control ? You look astounded to hear me talk thus, but I 
 am only giving utterance to thoughts that for two long 
 and dreary years have burned themselves into my very 
 soul!" 
 
 "My dear child, I am astonished ; you take the matter 
 too hard. I thought you had made up your mind to accept 
 the situation and to make the best of it. Yes, I do believe 
 that such associations as you have had could have raised 
 you up to be the peer of any woman that walks the earth. 
 What do I care who your mother was or who your uncle 
 is ? I know what you are. I have known you since you 
 were a little child : you were always gentle, always good, 
 always ready to do a kindness to any one in need. What 
 if your mother were worse than Todd ? Have you forgot- 
 ten that your father's blood flows in your veins ? I don't
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANUA. 85 
 
 believe in this nonsense about heredity. A man or a woman 
 is the creature of circumstances ; but, if there is anything 
 in it, your father and the race from which he comes must 
 count for something." 
 
 " I don't know perhaps you are right ; but it seems to 
 me now that, if such a man as Todd is my uncle, I must be 
 like him. Yon see, I may be concealing all my bad traits, 
 just as I hare made you believe that I had ceased to care 
 who my mother was. They will come out after a while. 
 Blood will telL" 
 
 "Yon are getting morbid on the subject You are not 
 speaking your real sentiments. You know that what you 
 say is not true. You ought not to speak to me in that 
 way." He spoke severely, and turned as though to leave 
 the room. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " cried Alana, laying her hand on his 
 arm ; " I did not intend to trifle with you, but, if I am mor- 
 bid, have I not had enough to make me so ? When I think 
 of what I really am the nameless child of a wicked and 
 degraded mother and of what I am forced to seem to be, 
 the daughter of Francis Honeywood, born in honor I lose 
 command of myself and scarcely know what I say. It 
 seems to me then as though I owe expiation for my con- 
 tinued deception, and that I ought to reveal myself in my 
 true colors," 
 
 "My dear Alana," said Mr. Wade, "I understand 
 your position perfectly, and it is nothing like as bad as you 
 imagine it to be. Suppose your mother was the very drags 
 of society, and that you as seems to be established were 
 born out of wedlock, have you nothing for which you 
 ought to be thankful ? Your father was a good man. 
 Even if he did sin in his youth, he rescued you from the 
 ditch, acknowledged you as his daughter, brought you up 
 in wealth, education, and refinement, and then made you 
 his sole heiress. What difference does it make to you now
 
 86 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 who your mother was ? What if you are a bastard ? The 
 word is a good one, and we need not displace it for eu- 
 phemisms. Do you not know that some of the noblest, 
 bravest, most honorable and chaste men and women that 
 the world has ever seen, were bastards ? It is no fault of 
 yours that you are illegitimate." 
 
 Alana was astonished ; she had never seen Mr. Wade so 
 thoroughly in earnest. lie spoke as though he meant 
 every word to make an impression that would be lasting. 
 She could not answer, she could only stand and look at 
 him in wonder, at the frankness with which he spoke a 
 frankness that he had never, though free from hypocrisy, 
 ventured to display to such an extent to her on any previ- 
 ous occasion. 
 
 " Now," he continued, stopping in his walk and laying 
 his hands on her shoulders, "if this matter is going to 
 change your disposition and to make you misanthropic, or 
 cause you to be eternally carrying on contests with your- 
 self, I'll tell you what to do. You spoke just now of sail- 
 ing under false colors. There is no occasion for you to do 
 that if you really believe that you are acting a lie. I don't 
 see the matter in that light. The world, probably, is not 
 bothering itself about you ; and, at any rate, it's none of 
 its business who your mother was, or whether you are, or 
 are not, illegitimate. But if you wish to enlighten it, and 
 if you feel that the burden of your secret is more than you 
 can bear, out with it, and cease sailing under false colors ! 
 Cleanse your heart of the ' perilous stuff,' and stand forth 
 in your true light." 
 
 "What !" she exclaimed, in horror, "reveal my shame- 
 ful origin ? You must be mad to give me such advice ! " 
 She thought of John Benham and of his honorable lineage, 
 and of what he would probably think. Certainly he 
 would not ask her, whose mother had been, if she was not 
 now, a strumpet, to be his wife and the mother of his chil-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHASffA. 87 
 
 dren. No, the idea was not to be thought of. She would 
 keep her secret to herself. 
 
 "You say that you are acting a lie," resumed 3Ir. 
 Wade, with merciless emphasis. " If that is true, it is your 
 duty to tell the truth. If you imagine that there is one 
 person who would think less of you, knowing who you 
 really are, go and tell that person that you are a bastard, 
 and that your mother probably died in the gutter or in a 
 prison. I'm not going to spare you," he continued, as she 
 moaned piteously, and covered her face with her hands, as 
 though to hide her shame. " Desperate diseases like yours 
 require desperate remedies. Go and blazon the truth to 
 the world and be done with it ! Then you will know how 
 many true friends you have, and there will be no more 
 morbidness and hysterical statements about your wicked- 
 ness and your false colors and your acted lies. Or, if you 
 shrink from personally proclaiming the truth, I will do it 
 for you." 
 
 "A week ago I could have done this," said Alana, in a 
 voice scarcely above a whisper, and as though speaking to 
 herself. " I would have done it rather even than submit 
 to imposition, but now it is impossible." 
 
 " Why impossible ? " 
 
 " I can not tell you." 
 
 " Do you mean that you can not tell me because you do 
 not know, or because you will not ? " 
 
 " Oh, I know well enough ! I do not wish to tell you." 
 
 " Then I have nothing rurther to say. Good-night ! " 
 
 He held out his hand as he spoke. 
 
 " You are going away angry with me," she said, with. 
 an attempt at a smile, as she took his hand. 
 
 " Xo, not angry with you, but somewhat disappointed." 
 
 "You thought I was stronger than I am." 
 
 " I thought you stronger than you seem to be. Per- 
 haps even yet you will show your strength."
 
 88 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " You have not spared me to-night. You have never 
 before spoken so cruelly to me." 
 
 " Cruelty such as mine is kindness in reality. I wished 
 to save you from yourself. Do you not know that most of 
 the troubles of this life flee from him who faces them ? You 
 are beginning to brood over this one of yours, and if you 
 keep on as you have begun it will seize you in its pitiless 
 grasp and perhaps destroy your reason. I have tried to- 
 night to cut it out, as the surgeon cuts out a diseased 
 part of the body. Good-night ! God bless you ! I love 
 you as though you were my own child, and that is why I 
 want to rescue you while there is yet time."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE procession, with the band, and followed by the 
 greater portion of the women and children of the village, 
 moved across the lawn to John Benham's house, and made 
 a demonstration similar to that that had been shown to 
 Miss Honcywood. He came out on the veranda and spoke 
 his thanks in a modest sort of way, that gave the people 
 more satisfaction than they would have derived from an 
 elaborate speech. It was then that Tom Stickler, one of 
 the leaders of the striking brick-layers, announced that to- 
 morrow morning he and all the rest of them would go to 
 work, and that they would take no wages till they had re- 
 stored to its original condition the stack that had been 
 pulled down during the previous night. This declaration 
 was received with great delight by the crowd, for there 
 were many men skilled in the working of furnaces that 
 were in the village waiting to be employed, and whose 
 chances had been suddenly taken away by the conduct of 
 Todd and his friends. 
 
 Then, when the men had gone, Benham re-entered the 
 house, and, going up-stairs, proceeded to a large room in 
 the attic which he had fitted up as a laboratory, and where 
 he pursued his studies and conducted his experiments. 
 
 He had as yet scarcely had time to think over the 
 events of the afternoon. He had been kept more than an 
 hour at Todd's house assisting the doctor, and watching 
 his late adversary in order to prevent him making his es- 
 cape. Then, after he had turned him over to the officers
 
 90 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 of the law, some matter at the furnace had required his 
 attention, and he had barely got home, and told his moth- 
 er what had happened, when the demonstration of the 
 workmen had required his attendance. 
 
 Now, however, he was his own master for a couple of 
 hours, and, as usual with him when his time was at his dis- 
 posal, he spent it in his laboratory. He sat down at a 
 table on which there were blowpipes, and crucibles of sand 
 and black-lead, and various other chemical appliances, and 
 began heating with a blowpipe a little mass of something 
 that was held in an excavation in a piece of charcoal. 
 
 He worked at this uninterruptedly for several minutes, 
 but apparently without getting the result that he wished ; 
 for he got up several times and paced the floor as though 
 to abstract himself more thoroughly from the manipula- 
 tion, and to concentrate his thought upon points that he 
 had previously deemed of no importance. Then he re- 
 turned to the table, and added something out of a wide- 
 mouthed bottle to the little bead on the charcoal, and, 
 again turning the flame of the blowpipe upon it, watched 
 for the changes that might ensue. 
 
 But again he was disappointed, for, with an air of vexa- 
 tion, he extinguished the spirit-lamp that he had been 
 using with the blowpipe, and, throwing the charcoal with 
 its little mass upon which he had been working on the 
 table, he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. 
 
 "It is no use," he said. "Do what I will, I can not 
 fuse it satisfactorily j and yet I am sure that the process 
 is right, and that it must be something in the proportions 
 that is wrong." 
 
 Ho took up from the table a sheet of paper covered 
 with chemical and algebraic equations, and other notes and 
 figures, and studied them for a few minutes. 
 
 "I'll go out and take a walk," he said, at last. " This 
 is all wrong," crumpling the paper in his hand and throw-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 91 
 
 ing it on the floor. He stood for a moment as though un- 
 decided what to do ; then he arranged some of the appara- 
 tus on the table, and, still looking annoyed, left the room. 
 
 As he went down the stairs, the door of a room on the 
 first floor was opened, and an elderly lady, still handsome, 
 and wearing the dress of a widow, came out into the halL 
 
 "Are you going out, John ?" she said. " I heard your 
 speech to the men. I did not know you could be so elo- 
 quent. They seem to be very glad that Miss Honeywood 
 was rescued. I thought, if you were going out, I would 
 get you to stop and present my congratulations to her. I 
 would go myself, but my sciatica is so bad that I am afraid 
 to make the attempt." 
 
 ''Yes, mother," he answered, "I am going to take a 
 walk. The excitement of the day has been too much even 
 for me, and you know I am not easily affected by such 
 things. As to stopping to give your message to Miss 
 Honeywood, I'd rather not, if it doesn't make much differ- 
 ence. Suppose you write her a note, and send it over by 
 Eliza?" 
 
 "Yes," rejoined his mother, smiling, "I suppose Eliza 
 can take the note ; but I thought you might want to say 
 something yourself to Miss Honeywood." 
 
 "All that is necessary has already passed between her 
 and me. She thanked me, and I acknowledged her thanks, 
 and expressed myself gratified at the fact that she had suf- 
 fered nothing beyond a little fright." 
 
 "Well, well, I suppose you know best; but it does 
 seem to me that you two might be a little more sociable 
 with each other. How long has it been since you paid 
 Miss Honeywood a visit ? " 
 
 " You know I go there every morning." 
 
 "Yes, to the office." 
 
 "It isn't necessary, so far as I can see, that I should go 
 at any other time."
 
 92 Otf THE SUSQUEHAKN"A. 
 
 " Certainly not necessary, but it would be kind, and at 
 the same time respectful, if you occasionally paid her the 
 compliment of a visit that was not official. You owe her 
 something, I think, not only on your own account, but on 
 mine." 
 
 John Benham gave no reply, while he made a show of 
 brushing his hat and looking for a cane that he generally 
 took with him when he went for a walk. At last, having 
 used up all the time that these acts could, by the most 
 liberal expenditure, require, he said : 
 
 "Doubtless I have been very negligent ; I will try and 
 do better in the future." He laid the hat-brush that he 
 had been using so assiduously on the table, and, as he did 
 so, a letter attracted his attention. He took it up, saw that 
 it was addressed to him, and, opening it, read as follows : 
 
 " JUNIATA IRON-WOUKS, RlTNER, Pi. 
 
 " DEAE SIR : "We have been for some time contem- 
 plating making you the following proposition, but circum- 
 stances have, up to the present, prevented our so doing. 
 
 "We desire to secure your valuable services in the 
 general management of our works, and, with that view, 
 hereby offer you a one-fourth interest in the same. There 
 are no debts beyond such as have been incurred in the run- 
 ning of the business, and which will all be paid off when- 
 ever the bills for the same are presented. Last year the 
 net profit was $84,659.80, and the business this year, as 
 well as the prices obtained for our iron, assure us that the 
 net income will be considerably over $100,000. 
 
 " Should you be disposed to entertain our proposal our 
 Mr. Cummings, with whom you are already acquainted, will 
 call to see you at such time as you may designate, and ar- 
 range with you for an inspection of our works. 
 
 "We are, very respectfully, your obedient servants, 
 " CUMMINGS, JANSEN & JONES."
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHASXA. 93 
 
 To say that John Benham was astonished at the con- 
 tents of this letter, would Tery inadequately express the 
 state of his feelings. For a moment he was overwhelmed, 
 hut it was only for a moment He was one of those per- 
 sons that rarely, if eyer, lose their presence of mind, but 
 who are always ready for any emergency that may be forced 
 upon them. But it might well happen, even to a man of 
 his strong mental organization, that he should be at the 
 instant somewhat confused at the magnitude of the pros- 
 pect so suddenly opened before him. 
 
 His salary at the Susquehanna Iron- Works, which origi- 
 nally had been three thousand dollars a year, had, just 
 before Mr. Honeywood's death, been raised to five thou- 
 sand. Then, as the reader knows, Alana had added a house, 
 so that no fault could reasonably be found with his pecuni- 
 ary situation. This offer of Messrs. Cummings, Jansen & 
 Jones, if accepted, made him his own master, with an in- 
 come of twenty-five thousand dollars a year, from a partner- 
 ship given to him outright, in order that the firm might 
 secure him. Certainly, it was very pleasant. He liked to 
 be appreciated ; he was ambitious. Doubtless, the gentle- 
 men who owned the Juniata Iron- Works knew what they 
 were about, and were confident that, with him as a member 
 of the firm, the profits of the establishment would be still 
 further increased. The net income from the Susquehanna 
 Iron- Works was about sixty thousand a year, and this all 
 went to Alana. He believed that, if the experiments that 
 he was now conducting were successful, the net profits could 
 easily be doubled. However, he could not think of it now. 
 There were too many questions to be considered before he 
 could come to a determination. He would revolve some of 
 them in his mind during his walk. Without saying any- 
 thing to his mother, relative to the contents of the letter, 
 he left the house. 
 
 Passing out of the grounds to the long street upon
 
 94: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 which most of the houses occupied by the workmen and 
 their families were situated, he turned to the west, and, in 
 a few minutes, found himself on the bank of the Susque- 
 hanna. He stopped for a moment, to determine whether 
 he should go north or south, but, concluding that he would 
 have a better chance of being alone if he climbed the mount- 
 ain, he turned to the left, and walked rapidly toward the 
 ridge, now lit up by the rays of the setting sun. 
 
 He had about a mile to go before arriving at the base of 
 the mountain, but it did not take him long to traverse this 
 distance, and then he began the ascent, which at this point 
 was easy. He intended to go about half-way to the top, 
 and then, taking a path that he knew of, that inclined to 
 the right, go partially around the ridge to a big rock that 
 he often visited, and from which a view of the river, up and 
 down the stream, was obtained. Here he meant to stop, and 
 at his ease, and isolated from all disturbing influences, 
 direct his mind to the task of settling the very important 
 matter which the letter he had just received had brought 
 up for consideration. At last the rock, an immense mass 
 of limestone, was immediately in front of him, at the dis- 
 tance of about fifty feet. To reach the place on which he 
 had generally sat, when he came here, it was necessary for 
 him to pass around on either side, for it was on the south 
 face of the rock, and was an excavation made probably at 
 some very remote period by water, being in shape like a 
 big arm-chair, and, as such things go, not uncomfortable. 
 
 He did not stop to think which path he should take, 
 but automatically followed the one that led to the right. 
 How slight a circumstance sometimes determines important 
 events ! If he had gone by the left path, or the one far- 
 thest from the river, he would not have been in the posi- 
 tion to perform the timely act that, as it was, he did per- 
 form. For he would at once have been discovered by the 
 parties courting secrecy, and they would have taken a
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 95 
 
 speedy departure from the vicinity of the intruder. The 
 difference between the two paths mainly consisted m the 
 fact that the one to the right led to the top of the rock, 
 and thence down to the natural seat, or, as it was called, 
 fi Washington's Throne,*' from a legend not, perhaps, well 
 authenticated, that Washington had sat in it The path 
 descended till the front of the rock was reached, and then, 
 by a few steps cut in the stone, the seat was reached. 
 
 Benham, as I have said, took the right or ascending 
 path, and thus reached the top of the rock, He walked 
 along the flat surface, and, just as he was about to descend. 
 he thought he heard voices below him. Quietly approach- 
 ing the edge, he looked over, and there, engaged in ear- 
 nest conversation, woe a man and a woman. 
 
 He was about to draw back, and return to the Tillage, 
 or seek some other spot for his meditation, when he heard 
 the man utter Todd's name. This surprised him. He 
 would have scorned to listen to any private conversation 
 from mere motives of curiosity, or for the purpose of per- 
 sonal advantage, but he had ample reason for believing 
 Todd to be a desperate and a dangerous character, and he 
 had no doubt that it was his duty to find out all he could 
 in regard to the fellow's movements and schemes. He 
 therefore again approached the edge of the rock, and, bend- 
 ing over, took a good look at the pre-emptors of his object- 
 ire point. 
 
 Being immediately above them, he could not see their 
 faces. The man, however, was sitting in " Washington's 
 Throne " ; the woman was on the ground, below her 
 companion. Both were, as well as he could determine, 
 strangers to that part of the country. 
 
 For two or three minutes after uttering Todd's name 
 they were silent. The last speech it was tile man who 
 had made it had apparently been of a kind to require 
 reflection, and that, too, of no pleasant character, for the
 
 96 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 
 
 woman was crying. Benham not only saw her wiping her 
 eyes with a handkerchief, but he could hear her sobs. At 
 last she spoke : 
 
 " I think we had better give the matter up ; I haven't 
 the heart to go on with it." 
 
 As she said these words she turned and faced the man ; 
 and, in order to see him, she had to look up, so that Ben- 
 ham, who had stretched himself out at full length, with 
 only so much of his head protruding over the edge of the 
 rock as enabled him to see the parties below, got a toler- 
 ably good view of her face. It was that of a woman appar- 
 ently fifty or even fifty-five years of age, of handsome feat- 
 ures, and still not uncomely-looking. Her hair was quite 
 gray, but she seemed to be well preserved, and was evidently 
 vigorous, and capable of enduring a good deal of physical 
 hardship without suffering. She wore a close-fitting, dark- 
 gray traveling-dress, of some woolen material, and a plain 
 black hat, with a blue veil. She bad the general appear- 
 ance of a lady, and her speech showed that she knew how 
 to speak the English language without falling into the 
 errors common to the uneducated people of that part of the 
 country. She clasped her hands together as she spoke, 
 and the tone of her voice showed that she was suffering 
 from strong feeling, either of fear or of sorrow. 
 
 " It's too late, now, for you to back out," answered the 
 man, as he nonchalantly kicked his heels against the rock 
 on which he was sitting. " Todd will be out in a few days, 
 and then things will all go right again. Because he got 
 drunk, and spoiled things, is no reason why you should be 
 despondent or frightened. His wife will get well ; she 
 won't appear against him, and by to-morrow morning the 
 girl will be out of the way, and can't appear." 
 
 " I think we had hotter give it up till Alec is free again. 
 I am afraid." 
 
 " I tell you it's too late to give it up 1 Everything ia
 
 0V THE SCSQCEHAXyA. &[ 
 
 r<T for to^i^fct, .adit* go on. If I hri 4fee bene. 
 
 "Iimtywtogoto tite iKWBe am BenyV 
 stay there tin I come with the giri, or * lent tin u- 
 If I aai <* facie, witik or withomt her, 
 
 <n 6007*9 
 
 sad white," fee 
 :-:.: :-
 
 98 ON" THE SUSQUEHAJWA. 
 
 and, if he had injured her, I think I should have killed 
 him." 
 
 "Well, that would have been an unnecessary crime," 
 answered the man, laughing ; " so you needn't be so 
 squeamish about what I'm going to do. Besides, it is 
 necessary. "Without it the whole thing would run a good 
 chance of falling through. The fire will engage attention, 
 and leave me and my proceedings unnoticed." 
 
 Benham had listened to this conversation with all the 
 interest that he was capable of experiencing. Who were 
 these people ? What criminal acts did they contemplate ? 
 Evidently something against a woman, and clearly that 
 woman was Alana. So far as he could judge, they pro- 
 posed that night to abduct her. "With or without the 
 girl, I'll be there before morning." That meant abduc- 
 tion, and then the wretch meant to set fire to the house at 
 the same time. He could scarcely refrain from dropping a 
 big stone on the scoundrel's head and knocking his brains 
 out. He calculated the space between himself and the fel- 
 low, as he sat in "Washington's Throne," dangling his 
 legs and talking coolly of abduction and arson, involving, 
 perhaps, murder as well, and he came to the conclusion 
 that the distance was not too great for him to seize the 
 wretch by the collar of the coat and lift him bodily up t3 
 where he himself was. Then it would be no fault of his if 
 he did not manage to prevent the contemplated crimes. 
 It was not yet time, however, for him to interfere. Other 
 revelations were coming. 
 
 "For God's sake, do her no injury ! " 
 
 " Oh, never fear ; I'll be as gentle with her as if she 
 were my own daughter. It's not her house I'm going to 
 set fire to. That would be destroying valuable property " 
 he laughed as he said these words " that we may have 
 need for. It's Benham's house that's doomed ! He's the 
 fellow that interfered with Todd this afternoon and se-
 
 OST THE SCSQTTEHAXSTA. 99 
 
 cured his imprisonment, and Fm going to pay him for his 
 trouble." 
 
 " I am glad he did ; Alec would have injured her if he 
 had been let alone, and then I should have injured him as 
 sure as there's a God in hearen ! " She spoke with great 
 feeling, and raised her eyes as though to give additional 
 MMfiiiiiniii to her exclamation. 
 
 "Well, she's safe, and won't be injured. But we're ia 
 danger of forgetting the object of our visit to this rock. 
 You can't quite see the works from this side. Come round 
 to the other side and 111 show you every house in the Til- 
 lage, including the one she li res in, and that of the super- 
 intendent.'' 
 
 He made a movement as he spoke, as though to get 
 down from his perch, and at the same instant Benham 
 leaned over the rock, and, stretching out his right arm to 
 its fullest extent, grasped the coat-collar of the man, and, 
 exerting all his strength, raised him kicking and squirming 
 to the top of the rock. 
 
 It is doubtful whether he or his woman-companion was 
 most astonished. She, hearing the muttered exclamation 
 of the man, looked up, and seeing him dangling in the air, 
 and a strong arm lifting him higher and higher, gave a 
 shriek of affright, and, rushing over the path that led to the 
 plain below, was soon out of sight. As to the man, Ben- 
 ham did not give him much opportunity for seeking assist- 
 ance. Besides, he was a small personage, and was as but a 
 feather in the strong grasp of the determined man that 
 held him in a grip of iron. 
 
 "Ifow, you scoundrel," exclaimed Benham, as he 
 swung him to the flat surface of the rock and put his 
 knees on the fellow's chest, "if I don't punish you here 
 once for all, it's because I think you will do better in 
 the penitentiary than as food for the crows. I heard 
 you unfold your vile schemes, and Fve a notion to choke
 
 100 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 you. By Heaven, I can't keep my hands off of your 
 throat ! " 
 
 He seized the man by the collar as he spoke, and gave 
 him a shaking that seemed as though it would knock the 
 breath out of his body. 
 
 "Now, you rascal," he continued, still keeping his hold 
 on the man but relaxing his grip on his throat, " who are 
 you ? " 
 
 " How can I speak," muttered the fellow, as though 
 half choked, as he doubtless was, "when you treat me like 
 that ? Let me go, and I'll tell you who I am." 
 
 "I'll give you a chance to speak, but I have no inten- 
 tion of letting you go till I see you inside of the Dauphin 
 County Jail." He looked around him as he spoke, as 
 though hoping to cast his eye on a rope, or something that 
 would serve to restrain the man's movements. It was a 
 purely automatic act, arising from the habit he had, when 
 in his laboratory, of looking for things, and generally find- 
 ing what he needed close at hand. Of course, he did not 
 this time see what he wanted. Suddenly an idea appeared 
 to strike him, for he lifted the man till he stood upon his 
 feet. 
 
 " Now," he said, holding him by the arm with a grip 
 of iron, " come with me." 
 
 Of course the man came. There was no help for him. 
 Benham would have been more than a match for two like 
 him. Down the rock they went till they reached the 
 ground ; then Benham stopped, and, looking around him 
 again, found this time what he sought in the form of a small 
 hickory-tree. Holding on to his prisoner with one hand, 
 he took from his pocket a large clasp-knife, and cut from 
 the tree a long switch, almost as flexible as a hempen cord, 
 and with this all the time admonishing the submissive 
 captive to keep still, or it would be the worse for him he 
 proceeded to fasten the man's hands behind his back, in
 
 05 THE SUSQOHAXy^ 101 
 
 awa^andaoir-lj, that itwaB 
 
 I thint my friend, tint you are safe enough now,* he 
 "and, if you pfeaae, m'hear who TOU are. 19 
 Torn wont bear anything from me," answered the 
 , suIfcnlT. " If Fre -ot to go to jaiL y ouTl have to 
 
 "All right; to jafl you are going, as certain as that jom 
 are now o* Mart Mountain ! As to making out a case 
 against TOO. I heard enoogh of TOOT conversation to know 
 that jmi contff^ihtrd entering Mot Honeywood's home 
 to-night and carrying her o ; and that you abn intended, 
 to further your schemes, and to be revenged for mj 
 with TOOT confederate, Mr. Alramfar Todd, 
 
 to born mj house down !" 
 "YooTl find it difficult to make any crime oat of words, 
 I rather think, no matter what I said.- 
 
 There TOU are wrong; I shall he able to prore the 
 
 I am deiadedly of the opinion that, 'under 
 
 Te a chance to pkad 
 mjurj." 
 
 Nothing more w said tffl they reached the foot of the 
 nntaia. and were about tarain? into die road thai ran 
 ag the hank of the rrrar. Then the prisoner, who was 
 in front of Be&ham, mMemtj stopped and 
 
 "I dontcaretopaBthen^itinjail,"heaaid, "IH 
 tefl JOB who I am, and all ahoot the matter, if jonrH let 
 
 -egot" 
 
 "Xo, my friend; I hare not the Boat distant idea of 
 letting TDU go. I ahaD find oat aoon enough who yon are, 
 and all about your plans; for, as soon as I see yon safe in
 
 102 ON" THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 the hands of Constable Keifer, I am going with half a dozen 
 trusty men in pursuit of the woman, your confederate ; and 
 as, from what she said, she seems to be rather lukewarm in 
 her adhesion to your plans, doubtless she will tell me all 
 that I care to know." 
 
 11 You'll never find her," said the man, with decision. 
 " If you think she's gone to the house on Berry's Mountain, 
 you're very much mistaken. By this time she's far enough 
 off to defy pursuit. She isn't a fool. You'd better make 
 a friend of me." 
 
 " No, you are going to jail, and by tb.3 train that passes 
 here in half an hour ; so move on." 
 
 "But I'm not going on the train in half an hour," say- 
 ing which, the man deliberately lay down on the ground. 
 "Now," he continued, "if you want me to be in time for 
 that train, you'll have to get me there yourself, for not 
 another step will I walk ! " 
 
 "Very well, then !" exclaimed Benham, not losing his 
 temper, but it must be supposed coming very near it. He 
 cut another larger and stronger branch than the other, 
 from a hickory-tree close by, and, tying the man's feet to- 
 gether in such a way as to leave a loop of the withe to catch 
 hold of, he proceeded to drag him along the ground. " I 
 think," he continued, after he had gone a few steps, at every 
 one of which the man's head struck uncomfortably against 
 the rough ground, " that I can stand it as long as you can ! 
 You won't have much skin on your back by the time we 
 get to Squire McElroy's ; for I mean to get you there, if I 
 have to drag you every foot of the way ! " 
 
 They went on along the road, meeting no one. It was 
 nearly dark now, and in order to catch the train it was ne- 
 cessary to hurry. Besides, the business with the squire as 
 a justice of the peace is called in Pennsylvania would- 
 probably take ten minutes. Fortunately, his residence 
 was very near the railway-station. Benham looked at his
 
 OF THE SUSQUEHAXX A. 103 
 
 watch ; it was half-past six, and the train was due at five 
 minutes after seven. 
 
 He looked back at the man he was dragging. ^ The fel- 
 low was holding np his head, so as to keep it from rubbing 
 against the gronnd, bat it was very evident he was having 
 a most uncomfortable time of it ; for not only was his back 
 gpliin^ hard Usage, bat, what was still more unpleasant, 
 his hands, being tied behind him, were being scraped in a 
 way that most, from the very beginning, have denuded 
 them of their skin. 
 
 Benham looked back, but it was not with any pity in 
 his heart for the man that he was so ruthlessly bent on de- 
 livering into the hands of the officers of the law. He was 
 an obstinate man in some things, and rather disposed to be 
 hard, even to the verge of cruelty, with evil-doars. But 
 the weight was beginning to tell on him, and he had not 
 yet gone a hundred yards since his prisoner had refused 
 to walk. At the rate at which he was going, he certainly 
 would not arrive in time to get his warrant from Squire 
 McElroy, and deliver bis prize to the constable in time to 
 take the seven-five train, and he did not see what he could 
 do to expedite matters. The survey that he hurriedly made 
 of the man did not lead to any suggestions for increasing 
 the speed at which he was going. There was nothing to 
 do bat to go on and get to the village as soon as he could. 
 
 But the man had watched the face that was turned 
 toward him, and had seen that there was no glance of com- 
 passion or signs of yielding in it. The situation was for 
 him more than uncomfortable ; it was painful, and there 
 was every prospect that ere long it would be agonizing. 
 His clothes were worn through ; the skin of his back was 
 beginning to be abraded; that of his hands, where they 
 had touched the ground, was gone after the first few steps, 
 and if the thing continued all the way to the village there 
 would be scarcely a vestige of flesh and bone, much less of
 
 104 ON THE STJ3QUEHANNA. 
 
 skin, on either his back or hands. Evidently, his master 
 for the time being did not care whether he got him in 
 alive or dead. That he was going to drag him to the 
 squire's house in any event was clear. He made up his 
 mind. " Stop ! " he cried ; " I will walk." 
 
 " You will have to run now ; walking will not do," an- 
 swered Benham without relaxing one iota of his effort. 
 
 " Very well, then ; I will run as fast as I can." 
 
 In an instant Benham stopped, and, cutting the hickory 
 withe that bound the man's feet, allowed him to rise. 
 
 "Now," he said, indicating to him to take the lead, 
 "go on as fast as you can, and I'll follow you. If you 
 stop, I'll drag you again ! " 
 
 At first the man showed by his movements that his 
 muscles and joints were stiff, but in a short time he ap- 
 peared to get over the ground with more ease. Just as 
 they reached the confines of the village, they met a wagon 
 coming toward them, driven by a man whom Benham .rec- 
 ognized as one of his own people. He stopped the vehicle, 
 and, after a word with the driver, ordered his prisoner to 
 get into it. The man was nothing loath. He had had 
 enough of the two kinds of locomotion with which he had 
 experimented. Benham followed him. It was just ten 
 minutes to seven when they reached the squire's house. 
 
 In the examination, Benham told his story without 
 comment. The man declined to tell his name or to make 
 any statement. At seven-five he was on his way to Harris- 
 burg, under the charge of Constable Keifer, and with a 
 pair of handcuffs on his wrists. There was even time for 
 him to wash his hands, which were in a pitiable plight, 
 and for Benham to apply a healing salve and bandages to 
 them. 
 
 The man looked at him curiously while his captor was 
 performing those charitable acts. 
 
 " I'm much obliged to you," he said, "but it won't be
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 105 
 
 sufficient to wipe out of my mind the remembrance of this 
 day. I'll be even with you yet ! " 
 
 " Well, my friend, I've had so much the start of you, 
 that you'll have a good deal to do to catch up." 
 
 Men were sent in all directions, with the hope of inter- 
 cepting the woman, but they returned at different hours 
 through the night without even having caught sight of 
 her. The house on Berry's Mountain was entirely deserted, 
 and exhibited no signs of having been recently occupied. 
 It was owned by a farmer, who occasionally lived in it for a 
 few weeks at a time, when he was burning lime and char- 
 coal on the mountain. A telegram to the chief of police 
 of Harrisburg was answered to the effect that no woman 
 guch as was described had to his knowledge arrived in that 
 city.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN" making his charge against his prisoner, Benham had 
 said nothing in regard to the conspiracy to abduct Miss 
 Honeywood, which he believed the man and woman con- 
 templated, but had confined his allegations to what he had 
 heard relative to destroying his house by fire. He judged 
 it better to make this restriction, for the reasons that he did 
 not wish to alarm Miss Honeywood, and that he thought 
 he would be more likely to discover further details of the 
 plot by preserving secrecy, and pursuing investigations, 
 privately, and in his own way. He resolved, however, to 
 institute a special system of guarding Miss Honeywood's 
 and his own house by night, and, before he went home, he 
 arranged with several of his men a service of the kind. At 
 first he thought he would stop in and tell Miss Honeywood 
 what had happened, and he went to her residence for that 
 purpose. He ascended to the veranda, and was about pull- 
 ing the bell, when he heard voices in the drawing-room, and 
 listening for a moment distinguished those of Mr. Trevor, 
 Mr. Wade, and Dr. Arndell. Not caring to relate his ad- 
 ventures before these gentlemen, he crossed the lawn to his 
 own house, where he found his mother waiting tea for him. 
 He told her what had occurred, omitting, however, all refer- 
 ence to the abduction plot. Of course, he knew that she 
 would be alarmed, but as she was sure to hear the story in 
 the morning as she strolled through the village, stopping 
 at Mrs. Barton's and Miss Pink's, to make little purchases, 
 but mainly for the purpose of hearing the news, and as her
 
 OX THE SUSQrEHAXXA. 107 
 
 informants would doubtless descant with great volubility 
 on her narrow escape from being burned to death in her bed, 
 he judged it preferable that she should get the account from 
 him. 
 
 "You need not be afraid, now, mother," he added; 
 "the chief conspirators are safe in Jail in Harrisburg, and 
 there will be an all-night patrol, well armed, kept at this 
 house and at Miss Honeywood's." 
 
 'But, my dear John, why Arnold they want to burn 
 your house ? You never did them any harm ! It's infa- 
 mous ! perfectly infamous ! '' 
 
 "Of course it is," 5 said Benham, laughing. "As to 
 why they desire to burn this house, it is perfectly clear to 
 me that they wish to be revenged for the drubbing I gave 
 Todd. In fact, the fellow I caught said so.** 
 
 "How fortunate that you went to 'Washington's 
 Throne, 7 instead of going up the river, as you sometimes 
 do!" 
 
 " Yes," he answered, musingly. " it was very fortunate- ~ 
 
 " It isn't often that you go off at that time of the after- 
 noon. I saw you had something on your mind, that wor- 
 ried you, and I suppose you wanted to 'clear your brain,' 
 you my." 
 
 " Yes, I could not get my experiment with the new flux 
 to work right, and I thought I would go out into the pure 
 air and think over ail the points. I can think much better 
 when there is no ceiling over my head. I have heard of 
 people that can't stay in a room without feeling terrified. 
 I shouldn't be surprised if I had a mild form of the disease 
 claustrophobia, Dr. Arndell calls it." 
 
 " Did your letter worry you ? The one, I mean, that 
 you got and read just before you went out." 
 
 "No, I can't say that it worried me, but it gave me 
 something important to think about. I am offered a part- 
 iip in the Joniaia Iron-Works at Bitner.* 5
 
 108 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " A partnership ! John, what a fortunate man you 
 are ! But you deserve it all ; no one ever worked harder, 
 or more faithfully and intelligently. Of course, you won't 
 have to give the matter much consideration." 
 
 "I don't know. At first I almost made up my mind to 
 accept, but the little reflection I have been able to give the 
 matter rather leads me to the opposite conclusion." 
 
 " My dear John, you could scarcely refuse such an offer. 
 "What is the interest they offer you ? " 
 
 "One fourth." 
 
 "And about what will that amount to ?" 
 
 "Twenty-five thousand dollars a year, more or less; 
 probably more." 
 
 " And you would be your own master, with twenty-five 
 thousand a year, while here you occupy a subordinate posi- 
 tion, with five thousand ? I don't see how you can hesi- 
 tate a moment." 
 
 " If I looked at the matter, mother, from a purely busi- 
 ness point of view, I should not require a moment in which 
 to make my decision, but there are other considerations." 
 
 Mrs. Benham was not endowed with the ordinary 
 amount of curiosity of her sex, or, if she was, she did not 
 exhibit it in her relations with her son, for she had never 
 shown a tendency to pry into his affairs. She had not the 
 most remote idea that he was in love with Alana, or of the 
 struggle that had been going on in his heart, from almost 
 the first hour of bis arrival at the Susquehanna Iron- Works. 
 She had believed that his disposition had undergone a great 
 change from what it was before he had accepted the super- 
 intendency of Mr. Honeywood's furnace. He was more 
 thoughtful, more sedate, and this extended very near to the 
 point of moroseness. He was often by himself, he was in- 
 disposed to converse, he had not the gayety that had pre- 
 viously characterized him. She attributed these changes 
 to the heavy responsibilities that rested upon him, to the
 
 OX THE SUSQUTHAXyA. 109 
 
 necessity that existed for his giving his attention to the 
 work he had to do, and especially to his experiments, and 
 to the fact that he was no longer a boy, but, being a studi- 
 ons man, had the temperament and disposition peculiar to 
 persons of his type. 
 
 But she had always given him credit for possessing ambi- 
 tion to succeed in his business and profession, and the fact 
 that he now showed a decided indifference to the proposi- 
 tion that had been made to him, disturbed her not a little. 
 At first, she was disposed to think that he was actuated by 
 an attachment for the place at which he had, as it were, 
 begun life, and with which, therefore, he would naturally 
 have many pleasant associations ; but a moment's reflection 
 was sufficient to convince her that that factor, even if it 
 existed to a more than ordinary extent, was altogether in- 
 adequate to produce the result that apparently had been 
 produced by something. The "'other considerations, " to 
 which he had alluded, were certainly stronger than any 
 that were at that moment in her mind. What they were, 
 she could not divine. So far as she understood the matter, 
 she believed it to be to his interest to accept the proposition 
 that had been made to him, unless, indeed and the idea 
 struck her as one that was worth attention he should be 
 offered a partnership by Miss Honeywood. It might well 
 be that, rather than lose so valuable a coadjutor, she would 
 see it to be her interest to retain him, upon like terms to 
 those offered him by the proprietors of the Juniata Iron- 
 Works. All this passed through her mind in a few mo- 
 ments, and then she spoke. 
 
 "I think," she said, "that if you were to tell Miss 
 Honeywood of the offer that has been made you, she would 
 make you a similar one, rather than lose you.** 
 
 " Yes," he answered ; " I am quite sure she would. It 
 would not, however, be a delicate suggestion for me to make 
 to her, or, in fact, to do anything that might lead to the
 
 110 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 supposition that I was trying to make the most of myself. 
 I would not like to be put in that position, especially to 
 her." 
 
 "I do not see it in that light. A man is worth just 
 what people are willing to give for him. Messrs. Cum- 
 mings, Jansen & Jones think you are worth to them a 
 partnership. That is, a gift of one fourth of their prop- 
 erty. It seems to me you ought to be worth more than 
 that to Miss Honeywood, for you know all the details here, 
 better than you could know them in a year at the Juniata 
 Works." 
 
 "Yes," he answered, with a smile, "provided Messrs. 
 Cummings, Jansen & Jones have made a correct judgment 
 of my value." 
 
 "But you have succeeded here; see how you have 
 brought up the business, till it pays better than it ever did, 
 and better and better every year." 
 
 " Very true ; but I could not make up my mind to go 
 to Miss Honeywood, and say : ' Here, I am offered a fourth 
 interest in the Juniata Iron-Works ; give me a like interest, 
 and I will stay with you ; refuse, and I leave you.' Do you 
 think that would be a nice thing for me to do ?" 
 
 " Not in those terms, perhaps, but in all essential points, 
 yes. Why should you not ? Are you to stay here as a 
 superintendent all your life, when you have advancement 
 offered you ? My dear John, I think you are very blind to 
 your interest." 
 
 "Perhaps I am; but I see clearly in regard to other 
 things, that are more to me than my pecuniary interest, 
 and I think I see that I can not leave this place. I suppose 
 that I shall be the superintendent as long as I live. Yes," 
 he added, after a moment's pause, and rising from his chair, 
 and beginning to pace the room, "I shall probably stay 
 here all my life in a subordinate position. It is preferable 
 to wealth and independence elsewhere."
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANXA. HI 
 
 This was too much for Mrs. Benham ; she rose also, and, 
 putting her hand on her son's arm, said to him : 
 
 " My dear John, either your reasons are stronger than 
 it is possible for me to imagine, or you are very impolitic. 
 Is there any objection to your making a confidante of your 
 mother?" 
 
 "So, my dear mother," he said, putting his arm around 
 her waist ; " I think I can be entirely frank with you. I 
 love Alaua Honey wood." 
 
 "That surprises me very much ! I had no idea that 
 you had any particular liking for her. You have always 
 appeared to avoid her." 
 
 "Yes, because I was trying to overcome my passion, 
 but to-day it got the better of me. It is useless for me to 
 struggle against it any longer ; I am deeply, hopelessly in 
 love." 
 
 " Not hopelessly, John ! Why do you say that ? " 
 
 "Because I have no reason to think that she can ever 
 love me. In all the years that we have lived in the same 
 place, seeing each other every day, she has not by word, or 
 sign, or tone of voice, or act, shown that she cares any more 
 for me than she would for any other man that did her work 
 as well as I have done it unless, perhaps, to-day. n 
 
 "I should think much less of her than I do, if she had. 
 Perhaps, she has been struggling with herself, as you have 
 been with yourself, and has been fully as successful. Xow, 
 / think she does like you more than she would another man 
 that did her work as well as you do it, I think she likes 
 you loves you, because you are John Benham. I know 
 women's ways better, my dear, than you know them, and I 
 am quite sure of the truth of what I say. And why should 
 she not?" she added, putting her arms around his neck, 
 and drawing his head down till she could kiss him. " You 
 are handsome and good ; your family is as old and as re- 
 spectable as hers. A Walter de Benham, or Debenham,
 
 112 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 was a valiant commander under Edward III of England, at 
 the battle of Halidon Hill, and captured with his own hand 
 three standards from the Scotch. You are descended from 
 him in a direct line, and I doubt if the Honeywoods, good 
 as their family is, can go as far back as that. Besides, you 
 can, when you choose, make yourself very winsome with 
 women, though I must say you have not done much in that 
 direction since you have been here." 
 
 "I wish I could be sure that you are right. This offer 
 of a partnership seems to me to put me more on a level 
 with her than I was before. I would not tell her of it for 
 the world, but it certainly gives me more assurance than I 
 would otherwise have." 
 
 " Go to her, and tell her that you love her, and ask her 
 to be your wife. Go as you are, the superintendent ; her 
 hired man, if you choose to give yourself that designation." 
 
 " But, if she refused me, I should have to go away, and 
 I do not want to go away." 
 
 " If she refused you, you can accept the partnership in 
 the Juuiata Works. Yes, you would have to go away." 
 
 "But I don't wish to go ; I must stay here." 
 
 "My dear John, that is nonsense. If she refuses you, 
 you will act like a man, I suppose, and not remain here, 
 as a rejected lover, to have your soul harrowed every mo- 
 ment of the day, and to make her situation more or less 
 embarrassing. " 
 
 " Mother, I can not go ; I have reason to think that she 
 is in danger. I shall have to tell you all I know of the 
 matter. You are entitled to that consideration, if only for 
 the assurances you give me that she cares for me." 
 
 In as few words as possible, Benham told his mother 
 what he had learned of the plans of the conspirators in re- 
 gard to the proposed abduction that night. 
 
 "There seems to be a mystery of some kind," he said, 
 after the old lady had sufficiently expressed her astonish-
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANyA. 113 
 
 ment ; "but I have bothered my mind over the matter to 
 no purpose. What puzzles me most is the fact that, not- 
 withstanding the woman's purpose of entering into the 
 conspiracy to abduct Mis Houeywood, she eTidently enter- 
 tains a deep affection for her. Her denunciations of Todd 
 me terribly earnest*' 
 
 "Did you get a look at this woman's face ?" 
 
 "Yes, and I am sure that I should know her again 
 under any circumstances of dress or situation. She turned 
 up her face once, while speaking to the man, but she was 
 then weeping, and I saw it only for an instant ; but I got 
 a second, and a better look, as I was pulling her companion 
 up to the top of the rock. Yes, I am certain I should 
 know her again. She has a handsome face. I hare sent 
 after her, in all directions, but hare no Tery vivid hope of 
 intercepting her." 
 
 " Perhaps Miss Honeywood could throw some light on 
 the matter. The woman may haTe been a former nurse, 
 who has formed bad associations. Evidently, the object 
 was to hold Miss Honeywood for a ransom." 
 
 " I think not. Such a thing could not succeed in this 
 country. We are not in Sicily, or Greece."" 
 
 " Oh, I think in some parts of this country such a thing 
 could be done with entire success in fact, in almost any 
 part It has been done repeatedly." 
 
 "I should not like to mention the subject to Miss 
 Honeywood," said Benham, replying to the suggestion of 
 his mother. " It would alarm her to know that she was 
 the object of such a scheme. But," he added, as the idea 
 occurred to him, " I shall tell the whole story to Mr. Wade. 
 He wffl doubtless be able to gire good advice in the matter." 
 
 A ring at the front-door bell interrupted him, and in 
 a few moments a card was brought to Mrs, Benham. She 
 glanced at it. 
 
 " Miss Pink," she said. " Is she in the parlor, Eliza ?
 
 114: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. She said, if you were at tea, she was in 
 no hurry, and could wait till you were through." 
 
 "Ask her to come in and take a cup of tea. She's a 
 good soul," continued Mrs. Benham, as the girl left the 
 room, "and for picking up news there is not her equal in 
 the State of Pennsylvania." 
 
 " She's horrid," said Benham ; " she tacked herself on 
 to me a few days ago, and I had almost to be rude to her 
 before I could get away." 
 
 " Hush ! here she comes," and, almost before the words 
 were out of Mrs. Benhain's mouth, Miss Pink entered the 
 room. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Benham ! Good-evening, Mr. Ben- 
 ham ! " she exclaimed, before either of the occupants of the 
 room had the opportunity to say a word. " I have just got 
 back from Harrisburg." 
 
 " Sit down, Miss Pink," interrupted Mrs. Benham, 
 while her son bowed without giving any verbal salutation, 
 " and take a cup of tea. It will refresh you after your 
 journey." 
 
 " Yes, thanks ! " sitting down as she spoke, and taking 
 the cup that John Benham passed to her. " As I was saying, 
 I went to Harrisburg this afternoon to see my sister, who 
 married Gotlieb Schillinger, the butcher. She's his second 
 wife, you know, and I'm afraid Minnie isn't happy not 
 that she told me in so many words, but it's easy to tell when 
 the worm of sorrow is eating at one's heart. Don't you 
 think so, Mr. Benham ?" 
 
 "Really, Miss Pink," answered Benham, with a good- 
 natured smile, " I can't say that I am sufficient of a zoolo- 
 gist to express an opinion of the habits of the 'worm of 
 sorrow,' or enough of a physician to know the symptoms 
 produced when it 'eats at the heart.' " 
 
 " Oh, you know what I mean ! You practical men have 
 no imagination ; the beauties of diction are nothing to you,
 
 OX THE SFSQUEHAXyA. 115 
 
 you are so very practical. Well, as I was saying, it re- 
 quires no adept at the knowledge of the signs of grief to 
 know when a woman is suffering. To add to Minnie's 
 troubles, her baby is a bottle baby, and it doesn't flourish. 
 It's apt to be the case with bottle" babies isn't it, Mr. Ben- 
 ham?" 
 
 "I don't even know what a 'bottle baby' is. I know 
 what a bottle fly is a blue-bottle fly. Is this a blue- or a 
 black-bottle baby?" 
 
 " Oh, you know what I mean ! " giggled Miss Pink, 
 shaking the corkscrew curls that hung low down on each 
 side of her face. "And, besides, if you don't, ask your 
 mother to tell you ! Well, to go on : Minnie is of course 
 worried over the baby. She got a wet-nurse there, it's out 
 at last, Mr. Benham ! But really she feels as if she couldn't 
 afford it. Twenty dollars a month, and two bottles of 
 porter a day ! It's enormous. I ? d go out myself as a wet- 
 nurse on such terms, if Well, as I was saying, that isn't 
 all. I was sure there was more and worse ; and at last 
 Minnie, bursting into tears, told me the whole story. Xow, 
 Mr. Benham, what do you think it was ?" 
 
 "I can't imagine," answered Benham, assuming a very 
 grave appearance " unless that, in view of the porter you 
 mentioned just now, the baby, from being a bottle baby, be- 
 came a two-bottle baby ! " 
 
 " No, it wasn't anything of the kind, and you know it ! 
 As I was telling you, Minnie is Schillinger's second wife. 
 He has all his first wife's clothes carefully put away and 
 scented with lavender and sage, and he wants Minnie to 
 use them, as she's just about the same size as the other one ; 
 but Minnie says no ; for, you see, the first Mrs. Schillinger 
 died of the consumption, and she's naturally afraid she'll 
 catch the disease if she wears the clothes, especially the 
 ones that have been slept in ; and that worries her. Do 
 you think there's any danger, Mr. Benham ? "
 
 116 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " Ah ! " he answered, unable to restrain a broad smile 
 that almost became a laugh, "you'll have to go to Dr. 
 Arndell for an answer to that question. My knowledge on 
 such subjects, as you will soon find out, is limited." 
 
 All this time Mrs. Benham had never said a word, but 
 was sitting at the head of the table, looking very grave and 
 somewhat disgusted with Miss Pink, and what she con- 
 sidered her indelicate questions to John. It must not be 
 considered that she regarded Miss Pink as her social equal. 
 Mrs. Benham was very stiff in the matter of family. Her 
 husband's, as we have seen, was an old one, and she was one 
 of the Randolphs of Virginia, and prided herself accord- 
 ingly. She had taken some notice of Miss Pink in a patron- 
 izing sort of way ; but the younger lady, while accepting 
 the notice, had declined to be patronized, and had at 
 once, so far as she could, put herself upon a footing of per- 
 fect equality with Mrs. Benham. Of course, she could 
 have been got rid of without any great difficulty had Mrs. 
 Benham thought the matter of sufficient importance and 
 been inclined to make an enemy. Being, however, of a 
 peaceable disposition, and indisposed to hurt anybody's 
 feelings, she had allowed Miss Pink not only to retain the 
 ground she had won, but to encroach, little by little, till 
 she had at last reached the point of considering herself an 
 intimate friend of the Benham family. In the long run, 
 aggression such as was that of Miss Pink will win in ninety 
 cases out of a hundred. 
 
 Miss Pink had rarely had such an excellent chance of 
 getting at John Benham as that of which she was now tak- 
 ing advantage. She had long secretly admired him, had 
 often stood unseen at her window when he passed, and had, 
 unseen, kissed her hand to him. She thought it not at all 
 outside of the range of probability that with opportunity 
 she could succeed in bringing him to her feet. True, she 
 was at least ten years older than he, being at the time she
 
 ON THE SUSQUZHAXNA. 117 
 
 is introduced to the reader on the shady side of thirty- 
 eight ; bnt she did not consider that an objection. On the 
 contrary, she had advanced the doctrine, and had adduced 
 from her reading many examples of its truth, or at least 
 of its expediency, that the wife should be much older 
 than the husband. " The happiest marriages,*' she was 
 wont to say, "are those in which the age is with the 
 woman. To be sure, if I were to many now, I should have 
 to mate with a mere boy, for I am just turned twenty-six, 
 a vear younger than Miss Honeywood ; and the very least 
 difference that is admissible is ten years. But I shall not 
 marry yet no, not yet," she would add, with a mournful 
 shake of the head, " although by adhering to my resolution 
 I make two loving hearts miserable I " 
 
 Miss Pink's besetting sin was vanity. She had not a 
 good feature in her face. Her long and sharp nose, her 
 wide mouth with its irregular and spotted teeth, her large, 
 washed-out blue eyes, her sallow complexion, made an en- 
 semble that was. altogether devoid of beauty, and yet she 
 spent a great part of every day in looking at herself in 
 the glass, and in twisting her countenance into all sorts 
 of possible shapes such as she thought would be exhibited 
 under the influences of the various emotions of which the 
 maiden heart is capable. There are very few women that 
 are good judges of their own faces. They are more likely 
 either to think themselves particularly plain or particularly 
 beautiful, instead of forming a dispassionate opinion. The 
 difference among them in this respect is not shown in the 
 judgment they give on the question of their personal 
 beauty only, but is likewise exhibited in all the affairs of 
 life with which they have anything to do. itiss Pink was 
 an optimist of the most decided kind. When she did not 
 express optimistic views, it was merely in order that she 
 might, by exciting opposition, have those that she really 
 entertained confirmed and strengthened. She was not
 
 118 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 even gifted with good sense, but she had few very vicious 
 traits. Notwithstanding this fact, however, she was one 
 of those women that always, without intending it, keep 
 those about them in hot water. 
 
 After finishing her story about her sister, she turned 
 her attention to drinking her tea, while Mrs. Benham and 
 her son preserved a discreet silence, fearing to ask a ques- 
 tion or to make a remark, lest it should serve as a starting- 
 point for a fresh display of volubility. But Miss Pink 
 required no one to act as starter to her, for she possessed 
 in an eminent degree that happy faculty of being able to 
 amuse one's self, that renders its possessor happy whether 
 in a palace or a prison. In a minute or two she had gulped 
 down her tea, and munched a piece of toast, and then she 
 was ready for renewed demonstrations. 
 
 "I was so interested in poor Sister Minnie," she went 
 on, " that I forgot all about what I really came for. Sister 
 hasn't my exuberance, my happy disposition, that enables 
 me to see a silver lining to every cloud. But although she 
 doesn't see it, I do, and that's something isn't it, Mr. Ben- 
 ham ? " She shook her corkscrew curls at this question, 
 and fashioned her face into an expression which, however 
 wide of the mark it might be, she intended should denote 
 a radiant frame of mind. 
 
 "I suppose it is something," answered Benham, rising 
 as he spoke and approaching the door, evidently with the 
 intention of making his escape. " I have some work to 
 do in my laboratory to night," he added, "and" 
 
 "Now do sit down, if only for a moment," she inter- 
 rupted, "for I must tell you the news, and it concerns you 
 too. Never mind about the 'silver lining.' This is of 
 much greater importance. Now listen ! " 
 
 Benham resumed his seat, and Miss Pink went on : 
 
 " I stopped in Mulberry Street to see my old pastor, Mr. 
 McClure. I come of a good old Scotch Covenanter stock,
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAKSA. 119 
 
 Mr. Benham. There's no Pennsylvania Dutch blood in 
 me, thank God ! And the one thing that I don't like 
 about this Tillage is. that there's no place of worship to 
 which I can go with a clear conscience. Of course, I do 
 go to hear Mr. Trevor ; but, for a woman who comes in a 
 straight fine from John Knox, that is pretty hard. Don't 
 yon think so, Mr. Benham ? " 
 
 Benham was beginning to lose his patience. "Xo, 
 Miss Pink," he said, " I do not I think any one might 
 well be satisfied with Mr. Trevor." 
 
 "Eren a descendant of John Knox," joined in Mrs. 
 Benham, a little stiffly. 
 
 " Well, well ! dear me ! How people do differ ! But 
 we won't quarrel about that will we, Mr. Benham ? How- 
 erer, as I was saying, I stopped in to see Mr. McClure, to 
 get a little spiritual consolation about the matter of poor 
 Sister Minnie, and, as good luck would have it, he had just 
 got back from the jaiL He's the chaplain of the jail, and 
 has prayers every afternoon on week-days, and twice on 
 Sunday. He was greatly fatigued, and I really pitied him, 
 for, as he told me, he had been wrestling with Satan, who 
 had taken up his abode in the soul of a poor man that had 
 just been brought in, and the fight was a severe one, last- 
 ing over two hours, and Mr. McClure not quite satisfied 
 with the result either. To wrestle with Satan for two 
 hours, and not gain the victory, is somewhat discouraging. 
 Don't yon think so, Mr. Benham ? " 
 
 " I certainly do, Miss Pink. I speak emphatically," he 
 added, "for I know the fact from my own experience." 
 
 " Ah ! but you are generally Yictorious, I'm sure," said 
 the lady, in her most encouraging tones. " You are so 
 strong, go self-confident, that you are not only capable of 
 whipping Satan in a fair fight, but yon would be able to 
 protect any weak soul with nothing but its own inherent 
 to rely on," and Miss Pink rolled her eyes, and
 
 120 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 clasped her hands together, and for a moment was silent, 
 lost in the contemplation of John Benham as her protector. 
 
 "He was sober, when he got to the jail," she went on, 
 suddenly " Todd, I mean, not Mr. McClure, but of course 
 he was sober too." 
 
 "Todd !" exclaimed Benham ; "did Mr. McClure talk 
 with him?" 
 
 " Talk with him ! yes, of course he did. That's what I 
 came to tell you about, but Sister Minnie put it all out of 
 my head. He swore to be revenged on you, for he said it 
 was through you that he was in jail." 
 
 "That's true!" said Benham, smiling grimly, "how- 
 ever false everything else he said may be." 
 
 "Yes, and I came to warn you against him. He's a 
 very wicked man, and Mr. McClure said he had never met 
 with such opposition no, not even when, during the Buck- 
 shot War, he had a Philadelphia rowdy to deal with." 
 
 "I'm much obliged to you," said Benham. "It was 
 kind of you to come ; but threatened men, you know, live 
 long. I shall try to protect others, as well as myself, 
 against Mr. Todd." 
 
 "Yes, and that reminds me : he said that you had no 
 right to interfere between him and Miss Honeywood. He 
 said he had rights that he'd make you respect, and that he 
 hadn't intended to do her any harm." 
 
 "He could scarcely have recovered from his drunken- 
 ness, I am afraid," said Benham, rising again, as though to 
 leave the room. 
 
 "But that was not all!" resumed Miss Pink; "he 
 said," rising also, and approaching Benham, and dropping 
 her voice to a whisper "he was her uncle !" Then she 
 started back, and tried to put on an expression of horror 
 and amazement at the magnitude of the statement. 
 
 "Miss Honeywood's uncle !" exclaimed Mrs. Benham, 
 while John Benham's face assumed a thoughtful look. He
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANKA. 121 
 
 was thinking of the Ionian he had seen that afternoon, of 
 her evident affection for Alana, and intimacy with Todd. 
 
 "Yes," repeated Miss Pink, feeling the importance of 
 the communication she had made, "Miss Honeywood's 
 uncle ; his exact words were, ' She's my niece, I guess, and 
 I've more rights with her than Mr. John Benham has.'" 
 
 " The man was certainly drunk," said Benham, recover- 
 ing his presence of mind. " You may take my word for it, 
 Miss Pink, that Todd is not Miss Honeywood's uncle. You 
 have only to look at the two to be sure of that." 
 
 " Yes, so I said to myself. Blood will tell, Mr. Benham. 
 Families, however, go down. Xow, here am I, only a hum- 
 ble member of society, and yet the blood of Eobert Bruce 
 rnns in my veins. What we have to do, is to do our duty 
 in the sphere of life to which we are called. Don't you 
 think so, Mr. Benham ? " 
 
 "Did he have anything further to reveal?" inquired 
 Benham, without seeming to notice Miss Pink's question. 
 "Did he say anything about his companions ?" 
 
 " Xo, I think not. Yes, he did," she added, hastily cor- 
 recting herself ; " he said that he had friends who would 
 look after his welfare ; that a writ of habeas corpus would 
 be applied for to-morrow, and that he would be out on bail 
 before another night had passed. He may have said a good 
 deal more, but that is all Mr. McClure told me." 
 
 "Nothing about a woman ?" 
 
 "Oh, no, that I'm sure of. Is there a woman mixed 
 up with them, Mr. Benham ? " 
 
 "I have reason to think that there is." 
 
 ''Then you know something about their plans, and 
 you'll be prepared for them ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think I know something about them. But 
 now," he continued, for he had no idea of letting Miss Pink 
 into his confidence, knowing full well that anything he 
 told her would be all over the village the next day, "I
 
 122 ON THE SUSQUEUANKA. 
 
 must bid you good-night ; I have a good deal to do before I 
 go to bed. Many thanks for your kindness in coming here, 
 to tell us about Todd and his threats." 
 
 " Have I really done you a service, Mr. Benham ? Oh, 
 I'm so glad ! " and Miss Pink clasped her hands together, 
 and looked ecstatically at the ceiling, as though there were 
 some one there whom she was addressing; "it's so little 
 that we women can do for men, that when anything comes 
 in my way by which I can oblige them, I'm always glad 
 to do it. And then, when it's a man like you, Mr. Benham, 
 it is a tenfold greater privilege." 
 
 "Thanks, you are very kind. Good-night, mother," 
 kissing her as he spoke ; "I shall be up late, but shall prob- 
 ably not see you before we meet at breakfast." 
 
 " Good-night, John. Don't sit up too late." 
 
 " You need not be afraid," he said to her, in a low 
 voice, not intended for Miss Pink's ears ; " all will be well 
 watched." Then he left the room, and soon afterward 
 Miss Pink, feeling that she had made an impression at last 
 that might be enduring, also took her departure.
 
 CHAPTER TT. 
 
 JOHX BEXHATf did not go to bed tffl daylight began to 
 break. He passed the greater part of the night in his 
 laboratory, working at the experiment that in the afternoon 
 had baffled him. At intervals he looked ont of one of the 
 windows, and again and again went down-stairs, and ont 
 of the front door, on tours of inspection around Miss 
 Honeywood's and bis own boose. AH was qniet, and the 
 watch that he had set on both buildings was vigilant. 
 Toward morning, in fact, just as the first faint streaks of 
 dawn were showing themselves over the top of Peters 
 Mountain, the little bead of metal in the cavity in the 
 piece of charcoal underwent the reaction he wanted. His 
 experiment had succeeded. He had discovered a method 
 by which iron made with anthracite coal could be ren- 
 dered as tough, as ductile, and in every way as good, for all 
 purposes for which iron is required, as that made with 
 charcoal. He owned a secret that had in it the power to 
 make him one of the richest men in the United States. 
 He was independent of partnerships, and could dictate his 
 own terms to the iron-manufacturers of Pennsylvania, where 
 alone anthracite 'coal is used in the process of smelting. 
 
 He had worked afl night, not without distractions. Be- 
 sides the anxiety he felt in regard to the safety of the threat- 
 ened houses, the one with fire, the other with the abduc- 
 tion of its mistress, his mind was occupied with the thought 
 that in the morning he should know whether or not it 
 was possible that Alans Honeywood would ever be his wife.
 
 124 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 He had determined that there should be no more suspense ; 
 that he would go to her, frankly tell her that he loved her, 
 and ask her to marry him. He would do this, not as the 
 prospective partner in a large and flourishing establishment, 
 not as the possessor of a method of manufacturing iron, 
 that was in itself a source of great wealth, but simply in 
 the capacity in which she had always known him, the 
 superintendent of her works, her hired servant. How she 
 would receive his declaration he did not know ; he could 
 not even conjecture, with any satisfaction to himself, what 
 her answer would be. Sometimes he had been bold enough 
 to think that she loved him. But these occasions were rare ; 
 for generally he had, when submitting the question to his 
 heart, received rather discouraging replies. She was always 
 considerate for him, always kind, always reliant upon him ; 
 but then she was his employer, and he had been a faithful 
 servant, and it was right that she should treat him with 
 kindness and respect and confidence, even if she did not 
 entertain the slightest glimmer of love for him. 
 
 But after his contest, if such it could be called, with 
 Alec Todd, and his signal discomfiture of that unpleasant 
 person, there had been a few moments during which he was 
 sure she loved him. There was a softening of her manner 
 toward him that she had never before exhibited, a tremu- 
 lousness, a depth of feeling in her voice that had never been 
 yet there for him, a look from her dark -gray eyes that never, 
 since he had known her, had she given to him. Still, even 
 these, he thought, after a short delirium of happiness, might 
 have been nothing more than manifestations of the grati- 
 tude she would naturally feel toward her deliverer. 
 
 After two hours of sound sleep he was up, but he felt 
 tmrefreshed, for the rest had not been sufficient. It was a 
 cool morning ; but he left the house without disturbing any 
 one, and went down to the river, to a quiet little nook, 
 resolved to take his morning's bath in the Susquehanna.
 
 O3F THE SUSQUEHAXXJL 125 
 
 The water was colder than be had thought for, but he swam 
 around in it till the bodily reaction that, with him, always 
 betokened mental exhilaration, began to make its appear- 
 ance. The stuffy feeling about his head was gone, his skin 
 was in a gtow, and, by the time he had walked briskly home, 
 he had the appetite of a cartrhorse for his breakfast, and a 
 frame of mind that was fit for any effort in any direction 
 that was likely to be demanded of him. 
 
 He finished his breakfast without the usual conversa- 
 tion with his mother relative to the work and other doings 
 of the day. She forbore to ask questions, or to offer sug- 
 gestions, for she knew what was on his mind, to the exclu- 
 sion of every other subject, and she did not desire to run 
 the risk of disturbing any course of thought upon which 
 be might hare entered. On his meeting with her at the 
 breakfast-table he had told her that at last his experiment 
 had succeeded, and had hinted at the prospect of wealth 
 and influence thereby opened to him. Then, after her con- 
 gratulations, a few words had been said in regard to the 
 quiet night they had passed, notwithstanding the conspir- 
 acy that had been formed to injure them an immunity 
 that, as Benham laughingly suggested, was mainly, if not 
 altogether, due to the fact that the two chief conspirators 
 were in jafl. 
 
 He was just about to make his usual morning tour of 
 the works, his horse being at the door, when Mr. Wade was 
 announced. He was a little put out by the visit, for it de- 
 ranged his plans, and might even altogether suspend their 
 execution for that day at least The round of 
 that he made every day, immediately after 
 tended to all the departments of the business : forge, iron- 
 
 within the range of his visits, Then he generally 
 meet Alana in her office, prepared to give 
 ides of the rfato of the works in all their
 
 126 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Now, he had heard her say that she intended going to 
 Harrisburg that day, and as the train that she would prob- 
 ably take left the works at 10.5, and as it was now half- 
 past eight, there was very little time to devote to Mr. Wade. 
 Indeed, unless his business was connected with the works, 
 in which case he should feel bound to attend to it, he 
 would not do much more than to wish Mr. Wade a good- 
 morning, before excusing himself from further conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 But Mr. Wade's business was important. He had heard 
 of Benham's second adventure, and he had come to the 
 fountain-head for the knowledge of it that he desired to 
 get. 
 
 " I am afraid," said Benham, looking nervously at his 
 watch, " that I have not time to tell you the particulars as 
 fully as I would like. I must go at once to the Colerain 
 iron-mine, for there's been an irruption of water there that 
 the foreman tells me will be a source of great trouble and 
 delay ; and then I have the Paxton coal-mine to look at, 
 and then the forge to go through, and then the several fore- 
 men to confer with, and " 
 
 " Say no more," exclaimed Mr. Wade, laughing. "I 
 won't keep you a minute. I have my horse, and if you've 
 no objection I'll ride with you and we can carry on our 
 conversation while we are going from one place to the 
 other. By the by," as the two gentlemen left the house, 
 and were about mounting their horses, " what do you 
 think of my iron-mine ? I wish you would make a thorough 
 inspection of it. You that is, Miss Honeywood ought 
 to have it, for it's worth more to her than it is to any one 
 else." 
 
 "We were talking about it yesterday," said Benham, as 
 he swung himself into the saddle. " I have already advised 
 her to purchase it._ I took the opportunity a few days ago 
 of examining it thoroughly, It is not a purchaser's busi-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 127 
 
 ness," he continued, laughing, " to enhance the value of 
 property offered him ; hut I agree with you, that it natu- 
 rally belongs to the Susquehanna Iron- Works. 7 * 
 
 " There is only one way hy which I can do business of 
 this kind with Miss Honeywood, and that is to have the 
 mine appraised by three disinterested but competent per- 
 sons. My relations with her are such as to prevent bar- 
 gaining. Let her appoint an appraiser, I will appoint 
 another, and these two will select a third. They shall fix 
 the price, and for that sum I will sell it" 
 
 "That is fair, and I have no doubt that she will accept 
 your proposition." 
 
 "Very well ! Now, tell me all about this adventure of 
 yours last evening. It interests me more than you suppose. 
 You have had it in your power twice to be of great service 
 to Miss Honeywood ; for I am inclined to think that this 
 scheme that you appear to have disarranged concerned her 
 much more than it did any of the rest of us. Besides, I 
 had a visit this morning from Miss Pink, who gave me 
 what information she picked up yesterday in Harrisburg." 
 
 Benham smiled at this last piece of intelligence. It 
 was, however, no more than was to have been expected. 
 Miss Pink was not only the village postmistress, but she 
 was the circulator of intelligence on her own account as 
 welL He said nothing, however, about that lady, not even 
 telling Mr. Wade that she had previously retailed her news 
 to him. He did not care to talk about Alana with any- 
 body just then more than could be helped. However, he 
 saw the advantage to the cause of justice of placing before 
 Mr. Wade all that he had acquired relative to the con- 
 spiracy that he believed existed to abduct Miss Honeywood, 
 and therefore he gave him all the details of his adventure 
 of the evening before. 
 
 During the recital Mr. Wade asked -no questions, pre- 
 ferring to let Benham who was a very direct and concise
 
 128 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 speaker, never using an unnecessary word, or wandering 
 from the point to communicate his knowledge in his own 
 way. When the story was ended, with the announcement 
 that the man was in the Dauphin County Jail, Mr. Wade 
 gave a sigh, which was probably meant to be expressive of 
 the satisfaction he experienced at this happy termination, 
 for the present at least, of the affair that had come so near 
 ending in a much more deplorable way. 
 
 " Do you think," he said, after he had reflected several 
 minutes upon the situation " do you think that you would 
 know that woman again ? " 
 
 " That would depend upon how she was dressed. I 
 have a very clear mental impression of her appearance, as 
 she looked yesterday. But, if I were to see her without 
 a bonnet, her hair arranged differently, and her clothing 
 otherwise changed, I might not know her. The variations 
 in women's dresses are so great that it is easier for them 
 than for men to escape recognition." 
 
 " Did she speak properly use good English, I mean ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so." 
 
 "And the man ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Now tell me, Mr. Benham, does the woman resemble 
 any person you have ever seen ? " 
 
 "Yes. She looks like Todd. She is a refined likeness 
 of Todd. She held herself like a lady, and spoke like one." 
 
 " Looks like Todd ! That's just what I thought. Now, 
 try and recall all the other faces you have ever seen. Of 
 course you can't do that, but put your whole mental force 
 on the subject. Did you ever see any other person that 
 this woman resembled ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so ; but I am not so sure on this point 
 as I am on the other." 
 
 "Who is that person?" 
 
 "That," said Benham, "I do not think I ought to tell.
 
 OK THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 129 
 
 It is, perhaps, more a suspicion than a fact with me, and 
 therefore I do not feel as though I ought to express myself 
 more decidedly." 
 
 " Well, I suppose you are right You're a sensible fel- 
 low, Benham. Your head is always level. I wish I could 
 take you into my confidence in this matter. There's a great 
 deal in it, and I hare no doubt that, if we felt equally free 
 to talk to each other, we should find that we are thinking 
 in the same direction. I really feel as though I wanted 
 advice. I should like, of all things, to confer with you, but 
 as things now are I do not feel at liberty to do so. Per- 
 haps, however, in a day or two, I may have more freedom. 
 On one point I am sure you are with me. You would not 
 like any harm to come to Miss Honeywood. " 
 
 "I would rather it should come to me," answered Ben- 
 ham, quietly. 
 
 "I believe you ! There's no mistaking you, Benham ; 
 you're as true as steel I wish she'd get married; then 
 she'd have a natural protector." 
 
 Benham made no reply to this last remark of his com- 
 panion. They were then approaching the Colerain mine, 
 which was situated at the upper end of the ravine in which 
 Todd's house stood. As they came near, they saw that 
 many of the men that ought to have been at work were 
 lounging about the mouth of the mine, and occasionally 
 uttering derisive cries when a car-load of ore was brought 
 np to the surface, or when the foreman made his appear- 
 ance. Benham at once suspected that a strike was in pro- 
 cess of organization, and his mind at once jumped to the 
 conclusion that Todd had been meddling with these men 
 in like manner as he had with the brick-layers. When 
 they were within fifty yards of the mine, the foreman saw 
 them, and at once came forward to meet them. 
 
 "Whafs the matter, Mr. Schettler?" inquired Ben- 
 ham ; " why are not these men at work ? "
 
 130 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 ""Well, sir, the fact is, that they refuse to obey my or- 
 ders. It's all on account of me, sir." 
 
 "How many of them are in this ?" 
 
 "Only about twenty out of the seventy-five." 
 
 "Who is the leader?" 
 
 "A Welshman, named Jones." 
 
 Benham at once rode up to where the strikers were con- 
 gregated, some of them sitting on logs, others lolling on 
 the ground, but the majority of them walking about, and 
 talking with the men not in the strike, that came up from 
 the mine with the loads of ore. 
 
 " Jones," said Benham, " I want to speak with you." 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 " Is Jones here ? " 
 
 "Yes," said a gruff voice, "Jones is here, but if you 
 want to speak to him you can come to him as well as he 
 can come to you, and a dom sight better ! " 
 
 " That's easily done ! " said Benham, dismounting, and 
 approaching the man, who stood a little apart from the 
 rest, talking energetically to a man that had just come out 
 of the mine. " Now," he continued, as he stood in front of 
 Jones, a big, burly, red-headed fellow, " what's the mean- 
 ing of this?" 
 
 "The meaning of it is that we won't work under a 
 dommed Dutchman no longer that's what it means, Mr. 
 Benham." 
 
 "Very well, you are your own judges of the matter, but 
 you can't stay here to interfere with these men that will 
 work. Now, men," he went on, addressing the loiterers, 
 " those of you that wish to quit work, come down at once to 
 my office and be paid off. Mr. Schettler, give me these 
 men's names. They are discharged, unless they go to work 
 again within five minutes." 
 
 "Well," said Jones, "that's spunky talk, Mr. Benham, 
 and I think you'll find that you're going further than your
 
 OS THE SCSQCEHAXKA. 131 
 
 rope win allow. As for me, Tm going to stay here as long 
 as I like, and not onoof is going to woik tffl Akc Todd's 
 made foreman.* 1 
 
 -Akc Todd is in jafl, and he's likely to stay there tffl 
 he goes to the penitentiary." 
 
 "Todd in jail! And what put him in jafl ? 
 
 "His own crimes. He nearly killed his wife, and be 
 tried to in jure the mistress. : 
 
 "When was all that ? Yon see we don't know, tffl the 
 next day, and sometimes not then, what takes place at the 
 
 "It was jLUJLiJij afternoon. Xow. Jones, yon hare a 
 wife and children. Hare yon forgotten the time that your 
 baby fell into the wash-kettle, and nearly got scalded to 
 death, and how the miriirm came here, and took your 
 little one in her arms to her own home, and nursed it. night 
 as well ? Are yon the man to want to 
 the scoundrel who threatened to cnt off one of 
 deal she put him in charge of this mine ? 
 your baby hare been but for her? Jones, 
 of yon. I thought you were a man. 7 * 
 "And so I amamon,Mr. Be^am," cried Jones, sob- 
 bing like a child- I didn't know that the nusbm was 
 in it. My God, Mr. Benham ! I wouldn't do anything to 
 hnrt 'the* mistress* ; ond if era- 1 lay my hands" on Todd 
 itTI be a bod day for him yes, a Terra bod day ! You're 
 right, Mr. Benham: if it hadn't been for the mistress, 
 God bless her, my little Ally would hare been in her grave. 
 Come, nen !""he continued, turning to the strikers, who 
 were gathered together at a little distance, awaiting the 
 result of the interview; "Todd's in jafl for licking his 
 wife, and trying to lick the mistress. Yon wouldn't work 
 under a mon that would hurt the mistress? Ko, not a 
 dom one of j* I" as the men responded in emphatic nega- 
 tm; "then go Dae* to work, the strike's orer."
 
 132 ON THE SUSQUEHAKtfA. 
 
 " Thank you, Jones," said Benham, holding out his 
 hand, which the big, lumbering fellow grasped and shook 
 with a will ; " I thought you wouldn't go against the mis- 
 tress. Now, can you tell me what started this affair ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, Todd was here yesterday morning, and he 
 said you were going to get rid of us as soon as you could, 
 and put in a lot of Dutchmen at lower wages, He told us 
 that if he was made foreman, he could stop it, and that all 
 we had to do was to strike, and you'd give in at once." 
 
 " I thought he was the instigator. Of course he lied. 
 There has never been the slightest intention of discharging 
 any one of you, or of lowering your wages. If you have 
 any cause of complaint against Mr. Schettler, all you have 
 to do is to come to me with it frankly, and I'll inquire into 
 it ; and if you are right I'll make matters straight." 
 
 " I say, Mr. Benham," said the man, coming up close 
 to Benham and speaking in as low a tone of voice as he 
 was capable of producing from a vocal apparatus unaccus- 
 tomed to such an exercise, " I hope you won't say aught 
 of this to the mistress. I wouldn't like her to know that 
 that after all she did for my little Ally, that I was bad 
 enough to go against her. You see, sir, I never thought 
 it was against her I was going. I only thought of Mr. 
 Schettler, and the story that Todd told." 
 
 " I'll not tell her that you were in it, Jones. It would 
 hurt her feelings very much if she thought you would do 
 anything to injure her. I know she regards you as a 
 friend. Now get to work. You'll not hear of this again 
 to your disadvantage. Come, Mr. Schettler, I'm ready to 
 talk with you about opening that north gallery a little 
 further, and getting that water out." 
 
 After his conference with the foreman, Benham re- 
 joined Mr. Wade, who had remained an attentive observer of 
 what had taken place, and whose admiration of the superin- 
 tendent's method of dealing with the men was unbounded.
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXSTA. 133 
 
 " Yon most hare a good deal of knowledge of human 
 nature, my friend," he said. "Yon could twist those fel- 
 lows, any one of whom could make mince-meat of yon in 
 a minute, around your finger if yon wished to. I don't 
 know what Miss Honeywood would do without yon. 71 
 
 " I know them pretty well," said Benham, with a smile. 
 ''They're a good lot, hut horribly ignorant, and easily 
 imposed upon by such a scoundrel as Todd. Xow, Mr. 
 Wade," he continued, after they had turned off to the 
 north on their way to the Paxton mine, only a few hun- 
 dred yards distant, " what is the meaning of all this ? 1 
 must tell you that I too have had a visit from Miss Pink, 
 and that she spoke of things that, taken in conjunction 
 with what I already know, have caused me a good deal of 
 anxious thought. n 
 
 "Ah ! HUB Fink saw you also, and tcld yon doubtless 
 all that she told me. By this time, she's told everybody 
 that has called at the post-office. n 
 
 " Yes. and she told me among other matters that this 
 fellow, Todd, declared to Mr. McClure that he was Miss 
 Honeywood's uncle." 
 
 "Yes, so I understand," remarked Mr. Wade, dryly. 
 
 "Of course, the rascal lied." 
 
 " I don't know ; I am not sufficiently acquainted with 
 Miss Honeywood's family to be enabled to express an 
 opinion. He may be, however. Families get awfully scat- 
 tered and run down in this country." 
 
 " Why should there be this conspiracy to abduct Miss 
 Honeywood, and who are the man and the woman I dis- 
 turbed hatching their plans at * Washington's Throne ' ? * 
 
 " Xow, my dear Benham, be reasonable ! Surely you 
 know more of that matter than I do. Yon heard them 
 talk, you saw them both, you dragged the man all the way 
 to the village. If you couldn't find out who they are, how 
 the devil can I?"
 
 134: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "True, but it appears to me that -we ought to be doing 
 something to circumvent these scoundrels. It will not 
 do for us to remain quiet while they carry out their rile 
 schemes." 
 
 " My dear boy, it appears to me that we can, for the 
 present at least, be satisfied with what has been done ; with 
 what you have done, in fact. You have put two of them 
 in jail, and while they are there the Susquehanna Iron- 
 Works and its inhabitants are safe from their depredations." 
 
 " They may have accomplices who are not yet caught." 
 
 " I think not. If there had been others, you would 
 have heard some mention of them. No, depend upon it, 
 there are only Todd, the other fellow, and the woman." 
 
 " I suppose I shall have to go to Ilarrisburg, to-day or 
 to-morrow, to appear as a witness." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose they will have their examination to- 
 morrow morning, and that they will then be committed 
 for trial, or released on bail. It would be an outrage to 
 release them on bail." 
 
 " That is a matter that may safely be left to Judge 
 Mierson. It is entirely discretionary with him, and he is 
 not disposed to show undue leniency to such fellows. I 
 shall go down myself this morning and try to have an in- 
 terview with them." 
 
 Everything was found in order at the Paxton mine, and 
 then the two gentlemen turned toward the forge. They 
 rode the rest of the way in comparative silence, and at a 
 fork in the road Mr. Wade turned off to go to his tower. 
 Benham inspected the furnace, and was then ready to 
 make his report to Alana. His hour had come in a few 
 minutes he would know his fate. What would he not have 
 given if those minutes had passed, and he knew that Alana 
 was his promised wife ! With a firm step, but with a heart 
 that beat many pulses quicker than was natural to it even 
 in times of great excitement, he crossed the lawn and was
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXJL 135 
 
 about to open the door that led into Miss Honeywood's 
 office, when a sudden thought struck him, and he retraced 
 his steps to his office. 
 
 There he wrote a letter to Messrs. Caminings, Jansen 
 and Jones, thanking them for their offer, but respectfully 
 declining it, giving as his reason that he had made a dis- 
 covery that would, he thought, revolutionize the process of 
 iron-manufacture, and that he desired to devote all his time 
 to this matter. 
 
 " Now," he said, " I feel more comfortable." 

 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 ALANA was seated at her usual place at the desk, the 
 top of which was covered with papers. She had passed a 
 restless night, and her face gave evidence of the fact. She 
 rose, as Benham entered the room, and, advancing toward 
 him, held out her hand. 
 
 "My friend," she said, "I was too much overcome yes- 
 terday to thank you properly for your timely kindness to 
 me. I shall never forget what you, did for me. It would 
 have been a good deal had your interference been accidental, 
 but it showed such thoughtfulness for my welfare that it 
 has sunk deeply into my heart." 
 
 Alana was an emotional woman. She showed what she 
 felt, and the tears started to her eyes, as in these few words 
 she thanked her rescuer. 
 
 As for Benham, he was quite unprepared for this dem- 
 onstration. He had entered the room with his note-book 
 in his hand, and with his thoughts at the moment on the 
 subjects he would have to bring to Miss Honey wood's atten- 
 tion. Her words, and actions, and exhibition of passion, 
 caused a revulsion of feeling, and immediately determined 
 him to drop the business part of his visit, and to plunge at 
 once into the matter that was nearest his heart. He held 
 her hand in his for a moment, and then, with his eyes 
 fixed on hers, he raised it to his lips. The action did not 
 appear to astonish her. She made a feeble, effort to with- 
 draw her hand, but he held it firmly in his, and she allowed 
 it to remain. She knew instinctively what was coming ;
 
 OS THE SC5QCEHJL5T5TJL 137 
 
 die had seen it in the look he had ghen her; die felt 
 already the sweet ties of the happy bondage that every 
 light-minded woman feefewhen she natty lora. Forone 
 e gate herself np to the thoughts that 
 
 withdrawing her hand, she tamed away, and, going to the 
 r, looked, art at the fawning wall of monntai&s that 
 
 .''... ''. ~ -. L . -i- - ' . . 
 For a moment, but only for a 
 what to do ; then, with the 
 that hi* lore gave him that all inequality he- 
 I her was gone, he walked to the window and 
 genttylaid his hand on her ahonldeE. She did not more 
 or eien torn her faw toward him, but he felt her form 
 and he aw a tear fall on the window-all before him. 
 he aid it was the first time in afl his fife 
 that he had eiw called her by her fin* name * -I hare lowed 
 you a long while, dear; einer ance I came hoe, I flunk, 
 I hai? tried to bnry the feeling in my heert, but I can do 
 aonolonger. I am not m strong as I thought ; it has got 
 the better of me, and for weal or far woe I nuKt speak 
 now. Win yon hear 
 Shedidn 
 
 the tears that she did 
 not, trickled through her fingera. 
 to ay to Mm? She hwed him, towed him wiih aD her 
 ; but how eonld die permit herself, she a 
 to become the promised wife of a man 
 i? Wo, ahe loied him too well to bring 
 ntnhiihonae, and erery moment that Ae al- 
 tobe deomcdwacan in jmry to him. StiU,he 
 not blind, he w not a fool, he must aee that
 
 138 ON THE SUSQUEHANtfA; 
 
 him. How, then, could she reconcile the words she felt she 
 must speak, with the evidences of her emotion, so clear and 
 distinct that he could not fail to perceive and to under- 
 stand them ? It was impossible. If she told him that she 
 did not love him, it would be a lie. She could not utter 
 it ; she felt that the falsehood would stick in her throat. 
 And yet to say that she loved him, but could not marry 
 him, would be to make him call for an explanation that she 
 was certain she could not give. Not now, at least. She 
 caught at the hope that there might be a time when she 
 could explain. It might be, too, that his love was so strong 
 that he would be willing to take her to his heart notwith- 
 standing the stain upon her birth. She would live on that 
 hope. Yes, he might speak, and she would speak too, and 
 he should know that if she could not promise to be his wife 
 the fault was not hers. It would be hard if she, an inno- 
 cent person, should have to suffer to that extent for the 
 sins of others. She had tried to do her duty in all the 
 relations of life in which she had been placed, and yet this 
 load of shame that others had incurred fell upon her 
 shoulders, oh ! so heavily, that she felt as though she could 
 not bear it all through her life. Yes, he should, if he 
 pleased, tell her that he loved her, and she would listen 
 with eager ears to the gracious words that might fall from 
 his lips. There might be happiness for them both in the 
 consciousness that they loved each other ; happiness, too, in 
 the increased freedom of association that the knowledge 
 would give, and then, after a while, when she knew his 
 inmost soul better than she knew it now, she would tell 
 him all. She was timid ; she had ever since her father's 
 death been disposed to brood over the position in which she 
 found herself, and to magnify the effect that a knowledge 
 of it would cause in others, till she had become morbid and 
 fearful to a degree that interfered with the force and the 
 correctness of her judgment.
 
 OX THE SCSQUEHAXSfA. 139 
 
 Heloredher! He had told her that. AH her doubts, 
 aH her fears, on that point, were at an end. There was a 
 world of thought for her in the few words he had spoken ; 
 and yet, he had asked her if he might say more, and she 
 had not answered him, bat had stood there, with her back 
 turned to him, and her hands coTering her face. Still, he 
 mrt know what her answer would be if she could speak. 
 He must know that, if she 'did not lore him, she would have 
 spoken long ago, with a coldness and decision that would 
 nave told him what she thought Still, it was not kind 
 for her to give him only silence for an answer, when her 
 heart was overflowing with love for him. 
 
 A woman with a declaration of love ringing in her ears 
 n, in one respect, like a drowning person. Thoughts go 
 through her brain with marvelous rapidity, just as the 
 man who has gone down for the third and last time, never 
 to come up again alive, unless pulled up by some power 
 not his own, has all the events of his life pass as though in 
 procession before his mental vision. All this, that it has 
 taken the reader several minutes to go through with, 
 flashed through her brain in a tenth part of the time, and 
 then, when she arrived at the conclusion that she ought 
 to give him an answer, she dropped her hands from before 
 her face, and, turning round, looked at him for an instant 
 only ; and then she was in his arms, and clasped to his 
 heart 
 
 " I did not know that you loved me,* she said, smiling 
 through the tears that John Benham kissed from her eyes. 
 "How should I ? You were always so cold and formal 
 with me." 
 
 " And yet I loved you all the time," said Benham, stffl 
 holding her head pressed to his breast. " Ton might have 
 known, dear, from that very coldness, that I had something 
 toconceaL" 
 
 "But why should you wish to conceal it? Think how
 
 14:0 OF THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 happy we miglit have been, all these years, in the knowl- 
 edge that we loved each other ! " 
 
 " I thought you might misunderstand me. I was in a 
 subordinate position. It might have seemed to you imper- 
 tinent for the superintendent of the Susquehanna Iron- 
 Works to fall in love with their mistress." 
 
 "And what," she inquired, raising her large gray eyes 
 to his, and with a grave smile on her face "what made 
 you think that I had changed ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; something, I can not tell what. It 
 may have been a look, it may have been a word, it may 
 only have been an inflection of your voice, it may only have 
 been an inspiration, an instinct, with nothing at all for 
 its foundation but the promptings of my own heart. Yes- 
 terday I was in despair ; to-day I had hope, and then, when 
 you spoke to me just now and thanked me with tears in 
 your dear eyes for the work of yesterday, I felt sure that 
 the time had come for me to unburden my heart." 
 
 " You would have got the same answer if you had spoken 
 years ago. I have loved you as long as you have loved 
 me, only I could not tell you what was in my heart. You 
 might have seen it, though ; sometimes I thought you did 
 see it ; but then you at once became so reserved and formal, 
 that I came to the conclusion that after all you were simply 
 trying to do your duty as the superintendent, and that love 
 for me never entered your mind." 
 
 "Ah, dear, you will find out, when you know me better, 
 what a proud man I am ! But, now tell me, don't put me 
 off with what has been. I want to know that you love me 
 now ; that you love me as fondly as I love you ; that I am 
 henceforth to be first in your heart for evermore ; that you 
 are my own dear Alana, soon, very soon, to be my wife ; 
 that" 
 
 A loud knock at the door interrupted him. It does not 
 take long under such a circumstance for lovers to separate.
 
 OX THE STSQUEHAXXA. 141 
 
 I hare known a young man to be sitting on a sofa with his 
 Dnlcinea's head resting on his manly breast, his arms around 
 her, and words of the most devoted affection, that one would 
 have thought must have required the concentrated effort of 
 his whole mind, flowing from his lips, and yet, on the sud- 
 den opening of the door, the young woman would be found 
 to be reading a book, and the young man would be seen to 
 be critically studying a picture hanging on the opposite 
 walL The movements were not quite so rapid as these, in 
 the case of Benham and Alana ; but when, in answer to the 
 knock, she said, " Come in,"' Mr. Wade found her seated at 
 her desk, and John Benham standing at one end of it, with 
 his note-book in his hand, looking as impassive as though 
 the whole of his visit had been devoted to the giving of 
 statistics of the iron-product for the past month. Alana's 
 face, had it been carefully studied, would have shown signs 
 of emotional disturbance, but no one apparently could have 
 listened more attentively to the reading of the superintend- 
 ent's notes than she was listening when Mr. Wade opened 
 the door. 
 
 " I came," he said, not noticing that anything unusual 
 had occurred, " to say thai I have just received a telegram 
 from Harrisburg, which requires me to leave here on the 
 next train. If you are going down, Alana, we might go 
 together. I have a little business with you which we could 
 go through with in the twenty minutes we shall be on the 
 train. It will be here in ten minutes, and we've no time to 
 spare." 
 
 '* Then, Mr. Benham,"' said Alana, turning to the su- 
 perintendent ; "I shall have to defer hearing your report 
 till I come back. Will you kindly come over this evening ? 
 I shall be quite alone." She gave him a look, as she spoke, 
 which John thoroughly understood. 
 
 "Yes," he answered ; "I wOl come over after tea." 
 
 " Won't yon take tea with me ? " inquired Alana, She
 
 142 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 felt that she wanted him now to be always with her. 
 " You have not sat at my table since your mother left me, 
 and only once the whole time she was here," she added, 
 with a smile. 
 
 "Thanks ! I will come to tea." 
 
 " Then we will finish our business. Now I am afraid 
 I shall have to ask you to excuse me while I get ready to 
 go to Harrisburg. Good-by." She held out her hand to 
 him as she spoke, while a happy smile played over her face, 
 and then she was gone. 
 
 " She feels grateful to you, Benham," said Mr. Wade, 
 "for your rescue of her from that scoundrel Todd, yester- 
 day. I have never known her so gracious. She's a lovely 
 woman, but she's out of place here ; or rather I should say 
 wasted. She ought to be married. She's just the woman 
 to make a good man happy." 
 
 "Yes, I think she is." 
 
 " There's Mr. Trevor ; he's dead in love with her. But, 
 though she likes him as a friend, she would not marry him, 
 I'm sure." 
 
 "No, I don't think she would." 
 
 "Well, if such an unobservant man of women as you 
 are can see that, she must have made it very apparent." 
 
 "She's so kind to everybody that she's liable to be mis- 
 understood, perhaps. But I think she makes it very clear 
 that, though she likes Mr. Trevor as a friend, she does not 
 love him." 
 
 "Yes, you're right. Then there's the doctor. Now, I 
 have sometimes thought that she liked him better than any 
 one else, but latterly I have changed my mind. He wor- 
 ships the ground that she walks on." 
 
 "He's a good fellow." 
 
 " Yes, he's a good fellow ; but she'd never marry a man 
 because he's a good fellow. She's a woman, Benham, who 
 is prepared to go through fire and water for the man she
 
 OX THE SCSQCEHAXXA. 143 
 
 may lore, but she would demand just as great a degree of 
 devotion from him. K ow, as you must have seen, there's 
 nothing heroic about either Mr. Trevor or Dr. ArndeD, 
 inch she may like them, she'd 
 HI ten yon what it is, Benham: if 
 man, you'd be the one for her; but 
 youTl die an old bachelor, I suppose," 
 
 "You think I am heroic?" aid Benham, interroga- 
 tively, and smiling at the ame time. 
 
 "I think yon have the stuff in yon of which heroes are 
 made, and that, if you had the chance, you'd be a hero. 
 You're come pretty near it already.- 1 
 
 "Come, Mr. Wade, 29 aid Alana, entering the room at- 
 tired for her journey. * We have only three minutes in 
 which to reach the train." She looked very pretty in the 
 little round hat with its eagle-feather that she had on her 
 head, and that did not hide the luxuriant tresses of her 
 dark-brown hair. Again she held out her hand to Benham. 
 This time it was daintily gloved, and he pressed it lovingly 
 in his. " I shall expect you to tea this evening. Good-bv."" 
 
 "Good-by, my darling," he whispered, as Mr. Wade 
 went out of the room before her. " God bkss you ! ' 
 
 She was gone, and he went over to the forge to his daily 
 duties, his head in a whirl of delight that made him fed 
 as though he was walking on air. He tried to attend to 
 the work before him ; he apparently heard the statements 
 of the foremen of the several gangs of men, and he made 
 answers that seemed to them to be correct ; but, if they were, 
 he did not know it at the time. The force of routine, he 
 thought, as the matter afterward came into his mind, was 
 
 and without his consciousness fM*ip^g in the acts. 
 How could he do otherwise when his whole mind w 
 with the sense of the great happiness that had come 
 him! 
 
 T
 
 144 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 At dinner lie informed his mother of what he had done, 
 and the result thereof. 
 
 " I told you how it would be ! " said Mrs. Benham, kiss- 
 ing him in her enthusiasm and self-satisfaction with the 
 realization of her prediction. "I knew she liked you. 
 Now, my dear boy, you will be very happy. Of course, you 
 will not now accept the partnership offered you." 
 
 "No, I declined it this morning before I saw Alana, I 
 did not want to go to her in any other capacity than as the 
 superintendent of her works. As such she has known me for 
 many years, and as such I wanted her to accept or reject me." 
 
 "What a chivalrous fellow you are, John!" said his 
 mother, looking at him fondly. 
 
 " I don't know about that. I am as well off now in this 
 world's goods as she, but then I gained that while in her 
 service. I intend to give her a half-interest in my discov- 
 ery, for it was to a great extent through the facilities her 
 works afforded me, and during time that belonged to her, 
 that I was able to conduct my experiments. It will give 
 us all the wealth we shall need." 
 
 "Of course, you have as yet come to no understanding 
 as to the time when you will be married ? " 
 
 "No, she had to go to Harrisburg," he answered, with 
 a smile, "and there was not sufficient time for us to discuss 
 that point. I am going to take tea with her this evening, 
 and I shall urge a speedy marriage. I am alarmed for her, 
 after the doings of yesterday, and I think I can protect her 
 better if I am her husband as well as the superintendent of 
 her works. I haven't told you that there was the begin- 
 ning of a strike this morning at the Colerain mine, set on 
 foot by that villain Todd, and that I arrived there just in 
 time to stop it." 
 
 Then lie informed his mother of what had occurred at 
 the mine, and how the incipient disturbance had been sub- 
 dued by the mere mention of Alana's name.
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANXA. 145 
 
 " I am sure," he continued, after his mother had ex- 
 her sense of his conduct on the occasion in ques- 
 tion, " that there is a conspiracy composed of at least three 
 persons, the object of which is to do harm to Alana, proba- 
 bly for the ultimate purpose of pecuniary gain. Todd, and 
 the woman who was at the rock on the mountain yesterday, 
 and of whom unfortunately we have not succeeded in find- 
 ing a trace, are apparently the tools of the fellow whom I 
 captured. As you will remember, he would not give his 
 name to me, nor supply any information of himself what- 
 ever. I believe he told Squire McElroy that his name was 
 'Thomas Johnson/ but this is probably assumed. Xow, 
 it appears to me that it would be a monstrous error to keep 
 Alana in ignorance of the scheme against her. Hitherto I 
 have had no right to interfere. Mr. Wade is her counsel, 
 and in some sense her guardian, being the co-executor with 
 herself of her father's wilL He is fully acquainted with 
 all that I know, except the one fact that the woman bears 
 some resemblance to Alana a circumstance that I have 
 not before mentioned to you." 
 
 " The woman looks like Alana ! How is that ? " 
 
 " Ah ! that I do not know. Probably it is accidental. 
 For a time I did not recognize the resemblance, but last 
 night, while I was at work, it came to me. It is not a 
 strong likeness, and her features are coarser than Alana's, 
 but there is a similarity in form and in expression. The 
 woman is very much like Todd like enough to be his sis- 
 ter : probably she is his sister. Now, you will recollect 
 that Miss Pink told us last night that Todd declared that 
 he is Alana's uncle. If this is true, and the woman is 
 Todd's sister, then this same woman is either Alana's aunt 
 or her mother." 
 
 " She can not be her mother ! " 
 
 . for, as I have always understood, her mother died 
 when Alana was an infant."
 
 146 OX THE SDSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " Yet you remember that, for a long time after Mr. 
 Honeywood's death, advertisements were kept in the news- 
 papers asking for information in regard to a woman, named 
 Sarah Mullin, who in the year 1855 made, in Philadelphia, 
 the acquaintance of Mr. Francis Honeywood. I have the 
 paper here," continued Mrs. Benham, going to a desk and 
 taking from it a newspaper carefully folded. "Yes," as 
 she looked through the columns, and after a little time 
 found what she wanted, "here it is. She is requested to 
 communicate, without delay, with Mr. William Wade, at- 
 torney-at-law, Susquehanna Iron-Works, Dauphin County, 
 Pennsylvania. My dear John, this may be the woman.'' 
 
 "Yes, but that advertisement I have always understood 
 refers to a woman who had been in the family, and in re- 
 gard to whom Mr. Honeywood desired to make some pro- 
 vision in his will, but forgot it. And so Alana, knowing 
 his wishes, sought for the woman, in order to carry them 
 out." 
 
 " How did you hear all that ? " 
 
 "I don't know, now. I never paid much attention to 
 the circumstance, and, indeed, never heard the advertise- 
 ment read till this moment." 
 
 "My dear John, that is very absurd. People don't ad- 
 vertise for women after that fashion. Let me see," open- 
 ing the paper and proceeding to read : 
 
 "'Sarah Mullin, who, in the year 1855 or thereabout, 
 in the city of Philadelphia, made the acquaintance of Mr. 
 Francis Honeywood, is requested,' etc. Now, does that read 
 like an advertisement for a nurse ? Not a bit of it ! " and 
 Mrs. Benham replaced the newspaper in the desk, with the 
 air of a person who had made a statement that was incon- 
 trovertible. 
 
 John Benham was silent. He was thinking deeply of 
 the circumstances that had been brought to his mind, and 
 was endeavoring to deduce from them a conclusion that
 
 OX THE SCSQrEHASXA. U7 
 
 would satisfactorily account for them. Mrs. Benham, how- 
 ever, had her oW ideas on the subject, and that they were 
 
 - IT! teU you what I think, John," she said, resuming 
 her seat, and showing by her manner the extraordinary 
 interest that had been aroused within her. '-This Sarah 
 Muffin is a woman with whom Mr. Honeywood had formed 
 flfidt relations. She is no relative of Alana. but her father 
 on his death-bed requested her to seek the woman out, and 
 to make provision for her. Likely enough he had treated 
 her badly, as men often treat women under such circum- 
 stances. Todd is her brother, and the two are in league to 
 force att they can out of Alana, by first getting her into 
 their power. As to Todd being Alana's uncle, that is a fie. 
 She is not tike him in the slightest respect, is die ? " 
 
 "Xo, I should say not ; and yet there is sometimes a 
 certain faint resemblance between them. StflL it is noth- 
 ing accidental. rirflff, just as is the woman's to her. I 
 shouldn't be at all surprised if your solution of the matter 
 is correct. But who, then, is the other mm throne that I 
 dragged over the road very much to his damage, I am happy 
 to say?" 
 
 "That I can not ten you. Does be resemble anybody 
 you ever saw ?*** 
 
 "Xo, I never saw a face tike his. Of one thing, how- 
 ever, I am certain he is the leader; the others are his 
 took. How, let us see how the matter stands : 
 
 "1. The woman looks something tike Alana, but not 
 much. Alana, as you know, resembles her father greatly. 
 
 "2L Todd bears a stffl less resemblance to her; that,*! 
 think, may be considered to be accidental. 
 
 "3. Bat Todd and the woman are very much alike ; in 
 features, in expression, in voice, in manner. They mar cer- 
 tainly be regarded as brother and sister, and the woman's hw- 
 > relative to him showed that she was intimate with him.
 
 148 ON THE SUSQUEHAKSA. 
 
 "4. Todd declares that he is Alana's uncle. It is of 
 prime importance that the truth or falsity of this state- 
 ment should be at once established, and I propose to devote 
 myself to the question. 
 
 " 5. The woman showed that she had an affection for 
 Alana that was at times superior to all other considerations, 
 and that would probably, if she could be separated from her 
 two confederates, come to be a ruling passion with her. 
 The woman must be found, and taken into our service 
 against the others. 
 
 " 6. Conference should at once be had with Alana. She 
 will be able to give data that can not fail to be of service, 
 in the warfare that is going to be waged against this vile 
 gang. 
 
 " I think," he added, after a moment's reflection, " that 
 these are the chief points. Do you think of anything 
 else?" 
 
 " No, you seem to have covered the whole ground ; but 
 what are you going to do ? " 
 
 "First of all I'm going to Harrisburg, to see Todd. 
 The other fellow will probably tell me nothing, but Todd I 
 have reason to believe, can, by a mild degree of bribery, be 
 got to disclose the whole plot so far as he knows it. I shall 
 this evening reveal all to Alana, and seek to obtain her con- 
 fidence. I shall take her advice in regard to further tak- 
 ing Mr. Wade into partnership. He can, I think, be of 
 great service : in the first place, he is a very sensible man ; 
 and, in the next, he is a good lawyer." 
 
 "Do you think she knows yet that Todd claims to be 
 her uncle ? " 
 
 " No, I am quite sure she does not yet suspect such a 
 thing. But she can not long remain in ignorance, for Miss 
 Pink will make it her special business to tell her at the first 
 opportunity. It will, therefore, be much better that she 
 should hear it either from Mr. "\Yadc, or me ; and, if he has
 
 OX THE STSQUEHAXSA. U0 
 
 not told her by tbis evening, she shaU hear it from me, 
 Ho one in this world can hare a greater interest in her 
 thanl." 
 
 - She may be able to tell you something of this woman. 9 * 
 
 -Xo, I think not. Mr. Wade probably knows more 
 than any one else about her. 9 
 
 Am I to speak of your engagement ?" inquired Mrs. 
 Benham, suddenly changing the conversation. 
 
 "lio, certainly not, tffl Alana gires her consent. I 
 will tell yonagood deal more to-morrow morning than I 
 can tefl you now." 
 
 He looked at his watch, and found it was time for him 
 to be at his office, Alana was expected back in the train 
 that arrired at fire o'clock. He would hare gone to the 
 station to meet her but for the fact thai* as he never before 
 had done m, be thought it might attract attention were he 
 to do so now, and thus give rise to surmises for which 
 Alana might not yet be ready. At six o'clock he would 
 see her. and he impatiently awaited the arrival of that 
 hour. 
 
 In tiie mean time the train came in, and a few minutes 
 afterward he saw, from his office-window, Alana entering 
 the boose with her veil drawn doaely over her face, The 
 
 flisfwnfv* f , -Twao c4"vt"iuvn l t ** IM* f ^jwnaiT- imu ^ufcj. Ml, m 
 
 hundred yards, and she had as usual walked it. John Ben- 
 bam was not a romantic man nor one given to effuEure 
 demonstntions, but be kissed his band to her as she walked 
 past without seeing him; the first time in all his life that 
 he had erer perpetrated such an act
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 IT took about twenty minutes for the train to go from 
 the Susquehanna Iron- Works to the station at Harrisburg. 
 Mr. Wade and Alana were fortunate enough to find a com- 
 partment of a parlor-car empty, and into this they went at 
 Mr. Wade's suggestion, he desiring, as he said, to have a 
 little conversation with her. She would, however, greatly 
 have preferred to be alone. She had ample food for thought 
 without having other topics brought to her attention, but 
 she had always acted upon the principle that disagreeable 
 subjects caused less trouble if they were faced and at once 
 disposed of ; so she resigned herself to Mr. Wade and his 
 communication. 
 
 " There is very little time at my disposal," he said, as 
 soon as they were seated, " but what I have to say will not 
 take long, and it is too important to be deferred. I have 
 to ask that you will not, under any circumstances, go to 
 the jail to-day to visit Todd. I have reason to believe that 
 he will send for you as soon as he knows that you are in 
 town, and he will know that a few minutes after you get 
 there." 
 
 " How should he know, and what will he want with 
 me?" 
 
 " He will know from a person whom he has hired to tell 
 him when you leave the works, and who is now on this 
 train ; that person will go at once to the jail and will tell 
 him. As to what he will want with you, I am not sure, but 
 there is very little doubt that his object is to extort money."
 
 03T THE SUSQUEHASSA. 151 
 
 Are prisoners allowed to see whom they please ?" 
 
 " Under certain restriction?, persons who hare not been 
 conricted and are simply detained for trial, are allowed to 
 Bee whom they please. A person is deemed innocent till he 
 has been proved gnflty. 9 
 
 "And they can send out imammgui and receive mes- 
 sages?" 
 
 "Tea, if they can afford to pay for them, and there is 
 nothing objectionable in the communications they send or 
 receive. 1 ' 
 
 "I certainly hare no desire to see the man, and yet 
 there are some matters about which I would like to talk 
 with him. He is certainly the one that came to see my 
 father many years ago." 
 
 " I hope soon to put you in possession of all the infor- 
 mation in regard to him that has been obtained. I defer 
 doing so now because a good deal of it I do not believe, and 
 it would merely be causing you distress for nothing to tell 
 it to you. Be patient and hopeful ; I think everything will 
 eome right-" 
 
 "liry to be patient, and I try stffl harder to be hope- 
 fuL There is so much to make life pleasant that I try to 
 shake off all the troubles that come to me." 
 
 " Tfe, yon are brave ; you were always brave. Do you 
 recollect the time, it must be sixteen or seventeen years 
 ago, that I took you with me to fish in the Conodognmet ? 
 We had to cross the Susquehanna, and coming back you 
 accidentally let go the string of fish we had caught, and 
 which you were trailing in the water over the stern of the 
 boat. Without a word, yon at once jumped overboard and 
 began to wade down the stream after the fish. Of course, 
 I went after you, but, before I could reach you, you had got 
 into deep water, and down you went over your head. I 
 grabbed yon as yon came up and pulled yon into the boat, 
 half drowned. "The first words you said were, 'Oh, the
 
 152 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 fish, I've lost the fish !' And so you had. They had been 
 carried down the river toward the sea to be eaten by the 
 cat-fish and eels before they had gone far on the way." 
 
 " Yes, I recollect," said Alana, laughing. " I got very 
 wet, and got a good scolding when I reached home, besides 
 being laid up with a cold for a week or more. I owe my 
 life to you. Sometimes I think it would have been better 
 if you had let me drown." 
 
 "Why, just now you were saying that there was so 
 much to make your life happy ! " 
 
 " So there is, but, oh, so much to make it miserable ! 
 How can I be sure of a moment's happiness when there is 
 a sword suspended over my head that may fall at any mo- 
 ment ? " 
 
 "I shall try not only to keep it from falling, but to take 
 it away altogether." 
 
 " Yes, and you will not succeed. How can you ?" she 
 added, bitterly. " It belongs to me, and in due time it 
 will fall. You might as well try to change the course of 
 that river. But, Mr. Wade," she went on, "you have 
 knowledge in your possession in regard to my mother and 
 perhaps of other relatives' that you are keeping back from 
 me. I do not think this is wise, nor is it kind. I am the 
 person most interested, and I ought to know of all that is 
 going on." 
 
 "That is right," rejoined Mr. Wade, with emphasis, 
 " and you shall know. I am obliged to stay in Harrisburg 
 till to-morrow, and to-morrow evening I will give you all 
 the information I now have, and will, I believe, be able to 
 ease your mind of the burdens that now weigh so heavily 
 on it. But here we are at the station. I suppose you will 
 go to Mrs. Priestley's ? " 
 
 " Yes, I shall dine with her. Will you get me a car- 
 riage, please ? " 
 
 They left the train, and then, when Mr. Wade had put
 
 ON THE SrSQUEHAXXA. 153 
 
 her into a carriage, they parted, he to call on the district 
 attorney, with the Tiew of conferring with him relative to 
 the prisoners in the jail and as to the means to be pursued 
 to find the woman of the party, and Alana to visit her 
 friends Mrs. Priestley and her daughters. 
 
 As she drove up Market Street to the River Bank, on 
 which Mrs. Priestley had her handsome residence, she 
 thought that, after all, she might as well have been allowed 
 to come to Harrisburg without the company of Mr. Wade, 
 as the only matter that he had had to bring to her notice 
 was a request that she should not go to the jail to visit 
 Todd, even if he should send for her, as the had been given 
 to understand he probably would. Wei], if he were, as 
 seemed likely, her uncle, why should she not go to see 
 him ? Indeed, why should she not take the initiative in 
 the whole business, and direct its course ? She was not a 
 child, to be kept in ignorance of important matters that 
 concerned her. And then there was now John Benham. 
 Who could be a wiser counselor to her than the man she 
 loved, and whose wife she would one day be ? " His wife ! " 
 she exclaimed. '*' Xo, I can not be his wife tfll this mystery 
 that surrounds me is cleared up, and then, perhaps, when 
 he knows who and what I am, he will not want me. He 
 told me to-day that he was a proud man. 
 
 "But, no,"" she continued, "it can not be that that 
 man is my uncle. 1*11 not believe it till there is better proof 
 of it than the fact that my father said he is my mother's 
 brother. My poor father ! He was very weak when he 
 told me all that. His mind had been wandering at times 
 for several days. My God ! what if it should be all a mis- 
 take ? What if there were no Sarah Mullin ? What if my 
 mother were a good woman, and I not ^ 
 
 She did not speak the word, for the carriage had stopped 
 at Mrs. Priestley's door, and the course of her thoughts was 
 interrupted. Bat, just as she vras entering the house, a
 
 154 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 woman, closely veiled, approached her from around the 
 corner, near which the building was situated. 
 
 "Are you Miss Honeywood ?" inquired the woman in 
 a tremulous voice, hurrying forward, so as to reach Alana 
 before she got into the house. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I have a note for you," taking as she spoke a letter 
 from under her shawl and giving it to Alana. 
 
 "I will read it and send an answer." 
 
 " Please to read it now. It will require but a moment, 
 and I will take back your answer." 
 
 Alana, still standing on the steps, opened the envelope, 
 and read the note : 
 
 "DAUPHIN COUNTY JAIL, Friday. 
 
 "Alexander Todd would like to see Miss Honeywood as 
 soon as possible. He wishes to apologize for his conduct 
 yesterday, and to communicate important information. Do 
 not fail to come." 
 
 For a moment Alana hesitated. Then she spoke : 
 
 " Did you say you would take my answer ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then tell him I will come." 
 
 "At what time shall he expect you ?" 
 
 Alana took out her watch. It was then a quarter to 
 eleven. "Tell him," she said, "that I will be there at 
 three o'clock." Then a sudden impulse moved her. 
 
 " Are you a relative of his ? " she asked. 
 
 "It doesn't matter who I am," answered the woman, 
 working her ungloved fingers nervously. "I'm nobody 
 that you know." 
 
 " Will you raise your veil and let me see your face ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because I do not choose to do so. That is sufficient
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 155 
 
 reason, I suppose, in a free country. Besides, 
 am afraid of shocking you with my ugly face. It isn't 
 every one that's as beautiful as yon." Then, in a changed 
 tone", and as though fearful that she had annoyed or hurt 
 her interrogator by her rudeness, die said : "I can not tell 
 you now who I am. Perhaps some day not far distant I 
 do so. Give me your hand a moment your right 
 
 Alana held out her hand. 
 
 "Take off your gk>Ye, please." 
 
 Alana remored the glore, 
 
 The woman took the hand that was again outstretched. 
 and looked at it through her veil, as though studying its 
 form and the lines that indented the rosy palm. It was a 
 shapely hand, not especially small, for Alana was not a 
 small woman, but beautifully proportioned and kept The 
 woman held it in hers for a few moments while she gazed 
 at it, and Alana thought she heard a smothered sob. Then 
 she raised it to her lips under her veil, and then Alana was 
 sure that a tear dropped upon it 
 
 "Who are you ?" she said, a vague feeling of hope and 
 fear filling her breast " Ton must tell me who you are.'' 
 Sb withdrew her hand, and tried to raise the woman's Tefl; 
 but she was not quick enough, for her viator descended the 
 steps and was Urns beyond her reach. 
 
 "At three o'clock," she said, "he win expect you. 
 Farewell 1 Be patient, and in time you wffl know aD." 
 Then, with a quickened pace that was almost a run, she 
 disappeared around the corner. Alana followed her, de- 
 termined, if possible, not to lose sight of her ; but, when 
 she armed at the corner, there was no one like the woman 
 insight. 
 
 Slowly she retraced her steps to Mrs. Priestley's, Ml 
 doubting that the woman who had exhibited so much emo-
 
 156 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 for not having more determinedly persisted in trying to 
 make her reveal her identity. At first she thought she 
 would not go into Mrs. Priestley's. The incident had en- 
 tirely unfitted her for the society of this lady and her 
 daughters, filling her mind with quite different thoughts 
 from those that she knew would be prompted by the brill- 
 iant women she had come to visit. But, upon reflection, 
 she deemed it advisable to try her utmost to act as though 
 there were nothing to trouble her, at least till the time 
 came when the crisis should bo reached. She was aware 
 that this would be a difficult task, for she was not good at 
 concealing her emotions, and she was not quite sure that 
 shs would not break down in the attempt. But certainly 
 there was no place that she knew of where such an effort 
 could be made with greater chances of success than in Mrs. 
 Priestley's house, and no persons so capable of diverting her 
 mind as this lady and her daughters. So she again as- 
 cended the steps leading to the front door, and this time 
 she rang the bell. 
 
 If Harrisburg society could be said to have any leader, 
 Mrs. Priestley was the leader, and her two pretty daughters 
 were her lieutenants. The fact was, however, that Harris- 
 burg society did not have a leader. Not because it was too 
 large or too small, but because it was cut up into numerous 
 factions that took their origin from the religious predilec- 
 tions of the members. Thus there was a Methodist, a Lu- 
 theran, a German Keformed, a Eoman Catholic, a Presby- 
 terian, and an Episcopalian circle, each as rigid in its lines 
 as if they were made of cast-iron. The two latter, however, 
 were the most prominent, and in fact the only ones in 
 which fashionable people were to be found. What there 
 was about the others that cut them off from their Presby- 
 terian and Episcopalian brothers and sisters it would be 
 difficult to define, but that they were cut off there is no 
 doubt. They dressed as well, they knew as much, they
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 157 
 
 followed similar occupations, they were among the oldest 
 settlers, but, for all that, the others were the elite, and their 
 right so to be was not seriously questioned. 
 
 But if the Methodist, the Lutheran, the German Ke- 
 formed, and the Eoman Catholic cliques gave way before 
 the Presbyterians and the Episcopalians, the fight for su- 
 premacy between the latter was severe and bitter, and had 
 been going on ever since " the Church" was established in 
 the town. At first, the Presbyterians had carried matters 
 with a high hand. That was when the little establishment 
 on the Eiver Bank was weak in numbers; but latterly the 
 Episcopalians had received several noted accessions from 
 Philadelphia, Boston, and other large cities, and, although 
 not yet so numerous as their religious rivals, were, in their 
 own estimation at least, infinitely more select ; and head 
 and front among them was Mrs. Priestley. 
 
 She was a handsome woman, intelligent, sprightly, vi- 
 vacious, quick at repartee, with just sufficient impudence 
 in her composition to prompt her to say sharp though 
 good-natured things to her friends, and still sharper things 
 without the good nature to and of her enemies. She pre- 
 ferred to let herself out to their faces, for the element of 
 fear of the consequences was not one of her characteristics ; 
 but if they were not present she was not thereby prevented 
 expressing her mind in regard to any acts of which she sus- 
 pected them to ba guilty, or of any disagreeable personal 
 peculiarities that she imagined them to possess. 
 
 Of course, such a woman was certain to have many ene- 
 mies as well as friends, as is the case with all aggressive 
 people, and while the one category hated her as she herself 
 used to say " like fury," the other loved her very dearly. 
 
 Her daughters, Rubina and Colletta, were like her in all 
 essential respects, except, of course, in the one matter of 
 age, and in the one other feature that they were not quite 
 so aggressive. They were emphatically what is called
 
 158 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " sweet girls " ; were very pretty and accomplished, well 
 dressed, and, above all, intelligent. They possessed, also, 
 that happy faculty which their mother was still able to 
 share with them, of making their horns delightful to the 
 young men of the city, and they were almost always cer- 
 tain to have two or three distinguished-looking gentlemen 
 in their retinue when they went to church or received their 
 friends at their own home, that had apparently just arrived 
 from Philadelphia or New York or Carlisle Barracks 
 the latter, army officers. As a consequence, they were at 
 once the admiration and the envy of all other society wo- 
 men in Harrisburg, and especially of those belonging to the 
 Presbyterian persuasion. 
 
 Alana had known the Priestleys ever since she could 
 recollect. There had been some basis for the rumor which, 
 however, had never reached her ears, that, if her father had 
 lived a few months longer, Mrs. Priestley would have been 
 her step-mother. The prevailing belief was that Mr. Honey- 
 wood was a widower, and he had taken no pains to correct 
 the impression. Latterly Alana had at times suspected 
 that Mrs. Priestley was acquainted with the circumstances 
 of her father's early life, as he had told them to her, but 
 she was never quite sure on this point. Certain it is, how- 
 ever, that Mr. Honeywood greatly admired Mrs. Priestley, 
 and that the lady was equally fond of him. Alana, how- 
 ever, saw nothing in the intimacy beyond friendship, but 
 there were many Harrisburgers that predicted a marriage 
 between the two as soon as the lady had mourned the con- 
 ventional period for the departed Mr. Priestley. Mr. 
 Honeywood's death, before the probationary time had 
 elapsed, gave a quietus to all this gossip. 
 
 "Is that you, Alana?" were the words that greeted 
 Miss Honeywood, as she was asking the servant whether or 
 not the ladies were at home. " I thought it might be that 
 hateful Mrs. Boggs, and I was looking over the stairs to see
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXSA. 159 
 
 if John had the sense to tell her ire were not at home. She 
 has been here for fire successiTe mornings at this very hour, 
 and has always been told that we were not at home. Shell 
 find out if she keeps it up for a year that I'm just as de- 
 termined as she is ! How are yon, my dear ?" kissing Alana 
 as she spoke. " It's good for sore eves to see yon, and how 
 sweet yon look ! Bnbina ! Collie ! here's Alana Honeywood. 
 Drop afl that nasty embroidery and come down to my sit- 
 ting-room. They're making cushions for the church fair. 
 Well, why don't you tell me how you are ? Hare you lost 
 your tongue ? Now I know what you're going to say. 1 ' as 
 Alana smiled, " o yon needn't say it I know I'm a gar- 
 rulous old woman. That antiquated old maid. Flora 
 McFlimmer. who believes that there are babies in hell a 
 span long, told me so to my face a week ago. But didn't 
 she catch it ? It's my private belief that she went home. 
 committed suicide, and has been secretly buried. She 
 hasn't been seen since, that's certain. Xow I'm done. 
 Not another word will I utter till you hare told me all 
 about yourself. You're come to stay with us a week at 
 least?" 
 
 . '* No, I must go back this evening. I hare an engage- 
 ment that is imperative, Ah, here are the girls ! How arc 
 you, my dear ?" to each, as she kissed them. " Don't let 
 me stop your work for the church." 
 
 "Ohi we are glad to have it stopped for a while." said 
 Miss Priestley. 
 
 "Yes, and Fm sorry I ever began it," exclaimed Col- 
 letta, the younger. " Ifs stupid work, and church fairs are 
 stupid things." 
 
 "You ought to hare been here last night," said Mrs. 
 Priestley. "We ha-i Mr. Qrgoyle,ftMi Xv~ Yetfc, Mftd 
 Mr. Manly, from Philadelphia, 'and George GalJand. of 
 course ; he's always here, and Lieutenants Frisbie and Fair- 
 fax from Carlisle."
 
 160 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Don't forget Stickney Grammout, mamma," inter- 
 rupted Kubina. 
 
 " I should have mentioned him next, if you hadn't taken 
 the words out of my mouth. We danced till twelve o'clock, 
 and then we had a nice little supper. Miss Saunders was 
 here. She dropped in accidentally, of course, though 
 Abram told me, this morning, that she poked her head out 
 of the window and stopped him as he was returning with 
 the musicians I sent him for, and asked "what was going on. 
 Did you ever hear of such deceit ? She asked me if I'd go 
 to the Presbyterian church with her, next Sunday, to hear 
 the Rev. John Sniggs preach, and I'm glad I gave her the 
 answer I did." 
 
 "What did you reply ?" inquired Alana, with a smile, 
 knowing well that something sharp was coming. 
 
 " I told her I'd as soon go to a circus on Sunday as to 
 a Presbyterian meeting-house ! " 
 
 "And what did she say to that ?" 
 
 " Say ! what could she say ? She merely went through the 
 entirely superfluous work of turning up her nose higher than 
 Providence has turned it for her, and walked off. Now, tell 
 me the news. I'm dying to know how you are getting along." 
 
 Of course, the most important piece of intelligence that 
 Alana had to communicate, was relative to the affair in 
 which Mr. Alexander Todd had been engaged, and which 
 had terminated so disastrously for that person. Of her 
 engagement to John Benham she was not yet prepared to 
 speak, but she had been nothing loath to mention him as 
 her defender, and had not been stinted in her praise of his 
 thoughtfulness and gallantry. 
 
 "Mr. Benham is one of my friends," remarked Mrs. 
 Priestley, after she and her daughters had expressed their 
 thankfulness at Alana's escape. " He used to be very fond 
 of Rubina, and at one time I thought they would make a 
 match of it,"
 
 161 
 
 ! Mr. Ben- 
 life. He TC 
 
 Mis. Priestley"* vay of telk- 
 prettj giri, bet she re not the 
 
 rejoined ttedUer fady, "became here more 
 frequently than lie vent anywhere efee, ^ 
 
 njcfcaboy. He cane here ID see Uncle Ton, and to 
 talk chemistry whi him, not to see me." 
 
 " WeH, weft, my dear, bare it jour own war. He's 
 not a Bunying nun, tfaalt I admit. Of cause, Abu, you. 
 feri 107 gatefal to kirn fiv kn amnfiEOTB defence of 300. 
 &a vhat became of the riDam Todd ? 
 
 "Todd B in jail hem'' Tnen the id ocraned to her 
 it wamld be wdH to meal her intentions relative to 
 
 >Tidtsheva going to make the nun. "Fra gomg to 
 
 him On tftf"**"^ awl I vooid like you to go with 
 
 Going to the jail, to rkit the 
 
 t mn that I know," answered Alana, a little 
 I re coming in here, a woman OTotook me 
 this note, 1 ' handing it, as aw ^oke, to Mis. 
 
 Tbe lady took the note and read it 
 
 and. " It may afl be a sdaeme to get yon 
 into MB handX and to cmt off one of jnor fin^era, fte bnrte, 
 
 "Ye^Imrta*'lumalone, I am not abaid. Itvffl 
 beeawenongli totake the precanfion of hariag an officer
 
 162 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 in the next room, who will come in should I call for assist- 
 ance/'' 
 
 "My dear, you don't know these fellows. He might 
 stuff a handkerchief into your mouth as soon as you are 
 alone with him, so that you could not call, and then cut 
 off your fingers at his leisure. What does he care if he is 
 discovered, after he has committed the act? It's only a 
 year or two in the penitentiary. And if his wife dies, he'll 
 get a life-sentence anyhow." 
 
 "I shall have to go," answered Alana. "I have prom- 
 ised to be there at three o'clock to-day." 
 
 " I would not go for a million dollars ! " exclaimed Col- 
 letta, with energy ; "I believe it's a decoy letter." 
 
 " I'm sure it is," said Eubina. " It's just the kind of 
 a note Amelia Williams got, last winter, from a man who 
 said he had cheated her father out of a thousand dollars, 
 and asked her to meet him on the bridge half-way to the 
 island on the next day at three o'clock in the afternoon, so 
 that he could return it. She said nothing about the mat- 
 ter to any one, but went to the rendezvous, expecting to 
 come back with a thousand dollars. You know what a 
 lonesome, dismal place the bridge is. Well, she got there, 
 and there was the man, sure enough, waiting for her. In- 
 stantly she was seized by two other men that sprang out 
 from behind the timbers, gagged and thrown into a covered 
 wagon that drove off rapidly back to town. She was blind- 
 folded so that she could not see where she was being taken 
 to. A week afterward she was carried back in the same 
 manner to the bridge at the same hour and left there. 
 Where she had been all the time she could never discover, 
 and the family naturally don't care to talk about it. She 
 has never been outside of the house since." 
 
 "Well, my dear, Mr. Todd is so peculiarly situated at 
 this time that he can't very well abduct me," said Alana. 
 "I shall take proper precautions, but I shall have to go
 
 Off THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 163 
 
 and see him. Mr. Wade came down with me this morning, 
 and he seemed to think that Todd would want to see me. 
 He asked me also not to go. I didn't promise him, fortu- 
 nately, so that I shall not be breaking my word. I may say 
 to you that I have especial reasons for wishing to hear what 
 the m^n has to say." 
 
 "Very well, then," said }Irs. Priestley, with a little 
 irritation in her voice ; "if you are bent on it, I'll go with 
 you, but a more foolish undertaking I never knew of in all 
 my life!" 
 
 " Don't be cross with me, dear," said Alana, putting 
 her arms around Mrs. Priestley's neck and kissing her. " I 
 am not easy in my mind just now. There are several 
 things that trouble me, and that prevent me being very 
 happy. If you are unkind, I shall break down altogether." 
 
 " Unkind I " exclaimed Mrs. Priestley, returning Alana's 
 embrace. "If I could be unkind to you, I ought to be 
 squeezed flat in a rolling-mill ! Xever mind me. You 
 know I love you dearly. Of course, I'll go to the jail with 
 you." 
 
 " You may trust her now," said Colletta. " Whenever 
 she makes that speech about the rolling-mill, she's in ear- 
 nest. She has a great horror of being thin." 
 
 "Come, miss," exclaimed Mrs. Priestley, "you must 
 treat your mother with more respect ! About this Todd," 
 she continued, turning to Alana, "is he at all presentable ? 
 His note isn't so bad, except that he changes you from the 
 third to the second person." 
 
 " No, he is a ruffian of the worst type. He looks and 
 acts like a ruffian." 
 
 " What could have been his object in attacking you ? " 
 
 " He wanted me to promise to make him foreman of 
 one of the mines." 
 
 " What can be the nature of the information he speaks 
 of in his note ? Have you an idea of it ? n
 
 164: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Yes, I have, but I would rather not mention it now, 
 for I may be wrong. I hope to be able ere very long to take 
 you into my confidence." 
 
 Then they talked of various events that Mrs. Priestley 
 and her daughters brought up for discussion, most of which 
 were more or less mild forms of scandal ; and then, after 
 dinner, Mrs. Priestley ordered her carriage, and in it she 
 and Alana drove to the Dauphin County Jail.
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 THE Dauphin County Jail is a strong and handsome 
 structure, built some forty or more years ago, according to 
 the modern system of prison architecture. When Mrs. 
 Priestley's carriage drove up to the door, and the two well- 
 dressed ladies got out and entered the building, the passers- 
 by wondered what could be the cause of the visit Both 
 Mrs. Priestley and Miss Honeywood were known by sight 
 to most of the inhabitants of the city. It was not the fash- 
 ion in Harrisburg for ladies to visit prisoners for religious 
 or charitable purposes ; there was no remarkably distin- 
 guished criminal in jail at the time who might be the sub- 
 ject of curiosity ; so the wise men marveled, and told their 
 wives that night, when they went home to tea, that Mrs. 
 Priestley and Miss Honeywood had been seen going into the 
 jail 
 
 " Perhaps they were arrested, and were allowed to go 
 there of their own accord, so as not to mortify them too 
 much," said pretty Mrs. Layton, who led the Presbyterian 
 opposition. "I always knew that Mrs. Priestley's arro- 
 gance would have a fall, and, as to Miss Honeywood, what 
 can you expect of a woman, brought up a Protestant, and 
 who encourages idolatry by building a Roman Catholic 
 church at her own expense ?" 
 
 "Has she done that?" inquired Mr. Layton, who, 
 though a terrible antagonist at the bar, was a veritable 
 sucking-dove in the presence of his wife. " I think and 
 I say it with great diffidence, my dear, in view of your su-
 
 16G ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 perior knowledge of such matters that there must be some 
 mistake about that." 
 
 " There is no mistake, Mr. Layton, for I had it from 
 Miss Pink, who has just this moment left the house. Miss 
 Honeywood announced it to the workmen, who came to 
 congratulate her on her escape from a man who tried to 
 force her to make him foreman of one of her mines." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, Todd as precious a scoundrel as there is 
 outside of Moyamensing. I hope to have the satisfaction 
 of sending him there." 
 
 " Why, what have you to do with him ? " 
 
 "He's in jail, my love, and will be tried at the next 
 term of the court ; and, as I am the district attorney, I 
 shall have the pleasure of conducting the prosecution. I 
 have just had a long conversation with Mr. "Wade about the 
 fellow." 
 
 "And why, pray, couldn't you tell me all that, Mr. 
 Layton, instead of allowing me to go on and make all kinds 
 of surmises ? Of course, Miss Honeywood has gone to see 
 Todd, and Mrs. Priestley is chaperoning her." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so." 
 
 "Keally, Mr. Layton, you are an exceedingly aggravat- 
 ing man. You come home with a mystery which is no 
 mystery at all. "Why couldn't you have told me the whole 
 story in the first place ?" 
 
 "Professional secret, my dear." 
 
 "Then why did you tell it at all ?" 
 
 " You forced it out of me, my dear. That is, you 
 attributed an erroneous cause to Miss Honcywood's visit, 
 and" 
 
 "And you felt called upon to defend her," interrupted 
 Mrs. Layton. " I don't see why you should set yourself 
 up as the defender of Miss Honeywood. A rival to Mr. 
 Benham ! I don't sec what there is in Miss Honeywood 
 that all the men should be rushing forward in her defense."
 
 OK TOE SUSQUEHAXyju 167 
 
 " My dear, you are worth " 
 
 "Yes, I know what I'm worth. If it hadn't been for 
 what I was worth, I'd hare been Mary Maxwell yet, as far 
 as you are concerned." 
 
 " I was going to say that you are worth all the Miss 
 Honeywoods in the world for me." 
 
 ** And, as there's only one, I appreciate the force of the 
 compliment. No, no, Henry, I am forced to the conclu- 
 sion that you married me for my money." Mrs. Layton 
 shook her head sadly as the full force of her conviction 
 struck her, and her eyes filled with tears. But, as she had, 
 ever since a week after her marriage, daily expressed a like 
 opinion, the announcement had lost a good deal of its 
 original influence, so that now Mr. Layton merely stroked 
 his mustache and looked sad. LeaTing him and his wife 
 to settle their little matrimonial difficulty after their own 
 fashion, let us return to Mrs. Priestley and Alana Honey- 
 wood, whom we left just as they bad entered the jail. 
 
 Like the greater number of jailers, Mr. Justus Schwan- 
 ger was a kind-hearted man. Probably in no class of men 
 has there been a greater revolution through the progress of 
 civilization than in that of the keepers of prisons. Accord- 
 ing to tradition, they were formerly a cruel set of men, 
 always doing everything in their power to make the lot of 
 those under their charge as hard as possible. Now, how- 
 ever, the captive finds in his keeper his kindest and most 
 sympathizing friend one who, from the instant of his in- 
 carceration, throws off all the stiffness of official etiquette, 
 and treats the unhappy creature with a familiarity that 
 looks as though it were born of years of friendly social in- 
 tercourse. 
 
 M r. Schwanger, whose grandfather was a Hessian soldier 
 captured by Washington at Trenton, and who declined to 
 be exchanged, received the ladies with his customary polite- 
 ness, and ushered them into a large, plainly furnished 
 8
 
 168 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 room, the windows of which were mere slits in the stone 
 wall, and which were further protected by stout perpendic- 
 ular and horizontal iron bars, the interstices between which 
 would not have admitted the passage of a pigeon. 
 
 "Is there any one you'd like to see ?" he inquired, ad- 
 dressing Mrs. Priestley. 
 
 " It is I who wish to see Alexander Todd," said Alana. 
 
 " He's not been tried yet, and so he is allowed to receive 
 visitors. What name, please ? " 
 
 " Miss Honeywood. He wrote to me requesting an in- 
 terview." 
 
 "Oh, yes ! excuse me, I didn't know that you were Miss 
 Honeywood," and he looked at her as though to make him- 
 self acquainted with the features of the woman that Todd 
 had attacked. " I'll bring him here in a moment ; but," 
 he added, "he's a bad fellow, I'm afraid." 
 
 "Yes, I know that, and I don't feel altogether safe 
 with him, especially as it is necessary that I shall see him 
 alone." 
 
 Mr. Schwanger thought for a moment, and then, looking 
 kindly at Alana, said : 
 
 " By opening that grating in the door I can see into the 
 room from the gallery there, a distance of at least twenty 
 feet, and too far for me to hear your conversation. Now, 
 if you will sit here" placing a chair as he spoke "and 
 not move, I will watch you as carefully as if yoTi were my 
 own daughter, and, at the least offensive demonstration 
 from Todd, I'll be down on him with my revolver. He has 
 nothing in the way of a weapon about him, and I'll make 
 him sit there in that chair, and if he moves it will be bad 
 for him." 
 
 " You are very kind. I shall now feel perfectly safe." 
 
 "And I,' 7 said Mrs. Priestley, "will sit with Mr. 
 Schwanger, so that you will have two pairs of sharp eyes 
 watching you. "
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 169 
 
 The jailer left the room, and in a few minutes returned 
 with his prisoner. Then he again retired, accompanied by 
 Mrs. Priestley, and Alana was left alone with the man who 
 had expressed his intention of cutting off one of her fingers. 
 
 Confinement in jail had certainly improved his personal 
 appearance, whatever may have been the effect upon his 
 morals. He was clean externally, at least his hair was 
 brushed, his face shaved, and his clothes were in order. 
 Alana looked at him closely. Yes, he surely was the man 
 that had visited her father many years ago, and who had 
 met with such a rough reception. 
 
 " Fm to sit in this chair, and not to move from it," he 
 said, with a surly tone, " unless I want to run the risk of 
 getting a pistol-bullet in me. As I never take chances of 
 that sort, Fll stick to this seat. I've too much to live for, 
 I guess," he added, ironically, "and I want to stay here 
 and enjoy it." 
 
 He took the seat that had been placed for him by the 
 jailer. 
 
 " I'm sorry I frightened you the other day,* 5 he resumed. 
 " I had taken too much whisky, and when I do I get play- 
 f al. Of course, I wouldn't have done you any harm, and 
 it was confounded mean in Mr. Benham to handle me as 
 he did. IT1 try to be even with him for it some day ! " 
 
 *'\Tc will not discuss that matter," said Alana, quietly. 
 " I shall always feel that Mr. Benham rendered me a great 
 service. " 
 
 " Of course, thaf s the way you look at it ; but I think 
 you ought to give me credit for having some natural affec- 
 tion. A man isn't likely to want to hurt his own niece." 
 
 " Your niece ! Xo, I will not believe it ! n 
 
 " Well, whether you believe it or not, it's true. You're 
 the daughter of my favorite sister. Sarah Mullin." 
 
 " Then how," inquired Alana, displaying no emotion, 
 though she felt a little pang through her heart at the
 
 170 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 announcement "how does it come that your name is 
 Todd?" 
 
 " My name is Todd simply because I choose at present 
 to call myself so ; but I am your uncle, Alexander Mullin." 
 
 " You will have to prove your claim before I will admit 
 it. It's an easy thing for you to say that you are my uncle. 
 When you prove the fact I'll acknowledge you." 
 
 " Thanks ! It's just as easy to prove it as to say it. Do 
 you recollect ever to have seen me before you came to my 
 house the other day ? " 
 
 " Yes, I saw you in my father's library." 
 
 " Did he tell you who I am ? " 
 
 " He told me on his death-bed that you are my mother's 
 brother, but there are circumstances that lead me to believe 
 that this is not correct." 
 
 "And what may these be?" inquired Todd, looking 
 sharply at Alana, while his face became a shade paler. 
 
 "They are chiefly two," she answered, not shrinking 
 from his gaze. " First, he was very weak, his mind had 
 been wandering. at times for several days, and even that 
 morning had been confused. It may have been, therefore, 
 that he made a statement that was not true, and that had 
 he been in health he would not have made. Second, in- 
 quiries instituted shortly after his death led to the discovery 
 that Sarah Mullin's only brother was killed by a policeman 
 in the city of Philadelphia, in November, 1864." 
 
 "I see you are tolerably well informed," he rejoined, 
 apparently more at his ease after hearing what she had to 
 say, "but your investigations have not led you to the whole 
 truth. Listen to me, and I think I shall be able to con- 
 vince you that I am your mother's brother, and conse- 
 quently your uncle. 
 
 "Your father," he went on, after a moment's pause, as 
 though to collect his thoughts and put them in order, 
 " boarded with my mother in Sansom Street, Philadelphia,
 
 OK THE SUSQUEHAXSA, 171 
 
 near the Academy of Natural Sciences. She had a daughter 
 Sarah and two sons, William and Alexander. I am Alex- 
 ander." 
 
 "Two sons?" inquired Alana, while her heart sank 
 within her. 
 
 "Yes, two. William lived at home, and, as you say, 
 was killed by a policeman. I did not lire at home, but at 
 thai time resided in Baltimore, where I was a master brick- 
 layer. I had received a pretty fair education, as you can 
 tell from the way I talk, and had made some money. I got 
 into a bad habit of drinking too much whisky, however, and 
 I came down several pegs. It was while I was in Balti- 
 more that your father behaved badly to my sister, and "' 
 
 " Stop ! " cried Alana. raising her hand as though to 
 emphasize her words. " My father never wronged man or 
 woman. If there was any wrong done, it was your sister 
 who did it, and not my father. " 
 
 " Do yon not can it a wrong to seduce a woman, and 
 then to refuse to marry her ?" 
 
 " Yes, but my father committed no such crimes. He 
 may have sinned, but he did no wrong to your sister. It 
 was she, if indeed the whole story is not a delusion of my 
 father's and a falsehood of yours, who refused marriage 
 when he offered it, who deserted her infant, and who en- 
 tered upon a career of vice, from which all his efforts could 
 not withdraw her. If she is alive, and if she is my mother, 
 I am ready, willing yes, anxious to own her before all the 
 world, and to do my utmost to comfort and protect her. 
 God knows I have been unceasing in my efforts to find her ; 
 and God knows that, were she lying in the gutter, I would 
 take her to my heart and try to reclaim her ! Bring her to 
 me, or tell me where she is, and I will make good my words 
 this very day, if possible." 
 
 " I see you know the story, but it has been tinted to 
 suit the particular light that illuminates your surround-
 
 172 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 ings. However, we will not talk about that part of the sub- 
 ject ; my object in asking for this interview was somewhat 
 different. It is about myself that I wish to confer with 
 you at present. Your mother may come later, but now my 
 personality is of more importance." 
 
 " Not to me ! " 
 
 "Well, if not to you, certainly to me. There is no 
 doubt about my being your uncle. Your father's state- 
 ment to that effect is true. I have told you the story of 
 his affair, or whatever you choose to call it, with my sister 
 and your mother, exactly as you have heard it from him, 
 except that the coloring is different, as would naturally be 
 the case. The Mullin side is white to the Mullins and 
 black to the Honeywoods, and vice versa, but there are 
 certain facts in regard to which both parties agree. Be- 
 sides that, you have only to look at me to be convinced 
 that we are relations." 
 
 " If your sister is my mother, why was not the adver- 
 tisement answered that was kept in the newspapers for 
 many months ? And why were all the inquiries that I in- 
 stituted without success ? " 
 
 " There are reasons for both those facts that may be re- 
 vealed to you in due time," said Todd, a little hesitatingly. 
 " At present, however, I desire to confine our conversation 
 to myself. Now please, my dear niece, give me your atten- 
 tion." 
 
 Alana shrank at the word "niece" as though some 
 poisonous reptile had stung her. He saw the movement, 
 and the expression of disgust that came to her face. 
 
 " You don't like the idea, I see, but it's one that you 
 will have to become reconciled to. But to business. Sen- 
 timent is all very well in its place, but it has nothing to 
 do with our affairs just now, except to the extent that 
 policy warrants. I don't like being in jail, I don't want to 
 be tried. One of my friends is also here, I understand, and
 
 OS THE SCSQUEHAXS A. 173 
 
 is the man who put him here. He wants to get 
 out too, I've no doubt You can get us both discharged. 
 You have only tosay the word to Mr. Wade, and hell speak 
 to the district attorney, and that wffl be the end of it 
 Xow, for this good work for us well engage never to 
 trouble you either with ourselves or your mother, provided 
 you wffl give her enough to tire on for the remaining years 
 she may hare to stay in this sorrowful world say fifty 
 
 " If my mother wishes to share aU I have in the world, 
 she has only to come to me or reveal herself so that I can 
 go to her. With you I wffl make no terms." 
 
 "You bad better think well before voa decide adversely. 
 If I am tried, there wffl be a great deal concerning your 
 father and mother and you brought to the fun tight of day 
 for the world to consider, that yon would not wish to have 
 revealed. There wffl be no mercy shown. Your origin, 
 .jour mother's career in sin, as yon were pleased to call it 
 just now, wffl be exposed. The secret that your father 
 guarded so carefully all his fife wffl be divulged," and, asm 
 i present it> it wffl make a bad showing for him whose 
 pride it was to pass for a man of honor. If you 
 value his reputation you wffl think twice before you refuse 
 my requests, and, thinking twice, wffl grant them." 
 
 linn sii fin II !! Bfijtiinl illi slul ll.i 
 
 said. He had played his cards, and it was Just as Mr. Wade 
 thought. He wanted money. But he offered what some 
 persons would have thought a fair equivalent for the sum 
 asked, and she had to admit that his 
 der the circumstances, an extravagant 
 now that he was her uncle. The facts, so far as she knew 
 them, an went to establish the relationship except the one 
 of his supposed death, and it was more than probable that 
 his statement that there were two sons was correct But 
 who was the other of whom be spoke as
 
 1Y ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 oner, and made so by Benham ? Had her lover again in- 
 terfered for her protection ? And why, if so, had nothing 
 been said to her of the circumstance? She would like to 
 be free from Todd. She was willing to pay him to keep 
 out of her sight, but she would not interfere to effect his 
 release, and, as to buying immunity from the presence of 
 her mother, that was not to be thought of. She had her 
 duty to do to the woman that had brought her into the 
 world, and please God she meant to do it, if it ever came 
 within her power, though all the world witnessed what 
 some might think her degradation. No, she would not 
 purchase immunity from her mother. 
 
 In the mean time Todd had been closely watching Alana's 
 face, and seemed to divine intuitively what was passing 
 through her mind. He began to feel that, in offering to 
 free her from all fear of association with her mother, he 
 had gone too far. He saw that the girl was resolved, no 
 matter how degraded a criminal or how vile her mother 
 might be, to claim her and to give her whole heart to the 
 work of reformation that might be required. In an in- 
 stant, therefore, he changed his tactics. He was a sharp 
 man, as the reader has doubtless already perceived, and 
 this was by no means the first contest of the kind he had 
 had. For years he had lived on his wits, and they had, 
 from his standpoint, done him good service, and he hoped 
 to get still further benefit from them. Before Alana could 
 answer his propositions he announced his improved plan. 
 
 " I see," he said, " that you are not pleased with the idea 
 of being separated from your mother. I honor you for the 
 sentiment, though I said just now that it has nothing to 
 do with business. I was mistaken ; it has a good deal to 
 do with it. Very few young ladies in your position would 
 care to be hampered with a mother like yours. Yon know- 
 something in general about her, but you can't know much 
 of the particulars. If they were known, they could not
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXSA. 173 
 
 help but be disagreeable to you. I don't suppose they'd 
 bring you down to her level, but they'd shock your fine 
 friends pretty badly, and I guess Mr. John Benham, who 
 seems to have started up as your champion, would fed 
 small when he found out that you have a mother that ted 
 well, we won't say anything about that, just now. You 
 shall have your mother if yon want her. Get me out of 
 here, and give me the fifty thousand dollars, and 111 prom- 
 ise to keep out of your way all the rest of my life." 
 
 " Very well," she said, her face as pale as a sheet, for 
 she felt that she was speaking the death-sentence of her 
 new-found love ; " bring my mother to me, and I will give 
 yon the money. But what assurance have I that you will 
 keep your word with me, and never let me see or hear of 
 you again?" 
 
 " That's a proper question, and one that shows you to 
 be a good business woman, even if you are a little senti- 
 mental. Unfortunately, the case is one that does not ad- 
 mit of my giving bonds for my continued disappearance. 
 AH I can do is to give you my word, and, as it happens, 
 you won't be likely to put much confidence in that* for 
 youTl think, and you're doing it now, that, after I get the 
 fifty thousand, 111 come back, in a year or so, for fifty thou- 
 sand more, and so on. WeD, now, think a moment : sup- 
 pose I did, what difference would it make to yon ? Yon are 
 not the woman that can be blackmailed. You wouldn't 
 pay a cent, and if I got troublesome you'd call in the police. 
 Don't you see ? I couldn't do yon any harm : all the harm 
 that can be done, you wfll have done by taking your mother 
 home with you and owning her. Her whole story wfll come 
 out at once. There isn't a policeman in Philadelphia that 
 isn't looking for her, under one or the other of her names ; 
 for yon see, out of respect for the family, she don't go 
 by the name of Sarah Muffin, and it might be that you 
 wouldn't keep her long, for they've got detectives all around,
 
 176 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 and they'd be sure to spot her and carry her off. That," he 
 continued, warming with the subject, as he saw the shudder 
 that Alana gaye, while she covered her face with her hands, 
 to hide the shame even from this wretch, that his revela- 
 tions caused "that's the reason I thought you'd rather 
 pay to have her kept out of your way. You'd find it a 
 deal sight more comfortable, and she isn't used to the sort 
 of life you'd give her, either." 
 
 It was a struggle with Alana. She believed that the 
 man was speaking the truth ; she was sure her mother was 
 even worse than she, in her most despondent moods, had 
 ever imagined her to be. On the one hand, she was offered 
 immunity from all association with the woman, and with it 
 the retention of her position in the social world, the con- 
 tinuance of her newly found relation with John Benham, 
 and, ere long, the certainty of becoming his wife. On the 
 other hand, were the shame of being known as the illegiti- 
 mate daughter of an infamous woman ; the sense of humil- 
 iation she should feel, at being compelled to call by the holy 
 name of mother, one who had outraged all social laws, and 
 in whom even the maternal instinct had probably never ex- 
 isted ; and, above all, the impossibility of ever marrying 
 the man she loved. " I can never disgrace him," she 
 thought, as she sat there in the jail, pondering over what 
 Todd had said, " by becoming his wife, and the mother of 
 his children. No, no, it is impossible ! I love him too 
 dearly for that ! I shall gain a mother my God, what a 
 mother ! and I shall lose the noblest, the best, the bravest 
 man I ever knew. But it is my duty. God give me 
 strength to perform it ! " 
 
 Her decision was made once and for all. 
 
 "No," she said, "I wish to find my mother. I will 
 give you the money. I will try to get you released from 
 prison. I shall do these things as compensation to you for 
 bringing my mother to me. You can go, or stay, just as
 
 OS THE SD8QDEKASXA. 177 
 
 yon please. If you auoy me, I shaH appeal to the law f or 
 speaking vy slowly and defib- 
 ly, "if 30* me to trouble me Toy much, an 
 no other way of getting rid of yow, I should 
 
 I should hare you killed. There is Mul- 
 r die added, bitterly, -to make me 
 
 with people like TOO.*' 
 "Yes, you would hare Mr. Benham pt a bullet into 
 me, I hare BO doubt," and Todd, with a sardonic anile. 
 '-There's some of TOUT mothers blood in you, as you say, 
 and it shows itself every BOW and then. However, we won't 
 quarrel I'm a nun of peace when Fm sober, and yoa need 
 ever fear that m erer show myself to yon, or let you hear 
 of me. So far as yon are eoncersed, from the moment yon 
 pay me the moaey^ I diaB be dead. Xow, I want to show 
 you that I harai't deoetred you. I hare kept back my 
 documents just to gireyoua chaoce to beJiere me on my 
 word, and without written proofs. Xow see here " : 
 
 With these words, he took from the breast-pocket of ka 
 
 " he rasamed, after he had spread them aU oat 
 on his knees, "are all the letters from your father to your 
 
 r that woe written daring fl Mat fifteen years of h 
 life. Four every year; eudj lnUrift. They accompanied 
 the checks that he sent to l^erery quarter. Ifhedidnot 
 destroy them, you wfll find among his papers the answers 
 conveying the receipts, As yom see," handing several of 
 them to Alana. "they are in his own handwriting, and 
 they are, most of them, addressed to Montreal, Canada; 
 
 the banking-torn* of 
 Scott & Glasgow, of that city, with whom be 
 
 _ - > > e- - "mm _ 
 
 jcepc mKU xor mat piupobe. isnx tue BBK irtiiiitatoce WJB 
 
 ::ir :ii -1-7."
 
 178 ON THE SUSQUEHANtfA. 
 
 Alana took the letters and ran her eye over them. It 
 was true ; just as he had said. This, then, was the reason 
 why no information had been obtained in regard to the bank 
 upon which Mr. Honeywood's checks in favor of Sarah 
 Hnllin were drawn. This man, then, was her uncle ; her 
 mother was within reach, her life was henceforth to be an 
 isolated one, her young dream of love was over. She closed 
 her eyes, for she felt her head swim, and heard a soft musi- 
 cal murmur in her ears, while an indescribable sensation of 
 weakness swept through her. She knew that she was about 
 to faint, but, by a powerful effort of the will, she sustained 
 her sinking forces. Todd was again speaking : 
 
 "That's not all I have to tell you," he was saying; 
 " the most important part is yet to come, and it's the part 
 you'll like best, I guess. Your father " 
 
 A slight noise, as if of some conversation outside, inter- 
 rupted him, and assisted her to rouse herself from the state 
 of semi-torpor into which she had fallen. She opened her 
 eyes, for she heard the voice of some one calling, " Alexan- 
 der Todd ! " and looked around her. Mr. Schwanger, the 
 jailer, had entered the room, and was coming toward the 
 man whose name he had just spoken. She heard very 
 distinctly every word he said, but for the life of her she 
 could not have moved a limb. 
 
 "Alexander Todd," repeated the jailer, "I am sorry to 
 be obliged to change your quarters and to restrict your 
 liberty. I have just heard that your wife is dead, and I am 
 ordered to hold you on the charge of murder." 
 
 Then Alana heard no more. A feeling as though she 
 were in the midst of a vast, void space impressed itself upon 
 her, and she fell senseless to the floor.
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 X Alana recovered consciousness she fonnd herself 
 lying on a sofa in the jailer's parlor, with Mrs. Priestley, 
 Mrs. Schwanger, and Dr. Worth bending over her, and all 
 three entreating her to take just one swallow of the draught 
 that the physician was holding to her lips. She possessed 
 the excellent virtue of being obedient to the medical 
 authority set over her, so that, as soon as she had regained 
 sufficient intelligence to comprehend what was desired of 
 her, she complied without a question. Then she closed her 
 eyes again, and dropped off into a quiet slumber from which 
 she did not awake for half an hour. The doctor had taken 
 his departure as soon as she had swallowed the mild mixt- 
 ure of brandy and water that he had given her, saying that 
 her pulse was all right, and that, when she awoke, she 
 would probably be as well as she ever had been in her life 
 physically, he meant, of course ; of her mental distress 
 he knew nothing. 
 
 " Do you feel better, dear ? " inquired Mrs. Priestley, 
 tenderly. "I could see that you were having an awful 
 time with that man, who, if he gets his deserts, will hang 
 for the murder of his wife ! " 
 
 "Don't speak of it, please," said Alana, with a shudder. 
 " It is horrible ! It was that that turned the scale against 
 me. I should not have fainted bat for the announcement 
 that Mrs. Todd is dead. Poor woman ! and yet some- 
 times it is better to die than to live ! " She spoke these
 
 180 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 last words in a voice inexpressibly sad, and then closed her 
 eyes while tear after tear rolled down her cheeks. 
 
 "Take a little more of this brandy and water," said 
 Mrs. Schwanger, a pretty, good-natured dame. " The doc- 
 tor said that I should give you the rest of it as soon as you 
 awoke." 
 
 " No ; I really do not require it. If he were here to see 
 how hot my skin is, and how rapid is my pulse, he would 
 not wish me to take it." 
 
 "Yes, I see that you are quite feverish," said Mrs. 
 Priestley, passing her hand over Alana's forehead. "Do 
 you feel well enough to come with me, and to be put into a 
 nice bed, and to stay there until you are quite well ? The 
 carriage is at the door." 
 
 " What time is it ?" 
 
 "Half-past four." 
 
 "And the train that I am to take leaves at five ! " 
 
 "You surely will not think of going home to-night !" 
 
 "'Yes, I must go. As I told you when I came this 
 morning, I have an engagement that can't be deferred." 
 
 "You will kill yourself!" 
 
 "No" with a sad smile "I am tougher than you 
 think for. I am not easily killed. No " under her breath 
 "not easily killed!" 
 
 Then she rose from the sofa, and, going into an adjoin- 
 ing room, bathed her face and hands in cold water, into 
 which the good Mrs. Schwanger emptied a bottle of bay- 
 rum. This refreshed her greatly, so that, at the end of a 
 few minutes, she expressed herself as ready to go to the 
 railway-station, and, after warmly thanking Mrs. Schwan- 
 ger, and inwardly resolving to show her appreciation of 
 that lady's kindness in some more substantial manner, she 
 entered Mrs. Priestley's carriage, and was driven to the 
 station. All the way, however, her friend continued to in- 
 sist that it was the most foolhardy act that Alana had ever
 
 OX THE srSQrFTTAWA. 181 
 
 done in her life, and that it would not be a matter for sur- 
 prise were she to hear to-morrow that it had terminated in 
 a brain-feTcr. 
 
 '* Then I shall send for yon to come and nurse me," said 
 Alann, throwing her arms around Mrs. Priestley's neck and 
 kissing her. " You hare been ever so kind to me to-day. I 
 feel as though you were entitled to my confidence : but I 
 can not give it yet I must ask you to bear with me a lit- 
 tle longer ; yon will soon know alL** 
 
 " WheneTcr it suits yon, my dear, it will suit me. You 
 know, Alana, that you are one of the very few women I be- 
 lieve in. You are such a sincere woman, and sincerity is 
 the rarest of the feminine virtues. I know that there is 
 something troubling you, and, when yon think I can help 
 you to bear it better, tell me of it. Now, here we are. and 
 there's your train, as I'm a living sinner, just coming in ! 
 A minute more and we should have missed it*" 
 
 The ladies got out, Mrs. Priestley going with Alana to 
 the cars, and seeing her safely in a section of a palace-car 
 where she could lie down. 
 
 "Give my love to the girls," said Alana, "and don't 
 think badly of me, whatever yon may hear.'*' 
 
 "Think badly of you ? Td as soon think badly of the 
 Virgin Mary! Good-by, dear: telegraph me to-morrow 
 how you are."" 
 
 Arrived at home, A1 r**^ as we have seen, had walked 
 the few yards from the station to her house with her veil 
 down, and was, as she entered the door, the unconscious 
 recipient of John Benham's wafted kisses. 
 
 After inquiring into the circumstances attending Mrs. 
 Todd's death, and discovering that the poor woman had 
 died from a fracture of the skull, as the doctor had feared 
 would be the case, Alans sat down in the library to think 
 as calmly as she could of the course that she had to pursue, 
 The matter that required immediate consideration and ac-
 
 182 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 tion was her newly formed relation with John Benham. 
 She had invited him to take tea with her, and in an hour, 
 unless she countermanded the invitation, he would be in 
 her presence as her accepted lover her future husband. 
 
 "What was she to do ? She felt that she, the illegitimate 
 daughter of a woman, a great part of whose life she did not 
 doubt had been passed in prison, and who was even now 
 hidden from the sight of the officers of the law, and the 
 niece of a ruffian who had killed his wife, and who, in all 
 probability, would end his life on the gallows, could not 
 present herself before this honorable man who had told her 
 of his love and tell him she would be his wife. To do so 
 without informing him of the whole degrading truth, would 
 be a fraud upon him that she was absolutely incapable of 
 perpetrating, and for which she felt he would be fully jus- 
 tified in never forgiving her. To let him come, and to tell 
 him who and what she was, though she had now no doubt 
 that he would, notwithstanding her associations, take her 
 to his heart, would be exacting a sacrifice of him that she 
 conceived she ought not to ask, and that she loved him too 
 much to allow him to make. 
 
 And yet she knew that to give him up would be the 
 greatest trial of her life, and one to which she felt that she 
 could not, with all her strength of character, with all her 
 knowledge of what was her duty, subject herself. Was not 
 he, she asked, as she sat in the library wringing her hands 
 in her extremity, the judge of what was his happiness ? If 
 he were willing to take her as she was, why could they not 
 go together to some out-of-the-way place where they were 
 unknown, and live in each other's love ? She was wealthy, 
 he was a man full of resources. "What if she should tell 
 him all and leave the decision with him ? "Would she not 
 in her heart despise him if he should, with all the odium 
 that clung to her skirts, turn from her coldly and say : 
 " My wife must, at any rate, have a decent origin. I can
 
 OX THE SUSQUZHAXXA. H3 
 
 not wed the bastard of a strumpet, the niece of a murderer ! " 
 That was what she was : the bastard of a strumpet, the niece 
 of a murderer. ** My God ! " she exclaimed, " why should 
 there be such vile things in the world, and such vile words 
 to call them by ? '' 
 
 She could not hold the same opinion five minutes. As 
 new phases of the situation presented themselves before her, 
 she changed her views, and thus, after half an hour's ram- 
 bling and painful thought, she was no nearer the solution 
 of the question that so intimately concerned her than she 
 was when she began to think. One thing she did, however, 
 decide upon. She would not countermand the invitation. 
 He should come, she would see him once more, and, if the 
 separation were inevitable, it should be unaccompanied by 
 shifts and evasions and subterfuges. He should come, and 
 the rest should be left to chance or to the course of 
 events, as the evening might develop them. She looked 
 at the clock on the mantel-piece. It was ten minutes 
 after six. In less than half an hour she might expect 
 him. She went to her room, changed her dress, bathed 
 her face and hands in iced water, smoothed her hair, send- 
 ing away her maid, for she wished to be alone, and at half- 
 past six descended to the drawing-room to await her lov- 
 er's arrivaL 
 
 She was very calm when she entered the room, and yet 
 she had not been seated longer than two or three minutes, 
 when a strange inclination to follow whither her emotions 
 might lead her, seemed to fill her whole being. She rose 
 from the chair, and, going to the large mirror that filled the 
 space over the mantel-piece, looked at herself critically in 
 the glass. She felt afraid of herself, she did not know what 
 to think, and yet, as she looked, she could not perceive that 
 any change had ensued in her countenance. She could not 
 but admit that she was comely, and she could not say that 
 she had ever looked better in her life. " He thinks I am
 
 184: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 beautiful," she said, with a smile. "I care not what all 
 the rest of the world thinks. I care for him, and for him 
 alone. He loves me and I love him. What else is there 
 worth considering ? I will tell him all. He will remember 
 his words of love, he will kiss me, he will clasp me in his 
 arms, for he loves me, and he will think of nothing but that. 
 I have power over him to bend him as I will. I will be his 
 if he will take me, and he will take me, for he loves me. 
 There is nothing to be said after that. If his father were 
 a criminal, if his uncle were a murderer, if his birth were 
 as infamous as mine, I should love him all the same ; yes, 
 more than if the blood of all the Howards ran in his veins. 
 For he would be the same, and I should pity him for his 
 misfortunes. To-night I shall be his affianced wife ; to- 
 night I shall be happy, whatever the morrow may bring 
 forth. I' shall never marry him ; I can never disgrace him 
 by becoming his wife, but this night he shall tell me of his 
 love, and I shall say ' no ' to nothing he may ask. It may 
 be a crime," she continued, walking away from the mirror 
 and clasping her hands together, "but to commit crime is 
 natural to me. My mother is a criminal ; she loves crime 
 for its own sake ; she voluntarily rejected a virtuous life ; 
 she has lived in prisons and worked at prison-labor. My 
 uncle, while stealing, was killed by an officer of the law ; 
 another killed his wife, and is in jail for the murder. What 
 is there in me to make me better than they ? I am Alana 
 Mullin, the bastard. Yes, that is what I am. What right 
 have I to the virtuous love of a good man ? What right 
 have I to set myself up as a respectable member of society, 
 and to associate with good people ? How I hate that word 
 'good,'" she exclaimed, bitterly. "What has it to do 
 with me ? I belong to the criminal class. My place is 
 among the dregs of society, not here among honorable 
 people. Well, I shall put myself there, and I shall begin 
 by deceiving the man who loves me and whom I love. That
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 185 
 
 wffl be a fair start, and it will not take long to bring me 
 down to the ferel of my mother !" 
 
 She turned as die spoke, and saw John Benham aJaiiil 
 ing before her. 
 
 "Oh, my lore, my lore !" decried, as the blood seemed 
 to rush in torrents to her head till she reeled like a drunken 
 woman, and fefl into the arms that were held out toward 
 her. "SaTeme ! rare me I st and then die wept and sobbed 
 as though her heart would break. 
 
 "My darting !" he said, with infinite tenderness in his 
 Yoke, "what is the matter? YonareflL Lookup; itia 
 L You are not afraid of me ?" 
 
 "Xo, no, not of yon : I am afraid of mrself I" 
 
 "What is it, dear ? 
 
 "I do not know," she sobbed. "It seemed to me as 
 though I were on the verge of some great crime. I feel 
 safe now, for yon will protect me." 
 
 , "Yes ; bnt yon are nervous. Yon hare overtasked 
 yourself to-day, and yon are feeling the effects ; come, at 
 down and tell 'me all about it. What have yon been doing ? 
 If yon are like me, yon ought to feel very happy." He led 
 her to the sofa, and 'placed himself by her side. 
 
 "Now," he said, smiling, "if there is anything on your 
 mind, out with it." 
 
 "Yes, I ought to be happy, I know. Yon and your 
 lore are all the world to me now, and yet I think I am the 
 most miserable of women ! no. no, I do not mean that. 
 While yon are with me, I am happy. See, do I not look so ? 
 
 She raised her eyes to his, while her face was irradiated 
 with a nnfle that, if it did not mean happiness, could not 
 hare been interpreted by the most skillful physiognomist. 
 
 "Yes, I think yon are happy," he said, after he had 
 feasted his eyes with a long look at her beautiful face. 
 
 "I am going to forget everything to-night bnt you. 
 You asked me this morning to tell you that I k>Ted yon.
 
 186 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 No, no ! " as he looked down at her hand and took it in 
 his " you must look me straight in the face. I want your 
 eyes as well as your ears, and your whole attention. Yes, 
 that will do. Now for my confession : 
 
 "I have loved you," she said, speaking very slowly and 
 deliberately, hut evidently with a calmness that she did not 
 feel, " since long before my poor father died. It has not 
 been a sluggish passion, but has grown with every hour of 
 my life, till now it fills my whole heart and soul. It has, 
 till this day, been an unhappy love, for I thought, most of 
 the time, that it met with no response from you, and" 
 
 "Ah, but, my darling, you know better now," said 
 Beuham, interrupting her. 
 
 " Yes, I know better now. But is it not strange al- 
 most wick_ed that we two should have lived within a 
 stone's throw of each other, should have met every day, 
 should have loved with our whole hearts, and yet should 
 have persistently tried to conceal it one from the other, and 
 with success, too, through all these years ? It was not 
 through the instrumentality of others that this was done, 
 for there was no one to interfere between us. You and I 
 could have done what we liked. It was not from the want 
 of opportunity, for we might have been as intimate as 
 brother and sister, had we so pleased. It was not that 
 there would have been anything wrong in our love, for we 
 had both, so far as our own lives were concerned, lived them 
 in soberness and truth." 
 
 " Why was it, then, my darling ?" said Benham, smil- 
 ing at her earnestness. 
 
 " I'm coming to that. It was because we doubted each 
 other's love though sure of our own, and through that 
 doubt we have lost years of happiness that we can never make 
 up ; they are gone, however sweet those to come may be. " 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "they are gone; but the future 
 will more than atone for them,"
 
 OS TOE SOSQdHASMA. 1-; 
 
 "But yon must never doubt me again, for I lore you, 
 and I could tefl jon so every minute of m j fife, it seems to 
 me, and each time the 
 happiness to me. Come, 11 
 sodden impulse after he 
 eternal faith in her lore, 
 me why you lore me?" 
 
 "Why do I lore von ? because TOH are JJana Honey- 
 wood, and the embodiment of all that I hold beautiful, and 
 pare, and lordy. 1 * 
 
 "Ah, how sweetly you answer me ! May I question 
 you again, and, perhaps, again and again ? w 
 
 'Yon may ask me any question you tike/* 
 
 "And you wffl answer truly, without regard to any- 
 thing but the truth ? 
 
 ~Y, I wffl speak the truth ; and his tone and foot 
 showed her that he would. 
 
 "Then tefl me. Suppose and I shall put a strong 
 earn suppose my father had been a bad man, a thief, a 
 tegbr, a murderer- anything you like that is infamous; 
 that he had been repeatedly tried for h crimes and sent to 
 prison, and Oat, instead of reforming when the opportu- 
 nity was offered to him, he continued to pursue his evil 
 ways from pure lore of an and crime would you, if I were 
 the daughter of such a man, would you lore me,, and speak 
 tome as sweetly as you did just now? " She paused and 
 waited for nfe answer, as though her life depended on what 
 
 smiled at the graritr of her voke and 
 about to answer her to the effect that if 
 
 had all passed the greater portion of their fires in 
 he would be the same; that be lored her for what 
 she was, not for what her father, mother, and brothers 
 and asters might nave been, and much more to the same
 
 188 - ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 effect, when the noise caused by some one at the door inter- 
 rupted him, and he had hardly time to make such a change 
 in the relative situations of himself and Alana as the pres- 
 ence of a third party rendered necessary, when the door 
 opened and Mrs. Winebrenner entered the room. 
 
 "So you're home, Miss Honey wood " she always in 
 presence of others spoke to Alana as Miss Honeywood 
 she said. " I've been up to see about that poor woman, and 
 have given directions for her burial such as I knew you 
 would approve. She never recovered consciousness." 
 
 " To whom do you refer ?" inquired Benham ; " not to 
 Mrs. Todd, surely ! " 
 
 " Yes, to Mrs. Todd. Haven't you heard that she died 
 at about two o'clock to-day ? " 
 
 " No. I have been in my office all the afternoon. It 
 will go hard with her husband, but not hard enough, I am 
 afraid." 
 
 " Can they hang him for the crime ? " inquired Alana. 
 
 "No, I think not. It would be impossible to prove 
 malice, or intent to kill. Evidently he only meant to push 
 or pull her out of the way. Are there any children ? " 
 
 "No," answered Mrs. Winebrenner, "there are no chil- 
 dren, thank Heaven ! " 
 
 " Yes, you may well say, thank Heaven ! both for the 
 sake of the children and of society," said Benham, warmly. 
 "The sooner such stock as Todd's runs out, the better for 
 the world." 
 
 "Do you believe that the tendency to commit crime 
 is hereditary ?" inquired Alana "that the children of 
 criminals are necessarily criminals ?" 
 
 She spoke with a little tremor in her voice, which Ben- 
 ham noticed, but which he supposed was due to the inter- 
 est she felt in Mrs. Todd, and the recollections evoked of 
 her narrow escape from Todd's effort to maim her. 
 
 "I certainly believe in the hereditary transmission of a
 
 OX THE SrSQUEHAXNA. . 189 
 
 tendency to crime,*' answered Benham. " To say that the 
 children of criminals must necessarily be criminals would 
 probably be too strong a statement, but undoubtedly the 
 tendency exists, and, if overcome, it is only through persist- 
 ent education in right directions, and absolute separation 
 from all vicious influences," 
 
 " You believe, then, in a possible good child from crimi- 
 nal parents ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," he replied, smiling and wondering at her 
 interest in the subject " All things are possible outside 
 the pale of mathematics ; but I have recently been reading 
 a work which goes far to show the great difficulty of chang- 
 ing hereditary tendencies of the kind in question, for it 
 proves that the skull and the brains of criminals are differ- 
 ent from those of other people." 5 
 
 "And if the brains are different, the characters must 
 certainly be in accordance with them ? " said Alana, inter- 
 rogatively. 
 
 " Yes, it would seem so. Probably, however, or at least 
 possibly, if the child be subjected to good influences at a 
 very early age, the form of the brain would be changed, and 
 the tendency to criminality overcome." 
 
 " Then we are not what we make ourselves, but what 
 our parents and early associations make us ? It's very inter- 
 esting. But, come, there is Abram, to tell us that tea ia 
 ready." 
 
 She spoke with an indifference that she did not feel. 
 Benham's remarks, evidently based as they were upon his 
 real opinions, had disturbed her, and brought back all her 
 old fears and morbid feelings. "VThat he had been going to 
 say, when Mrs. Winebrenner interrupted him, would have 
 been spoken with special reference to her and his love, and 
 his passion, not his intellect, would have dictated his opin- 
 ions. Now they were given without the disturbing influ- 
 ence of his emotion, calmly, coldly, as he really believed
 
 190 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 them, and as he had formed them after study and reflec- 
 tion. It was the death-blow to all her hopes! The blood 
 of a race of criminals ran in her veins ; the tendency to 
 crime existed in her, and only required the proper exciting 
 cause to bring it into activity. And yet she loved him so 
 dearly ! He was so tender and sweet with her, that to lose 
 him now, just as the vista of happiness was opening to her 
 gaze, would be more than she could bear. Still, there was 
 no alternative. The cup was at her lips, and she must 
 drink the draught that carried with it the destruction of 
 her new-born love. No, not that, though it were better if 
 it could be so, and if, from this night on, there should be an 
 entire oblivion of the passion that had sprung up in her 
 heart, and the full fruition of which she was never to taste. 
 That mercy was to be denied her, for she should love, and 
 what could be worse in this world ? love hopelessly, de- 
 spairingly. 
 
 It was a tremendous struggle that was going on within 
 her, and the evidence of which she was obliged, so far as 
 she could, to conceal from Benham and Mrs. Winebrenner. 
 And, as many emotional women are prone to do, she ex- 
 erted herself more than she intended, and in conse'quence 
 appeared to be in excessively high spirits, an incongruity 
 that struck a little harshly on Mrs. Winebrenner, though 
 Benham, while noticing it at first, considered it to be noth- 
 ing more than the natural reaction from the state of mental 
 depression in which he had found her. 
 
 But as the evening wore on, and Alana laughed and 
 joked over subjects that well-ordered people would have re- 
 garded as more calculated to excite tears than mirth, and 
 she gave utterance to opinions that he was quite sure were 
 not her real ones, Benham began to think that there was 
 an abnormal element in her exuberance. He watched her, 
 therefore, more closely, and ere long became convinced that 
 she was acting a part that was in reality painful to her.
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHASXA. 191 
 
 The discovery disturbed him beyond measure. He was 
 quite certain,, taking into consideration her state when he 
 had entered the room, and she had fallen into his arms, 
 imploring him to save her, that she had had something oc- 
 cur to her while in Harrisburg that had greatly distressed 
 her and had disturbed the usual regular working of her 
 mind. He was sure that she was not well, and he looged 
 for tea to be over, and for Mrs. Winebrenner to leave them 
 to themselves, in order that he might implore Alana to give 
 him her confidence. 
 
 At last tea was over. Mrs. Winebrenner, whose face had 
 all along expressed the astonishment she felt at the evident 
 familiarity that existed between Alana and Benham, pleaded 
 that business, connected with Mrs, Todd's funeral, required 
 her to visit the carpenter, who combined the work of an 
 undertaker with that strictly appertaining to his trade when 
 his services for the dead were required. 
 
 Alana and Benham were therefore again alone. He had 
 a great deal to say to her, but was this the proper time to 
 say it ? First, he would obtain her confidence, and then 
 he would determine how further to act That was what he 
 finally decided upon.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MR. ALEXANDER MULLIN, or Todd, as he now preferred 
 to call himself, was more than surprised at the announce- 
 ment made by Mr. Schwanger, the jailer. He was aston- 
 ished. The possibility that any serious injury had resulted 
 to his wife, from the swing into the corner that he had 
 given her, had never entered into his mind ; and now to be 
 told that she was dead as the result of the wounds he had 
 inflicted, was, from every point of view, distressing to him. 
 In the first place, he rather liked the woman. She had stuck 
 to him faithfully for many years, and she had rendered him 
 good service in several of the little scrapes into which his 
 disregard for the law had led him. Moreover, she had been 
 endowed with excellent common sense, and had, by her 
 prudential counsels, kept him out of several difficulfies into 
 which his associates would otherwise have drawn him, or 
 into which his own enterprising but rash spirit would have 
 prompted him to enter. 
 
 To be sure, she had opposed the scheme in which he was 
 now engaged, and had altogether disapproved of his coming 
 to the Susquehanna Iron-Works. It might be, he thought, 
 that, before dying, she had spoken of matters that it was 
 for his interest should not now be known, but this he con- 
 ceived, after having considered the subject in all its bear- 
 ings, was not, after all, very likely. She had always been 
 true to him, notwithstanding that he had at times treated 
 her badly ; and besides, as he understood the matter, she 
 had not emerged from the state of unconsciousness into
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 193 
 
 which she had passed soon after the attack that he had 
 made upon her. So that, even had she been so disposed, 
 she would not have been able to talk about him. 
 
 But still more was he distressed on his own account 
 He knew enough of the law to be aware of the fact that he 
 could not, when all the circumstances were known, be con- 
 Ticted of murder in the first degree. Doubtless the grand 
 jury would indict him for that grade of murder, but an in- 
 dictment and a conviction were, as he had had several times 
 in his career good reason to know, very different things. 
 He had not intended to injure his wife, much less to kill 
 her. He had meant only to pull her from between Miss 
 Honeywood and himself, and her head striking against a 
 piece of furniture, the fracture of her skull, and her subse- 
 quent death, were results that he had not contemplated. 
 He knew this very well; but how was he to prove it to the 
 satisfaction of a jury ? No one had, so far as he knew, wit- 
 nessed the affair, at that stage, but Alana. Doubtless she 
 would tell the truth, for she must know, as well as he did, 
 all the circumstances of the event, and she, although a Mul- 
 lin, was not likely to lie. Still, it was humiliating to him 
 to have to depend upon her for the integrity of his neck. 
 Some women that he knew, and relatives of hers, too, would 
 not. in a like state of affairs, hesitate a moment in giving 
 such false evidence as would effectually secure them from 
 any further attacks of an enemy. He was sure, however, 
 that she was not one of that kind. 
 
 But even if not murder in the first degree, it was bad 
 enough. At the very best, he could not expect to escape 
 confinement in the penitentiary for many years, and per- 
 haps for life. He had been engaged in the act of perpe- 
 trating an assault upon Miss Honerwood, had robbed her, 
 and had announced to her his intention of cutting off her 
 fingers. He had had the knife in his hand, and he had 
 been stopped, midway in the attempt, by John Benham.
 
 194 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 His wife had lost her life while endeavoring to prevent him 
 committing a felony, and she had lost it at his hands. 
 Yes, it was bad enough. 
 
 All his schemes were now at an end. He was no longer 
 in a position to exact terms from his niece. She was effect- 
 ually protected from him, and as to her mother here he 
 rose from the only chair in his contracted cell, and walked 
 as far as he could several times over the stone floor as to 
 the mother, well, he supposed he should be obliged to let 
 that part of the affair settle itself. It had passed beyond 
 his control. 
 
 Then, again, there was another complication. His con- 
 federate was also in prison, put there, too, by John Benham, 
 and, as he had reason to believe, from the account given 
 him b,y the woman, after his captor had obtained informa- 
 tion of importance in regard to the schemes in which they 
 had been engaged. Benham's house had not been set on fire, 
 Alana had not been abducted. Everything so far had failed. 
 
 It was very clear to him, however, that at the time of 
 her visit Alana had known nothing of the proposed arson 
 and abduction. If she had, she would have made her 
 knowledge manifest in some' way. Benham had not told 
 her. Doubtless he, too, had his schemes, and he did not 
 think it advisable to frighten her by taking her into his 
 confidence. Clearly his enemies, at that particular period, 
 had the advantage of him. 
 
 His quarters in the jail were much less comfortable than 
 those he had previously occupied. He was now regarded 
 as a dangerous character, with much greater inducements 
 to attempt an escape than when he was merely held on the 
 charge of assault and battery, with intent to maim. He 
 was, therefore, put into a cell, and was not allowed to leave 
 it, except upon stated occasions, and then only when ac- 
 companied by a keeper. Moreover, he had been told by 
 Mr. Schwanger that he would not be allowed to see all the
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHASXA. 195 
 
 people that might desire to communicate with him, or to 
 send messages OTCT the city. He had expressed a wish to 
 say a few words to the man that had been brought in on 
 the previous day, and it had been arranged that he should 
 do so, bnt now he was told that it could not be allowed. 
 This disgusted him very much, and caused him to inveigh 
 bitterly against the system that, as he said, treated an in- 
 nocent man as though he were guilty. But Mr. Schwanger 
 only shrugged his shoulders and replied that he had his 
 orders, and that he intended to carry them out 
 
 " But," rejoined Todd, " the man has property of mine 
 under his control that I want to inquire about. It may be 
 a great loss to me if I don't see him at once. There isn't 
 any serious charge against him, I suppose, and hell be out 
 in a day or two on 030.** 
 
 " I don't know about that," said the phlegmatic jailer. 
 * There may be more against him than yon think for. Still, 
 I don't know that there'd be any objection to your seeing 
 him in my presence, m bring him up now, if you like, 
 and you can talk to him from your cell, while he stands 
 outside on the gallery. " 
 
 " As if I wanted to speak about my private affairs be- 
 fore you or anybody else ! No, I thank you ! Not if I 
 know myself ! However," he continued, " bring him up. 
 I suppose ni have to submit, but it's hard lines. Of 
 course you know I didn't mean to kill my wife. I was too 
 fond of her for that YouTl see that Miss Honeywood, 
 who isn't prejudiced in my favor, will say that it was a pure 
 accident. Bring up the man. I only want to say half a 
 dozen words to him." 
 
 Mr. Schwanger, who had been conversing with Todd 
 through the grating in the door of his cell, made no reply 
 to the prisoner's somewhat rambling speech, but went at 
 once to another part of the jail where the person calling 
 himself Johnson was confined.
 
 196 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " How are you, Johnson ? " he said, as soon as he came 
 in sight of the man. " I suppose you haven't heard what's 
 happened to poor Alec Todd ? " 
 
 " Heard ! How could I hear, I'd like to know ? " 
 growled the man. " This is the most high-handed out- 
 rage that ever occurred in the State of Pennsylvania. I'll 
 make some one smart for it when I get out ! Conspiring to 
 commit arson ! That is the charge, and on the testimony 
 of a man who, by his own admission, was listening to pri- 
 vate conversation. No, I'm in for another reason, and I'm 
 smart enough to understand the whole matter, too. I've 
 nothing to conceal. My real name is Johnson, Thomas 
 Henry Johnson. And you can make the most of it. As 
 to Alec Todd, as you call him, I never heard of him in my 
 life." 
 
 " Never heard of Alec Todd I Why, he says you've 
 got property of his, and I've come now to take you up to 
 him!" 
 
 " He's a fraud. I never heard of the man before." 
 
 " Then yon don't want to talk with him ?" 
 
 " No, why should I ? What are your jail-birds to 
 me ? I'm a gentleman, and I never was in such a position 
 as this in all my life. I went up to a big rock on Peter's 
 Mountain with a lady, a friend of mine, in whom I'm free to 
 admit I'm interested. I wanted to show her the View, for 
 she has artistic tastes, just as I have ; and then this man 
 Benham pounced upon us, frightened her to death, I sup- 
 pose, for I haven't seen her since, and dragged me over a 
 rough road before a justice of the peace, and then made a 
 charge of conspiracy against me ! " 
 
 " The lady that you speak of has been here several times 
 to see Alec. She seems to know him, anyhow, for she says 
 she's his sister." 
 
 " "Well, she may bo his sister, for all I know. I'm not 
 supposed to know all the relatives of the women I'm ac-
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA, 197 
 
 qnainted with, am I ? Because he's her brother, it doesn't 
 go for granted that I know him, does it ? Xow, Mr. Jailer, 
 I think you're unreasonable. Ask the lady when she comes 
 again if she ever saw me in company with Todd, and I 
 guess you'll get an answer in accordance with what I tell 
 you. I never knew that she was a Todd. She's Mrs. 
 Sarah L'Estrauge now, and a widow. It's possible she 
 may at some future time be Mrs. Johnson." 
 
 " L'Estrange ! '*' exclaimed Mr. Schwanger. " Why, 
 she gave her name as Mobley this morning ! " 
 
 "Oh, well!'' said Johnson, laughing, "she goes by 
 many names. It's a whim of hers. She's fond of mystery. 
 The fact is," he continued, lowering his voice to almost a 
 whisper, " her name's neither L'Estrange nor Mobley. You 
 keep your ears open, and you'll hear something in a few 
 days that will astonish you. You'll find out then what her 
 real name is, and so will some other people, too." 
 
 " Well, it's nothing to me what her name is, so long as 
 it isn't Sarah Lansing, better known to the Xew York and 
 Philadelphia police as ' Confidence Sal.' There's a hand- 
 some reward offered for her. She's wanted in Philadelphia 
 for a jewelry robbery, and if I could lay my hands on her it 
 would be five hundred dollars in my pocket ; and more, 
 too, if I got some of the stolen property back." 
 
 If Mr. Schwanger had been a particularly observant 
 man, he might have noticed a change in Johnson's counte- 
 nance, as this information was being communicated. As 
 it was, he saw nothing more than that, as it seemed to him, 
 the man was not interested in " Confidence Sal," or in the 
 reward offered for her apprehension. Receiving no response 
 to his communication, he prepared to take his departure, 
 
 " So you don't want to see Alec ? " he said, rising from 
 the chair he had occupied. "He'll be disappointed." 
 
 '' Xo, I don't want to see him, and, what's more, I won't 
 see him. He has mistaken me for somebody else."
 
 198 ON THE SDSQUEHANXA. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell him what you say. Good-evening. Are 
 you quite comfortable ? " 
 
 " Comfortable ! that's a pretty question to ask a man 
 situated as I am. Look at these hands with the skin 
 scraped off the knuckles down to the bones ! Mr. John 
 Benham did that, and I'm going to pay him in full for it, 
 if it takes me all my life ! " 
 
 " That was because you wouldn't walk, wasn't it ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course it was. Why should I walk when he 
 had no business to arrest me ? " 
 
 "Oh, no, of course not! But then, you see, as you 
 wouldn't go like a good citizen, why, he just had to take 
 you in his own way. It was pretty hard on you, I admit, 
 pulling you along as if you were a sled ; but John Benham, 
 unless he's changed mightily since he lived here, isn't the 
 one to consider the feelings of a man that he thought was 
 engaged in perpetrating a crime/' 
 
 " But I wasn't, I tell you ! " exclaimed Johnson, angrily. 
 "However, I don't want to talk about it. You're kind 
 enough, anyhow. I suppose I can have anything to eat or 
 drink that I want ? " 
 
 "Yes, if you pay for it. You're not convicted yet. 
 Anything but liquor. No liquor allowed to any prisoner 
 without the order of the doctor." 
 
 "That doesn't hurt me, for I'm not a drinking man. 
 Now there's Todd " 
 
 "I thought you didn't know Todd ?" interrupted the 
 jailer, quickly. 
 
 " Well, can't I speak of a man without knowing him, 
 and without being snapped up like that ? It seems to ine 
 that you're always on the watch to catch me in some slip or 
 other. You might as well save yourself the trouble, for I'm 
 one of those men that don't make slips." 
 
 "Not even when caught by John Benham?" said the 
 jaiter, interrogatively, and with a playful smile.
 
 OX THE SUSQCEHAXS A. 199 
 
 "Xo, not even then. Jfo man's safe if he can't go up 
 a mountain when be pleases, and talk with the woman he's 
 in IOTC with, without being followed and seized as if he 
 were a jail-bud. How, lefs drop all that. Here's five 
 dollars ; get me good meals every day tOl that runs out, 
 and, if I'm here then, 111 give yon more. If I get out to- 
 morrow yon can keep what remains, or give it to the poor. 
 And there's another thing,* 1 he continued, as Mr. Schwan- 
 ger took the fire-dollar gold-piece that Johnson held ont to 
 him. "If Mrs. I/Estrange comes here this evening tell 
 her I'd like to see her. Does she know Fin here ?" 
 
 'Yes, she knows. Yon see aU the Harrisburg police 
 were looking for her last night when yon were brought in, 
 and they couldn't find her. Between you and me, they're 
 not half so sharp as they think they are. She came here 
 this morning, and I was going to keep her, but the district 
 attorney, who had had an interview with Mr. Wade, our 
 great lawyer, told me to let her alone, and it seems the po- 
 lice have been instructed not to arrest her. I guess they're 
 waiting to see what shell do about Todd." 
 
 Again Johnson's face expressed interest in the commu- 
 nication of the garrulous jailer, who was unthinkingly be- 
 traying the secrets of his superiors. Was there anything 
 more that he could get out of him ? If there was, doubt- 
 less Mr. Schwanger would reveal it of his own accord. All 
 he wanted was a listener. 
 
 'Wen, said Johnson, "if Todd's her brother, of 
 course she's interested. But what they wanted her for last 
 night is a mystery to me. She's as innocent of the crime of 
 conspiracy as I am, and that's just as much so as an un- 
 born child. ? 
 
 "You couldn't make it stronger, Thomas, 9 said the 
 jailer, getting more friendly even than he had been, "not 
 if you were to try for a million of years. It isn't much in 
 the waj of conspiracy that such an innocent can go into.* 9
 
 200 ON TOE SUSQUEHANtfA. 
 
 "No ; and another thing : when my lawyer, Mr. Stag- 
 gers, calls, please show him up at once, or come for me to 
 go down to him." 
 
 "All right. Anything more ? " 
 
 " Yes, there's one thing more. Perhaps, now that we've 
 settled all our little affairs satisfactorily, you'll tell me 
 what's happened to 'poor Todd,' as you call him." 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course ! To think I should have forgotten 
 that ! Well, you know he was brought here, just a little 
 while before you were, for robbing and assaulting Miss 
 Honeywood, and threatening to cut off her finger ; also for 
 knocking his wife down. Poor fellow ! I'm sorry for him. 
 He's had bad luck, for this afternoon his wife died, and 
 Alec is in now for murder." 
 
 *fr You don't tell me that ! That's bad very bad ! Was 
 she conscious when she died ? " He asked the question with 
 a greater degree of anxiety than would have been altogether 
 justified by the non-acquaintance of the husband and pre- 
 sumably with the wife that he had professed ; bitt the cir- 
 cumstance was not noticed by Mr. Schwanger. 
 
 "No; I know she never recovered consciousness from 
 the moment she fell." 
 
 Johnson gave a sigh of relief. 
 
 " Well, I'm sorry for her, and I'm sorry for him, too. I 
 don't suppose it will go so very hard with him. I guess it 
 isn't more than manslaughter, or something of the kind. 
 I suppose he was drunk at the time." 
 
 "Yes, I believe he was." 
 
 " If ever I have anything to do with a drunken man 
 again, I hope the devil will carry me off to the lowest pit in 
 the infernal regions ! " 
 
 "Again! Why, you didn't have anything to do with 
 Alec, did you ? " 
 
 "Anything to do with Alec ! Didn't I tell you I don't 
 know him ? "
 
 OS THE SUSQUEHAXSA. 201 
 
 I thought you aid 'again.' 
 
 -Your karats bad too bad for a jailer. You'd bet- 
 terlookout. Next yr the Donocrmta will carrr the coim- 
 tr, and your deafness will be a good excuse for giving your 
 jtae to another feDow." 
 
 rm not afraid. What would you like for snppsr?" 
 
 "Oh, anything. A half a dozen nice little cat-fish 
 would do as well as anything ; little ones, mind you ! Xot 
 much bigger than jour finger, and from the rirer, not the 
 
 Why not from the cana] ? 
 
 "Why, don't you know that Bffl Fleming was drowned 
 in the canal last" week, and that they haven't yet found 
 his body? Of course, afl the cat-fish between this and the 
 Five-mile Lock are feeding on it, and I don't care to take 
 Bffl at secondhand.-' 
 
 Mr. Schwanger laughed, and then finally succeeded in 
 tearing himself away from his facetious prisoner. 
 
 When he arrived at Todd's cell, he found hint anx- 
 iously awaiting his coming, and when he reported that Mr. 
 Johnson not only declined to make the desired visit, but 
 had stoutly a^ererated that he did not hare the honor of 
 Mr. Todd's acquaintance, the anger of that gentleman be- 
 gan to rise. But this was only for a moment He seemed 
 to recollect himself, and muttered Oat there must be a mis- 
 
 What did yon say his name is ?" he inquired, with a 
 n brihtenin of his manner and Toice. 
 
 "Thomas Henry Johnson is what he calls himself 
 
 "A stout, thick-set man, orer six feet high, with coal- 
 black hair and beard ?** 
 
 "Xo," answered the jailer, laughing. "He's a short* 
 thin man, with red hair and beard.* 
 
 -Oh, well, he's not the man I thought he was. He^s
 
 202 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 right, I guess. I don't know him, and, what's more, I don't 
 want to know him. My friend's name is Kegis." 
 
 " That's the ticket, is it ? " he remarked to himself, as 
 the jailer walked away. "We're not to know each other. 
 Well, he's smarter than I am, and it's safe to follow where 
 he leads. Now, if Sarah would only come and give me the 
 news, I'd be ready to turn in on that tombstone there that 
 they call a bed." He waited a half an hour, during which 
 he ate the frugal repast for, having no money, he was re- 
 duced to the jail-fare supplied by the people of Dauphin 
 County, and then, as he had slept very little the night be- 
 fore, he lay down on the not over-luxurious bed and was 
 soon in a state of obliviousness of all passing events. 
 
 But, although Mrs. L'Estrange, or Miss Mobley, did not 
 put in an appearance to Mr. Todd, she came to the jail like 
 a faithful woman-adherent, and asked to see him. This re- 
 quest Mr. Schwanger declared he could not grant without 
 authority from the district attorney. Circumstances had 
 changed since the lady's last visit ; persons accused of mur- 
 der were not allowed to receive visitors from without, ex- 
 cept by special permit, and in the presence of a keeper, save 
 always the legal counsel. 
 
 " I didn't know she was dead," she replied. " It must 
 have been a great shock to Alec. Did he go on much ? " 
 
 " Well, I can't say that he went on unreasonably," re- 
 plied Mr. Schwanger, with the caution of a "Pennsylvania 
 Dutchman." " He was disturbed, of course." 
 
 " He never meant to do it. It was all an accident. I 
 must see about bail for him at once, although I scarcely 
 know a person in the place." 
 
 " I guess it isn't bailable. You see, they draw the line 
 at murder. They'll bail them for almost everything else, 
 but there's a prejudice against the shedder of blood, and I 
 guess Alec will have to stay here till he's tried." 
 
 " He's got no lawyer, either. He sent for Mr. Wade
 
 OX THE SrSQUEHAXSA. SOS 
 
 last night, but he refused to assist him. Ill go up to-mor- 
 row and see what I can do with him." 
 
 " If you can get Mr. Wade, you'll hare the strongest 
 lawyer abont here. Why, a jury generally takes things just 
 as he tells them ! But, Mis Mobley,** he continued, " al- 
 though I can't let yon see Alec, there's another gentleman 
 here that's dying to see you, and there isn't any restriction 
 on him, except such as I choose to impose, and on this oc- 
 casion you're free to go to him.*' 
 
 "Don't call me Mobley. please. Alec always gives me 
 that name, because he didn't like my changing it for L'Es- 
 
 " A widow, I suppose ? "* said Mr. Schwanger, interrog- 
 atively. 
 
 " Yes, a widow. But you said there is a man that wants 
 to see me. Is it Mr. Johnson ?" 
 
 "Bight you are, Mrs. I/Estrange. Follow me, please. 
 IT! take you to his room. It's twice as big; as a ceD, and 
 therefore 'we call it a room. Half an hour, Mrs. L"Es- 
 trange. That's all m be able to allow yon this evening. 
 But if yon set yourselTes to it yon two can get through an 
 awful amount of talk in half an hour.*' 
 
 '* O Thomas ! w exclaimed the woman, as soon as she 
 was in the presence of her friend. " This is a bad thing 
 for poor Alec.'' 
 
 " Yes, he's your brother, I bear. Family ties were al- 
 ways strong with you, Sarah. Now, don't go to crying l a 
 as she put her handkerchief to her eyes, and sobbed a little. 
 " I guess if Miss Honeywood can be got to come out pretty 
 strong, it won't go so rery badly with him. What sort of 
 a man is your brother?'' looking at her with a peculiar 
 expression which she seemed by her look to understand. 
 < You know I never saw him.* 5 
 
 "Yes, I know," she answered; " I never talked to you 
 about him. He's not ray strong-minded, and then he
 
 204 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 drinks too much. That's the cause of this trouble. He 
 wouldn't have been in this scrape if he hadn't been drunk." 
 
 "Ah !" joined in Mr. Schwanger, "liquor is the cause 
 of more scrapes than all the other things put together. I'll 
 come for you in half an hour, Mrs. L'Estrange, and," he 
 continued, turning to Johnson, " if Mr. Staggers should 
 come while Mrs. L'Estrange is here, shall I show him up ?" 
 
 "Yes, I've no secrets from Sarah, or from any one else, 
 for that matter." 
 
 "All right !" and with this ejaculation Mr. Schwanger 
 went on his way along the iron gallery, and the man and 
 the woman had the room to themselves. 

 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 E Xow," said Mr. Johnson, as soon as he foand himself 
 with Mis. I/Eeirange, "don't talk abore a whimper, 
 for prison-walls hare ears, and don't do anything that yon 
 ;eare to hare all the world see, for they hare eyes." 5 
 'Things couldn't be worse than they are, it seems to 
 1 said the lady, sitting down on the one chair in the 
 while Johnson sat on the edge of the bed. 
 ''Ton in prison for conspiracy, Alec in prison for murder, 
 and the whole plan, hud with such care, absolutely de- 
 stroyed." 
 
 "Yes, and yon watched, and liable to be arrested at any 
 
 "Iwatched! How do you know that ?" 
 -From the old fool that's just gone. He let out that 
 there's a. policeman here, from Philadelphia, looking for 
 you ; and a reward of fire hundred dollars offered for your 
 apprehension. If he knew who you were, you wouldn't 
 get out of this jafl tffl yon went to Moyamensing for ten 
 
 ''I am pretty wen disguised, ain't I ^ said the woman. 
 "I don't think even yon could recognize me as the woman 
 yon saw a week ago in Philadelphia. 9 
 
 " JTo, I don't think I could,-' be answered, looking at 
 her critically. "Yon certainly can change your features 
 more completely than any person I erer saw, manor woman. 
 But you're known as the woman that was talking with me 
 yesterday on the
 
 206 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Ami?" 
 
 " Yes ; and there's some scheme on foot to trap us, for 
 special orders have been given that you are not to be ar- 
 rested. They wouldn't do that unless they thought they 
 would gain something by letting you alone. Of course 
 you're followed and watched, every step you take." 
 
 "I'll tell you what it is, Thomas," said the woman, ris- 
 ing from her chair and approaching him. "I'm fright- 
 ened I If I should be caught now, I shall end my days in 
 the penitentiary. I've got enough to live on, and I'm 
 going away. Yes," she continued, as the man made a 
 deprecatory gesture, "I am going away, and this very 
 night, too ; I'm tired of the whole affair. I've lost heart 
 in it since I saw her this afternoon, with her fair, honest 
 face, so different from mine. I could scarcely believe, as I 
 looked at her, that the same blood runs in our veins." 
 
 "You go away, and leave your friends in the lurch ! 
 It's the first time you ever did such a thing. I wouldn't 
 have thought it of you." 
 
 "I've more at stake than you have. They can't do 
 anything with you, whereas, if I'm caught, it will be ten or 
 fifteen years, and I shall not live that long." 
 
 "I don't think you ought to go. You have it in your 
 power to get us all out, and to get the money too. What 
 did Todd settle with the girl this afternoon ?" 
 
 " I don't know, for I'm not allowed to see him. She 
 spent an hour or more with him, and fainted at the end 
 of the interview. I can't stand anything of that kind. If 
 I had known that she was as good and as beautiful as she 
 is, I could never have gone into the scheme." 
 
 " Well, you've gone too far now to back out." 
 
 "No, I'll back out whenever I choose. I'm my own 
 mistress yet, thank God ! " 
 
 " You know," said Johnson, without losing his temper, 
 " that I can stop you whenever I please."
 
 OX THE SCSQUEHA2TSA. L'JT 
 
 " Xo, I don't know anything of the kind." 
 
 "I've only got to teU Mr. Schwanger, when he conies 
 for you, that he can make fire hundred dollars very easily 
 hy taking you into custody, for that you are * Confidence 
 SU/ that "committed the great sneak jewelry robbery in 
 Philadelphia," 
 
 "Oh!" she exclaimed, with intense passion, though 
 still speaking in a voice not much louder than a whisper. 
 "You can ! True, so you can ; and I, in my torn, can 
 turn round and say, * Here is Mr. Tony Backett, otherwise 
 known as "Tony the Lifter/" 1 who committed the great 
 Chalmers Bank robbery two years ago, and by arresting 
 whom you can put another fire hundred dollars into your 
 pocket.' What would you say then, Tony, my dear ? ~ 
 
 "Fd say," answered the man, with a low laugh, " that 
 I had lost all confidence in women. But come, my dear, 
 it won ? t do for you and me to quarrel. We're too much at 
 stake. Sit down, and 111 soon convince you that you've 
 nothing to fear from the police, and that by going on with 
 the campaign you can achieve a victory all by yourself, and 
 get Alac and me out of this hole." 
 
 "Til listen to you," she said, resuming her seat, "but 
 I shall not change my mind." 
 
 " Well, all I ask is, that you hear what Fve got to say. 
 If, then, you decide that you win look after your own 
 safety, and leave your friends in the lurch, why, IT1 mj 
 nothing more. You know as well as I do that, when I 
 said I'd denounce you, I was joking." 
 
 "Tin not so sure of that However, m take your 
 word for it. Goon!" 
 
 " What I have to say can be said in a very few words. 
 It is this. Go at once, this night if yon can, to Miss 
 Honeywood, and declare yourself. Take your proofs with 
 you. They are strong enough to convince Mr. Honeywood 
 himself, if he were alive. They will establish your identity
 
 208 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 beyond all question. You will be immediately acknowl- 
 edged ; you will then have all the Honeywood interest on 
 our side, Mr. Wade, the district attorney, and all, to say 
 nothing of the sinews of war, money. You will accomplish 
 all that we have been driving at, and without the necessity 
 of resorting to arson, or abduction, or force of any kind. 
 After all, the straightforward way is the best, especially 
 when you can pursue it without risk." 
 
 The woman thought for some minutes without saying a 
 word. Evidently the idea struck her favorably. 
 
 "It looks well," she said at last, "and I don't think I 
 would hesitate, were it not that I am afraid for that affair 
 in Philadelphia. The police, as you say, arc looking for 
 me, and I might be taken at any moment." 
 
 "" You are safer in Miss Honey wood's house than any- 
 where else on the face of this earth. You're not such a 
 fool as not to see that, are you ? " 
 
 "I suppose I should be comparatively secure there," 
 she said, musingly. " But there's another thing. Alec has 
 all the letters, and I'm not allowed to see him." 
 
 " That's bad, but even that may be overcome. Old 
 Schwanger will be along directly to escort you down. Tell 
 him that Alec has some letters belonging to you, and ask 
 him to get them. He'll go up and see the letters, and he'll 
 find that they're addressed to Miss Sarah Mullin, one of 
 your names, you can say, and are of old dates, and he'll 
 bring them to you." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose he would. But didn't you say that 
 the Harrisburg police were watching me ?" 
 
 "Yes, but they're set on by the Honeywood interest, 
 and, as soon as they find you safe in the Honeywood man- 
 sion at the Susquehanna Iron-Works, they'll abandon the 
 scent." 
 
 " I shouldn't be surprised if Alec made some sort of an 
 arrangement with "her this afternoon. She was a long while
 
 OX THE SOBQtKHAXSJL 
 
 WeB, yM find ortas ML a. yo a* her .gala. 
 
 ^mrn tnriar fir rrt trrh nf hnr arrthrrfhia imm 
 
 Te& it vffl be TRT good. HI
 
 210 ON THE SUSQUEHANXA. 
 
 and when that is backed up by the documents you'll be 
 irresistible. " 
 
 " Am I, then, so very much like her ?" 
 
 "So Todd says. I've never had the pleasure of seeing 
 her, for, owing to the ruffian Benham, I .was nabbed the 
 very day I got there, and you frightened to death. By the 
 by, how did you get off ? This urgency of our affair has 
 made me forget your special trouble for the moment." 
 
 "No one interfered with me. In fact, I met "no one 
 till I had gone several miles on the way. I took a road 
 that led into the Jonestown road, and entered Harrisburg 
 by that way after the search was over. I left the buggy at 
 the livery-stable and walked to Mrs. Klinger's, in Rasp- 
 berry Alley, where I am still staying." 
 
 " You won't forget your old friends when you come 
 into part ownership of the Susquehanna Iron- Works, will 
 you, Sarah ? And you won't feel that you can do better 
 than to marry me ? " 
 
 " No, I'll not forget my promise ; I'll marry you inside 
 of three months, as I said I would." 
 
 " And then we'll settle down into a quiet life and live 
 according to law and gospel ? " 
 
 "Yes, I'm tired of the way I have lived for the last 
 twenty-five years or more. You know I'm not far from 
 sixty years of age fifty-seven last birthday." 
 
 " You don't look a day over forty." 
 
 " You'll think differently after we're married," she 
 said, with a smile. "Every year will show then. I'm 
 almost old enough to be your mother." 
 
 "A woman's as old as she looks, and no older. I am 
 forty-one, and you look forty. What's the objection to 
 that, I'd like to know ? " 
 
 " Oh, I've no objection, if you're satisfied." 
 
 "Then you've decided to stay and carry the thing 
 through ? "
 
 OB THE SCSQUZHASXA. 
 
 hesitating j, " I suppose so 
 
 train at 9.10; yon can 
 be then- bj half-past nice. The rest may safely he left to 
 JM. The woman thai got ahead of the father so sneees*- 
 feDy may v^ to trsrfed to manage the daughter." 
 
 "Yes, there would he no trouble on that score. It 
 would be easy enough to do it. Everything is in my faror ; 
 M, Tom * ifc was the fin* time in her life that she had 
 called him "Tom" "I hate to do h. Should die e'er 
 find oat what I am, it would be the death of her, and 
 though die has taken ererr means to find her mother, she 
 has acted from a sense of duty. She can not hare any 
 lore for such a mother as hers, and when I go to her and 
 say * I am your mother, 7 knowing as I do"* 
 
 " Now, Sarah," interrupted Johnson, "you are getting 
 sentimental again. Xow, in my experience, hnrinfim and 
 
 are ilwiliitrij incompatible. If yon can't go 
 the afiair in a rather cold-blooded sort of a way, 
 you'd better ghe it up." 
 
 "I can't help liking the girl, Tom ; die's my " 
 WeD, what if die is? Can't you dkzegazd the tks of 
 bkwd vhen yoi^re got so mnd^ depending on it as rests on 
 this matter? After iTs a& settled, awl you're fixed in 
 your position, it wfll he time mnagh for you to feel senti- 
 ment. Of course, yon should show it as soon as you meet, 
 but keep the upper hand of it, for, if it gets the upper 
 hand of you, we're gone!" 
 
 "What difference does it make whether or notlcon- 
 tiol my feefing for her ? * 
 
 run away with you, you'd just as likelr as not cry and sob, 
 and go down on jour knees to her and confess the whole 
 would we all be? Sow hush, for
 
 212 ON THE SUSQUEHANtfA. 
 
 " "Well, Mrs. L'Estrange, here I am, punctual to the 
 minute," said the jailer, good-naturedly, as he entered the 
 room. " I hope I don't cut short your conversation." 
 
 "No, we have got through," she answered. "But I 
 think," putting on a pleasant smile and, as she was still a 
 handsome woman and had brought all the resources of art 
 to make herself look younger than she really was, she 
 could smile pleasantly when she chose " I think you have 
 treated me very cruelly." 
 
 " How so ? " inquired Mr. Schwanger, reciprocating the 
 smile. "I never treat ladies cruelly if I can help it. 
 Sometimes I have to do things that go against the grain ; 
 but then, you know, Mrs. L'Estrange, duty comes before 
 pleasure." 
 
 " It certainly could have done no harm to allow me to 
 say a word to my poor brother." 
 
 " No, I don't suppose it would, but you see I have my 
 orders, and when a thing is put down for me in black and 
 white by my official superiors, I've got to go by it. Lord ! 
 if I had my way, you might talk to Alec all night if you 
 wanted to." 
 
 "I'd have to give up talking to him to-night, even if 
 your heart were as soft as mine, for I'm in a hurry. But 
 you can do something for me that will save me a great deal 
 of trouble. Alec has a lot of letters belonging to me. 
 They are old letters addressed to me as Miss Sarah Mullin. 
 Get them for me. This you can surely do without break- 
 ing your rules." 
 
 " Old letters, and addressed to you ? Well, I don't 
 see any objection to that. You'd better get them, too, for 
 to-morrow the district attorney will take possession of 
 everything, and then you'd have to go to him for them. 
 "Wait here till I come back. 1 guess, however, you'd better 
 write a line, and then he'll kno\v that I ain't fooling him." 
 
 Mrs. L'Estrange took a card from her pocket-book and
 
 OS THE SUSQUZHAXXA. i 3 
 
 hastily wrote a request to Todd to deliver the letters to Mr. 
 Schwanger, adding the words, I'm sorry for you." 
 
 The Jailer looked at the writing long and closely. 
 "This is a little more than we bargained for," he aid. 
 "However, Ffl let it go ; but of course he knows you're 
 sorry for him." 
 
 " liow," said Johnson, as soon as the man was out of 
 hearing, "go at once. Do your best. I know what yon 
 can do when yonr heart's in your work. You'll find her 
 at home, alone. Mr. Wade's in the city, and Ben ham 
 doesn't go out at night, s I hear. I can't tell you how 
 to do it, for you know better than I do. How do you 
 think youTl work it ? 
 
 " How do I know ? ** said the woman, moodily. " Don't 
 ask me anything more about it, as I may give it up. It's 
 the worst piece of work I ever undertook. My heart's not 
 in it, Tom, and it's no use for me to deceive you or to try 
 to deceive myself. If I hadn't seen her to-day with the 
 troubled look on her face, and the tears glistening in her 
 sweet eyes, I could go to the business with more spirit ; 
 but, as it is, Fm afraid 111 break down and spoil the whole 
 thing, and then youll lit sorry that you made me go." 
 
 *" It won't go wrong if youTl keep your sentiment down, 
 and, when it comes to the pinch, Fin not afraid that you 
 won't do iL You're not a fool, and when yon find that 
 there's danger if you give way to all that nonsense that 
 you've got in you, youll manage to master it as sure as" 
 
 "Hush ! here comes Sehwanger. Well* to the jafler, 
 as be approached "and you got the letters ? Yes, I see 
 you did. Thai's very kind of you, and 111 forgive you for 
 not letting me see my brother. You didn't bring me any 
 message, did you?" 
 
 "Only," said the jailer, handing her the package of 
 letters, the same that Todd had exhibited to Alana " only 
 that he wants you to get him a finfc-daas lawyer at once."
 
 214 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " Yes, I'll attend to it. Good-night, Mr. Schwanger. 
 Many thanks. Good-night, Mr. Johnson. I'll try and see 
 you to-morrow." 
 
 She had still a quarter of an hour to spare before the 
 train that was to take her tc the Susquehanna Iron-Works 
 was due. She would have liked to go to her lodgings and 
 make some little alteration in her dress, but there was not 
 time for that ; and, moreover, upon reflection, she con- 
 cluded that any great degree of neatness or of elegance 
 about her attire would not be in consonance with the part 
 she had to play. As she stepped out of the jail she looked 
 around for a cab, but not finding one in sight and if she 
 had been fully acquainted with Harrisburg she would have 
 saved herself the trouble of looking she descended to the 
 sidewalk, and, turning to the right, went toward Third 
 Street. Down Third Street she walked not rapidly, for 
 there was plenty of time to Market, and then, turning to 
 her left, soon reached the railway-station. A solitary 
 policeman was walking up and down in front of the en- 
 trance, but he took no notice of her, and she went in and 
 bought her ticket. In less than five minutes the train 
 came rolling into the station, and in five more minutes she 
 was on her way to the Susquehanna Iron-Works. 
 
 She tried to arrange in her mind a plan of procedure as 
 the train dashed on, but she found it a difficult undertak- 
 ing. Indeed, in all the affairs in which she had heretofore 
 been engaged she had found it better to leave the details of 
 her operations to be spontaneously evolved out of the cir- 
 cumstances of the events, rather than to plan them before- 
 hand from insufficient data. In the present instance she 
 knew absolutely nothing of Alana's surroundings, of her 
 habits, her mode of life, her character even. She had 
 reason to believe that she was gentle, and anxious from a 
 sense of duty to find her mother, and she had still greater 
 reason for believing that the realization of her wish in this
 
 OS THE SUSQFEHAXyjL 215 
 
 RBpectwouU tea great shock to her. Evidently the case 
 was a difficult one, no matter from what standpoint she 
 viewed it ; bat thai she was a woman of infinite resources 
 and of strong dramatic instincts. She had softened many 
 obdurate hearts in her day b j a look, a gesture, or a tone, 
 employed at exactly the right time, and in the right way. 
 She had been repeatedly acquitted of offenses of which she 
 was clearly guilty, by a mate appeal to the twelve men in 
 the jury-box, that, in spite of the evidence against her. car- 
 ried with it something that induced them to give a verdict 
 in her favor, or else to do what was almost as good for 
 her disagree. 
 
 Again, she had, when ordered to stand up and to say 
 what she pleased in her own behalf, previously to receiving 
 the sentence that was to consign her to the Suite's prison, 
 risen to her feet, and, with streaming eyes, bowed head, 
 and clasped hands, stood the very personification of re- 
 pentance, and had so acted upon the heart of the judge 
 that he had lessened by one half the term of confinement 
 that he had intended to give her. It would be strange, 
 she thought, as these and many similar instances of her 
 power came to her mind, if she could not more the heart 
 of Alana Honeywood to regard her with favor. 
 
 It was half-past nine when she arrived at the Susque- 
 hanna Iron- Works. There were no persons on the plat- 
 form but the station-master and a couple of other railway 
 officials, and they were too busy attending to their own 
 affairs to trouble themselves with hers. The night was 
 dark, and there were no street-lamps : but she knew where 
 the main street was, and she had a correct idea of the 
 situation of the house that she intended to make the scene 
 of her demonstrations. All the little shops were closed, 
 but the lights were still burning in the tavern. She 
 paused as she came opposite to this, the only public lodg- 
 ing-place for strangers in the village, and at first thought 
 10
 
 216 ON THE SUSQUEHANXA. 
 
 that she would go in and secure a room for the night ere 
 the doors were closed ; but reflection told her that such an 
 act could only be justified by an anticipation of failure, 
 and she did not mean to fail. Finally, she reached the 
 grounds in which Alana's house stood. The gate was 
 open. She entered, and, following the flagged path that 
 led to the front door, stood at last on the broad veranda 
 that entirely surrounded the building. 
 
 There was still a light in the hall, as there was also in 
 the room on the right of the entrance. The curtains, 
 however, were drawn close, so that, though she tried her 
 utmost, she could not obtain the slightest view of the in- 
 terior. Then she put her ear close to the window and list- 
 ened. At times she thought she detected the soft hum of 
 conversation, and once was sure she heard a woman's sob 
 or suppressed moan, but she could not distinguish a word 
 of what was being said. Then she went round to the back 
 of the house. The servants were still up, for there were 
 loud voices and laughing in the kitchen and other rooms 
 devoted to household purposes, but the doors and heavy, 
 solid shutters, so generally used in that part of Pennsyl- 
 vania, were closed, and again she was prevented seeing 
 anything of the occupants. Retracing her steps, she ar- 
 rived a second time at the front of the house. Even yet 
 she had formed no clear conception of what she was going 
 to do. Obviously, however, the first thing to do was to 
 get jnto the house. She felt for the knob of the door-bell 
 and was just about to pull it, when she heard a voice in- 
 side, as if of some one walking in the hall, She had 
 barely time to shrink back against the wall so as to be in. 
 almost complete darkness when the door opened and a man 
 passed out, and, crossing the veranda, descended the steps 
 and was soon lost in the blackness of the night. She 
 waited until his footsteps on the flagging were no longer 
 to be heard, then ehe boldly turned Pgain toward the door,
 
 03T THE SrSQUEHASKA. 217 
 
 the bell-handle gare it a rigorous puB. She 
 could bear the sound of the bell in the distance, and then 
 the steps of some one approaching over the tiled floor of 
 the halL Then the door was opened and a flood of light 
 from a hanging lamp fell fall in her face. 
 
 << Is Miss Honey wood at home ? * she inquired. 
 
 "Yea," IBIIII il the man, evidently taking her for the 
 wife of one of the workmen ; " but she can't see you to- 
 night. YouTl hare to call in the morning." 
 
 "Bat I must see her to-night, for I hare business of 
 great importance with her. 
 
 "I don't believe shell see you, but you can step into 
 Hie reception-room, and 111 see. Will you give me your 
 nane?" 
 
 "Xo, if s of no consequence now. Tell her that an 
 old friend wishes to see her." 
 
 He ushered her into a room on the side of the haU 
 opposite to that of the one in which she had seen the light 
 and heard the sounds. A lamp on a table burned low. 
 She had hardly more than seated herself, when the man re- 
 
 . Miss Honeywood," he said, is not Terr well tonight, 
 and begs that yon wffl excuse her till morning.'' 
 
 "Did you teU her that my business was of impor- 
 tance?* 
 
 "Yea, I told her that you said yon had important bud- 
 ness with her, and she says that, if yon can not wait till 
 morning, to go to Mr. Benham about it." 
 
 "Please go back and say to her that my business is 
 with her personally, and that it is indispensable that I 
 should see her to-night." 
 
 The man departed on his errand, and it was some min- 
 utes before he came back. When he returned be said : 
 
 "Miss Honeywood wffl see TOO. Walk this way,
 
 218 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 She followed him across the hall, and he, throwing 
 open the wide door, she found herself in a large room, with 
 Alana Honeywood standing in the center of the floor. 
 The man shut the door and hastily left the house, going in 
 the direction of Benham's dwelling.
 
 CHAPTER JtVL 
 
 -i".-: ::-: L-L - 1 - 
 :_:: - irv .1-1-- :: ir.ir :: 
 at the seen* of JJaufe OMI- 
 of 
 oeemadtaber 
 
 ^ 
 
 to IK
 
 220 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 ficient to decide the question. The claim, to be established, 
 must have stronger grounds to rest upon than these. At 
 any rate, relatives or not, they were enemies, and it was 
 necessary for the well-being of the woman he loved that 
 their machinations should be prevented. To effect this 
 object, with the utmost possible efficiency and dispatch, 
 she and her friends must act in concert, and of course be- 
 fore they could do this there must be perfect confidence 
 among them. This was his reasoning, as he walked by 
 Alana's side from the tea-room to the drawing-room, and 
 that caused him to resolve to take the decisive step of ask- 
 ing her to unburden her mind to -him. 
 
 But Alana had also been thinking. To live on, meet- 
 ing Benb.am day after day, and yet withholding from him 
 all knowledge of a secret that she now felt he ought to 
 know, was no longer to be thought of. She had definitely 
 determined, during the last few minutes that she had sat at 
 the tea-table, that it was her duty to refuse to marry him. 
 She would not announce this decision to him without giv- 
 ing him the full story of her shameful origin and connec- 
 tions. Then he would know, no matter how much he 
 might love her, that one coming as she did, bearing a load of 
 infamy that others had placed upon her, but which for all 
 that was none the less hers, was not the woman to be his 
 wife. No, no, he would not know this. He would plead 
 with her ; she felt sure he would tell her that she was the 
 same to him whether she owed her origin to the highest or 
 the lowest of mankind ; whether her relatives were saints 
 or sinners ; but she would be firm. She knew where his 
 honor was to be found, and she would sec that no act of 
 hers should tarnish its brightness. 
 
 We have seen how she had been first of one mind, and 
 then of another, like all persons whose hearts and intellects 
 are at variance. In the beginning, she had thought that 
 she could enjoy her new relations with the man she loved,
 
 03T THE SOSQTEHA5YA. 
 
 tinwrentring to tefl hint all before he 
 
 :_; : :: -: :_:. - :: -.::. r:: 
 
 convinced tbat there was but one cm 
 woman to pursue. She bad considered the subject in 
 its bearings and in all its pnnJKiW Longer delay 
 would be an outrage upon him. and di^srace to her. Her 
 iWiin 1^ fct*CT ^a*f j, upHI * V T*irry ^-" * faM 
 
 It would not be ncceimij, aft this time, for her to go 
 into aU the detaib cf her family history. These could be 
 given him at any time, should be decide to know them. 
 The eaxntial facts could be stated in few vonfau They 
 
 on bis mind, and he should know them be- 
 fore he left the home that night 
 
 That be would be shocked, she kne rerv wtB; that he 
 would tarn from ber in degant, ahe did not before. For 
 an that she had resolved to refnae to he his wife, she 
 craTed his lore with a degree of intensity that was painfnl 
 toher. Ifheshould itwasnot tobetlxKightof hat if 
 be abanbT iimyl bin iiiiii mm, wiftont malting an cafart to 
 ehaii^ it, then ber angu^ai>d humiliation would be com- 
 plete. Death itself wonU be preferable to that. 
 
 They stood in front of the coal-fire thai burned brightly 
 in die grate, She meant to tefl him ber story with as 
 
 any appeal to his km or hk pity. The day's 
 I given her strength, or rather it bad nance* 
 
 Wat InVtt nnnnnWMMnValnnW Va% nnnn*inn *wnnraKnnnntWM9 ^aV a^nWannm JJ* nrlfe nf^ft *t 
 
 -- .--::::: :^ vxr-rv-i. ~i;- ::--.-_:.;: i^ 5.:a:i-:v: 
 the skin, even a red^ot coal k not ML
 
 222 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Ah, now that the time had come for her to speak, how 
 hard it was for her to begin a recital that would bring the 
 blood of shame to her cheeks, and put an end to the career 
 of happiness, upon which, for a little while, she had thought 
 she had entered ! It had to be done. There was no escape. 
 What would he say and do ? She asked herself this ques- 
 tion for the hundredth time. Well, she would know, before 
 she had half finished, what his thoughts were, and whether 
 or not he loved her for herself, with all her imperfections, 
 and with all the shame that clung to her. 
 
 "There is something," she said, "that intimately con- 
 cerns me, and that you ought to know. It is a sad and a 
 shameful story, but it is one that I must tell you, for it is 
 my only justification for what I am about to do. Perhaps 
 I should have told you this, when you first spoke to me of 
 your love, but I did not know as much of it as I know now : 
 and, besides, your words were so sweet to my ears, that for 
 a while I fancied that I might not have to tell you at all. 
 I shrank from doing aught that might make me lose your 
 affection. You can understand that that " 
 
 He had fixed his eyes on hers from the moment that 
 she had begun to speak, and when she hesitated for a 
 moment, and lowered her eyes from his, he took her 
 head between his hands and, bending forward, kissed her 
 lips. 
 
 "There is nothing you can tell me," he said, with all 
 his strong feeling, " that can lessen my love for you, or 
 shake my confidence in your truth or your honor. There 
 may be others not so true and not so honorable, but what 
 is that to you and me ? " 
 
 " God bless you, my love, for those words ! " she said, 
 still by a wonderful effort preserving her calmness, for she 
 felt as though she would like to throw herself into his arms 
 and sob out her emotion on his breast. But she would not, 
 even then, tell him that there was no crime or sin for her
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 223 
 
 to reproach herself with. He must find that out for him- 
 self, as he heaid her story. 
 
 "My father, on his death-bed," she continued, white 
 her face became crimson, as she told the story of what she 
 thought was her shame, "revealed to me the fact that I 
 was not born in wedlock. Before he could acquaint me 
 with my mother's address, he was dead. He said enough, 
 ere he left this world, to make it very certain to my mind 
 that my mother was a wicked woman, one whose life had 
 been impure, and shameful, and criminal It was through 
 no fault of his that he was not married. She refused to be 
 his wife, in order that she might plunge still deeper into 
 the depths of the infamous course upon which she had en- 
 tered." 
 
 " Alana, my darling ! " cried Benham, while every fiber 
 of his being thrilled with emotion. " Purity itself is not 
 purer than you. What is afl ? " 
 
 "For God's sake do not speak to me yet!" she ex- 
 claimed, as she stepped backward, for he would hare taken 
 her in his arms and pressed her to his heart " or or I 
 shall nerer hare the strength to tell it through to the end. 
 No, no !" as he followed her with outstretched arms, and 
 the love-light in his eyes. " Do not touch me ! Wait tfll 
 you hear alL Then perhaps you wfll hide your face from 
 me and flee in horror from the house." 
 
 "Abna!" 
 
 It was only one word, but he had put into it a world of 
 reproach. He turned from her, and. going to the mantel- 
 piece, bowed his head upon it, white his whole frame trem- 
 bled with the emotions that held him in bondage. 
 
 But the words were no sooner out of her mouth than 
 she comprehended the wrong they did to him, and she 
 could have torn her tongue out for having spoken them. 
 
 "John !" she said, approaching him but not touching 
 him, and still speaking with the forced calmness that seemed
 
 224: ON THE SUSQUEHAKtfA. 
 
 to have become automatic with her, "I did not know what 
 I was saying. John!" she continued, clasping her 
 hands together, " pardon me those cruel words. Look at 
 me once again. I dare not trust myself to say what is in 
 my heart. But I am not myself. You must know that. 
 There has been so much to bear that not even the happi- 
 ness that came to me this morning when you told me you 
 loved me has sufficed to make me quite myself. John," 
 coming still nearer to him, and now the tears streaming 
 from her eyes, and her voice becoming low and husky, 
 "for the love of God let me see your face once more, or I 
 think I shall die here at your feet !" 
 
 "No," he cried, turning, and this time clasping her 
 unresistingly in his arms, while he kissed her lips, her 
 eyes, her hair "no, you shall not die. You shall live to 
 be my sweet, my honored wife. Oh, my darling, my dar- 
 ling, did you think for one moment that my love was so 
 frail a thing that it would go down in any storm that 
 others could raise ? What is it all to you and to me ? You 
 are mine. You gave yourself to me this morning, and 
 mine you shall be, please God, till the sod covers one of us ! " 
 
 "But you have not heard all yet. The rest is just as 
 bad, perhaps worse than what I have told you." She 
 smiled as she spoke, and, throwing her arms around his 
 neck, drew his head down and kissed him. 
 
 " Well, you shall tell me all, and then I will tell you 
 some things that have come to my knowledge, and then 
 we will advise together what we shall do." 
 
 " Ah ! how can I hold out against you ? I had re- 
 solved that I would relate the whole sad story of my origin, 
 and of the ties that still hold me down far below the plane 
 on which you stand, and make no sign of my love for you, 
 but I had miscalculated my strength. I could not do it. 
 Now I shall stand here with your arms around me, and tell 
 you the rest.
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. ^'j 
 
 " Mr father," die vent on, after a little panae, "would 
 hare married mj mother on his death-bed had she been 
 present, but, as I said, he died before he could reveal her 
 address to me. But her name he told me. It is Sarah 
 Mollin. For many years he had sent her money, bat 
 when, after his death, I tried to discover her, all my 
 efforts were in vain. Not a trace of her could be found. 
 Once she came to the village, several years ago, accom- 
 panied by her brother. I saw him, at the time, in this 
 house. I have seen him to-day. I saw him yesterday. 
 He is the man from whose violence you saved me. 
 
 "This morning he sent for me to visit him in the jail 
 There is no doubt that he is my uncle. He knows where 
 my mother is. She has been in prison ; has probably just 
 been released. He is to arrange for her coming to me at 
 least, that was the agreement between us ; but now that be 
 is held on the charge of murder, I do not know how it will 
 be. But I have seen her, I am quite sure, though I did 
 not get a sight of her face. She brought the letter from 
 from the man in jafl, and took back my answer. 
 
 " Now you know alL I am, as you perceive, the ille- 
 gitimate daughter of a convict woman, and the niece of a 
 murderer. Now you can understand how I have suffered 
 since I knew you loved me, and how unworthy of that lore 
 I fed." She bowed her head as she spoke these words, 
 and, with her hands clasped, stood before him in an atti- 
 tude of profound humiliation. 
 
 That you should suffer, and suffer keenly, is a matter 
 of course," he said, taking both her hands in "his, and lay- 
 ing them over his heart ; ''but I shaH help yon to forget 
 your sorrow. The stain that rests on others has not imofrj 
 to your pure soul, which, white as that of an angel, shall 
 yet enjoy the happiness that fife has to offer. Come, look 
 up! Here in mj heart is your home. 1 wffl stand be- 
 tween you and afl harm. Give me that right at once, Be
 
 226 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 my wife to-morrow, and together we will fight our enemies, 
 and, with God's help, we shall conquer them." 
 
 "Yes, if I could rest here forever," she said, in a voice 
 broken by emotion, as she laid her head on his breast, "I 
 should ask for no greater happiness. But you do not 
 think of what you are saying. Your love, dear, makes 
 you blind. You forget that my mother lives, that at any 
 moment she may come to me ; that if I marry you, you 
 would have her as an inmate of your house, and be sub- 
 jected to all the association that her relationship to me im- 
 plies. There may be crimes that she has committed, and 
 for which the officers of the law are seeking to arrest her. 
 She might be dragged to a prison from under your eyes. 
 Your love is sweeter to me yes, I will say it, for it is true 
 sweeter than the love of God. It breaks my heart to 
 say what it is my duty to say, but I love you too much to 
 disgrace you. I can not be your wife. " 
 
 " But you must be my wife ! I knew, before you told 
 me, that the ruffian Todd claimed to be your uncle ; I 
 knew that a woman, his confederate, whom I have seen 
 and heard confessing her designs upon you, was probably 
 your mother. I knew these things before I asked you to 
 be my wife. What if their blood does run in your veins ? 
 It has not poisoned you. You are proof against its ven- 
 om. I told you just now, when you questioned me as to 
 what I would do if your father had been an infamous 
 man, that the fact would not change my love, for that 
 you are good and true, and I say the same now, when it 
 is your mother who is bad. You will do your duty to 
 her, and I shall help you to do it. "Who knows but that 
 in time she may become worthy to have you for her 
 daughter ? " 
 
 " I can not disgrace you before the world as I should 
 were I to marry you. Love you I always shall, and, when 
 I tell you, as I do now, of my irrevocable decision, I know
 
 IHE SH8SQPEHA33TJL M 7 
 
 it is not ahezdy 
 
 "Xo, dear, JTOST heat dual mot break; and you shall 
 maBsyme. Bant yptt are pale, amd yan are toiriiKiig Eke a 
 hwf. m lax, or lather, fie down on the ao^ ntd giie 
 me a fitde *"-^ to dunk. 9 
 
 He led her to lie sofa, and, Baking her fie dam, pbccd 
 a soft creation vnder bcr bead. "Xow,* toesaai "stay 
 qaieifytflllcanebadL Fm goiiig to breathe * 14- 
 coU air." He kt the moot, and die could near his 
 he paced vp and down the TExanda in front of the 
 e. In firo wriimtffa; he mas with her agam. 
 I did not want anymore fight as to how I should 
 
 sat down hj her ade. "I wauled to efear my hnin m as 
 to he eaahkd to place the natter before joa as it abonld be 
 placed. I an the brat judge of what wifl dngnee me, 
 
 it wHl ot tibe better part of i^ and that aU TOO or I 
 ted care for comider jam. Ji^mjiJ if yon acknowiedge 
 am niiaf,aMilhfi. and seek to bring her'back to a moni 
 life. ItwvdttBmmABmvofadK^neetoineifliaiMld 
 he > base as to let yoei @o from my heazt heeamse yon hxte 
 
 ** xesv OK and, tacie B va> dovK tMB 
 de. I harem* him, talked with him, awl 
 me aone of his proofs. MoBeoier, he has 
 'tome.**
 
 228 ON THE SCSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " This was in the jail yesterday ?" 
 
 " Yes, I spent more than an hour with him, and then 
 he was charged with the murder of his wife, and then 
 then I think I must have fainted." 
 
 " My poor darling ! You have indeed had enough to 
 trouble you. Now," he continued, " let us face this matter 
 together, like brave and honest people, anxious to do our 
 full duty, and at the same time to secure our happiness. 
 As I said just now, I have some knowledge of what you 
 have told me." 
 
 Then, in as few words as possible, he informed her of 
 what he had discovered on Pet3r's Mountain, of the incar- 
 ceration of the man and the escape of the woman doubt- 
 less, as he said, the one that had brought her the message 
 from Todd, and that would put in a claim to being her 
 mother. Then he told her of Miss Pink's contributions to 
 a knowledge of the subject, of Todd's attempt to excite a 
 strike among the workmen in the Colerain mine, of his 
 conversation with Mr. Wade, and of his intention to confer 
 with him further. 
 
 "We can not," he continued, "allow these people to 
 make good their claims merely by their assertions, and by 
 personal resemblances that may only be accidental. They 
 must establish them in the most irrefutable manner. 
 They must account for every day since your father knew 
 them ; they must show why they began their operations 
 here by entering into a conspiracy to abduct yon, and what 
 the man I caught on Peter's Mountain has to do with the 
 matter. Who knows but that they are three swindlers, 
 three criminals, whose only object is money ? Did Todd 
 ask you for money ? " 
 
 "Yes, I am to give him fifty thousand dollars, and he is 
 to produce my mother, and forever after keep out of my 
 way." 
 
 " My poor child, you have put yourself into the hands
 
 ox TBK SUSQUEHA^JL ::^ 
 
 of a villain ; or, rather, yon would hare placed yourself in 
 his hands, if the law had not, by detaining him for mur- 
 der, put it oat of his power to carry oat his part of the bar- 
 gun. Too wfll be safe enough from him now, for he win 
 probably paw the rest of his fife in the State's prison. 
 You ought not to hare gone to the jail. You are not fit 
 to cope single-handed with such people.'' 
 
 " Mr. Wade asked me not to go. " 
 
 "Mr. Wade was right. He suspected that they would 
 trj to entrap yoa into some arrangement by which they 
 could get money." 
 
 "I am sore the man is my uncle. He showed me many 
 letters that had contained checks sent by my father to my 
 mother. I know the handwriting." 
 
 "To whom were they addressed ?" 
 
 "To Miss Sarah Muffin, although she was at the time 
 going by another name. My father told me that." 
 
 * You did not see the face of the woman that brought 
 the fetter from Todd?" 
 
 "Xo, she kept her TcQ down. 7 * 
 
 " I saw it, and I would know her again among thou- 
 
 " She is like me?" 
 
 "Yes, she resembles you, and she is stffl more like 
 Todd." 
 
 * I am sure she is my mother. 7 ' 
 
 " WeU, we shall see. It is possible that they are both 
 rfle impostors engaged in a bold attempt at fraud. Xow, 
 wfll you make me a promise ?" 
 
 " I wfll promise anything you ask except to marry you. 
 I can not bring you down to my lereL My lore for yon is 
 too great for that I see my degrading associations too 
 TiridlyyeL If you were to ask me to inflict horrible tor- 
 tures upon you, and to stand by and witness your agonies, 
 you would not expect me to comply. How much lees,
 
 230 ON" THE SUSQUEHAHNA. 
 
 then, should I obey you when you command that I should 
 torture your soul, and in all the years that we should live 
 together, be a spectator of your suffering, and feel that 
 your anguish is my doing ! No, no, I can not ! " 
 
 " Suppose," he said, stroking her hair with one hand, 
 while the other held hers fast in its clasp "suppose I 
 were to say to you, * Let us leave this place for some other 
 where we are not known, and where as man and wife we 
 can live together safe from the scandal-mongers who might 
 if we remained here make us the subjects of their venom- 
 ous tattle,' would you go with me ? " 
 
 " Yes," she exclaimed, while she threw her arms 
 around his neck and drew his head to her breast. "I 
 would go this night, this very instant ! I would leave all 
 the resb behind, so that I had but you ; but I can not dis- 
 grace you and your children by making it possible for man 
 or woman to say, ' There goes the man who married Alana 
 Honeywood, her real name being Mullin, whose father was 
 never married to her mother, whose mother was was a 
 harlot I might as well speak the word that, they would 
 speak and a convict ; whose uncle murdered his wife, and 
 is now in the penitentiary for the crime'' or to point to 
 your children and mine, honorably born of our lawful and 
 sinless love, to say those things of them, and perhaps even 
 to taunt them with their shameful origin. No, no, I can 
 not do it ! " 
 
 "Well, my darling," he said, gravely but tenderly, "if 
 I do not, in ten days, unmask these people, and show them 
 to you as the impostors I believe them to be, I shall hold 
 you to the pledge you have just made, and we will depart 
 to some distant spot, where we can live in the conscious- 
 ness of our own rectitude, and bring up the children that 
 God may give us without the fear of a stigma resting upon 
 them, or of their being subjected to cruel insults. Kemem- 
 ber, however, that I shall do this for your sake, at the same
 
 O3f THE SCSQTEHJLSy JL _ \ 
 
 to 
 
 expect ycm to 
 .vwife.no 
 ay hare 
 
 3fo/* aeeiag that she was ; 
 ernow. We hare at lass arrmd at an 
 we wffl kfc the Matter icrttiU the time comes feraet- 
 wpomilL What I waa going to ask of yon is not what 
 
 rat JVM, or attempt; to hare an iutteiiie with 
 yum. The MB whom I caught at Peter's Mountain ap- 
 peals tome to he the If"* 8 *** of the tiamiiii iim n, and the 
 mwt cmnni^ and oaBgEnMB. Ut IB not pmbaMe that he 
 :;n. '-'V i::._vv- --..::-: i:~ :'.: _^~ : . :. - ".;:_ . : i. 
 as he wffl dodbtles get baSLand it wowld be difficult to 
 pvonre the rriifrarr of the eoHpnej. Xow, promise me 
 hy the JOTB that pm bear me, thai yo* wffl not, a> fu- as 
 JOB eaa exert any power, aliow any one of ihese people to 
 with TOO withoot either ilr. Wade or mj^f be- 
 
 heamlj. I wfll not aBow aa j one of 
 me wateas TOQ are preaant. I cm 
 fide in yo, and in TM alone," 
 
 "Thanks, dear !" He kiaed her, and 109 to hs feet 
 "Good-night!' he continaed, Lofldis^ oot his hand 10 
 her. ^Yoahaienadatzonblottsday^and joaaiewearr. 
 Toaneedre^L Go and take it, and tare TOOT sonows to 
 
 Goodnight,
 
 232 Otf THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "John!" she cried, rising and following him, as he 
 went toward the door. 
 
 "No," he answered, perhaps divining what she was 
 about to say. " Not now ; wait till I have exposed these 
 people or have failed in the attempt. I have pushed you 
 too hard. You shall give me your answer in ten days, and 
 then your intellect will agree with your heart. In ten days 
 you shall be my promised wife, and our home shall be here 
 with our friends around us, or in some place where we are 
 strangers." 
 
 He turned and left the room, while she stood with her 
 hands covering her face, and the tears streaming through 
 her white fingers. 
 
 '
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 WHEST Mrs. I/Estrange, as for the present we shall con- 
 tinue to call her, entered the drawing-room, Alana was 
 standing almost in the place that she had occupied when 
 Benham had left the room only a few minutes before. She 
 had, on his departure, thrown herself on the sofa, and had 
 giTen way to a paroxysm of weeping ; but, at the sound of 
 the door-bell, she had recoTered herself, and had began to as- 
 sume an appearance of calmness. When Abram announced 
 a visitor, she sent word that she was not well, and had re- 
 ferred her to Benham, under the supposition that the busi- 
 ness, alleged as an excuse for so late a visit, related either 
 to the approaching funeral of Mrs. Todd, or to some matter 
 connected with the dwelling of one of the workmen. But 
 the persistency of the woman had to some extent roused 
 her suspicions, and she had accordingly, while directing her 
 to be admitted, sent Abram for Benham, in fulfillment of 
 the promise she had just made to him. 
 
 Mrs. L'Estrange gave one glance around the apartment, 
 for the purpose, apparently, of making sure that they were 
 alone, and then, clasping her hands before her, she stood 
 with bowed head, as she had several times stood before the 
 judge on the bench, to receive his sentence, and, as she had 
 had good reason to believe, not without exciting his com- 
 passion. 
 
 One look was sufficient to reveal to Alana the fact that, 
 in the humble and apparently contrite woman that stood
 
 234: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 before her, she saw the one that had brought her Todd's 
 letter, and the one that was probably her mother. 
 
 "I cannot speak with you now," she said ; "I have 
 sent for a friend to be present at this interview. Sit down, 
 please ; he will be here in a moment." John Benham's 
 words to her had served to put her on her guard. She did 
 not intend to give way to any filial feeling till all doubt 
 in her mind relative to the woman's identity with her 
 mother was removed. She was hardening her heart to the 
 utmost of her ability. 
 
 " Alana," said the woman, without noticing the words 
 addressed to her, and speaking in a singularly soft and 
 musical voice, "my child, I have come to atone, if I can, 
 in your sweet presence, for all the sins of a wicked life, for 
 for lam your mother." 
 
 " I do not know. How should I know ? If you are 
 my mother, it seems to me that I should be the last one to 
 whom you should come. You deserted me in my infancy, 
 you wrecked my dear father's life, you have passed your 
 days in sin and shame ; and now, after the lapse of a quar- 
 ter of a century, when your hair has grown gray in vice, 
 and when you have just been released from prison, you 
 come to me and speak of atoning for your infamous life ! 
 If, on the other hand, you are not my mother, what are 
 you, then, but an impostor, to be put out of my house ? " 
 
 "My God," cried the woman, throwing up her hands, 
 as though in horror at what she had heard, " this from a 
 daughter to her mother ! Now I know that you are in 
 very truth my child. The Mullin blood runs through 
 every vein of your body." 
 
 "Yes," answered Alana, bitterly, "it does. I have 
 you,, or one equally depraved, to thank for that, and, 
 thank God, too, I am able to stand here to-night and tell 
 you so ! You say you are my mother. I do not believe it. 
 The Almighty Father, who is just to his creatures, would
 
 OX THE SrSQUZHAXSJL 235 
 
 not have permitted my mother to lire and to come here to 
 taunt me with the shame of being her daughter ! ~ 
 
 ' I am your mother, Alana ! ** dropping on her knees 
 and raising her hands piteously. " For the lore of God, 
 give me a chance ! See ! I am on my knees before TOO. 
 A mother kneels to her daughter and implores mercy ! 
 Oh, my child, my child, look at me," tearing off her bon- 
 net and brushing back the hair from her face, *'* look at me 
 and see your own image. Your father loved me once. He 
 was kind, but you are as cruel as the grave ! " 
 
 Alana clasped her hands and looked imploringly toward 
 the door. Why did he not come ? What was she to do ? 
 She felt that she was yielding. Her heart was beginning 
 to soften ; the first thrills of filial love were springing up in 
 her breast. She looked closely into the countenance of the 
 plrading .woman who still knelt upon the floor. Yes, it 
 was so. She must be her mother, or why the wonderful 
 resemblance to herself that she saw in every feature of the 
 face before her ? She was about to yield, to rush forward, 
 and, raising the woman from her knees, clasp her to her 
 heart, when something in the expression of the suppliant 
 caused her to restrain herself, and again raised her doubts. 
 What it was that she saw she could not then or ever after- 
 ward exactly determine. It might have been a look of tri- 
 umph, or of cunning, or of insincerity, something that had 
 at any rate struck her with overpowering force. 
 
 <-Xo," she said, assuming the hard and pitiless tone 
 that had characterised afl that she had heretofore said 
 "no, you are not my mother. My mother left me an 
 infant in the poor-house to be brought up as a pauper. 
 But for her I should this moment be the promised wife 
 of a man whose shoe-strings you, whether mother or im- 
 postor, are not worthy to loosen. She would not even at 
 this late day desire to lead a virtuous life. The taint of 
 sin was too deeply implanted in her soul for repentance
 
 236 ON TIIE SUBQTJEHANNA. 
 
 ever to spring up within her. She even refused the hon- 
 orable marriage that my father offered her. She had begun 
 life as a harlot, and as a harlot she preferred to remain." 
 
 "That is false!" cried the woman, springing to her 
 feet and looking defiance at the girl, who had covered her 
 face with her hands for very shame at the words she hud 
 uttered. "That is false!" she repeated. "I was mar-. 
 ried to him, lawfully married, and, if he was too drunk at 
 the time to know what he was doing, it was none the less a 
 legal marriage, and I am here as his widow to claim my 
 lawful rights. I have appealed to your heart in vain. I 
 hoped, fondly hoped, that there might be a spark of a 
 daughter's love in your breast for an erring mother, desir- 
 ous of leading a new life, but in the place of such a child 
 as I thought to find, I discover to my horror that I have 
 given birth to a monster that God in his infinite mercy 
 separated from me when she was too young to exhibit the 
 callousness of her stony heart, but that for some wise pur- 
 pose of his own he has permitted to insult me in my old 
 age." 
 
 "My father married, did you say ? Married to you ?" 
 
 " Ah, then, there is something that can rouse you ! 
 Yes, married to me, your mother ! Since I have failed to 
 touch your heart, perhaps your mind may be interested in 
 the proofs I have here that all that I have alleged is 
 true." 
 
 Alana sprang forward at the words, while the woman as 
 she was speaking took from the pockets of her frock two 
 bundles of letters and papers which she proceeded to undo. 
 
 But before she was able to do much in that direction, 
 Benham had entered the room, and seeing at a glance the 
 relative situations of the parties, and the effort that the 
 woman was making to open her packages of documents, at 
 once took in all the points of the occasion, and was advanc- 
 ing to take part in the discussion, when Alana saw him.
 
 OS THE SrSQUEHAS^A. -237 
 
 "I tried to keep my promise, 1 * die said to him. "I 
 sent for yon as soon as this woman came. 1 * 
 
 "Yes, I know. I was not at home. I went to the 
 forge for a few minutes, and hare just this moment got your 
 message. Still, I perceive that I am in time, unless it may 
 he tM* my absence has caused you some annoyance." 
 
 "And who are you, sir, 7 * inquired Mrs. L'Estrange, 
 snireying him superciliously from head to foot, while she 
 drew herself up to her full height, and assumed all the 
 dignity of appearance and manner of which she was ca- 
 pable" who are you that come here to interrupt a prrvate 
 conversation between a mother and her daughter unbid- 
 den, too, by the mistress of the house ?" 
 
 "I am" the superintendent of these works, replied 
 Benham, "and I am here at the request of this lady," tak- 
 ing the hand that Alana held out to him, - the mistress of 
 this house and of all that pertains to it" 
 
 "I tbink not As the widow of Mr. Francis Honey- 
 wood, the late owner of this property, and as that young 
 woman's mother, my rights should go for something. " 
 
 "His widow!" 
 
 'Yes, his widow. Is there anything strange in the 
 fact that, being dead, he should hare left a widow ? " 
 
 "And may I ask where you have been all these 
 years?- 
 
 " Ton may ask what you please. But I shall certainly 
 answer no questions put in a hostile spirit. I was about to 
 convince this young lady, whom I will not jet designate 
 by the name of daughter, since she declines to regard me m 
 her mother I was about to exhibit to her the evidence 
 that her mother is a married woman, and then to show her 
 that I am her mother. Perhaps you win not venture to pre- 
 vent my so doing." 
 
 "Yes, I certainly shalL I am here, in fact, for that 
 very purpose. She is fatigued, and requires rest
 
 238 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 she evidently does not believe that you are her mother, 
 nor," he added, looking her fixedly in the face, "do I." 
 
 "I am sure she is not my mother," said Alana. "I 
 can not tell you why I think so, but I am as certain of it 
 as I am of anything else in the world. For a moment I 
 thought she was speaking the truth, but now I know that 
 she is an impostor." 
 
 "Some secret light, I suppose," said Mrs. L'Estrange, 
 sneeringly, " that illumines Miss Honeywood's mind, and 
 enables her to perceive what she wishes to perceive. After 
 all her pretended efforts to find her mother, she rejects and 
 insults that mother when she comes, heart-broken, into her 
 daughter's presence. What am I to do ? I am ready to 
 exhibit my proofs, and yet you refuse to allow me to do so. 
 Is that just ? Is it kind to an old woman, who may be 
 that girl's mother, even though you both believe, or affect 
 to believe, that she is not ?" 
 
 "I think I had better see the papers," said Alana. " I 
 would rather examine them to-night than defer the duty 
 to another time. I should feel easier if I saw them now, 
 although I do not feel that they would shake my convic- 
 tion that she is not my mother." 
 
 "Very well," said Beuham ; "perhaps it would be 
 better to end the matter at once. Produce your evidence, 
 madam, if you please," turning to Mrs. L'Estrange, who 
 still had her papers in her hand. " Will you sit here at 
 this table ? You will find it more convenient." 
 
 "Thanks. You are very kind. It will be more con- 
 venient for us all." 
 
 She sat down in the chair that Benham drew up to the 
 table for her, while he and Alana sat opposite. 
 
 While she was getting her papers in order he took the 
 opportunity of studying her face more closely than he had 
 yet done, and he was, in consequence, convinced beyond a 
 doubt that she was the woman that had been with the man
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 239 
 
 on Peter's Mountain, and that had succeeded in making 
 her escape. How was it possible, then, that she should be 
 Alana's mother ? He called to mind all that he had heard 
 the two say relative to the abduction and the confinement 
 in the house on Berry's Mountain, and the firing of his 
 own house in order that attention might be diverted from 
 the prime object the securing of Alana's person. If this 
 woman was the widow of Francis Honeywood, it was incon- 
 ceivable that she should consort with criminals like John- 
 son and Todd, even though the latter was her brother, and 
 enter into a conspiracy with them to abduct her own 
 daughter for the purpose of extorting money. Xo, the 
 thing was out of the question. The woman was certainly 
 an impostor. 
 
 And yet, as he looked at her, he could not but admit 
 that she was wonderfully like Alana, A coarse likeness, 
 but nevertheless a startling one. To what was the fact 
 due ? Was it possible that the features of a person could 
 so exactly resemble those of another without there being 
 some blood relationship ? He tried to call to mind all the 
 resemblances between unrelated people that had ever come 
 under his observation, but there was not one in which the 
 similitude of features was so marked as in this instance, 
 And yet there was a difference of thirty years or more in 
 their age*. 
 
 One circumstance astonished him, and that was the fact 
 that she did not appear to recognize him as the man who 
 on the previous day had surprised her with Johnson hatch- 
 ing their conspiracy to commit arson and abduction. She 
 must have seen his face as she looked up and saw her com- 
 panion dangling in the air and being lifted up to the top 
 of the rock by Benham's strong arm. He had seen her 
 face then, and was conscious of catching her eye, though 
 she had at once dropped her veil and hurried frightened 
 from the spot Besides, she had probably visited Johnson 
 11
 
 240 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 in prison as she had visited Todd, and he must certainly 
 have told her of the way in which he had been treated, and 
 mentioned the name of his captor. But for all this she 
 seemed to be absolutely unaware of the fact that she had 
 seen him before or that he had seen her. 
 
 "If you are ready now," she said, interrupting his 
 meditations, "I will begin with the exposition of the 
 evidence upon which I rest my claim. 
 
 " In the first place, it gives me great pleasure to be the 
 means of removing one serious blot from that young lady's 
 escutcheon. However bad a woman her mother may have 
 been and I call you both to witness that I have in no way 
 endeavored to extenuate her wickedness she was legally 
 married to Francis Honeywood. Here" she continued, 
 taking one of the papers from the table "is the marriage 
 certificate, which shows that the marriage took place on 
 the llth of March, 1854, nearly a year before you were 
 born. To be sure," smiling as she spcke, "he was only 
 a boy, and I was a woman of mature age, but neither fact 
 invalidates the marriage ; neither does the one that he had 
 taken too much champagne just before the ceremony to 
 fully comprehend what he was doing, or to recollect it 
 afterward. The clergyman and witnesses, however, saw 
 nothing amiss about him." 
 
 She handed the paper to Benham, and he and Alana 
 read it carefully through from beginning to end. It was 
 to the effect that, on the llth day of March, 1854, in the 
 city of Philadelphia, Francis Honeywood and Sarah Mul- 
 lin, being of lawful age, were duly united in the holy 
 bonds of matrimony by the Rev. Melanchthon Jenkins, a 
 minister of the gospel, authorized by law to perform the 
 marriage ceremony. It was witnessed by Jonathan Smart 
 and Lewis Eaton. 
 
 "I know both those gentlemen," said Benham. "Mr. 
 Smart is general manager of the Truesdell and Stone
 
 OS THE SCSQOHAXSJL 
 
 Bailnnd, and Mr. Ertozi is Hie: 
 of the Gnrtnnffl coalmines. They can both be easily 
 comminucaied *ilh in a day or two. I am 
 with toe handwriting of either of them, bnfttisc 
 
 e." 
 Mrs. LTSsaamge.. istida 
 
 "Yeas, 1 ' ai 
 and I am Toy gntefoL Bat my 
 
 "rftaat "* "^T** VTtflfr ontfl ^ 
 
 " Yea, for he n&ntfed the wfeofc matto- as a trick, and 
 refused always to bdiere thai a mamage had taken place. 
 I ant hones* enough now, 3 * continwd MJC& L*E*nnge, 
 dropping her eines as though in 5same T "to admit that I 
 
 I was mneh older than he. I and the 
 
 to that certificate 
 into a plot to make your lather drank, and then, whife he 
 was in that condition, I was to many him. It was began 
 as a joke, bat it ended in eras*. They afl bonded with 
 
 drank a good deal of wine. Then one of the 
 
 Mr. Smart I think it was, went for tine dogyman, a 
 
 The next day and ewer afterward yoor father re- 
 to admit the lahoity of the ma*, and era de- 
 that the whole story was fake, and that no ceamauy 
 
 o lomehen 
 
 with my brother, the XUK who know in jafl in Dams-
 
 24:2 OX THE SUSQUEHANKA. 
 
 burg. Mr. Honeywood would not even see me, and again 
 denied that there had been a marriage. He appears to 
 have died either in the same belief, or in the same spirit of 
 obstinacy." 
 
 Certainly, so far as Benham could determine, the ap- 
 pearances were in favor of the woman's truthfulness. The 
 certificate bore the names of persons he knew, and who 
 could be appealed to within the next day or two. It was, 
 he thought, scarcely probable that a false certificate could 
 have been concocted when the fraud could be so readily 
 detected. And the woman's frankness in telling of her 
 own misdeeds in connection with the marriage, was calcu- 
 lated to prepossess him in her favor. He was astonished, 
 too, -at the admirable way in which she expressed herself, 
 and which was clearly that of an educated person. He had 
 understood, perhaps, only by inference, that the Mullins 
 were all coarse and ignorant people. Todd evidently was 
 of this stamp, but this woman, his sister, spoke in excel- 
 lent English, and with a quiet reserve of manner under 
 what, to her, if she was not an impostor, must have been 
 trying circumstances. Still, while admitting the genuine- 
 ness of the certificate, he was not prepared to believe that 
 the holder of it was the woman that had married Francis 
 Houeywood, and was consequently Alana's mother. The 
 facts within his knowledge that militated against her iden- 
 tity were too strong to be overcome without much more 
 direct evidence than any she had yet offered, which, in 
 reality, did not extend beyond the facts that the certificate 
 was in her possession, and her own unsupported declara- 
 tion that she was the woman that had contracted the mar- 
 riage. 
 
 Resolving that not a day should elapse before he com- 
 municated with Messrs. Smart and Eaton, he handed back 
 the certificate. 
 
 During all this time Alana had of course been intensely
 
 OST THE SCSQCEHJLSyjL 243 
 
 The belief that Benham expressed in regard to 
 of the marriage certificate, and her own 
 conviction of its validity, removed from hear mind one of 
 its greatest loads. At an j rate, she was legal! j the daugh- 
 ter of her father, entitled to bear his name, and to inherit 
 his estate era without the formality of a wflL She was 
 not a bastard, whatever else she might he. The one per- 
 sonal stain was therefore removed. 
 
 And she was disposed to go farther than Benham, and 
 to admit that the woman was her mother. She could not 
 conceive how otherwise she should present so plausible a 
 case and bear herself with such entire confidence of die 
 success of her claim. She had detailed the circumstances 
 of die marriage with such circumstantiality, and with such 
 an air of truth, without attempting to gloss over or to ex- 
 cuse her own participation in the victimization of the 
 young student, that Alana could not see how she could be 
 lying: She was calm, self-possessed, confident, not at- 
 tempting to enforce belief in her statements, but simply 
 allowing them to make their own way to the sense of jus- 
 tice and truth of her judges. 
 
 As a natural consequence of this phase of mind, she 
 began to reproach herself for the hard manner in which 
 she had acted, and for the cruel, if truthful, words she had 
 nsed, "If she is my mother," she thought, "nothing 
 can justify my brutal conduct I must have been mad to 
 have acted as I did." 
 
 She would have given utterance to her thoughts, but 
 for the fact that Benham, by a look, warned her to be 
 
 Mrs. I/Estrange took the paper that Benham returned 
 to her, and, laying it on the table, proceeded to unfold the 
 other documents in her possession. These she arranged in 
 chronological order, and finally, taking up the first one of 
 
 tH~ 5-rTlv?. 5-v rC-J-Hlrl HOT
 
 24 ON THE 8USQUEHANNA. 
 
 " I arrived here with my brother on the 18th of Au- 
 gust, 1866, remaining at the tavern while he came to this 
 house to see my husband, and to indues him, if possible, 
 to do me the justice of acknowledging the marriage and of 
 making provision for my support. Of course I knew that 
 I could enforce my claims by law, but I was indisposed for 
 several reasons, some of them based upon facts not at all 
 creditable to me, to appeal to the courts. I found, how- 
 ever, that he was still obdurate. He would not admit that 
 a marriage had taken place. Then, in order to intimidate 
 him, my brother threatened him with exposure and the 
 law. At this he became very angry, so my brother in- 
 formed me, and forcibly ejected him from the house. 
 However, he subsequently wrote to me, proposing a com- 
 promise. By the terms of this arrangement he was to pay 
 me three thousand dollars a year, and I was not to annoy 
 him in any manner. He kept to the agreement, as did I 
 also." 
 
 "My father declared on his death-bed," said Alana, 
 "that he had before and after my birth offered to marry 
 my mother, but that she had persistently refused to be his 
 wife." 
 
 "Yes, he did several times. But I refused, because I 
 was already married ; and, besides, I did not at that period of 
 my life desire to be regarded as his wife." And again she 
 hung her head as if ashamed to look Alana in the face. 
 
 Benham gazed at the woman in surprise, not unmixed 
 with admiration of her surpassing shrewdness in the new 
 r6le of honesty upon which she had entered. Apparently 
 she was willing to reveal all the acts, no matter how sinful 
 or criminal or dishonorable, of her past life. Such frank- 
 ness he had never met before in a depraved character such 
 as he believed her to be. No more effective method of dis- 
 arming suspicion and bringing honest opponents over to 
 her side could have been devised, and she had used it with
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHASXA. 245 
 
 a skill that could scarcely be surpassed. A more consum- 
 mate actress he had never come across, although he had, 
 like most men of his age, met with many designing 
 women. That she was acting, that she was a false wretch 
 who ought to be in the cell of a prison if she had justice 
 done her, he was more and more convinced, every moment, 
 in spite of the apparent ingenuousness that characterized 
 every word she spoke. He saw, too, how easily Alana would 
 have fallen a prey to the woman's wiles had she been left 
 alone, as Mrs. L'Estrange had evidently expected would 
 have been the case. However, his time had not yet 
 come. 
 
 "As you perceive," resumed Mrs, L'Estrange, seeing 
 that she had made a decided impression upon her listeners, 
 though unaware of the character of that produced upon 
 Benham " as you perceive, I am familiar with the facts 
 connected with my unhappy relation with Mr. Honeywood, 
 and that I have no disposition to deny them, or to dimin- 
 ish their odiousness. I admit at once, and for all, that I 
 was a wicked woman, but for all that I am Francis Honey- 
 wood's widow, and am entitled to all the rights pertaining 
 to that relation. 
 
 " These letters, of which this is the first, are from Mr. 
 Honeywood to me. They are addressed to me as Miss 
 Sarah Mullin. at Montreal, the city in which I had deter- 
 mined to reside, though for a good reason I called myself 
 Sarah Mobley, and was known by that name throughout 
 the city." . 
 
 "Why," inquired Benham, quickly, "did you change 
 your name ? " 
 
 "Out of regard for my mother, who was a respectable 
 woman. The only one of the family, so far as I know ; 
 for my occupation was a shameful one." Actually, as she 
 spoke these words, a blush suffused her cheeks. "Can this 
 woman,"' thought Benham, "bring the blood to her face
 
 26 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 at will ? " Apparently, she colored just as some emotional 
 actresses can bring tears from their eyes. 
 
 " You can read this letter, and all the others, if you 
 choose," she continued, handing it to Benham. "It's one 
 of a number that came quarterly from the time that we 
 made the arrangement, until Mr. Honeywood's death. 
 Each one contained a check for seven hundred and fifty 
 dollars." 
 
 Benham read the letter. It was just as she had said. 
 He looked over the others, as Alana had done, and found 
 them to be almost exact copies of the first. 
 
 "Now," she said, folding up the letters and tying them 
 into a package, '-'there is one thing more. Doubtless you 
 have in your possession, Miss Honeywood, specimens of 
 my harrdwriting, the checks, for instance, with my indorse- 
 ments, or my letters transmitting them. They must have 
 been found among your father's papers at his death. Take 
 any one of the letters in question and read it to me, with- 
 out letting me see a word of it, and I will make you an 
 exact copy. That will be an additional piece of evidence 
 of the honesty of my claim." 
 
 " There are no checks, and no letters of the kind, to be 
 found," answered Alana. "Not even the check-book can 
 be discovered. Neither is there anything to show where 
 my mother lived, or upon whom the checks were drawn. 
 I knew nothing on the subject till I talked with the man 
 in the jail this morning." 
 
 "Ah, you talked with him ! He is your Uncle Alexan- 
 der. Did he tell you anything different from what I have 
 told you ? " 
 
 " He told me some things that you have not mentioned. 
 And he was about to tell me of something that he said would 
 please me, the marriage of my father, I suppose, when " 
 
 "When he was charged with the murder of his wife. 
 Of course you know that it was an accident. But," not
 
 247 
 
 of jov dum to be Mr. 
 I hre fey tilinai to *- Mj 
 ike object of Mia Hbv^mod, B ID gelt at he 
 tratk. If jf are kcr MlftB^jOT vffl of conae lie re- 
 1 txofad viik tfe eorafentian to which 
 If JOT are a inpas&o^ it B proprr Unit 
 
 ^ _- _, ij_ 
 
 a igfc
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "You are now Mrs. L'Estrange, I believe ?" said Ben- 
 ham interrogatively. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Is that an assumed name ?" 
 
 " No. I was married to a French Canadian two years 
 ago." 
 
 " Is your husband living ? " 
 
 " He died a week after our marriage. He was a hunter, 
 in the employ of the Hudson Bay Company, and was 
 drowned in the St. Lawrence while attempting to cross 
 the river on the ice. Here," taking a newspaper from her 
 pocket, "is an account of the accident. It is a weekly 
 newspaper, and the announcement of my marriage, and his 
 death, are in adjoining columns." 
 
 Benham glanced at the newspaper that she handed him. 
 She had spoken the truth. 
 
 "Why did you make no demand for your quarterly 
 allowance after Mr. Honeywood's death ? " 
 
 " Because I was in prison and could not. I was com- 
 mitted at about the time he died, and just before the pay- 
 ment was due. I did not know of his death till my release. 
 I had inquiries made of the bankers, but the answer was 
 that there were no funds. The last payment was made in 
 United States notes, and sent to me by express." 
 
 " That is exactly as the man in the jail told it to me," 
 said Alana to Benham. 
 
 " Doubtless it is correct," he answered. " Now," again
 
 OX THE SUSQCEHAXXA. ^ 
 
 addressing Mrs. L~E=trange, "for what were yon impris- 
 avd?" 
 
 "Is it necessary to go into that matter? 9 she in- 
 quired, with a somewhat weaiy air. "And before mr own 
 danghter, too ? You might spare me farther humiliation 
 
 'Thus far you hare not spared yourself, I must insist 
 
 'For what reason ? What good can jon gain by the 
 
 "That I do not yet know. It may be of importance in 
 the determination of your character." 
 
 "Wefl,haTeita3yonwish! I was convicted of fraud, 
 and of obtaining money under fake pretenses." 
 
 "You hare been in prison many times ? B 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 " And are now being sought for by the police ?" 
 
 "Ifo." 
 
 Here Alana whispered something to Benham. 
 
 " Todd, whom yon admit to be your brother, says that 
 detectiTes from FhOadelphia are now in search of you." 
 
 "If Alexander Todd aid that," she exclaimed, in a 
 louder tone of roice than she had yet employed, "he 
 bed!- 1 
 
 "Very wefl; we wffl not further discuss the matter. 
 It win be rery easfly settled by a telegram to the Philadel- 
 phia chief of police to-morrow 1 morning. 7 ' 
 
 A deadly pallor oTerspread her countenance at these 
 noticed it, but, without referring to the 
 went on with MB examination. 
 'Did JOB erer aee me before to-night ? 
 
 But I hare seen jon." 
 
 That may be. I am not expected to aee afl the peo-
 
 250 ON IDE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " True, but you have seen me before." 
 " Oh, well, if I haye, I didn't notice you." 
 "I saw you on Peter's Mountain yesterday afternoon ?" 
 interrogatively. 
 
 Now, Mrs. L'Estrange knew of course what the pre- 
 vious questions were leading to, and she had therefore 
 ample opportunity for reflection as to what she should 
 answer when the inevitable came. She was fully conscious 
 of the fact that, if she admitted that she was the woman 
 Beuham had seen at Washington's Throne, on Peter's 
 Mountain, in conference with Johnson, and engaged in a 
 conspiracy to burn Benham's house and to abduct Miss 
 Honeywood for the purpose of extorting money from her, 
 it would be a fatal blow to her pretensions. She knew, 
 also, that it would be almost impossible to prove that 
 she was the woman. Johnson, of course, would swear 
 point-blank that she had never, to his knowledge, been on 
 the mountain ; the failure of the searchers sent out by 
 Benham, and of the Harrisburg police to obtain even so 
 much as a trace of the woman, was in her favor. Her 
 tracks, she believed, were so fully covered up that the 
 identification of the Peter's Mountain woman with herself 
 would be a matter of great difficulty, if not an impossi- 
 bility. There would be no one to testify against her but 
 Benham, and Johnson would positively contradict him by 
 swearing that not only was she not on Peter's Mountain, 
 but that no woman was with him. 
 
 Besides, in all her controversies with policemen, judges, 
 juries, and prosecuting attorneys, she had derived more 
 benefit from boldness even than from apparent frankness. 
 Long experience in devious paths had made her an expert 
 at evasion, and she knew just when to confess and when to 
 deny, and, denying, to stick to her assertions with an 
 obstinacy that showed no variation or relaxation. When, 
 therefore, Benham's question came, there was no hesitation.
 
 OS THE SGBQEEHA3TSA. -.; 1 
 
 "I was not on Peter's Mountain 
 S said, calmly, as though entirely 
 of the question and answei 
 never on Pete*. Mountain in my fife" 
 
 effrontery of the woman; but before he could return to 
 Mr. Wade was ushered into the room, and, in 
 , tile order of proceeding was for the moment in- 
 terrupted. In a few words Benham explained the situa- 
 tion, and then the examination was renewed. 
 
 "You deny eiplicitly that you were on Peters Mount- 
 ain yesterday afternoon in company with a man ?*" 
 
 "Most explicitly, 1 ' answered the woman, closing her 
 lips tightly, and laving her folded hands on the table be- 
 
 J0PB ACT* 
 
 *Ict me state fully what I know, and then perhaps w 
 diaH understand each other better. 
 
 "Yesterday afternoon I went up to near the summit of 
 Peter's Mountain, to a place called Washington's Throne, 
 a large rock overlooking the valley and the rirer. I ap- 
 proached from the north, and when I anived at the top I 
 I looked over the edge and saw below me a 
 
 the purport of which was that they were naem- 
 
 object ft was to abduct IGn Hmejwood, to carry her to a 
 house on Berry 9 s Mountain, and then, when die was in 
 their power, force her to agree to certain outrageous 
 propositions tending to the advantage of the conspirators. 
 The man was captured by me, and is now in jafl. The 
 
 face distinctly, and there is no doubt that I am cor- 
 rect" 
 
 WU10Befe^maiieakiii & Mi*L'Hrfia^fKa^ 
 rf the create* astonkhinent. She
 
 252 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 heard him through to the end, and, when he had finished, 
 she raised her hands and eyes as if appealing to Heaven, 
 and ejaculated : 
 
 "My God ! that I should be charged with a conspiracy 
 to abduct my own daughter ! The man is either insane 
 or or drunk." 
 
 "Are you acquainted with Johnson, now in the jail at 
 Harrisburg ? " inquired Benham, quietly, without noticing 
 the implied charge made by the woman. 
 
 Now, it was Mrs. L'Estrange's policy, and, in fact, her 
 uniform system of procedure, in such cases as that in 
 which she was now concerned, to admit all charges that 
 could be readily proved, no matter how damaging they 
 might be to her interests. She knew, of course, that the 
 fact of her acquaintance with Johnson, and her visit to 
 him in the 'jail, could be readily established. She therefore 
 promptly answered : 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " He is a friend of yours, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Johnson is a friend of mine. He is a very 
 superior man, and has been badly treated." 
 
 " That remains to be seen. Being a friend of yours, he 
 would not be likely to manufacture a falsehood in regard 
 to you, especially one that might be the means of getting 
 you into trouble. Last night, in his examination before 
 the justice of the peace, he declared that he had gone with 
 a friend, Mrs. L'Estrange, to Peter's Mountain, in order to 
 let her enjoy the fine landscape." 
 
 While Benham was speaking, the woman's face again 
 became pallid, and she looked as though she were about to 
 faint. Large drops of perspiration stood out on her fore- 
 head, and her voice, which had all along been clear and 
 ringing, now became husky and faint. 
 
 "It is impossible!" she muttered. "He could not 
 have made such a statement."
 
 OS THE STSQUEHASXA. ;3 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Wade, "he did, for I haTe read the 
 record in Squire McEboy's office.' 
 
 " I do not know whv he should make such an assertion. 
 ttisnoiietheles3false> 
 
 As I came down the mountain-side, ~ resumed Ben- 
 ham, pitilessly, although he perceived that the game was 
 already over, "I saw a piece of a blue veil, such as that 
 you now wear, that had been torn off by an overhanging 
 branch. I secured it, and bare it now in my pocket. Will 
 e to see if yours is torn, and if the piece cor- 
 with the lost portion, if there is any ? " 
 
 She could not refuse. To do so would only make mat. 
 ters worse. She did not know that her veil was torn, and 
 there was, therefore, a chance that the fragment was not 
 hers, and then it would be sure evidence in her favor. She 
 llMiifnii removed her veil and laid it on the table. Benbam 
 took the piece from his pocket, and, spreading out the veil, 
 found that the fragment exactly fitted a torn place at one 
 flflTFfr He then handed the veil back to its owner and 
 ill n mill the piece to his pocket. 
 
 Mrs. L'Estrange was a picture for the physiognomist. 
 At first, as Benham began to speak of the Tef she put on 
 a faint anile, that was nothing more than the contraction 
 of certain facial muscles, such as might be produced by the 
 galvanic current without the element of mirth or pleasure 
 into it Then, as she saw that the piece in Ben- 
 MEBBOB. eiaclli corresponded with the rent in her 
 
 Tefl, the sardonic smile disappeared, and a look of stolid 
 defiance took its place. She saw thai she had been con- 
 victed of a series of falsehoods, and that therefore increased 
 doubt was thrown upon her statement that she was the 
 widow of Francis Honejwood, but she did not for all that 
 intend to renounce her pretensions. She had, bowerer, 
 tried one plan and it had not succeeded. Something 
 might stffl be effected by threats and intimidation, although
 
 254 ON THE SUSQUEIIANNA. 
 
 she knew that, if these were resisted, her position was such 
 as to absolutely preclude the possibility of her resorting to 
 legal measures. Before, however, she could say a word, 
 Mr. Wade, who had listened with the utmost attention to 
 the examination, and had been observing her closely, said : 
 
 " Probably no additional evidence touching Mrs. L'Es- 
 trange's association with Johnson yesterday afternoon is 
 necessary, but I may say that I have ascertained that she, 
 and a man answering to Johnson's description, and who in 
 hiring the vehicle gave her name and his, left Harrisburg 
 yesterday afternoon in a buggy that they hired at Sanger's 
 livery-stable, and that late in the evening it was returned 
 by the lady without her companion being with her." 
 
 "All this amounts to nothing," said the woman, rising 
 from her chair and preparing to depart. " You are not 
 disposed to receive me as Mr. Honeywood's widow. Of 
 course, then, I shall be obliged to obtain my rights by an 
 appeal to the law. I shall at once take legal advice, and 
 you will hear from me very soon through my counsel. I 
 hoped to save trouble and ill-feeling, but in this I have 
 been disappointed. In the mean time I shall remain in Har- 
 risburg." She bowed formally to Alana and the gentle- 
 men, and was preparing to leave the room. 
 
 "Stop, please," said Mr. Wade; "you can not be 
 allowed to go. I took the trouble while in Harrisburg to 
 inquire into your antecedents to a somewhat greater extent 
 than you have chosen to reveal them. I telegraphed this 
 morning to Philadelphia for an officer who, I am disposed 
 to think, knows something about you. He is in the hall, 
 waiting the signal from me to enter, and see if you are the 
 woman you are suspected to be. Should my suspicions be 
 con6rmed, he has a warrant for your arrest that he ob- 
 tained this afternoon. I do not wish to be harsh with you. 
 If there is anything you would like to say you can speak." 
 
 While Mr. Wade was making these remarks the woman
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. i:,5 
 
 ga?ped for breath, and clasped the back of a chair appar- 
 ently to save herself from falling. Alana, seeing her dis- 
 tress, went to her, and would hare supported her to the 
 sofa ; but, rousing herself, Mis. I/Estrange kept her off with 
 a motion of her hand, while she turned to Mr. Wade even 
 jet with a remnant of her defiant manner. 
 
 '' You may cause me s great deal of annoyance," she 
 said. " I hare admitted that my life has been an evil one, 
 and I do not deny that I am at this moment justly liable to 
 
 " You did deny it, just now," said Benham. 
 
 "The matter, however, which it concerns you all to 
 investigate is not, it appears to me, my misdeed?, but 
 whether or not I am the widow of Francis Honeywood. I 
 hare presented evidence to-night that ought to be sufficient 
 to satisfy any reasonable minds that I am the woman I 
 claim to be. Admitting that I have only partially suc- 
 ceeded, admitting flat I have barely raised the slightest 
 presumption in your minds that I am that girl's mother, is 
 it prudent, is it kind, not to me, but to her, to injure her 
 through me by iririhi^ scandals about the woman who may 
 be her mother ? I appeal to yon, as a man of experience 
 and a lawyer, to say if I have not at 1< nl iBlMiili1 a possi- 
 bility in my favor." She sat down as she finished speak- 
 ing, and looked with something of an imploring expression 
 on her face at Mr. Wade. 
 
 "You are certainly mistaken, answered thai gentle- 
 man, "in supposing that you have in the slightest degree 
 convinced us that yon are Mr. Honeywood's widow. We 
 are prepared to admit that yon have established certain 
 points relative to this young* lady's mother, but you have 
 failed altogether to make us believe that you' are her 
 mother. Who you are, I do not know I have not even a 
 suspicion ; bnt I have no doubt that we shall unravel the 
 mystery, and exhibit you and your confederates in yoor
 
 256 OX THE SDSQUEHANNA. 
 
 true colors. As one means of effecting this object I am 
 going to have a detective officer take a look at you." He 
 went to the door as he spoke these last words, and opened 
 it. "Come in, Mr. Josephs," he continued. 
 
 At the name, Mrs. L'Estrange covered her face with her 
 hands, while Alana, feeling that this was a critical mo- 
 ment in her existence, watched the proceedings with pale 
 face and bated breath. 
 
 Entering the room, Mr. Josephs made a bow, and then 
 his eyes roamed round the apartment for a moment, till 
 they rested upon the cowering woman who was trembling 
 with apprehension, and who still kept her face covered. 
 Walking to where she sat, he looked at her fixedly for a 
 moment, and then gently laid his hand on her shoulder, 
 while he gave a significant glance at Mr. Wade. 
 
 " Sarah Lammy," he said, very quietly, " I have a war- 
 rant for your arrest on the charge of robbery. Get ready 
 to go with me. There is a train for Philadelphia at 12.20." 
 
 "You are mistaken," she exclaimed, though with a 
 shaky voice, while she dropped her hands from her face 
 ad looked squarely at the officer. " My name is L'Es- 
 trange, and I am not guilty of any robbery for which I 
 have not already been punished." 
 
 " Oh, come, now ! " said Mr. Josephs, losing his hith- 
 erto quiet and respectful tone, " don't try that game with 
 me. You're Sarah Lammy, alias ' Confidence Sal,' and 
 you are the principal in the big diamond robbery at Smith, 
 Lukens & Werton's in Philadelphia, a little over a month 
 ago. Why, Lord bless you ! you and I are old friends. 
 I'll treat you kindly, as you know. I'll telegraph for a 
 section of a sleeping-car for you, and you'll wake up in 
 Philadelphia none the worse for your journey." 
 
 " Can't you stay here in the village till morning ? I'm 
 very tired. Yes, worse than tired ; I'm ill. There's a tav- 
 ern near here at which I can get a room."
 
 OS THE SCSQUEHAXS A. 257 
 
 Fm afraid to fans* JOB, Sarah upon my fife I am ! 
 Tom got away from me once before just by abusing my 
 ^IIMIHI^ WbDe I sat all night and watched the door of 
 JOB- room, jam got out of the window. Xo, you'll hate to 
 go to PhiiaiilaMi tq-Mght* 
 
 M Ghm%jMiktkBramj? v mteipaeedA]ana. "She looks 
 faint and weary. Sorely she can not escape from you ! 
 
 "AH of which goal to show, miss, fiat you don't know 
 2 Confidence Sal!' Why, Lorf hks yon, she aart tired a 
 Mt! She can makehenelf look as if die was just fagged oma 
 and read j to drop into the fin* grave that dhe m^ht oome 
 acro^v when aO the time she s as fred as a four- roar-id coll. 
 She aint done an j hard work to-da j ; she never did anr 
 in her life ; and, as to being made oek bj what's happened 
 to her here to-ni^ht, she aaat the kind to take on about 
 saca a thing. She'd tefl jam. jast as straightforward a 
 story to-morrow, and with jast as man j particular?, all fit- 
 ting into one another like a fin I ! piece of cabinet- 
 woHr, and Derer feel anymore tired than if she hadjos* 
 wakrf pot of a nine-boor napu She's the sharped cae 
 weNe got-ain't yon, Sal * 
 
 Sot deigning to replj, the woman rose, and without a 
 word prepared to follow the detectiTe from the room. 
 
 "I wont port the bracelets on TOO, Sarah, 7 * aid the 
 c I gun I can manage without them, and it always 
 
 of me, 9 he eontinmed, in a lower Toke, but 
 Mmgh f or an in the room to hear, "fornot let- 
 ting yoa stay at the
 
 258 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "And yet I am sorry for her," said Alana, in a low 
 tone. "I know that she is not my mother, but at one 
 time my feelings got the better of my judgment, and I was 
 very near yielding my belief in spite of the strong light 
 that in the beginning shone upon her in some incompre- 
 hensible way, and revealed to me that she was an impostor. 
 I seemed then to see her in all her inborn depravity and to 
 perceive the falsity of her claim. But, for all that, I think 
 I should have accepted her statements had I been alone." 
 
 "Yes," rejoined Mr. Wade, "an emotion has more in- 
 fluence with a woman than a reason, and I, for one, am 
 glad that it is so. Women who are in all things gov- 
 erned by their intellects are rather dreary creatures, to my 
 mind." 
 
 " But who can she be ? " inquired Alana. " She has in 
 her possession papers that must at one time at least have be- 
 longed to my mother ; and then her knowledge of circum- 
 stances that I know to be true, and her remarkable like- 
 ness to me, are facts that it is difficult for us to explain." 
 
 "I shall make it my business to unravel the mystery," 
 said Benham. " I shall start for Montreal to-morrow. I 
 shall telegraph this night to Messrs. Smart and Eaton, and 
 I hope to follow up the clews I shall receive till the whole 
 affair is made as plain as day. I shall go to the jail to- 
 morrow and see what can be got out of our two prisoners." 
 
 While he was speaking, Mr. Wade sat stroking his mus- 
 tache, and looking from one to the other of his two com- 
 panions in a knowing way, as though he had succeeded in 
 solving a question that had been causing him some distiirb- 
 ance. When Benham had finished his remarks the old 
 gentleman threw himself back in his chair, while a pleasant 
 smile passed over his countenance. 
 
 " I think I comprehend how matters stand," he said, in 
 a reflective sort of a way, and without addressing any one 
 in particular. "But I think, Alana, that you ought to
 
 OX THE SUSQrEHAXXJL m 
 
 have taken me into TOOT confidence. Surely I am an old 
 enough friend for that!" 
 
 "Yes!" she exclaimed, ''Ton are my second father." 
 She came round to where he sat and, patting her arms 
 around his neck, kissed his forehead. " I should hare told 
 you all very soon, but there has not been time. It only 
 happened this morning, and matters are still unsettled be- 
 tween us." 
 
 "How unsettled? I don't understand." 
 
 "John is an honorable man, and sprung from an hon- 
 orable lineage, while I 
 
 " Tat, tut, tut !" interrupted Mr. Wade, " What non- 
 aense ! What difference does it make to him whether his 
 lineage is honorabls or not, or whether yours is base or 
 not ? Would he be any worse a man if his grandfather 
 had stolen a sheep ? Would yon, my dear, be any better if 
 your mother had been a paragon of all the virtues ? I ad- 
 mit that the world in its narrow-mindedness would be 
 TCTJ apt for a while to put on an air of Tirtuous indigna- 
 tion, but the moment it discovered that yon did not care 
 for its opinion, and, above alL that you were successful, it 
 would turn round and worship you all of it, at least, 
 except the envious. They would never forgive you. If 
 John Benham loves you, as I suppose he does and he's a 
 ttjggu fool than I take him to be if he doesn't you have 
 no right to make him unhappy, provided yon love him." 5 
 
 Alana had gone back to her place at the table, and for a 
 moment, after Mr. Wade had ceased speaking, she remained 
 silent, apparently thinking profoundly of some engrossing 
 subject Then she rose, and, going to where Benham sat, 
 she laid her hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "John," she said, "I wfll be your wife if you win take 
 -:." 
 
 "God bless you, dear!" he said, with emotion. "I 
 felt sure I should get you some day ; but for all that I
 
 260 ON THE SUSQOEHASTNA. 
 
 shall not give up my efforts to solve the mystery connected 
 with that woman " 
 
 " Good-night, Alana ! " interrupted Mr. "Wade. " Good- 
 night, Benham. You are right ; stick to that. Fathom 
 the whole iniquitous scheme to its utmost depths." 
 
 He was gone, and the two lovers were again alone. 
 
 "You are going away," said Alana; "and from me," 
 laying her head on his breast as she spoke. 
 
 " Yes ; I shall go long before you are up." He placed 
 his hands on her head, and pressed it against his heart. 
 " There is much to be done, but with God's help I shall do 
 it, and so effectually, that you will never after have any- 
 thing to fear from those wretches." 
 
 " Do not go," she pleaded ; " stay with me. Let them 
 go their own way. They can not harm us." 
 
 He smiled, remembering how differently she had spoken 
 only a couple of hours previously. 
 
 "No, dear," he replied; "I shall have to go. This 
 specter must not have a chance of reappearing to trouble 
 you. I shall try to lay it forever, and then " 
 
 " Well, then," she said, looking up into his face, and 
 smiling happily "then I shall be your wife." 
 
 He bade her good-night, and going to his office, which 
 had a telegraphic connection, he sent dispatches to Messrs. 
 Smart and Eaton, hoping to get answers before his depart- 
 ure in the 8.30 train for Harrisburg, but requesting that 
 replies might be also sent to him at his hotel in that 
 city. He then paid a final visit to the forge, waked up his 
 assistant, and gave him instructions relative to his duties 
 during the ensuing ten days, and then went to bed, in the 
 hope of getting an hour or two of sleep before it was neces- 
 sary for him to be up. He did not sleep much, but at nine 
 o'clock he was in Harrisburg, on his way to the Dauphin 
 County Jail.
 
 CHAPTER XTX. 
 
 ARRIYIXG at the jail, Benham' s first object was to hare 
 an interview with the man who could be most benefited 
 by his influence. There was not much that he could do 
 for Todd, who would certainly hare to stand his trial for 
 the homicide of his wife, and who would surely receive a 
 sentence of several years in the penitentiary. But against 
 Johnson it would be difficult to prove any very serious of- 
 fense, though he had no doubt that some punishment would 
 be awarded on the evidence that he should give. If, how- 
 ever, Johnson should exhibit a disposition to expose the 
 conspiracy with which he was evidently connected, there 
 was reason to believe that the district attorney would be 
 disposed to deal gently with him. It was to him, therefore, 
 that Benham decided to address himself more particularly, 
 reserving Todd for any subsequent manipulation that might 
 pair to be necessary. 
 
 Mr. Schwanger was not in an especially good humor 
 when Benham sought an interview, for the purpose of get- 
 ting authority to visit the prisoner. A man confined for 
 some trifling offense had the night before committed sui- 
 cide, under circumstances that ought not to have existed 
 in a well-governed institution, such as was the Dauphin 
 County Jafl. As a consequence, Mr. Schwanger felt that 
 he would be blamed by his superiors, and perhaps even 
 deprived of his office. He was well acquainted with Ben- 
 ham, and ordinarily would have been delighted to oblige 
 bis visitor in the manner desired, but now he felt that it
 
 262 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 was necessary to be unusually strict ; so, notwithstanding 
 Benham's entreaties, he refused to allow him to see either 
 Todd or Johnson without an order from the district attor- 
 ney, or one of the county commissioners. It was in vain 
 that Benham pleaded urgency, and want of time to hunt 
 up any one of the officials named. Mr. Schwanger was 
 obdurate. All his Pennsylvania German blood was roused 
 into obstinacy by the catastrophe that had occurred, and 
 reason was for the time being dethroned. 
 
 "It's no use talking, Mr. Benham," he said ; "I know 
 very well that you won't kill either of the men, but who 
 knows that one or both of them might not commit suicide 
 the moment they saw you ? " 
 
 "How can they?" asked Benham, angrily. "I shall 
 not give either of them a knife, or a pistol, or a dose of poi- 
 son, and it is to be supposed that they are not allowed to 
 retain a stock of those articles in their possession." 
 
 " No, I'll take my oath they haven't anything that 
 would kill a mouse, much less a man." 
 
 " Then, how in the world are they going to commit sui- 
 cide?" 
 
 ''I'll tell you : they might do it just by holding their 
 breath, out of pure spite. I knew a man do that once. 
 Todd's a desperate fellow, and I wouldn't trust him a min- 
 ute ; and as to Johnson, he's the smartest fellow that was 
 ever in this jail. I shouldn't be surprised if ho could swal- 
 low his tongue." 
 
 " Swallow his tongue ! What are you talking about ? "' 
 
 " Exactly what I say, Mr. Benham. I'm not a fool. 
 When I say 'swallow his tongue,' that's exactly what I 
 mean, and if you don't understand how a man, when he 
 wants to kill himself, swallows his tongue, so that it chokes 
 him, it's your fault, not mine." 
 
 "Well, never mind. I don't care anything about it. 
 Where docs Mr. Dayton live ? "
 
 OS THE STSQUEHAXSA. 2-: 3 
 
 "He lives on Front Street, just above Market, bat he's 
 not in town. He went to Carlisle this morning, early, and 
 won't be back till the afternoon." 
 
 " Where will I find one of the county commissioners ? " 
 
 ' YouH find one of them in Hummelstown, one in 
 Highspire, and the other would he at his residence in Chest- 
 nut Street, if he hadn't gone to his brother's funeraL at 
 Heckeifs Gap, You didn't know that Christ. Momma 
 was dead, did you?" 
 
 "Ifo," 
 
 "Well, I thought you didn't, eke you wouldn't hare 
 asked where yon could find Conrad. Howerer, theyH be 
 here with the coroner at eleven o'clock, and then yon can 
 see aD three of them." 
 
 ''And, in the mean time, IH miss the train for Phila- 
 delphia at 1L30. I thought to find yon a reasonable 
 man ; on the contrary, a more blindly obstinate person 
 ilt has never been my misfortune to encounter. Here are 
 an three of the conspirators in custody, and yon doing your 
 
 "All three I" J-s 1 Mr. Schwanger, interrupting 
 Benham. "Who's the other ? 
 
 "Why, the woman, of course, who was here with them 
 yesterday afternoon. You allowed her, a notorious crimi- 
 nal, to see these men ; and you refuse me, whose only ob- 
 ject is the furtherance of the ends of justiceu" 
 
 "What! Mrs. LTBstrange?" 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. I/Estrange." 
 
 "Who arrested her, and what for ?" 
 
 "An officer from Philadelphia took her through here 
 early this morning from the Susquehanna Iron-Works, as 
 she happens to be the leading operator in the great dia- 
 mond robbery at Philadelphia.'' 
 
 " Sarah Lammj ?" 
 
 "Yes; otherwise < Confidence SaL"* 
 12
 
 264: ON THE SUSQUEIIANNA. 
 
 "And I had her here right in my very hands, and 
 missed the chance of making five hundred dollars by ar- 
 resting her ! And then one of my prisoners hanga himself, 
 and with a rope, too. If he had done it with his shirt cut 
 into strips, it wouldn't hare been so bad, for a jailer can't 
 be expected to know that a man means to kill himself, and 
 forthwith take away his shirt, and towel, and sheets, and 
 so on. But, of course, the commissioners will want to 
 know how he got a rope." 
 
 " How did he get it ? " 
 
 " How the devil should I know ? I suppose he brought 
 it in with him. I had him searched, but no rope was found 
 on him. Perhaps he had it sewed into the lining of his 
 coat. They're up to all sorts of tricks ; and now, to think 
 that I should have missed the reward for Sarah Lammy ! 
 That sticks in my craw ; and, if it gets out that she was 
 here and I didn't know her when there's a full description 
 of her hanging up in my office, I guess I'll never hear the 
 end of it." 
 
 <l No, I don't think you ever will, especially when it is 
 known that you allowed her to communicate freely with 
 her fellow-conspirators." 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Benham. I'll let you see 
 them. You might make it unpleasant for me before the 
 commissioners, but I'll trust to your generosity, and you 
 may go up. Which one do you want to see first ? " 
 
 "Thanks. I'll have a little conversation with Johnson 
 first. I may not care to see Todd at all." 
 
 "Very well ; follow me." 
 
 Mr. Schwanger led the way from the front building to 
 the long extension in which the cells for prisoners were 
 situated. Arriving at the one that had been assigned to 
 Johnson, and which was on the lower tier, he opened the 
 iron grating in the door and looked within. 
 
 "Johnson ! " he called.
 
 OX THE SCSQUESAX5TJL 
 
 in a louder voice. 
 Stifl there was no response. 
 
 "I suppose he's gone to sleep," he said, taking his key 
 it into the lock. "Its astonishing how 
 idoskep. Making np for lost time, I &- 
 He turned the key as he spoke, but something in the re- 
 sult appeared to disturb him, for he suddenly gave the 
 
 '-That's strange,* 7 be said, in a low voice. "I certainly 
 locked it last night, and now I find it unlocked." 
 
 Hastily entering the cell, he looked around the narrow 
 confines. There was no one in it but himself. "By Heav- 
 ens!* he exclaimed, excitedly, "he's gone, and I'm a 
 
 He sat down on the one chair that the cefl contained, 
 and, covering hi* face with his hands, burst into tears. 
 
 " Everything^ goaewrong/' he sobbed, "andnowthis 
 thing finishes me for good. 1 ' 
 
 "Cheer up," said Benham, laying his hand on the 
 man's shoulder. " I don't think this B your fault. He 
 couldn't have got out without collusion with one of the 
 keepers and therefore I can't see that you are to 
 You are not expected to watch individually every 
 
 " Thai's irae, but IH beheld repomib^. ByGeorge! 
 HI find out how he escaped, anyhow." 
 
 He went out of the ceD and* Hew a whistle, the sound 
 of which resounded all through the prison, and in an in- 
 
 cVnfr lw ....---I i ,,, -mii^-,,1,1,1,1 __ j Im, _ .., . 
 
 suuifc me giLuus vue asaemoieu on me gauery in rront 01 
 
 ^ Who had charge of this division last night and this 
 morning ?" he inquired, surreying with no very pleasant 
 look the half a dozen men that stood in a row before
 
 266 OX THE SUSQUEHANXA. 
 
 "I had charge," answered one of them, "until live 
 o'clock this morning." 
 
 "Did you examine the cells before you were relieved ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. Everything was right when I turned over 
 the charge to Bell." 
 
 "Well, everything's wrong now. The prisoner in 
 No. 11 has escaped, and either you or Bell let him out. 
 Where is Bell ? " But already the others had discovered 
 that Bell was not present, and no one knew where he was. 
 Inquiry revealed the fact that he had not been seen since 
 he relieved his predecessor at five o'clock. 
 
 "Search the jail!" ordered Mr. Schwanger, at last 
 thoroughly aroused, although knowing that it was too late 
 for any good to be accomplished by seeking inside the 
 prison. <f Search the jail from top to bottom. They may 
 not yet have left the building. And you, Williams," ad- 
 dressing one of the men, "go at once and notify the chief 
 of police. Request him to telegraph to all the neighboring 
 towns, above all to Philadelphia, and then come back here 
 at once so as to be ready to make your report in writing, in 
 time for me to submit it to the commissioners. I don't 
 think they can blame me for this affair, anyway," turning 
 to Benham, who had all along remained a silent spectator 
 and listener of what was going on, and apparently expect- 
 ing a consolatory answer. 
 
 "No, Mr. Schwanger," said Benham, good-naturedly, 
 " so far as I can see, you are not to blame for the treachery 
 of one of your subordinates, and the consequent escape of 
 one of your prisoners. I don't know anything, however, 
 at present, that could be more unfortunate. He is a 
 dangerous man the most so of the whole gang." 
 
 "And that gang consists of Todd, ' Confidence Sal,' 
 and himself ? " 
 
 "Yes, so far as we know definitely ; but I am afraid 
 some of the men employed at the Susquehanna Iron- Works
 
 THE SCSQCEHAyNA. 267 
 
 d by Johnson and Todd. They are both 
 
 very specious rascals, and fully capable of imposing on the 
 average workmen in forges and mines. Ton see how read- 
 
 "He's one of the best talkers I ever knew, bnt he's 
 to 'Confidence Sal,' or Mis. L'Estrange, as she 
 called herself yesterday. You never met her, did yon ? " 
 
 "Yes, I spent the evening with her, and was present 
 when she was arrested by the Philadelphia detective." 
 
 Without appearing to notice the look of astonishment 
 on the jailer's face, he continued : 
 
 "I suppose yon have no objection to my seeing the 
 other worthy?" 
 
 "Yon can see him certainly, if he also hasn't escaped. 
 I'm not sore of anything just now. I've trusted these 
 scoundrels too mnch, and, as to the keepers, the most of 
 them are only a degree better than the prisoners, and some 
 of them are worse. I set ont to teach myself, and as a con- 
 sequence I had a fool for my pupiL 111 turn over a new 
 leaf from this time on. HI go down to Cherry Hill and 
 get some lessons, and when I come back HI rule this jail 
 with a rod of iron as sore as my name's Schwanger 
 if/* he added in a low voice, " the commissioners don't 
 tarn me out" 
 
 Again he led the way, Ben ham following, and ascended 
 asleep flight of iron steps that connected the lower with 
 tike npper tier of cells. Stopping in front of one of the 
 doors that opened npon a narrow gallery, from which one 
 could look up to the skylight and down "to the first tier of 
 cells, he opened the grating and looked in. 
 
 "Well, whafs np now ? w inquired the occupant, com- 
 ing to the giating and looking through it at his visitors. 
 
 "Nothing, only here's a gentleman that wants to am 
 yon for a few minutes." 
 
 "AH right; but he can see me a good deal better if
 
 268 ON THE SUSQUEHANSTA. 
 
 you'll open the door and let me come out into the light. 
 A nice opinion he's likely to form of me, looking at me 
 through this hole ! " 
 
 "I guess his opinion of you is pretty much made up 
 already, and he's not likely to change it to your favor if 
 you had all the electric lights between this and Halifax 
 turned on to your face." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Todd, for the first time getting a 
 good look at his visitor and recognizing him, " it's you, is 
 it ? I don't see what you want with me," he added, sulk- 
 ily. "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be here now." 
 
 " I am not so sure about that," replied Benham. "I 
 don't think you would have got away, and if I hadn't 
 stopped you when I did you might not have been here, but 
 you would- quite certainly have been dangling by the neck 
 from a tree on Peter's Mountain." 
 
 " Oh, you think so ! Well, it's some satisfaction for me 
 to be able to inform you*that I've more friends about the 
 Susquehanna Iron-Works than you think for, and that if 
 anybody dangled from a tree it might have been you and 
 not me." 
 
 Benham looked around him, and discovering that the 
 jailer had gone off, doubtless to continue his demonstra- 
 tions against the fugitives, he said : 
 
 " I've not time to quarrel with you. You may find it 
 to your advantage to be honest with me. You are in a 
 tight place. You'll be tried for robbery from the person, 
 and for murder. Your best witnesses, your only ones, in 
 fact, on the latter charge, will be Miss Honeywood and 
 myself." 
 
 "And you both know that I didn't intend to kill my 
 wife." 
 
 "Yes, I think we do. Still, you'll get severe enough 
 punishment, although you may not swing. Judge Wilkins 
 has no mercy on fellows like you, and will give you the
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXSA. ^ 
 
 full extent of the law. Bat I think, for all that, I can 
 help von. I think if yon will give me certain information 
 that I have reason to believe is in your possession, the dis- 
 trict attorney will consent to ignore the charge of robbery 
 on which yon would get at least fire years in addition to 
 your other sentence." 
 
 "If that's all you got to offer Til hold my tongue. 
 I'm one of those lamps that don't burn unless you fill it 
 pretty full of oiL It doesn't make much difference to a 
 man of my age whether he gets twenty or twenty-fire years. 
 If you want me to tell you anything, you Ye got to get me 
 out of this place." 
 
 " That I can't do, and I'm free to admit that if I could 
 I wouldn't You're a great rascal, and you stand a good 
 chance now of getting your deserts you and your sister 
 also." 
 
 " Who are you talking about ? " 
 
 " About your sister, Sarah Lanuny. You didn't know 
 that she was arrested last night at Miss Honeywood's house, 
 and that she is by this time safe in Moyamensing Prison ? " 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me that I" 
 
 " Yes, I do. She made the attempt, and a rery deter- 
 mined and shrewd one it was, too, to pass herself off as Miss 
 Honeywood's mother. She was exposed, and Josephs the 
 detective, recognizing her as ' Confidence Sal,' who perpe- 
 trated the late great diamond robbery in Philadelphia, ar- 
 rested her." 
 
 " So that job's done for ! Well, it wffl disgrace Miss 
 Honeywood more than it will any one else, for my sister is 
 her mother, and Sarah Lammy, as you call her, is my sis- 
 ter. Xow you won't get anything more out of me. So 
 you might as well take yourself off. You're got three of 
 us in jaiL That ought to satisfy you, though you ainf 
 safe yet by a long shot ! " 
 
 " Xo, I don't feel quite safe, now that Johnson is out."
 
 270 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA, 
 
 " Johnson out ! " 
 
 "Yes, he escaped early this morning." 
 
 " Escaped, and left me here ? " 
 
 "He went off with one of the keepers ; bribed him, I 
 suppose." 
 
 "And left me here when he might just as well have 
 taken me along ! " He disappeared from the grating, and 
 Benham could see him walking up and down his narrow 
 cell, and hear him muttering words indicative of his anger 
 at the neglect shown him. 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is," said Todd, at last, coming 
 again to the grating, " he's served me a dirty trick, and 
 I'll tell you all I know about him, at any rate. Now, come 
 close. He's Tony Eackett," he continued, whispering into 
 Benham's ear. "He's an escaped convict from Sing Sing, 
 and has fifteen years to serve there yet for robbing a bank, 
 and they're looking for him for another bank-robbery, too. 
 All he cares for is money, and he'll risk his life or liberty 
 for that any day. It's my opinion that he's gone back to 
 your part of the country, and that you'd better go back too 
 if you want to protect your own, and catch him." 
 
 "You think he has returned to the Works ?" 
 
 "Yes, I'm sure he has. Now, you'll do me a good 
 turn on my trial you and Miss Honeywood by telling 
 the truth, when you might, by a very small lie, get my 
 neck stretched ; and there's strong temptation, I know, for 
 you to tell it and finish me at once. Many a one in your 
 place would so fix things as to hang me, and not damage 
 his conscience much either. But you ain't that sort. I'll 
 do what I can for you to bring Tony to grief, for he's 
 served me a scurvy trick. I knew it was his plan to go 
 right back to the Works and pick up what he could. 
 There's good pickings in Miss Honeywood's house, and in 
 yours, too, besides the safe in your office, where you keep 
 the money for the payment of the men. Then he's bound
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 271 
 
 to be revenged on yon for bringing him here and prevent- 
 ing the first plan ; so hell set fire to TOOT house just as 
 like as cot He don't want to be bothered with women, 
 so jim needn't be afraid for Mis Honeywood. That was 
 my idea about carrying her off, you know; and that's 
 nipped in the bud, I guess. I think you'd better go just as 
 fast as you can back to the Works, for ir's my opinion heTl 
 make things brisk up there by to-morrow if he has his 
 way. I won't tell yon anything about my sister. She's 
 always been square with me, but Tony-s a dirty dog, and 
 111 be even with him if I can." 
 
 Benham listened to this speech with rapt attention. 
 What was he to do ? To go to Montreal, with all that he 
 held dear on earth exposed to the attacks of a ruffian, was 
 not to be thought of ; and yet he was by no means certain 
 that Todd was not lying for the purpose of preventing 
 further inquiries being made in the direction of his sister 
 and her schemes. Apparently his better plan would be to 
 return to the Works, and. preparing for Mr. Tony Backett 
 and his associates, await further developments. Or, better 
 still, if the necessary information could be obtained from 
 Todd, prevent them. One thing was clear to him, and 
 that was that there was sufficient danger to make it inex- 
 pedient for him to go to Montreal 
 
 " I guess I can tell you just about where Tony is now," 
 said Todd, resuming his revelations after having observed 
 the interest they had excited in Benham. "and if yon 
 choose you can nab him before he has a chance to start 
 tilings. He's mighty sharp, though, and you've got to 
 work against him with all the sense you're got, for he 
 calculates exactly how his adversary wfll act in every pos- 
 sible case. The only way yon can beat him is by not let- 
 ting him know that you're" about Get him off the track 
 as far as vou're concerned, for you're the only one he's 
 afraid of."
 
 272 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Benham again thought of what the man had told him. 
 Apparently he was sincere ; but, then, much observation 
 had taught him that such scoundrels as Todd were always 
 apparently sincere when they have an end to accomplish by 
 hypocrisy. He could not quite make up his mind whether 
 the fellow's obvious desire to have him return to the Works 
 was due to the wish to save his sister from further investi- 
 gation, or to a feeling of revenge against Kackett, and a 
 consequent solicitude to secure the destruction of that per- 
 son. He reasoned, however, that no great delay could 
 ensue from the postponement of his visit to Philadelphia 
 and Montreal for a few days, whereas, if he were absent, 
 and Rackett should make a foray on the Works, the con- 
 sequences would be in the highest degree direful. 
 
 "I'll trust you, Todd," he said, at last. "Give me all 
 the information you can, and I'll act upon it, believing 
 you to have told me the truth." 
 
 "I suppose, when it suits me, I can lie like ether peo- 
 ple," answered Todd, with a smile, intended to express 
 frankness, "but this time it suits me to tell the truth. I 
 know the country between Peter's and Berry's Mountains 
 as well as if I had been born there and lived there all my 
 life, for you see I made it my business, having little plans 
 of my own, to study it. You'd better make notes of what 
 I'm going to tell you, for, if you were to forget a single 
 point, you'd miss the place." 
 
 "Haven't you pretty nearly got through with your 
 talk ? " broke in Mr. Schwanger, coming up the steps and 
 beginning to speak ere he had got to the top. "I'm ex- 
 pecting the commissioners here now in half an hour, and I 
 wouldn't like them to see you talking to a prisoner." 
 
 Benham went forward to meet him. 
 
 " Todd is going to give me some very important infor- 
 mation," he said, "that is entirely in the interest of law 
 and order. I have no objections to the commissioners
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 273 
 
 being made acquainted with the fact Howeyer, it is not 
 likely that it will take him more than a few minutes to 
 finish." 
 
 " Very well, I'll leave you alone. There's nothing to 
 be fonnd of Johnson or Bell. Williams reports that two 
 men like them were seen by a policeman at half-past fire 
 this morning going toward the railroad. I've telegraphed 
 to Philadelphia, bat they probably took the Chicago ex- 
 press that passes here at 5.45, in which case they were in 
 Philadelphia before we discovered their escape, I'd have 
 given a thousand dollars rather than have had that fel- 
 low get away." 
 
 "So would I," said Beaham, returning to the cell, 
 "and ten times that and again ten times if I had it." 
 
 "Xow," resumed Todd, "to find Tony, all you*ve got 
 to do is to return to the Works, but to go back at night, 
 and let no one not a soul, if you can help it know that 
 you're there. Tony will have assistance, and his spies will 
 tell him all your movements. I shouldn't wonder if they 
 are on your track now. His place is not the one on 
 Berry's Mountain. We took that for a special purpose 
 that fell through. If a on the south fork of Powell's 
 Greek, just where it makes a bend to the north to empty 
 into the main stream, and not more than two hundred 
 yards from the junction on the east bank. There's some- 
 thing of a hill there, and the creek winds round it, hugging 
 it pretty close. Half-way up this hill is Tony's house, or 
 rather, hut It's built of stones and logs, and I guess was 
 put up by the lime or charcoal burners when they were 
 working at that place. You can't see it from the creek, 
 for if s well concealed by a big spur that comes out of the 
 hill right there. The best way for you to catch Tony 
 would be for you to come down on him from the top of 
 the hill rather than up from the creek. You'd better, if 
 you follow this plan, stick to the road that, coming from
 
 274 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Dauphin, crosses Peter's Mountain, and reaches the valley 
 just to the west of the Big Swamp. Then keep on the 
 road, crossing Powell's Creek at Hoffman's, and keeping 
 along the north bank till you come to a road that starts 
 from a grist-mill. Don't take that road, but continue on 
 along the creek till you reach a saw-mill. There you will 
 find a road running almost due east. Follow it till you 
 strike the south edge of the hill. Then you will be not 
 far from Tony's place. You can go up the hill and strike 
 him from above." 
 
 "That's all clear and very precise," said Benham. 
 "I've got it all down here, and I shall act upon it within 
 forty-eight hours. I know the country thoroughly, and 
 shall have no trouble in catching your friend if he is where 
 you think he is. I need not say," he continued, "that if 
 you are true in this matter it shall not be to your disadvan- 
 tage. I am not able to promise anything beyond my good 
 will, and I think that of my friends, and that it will be ex- 
 erted to obtain such an amelioration of your punishment as 
 may not be inconsistent with the demands of justice." 
 
 With these words he left the gallery, and after a word 
 of thanks to Mr. Schwanger repaired to his hotel. Here he 
 found dispatches awaiting him from Messrs. Smart and 
 Eaton. Both gentlemen confirmed the statements of Mrs. 
 L'Estrange, or Sarah Lammy, relative to the late Mr. 
 Honeywood's marriage, and informed him that affidavits to 
 that effect would be immediately forwarded to Mr. Wade, as 
 Benham had requested.
 
 CHAPTEB XX. 
 
 strongly impressed with the truth of 
 Todd's statements, and of the ralne of the information be 
 had received from that worthy, and an incident that occurred 
 in the act of reading the telegrams sent by 
 and Eaton tended still further to increase his 
 Todd's good faith. He was standing at the 
 with the telegrams in his hand, 
 green to him by the cJerk, when, hap- 
 to raise his eyes, he saw a man standing at the other 
 end of the counter and regarding him Teryattentirely. At 
 
 his attention. He knew a great many people, and a still 
 jMlii i Mil ir iljn'i/it ill i I Beside3,Ben- 
 an, and was sure to be stared 
 he might go. But now his mind 
 was so frnfly occupied with what Todd had told him that 
 be determined to ke^ bis ey on the man. Theideathat 
 he might be watched by spies in the interest of the escaped 
 prisoner, that had been huggatted by Todd, occurred to 
 him very forcibly. He therefore gave the man a good, 
 steady look so as to get a notion of his appearance that 
 not be Hkerc to fade oat of his meroorr, and then he 
 
 L of comae of great interest to 
 the fact as it did that Mr. Honeywood had been lawfully 
 although perhaps fraudulently married. For 
 he eared nothing about the
 
 276 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 love and admiration for Alana were so great that no extent 
 of parental degradation would have diminished those emo- 
 tions in the slightest degree. In fact, so far as he could 
 determine from the analysis of his thoughts, imperfect as 
 it was that he could make under the circumstances, he was 
 inclined to think that he should, if possible, love her all 
 the more for any ignoble origin that she might have had, 
 and that he would feel happier in his love. 
 
 He was engaged with his telegrams, and had forgotten 
 all about the man that had stared at him so fixedly from 
 the other end of the counter, when suddenly he felt a 
 slight cooling sensation on the back of his neck as though 
 some one was breathing on it. Without moving his head 
 he turned his eyes in the direction of a mirror that was 
 nearly opposite to him, and there saw that tho man was very 
 calmly looking over his shoulder Avhile pretending to light 
 a cigar with a match, and was endeavoring to read the 
 writing on the paper before him. 
 
 Benham's first impulse was to turn and seize the man, 
 and to give him a lesson in decency in the shape of a good 
 shaking or a sound box on the side of his head, but a mo- 
 ment's reflection was sufficient to convince him that pol- 
 icy required that a different course should be followed. 
 Without, therefore, letting the fellow see that he had been 
 observed, he folded up the dispatches and putting them 
 into his pocket inquired of the clerk in a loud voice when 
 the next train started for Philadelphia. 
 
 " The accommodation-train goes in half an hour," he 
 answered. " It's made up here. It's as tiresome almost as 
 a canal-boat, for it stops at every station." 
 
 "Yes, but I'm in a hurry to get to Philadelphia. It's 
 now eleven o'clock. I'll have time to see a gentleman on 
 business, and I'll be in Philadelphia by five o'clock this 
 evening." 
 
 While this conversation was going on, Benham had
 
 OK THE SUSQCEHANNA. 077 
 
 glanced every now and then at the man who he was now 
 sore was a spy, and perceived with satisfaction that he was 
 eagerly listening to what was being said. He congratulated 
 himself on his forbearance in not baring given him a casti- 
 gation, and then went a short distance to the office of a 
 prominent coal-dealer, with whom he had a business trans- 
 action to consummate, leaving directions with the clerk 
 for his valise to be sent to the station in time for the 
 11.30 train. 
 
 Promptly at five minutes before the time for the start- 
 ing of the train, Benham was at the station. He glanced 
 around him as he entered the ticket-office, and was not at 
 all surprised to discover, looking over the piles of books 
 kept by the newsman, the identical person who had 
 already shown so marked a desire to pry into his affairs. 
 Benhaxn stepped up to the little window out of which the 
 ticket agent was looking, and in a loud voice, intended to 
 reach the spy, asked for a ticket for Philadelphia. Then 
 he entered the car of the train that was standing on the 
 track, and, seating himself at a window, looked out. The 
 man was there, on the platform, having evidently kept 
 Benham in sight till he had seen him on the train and ap- 
 parently bound for Philadelphia. As the train moved out 
 of the station, Benham saw that the man turned and 
 walked rapidly away in the direction of Market Street 
 
 Benham had selected an accommodation-train purposely, 
 with the object of leaving it at Middletown, the first sta- 
 tion after Highspire, at which it stopped, and the nearest 
 one at which he would be able to hire a conveyance to take 
 him, by a somewhat roundabout road, back to the Susque- 
 hanna Iron- Works. He was well acquainted with the conn- 
 try, and it was his intention to drive through the roads to 
 the east of Harrisburg, to Dauphin, a station on the North- 
 ern Central Railroad, and then, taking a late train, arrive 
 at the Works somewhere in the middle of the night, trust-
 
 278 ON THE SUSQUEEIANNA. 
 
 ing to chance and good management to escape observa- 
 tion. 
 
 Arriving at Middletown, he had no difficulty in hiring 
 a buggy* a pair of horses, and a driver ; and, in less than 
 one hour, was on his way to Linglestown, at which place 
 he proposed to take dinner, and to stop till the day was so 
 far advanced as to allow of his reaching Dauphin, where he 
 was well known, after nightfall. 
 
 As a boy, he had frequently traversed the fertile fields 
 in the southern and eastern parts of Dauphin County, 
 shooting quails or partridges, as they are there called 
 and had many a time eaten and drunk at Mrs. Schupp's 
 tavern. The good woman had known him well ten years 
 ago, but he hoped that, with the lapse of time, he had be- 
 come so changed, and her eyes so old, that she would not 
 recognize him. For she was a famous gossip, and Lingles- 
 town was very near the base of the First Mountain, one of 
 the ranges of which Peter's Mountain was another of the 
 group, and it was not at all improbable that Johnson, or 
 some of his gang, might be prowling about the vicinity, 
 and likely at any moment to take advantage of Mrs. 
 Schupp's hospitality. Besides, the rich farmers in the 
 vicinity offered tempting baits for marauders such as 
 they, and had already suffered from masked desperadoes, 
 who, now that his attention was directed to the matter, 
 Benham had no doubt were under Johnson's command. 
 They could very easily make their headquarters on the 
 north side of Peter's Mountain, and, coming down through 
 Heckert's Gap and Manada Gap, prey on the inhabitants 
 of the country between the mountains and the Swatara 
 Creek, without any great fear of being caught. 
 
 It was near two o'clock when Benham drove up in front 
 of the " Hoofnagle House," by which name Mrs. Schupp's 
 hostelry was known. While the driver took the horses 
 round to the stable behind the house, Benham entered the
 
 05 THE SUSQCEHASXA. ivJ* 
 
 rge apartment that sored as sitting-room, bar-room, and 
 and inquired of the young woman sitting there, and 
 knitting a stocking, whether or not he could obtain refresh- 
 
 - Dinner's orer two hams ago," answered the damsel, 
 her eres or ceasing her occupation, "and 
 i down to Schwenkfelders.*' 
 
 "Fd just as soon you'd get me and my driver some- 
 thing to eat as hare your mother get it." 
 
 "Would you ? But you see it isn't as you like, 79 stifl 
 not stopping her task, or looking at him. 
 
 "Xo, ifs as you like. Xow, I know you're got a nice 
 chicken, and some new-laid eggs, and fresh oread and but- 
 ter, and some big potatoes in the spring-house, and in that 
 cupboard." 
 
 "Sakesalire ! how did yon know all that ?* exclaimed 
 the girl, dropping her work, and for the first time conde- 
 scending to look at her risitor. 
 
 "Oh I I gsmed as much,'* answered Benham, Emfling. 
 " Perhaps," he added, with a view of getting as far as possi- 
 ble into the good graces of the young woman, "Fre been 
 here before." 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder. That's what frightened me. 
 How do I know that you ain't one of those masked robbers 
 that drive round the country in the daytime to hunt for 
 good places to rob, and then come down at night and do 
 the work?" 
 
 "I don't look like a robber, do I?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know about that, 7 * answered the girl, 
 still looking somewhat frightened, but evidently acquiring 
 confidence. "They amj they're just as good-looking as 
 other men. Mia. SchwenkfeHer saw one of them last 
 night, though she was half dead with the scare." 
 
 Was Mn. SchwenkfeUer robbed last night ?" 
 
 "Why, goodness gracious! Didn't you know that?
 
 280 ON THE SUSQTJEHANNA. 
 
 Of course she was. All the spoons that her great-grand- 
 mother brought from Germany more than a hundred years 
 ago, and a cream-jug, that she wouldn't have taken a thou- 
 sand dollars for. For it had once belonged to Martin 
 Luther's wife's mother, so they say ; though," with a con- 
 temptuous toss of the head, "I don't believe them stories 
 much. Two hundred dollars ia gold," going on with her 
 recital, "that they'd had ever since long before the war, 
 and that they kept when they might have got more than 
 two for one for it, and a thousand-dollar bond, to say noth- 
 ing of a piece of silk, that she meant to have made up next 
 week, in time for the meeting of the classis in Ilarrisburg." 
 
 " How she did talk, after being fairly roused ! " thought 
 Benham. Evidently she was a chip of the old block. lie 
 recollected her as a yellow-haired child running about the 
 one long street in bare legs and feet through week-days, 
 and on Sundays appearing in all the glory of sky-blue 
 mousseline de lains trimmed with red bows, and a hat that 
 shone with all the colors of the rainbow. But that was ten 
 years ago, when she was eight years old, and answered to 
 the name of "Very," which was short for Veronica. 
 
 "You'll let me have that chicken and the other things 
 now, won't you, Miss Schupp?" he said, taking a seat as 
 though he intended to stay whether she did or not. " If I 
 were a robber, it isn't likely I'd ask you for anything. I'd 
 tie your feet to that chair and help myself. " 
 
 " Lord ! " she exclaimed, jumping up from the 
 rocking-chair that she had kept vigorously in motion all 
 through the interview. " That's just what they did to 
 Mrs. Schwenkfelder, and old Mrs. Sloterbach who was in 
 the house, having come over from Wormelsdorf on a visit. 
 She's eighty-nine, and she goes all around the country 
 visiting her friends just as if she might be only nineteen. 
 Mrs. Schwenkfelder saw the face of one of the men as he 
 bent over her to tie her. He was a tall man, about your
 
 ON THE SUSQUZHANNA. 281 
 
 height, I gness, and as broad-shouldered as you, only he 
 wore dark clothes while yours are light, rather. He had a 
 piece of black cloth oyer his face with holes cut for his eyes. 
 While he was tying her, the cloth dipped off, and then she 
 saw bis face, all covered with a thick black beard, and with 
 only two front teeth, one on each side of his mouth, just 
 like, as old Mrs. Sloterbach said, as though they were mile- 
 stones. Yes, I'll give you something to eat," proceeding as 
 she spoke to set the table, " and she says she'd know him 
 again if she was to see him a hundred years from now." 
 
 "I'm quite sure of it That's a good girL Xow, 
 Very, my dear, be as quick as you can, please, and " 
 
 "How do you know my name is Very?" she asked, 
 smiling at last, and showing a pretty set of teeth. " Are 
 yon acquainted about here ? " 
 
 " I used to come out here to hunt. Many a partridge 
 FTC killed in Jake Hoofnagle's fields over there by Paxton 
 Creek, and your mother has cooked them for me, too." 
 
 " I wonder who you are ? May be you're one of them 
 Albright boys from Manada Furnace. Only they're more 
 stuck up than you are. If you wouldn't mind a cold 
 snack, there's a nice cold roast chicken in the spring-house, 
 and a bit of hog's-head cheese that George Krans, who took 
 tea with us last night, said couldn't be beat in Lebanon 
 County. He's from Myerstown, in Lebanon County, and 
 he just thinks we people in Dauphin don't know any- 
 thing about housekeeping. But I guess we took him 
 down a peg or two before he left, for he had to admit that 
 our apple-butter was better than what his own mother 
 could make, and she took the prize at the agricultural fair 
 at Lancaster last year." 
 
 " By all means give us the cold chicken and the hog's- 
 head cheese," said Benhani, as soon as Miss Veronica's 
 breath had given out, and she was forced to stop to give 
 her lungs a chance to recuperate.
 
 282 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " Yes, it will save you half an hour's time, I guess, and 
 then I'll make you some tea or coffee, whichever you like. 
 There's a cold apple-pie, too." 
 
 " I shall dine like a king, and I'll take tea instead of 
 coffee. I say, Very ! " 
 
 " "Well, what is it ? I don't mind your calling me 
 Very, because you began ten years ago," she went on, not 
 waiting for an answer. "But when I was at school at 
 Litiz and I've only been home since June everybody 
 called me Veronica. The sisters thought Very was undig- 
 nified." 
 
 " I wish you'd tell me something more about the rob- 
 bery last night." 
 
 " Oh, I'll tell you all I know, and that's as much as any 
 one knows, I guess. It was about one o'clock this morn- 
 ing when it took place. Four men were in it, all with 
 their faces covered with black cloth just like the one that 
 Mrs. Schwenkfelder saw. They didn't do any harm to 
 any one except to tie them to chairs. Mr. Schwenkfelder 
 is in Philadelphia ; at least he was, but I guess he came 
 back by the first train after he got his wife's telegram. 
 Mother went down there as soon as she heard about it, and 
 she hasn't got back yet, but Mr. Heydecker, our pastor, 
 came by here an hour ago and gave me all the particulars." 
 
 "Did he tell you what kind of looking men they 
 were ? " 
 
 " Yes, one, the one that had the cloth fall from his 
 face, was very tall, six feet five at least, so Mr. Heydecker 
 said, but the others were rather undersized. The tall one 
 was the leader, and one of the men he called George ; by 
 mistake, I guess, for he swore awfully just after he did it. 
 After they had got all the silver and money and bonds 
 they could lay their hands on, they went for something to 
 eat, and sat down at the table and had a good supper. 
 Then they went away, and this morning, when the hired
 
 OS TEE SU3QUEHAX5A, iS3 
 
 to the home, he found the two ladies still tied 
 
 to their 
 
 fa tint the only robbery that 3 3 been committed about 
 here?" 
 
 " Oh, no! There have been half a dozen more during 
 the last two weeks, and there are several detectives at 
 work trying to find the robbers. But so far they haven't 
 discovered a trace of them. One tiling's very cation 
 they don't live near here. All the country this side of 
 the mountain's been gone over." 
 
 By this time the table was set and the eatables placed on 
 it in tempting array, and Mis Veronica, going to the back 
 door, called the driver to come in and partake, which he did 
 with an appetite almost as great as that that Benham was 
 Sever had chicken and hog*s-head cheese tasted 
 
 better than they did now ; the bread was fresh and light, 
 the butler sweet, and, if the tea might have been better, the 
 delicious cream that Miss Schupp poured into it with a 
 lavish hand gave it a flavor of its own that more than 
 for original deficiencies. 
 
 the horses were again hitched into the buggy, and 
 prepared to resume his journey. It was then 
 about three o'clock, and he had at feast ten mfles to go, 
 the greater part of the distance being over two ranges of 
 mountains, and by not a very good road. However, he 
 did not desire to get to Dauphin much before the pas- 
 sage of the train that was due at the works at 11.30. 
 That was a freight-train, but there was always a passenger- 
 car attached to the rear end of it, and it rarely carried 
 
 "Ido wonder who you are," said Miss Sehupp, in her 
 most fnshmating voice. "Mail be here now in half an 
 hour, and shell ask me who's been here, and I won't be 
 able to ten her." 
 
 "Wen, tefl me," and Benham, smiling, "how much I
 
 284 ON" THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 am indebted for the delicious repast you've given us, and 
 the feed for the horses, and anything else that comes under 
 the heading of food for man and beast, and then, if you'll 
 promise not to tell anybody but your mother, I'll send you 
 word this day week who I am." 
 
 " I suppose two dollars will cover everything ; but it's 
 ridiculous, the idea of waiting a week to know who you 
 are ! ' I sha'u't care anything about it by that time. I sus- 
 pect you're one of them detectives looking for the robbers. 
 Yes, that's it ! Oh, I'm sure, from your face ! Well, to 
 think that I was such a fool as not to see it the moment 
 you came in." 
 
 " You're a good guesser, Very. Yes, you've hit it. I'm 
 looking for the robbers. Give my love to your mother " 
 he handed her a two-dollar note as he spoke "and 
 tell her that she couldn't have treated me better than 
 you have. The Hoofnagle House has never been better 
 kept than it is now, not even when your father was 
 alive. Good-by ! I'll let you know when I find the rob- 
 bers." 
 
 The buggy drove up to the door as he spoke, and he 
 got into it. 
 
 "I half believe you're fooling me," she said, with a lit- 
 tle laugh. "There's to be an apple-butter boiling here to- 
 night, and there'll be lots of fun. You'd better stay, and 
 then you can give your messages to ma yourself. Miss 
 Maclay and her brother are coming from Ilarrisburg, and 
 lots of ladies and gentlemen from Hummelstown and 
 Manadaville. May be, if you'll stay, you'll get a chance to 
 catch the robbers." 
 
 "No, the inducements are strong, but I shall have to 
 tear myself away. Good-by ! " The driver touched the 
 horses with his whip, they sprang forward, and Miss 
 Schupp, watching the retreating vehicle till it had passed 
 the Winebrennarian church, re-entered the house, and be-
 
 ON THE SrSQUZHAXXA. 2S5 
 
 took herself to the occupation of knitting, that Benbam'a 
 arrival had interrupted. 
 
 As to Benham, the intelligence given him by Miss 
 Schnpp was well calculated to fill his mind with anxiety 
 and fear. He had now no doubt whatever that Todd's story 
 was not only true, but that that worthy had not revealed 
 the one half of what he knew. He had told enough to 
 lead, if prudently acted upon, to the discomfiture of John- 
 son, or Backett, as he should now be called, but nothing 
 more, A regularly organized gang of desperadoes existed, 
 and the headquarters were in the immediate vicinity of 
 the Susquehanna Iron- Works. As usual with such bands, 
 they had not attacked the homes or property of those liv- 
 ing near them, but had confined their depredations to the 
 residents of more distant localities. Doubtless, however, 
 as they exhausted the revenues of the well-to-do people 
 living on the fertile plains south of the mountains, they 
 would turn their attention to the no less wealthy inhab- 
 itants of the valleys, and especially to the Susquehanna 
 Iron-Works, upon which they had no doubt long been 
 casting covetous eyes. 
 
 It was not likely, he thought, that they would come 
 down on the Works that night, and even if they did, highly 
 improbable that their attempt would be made before mid- 
 night, by which time he would be at home, and in a 
 measure prepared for them. Still, the idea of the danger to 
 which his mother and Alana were exposed caused him a 
 greater degree of uneasiness than he had experienced for 
 many a long day. 
 
 As they drove along over the country road that ran 
 almost due north from Linglestown, and that had almost 
 from the start begun to rise in its ascent of the First 
 Mountain, he began to lay out his plans for effecting the 
 capture or destruction of Backettrs band. In the first 
 place, his presence at the Works must be known to none
 
 286 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 but those upon whom he could depend, with absolute con- 
 fidence in their integrity and efficiency. In his own house 
 he intended that he would, if possible, let no one except 
 his mother know of his return. He did not know to what 
 extent, if any, the workmen had been tampered with, and, 
 as the two women-servants of his establishment had ac- 
 quaintances among them, he deemed it expedient to keep 
 them in ignorance of his whereabouts. ' 
 
 As to Alana, he was in doubt, for a long time, how to 
 act toward her in the matter. At first he thought he 
 would take her into his confidence ; then, as some weighty 
 objection to that procedure suggested itself to him, he de- 
 termined not to reveal his return to her. Then, again, his 
 inclinations "would get the better of him, and he would 
 decide that it would be unkind to her and to himself not 
 to acquaint her with the fact of his presence at the "Works. 
 Besides, he argued, she was endowed with good sense, of 
 the kind generally known as "common" though why it 
 should be called so is a mystery, seeing that it is com- 
 paratively rarely met with and that her advice as to the 
 methods to be adopted for defense and attack would be 
 valuable. Finally, however, he arrived at the conclusion 
 that it would be better, upon the whole, to keep her in 
 ignorance of his return. The circumstances that turned 
 the scale in favor of this conclusion were the facts that 
 she had already suffered great anxiety and distress through 
 these people ; that she now believed that her trials, so far as 
 they were concerned, were nearly at an end ; and that to 
 re-excite her fears would be to run the risk of making her 
 seriously ill, especially as the matter was one that it might 
 take several days to bring to a satisfactory termination. 
 
 Scarcely of less importance was the consideration of the 
 effect that the knowledge that she was suffering would pro- 
 duce upon him, and the disturbance in his natural equi- 
 librium that would thereby be produced. In dealing with
 
 O5T THE 
 
 it -was indispensable 
 
 dMNdd have all his wto abort him, for there was no 
 that he would hare tone them. Xow, if he were to be 
 objected to the influence of the knowledge that AJana 
 was alarmed for his or her own safety, he knew himself 
 wefl enough to be conscious of the fact thai his mind 
 would not work with that degree of daspaasaonaieneai that 
 was reqokite for the socoess of the campaign upon which 
 he was abont to enter. Xo, she must know nothing of his 
 arrival and stay at the Works tffl there was no doubt of 
 the discomfiture of his and her antagonists 
 
 Thk question settkd, he gare himself no farther anx- 
 iety on the subject of the detailed plan of procedure, except 
 that he determined that he would, the first thing in the 
 morning, send for Dr. ArndeJl and discuss with him the tac- 
 tics to be employed. There were several employes whom he 
 to take into his confidence, and who would consti- 
 attaeking and defensive parties. This much he 
 settle now; the raft mm* be arranged after a fuller 
 knowledge of the circumstances than was now in Ms pas- 
 
 Up to this time he had made no effort to engage his 
 
 fellow, with the peculiar Pennsylvania-German build and 
 mat of features constantly encountered in the middle part 
 of the State, and with a like degree of mental stolidity to 
 that posees-ed by his type in general like the rest of his 
 kind he talked English, and without any notable 
 ity. fluty jf'eau vrfwft it w 
 woe many, even among the young of those living in the 
 region in qaeetion, who either did not speak any other lan- 
 guage than their peculiar prtit, or, if they did speak Eng- 
 lish, did it wi& an accent that at once revealed their ori- 
 gin. At that time a large edition of die laws passed by 
 the Legislature was printed in the 
 13
 
 288 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Even high offices were filled by persons whose knowledge 
 of the predominant language of the country was so imper- 
 fect that they were unable to obtain a clear idea, even if 
 they had not been naturally stupid, of the matters sub- 
 mitted for their official action. 
 
 Thus, upon one occasion, a case of great importance 
 was being argued at Harrisburg before a full bench, com- 
 posed of the chief judge and two associate judges, who, 
 strange to say, were not required to be lawyers. Indeed, if 
 I am not mistaken, it was expressly provided by law that 
 they should not be lawyers. The chief judge gave great 
 attention to the case, and at the conclusion of the speeches 
 of the lawyer* announced his decision. It was observed 
 that one of the associates, an old Dauphin County Penn- 
 sylvania German, was very diligently, apparently, taking 
 voluminous notes upon sheet after sheet of paper, and the 
 chief judge, a recent appointment, thinking to find a con- 
 firmation of the views he had expressed, turned to him and 
 said : 
 
 f( I should like to hear my learned brother's opinion 
 upon the points involved." 
 
 "Vatvasdat?" 
 
 " Observing that you have taken full notes of the case, 
 it would be a satisfaction to receive your views." 
 
 " Vat, dem ? " pointing to the sheets of paper. 
 
 " Yes, your notes." 
 
 " Ah, mem Gott ! dem ist nicht notes. I vas only 
 drawing a cow." 
 
 Whether the driver, whose name was originally Schnei- 
 der, but who was now called Snyder, was mentally "draw- 
 ing a cow " or not, Benham soon discovered that he appar- 
 ently had no idea on any subject, for he found it impossible 
 to get a word out of him except " yes " or " no," and even 
 those monosyllables he generally dispensed with by substi- 
 tuting for them a nod or a shake of his head. He there-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANXA. 289 
 
 fore ceased trying to draw him into conversation, and, 
 trusting to his own knowledge of the region of country 
 through which they were passing, lighted a cigar, and 
 allowed his taciturn companion to indulge in such reflec- 
 tions as his dull brain was able to suggest. 
 
 They had now reached the summit of the First Mount- 
 ain without meeting a living souL The road was rocky 
 and ran through a dense growth of timber ; but Mr. Sny- 
 der, whatever his degree of sociability, was a good driver, 
 and gave his attention to his horses with an efficiency that 
 argued strongly in favor of his faithfulness to the duties of 
 the position in life to which he had been called. Descend- 
 ing the north side of the mountain, they crossed Fishing 
 Creek, and then the valley between the First and Second 
 Mountains, and then the ascent of the Second Mountain 
 was begun. The road over the First Mountain had not been 
 a bad one, although sufficiently rugged, but now they found 
 that there was no road except such as had been made by 
 wood-cutters, and that some care was required to keep in the 
 right direction. Occasionally a wrong turn was made, but 
 Snyder very soon detected the error and got back to the road 
 that was a little better marked than any other, and that led 
 almost due north over the ridge. The descent of the Sec- 
 ond Mountain was not a matter of much difficulty, and 
 ere long Stony Creek was reached. Here there was a well- 
 kept country road that ran along the creek, crossing and 
 recrossing it almost every hundred yards. It was well that 
 the difficulties of the journey were in the main sur- 
 mounted, for when they struck the creek it was quite dark, 
 and travel over such a road a? the one they had followed 
 over the Second Mountain would have been impossible. 
 Turning to the west, they skirted along the base of the 
 mountain and on the banks of Stony Creek, till at about 
 nine o'clock Benham found himself entering the precincts 
 of the borough of Dauphin. It would be two hours and a
 
 290 ON THE SUSQUEHANKA.. 
 
 half before the train that he had contemplated taking 
 would be due. What to do with himself in the interval he 
 did not know. Suddenly an idea struck him. 
 
 "Are your horses fresh ?" he asked the driver. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It's about six miles farther to where I want to go. 
 Can you drive me there ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " How much more shall I give you ?" 
 
 "Three dollars." 
 
 " Very well, then ; go on through Dauphin. Follow the 
 road along the Susquehanna till you turn the point of 
 Peter's Mountain. Then take the right-hand fork, and in 
 five minutes afterward you will be at the "Works. You can 
 do it in an hour. " 
 
 No reply was made to this, and, without further conver- 
 sation, within the hour the light at the railway-station was 
 in sight. 
 
 "Now," said Benham, when they had arrived within a 
 hundred yards of the station, the road here running close 
 to the railway, "stop here, for I prefer to do the rest of 
 the distance on foot. Here's your hire," handing him as 
 he spoke the sum agreed upon, " and here are five dollars 
 for yourself." 
 
 The man took the money, but said not a word in ac- 
 knowledgment of the gift, except something that sounded 
 like "All right." Then, Benham having descended from 
 the vehicle, he drove off rapidly in the opposite direction, 
 and was soon lost to sight and hearing. 
 
 For a moment Benham stood, undecided what course to 
 take. By going to the right, he would be obliged to pass 
 near the forge, and run the risk of being observed by some 
 of the workmen. By keeping to the left, he would have 
 to pass through the village street, and would be equally 
 liable to notice. He could take a course midway between
 
 OS THE SCSQEEHAS^JL i- l 
 
 two road?, and one that would lead him in 
 direct line to his home, but ifc was through fields, and OTCT 
 ditches and ponds, and. as the night was daifc, was not a 
 iwy comfortable or era safe one. XerortheJess, he de- 
 
 to follow it ; so, Himtiitijr the fiance that boimded the 
 IP from the rsrer, and with the flames 
 
 Several times be stumbled and fell orer big 
 tones, and once got into a ditch that was half full of sftag- 
 
 at bk own door, without hawing been obeerred, so far as he 
 r, by a tiring foul
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 AN~D then, just as he was about to let himself in with 
 his latch-key, and make his arrival known to his mother, 
 an idea occurred to him, which appeared to be so extremely 
 natural, that the only wonder was that he had not con- 
 ceived it before, and' that was, to go and stay with Dr. 
 Arndell, and, making his headquarters with his friend, di- 
 rect his campaign with a much greater likelihood of keep- 
 ing his presence a secret than would be the case were ho 
 to stay in his own house. The doctor kept but one servant, 
 and he was a man ; he took his meals at the tavern, and it 
 could easily be arranged that food should be sent from that 
 place, ostensibly for a sick friend under medical treatment. 
 He looked at his watch, and, by the lurid light of the 
 flames rising from the forge-chimneys, he saw that it 
 wanted a quarter to eleven. The doctor, he knew, sat up 
 late, and he had no doubt that he should find him, in utter 
 disregard of the principles of sanitary science, smoking his 
 tenth cigar for the evening, and looking forward with 
 pleasing anticipations to the oyster-supper that it was his 
 custom to cook for himself when the bivalves were in sea- 
 son, and to cat just before going to bed. He therefore 
 descended the steps, and, turning sharply to the right, pro- 
 ceeded in the direction of Dr. ArndelPs residence. On his 
 way he had to pass directly in front of Alana's house. He 
 stopped for a moment. All was still, and below all was 
 dark. In an upper room, the one immediatelv over the 
 drawing-room, and occupying the southeast corner, a light
 
 ox THE srsgrzHAy^A. 293 
 
 was burning. The blinds were down, and against one of 
 them the shadow of a woman was projected, its outlines 
 harp and dean, as though, she were sitting directly in a 
 line between the lamp and the window. She was motion- 
 less, her hands resting in her lap, and her head bent for- 
 ward, as though she were deep in thought. He kissed his 
 hand to her. " God bless you, my darling ! "* he exclaimed, 
 passionately. "Your dear heart is torn with fears and sor- 
 rows, but, with God's help, it shall ere long be filled with 
 joy." He gazed fondly at the figure on the window-blind 
 a moment longer, and was turning away, to resume his 
 walk to the doctor's house, when he saw the hands of the 
 shadow raised to the face, and held there as though their 
 prototype were suffering an agony of grief. For an instant 
 he was tempted to ring the bell, and reveal his presence to 
 her, but, as he looked, the light was extinguished, and 
 then he could see no more. In a few moments he was at 
 Dr. AradelTs door. 
 
 Here he did not hesitate. He knew that the doctor's 
 man slept over the stable, and that, when the physician 
 was obliged to go out at night to any considerable distance, 
 he was notified of the fact by a loud bell, the cord of which 
 hung from the ceiling, near the head of his master's bed. 
 The house-bell, after dark, was always answered by the 
 doctor in person. Benham gave it a rigorous pull, and, in 
 a moment or two, the door was opened, as he had supposed 
 it would be, by Dr. Arndell himself. 
 
 "Good heavens, Benham ! n exclaimed the doctor, a 
 look of astonishment overspreading his face. <- 1 thought 
 you went to Philadelphia this morning. Has anything 
 happened? Come in. " 
 
 "Yes, a good deal has happened," answered Benham, 
 as the two entered the doctor's cozy sitting-room, adjoining 
 his office. "I started to go to Philadelphia this morning, 
 but, in consequence of what I heard, I have come back, and
 
 294: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 one object I had in returning was to get your assistance 
 in a matter of vital importance to us all here at the 
 Works." 
 
 "Well, sit down and take a pipe, or a cigar, and a bot- 
 tle of Bass, and tell me all about it. You know me well 
 enough to have no doubt that I am at your service for any 
 kind of aid I can give you. So that point is settled. 
 Now, in order that I may be enabled to act intelligently, 
 tell me the whole story. " 
 
 " You're a good fellow, and I thank you with all my 
 heart. The gist of the whole matter can be told in a few 
 words. There is a band of robbers occupying a hut on 
 Powell's Creek, a short distance east of the Big Swamp. I 
 know the exact place. They have already committed sev- 
 eral robberies in Lower Paxton and in East and West Han- 
 over Townships. It is their design to attack us here at 
 the Works, either to-morrow night or the night after. 
 Their leader is the man Johnson, alias Tony Eackett, 
 whom I captured and had sent to jail on a charge of con- 
 spiracy to burn my house, and, what you have not yet 
 heard, to abduct Miss Houeywood and hold her for a ran- 
 som or to extract money from her. This morning he es- 
 caped from jail, taking one of the keepers with him, and is 
 now doubtless with his gang. Todd, who was also a mem- 
 ber of the band, gave me the most of these facts in revenge 
 for Kackett going off without him. A spy was set to watch 
 my movements, but I think I have succeeded in leading 
 him astray. He thinks I am by this time in Philadelphia. 
 I left the train at Middletown and drove here by way of 
 Linglestown and over the mountains. No one in the world 
 but you and my driver knows I am here, and he does not 
 know who I am. I want you to keep me here in absolute 
 secrecy while we plan and execute a campaign against the 
 rascals, and I want you to take charge of one division of 
 our forces, while I look after the other."
 
 OS THE STSQUEHAXSA, 395 
 
 While Benham was speaking, Dr. ArndelTs face, as the 
 several pieces of information were given him, went through, 
 inany different expressions. He had a warm-hearted and 
 sympathizing nature, and was capable of forming strong 
 attachments. He fiked Benham, and he loved Alanau and 
 the proposition therefore that was made to him at once 
 found a ready response. Besides, he was of a decidedly 
 adventurous disposition. Immediately after receiving his 
 degree of Doctor of Medicine he had" entered the United 
 States Army as an assistant surgeon, and had passed the 
 first five years of his profesaonal Kfe west of the Mississippi 
 Biver, in almost continual warfare with the nomadic In- 
 dians of that part of the country. 
 
 Benham had made his acquaintance while both were in 
 attendance on the course of instruction in the University 
 of Pennsylvania, the one in the scientific and the other in 
 the medical department. When, therefore, old Dr. Simp- 
 son, who had been the physician to the Works ever since 
 Mr. Honeywood had founded them, took it into his head to 
 marry a rich Boston widow and to go to that city to reside, 
 Benham wrote to Dr. Arndell and offered him the vacant po- 
 sition. It was a good one, as those tilings go. The Works 
 paid him twenty-five hundred dollars a year for attending 
 the workmen, and he made a similar mm by his general 
 practice. His expenses were not great, so that he was gradu- 
 ally accumulating money. To be sure, he had at first met 
 with the strenuous hostility of his less fortunate rivals, 
 through the spirit of trades-unionism that exists to a small 
 bat powerful extent in the medical profession, and that if 
 it had ite way would degrade a noble caffing to the level of 
 bricklaying and shoemaking. But he was an aggressive 
 man, and when attacked he *not only defended himself but 
 attacked in return ; so that, ere long, it got to be regarded 
 as a dangerous thing to throw stones at Dr. Arndell, for 
 he was very likely to find the weak spots in his assailant's
 
 290 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 armor, and to direct his blows at them with a vigor that 
 made itself felt. 
 
 It was the most natural thing in the world that a man 
 with his mental organization should have great confidence 
 in himself, but in his case this feeling was carried to an 
 extent that reached the verge of absurdity. There was 
 scarcely anything within the range of possibility that he 
 did not think he could accomplish, and, as it often hap- 
 pened that his performance fell far short of his anticipa- 
 tions, he was somewhat in danger of getting an unenviable 
 reputation for unreliability. Nevertheless, he did so much 
 more than most other men with his opportunities would 
 have accomplished, that those who knew him were very 
 willing to excuse his failures in view of his actual accom- 
 plishments. 
 
 For several years he had been in love with Alaua Honey- 
 wood, and, though she had never gone further with him 
 than to treat him with politeness, he felt very sure in his 
 own mind that he had only to ask her to be his wife in 
 order to have her fall into his arms. He had not, for 
 various reasons, asked her yet. The recent death of her 
 father was one of these, and his love for his profession an- 
 other. He could not yet quite make up his mind to retire 
 from its active duties, as he probably would have to do if he 
 married the mistress of the Works. But he had almost 
 brought himself to view this step with complacency, if not 
 with satisfaction, and he had determined that in the course 
 of a month at the farthest he would request her to become 
 Mrs. Arndell. As regarded Benham, he had not the sligh test 
 idea that there was anything to fear from that quarter. Ben- 
 ham, he had said to himself many times, was not a marry- 
 ing man. Besides, he was so confident of his own powers to 
 fascinate any woman to whom he should pay attention, 
 with the view of matrimony, that he would have felt very lit- 
 tle apprehension even if he had known that Benham was
 
 ON THE SCSQUEHAXXA. 297 
 
 also in the lists as a suitor for Alana's hand. He had at times 
 a little fear of Mr. TreTor. Clergymen, he admitted, had 
 great advantages, so far as subduing the average woman's 
 heart is concerned, over men in general. He had never 
 been called to see Alana professionally, whereas Mr. Trevor 
 had not onlv ministered to her on Sundays, and often on 
 week-days, at his church, hut had also repeatedly called at 
 her house to offer her such consolation and strength as re- 
 ligion affords. 
 
 Still, for all that, Dr. Arndell had had opportunities 
 for becoming intimately acquainted with Alana far superior 
 to those afforded by ordinary social intercourse. Mr. 
 Honeywood's illness had been of long duration, and during 
 its continuance he had been thrown into very close and 
 even confidential relations with her. She had thus learned 
 to respect and like him for his ability, and for his kindness 
 to her and her father. And the doctor, on his part, was 
 quite sure that he had placed himself deep in her affec- 
 tions. Moreover, there had been repeated occasions like 
 that of Mrs. Todd, in which he and Alana had met at the 
 bedside of suffering humanity, and which had still further 
 served the purpose of causing them to like each other. He 
 had, therefore, entertained far less fear of Mr. Trevor m ft 
 possible rival in Alana's affections than would otherwise 
 have been the case. He was quite sure that the clergyman 
 was madly in love with her, but he had after much observa- 
 tion convinced himself that her heart was untouched. 
 Like the generality of people, his judgment was better 
 when brought to bear on others than when it concerned 
 himself and his interests. 
 
 It did not take him long, notwithstanding the astonish- 
 ment that Benhanvs communication gave him, to decide 
 how to act in the emergency that had come upon him. 
 He was ready to give his aid to the utmost of his ability, 
 and to act in accordance with Benham's suggestions. It
 
 298 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 was not often that he was disposed to follow the leadership 
 of another, but in this case his friend's interests were BO 
 much greater than his own, that he yielded to him the 
 direction of the details of the undertaking upon which 
 they were about to enter. 
 
 " Of course you can stay here," he said, " and no one 
 will be any the wiser. You can cook your own meals, or 
 they can be sent from the tavern. The latter will be per- 
 fectly safe, for I shall cause it to be understood that I have 
 a sick friend staying with me for medical treatment, and 
 no one will suspect who he^ is. I don't know that I ever 
 told you, Benham, but I am very much attached to Miss 
 Honeywood, and I am going to ask her to marry me. Of 
 course, therefore, I have an immense interest in trying to 
 get the upper hand of these scoundrels." 
 
 Benham reflected for a moment over these last words of 
 his friend. What was he to do ? He had not, he con- 
 ceived, any right to speak to a third party of his relations 
 to Alana without her consent. The engagement had not 
 been announced, and could not properly be by him till she 
 gave the word. And yet, unless he told the doctor how he 
 was situated in regard to her, he would feel as though he 
 were entrapping a man under false colors into a scheme 
 different from that that it appeared to be. He knew per- 
 fectly well that Alana would not marry Dr. Arndell. Was 
 it not his duty to say so ? If he placed the matter frankly 
 before his friend, there might be immediate disappoint- 
 ment, but it could not be said hereafter that there had 
 been any false pretenses, or that he had acted in a disin- 
 genuous manner by allowing a self-deception that a word 
 from him would have prevented. The alternatives made 
 an embarrassing situation from which there was no escape. 
 Dr. Arndell had stated that the strongest inducement that 
 he had for assisting to defeat the machinations of Kackett 
 and his gang was his attachment to Alana, and his inteu-
 
 ON THE SrSQCEHAV> A, -'>? 
 
 iion of asking her to many him. He (Benham) knew that 
 there was not the remotest prospect that such a marriage 
 coald take place. He knew that Alana had not the faint- 
 est spark of affection for Dr. ArndeR He knew that she 
 loved kirn, and that she would be kis wife ere many days 
 had passed. Well, at any rate, so much of the truth as 
 was necessary to undeceive his friend must be told him, 
 and then he should decide anew whether or not he would 
 assist in bringing the robbers to grief. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "you and all of us have an interest in 
 defeating them, independently of any affection we may 
 entertain for Miss Honeywood. No one who knows her 
 can help loTing her, I suppose," 
 
 * Oh, yes, but I lore her very differently. I shall ask 
 her to he my wife, and I hare every hope that she will not 
 
 my friend, she wffl refuse, 
 
 "You don't know her as well as I do. I know her 
 inner life. I have been with her when her heart has been 
 moved. I have condoled with her, have wept with her, 
 and the man who has looked into a woman's heart as I 
 have looked into hers, has gone far toward sounding still 
 greater depths." 
 
 "I don't believe such things go for much when one of 
 the parties is a woman whose father has just died, and the 
 other is the family physician. 
 
 " My dear fellow, you don't know what you are talking 
 about ! I suppose that a physician, if of suitable age, and 
 unobjectionable in other respects, can marry, if he chooses, 
 any woman that comes under his professional charge. Miss 
 Honeywood has never, however, been my patient. If she 
 had ever occupied that relation to me, I should not think 
 of marrying her. It's a low thing for a physician to do 
 fan in lore with a patient But there are bonds of sym- 
 pathy between Miss Honeywood and me that can readily be
 
 300 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 changed into bonds of love. On my part they are so 
 changed already, and on hers they will readily strengthen 
 when I speak to her of the affection I have for her." 
 
 "What an egregious ass the man is!" thought Ben- 
 ham; "consideration for his feelings would be wasted. 
 Ho never appeared to me before in such a ridiculous light. 
 I am almost sorry I came to him." 
 
 "I suppose," he said, aloud, "that if you were to hear 
 that Miss Honeywood is engaged to be married to another 
 man, you would be very much disappointed." 
 
 For an instant the doctor looked at his questioner as 
 though in doubt whether to be serious or amused. There 
 was something about Benham's way of putting the ques- 
 tion that disturbed him, and yet the idea impliedly con- 
 veyed seemed to him so utterly preposterous that he could 
 scarcely restrain a smile. It did not take him long to re- 
 cover his equanimity. His vanity was proof against such 
 an assault as this. He curled his mustache, which was 
 long and silken, while he answered : 
 
 " There is only one man that I have at times been ap- 
 prehensive might pass me in the race, and that is Mr. 
 Wade. Like you, however, he is not a marrying man. 
 Both of you will die old bachelors. But he has had excel- 
 lent chances. As executor of her father's will, and her 
 lawyer, he has, of course, been thrown into very intimate 
 association with her. I am satisfied, however, that al- 
 though he may be a little touched, she does not care for 
 him." 
 
 Was it not time to bring the man to his senses ? Ben- 
 ham thought it was. At any rate, he would spare Alana 
 the annoyance of a declaration of love from a fellow whoso 
 self-assurance and inordinate vanity would probably pre- 
 vent his taking "No " for an answer. 
 
 And yet, notwithstanding this one disagreeable feature 
 in his character one that Benham had never before ob-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 301 
 
 served to be manifested to the like extent as on this 
 night Dr. Arndell was a man whom most people liked, 
 for he possessed many sterling qualities that more than 
 compensated for the single weakness. It was proper, 
 therefore, that he should be dealt with gently, and be un- 
 deceived to just the extent necessary to free Benham from 
 all suspicion of double-dealing, and at the same time show 
 him that there was nothing more hopeless than the passion 
 he might feel for Alana. To accomplish this last end 
 would be a difficult piece of work, for, like other men in 
 whom vanity is the predominating factor of their lives, he 
 would not be likely to credit any assertion that tended to 
 wound his self-love. However, that, after all, was a mat- 
 ter with which Benham need not greatly concern himself. 
 He would do his duty when he told the truth. 
 
 "I don't think you need be afraid of Mr. Wade," he 
 said, quietly. "My dear fellow," he continued, more 
 earnestly, " I feel uncomfortable to hear you talk so confi- 
 dently of winning Miss Honeywood's hand, when I know 
 that there is not the remotest chance of your doing any- 
 thing of the kind. Miss Honeywood is already engaged to 
 be married." 
 
 "Impossible ! There is no one here but yon, the par- 
 son, and Mr. Wade, and I have already shown that any one 
 of you three is out of the question. I don't think she 
 knows a man in Harrisburg that she would be willing to 
 marry. ; ' 
 
 '' She is engaged to be married." 
 
 '' You know that to be a fact ?" 
 
 " Yes, I know it to be so, and I will tell you more, of 
 course with the understanding that the information goes 
 no further, at present until, in fact, she chooses to speak 
 of the matter." 
 
 "Very well,'* said the doctor, rather lugubriously, at 
 the same time eying Benham rather sharply. "I shall
 
 302 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 say nothing about it, but I think I can decide who is the 
 favored man.'' 
 
 " Yes, I am sure you can, and therefore it will not be 
 necessary for me to say anything further on the subject." 
 
 For a few minutes there was complete silence. The 
 doctor got ready a chafing-dish, and a great bowl full of 
 raw oysters, and busied himself in making, with milk, but- 
 ter, pepper, salt, and cracker-dust, a compound which, 
 having brought almost to a boil in his dish, he proceeded 
 to amplify by the addition to it of the juice of the oysters. 
 Then, when the mixture was again near the boiling-point, 
 he put in the oysters, and then, placing on the cover, al- 
 lowed the contents to look after themselves, while he got 
 a couple of big goblets, and opened a like number of bottles 
 of his favorite ale. 
 
 During the entire course of his procedures neither of 
 the two friends had spoken a word. The doctor's whole 
 attention was apparently engaged with his cooking opera- 
 tions, and Benham was smoking a cigar, and watching the 
 rings of smoke that he formed with great artistic skill, as 
 they whirled round on their own axes and rose gracefully 
 to the ceiling. 
 
 " Come," at last said the doctor, " you must be awfully 
 hungry after your long drive. Sit up here, at the table, 
 and give me your opinion of my culinary powers. As to 
 this ale, if you don't like it, I shall think your gustatory 
 sense has become paralyzed. Now," he continued, as Ben- 
 ham drew up at the table, " there's no time to be lost in 
 dealing with these scoundrels up the valley. It's my opin- 
 ion that we should make a reconnaissance this very night. 
 What do you say ? " 
 
 "What do I say ? I say that you are one of the best 
 fellows and truest men that ever lived ! " exclaimed Ben- 
 ham, rising and grasping the doctor's hand. 
 
 They looked each other in the face for a moment. It
 
 OX THE SCSQCEHA3TS A. 3 
 
 was evident that now there was 11 
 ;:.- 1 .-r. 
 
 "That may be,* replied ArodeH, "but I wffl add 'and 
 one of the damnedest fools:' Xowatdown. Thisstewis 
 perfection, if I can judge by the look of it and by the 
 odor, and, when we have refreshed the inner man suffi- 
 aentiy, werH go out on our little tramp, unless you hare 
 
 Evidently the doctor had not been so deeply in love as 
 he thought, Webe he had got out of it very effectually : 
 was managing to conceal in a thorough mmnpr 
 or disappointment he might feel Ben ham 
 to think that aD three of these conditions ei- 
 At any rate, his friend had not apparently been 
 wounded by the announcement that had been 
 e to him. He had undoubtedly been profoundly aston- 
 U in fact !: stunned, by the reception of inf onna- 
 that was so totally at rariance with his preconceived 
 L He had not spoken, because he could not speak ; 
 of his accumulated nervous force by 
 the preparation of the supper. Under 
 t a man wfll take a run around the block, 
 a semi-hysterical woman wffl twitch her fingers, or beat a 
 tattoo on the floor with her heels. In each instance the 
 balance is restored, and an explosion is prevented. 
 
 "I hare a barrel of oysters sent to me from Baltimore 
 every week," said the doctor, after Benham had begun to 
 eat of the stew, and had pronounced it the best be had ever 
 : Fm writing a paper on 'Brain-Work in its Bela- 
 to Food/ and so far, it appears to me from my experi- 
 better thoughts are produced from 
 from any other article of diet. I eat two hun- 
 dred and fifty a day, and take nothing else, except three
 
 304: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 rank materialism as that announced by the doctor, though 
 for all he knew it might be entirely correct. "I am glad 
 you are in such fine condition for elaborating a plan of 
 operations for to-night. Now, suppose you enlighten me 
 as to how we ought to proceed against the enemy ? " 
 
 "I would do nothing to-night," answered the doctor, 
 evidently much pleased with the confidence that Benham 
 appeared to place in him, "but to go up there very quietly, 
 and find out exactly how the land lies, and get some idea 
 of the number of rascals we shall have to fight. Of course, 
 whenever we make our onslaught, we should have enough 
 force to crush out all resistance. This is not to be a con- 
 test for glory. We don't want to get hurt, and we do want 
 to kill or capture the whole crew." 
 
 "We had better act under the authority of the law," 
 said Beuham. " I shall go to-morrow and make a deposi- 
 tion before Squire McElroy, and get him to send Spriggs 
 the constable with me, and to appoint our whole party 
 special constables. In this way we shall be sure to be right. 
 Otherwise we shall be, I am inclined to think, a band of 
 marauders." 
 
 'Does Miss Honeywood know anything of this ?" 
 
 'Nothing." 
 
 'Does she know that you are here ?" 
 No ; she supposes me to be in Philadelphia." 
 
 ' Are you going to tell her anything about it ? " 
 
 : No. I do not wish to cause her anxiety." 
 She's a brave woman. She does not know what fear 
 is. I have seen her with small-pox and scarlet fever, and 
 typhoid fever, yes, and typhus all around her, and she mov- 
 ing as calmly about the room as though she were at a ball 
 or a Sunday-school. My God, what a woman she is ! I 
 wonder if you know her as well as I do, if you have watched 
 her windows all night only to feel that you were looking at 
 the place where she was sleeping ; if you have dreamed of
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 305 
 
 her night after night, and then, unable to sleep, have got 
 tip in the dead of winter and walked all oyer the mountain 
 till daylight came, and all because you found she did not 
 love you ! I have done all this, and yet she does not know 
 it ; and while I, like a fool, rested in fancied security, you 
 have stepped in and, without an effort, have carried her 
 away from me forever. My God, it is hard ! " 
 
 It had come at last. He had kept back the torrent of 
 his passion till, in an unguarded moment, he had men- 
 tioned her name, and then recollections had been evoked 
 that had broken through all the barriers he had raised, and 
 let loose a flood of emotion that carried everything be- 
 fore it. 
 
 Benham was astounded. Ik was a revelation to him, 
 and one for which he was altogether unprepared. What 
 was he to do ? He could not speak of his love and devo- 
 tion, as Arndell had done. His whole soul revolted at the 
 idea. He could not cite feeling for feeling, and act for 
 act, in a contest to determine who loved her the most. He 
 could not speak of his wakeful nights, his hopes, his fears, 
 his battles with himself, and of his final victory. To do so 
 would be a sacrilege that, rather than commit, he would 
 tear the tongue out of his mouth ! 
 
 He was sorry for the man that had loved and lost, and 
 he respected the honest passion that showed itself in every 
 word and action, and that had so grandly assumed the 
 mastery. The man that could feel as Arndell evidently felt, 
 could not be deliberately false. He was worth keeping as a 
 friend at almost any cost, and Benham determined to keep 
 him if possible. 
 
 '' Ah ! my friend," he said, " I know now that you suf- 
 fer. I can say nothing to comfort you. Your own manly 
 nature will bring you the solace that you need." He arose 
 from his chair and held out his hand to Arndell. " Good- 
 night," he continued. " I "
 
 306 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Sit down, Beuham," said Arndell, taking the hand 
 that was offered him and clasping it warmly ; "I will take 
 your hand, but not to bid you good-night. Forgive me, 
 forget all that I said just now in a moment of insanity. 
 You are the best friend I have in the world, and I don't 
 mean to give you up. We have work to do for her, and it 
 is kind in you to let me have a share in it. Of course, she 
 never cared for me, or she would not have consented to 
 marry you. That's common sense. You are not the man 
 to be satisfied with a half-love, and she is not the woman 
 to give you anything less than her whole heart and soul. 
 If she had loved me, I could have made her happy ; but 
 she did not, and now you will make her happy. I think 
 I must be of a very badly balanced mind, and certainly a 
 very unobservant one. I shall continue to love her all my 
 life, but I shall love her loyally and honestly, and none the 
 less for her being your wife. That's all. Don't say any- 
 thing more, please, but put.on your hat and overcoat, and 
 let us go on our tramp up the valley."
 
 CHAPTER TXTT. 
 
 IT was nearly twelve o'clock when the two friends left 
 the doctor's house on their tour of observation. The dis- 
 tance that they had to traverse wag about six miles, and it 
 would probably take them something over two hours to 
 accomplish it. The night was a dark one, thick clouds 
 obscuring the sky, and taken in conjunction with the north- 
 east wind that was blowing, and the coldness and dampness 
 of the atmosphere, betokening a snow-storm. They had 
 passed by the forge and all the outlying buildings, without 
 either Benham or ArndeH venturing to speak. Each 
 seemed to be fearful that, if a word were spoken, it might 
 lead to the introduction of a topic that each deemed it safer 
 to avoid. The road ran along the northern base of the 
 mountain, past the little hamlet called Matamoras and the 
 somewhat large one known as Enterline, and generally fol- 
 lowing the line of Powell's Creek. They had not met a 
 single person, and all the houses that they passed were dark. 
 Occasionally, a dog barked as they went by a farm-house, 
 or a country store, but the noise did not suffice to disturb 
 the sleepers in the dwellings. They could not have been 
 more alone if they had been walking on the great Western 
 prairie, instead of through the center of one of the most 
 populous counties in the State of Pennsylvania. 
 
 At length they arrived at the little stream that emptied 
 into Powell's Creek, and that is known as the South Fork. 
 They crossed it easily, by stepping from stone to stone, for 
 there was but little water in it ; and then they found them-
 
 308 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 selves in the triangular piece of ground between the two 
 creeks, and in face of the hill, upon which, according to 
 Todd, Kackett and his gang had their habitation. Here 
 they stood for a moment or two, each endeavoring to deter- 
 mine in his own mind the course of procedure, and thus, 
 if possible, to avoid any lengthened discussion of the plan 
 of operations. 
 
 But they were not allowed much time for reflection, for, 
 while they were cogitating on the matter before them, they 
 heard the sound of voices, coming apparently from their 
 right, as though of persons descending the mountain. 
 There was no road at this point, but there was a foot-path 
 that had been made by a family, that had several years pre- 
 viously inhabited a house, that stood on a plateau half-way 
 up the mountain,, and which they used when they had occa- 
 sion to descend into the valley. The house had been 
 allowed to go to ruin after the people had moved away. In 
 fact, it was never anything more than the flimsiest kind of 
 a structure, and the elements had played sad havoc with it 
 from its foundation to its roof. 
 
 From this house, south, over the mountain, there was 
 a good wagon-road leading into the valley between Peter's 
 and the Third Mountains, and therefore constituting the 
 main thoroughfare by which the dwellers kept up their 
 communications with the world at large. Benham, who 
 was well acquainted with the building and its surround- 
 ings, at once came to the conclusion that it was probably 
 used by Kackett and his band as a stable for their horses, 
 and this opinion was confirmed by the remarks that were 
 made by the people who were approaching, and that also 
 served to reveal their identity as members of the gang. 
 He and his friend had barely time to step aside behind a 
 large bowlder, before the parties were near enough for their 
 conversation to be distinguished. 
 
 " I thought the gray horse went a little lame coming
 
 ;:- r;:i 
 
 * recognised Jol 
 "Yes, 1 * was the answer, "he 
 1 the road's so derifeh atony that I suppose it 
 
 "Well, be sore and hare him shod the first thing in 
 the morning, for to-morrow night there will be some hard 
 for him and the other horse, as weH as for us, -" 
 f AH right, captain ; and, while Fm at it, I guess Fd 
 hare the harness looked to. It's likely to be 
 
 r we may bans to travel pretty fast" 
 "Yes, only be careful not to excite" suspicion. What 
 do the people around here take us for?" 
 
 "Why, they don't think much about as, I guess. You 
 know there's only four of us, including you and BelL and 
 JOB only came to-day. Before that there was only Jinks 
 and me, and we passed for a couple of hunters from Balti- 
 more, come up to dioot partridges and wild turkeys. We 
 didn't hare any trouble in getting aU the people about on 
 our side, for we pud 'em weH for ereiything, and hired 
 this place, and the house up the mountain, for twice as 
 much as they're worth. They're an awful stupid lot, these 
 
 "Yes, they brent sense enough to come in when it 
 rains. If they had, they'd hare bounced OB long ago. I 
 shouldn't be anprised if Jinks m nmd asleep." 
 
 " Hrt prettv tired, for jam ft he n up all last night, 
 and that pain in his face kept him from deeping to-day. 
 Bnt he said Daris, For, and McCaffrey were craning up to- 
 night todhride the swagtheygotatLinglestown. That 
 was a pretty good haul, captain." 
 
 Bytkisiimettetlireemenhadpasgedtbebowlder.be- 
 hind which Benham and Arndell were hid, and had ae- 
 ended so far up the hffl that their
 
 310 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 some information that astonished him, the chief of which 
 was the statement, made by one of the gang, that men 
 named Davis, Fox, and McCaffrey belonged to their organ- 
 ization, for these were three of his best workmen. 
 
 From what had been said, the two friends were led to 
 the conclusion that there were four men that lived in the 
 house on the hill, two of them being Rackett and the one 
 who, with him, had just gone np the hill, and the other 
 two being the one named Jinks, and the jail-keeper who 
 had assisted Eackett to escape. Besides these four were 
 the three forge-men, making seven in all as the probable 
 number that would constitute the attacking party on the 
 "Works, if they got the opportunity of making their con- 
 templated foray. Evidently, from the remarks made in 
 regard to the horses, it was intended to make the attempt 
 on the following night. 
 
 They might have returned home, content with the 
 knowledge that had been so easily obtained, but Benham 
 was of the opinion that the men from the forge Avere in the 
 house on the hill, and that not only was it desirable to set- 
 tle the question of their identity, but that still more valu- 
 able information would be obtained were they to ascend 
 the hill, and, if possible, get a peep into the interior of the 
 building occupied by the marauders. Arndell was at first 
 disposed to think that the result would not be worth the 
 risk. "We have no arms," he said, "and those fellows 
 are walking arsenals. I am ready to fight them if there is 
 anything to be gained by doing so, but then I want some- 
 thing to fight with." 
 
 "Yes, we ought to have brought pistols with us ; but, 
 although we are unarmed, there is so much to be gained 
 by seeing something of those fellows in their den, by hear- 
 ing something more of their talk, that I think we should 
 make the attempt to observe them a little more closely. If 
 we can get a good sight of their faces, we shall be able to
 
 OX THE SCSQCEHAXXA- 
 
 311 
 
 "Go rand the kffl ad aad ft from die 
 be othen of the purer oviwhowfll 
 
 *9lgrttirirf.,aMdwho 
 
 ......... _ . - . ,.. . - . -.-,-- 
 
 if we were on it. 
 br 
 
 v,:i^. :.: :_, -_ rl: - f-v. -:-,-;- : ' 1; 
 ; d, header they womld he TOJ earefri not ID 
 
 Toy wen, I am with JOB, I think 
 
 path that led p .to the top, they cfffl
 
 312 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 the alarm, and put a stop to further investigation. All, 
 however, went well, and in a few minutes they found 
 themselves on a narrow platform, with the log hut not ten 
 feet distant from where they stood. 
 
 The door was on the opposite side, but on that facing 
 them were two windows in each of which a pane of glass 
 had been broken, and the opening closed with some old rags 
 stuffed into it loosely. Through these windows the light 
 from a large fire, and from several candles, came out, as 
 did also the subdued sound of voices. Making a sign to 
 Arndell to approach one of the windows, Benhani went to 
 the other, and standing back a short distance so that his 
 face could not be seen by the inmates of the room, he 
 looked in. 
 
 Yes, there were seven men, and to his great regret, for 
 the fact caused a shock to his confidence in human nature, 
 three of them were workmen from the forge. He know 
 them well. They were as good artisans as he had under 
 him, and, if he had been making up a party with which to 
 attack the robbers, he would probably have selected these 
 three to be of the number Davis, Fox, and McCaffrey, 
 married men, men with children, who had a good stake in 
 society, and who had over and over again been the recipi- 
 ents of Alana's bountiful kindness. The doctor had also 
 recognized them. He did not speak, but Benham saw him 
 shake his fist at the men, and could see the flash of anger on 
 his face. 
 
 The three forge-men sat together in front of the fire, 
 smoking their clay pipes, and watching attentively the 
 four others who were seated around a rough table playing 
 cards. One of the four was Eackett ; the others, Benham 
 took it for granted, were Jinks, Bell, the late keeper, and 
 the man who had just returned with Rackett. On the 
 table were various articles of silver-ware, such as forks, 
 spoons, knives, napkin-rings, and cups of different kinds,
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 313 
 
 for which the men were gambling. A candle stood at each 
 corner, and in the middle a big jug, from which they drank 
 in rotation, and which was passed to the three forge-men 
 who sat by the fire. 
 
 So far the conversation, which each of the observers 
 could hear with distinctness, related to the game that was 
 being played. Apparently Rackett had been most success- 
 ful, for the largest pile of silver lay at his place, and he 
 seemed to be in a better humor than the others. At last 
 they all threw down their cards, and Eackett gathered all 
 the remaining articles into a heap, and .added them to 
 the already large pile at his side. 
 
 "Ebw, boys," he said, "to-morrow night you'll have a 
 chance to win all this back, and I'm pretty sure you'll do 
 it. I ought to have some reward for my sufferings during 
 the last few days. Look at these hands ! " holding them 
 out as he spoke, and exhibiting the abraded knuckles to 
 his sympathizing friends. " If I only had the fellow here 
 that did that, I'd take the skin off of his whole body ! You 
 know him, Jinks, don't you ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " answered the man addressed, rising as he 
 spoke, and showing himself to be a remarkably tall person, 
 probably, thought Benham, the one who had led the band 
 that had robbed Mrs. Schwenkfelder " oh, yes, I know 
 him by sight" 
 
 " Well, don't forget that I want to catch him alive ! I 
 want to pay him up for these knuckles. Besides, if we 
 follow the plan I've thought of, we'll not only catch him, 
 but we'll get him out of the way ; and he's more to be 
 feared than any one else at the Works." 
 
 " That he is ! " exclaimed one of the forge-men, Davis. 
 " I seen him once knock a man down for striking at him, 
 and the cove never got up on his feet for over an hour." 
 
 " Very well, well take care that he doesn't knock any 
 one of us down. Now, men," he continued, "this is the
 
 314 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 last time we'll all be together till we meet to-morrow night 
 to strike our blow. So listen to what I've got to say. You 
 Davis, Fox, and McCaffrey will remain at work at the 
 forge till the clock strikes twelve. You will then go to 
 Benham's house ; two of you remaining hid behind the 
 bushes to the left of the path that leads to the door, while 
 the other knocks and tells Benham that he is wanted at 
 the forge." 
 
 " I'll go to the door," interrupted McCaffrey. " I'll 
 tell him that the blast-pipe has fallen down. That'll fetch 
 him out mighty quick ! " 
 
 "Very well," said Backett, approvingly j " that will do 
 first rate. Then, while he's going to the furnace with you, 
 Davis and Fox will jump on him from behind, and each will 
 give him a whack on the head hard enough to knock him 
 senseless. Leave him there, and he will be properly taken 
 care of by Bell, who will pitch him into a wagon that will 
 be ready and drive off like the devil. Then you will go to 
 the office and serve the watchman there in a like manner. 
 You will be joined there by Jinks, Hopkins, and me, and 
 you will then receive further orders." 
 
 "All right, captain!" said Davis. "You'll find us 
 true blue. Will you want any tools ? You know we work 
 in the blacksmith's shop, and if you want anything in our 
 line we can fetch it along." 
 
 Rackett looked contemptuously at the man. " Tools ! " 
 he exclaimed, at last, "as if such clumsy things as you 
 work with would be of any use in opening a burglar-proof 
 safe ! No, I've got my own tools, and, what's more, I know 
 how to use them, too, and so do Jinks and Hopkins. 
 And" 
 
 He stopped and appeared to be listening, while a look 
 of apprehension passed over his face. "Boys," he said, in 
 a voice too low for either Benham or Arndell to hear 
 " there's somebody outside watching us. Don't let on that
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANXA. 315 
 
 I've said so, but keep up the talk. When I lay my hand 
 on the table, do you, Jinks, say in a loud voice, ' The fire's 
 going out.' Then 111 say, * Fll go for an armful of wood.' 
 Leave the rest to me, but, if you hear me call, rush out as 
 fast as the devil will let you and seize the spy ! " 
 
 "Yes," he continued, in a loud tone, "I think we've 
 got things laid for a very successful job to-morrow night. 
 Then we'll be off to the Alleghanies. There's lot of good 
 picking about Cresson and Altoona, and well leave a light 
 behind us that will show us the way ! 
 
 " There are two of them," he went on, in a voice not 
 much above a whisper, while at a motion from him that no 
 one not in his confidence would have perceived, Jinks went 
 on talking in a loud key " one at each window ! I 
 heard them breathing. Our lives depend on prompt ac- 
 tion." As he spoke these words, he laid his hand across 
 the corner of the table nearest to him. 
 
 " Hello ! " exclaimed Jinks, " we've let the fire go 
 out," rising at the same time as though to go out for 
 wood. 
 
 "I'll get the wood," said Eackett ; "I want a little 
 fresh air. This room's as fall of smoke as a smoke-house." 
 
 "Keep quiet," whispered Benham to Arndell, as he 
 heard those words, and saw Eackett move toward the door. 
 " The wood-pile is at the front of the house. He's not 
 likely to come round here. There's more of their plot yet 
 to be revealed.** 
 
 But the words were scarcely out of his mouth before, 
 with a yell, a man dashed around the corner of the house, 
 and, throwing his arms around him, held him in a grip 
 that prevented him exerting his strength, while almost at 
 the same moment a half-dozen men were on the spot, and 
 he was seized and held so securely that resistance was out 
 of the question. 
 
 " Run ! " he exclaimed to Arndell, as soon as he per-
 
 316 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 ceived the situation of affairs. " Never mind me ; get off 
 as soon as you can ! " 
 
 Arndell gave one look at the struggling mass of human- 
 ity about Benham. Somehow or other he had been over- 
 looked, every man rushing to the assistance of their leader. 
 He saw that he could do nothing, but it was still possible 
 to thwart their schemes, so he dashed down the hill at the 
 top of his speed, and in a few moments was out of reach. 
 
 " Damnation ! " cried Eackett, " why didn't you seize 
 the other man ? Now everything's spoiled, and we'll have 
 the whole country at our heels in an hour ! " He looked 
 around him as he spoke. ''! thought so," he continued ; 
 " those forge-men have taken themselves off already. We'll 
 probably find them leading our pursuers. That was Todd's 
 work, getting them in. Damn him ! I'm glad I left him 
 in jail." 
 
 " Well, we've got this fellow safe enough, anyhow," said 
 Jinks, with a laugh. 
 
 " What use is he, I'd like to know, when the other one 
 has got off scot-free, and is half-way to the Works by this 
 time, and stopping at every farm-house to give the alarm ? 
 We'll get away at once. You, Hopkins, go up as fast as you 
 can to the stable and hitch in the horses. Wait there till 
 we join you. You, Jinks, put away all the plunder, except 
 the money, in the place we agreed upon ; and you, Bell, if 
 you've tied that eavesdropping rascal tight enough, drag 
 him into the house till I take a look at him." 
 
 Bell, who had wound a rope around Benham's body, 
 while Jinks and Hopkins held him, thereby fastening his 
 arms securely to his sides, seized his prisoner by the legs, 
 and dragged him into the room. 
 
 "By George!" exclaimed Eackett, with a laugh, 
 "that reminds me of the way a fellow served me the other 
 day. Hand me that candle and let us see who he is." 
 
 Benham lay on his back, and Kackett, taking the can-
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAyXA. 317 
 
 die stuck into an empty bottle for a candle-stick that Bell 
 gave him, bent over and held it close to the captive's face. 
 
 He started, as he recognized the man who had made him 
 a prisoner a few days ago. 
 
 "So, my good master !" he exclaimed, "I've got yon, 
 then, have I ? Xow my time's come, and, if I don*t get 
 even with you, may I never have a moment's happiness in 
 this world, or in the world to come ! Here, Bell, gag him 
 so that he can't make a sound. Then you and I will carry 
 him up the hill to the wagon, for I'm going to take him 
 along, to deal with at my convenience. Hurry up, Jinks ! " 
 to that worthy, who had taken up the floor in a corner of 
 the room, and was filling a large hole with silver-ware and 
 other valuables. '"'Cover those things over with a bushel 
 or two of earth before you put down the floor again. We 
 can come for them at any time. Hurry, for God's sake ! .we 
 haven't a moment to lose ! Xow," as BeD, having fastened 
 with a broad leathern strap a thick pad of raw cotton over 
 Benham's mouth, rose to his feet, "catch hold of this gen- 
 tleman's legs. I'll take care of his arms, and we'll walk 
 away with him easily enough. Damn you ! " he continued, 
 shaking his fist in his enemy's face, "I'd drag you all the 
 way up the mountain if I wasn't just now in a hurry. Ill 
 begin with you to-night, though. Oh, you may laugh ! " 
 as a smile passed over Benham's face. " You won't feel 
 much like laughing when I begin on you, I guess. Xow, 
 Jinks, if you're ready, come along ! '* 
 
 He and Bell took hold of Benham, the one by the legs 
 and the other by the shoulders, while Jinks, gathering to- 
 gether a lot of wraps of various kinds, took the lead up the 
 path to the house that they had converted into a stable. 
 The ascent was not very steep, but Benham was not a light 
 weight, and before they reached their destination Kackett 
 was obliged to give up, and to call for Hopkins and Jinks 
 to take a hand. In a few minutes the natural terrace on
 
 318 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 which the stable stood was reached. The wagon was ready, 
 Benham was incontinently pitched into it, where he lay 
 upon the bottom, and then the men entering, with Hopkins 
 as driver, the vehicle, drawn by a pair of stout though 
 perhaps tired horses, was pulled up the mountain as rapidly 
 as the circumstances permitted. Arrived at the summit, 
 the road turned sharply to the east, and the wagon followed 
 it, going, now that the ground was more favorable for rapid 
 traveling, at a greatly increased rate of speed. 
 
 " We shall have to give up all idea of going to Cresson 
 and Altoona now," said Rackett. " What we have to do is 
 to strike for the upper part of the county as fast as possi- 
 ble. There we have friends who will look after us, and 
 there we shall be safe from any pursuit that may be made." 
 
 "I suppose," remarked Jinks, in a whisper, not in- 
 tended for Benham to hear, " that we'd better go to Sykes's 
 on the Big Lick Mountain. We'd never be looked for 
 there." 
 
 "That's what I mean to do," answered Rackett, also in 
 a low voice. " I wonder," he added in a louder tone, " who 
 the other fellow was ? He," jerking his head toward Ben- 
 ham, " wouldn't tell, even if the gag was off of his mouth." 
 
 " We're pretty safe from any rumpus he can raise. Be- 
 fore he gets back to the Works we'll be ten miles on our 
 way, and not far from twenty from where he'll be. And 
 he can't have an idea of the direction we have taken." 
 
 " Oh, we're safe enough now. We're four miners going 
 to Pottsville. As to our friend here, he'll keep silent 
 enough, I guess, till I do something to him that will make 
 him speak. It's damned hard, though, that we've got to 
 give up, for the present at least, the best prospect that 
 we've had for many a day ! " 
 
 " Yes, and to run for our lives like a lot of " 
 
 "Oh, well," exclaimed Rackett, resignedly, "the good 
 dog, if he does not hunt to-day, will hunt to-morrow ; and,
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHA^yA. 319 
 
 though the wolf may lose his teeth, he doesn't change his 
 nature. We'll come to the top some of these days. "' 
 
 " You're a philosopher, captain." 
 
 "So was my father before me. In fact, Jinks, to use a 
 common expression, FTC seen better days. But I've had 
 all the chance I want for studying philosophy, and not out 
 of books, either, though I could once hold my own even 
 there with the best of them. There's a matter now on my 
 mind that 7 s enough to start all the thinking power a man's 
 got. You told me this afternoon that Squibb had come 
 in and reported that that man lying there had gone to 
 Philadelphia. If he went to Philadelphia, how does it 
 happen that he is here now? And how did he know 
 where we were ? Evidently he fooled Squibb somehow or 
 other.'' 
 
 " That's clear enough. Now, how did he find out any- 
 thing about us?" 
 
 " We don't hare to go far to settle that point Either 
 Squibb is a traitor and he's just as likely to be as not, for 
 I've suspected him for some time or Todd has told on us. 
 Neither of them is to be trusted, but I'd rather pin my 
 faith to Todd than to Squibb. The name's enough for me. 
 By George ! Fm so anxious to know who the traitor is, that 
 FTC half a notion to let the man go, if hell tell me who 
 gave him his information." 
 
 '*' I'm clearly in favor of letting him go anyhow. We're 
 sure to find him troublesome, and, as to killing him, you 
 know we never take life unless in the most absolute self- 
 defense." 
 
 " I don't mean to kill him, but Fm going to give him 
 something to remember me by. Look at my hands ! 
 That's his work, damn him I" 
 
 " If you were to throw him out of the wagon, tied and 
 gagged as he is, you'd punish him enough and save us a 
 good deal of trouble. Ifs dangerous having him along.
 
 320 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 He has to be watched all the time, and we want all our 
 attention for ourselves." 
 
 "Well, I'll think about it. As you say, it's dangerous 
 keeping him. We've got to stop at the first blacksmith's 
 and have the gray horse shod, and, if any one was to look 
 into the wagon, it might start the devil after us. Wait till 
 sunrise. There's no danger now, at any rate." 
 
 " He couldn't do us any harm, now, if we should leave 
 him here on the mountain. If you want to revenge your- 
 self on him, tie him to a tree and give him a hundred 
 lashes on his bare back. He'd be sure to remember you 
 for that as long as he lived, and, in my experience, these 
 fellows like him hate of all things to get a blow with a 
 whip." 
 
 "That might do," said Rackett, reflecting. "I must 
 do the best I can. Where the devil can't put his head, he 
 must put his tail."
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 THE one glance that Dr. Arndell gave at the men who 
 had seized Benham, and the words that his friend spoke to 
 him, were sufficient to show him that nothing was to be 
 gained bj remaining a moment longer in a place where his 
 capture would certainly be the next incident, and with it 
 the loss of all hope of* defeating the elaborate plans that 
 had been revealed to him and his companion. He cursed 
 the forgetfulness that had permitted him to come on such 
 an expedition without arms of any description. The next 
 best thing, however, to killing every one of the band, was 
 to get back as soon as possible to the Works, and to organ- 
 ize a party to go in pursuit of the villains. Down the hill 
 he went at the top of his speed, when, finding that there 
 was no pursuit, he went on the remainder of the way not 
 slowly, by any Tneafat, but with more composure than had 
 characterized the first hundred yards of his flight. At 
 first he thought he would alarm the dwellers along the 
 road, but he reflected that they were a torpid-brained set 
 of people, into whose sluggish minds it would take him 
 more time than he had to spare to get an idea of what had 
 happened, and then twice as long for them to determine 
 what to do. 
 
 As he hurried along the road he had ample opportunity 
 to grasp the details of the situation, and to determine what 
 course to take in order to secure the apprehension of the 
 robbers. That they would at once decamp he felt very 
 certain, bat as to what direction they would take he had
 
 322 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 not the slightest idea. Probably they would seek the 
 mountains in the northern part of the county, or the still 
 more rugged regions of Schuylkill County, where there 
 was already a sufficient degree of lawlessness to keep them 
 company. Benham was a prisoner in their hands. That 
 was the first point to be considered, and at once an effort 
 must be made for his release. That they would do him 
 serious injury, if not put him to death, was quite within 
 the range of possibility. Outrages of the kind had before 
 that time been perpetrated by bands of marauders, who, 
 living in the seclusion of the mountains and sustained by 
 many of the miners, had had things pretty much their own 
 way for several years past. 
 
 Then, as he walked rapidly along the road, passing 
 house after house on his way, he began to perceive the 
 difficulties that surrounded him, and the probability that 
 ere he could arrive at the Works, organize a body of 
 pursuers, go back to the house on the South Fork, and 
 take up the trail, the outlaws would be far on their way to 
 some retreat in the mountains that would afford them im- 
 munity from all efforts at discovery. At the same time it 
 was necessary that he should return to the "Works, see the 
 assistant superintendent and Mr. Wade, and advise them 
 of the contemplated attack, which it was possible the band 
 might not have renounced. Had it not been for this obli- 
 gation he would have stopped at a farm-house, procured a 
 horse, and started back for the purpose of discovering the 
 route taken by the robbers. This done, it would not be a 
 difficult matter to head them off before they had arrived at 
 their lair. 
 
 He had gone only about a fourth of the distance to be 
 traversed before he would arrive at the Works, and was be- 
 ginning to feel tired. His walk had been almost a run, 
 and for several years past he had not been accustomed to 
 much physical exercise. Already his exhausted muscles
 
 OX THE SrSQUEHASNA. 323 
 
 were becoming incapable of doing the work to which he 
 was forcing them, and he perceived that he should hare to 
 stop and rest, when he heard the sound of approaching 
 footsteps behind him. He had barely time to turn aside 
 and hide himself behind a bush when three men, going 
 very fast, went by him. They passed so close to him that 
 he could have touched them with his outstretched hand, 
 and he at once recognized them as the three forge-men 
 whom he had seen in the house with Backett and his 
 associates. Here was another source of perplexity. What 
 were they doing there ? The idea struck him that they 
 had been sent back to carry out a part of the plan, the de- 
 tails of which he had heard stated, perhaps even to set 
 fire to Benham's house, out of revenge for what had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 Now, therefore, it appeared still more necessary for 
 him to reach the Works at the earliest possible moment, 
 and, in order to do so, he would be obliged to overcome his 
 prejudices, and appeal to one of the neighboring farmers 
 for assistance. On his right, across the creek, dwelt old 
 Simon Schnetter, who he knew had several good horses, 
 and whom he determined to let so far into his confidence 
 as to induce him to loan or hire him one of the ani- 
 mals. He turned off from the road, and was about cross- 
 ing the creek, when he saw in front of him a horse standing 
 quietly in the pasture. Going forward, he perceived that 
 there was a halter on the animal. Why not take the 
 horse, improvise a bridle, mount him, and hurry on to the 
 Works ? The thought was no sooner^conceived, than he 
 proceeded to put it into execution. The animal allowed 
 itself to be approached, and Arndell, taking the rope that 
 hung from the head-piece of the halter, gave it a twist 
 through the beast's mouth, and then, with a spring, he was 
 on its back. Re-entering the road, he dug his heels into 
 the horse's flanks, and at a break-neck pace hurried on toward
 
 324: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 his destination. So swiftly did his steed carry him, that 
 the four miles he had to go were traversed in less than half 
 an hour. He saw nothing of the three forge-men. Doubt- 
 less at the sound of horse's hoofs behind them, they had, 
 fearing they were being pursued, turned aside from the 
 road till the supposed danger had passed. 
 
 It was now nearly five o'clock, and day was beginning 
 to break. He had, at last, finally decided upon the course 
 to be pursued, and there was no time to lose if he meant 
 to do all in his power to liberate his friend, and capture 
 the robbers. First he went to his own house, -and ordered 
 his man to put him up something to eat and to saddle his best 
 horse. Then, still on the animal that he had appropriated 
 to his own use, and without satisfying the curiosity that 
 Terry's face as well as several covert observations expressed, 
 he rode to Mr. Wade's tower, and, after a series of thunder- 
 ing knocks on the door, caused that gentleman to put his 
 head out of the window and to inquire in no gentle tone 
 what was the matter. 
 
 "I want to see you immediately. It is Dr. Arndell." 
 " In the name of Heaven, what's the matter ? " 
 " There's a good deal the matter. Come down at once, 
 for I have no time to lose." 
 
 Mr. Wade did not stop to consider the order of his com- 
 ing, for, in less time than it has taken to write these lines, 
 he had opened the door. In slippered feet, and with a 
 blanket thrown over his shoulders, he stood there, while 
 Arndell rapidly gave him an account of what had occurred. 
 "Of course," said Mr. Wade, "the first thing for me 
 to do is to at once secure the arrest of the three forge-men. 
 Doubtless they will tell all they know. Then I shall ac- 
 quaint Mr. Coleman, the assistant superintendent, with 
 what you have told me, and we shall be prepared for de- 
 fense, and attack, too, if we are visited by the villains. I 
 had information from Todd yesterday that they might be
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 325 
 
 expected to-night, and I should hare got ready for them 
 to-day. If Benham had only telegraphed me of his inten- 
 tions, a good deal of trouble would have been avoided. " 
 
 " Will you say anything to Miss Honeywood ? " 
 
 " I think not. There are circumstances that render it 
 inexpedient to cause her the alarm that she would experi- 
 ence if the whole truth were told her, and she would never 
 be satisfied with anything less than the whole." 
 
 " You are right I think that for the present, at least, 
 she had better know nothing whatever about the matter. " 
 
 " She thinks Benham is in Philadelphia, on his way to 
 Montreal." 
 
 " Then let her continue to think so. Xow, my friend, 
 I must be off. Explain my absence by saying that I have 
 been called to a distant patient. I shall instruct Terry 
 accordingly. Leave to me the capture or destruction of 
 the villains, and the liberation of Benham. If I require 
 anything in the way of assistance, or if I shall have any 
 news to communicate, I shall telegraph." 
 
 " Poor Benham ! it may go hard with him. That ras- 
 cal Backett owes him a grudge, and he's likely to revenge 
 himself now." 
 
 "Don't speak of it, please. It makes my blood run 
 cold, and I'm not squeamish, to think of what devilish 
 ideas may come into their minds. They will not probably, 
 however, execute any designs they may have formed while 
 they are on the road. They will postpone action till they 
 reach a place of safety. But now I must be off. Leave it 
 all to me. I shall save Benham, I think, and capture or 
 kill the robbers. Good-by ! I feel that everything here 
 is safe now." 
 
 '' Good-by, ArndelL God bless you, and grant you 
 success!" 
 
 The two friends shook hands ; the eyes of both of them 
 moistened with tears that, man-like, they tried to repress,
 
 326 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 and then Arndell rode back to his own house, and Mr. 
 Wade, hastily dressing himself, prepared to perform that 
 part of the programme laid down for him. 
 
 Arndell found his horse ready for him. He told Terry 
 that a case of importance required his immediate attention 
 in a distant part of the county ; directed him to return the 
 horse that had served him so well to its master, and to pay 
 whatever sum might be demanded for the use of the ani- 
 mal; and then, putting two revolvers into his coat-pockets, 
 and seeing that his saddle-bags, containing something to 
 eat and drink, were properly adjusted, he started off on his 
 expedition. 
 
 It was his intention to go back to the house on the 
 South Fork, and follow the men till he had positively as- 
 sured himself of the route they had taken. Then he pro- 
 posed to go around them by shorter roads, that, although 
 not admitting of the passage of a wagon, were, neverthe- 
 less, practicable for a horse. Having got in front of them, 
 he intended to gather together half a dozen courageous 
 men, and then either to attack the robbers openly, or to lie 
 in ambush for them, as the circumstances of the situation 
 might seem to require. He had taken the precaution to 
 take a folding map of Dauphin County with him one 
 on which every road and water-course and mill and dwell- 
 ing-house was indicated so that he would at all times 
 know exactly where he was, and, as he galloped along over 
 the road that he had just traveled, he took this guide from 
 his pocket, and (for it was now broad daylight) began to 
 study the points that appeared to him to be of most impor- 
 tance. 
 
 It did not take him long to reach the foot of the hill 
 upon which stood the house that the robbers had occupied. 
 Dismounting and hitching his house to a sapling, and with 
 a pistol in his hand, he climbed the mount. It was just 
 possible that some one or more of the gang might have
 
 OX THE SOBQjGEKAXXA. :_; 
 
 left behind, so that ft was necessary for him to pro- 
 ceed with caution. His care was, however, as we know, 
 unnecessary. The place was deserted. He did not stop to 
 inspect it, but, returning to where his horse was fastened, 
 
 oa following the path till he arrived at the hut that had 
 been used as a stable. Here he found all the evidences of a 
 Pieces of harness were scattered about* 
 lay in a comer, and a hat, probably one 
 that had been stolen, hung on a pe. There was but the 
 one load Oat they could have taken from this print, and 
 flat led directly up the mountain. ArndeH now mounted 
 ftis horse. Tfce anent was not very steep, and he was ac- 
 cordingiy able to get over the ground with considerable 
 rapidity. At last he arrived at the summit of the ridge, 
 and here some deliberation was necessary. The main road 
 kept straight on to the south, and led to the TaDey below, 
 in which T.i fi l M i. *, situated, or rather, it led to that 
 after three other ranges of 
 
 The other turned suddenly to the left, and led along the 
 
 i ml ii f Fill nil Mill , Hull ii i ill i i 1. i i 
 
 able a right angle with each other. A mistake noV would 
 lead to faflne, for, if he took the wrong: road, Backett and 
 
 I_M MMV.U 1^ -J^- I- .* ti-. i^ m_ _^ _ ,__ _t : _ - 
 
 JUBI gii^g wonja DC nr OUT 01 ms FEBCH DGCVC OG conn r&- 
 trace his war. He went first oxer the one road and then 
 each foot of the way carefully, 
 to ascertain which showed recent 
 of horseshoes and wagon-wheels. He made up his 
 that the road along the ridge was the one the men had 
 taken, for he thought he dkeoTered the indications men- 
 tioned, hot he was not sure, The ground was hard and 
 stony, and neither the hone's shoes nor the wagon-wheels 
 made any TBJ marked impression. Stfll, he thought he 
 detected in amal piaeas fresh marks of both, and his de- 
 osion was made accordingly.
 
 328 Otf THE SUSQUEHANtfA. 
 
 But, lie had not gone more than a mile from the fork 
 of the roads, when he saw something white, like a letter- 
 envelope, lying on the ground. To dismount and to pick 
 it up was the work of an instant. It was the envelope of 
 a letter, and, turning- it pver, he read to his great delight 
 the direction : 
 
 , Esq., 
 Susquehanna Iron- Works, 
 
 Dauphin County, Pa." 
 
 There was no doubt now. He was on the right track. 
 Benham was alive, and probably still unhurt, and had man- 
 aged to throw the paper out of the wagon, Avith the object 
 of its acting as a guide to those who might be in pursuit of 
 his captors. Arndell hurried on, therefore, with renewed 
 hope and vigor. 
 
 He had never once faltered in his idea of where his 
 duty lay. Once or twice the thought had flashed through 
 his mind that, by leaving Benham to his fate, his own suit 
 with Alana might possibly be advanced, but the notion 
 had not been entertained for a single moment. He was an 
 honorable man, his instincts were those of a true-hearted 
 gentleman, but, even with such, the suggestion of a shame- 
 ful act will sometimes rise in the mind, to be at once, of 
 course, buried deep in the limbo of rejected temptations. 
 It is only the weak and dishonorable that nurse these des- 
 picable thoughts. Men like Arndell make short work of 
 them. 
 
 Still they did come, and, now that he knew he was on 
 the track of Eackett and his villainous crew, and that it 
 was probable that he would be the means of restoring his 
 successful rival unharmed to the woman he loved, they 
 rose in his mind more rapidly, and with still greater vivid- 
 ness, than when he was comparatively doubtful of the re- 
 sult.
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 329 
 
 "What more likely," ran the seductive suggestion, 
 " than that Alana, after she had recovered from the shock 
 and grief at Benham's death, as she is sure to do in time, 
 will turn with love and admiration to the man who had the 
 reputation of having risked his life to save that of his 
 friend ? You will have shown your loyalty and courage. 
 You have not spared yourself. She will know all that, and 
 she will feel grateful. A woman's gratitude is the first 
 step toward love. Your studies in comparative psychology 
 have taught you that, and, besides, you feel sure that 
 already she holds you high in her regard. During her 
 father's illness you and she clasped hands often over the 
 bed of a dying man. Your nerves have thrilled at her 
 touch. Have hers, when she has felt your fingers close 
 over her own, been stirred out of their usual calmness ? 
 Probably not, but they would have been moved, doubtless, if 
 you had made any effort to win her love. You have rested 
 supinely, secure in the vain thought that you could win 
 her at any time that you chose to honor her with a declara- 
 tion of your love. Well,'* he exclaimed aloud, " you have 
 been a fool ; now take the consequences of your folly like a 
 man, and act as a loyal gentleman should toward the friend 
 to whom he owes almost everything that he is and has." 
 
 He had not diminished his rate of speed while the short 
 contest referred to was going on in his mind, but, with its 
 termination, he touched his horse lightly with the spurs, 
 and went on still more rapidly. So far as he could judge, 
 the fugitives had nearly three hours the start of him. But 
 he was quite sure that he had been gaining rapidly on them 
 ever since he left the abandoned house. His horse was a 
 splendid animal, that thought nothing of an all-day gallop ; 
 whereas, one of those driven by the men of whom he was 
 in pursuit was lame, and in no event could a wagon travel 
 over the mountain-road as swiftly as could a man on horse- 
 back. Probably the lame animal would give out altogether,
 
 330 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 in -which event Rackett would certainly be in bad straits 
 with a man on his hands, a hostile man at that, whom he 
 would find it difficult to dispose of with safety to himself 
 and his band. 
 
 He looked at his watch as he reached a point of the road 
 where it turned squarely to the north, It was seven o'clock. 
 The morning was a dark and gloomy one, and the wind 
 was still from the northeast. A few flakes of snow were 
 falling, evidently the begining of a snow-storm. He was 
 looking at the ground, watching the big flakes as they fell, 
 when suddenly his eyes rested on something white, that 
 looked like a snow-flake, but was larger than any he had 
 ever seen. He had passed it in his rapid course over the 
 road, but something urged him to go back and to examine 
 it, although the loss of time incident to such an act was an 
 unpleasant feature. Ecturning to the place where the ob- 
 ject lay, he discovered that it was a piece of white paper. 
 Dismounting and picking it up, he saw that it was a piece 
 of the nib of an envelope, and probably also thrown out 
 by Benham. He took from his pocket the envelope he had 
 found near the fork of the roads ; the fragment fitted per- 
 fectly to a place in the nib, from which a piece had been 
 torn. So far, then, all was going well. 
 
 He was now crossing the elevated plateau known as 
 Broad Mountain, at the foot of which lies the village of 
 Lykens, at which place he expected to hear something of 
 the party of which he was in pursuit. So far as he knew, 
 he was unknown to every one of them, but of this he could 
 not be sure, for it was not improbable that they had at vari- 
 ous times visited the Works, under one pretense or another, 
 for the purpose of becoming acquainted with the principal 
 features of the place, and that they were well acquainted 
 with him by sight. It was the custom of such rascals as 
 he had to deal with, to neglect nothing that might be of 
 service to them in their nefarious schemes. It was not
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 331 
 
 likely that they had contemplated robbing him, for the 
 game would not have been worth the candle ; but, in ascer- 
 taining this fact, they had doubtless familiarized themselves 
 with him and his surroundings. It would certainly be a 
 great advantage if he were not known to them, for igno- 
 rance on their part of his personality would enable him to 
 approach them, and perhaps even to travel with them, till 
 such time as he should deem it advisable to spring the 
 mine that he might have prepared. The risk, however, 
 was too great, and so he decided to keep himself out of 
 their sight till he was ready to strike a blow that should 
 rprove overwhelming. 
 
 But, in such matters as the one that he had on hand, 
 it is rarely possible to form a plan of operations, and to ad- 
 here to it without variation. He had already begun to 
 descend the north side of the Broad Mountain, when the 
 snow, that had for half an hour or more been falling thick 
 and fast, began to cover the earth to such an extent as to 
 show the marks of the horse's hoofs and the wagon-wheels 
 of the party in front of him. He knew, from this fact, 
 that he was close upon the fugitives, and, almost as this 
 knowledge came to him, he heard voices on the road before 
 him, coming apparently from no greater distance than a 
 hundred yards. He stopped, in order that he might hear 
 more distinctly. Yes, there were two voices, both of men, 
 who were urging horses to greater speed. He could also 
 hear the rattling of the wagon-wheels over the stony and 
 frozen ground. 
 
 He was now within two miles of Lykens. He was ac- 
 quainted with several people of the village, and especially 
 with the physician, Dr. Green, whom he had attended dur- 
 ing a severe illness a couple of months ago, and upon whom 
 he was certain he could rely, not only for advice, but for 
 material aid. Dr. Green and he had stuck together in sev- 
 eral medical quarrels, and any one who has been in a squab-
 
 332 ON TEE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 ble of the kind knows that it is highly conducive to warm 
 friendships and keen enmities. For nowhere are generosity 
 and illiberality, magnanimity and meanness, probity and 
 misrepresentation more distinctly manifested than in the 
 ranks of that profession whose members are engaged in car- 
 ing for the welfare of human bodies. Dr. Green was a 
 man of courage and reliability. It would be worth a good 
 deal to Arndell to get to Lykens before Eackett and his 
 gang drove into its precincts. It would mean the rescue 
 of his friend, and the capture or death of the robbers. 
 
 "While he was thinking the matter over, he was still 
 keeping his horse moving, but only at a walk, for he found 
 that that pace was sufficient to maintain desirable distance 
 between him and the enemy. He had all along heard the 
 rattling of the wheels, but suddenly this noise ceased, and 
 then no other sounds reached his ears but that of men's 
 voices. A turn in the road prevented his seeing farther 
 than twenty or thirty yards. He dismounted, hitched his 
 horse to a tree, and then, turning into the forest for a short 
 distance, moved cautiously in the direction of the wagon. 
 At times he walked upright, at others he crawled through 
 the thick underbrush, but at last he came upon the road 
 which, at the point at which he struck it, was some ten 
 feet below the plain upon which he stood. Effectually 
 screened by dense bushes, he crept up to the edge of the 
 elevation, and looked down at the group below him. There 
 he saw a wagon with two horses, and four men standing 
 around it, engaged in earnest, yes, angry, conversation. 
 The distance from him to them was not over twenty feet, 
 so that every word they spoke was heard as distinctly as 
 though it had been addressed directly to him. There was 
 no other sound to break the silence of that cold, snowy 
 morning on the northern slope of Broad Mountain.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE first thought that occurred to Arndefl was ex- 
 pressed by the voids that his mind conoeiTed, though his 
 organs of articulation did not speak them : "Where is 
 Jfenham?" There were Backett, Jinks, Hopkins, and 
 Bell, bat his friend was nowhere to be seen. His mental 
 question was not long unanswered, for the first few words 
 of the men's con Yersation sufficed to gire him a clear idea 
 of the situation. 
 
 "There's no use trying to take him along," said one of 
 the fellows, whom he recognized as Jinks. "We're broke 
 down, and it's as much as we can do to look after our- 
 eelres, much less a man who any moment may get us into 
 trouble. 1 ' 
 
 "That's so 1" exclaimed Hopkins, emphatically. "I 
 rote for leaving him. We can barely get to Ly kens, and 
 there we may hare to stop tffl we can get another horse, 
 What would we do, I'd like to know, with a red-hot enemy 
 in the wagon ? Why, any little boy or girl, playing in the 
 street, might find him there." 
 
 "I think we'd better leare him," aid Bell, who ap- 
 peared to ArndeQ to be more terrified than the others, for 
 he was Ehaking, probably with fear, though possibly with 
 cold. I guess the fellow that got away wfll bring the 
 country down on us, and it would go mighty hard with me 
 if I was caught" 
 
 "Pshaw!" exclaimed Backett. "Yon harent done 
 anything yet but help me to get off, and that little job
 
 334: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 last night, and no one knows you were in that. I see, 
 however, that you're all scared, and so, if it will help you 
 to get back your courage, I'm willing to leave the fellow 
 here in the woods. Yes, I'm willing to leave him," hold- 
 ing up his hands and exhibiting the scars that they bore, 
 "but not till I've paid him for these, and, when I get 
 through with him, I don't believe he'll be good for much 
 except to feed those crows sitting on that tree." 
 
 "You don't mean to kill him, do you?" inquired 
 Jinks, anxiously. 
 
 "Yes, I do. I'm bound to pay him for his treatment 
 of me ; and then, dead men tell no tales. He's heard 
 every word we've said while he's been lying in that wagon, 
 and I know him well enough to be sure that if he gets off 
 he'll pursue us to the last day of his life but that he'll 
 catch every one of us." 
 
 "I'm opposed, tooth and nail, to any killing," rejoined 
 Jinks. "We've done nothing yet, at least not since I've 
 been with the party, to cause us to swing, and I don't 
 mean to risk my neck just to give you your revenge. Take 
 him out of the wagon, strip him, tie him to a tree, and give 
 him as many lashes as you like, and then leave him here ; 
 but, as to killing him, I'm dead against it." 
 
 Arndell had listened to this dispute with the most pain- 
 ful anxiety. He saw that he had it in his power to save 
 his friend, and he determined at all hazards to do so. He 
 had in each of the side-pockets of his overcoat a large-sized 
 army revolver that was good to kill a man at a hundred 
 paces. He was a good shot, and he felt sure that he could 
 kill or disable two of the robbers before his presence should 
 bo discovered, if the other two should stay to find out who 
 was their adversary. One man firing from an ambush half 
 a dozen shots quickly, one after the other, always leads to 
 the idea of a larger attacking force than really exists. He 
 took out his pistols, looked at them carefully in order to
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 335 
 
 see that they were iu good condition, and then calmly 
 awaited the development of events. 
 
 "Take him out, anyhow/"' said Hopkins, "and let's 
 see what he looks like. We've all agreed that we've got to 
 leave him, dead or alive. For my part, I'm in favor of 
 ending him here on the spot." 
 
 "Xot on this spot," said Bell, "not on the road. We'd 
 better drive off to one side if we're going to do anything 
 with him." 
 
 "Well," observed Eackett, composedly, "that depends 
 altogether on what you're going to do. If you're only 
 going to give him a flogging, we'd better drive off the 
 road ; but, if we're going to finish him, here's as good a 
 place as any, for there's a ditch that will hold him, and 
 plenty of stones and loose earth to throw over him. Take 
 him out!" 
 
 At this order, Hopkins and Bell got into the wagon, 
 and, letting down the tail-board, shoved Benham out till 
 his feet projected, and then Jinks caught hold, and, by 
 their united strength, the body was laid, not very gently, 
 on the snow-covered ground. 
 
 Arndell could scarcely restrain himself from at once 
 delivering his fire on the miscreants who had so grossly 
 maltreated his friend, for Benham was tied hand and foot, 
 and the gag was still over his mouth. As he lay, motion- 
 less, with the snow falling on him, he looked more dead 
 than alive. His feelings, while the wretches were discuss- 
 ing the question of how further to dispose of him, may 
 possibly be imagined by those of my readers that have been 
 in similar situations, if any such there be and Heaven 
 grant that there is not one ! but they can scarcely be con- 
 ceived by others. 
 
 " Xow," said Rackett, " this matter has got to be set- 
 tled at once, for we've no time to lose. I don't want to do 
 anything against the wish of the majority, and by the vote 
 15
 
 336 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 of the majority I'll bo guided. There's no use in talking 
 about it any longer. We all know how the thing stands, 
 so we'll take a vote at once. What do you say, Jinks, on 
 the question of death to the fellow ? " 
 
 "I say no !" answered the man, firmly. 
 
 "And you, Hopkins ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Now, Bell, it's your turn." 
 
 "Yes," said the man, in a feeble voice. "I guess it's 
 safer to end him. Dead dogs don't bite." 
 
 "That's good sense," continued Eackett. "So the 
 thing's settled without my vote ; but, for form's sake, and 
 as we're all in the one boat, I'll vote 'yes.''' 
 
 " I won't have anything to do with murder," said Jinks, 
 emphatically. "You'll have to count me out." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "I mean that, if you're going to kill that man, I'm 
 going away." 
 
 "You'll desert us?" 
 
 " I don't call it deserting you. I don't mean to leave 
 you for good. When I came into this crowd, it was with 
 the clear understanding that there was to be no killing ex- 
 cept in self-defense. Now, if you've made up your minds 
 to kill that man, you'll have to do it, I suppose, but you'll 
 do it without me." With these words Jinks fumbled 
 about in the wagon for a comforter that belonged to him, 
 and, having found it, he wrapped it about his neck and 
 prepared to leave, by holding out his hand to Eackett to 
 bid him good-by. 
 
 "I can't shake hands with a man that leaves his 
 friends in the lurch," said Eackett, folding his arms 
 across his chest. "Some of these days you'll be sorry 
 for this." 
 
 "'No, I won't be sorry for it, Tony Rackett!" ex- 
 claimed Jinks, for the first time showing any anger ; " and
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 337 
 
 it won't do either for you to threaten me. There's nothing 
 of the traitor about me. It's yon thatrs breaking the agree- 
 ment bj killing that man. As to shaking hands with yon, 
 I guess, as things go, my hand's cleaner than yours in 
 more ways than one. But don't you threaten me, for it 
 isn't safe for yon, and men don't die of threats." 
 
 " Where are you going ?" inquired Backett, not noticing 
 Jinks's remarks. 
 
 "Pm going to Lykens first, and then I'm going to take 
 the railroad to Millersburg. From there IT1 go to Phila- 
 delphia, I guess." 
 
 X "If ya don't go to the house on Powell's Creek, and 
 help yourself to the stuff that's there." said Backett, sneer- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Perhaps I may. There's no one got a better right, 
 for more than three fourths of it came from my work." 
 
 " Well, go. Help yourself. For one, I'm glad to get rid 
 of you." 
 
 "And the neit time we meet, Mr. Tony Backett, you 
 and I'll settle our little affair ! " 
 
 Jinks walked off without saying another word. He 
 turned a bend of the road and was almost at once lost to 
 the sight of his companions, though, from his superior ele- 
 vation, Aradell could see him rapidly making his way down 
 the slope of the mountain. 
 
 " Now that we're rid of Mr. Jinks and bis cowardly no- 
 tions, well settle with our friend," said Backett, as he kicked 
 Benham's prostrate body. "There's only one way to do a 
 thing of this kind so as to show no favoritism. WeTl each 
 give him a shot. Get your pistols ready, boys, and at the 
 word from me fire at his heart I think you'd better act 
 him up against that bank ; then, trhen he falls, hell go into 
 the ditch, and it will be easy work covering him over with 
 stones and earth. We can topple a ton of earth on him 
 from that bank."
 
 338 ON THE SUSQUEIIANNA. 
 
 Arndcll would have fired at this moment, but for the 
 fact that the three men were too widely separated to admit 
 of his getting in three shots before one or more of them 
 would have a chance of shooting Benham. The arrange- 
 ment proposed by Eackett was calculated to do away with 
 this condition. By it Benham would be placed against the 
 opposite bank to that on which he (Arndell) stood, and his 
 would-be executioners, standing with their faces turned 
 toward their victim, would be unaware of what was going 
 on behind them till he had discharged his shots, and, if 
 God gave him full force, they would not know much about 
 the matter afterward. 
 
 "Take off his gag," commanded Kackett. " I want to 
 give him a chance to talk back a little." 
 
 In an instant, Bell had loosed the strap and removed 
 the great wad of cotton that, since leaving the house, had 
 been fastened tightly over Benham's mouth. 
 
 "Now sit him up on that rock, with his back against 
 the bank, and then come here to me." 
 
 This order was also quickly executed, and now, for the 
 first time, Arndell had a good look at his friend's face. 
 The lower part of it was swollen and discolored from the 
 constriction to which it had been subjected, but the eyes 
 were still bright, and his whole expression was that of a 
 man who, though he had made up his mind that his last hour 
 had come, was prepared to die with unflinching courage. 
 Never before had Arndell loved his friend as he loved him 
 at that moment. 
 
 "Mr. John Benham," said Eackett, taking a position 
 some five or six feet in front of his prisoner, "do you see 
 these hands ?" holding out his hands, and touching the 
 knuckles of first one and then the other. 
 
 "Certainly, I see them." 
 
 " It's your work." 
 
 " Yes, it's my work. I gave you the opportunity of
 
 Otf THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 339 
 
 walking, and you would not ; go I dragged you over the 
 ground till you consented to be more obliging." 
 
 ''Yes, that's exactly what you did, and now you're 
 going to get your pay. I'm going to kill you ! You are 
 sitting now on the brink of your grave, and in less than 
 five minutes you'll be lying in it with a ton or more of 
 stones and earth over your dead body ! " 
 
 "Yes, I suppose that is what you intend to do. I 
 heard you discussing it just now." 
 
 "I think this is the happiest moment of my life. 
 There's nothing sweeter than dearly bought revenge. Its 
 sweet to kill you, but I want to add to the joy of this mo- 
 ment, and at the same time heap a few coals of fire on 
 your head, by doing you a favor. Is there any message 
 you'd like to be given to any one ? If there is, you may 
 trust me to give it." 
 
 Benham was silent. He appeared to be thinking. 
 
 " No," he said, at last, " I hare no message to send by 
 you." 
 
 " Think a moment You're in love with Miss Honey- 
 wood. I've seen and heard enough to know that. Don't 
 you want to send her word that you died thinking of her ? " 
 
 "No, God forbid ! Not by your foul lips. She will 
 know what my thoughts are." 
 
 "Then, by God, say a prayer for the safety of your 
 soul, for your hour has come ! Hopkins, stand here on my 
 right. Bell, stand oa my left. Cock your pistols, and 
 when I finish counting three, fire at his heart ! We'll not 
 bandage his eyes. I. for one, am not afraid to look him in 
 the face. Besides, I want to see whether he winks or not 
 when I say ' three.'* " 
 
 The men arranged themselves as Backett directed, and 
 stood with their pistols in their hands ready for the word. 
 At that instant Arndell, who was not more than ten feet 
 distant from the line that they made as they stood ia the
 
 340 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 road, raised his right hand, and, taking deliberate aim at 
 Kackett, fired. Without looking to see the effect of his 
 shot, he aimed again, and this time at Hopkins, and fired. 
 Both men fell instantly, while Bell, panic-stricken, could 
 not move a limb for fear, and, receiving ArndelFs third shot, 
 leaped a foot or more into the air and fell dead. With a 
 bound Arndell was down the bank and over to the opposite 
 side before Benham had recovered from his astonishment 
 at not being shot. He had shut his eyes, and was murmur- 
 ing a prayer, more for Alana than for himself, and had 
 thought that the shots were directed at him by the three 
 robbers, never for an instant dreaming that his three foes 
 were stretched bleeding upon the earth. Without stopping 
 to look at them, Arndell hurried to cut the cords that 
 bound his friend, when the sound of another shot broke 
 upon his ear, and Benham fell over to one side with the 
 blood gushing in torrents from his mouth. Kackett's last 
 earthly act was to fire that shot. 
 
 Dr. Arndell was a good surgeon, and he knew instantly 
 what had happened. Benham had been shot in the right 
 lung. He tore off the clothing from the chest of the 
 wounded man, and discovered that the bullet had not gone 
 through the lung. It was a bad enough wound, but not 
 necessarily a fatal one. At home, and with good nursing, 
 he would have expected recovery to result, especially in a 
 man with such a -good constitution as that possessed by 
 Benham ; but here, in a snow-storm on a mountain, two 
 miles distant from shelter, and without the requisite facili- 
 ties for properly dressing the wound, he felt that the 
 chances were adverse. Nevertheless, he was a man of 
 ready resources in cases of emergency such as the one be- 
 fore him. He lifted the wounded man in his arms and 
 carried him to as level and smooth a piece of the road as 
 he could find. Then he took off the overcoats of the dead 
 robbers and placed them under him, using his own for a
 
 OX THE STSQUEHAyXA. 
 
 covering. Tfomiiiiiig the wound more carefully than he 
 had jet done, he found some small pieces of clothing stick- 
 ing m it, and these he removed. The ball had not broken 
 a xib, but had gone between two at the upper part of the 
 chest, leaving a few small fragments of bone near the sur- 
 face, aiid these he also took away. 
 
 "* had not lost consciousness, but he was very 
 faint He would several times hare spoken, but for the 
 fact that Arndell had told him not to ay a word, for that 
 spnakhig was likely to bring on a renewal of the hemor- 
 rhage, and that meant death. Leaving him for * moment, 
 the doctor harried back to where his horse was hitched, 
 and led the animal forward to where Benham was lying. 
 Then from his saddle-bags he took the cold meat and bread 
 and butter, and, most important of all, a flask containing 
 some old brand j that his man had placed there. He broke 
 the ice over a fittfe pnddfe at the side of the road, and, 
 mixing some of the water with a small portion of brandy, 
 held the silver cop from the bottom of his flask to Ben- 
 ham's lips till he had swallowed the contents 
 
 The doctor knew that his friend had eaten nothing 
 since the night before, and his army experience with gun- 
 
 salts were obtained by keeping up the strength of the 
 by good nursing. He had no facilities for 
 of food that modern 
 wounded, but he could 
 to meet the imrfite inn of the 
 
 ease, while he thought of what it would be best to do with 
 a liew to the future welfare of the wounded man. 
 
 Searching in the wagon, he found that the former occu- 
 pants had kid in a good store of provisions, and, among 
 other things, he discovered a dozen or more eggs. Two of 
 these would be as good food and as much of it as Benham 
 now required. He found that the brandy had acted weD,
 
 342 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 and that there had been no return of the hemorrhage. He 
 gave him the eggs raw, and then, seeing that his patient 
 was comparatively comfortable, he took his own breakfast 
 while he looked around him for the first time, and studied 
 the features of the situation. The marauders were dead. 
 Bell was shot through the heart, and Hopkins right 
 through the center of the chest. Both had died instantly. 
 Rackett had, like Benham, been shot in the lung, but the 
 bullet giving him his wound was twice as large as that in 
 Benham's body, and the result had thus been much more 
 decided. He had held on to his pistol, and had been able, 
 with his last strength, to shoot the man for whom he 
 entertained so great a hatred. Instantly afterward he had 
 fallen back dead. 
 
 Arndell took hold of the dead bodies and laid them in a 
 row by the side of the road. Then he examined the wagon 
 and horses. Of the latter, one was entirely broken down, 
 and would probably be unable to go half a mile farther. 
 He therefore unhitched it and put his own horse in its 
 place. He now had a team that was equal to the work of 
 going to Lykens, where his friend Dr. Green lived, and 
 with whom he did not doubt he could place Benham till 
 he was well enough to admit of his being removed to his 
 own home. Or, upon consideration of the actual state of 
 the wounded man, it might be advisable to place him in a 
 railway-car specially prepared for him, transport him over 
 the Summit Branch Railroad to Millersburg, and thence, 
 without change of car, on the Northern Central to the 
 Susquehanna Iron-Works. That was a matter, however, 
 to be determined by circumstances as they might be de- 
 veloped. 
 
 He was fearful of the consequences of moving Benham 
 from the ground into the wagon, for he knew how greatly 
 absolute rest is conducive to the recovery of a person with 
 a bullet in his lung. There was, however, no escape. The
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHASSA. 343 
 
 mow was falling faster than ever, and the temperature was 
 getting lower. Longer delay might he fatal 
 
 First of all he took the woolen comforters from the 
 necks of the dead robbers, and bound them around Ben- 
 ham's chest so as to make it as immobile as possible. After 
 he got to Lvkens he meant to attend to this point more ef- 
 fectually still 
 
 " Xow, w he said, to his friend, " I'm going to put you 
 into the wagon and drive you over to Lykens. If you 
 stand the journey well, Fll have a car of some kind fitted 
 up for you, and you can go straight on to the Works ; but, 
 if you are much exhausted, I'll take you to Dr. Green's. 
 You know Green, of course ? You mustn't answer. I 
 don't want you to speak a word or to move a muscle more 
 than you can help. Just let your body be perfectly passive, 
 and leave it all to me." 
 
 He had already, with several articles of clothing and a 
 blanket that he had found under the front seat of the 
 wagon, extemporized a bed, and on that he now proceeded 
 to place his friend. It was hard work to do this without 
 more or less exciting the circulation and thus running the 
 risk of renewing the hemorrhage ; but he did finally suc- 
 ceed, and Benham lay as comfortably as was possible on 
 the bed of the wagon, with sufficient soft materials be- 
 tween him and it to lessen the hardness of the roads. 
 
 " I must speak," he said, in a whisper, " if I die the 
 next moment. God bless you ! I shall never forget you. 5 * 
 He held out his hand as he uttered the words, and then 
 closed his eyes, as though from very weakness. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Arndell, greatly moved, grasping the 
 proffered hand. "Any doctor would have done as much.** 
 
 Benham smiled faintly and shook his head. 
 
 "Xow," resumed Arndell, "not another word. You 
 may think as much as you wish, but no talking. Bevenge 
 in cold blood is the devil's own work," he continued, as he
 
 344 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 gave a last look at the bodies of the robbers. "A more 
 diabolical scoundrel than Rackett it has never been my bad 
 luck to encounter. "When you are stronger," turning to 
 Benham as he drove off, "I'll tell you my adventures, but 
 not now." 
 
 Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he drove down the side 
 of the mountain over the road that led to Lykens. Not a 
 soul did he meet till, after an hour and a half had elapsed, 
 he reached the 'first house of the village. This was a 
 tavern. He stopped here, for he thought it best to make 
 an early report of what he had done, in order that the 
 legal authorities might take cognizance of his acts. Enter- 
 ing the bar-room, he called the landlord, a big, burly fellow 
 named Jacob Krause, aside, and, in as few words as pos- 
 sible, gave him the chief points of the affair, very much to 
 that worthy's astonishment. But what was his surprise, 
 on looking around the room, to see, sitting in front of the 
 red-hot stove, Jinks, the very man who had left Eackett and 
 his gang rather than countenance the murder of Benham ! 
 
 Evidently he had not taken notice of ArndelPs arrival, 
 or, if he had, he did not consider it a matter of any impor- 
 tance, not being aware that the doctor was in any way con- 
 nected with Benham. Doubtless, he had heard the shots on 
 the mountain, but had taken it for granted that they were 
 leaden messengers that took the death-sentence to Benham. 
 
 Krause, however, like many of his class, was gossipy, 
 and liked to feel the importance attached in country towns 
 to the possessor of great news. As soon, therefore, as Arn- 
 dell had finished his recital, the innkeeper cried out : 
 
 "Well, boys, Dr. Arndell has done the biggest thing 
 that's been done in Dauphin County since I've known any- 
 thing about it ! He's killed three robbers back here a 
 couple of miles on Broad Mountain, and saved Mr. Ben- 
 ham's life, but not till the devils had put a bullet into his 
 body."
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 345 
 
 Aindell had his eye on Jinks while Krause was speaking. 
 At the first words, the man raised his head and listened ; 
 but, before the innkeeper had finished, he was on his feet 
 and moving rapidly toward the door. 
 
 "Stop !" cried Arndell, springing in front of him and 
 drawing one of his pistols. " Another step, and you're a 
 dead man ! This is one of the robbers," he continued, ad- 
 dressing the half-dozen men who were in the bar-room. 
 " He left them because he was opposed to the killing of 
 Benham. Seize him ! " 
 
 The man made an effort to take a pistol from his pocket, 
 but, before he could accomplish his purpose, several pairs 
 of strong hands had grasped him, and he was soon over- 
 powered and bound. 
 
 Of course, no such exciting incidents having ever be- 
 fore occurred in the borough of Lykens, or in its vicinity, 
 the little village was at once thrown into a state of great agi- 
 tation. Many persons, men and women, gathered around 
 the wagon, so as to get a sight of Benham ; and when the 
 doctor drove off toward his friend's residence, the vehicle 
 was followed by a crowd of people, anxious to get a sight 
 of the sufferer when he should be carried into Dr. Green's 
 house. Others started ahead, to notify the physician of 
 the coming wounded man, and others, again, with the high 
 constable of the borough, Peter Zeigler. as their leader, 
 hurried off on horseback, in wagons, and on foot, to the 
 place on Broad Mountain where lay the dead bodies of the 
 three robbers. It was a great day for Lykens, and the 
 memory of it will endure from generation to generation. 
 
 Arndell had not gone far on his way when he was met 
 by Dr. Green, coming toward him as fast as his not very 
 long legs would carry him. He was a precise little fellow, 
 well up in his profession, and devotedly attached to Arn- 
 dell, and, as often happens in country towns in which the 
 physician is the best-educated man, the most important
 
 346 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 person in the place. He had been several times chief bur- 
 gess of Lykens, and had once been sent to the Legislature. 
 He might have continued to hold either office, or both, 
 had he so chosen. But office- holding interfered with his 
 practice, so he had given it up. 
 
 " What's all this I hear!" he exclaimed, as Arndeil 
 stopped the wagon to speak to him. "Mr. Benham 
 wounded, and in that wagon ! Bring him to my house at 
 once, and keep him there till he gets well. How did it 
 happen ? Where is he shot ? Is it a bad wound ? " 
 
 "I want you to see him," answered Arndeil, " before I 
 decide whether to take him home at once or not. He has 
 a wound in the apex of the right lung. There's been some 
 external hemorrhage, as well as coughing of blood. He's 
 doing pretty well. I'd like to get him home, if possible, 
 because because his mother is there, and all his belong- 
 ings ; but if it should prove to be unadvisable to make the 
 attempt, I shall ask you to let him stay with you till he is 
 well enough to be moved." 
 
 "All I have is at his and your disposal. I think you 
 had better make up your mind to leave him here. He 
 must be very much exhausted. I'll go ahead and open 
 the gate, so that you can drive right into my garden, and 
 then we'll shut out these people, while we examine him." 
 So saying, the little doctor was off again, while Arndeil 
 resumed his slow journey. 
 
 Arrived at the doctor's house, he drove into the garden, 
 as had been arranged. Then the gate was shut, and, get- 
 ting into the wagon, Dr. Green joined his friend in mak- 
 ing an inspection of the patient. 
 
 It was apparent to both of these medical men that Ben- 
 ham was thoroughly worn out. His pulse was feeble and 
 very frequent, his face pale, his hands and feet cold. Fur- 
 ther fatigue was not to be thought of. Besides, taking 
 him home would involve three liftings once into the car,
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANNA. 347 
 
 and oace from it at the Works, to a vehicle of some kind, 
 and again at Benham's home ; whereas, by staying with 
 Dr. Green, only one into his house would bo required. 
 So it was decided that he should remain, and that Arndell, 
 after he had seen that his friend was as well situated as 
 was possible under the circumstances, should return to 
 the Works, and break the news of what had happened to 
 those most interested. It was thought better that this 
 should be done in person than by telegram, as less like- 
 ly to lead to misunderstandings of Benham's actual condi- 
 tion. 
 
 It did not take long, with the aid of a couple of strong 
 men and a hair mattress, to transfer the wounded man 
 from the wagon to the comfortable bedroom that Dr. and 
 Mrs. Green placed at his disposal. The lady was as kind 
 as her husband, and nothing was left undone that could 
 tend to insure the sufferer's welfare. It was Arndell's in- 
 tention to return that night, probably bringing with him 
 Mrs. Benham and Alana, both of whom he was sure would 
 insist upon seeing his friend, and, perhaps, even of staying 
 and nursing him through the worst part of his illness. 
 But before he left, he received notice to attend before 
 Squire Garman, and make the necessary affidavit relative 
 to Jinks. He obeyed the summons, and was then in- 
 formed that an inquest on the bodies of the robbers would 
 probably be held on the following day. Jinks had nothing 
 to say in his defense, and was committed to stand his trial. 
 Arndell felt somewhat kindly disposed toward the man, 
 but he did not forget that he had suggested to Eackett to 
 give Benham a hundred lashes on his bare back, and that 
 his opposition to murder was probably based more on con- 
 siderations for his own safety than on any other motive. It 
 was with satisfaction, therefore, that Arndell saw him going 
 with him on the same train, bound for the jail at Harris- 
 burg, and heavily ironed.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IT was with somewhat mixed feelings that Alana went 
 to her bedroom after the departure of Benham and Mr. 
 Wade, following that of Mrs. L'Estrange in the custody 
 of officer Josephs. She had reason to believe that she was 
 not the illegitimate daughter of her father, but born in 
 lawful wedlock ; but this knowledge was more than offset 
 by the renewed evidence that had been presented relative 
 to the evil courses of her mother. She would rather have 
 had the stain on her birth remain, if she could have re- 
 ceived assurance that her mother had not been the depraved 
 woman that all the signs that had thus far come to her 
 showed her to have been. 
 
 And then, the questions Who was her mother ? Where 
 was she ? Was she alive or dead ? came uppermost in her 
 mind and gave her ample food for thought during the 
 greater part of the night that she lay awake, unable to sleep 
 from the state of excitement into which her nervous sys- 
 tem had been thrown. Who, also, was the woman that 
 had attempted to pass herself off as her mother ? That 
 she was an impostor was very evident ; but who was she, 
 that knew so much about her mother's family, who so 
 strongly resembled Todd who was certainly her uncle, her 
 father had admitted that and who had her mother's mar- 
 riage certificate in her possession ? All these were ques- 
 tions that must be solved before she could be mentally at 
 rest. 
 
 Yet she would have been almost willing to let them go
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXSA. 349 
 
 without farther seeking to unravel their mysteries, if she 
 could have felt quite certain that she had done right in 
 accepting Benham as her lover and future husband. 
 True, he had promised to come back with the proof that 
 the woman calling herself her mother was an impostor ; but 
 what of that ? Was it not quite probable, ay, even certain, 
 that her real mother had been equally bad with this false 
 one ? Had not her own mother been in prison, living 
 under false names, and leading a life of impurity and 
 criminality all her life ? What difference did it make 
 which of them was her mother ? 
 
 The next day, soon after the imfufamt superintendent 
 had made his report, she went to Benham's house to pay a 
 visit to his mother. He had been gone several hours. He 
 had told Mrs. Benham the general purport of his journey, 
 and had also given her the essential points of the visit 
 made by Mrs. I/Estrange to Alana, so that after the ice 
 was broken between the two ladies and it took some little 
 time to do this, for neither was quite sure how far she 
 should venture upon giving and receiving confidence the 
 conversation turned upon the subjects that were uppermost 
 in the heart of each. Mrs. Benham was a sensible woman, 
 one who was more likely than not to take a practical view 
 of any matter submitted to her judgment, and the opin- 
 ions that she expressed relative to the existing condition of 
 affairs were calculated to do away with a good deal of the 
 morbidness, or hypersensitiveness, that Alana was experi- 
 encing. 
 
 " My dear child," she said " I surely may call you so 
 now I do not suppose that I can adduce a single fact or 
 argument beyond those that John has already brought for- 
 ward. He has, you may depend upon it, given it all the 
 thought at his command. He is honest in everything, 
 and though I can not venture to say that in the present in- 
 stance he is disinterested, I am quite sure that he would
 
 350 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 not urge you to do an act that could be considered un- 
 worthy of a good woman. He loves you for yourself. He 
 believes that he can make you happy, and that you will be 
 to him that greatest of all earthly treasures that a man can 
 possess, a good wife. I think that, after what he has said 
 to you, you are bound to dismiss your scruples. It is not at 
 all likely that the world at large will ever know your family 
 history, and, if it should be exposed, what of it ? For a 
 little while it may cause some talk, but mankind is on the 
 whole just in its treatment of its fellows. It will take you 
 for what you are, it will see how true a woman yon are, it 
 will recall the goodness of your father, and the whispers 
 against your mother will soon cease to be uttered, and in a 
 short time will have been forgotten. Take an old woman's 
 advice, my dear, and leave it all to take care of itself. 
 Don't risk your own and John's happiness by looking back 
 at unpleasant things that are not of your making, and 
 which, therefore, do not detract from your goodness." 
 
 "I will try to see the matter as you do," answered 
 Alana. "I feel that you are right, but it would have 
 added much to my happiness, and to his too, I am sure, if 
 I could have come to him with an unsullied name." 
 
 "Ah, my dear, our names are sullied or unsullied as 
 we ourselves make them ! What is a noble ancestry worth 
 if the descendants are unworthy ; and who that is himself 
 good and true bears in mind an ignoble descent against the 
 man or woman whose life has been pure and lovely ? And 
 as to the wicked and the malignant, those despicable creat- 
 ures who are always on the lookout for something to allege 
 against those who are better than they, what matters it 
 what they say ? You should be glad that they can not 
 charge you with aught of which you need be ashamed." 
 
 " You are very good to me. I shall know you now bet- 
 ter than I have known you before. You and John have 
 not been very sociable with me."
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 351 
 
 "No, dear, for we were fearful of being misunderstood. " 
 
 "You should hare known me better. I am sorry 
 when I look back and see what I have lost all these years." 
 
 "We shall make up for it, now," said Mrs. Benham, 
 embracing Alana ; '* and I promise to give you all of my 
 company that you wish if you will not object to letting me 
 see your brave, sweet face very often often, that is, until 
 you are married. Then I shall take myself off.*' 
 
 " No ! " cried Alana, returning her caress. " Yon shall 
 not leave us," 
 
 '* Yes, dear, I must. I don't suppose I should be a bad 
 mother-in-law as mothers-in-law go, but the best are bet- 
 ter still when they don't live with their married children. 
 Now" 
 
 " May I conic ia and join the love-feast ? " said Miss 
 Pink, appearing at the half-open door. '' I knocked twice, 
 but, receiving no reply, I ventured to open the door. I give 
 you my word that I have not heard a word of the conversa- 
 tion, but I couldn't help seeing ! Of course, it's nothing 
 for either of you to be ashamed of." 
 
 "You should have knocked louder, Misa Pink but 
 come in. I am very fond of Miss Honeywood, and I am 
 sure she is fond of me." 
 
 Alana said nothing, and remained standing as though 
 about going away. 
 
 "Yes," exclaimed the irrepressible Miss Pink, ."and 
 you're likely to be still fonder of each other, if what a little 
 bird told me this morning should prove to be true. I had 
 just opened the window to air my bedroom, when a little 
 bird hopped on to the sill and said, * Althea, there's some- 
 thing going to take place at the Works that will make 
 your heart swell with joy that heart that always swells 
 when your friends and neighbors are made happy.' Was 
 the little bird speaking the truth, or was it a naughty little 
 bird that told lie
 
 352 ON THE SUSQUEHAtfNA. 
 
 "You will have to ask it, Miss Pink," said Mrs. Ben- 
 ham, severely. 
 
 " I did ask it, my dear friend, and it answered that all 
 the little birds around the Works were singing with joy 
 over the happy event that is to occur, let me hope, very 
 soon. But I won't press you too closely. I know, yes, 
 I know from my own experience," she went on, simper- 
 ingly, "how embarrassing certain matters are to the unso- 
 phisticated woman's mind. You see how disinterested I 
 am. Now that there is no danger that I shall be misunder- 
 stood, may I not take you into my confidence and tell you 
 that if I had been a little older, I should probably have 
 taken your place in in in the affections of of well, you 
 know who ? " 
 
 "Do you refer to my son?" inquired Mrs. Benham, 
 with all the austerity that she was capable of putting into 
 her voice. " Because, if you do, I must insist upon saying 
 that you never could, under any circumstances, have been 
 his wife." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " asked Miss Pink, quite unabashed 
 by the rebuke. "It only shows how often we are ignorant 
 of what is passing under our very noses. However, I am 
 a peaceable girl, one that never wants to make a disturb- 
 ance or to cause ill-feeling. Therefore, if you please, we 
 will let the matter drop." 
 
 " Good-by," said Alana, holding out her hand to Mrs. 
 Benham. "Won't you come over this evening and take 
 tea with me ? I shall be quite alone. You like bezique, 
 and so do I." 
 
 " Yes, I will come with pleasure. Good-by, dear." 
 
 "Good-morning, Miss Pink," said Alana. 
 
 " Good-morning, Miss Honeywood. I'm sure you're 
 not jealous of me." But Alaua did not hear the last words. 
 She had gone before they were spoken. 
 
 "Now, Miss Pink," said Mrs. Benham, "I think it is
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 353 
 
 my doty to tell you that yon are a prying, meddlesome, 
 and impertinent woman, and that you need never set your 
 foot inside of my house again ! There is a proverb to the 
 effect that 'he that pryeth into every clond may be stricken 
 with a thunderbolt.' I hope you will think of it, and change 
 your ways ; and there is another that teaches that * he who 
 touches pitch will be defiled/ and / intend to profit by that 
 one. I am very busy this morning, and I beg. therefore, 
 that yon will allow me to attend to what I have to do."* 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Benham ! You surely don't mean 
 what you say. What have I done ? I, who am so careful, 
 so reticent, so indisposed to hurt even a fly ! Think of 
 what I might have said, under the circumstances, had I 
 wished to hurt Miss Honeywood's feelings ! And this is 
 my return ! My feelings are nothing ! Oh. no ! n taking 
 out her handkerchief, not as clean as it might have been, 
 and pressing it to each eye in turn. "I came here to do a 
 kind kindness and this this is my re reward ! " 
 
 " How dare yon say that you might have married my 
 
 to ?" 
 
 "So so I might,** answered Miss Pink, continuing 
 to sob, and to superfluously dab her eyes with her handker- 
 chief. "If if you knew as much as I do, you you'd 
 treat me dif differ er ently." 
 
 "What do you mean, woman ? Do you mean to tefl 
 me that my son ever proposed marriage to you ? v 
 
 "No, no not exactly that," answered Miss Pink, re- 
 gaining in a measure her composure, though she still con- 
 tinued the make-believe sopping-up process with her hand- 
 kerchief. "I could see that he admired me. I have 
 watched him from my window, when he did not know that 
 I was looking at him, and he has often looked up and 
 kissed his hand.* 1 
 
 "It is impossible! I don't believe one word of it 
 Kissing his band to you ! You must be crazy."
 
 354: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " I admit that I may have misinterpreted his actions. 
 He might have been stroking his beard. But it looked 
 very much to me as though he were kissing his hand." 
 
 " Kiuiculous !" 
 
 " Perhaps so, but there were other things much more 
 decided. I can tell when a gentleman admires me, I 
 think. I never gave him any encouragement, for I felt 
 that I was too young to marry. But I did not come to 
 talk about this matter. I have found something that may 
 be of importance, and I hoped that you would tell me what 
 to do with it." 
 
 " You have been very foolish, and I don't believe I can 
 ever forgive you for saying that you might have married 
 my son if you had chosen." 
 
 " You are too good a Christian, Mrs. Benham, to har- 
 bor unkind feelings against one who, at the worst, has only 
 been mistaken. We are none of us perfect. To err is 
 human, and I am very human. To forgive is divine, and 
 you are very divine. Let us drop the subject. I shall try 
 to bear my cross with meekness and humility." 
 
 "Pshaw!" 
 
 " Well ! well ! if all the world were agreed, it would bo 
 . a very stupid place. But let me tell you the errand on 
 which I came. Do vou believe in dreams ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I do, and I believe that the soul of a human being 
 can leave its earthly tenement and visit other people. I 
 had such a visit last night." 
 
 " You mean that you had a dream." 
 
 "Call it what you please. It happened during my 
 sleep, but it was none the less real, for it awoke me, and 
 continued for nearly a minute after I had ceased to be 
 asleep. I saw your son, Mr. John Benham, standing in 
 the middle of the room and regarding me with an affec- 
 tionate expression on his face. Therefore I know what his
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 355 
 
 real feelings are, even though circumstances may stand in 
 the way of his open avowal of them." 
 
 " You seem determined to make me uncomfortable to- 
 day, if you can," rejoined Mrs. Benham with increased as- 
 perity. " I suppose no one can prevent your dreaming of 
 my son, but you are very foolish to come to his mother 
 with your absurd fancies. You had a most improbable 
 dream, and that is all there is about it." 
 
 " Yes, I know he has gone away. I met Lucille, Miss 
 Honeywood's maid, this morning, and she told me he had 
 gone, but I think she mentioned Montreal." 
 
 Oh I and I suppose it was from Lucille that you ob- 
 tained information of the other matter to which you had 
 the indelicacy to refer. You ought to be above gossiping 
 with people's servants. I shall warn Miss Honeywood to 
 be more on her guard hereafter against her maid." 
 
 "And get me into trouble, too ! Surely, my dear Mrs. 
 Benham, you would not do that. You are too much of a 
 Christian to do either of us an injury." 
 
 " I find that it takes a great deal of Christianity more, 
 in fact, than I possess to tolerate you. I must really beg 
 you now to excuse me. I have several letters to write, 
 and" 
 
 " And I have not yet told you what I came for ! One 
 moment, and then I think you will be willing to put off 
 writing your letters for the rest of the day. It was early 
 when I met Lucille. I thought I would like some wurst 
 for breakfast, and I was going to Mr. Schmucher's, the 
 butchers, to get a pound. After parting from her I had 
 gone only a few steps when I saw, lying on the grass along- 
 side of the road, a little leather-covered memorandum- 
 book, such as men use to keep notes in. I picked it up, 
 thinking it belonged to some one about the Works, and not, 
 of course, intending to read any more of it than might be 
 sufficient for me to discover to whom it belonged. On the
 
 356 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 cover I read the name 'Susan Mullin.' I didn't know 
 any one of that name about here, so I was obliged to open 
 it. I glanced through the leaves, all of which were closely 
 covered with writing, but I saw frequent references to Mr. 
 Honeywood and Miss Honeywood, and so I thought it 
 must concern them more than any one else, and that I 
 would ask you what I ought to do with it." 
 
 " Have you it with you ?" 
 
 "Yes, it is here in my pocket," with which words Miss 
 Pink produced a duodecimo memorandum-book, with the 
 name "Susan Mullin " written in a large round hand on the 
 cover, and handed it to Mrs. Benham. 
 
 "I do not think I ought to open it," Baid that lady. 
 " I think I know who dropped it." 
 
 "And I know also who dropped it," exclaimed Miss 
 Pink. "It was the lady who paid a long visit last night 
 to Miss Honeywood, and who was taken to jail by a Phila- 
 delphia police-officer. She walked along that road to the 
 station, and must have lost it. Or perhaps she threw it 
 away, supposing that she would be searched, and not wish- 
 ing to have it found in her possession." 
 
 "Lucille, I see, has been very full in her information. 
 Did she also tell you who the woman was ?" 
 
 "No, for she did not know, except that she had come 
 for the purpose of defrauding Miss Honeywood in some 
 way, but that Mr. Benham and Mr. Wade were too much 
 for her, and that she was exposed and carried off to Phila- 
 delphia." 
 
 " I think the book should be given to Mr. Wade," said 
 Mrs. Benham. " He will know better than any one else what 
 to do with it. It was very kind of you to bring it to me." 
 
 "I am perfectly willing to give it to Mr. Wade. There 
 might be some things in it that it would not be proper for 
 Miss Honeywood to see, and he will know what to show 
 her and what to keep back."
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAN'XA. 357 
 
 " If it concerns her at all he will certainly show her the 
 whole of it She is not a child. It may be proper to re- 
 turn it at once to the woman that lost it. At all events, 
 Mr. Wade, by his position and profession, is the man to 
 take charge of it Shall I send it to him now ? " 
 
 'I hare no objection." 
 
 Whereupon Mrs. Benham wrapped up the book in 
 paper, tied it securely, and then, writing on the package, 
 '' Found by Miss Pink, and given to me to send to you. 
 Amelia Benham," sent it by a man who did errands of the 
 kind for her, and who was then in the house. 
 
 'Xow my mind feels easy," said Miss Pink, rising to 
 go. '' I hope you don't think my visit impertinent, since 
 you know what brought me here." 
 
 " I never said your visit was impertinent I thought 
 your statement that you could have married my son im- 
 pertinent, and I think so still." 
 
 " Well, well ! we'll not talk about that any more. I 
 think I know how to bear a corroding sorrow without 
 letting the ulcers show on my face." "With which patho- 
 logical comparison Miss Pink took her leave. 
 
 . She was disappointed, notwithstanding her acquiescence, 
 in the disposition that had been made of the memorandum- 
 book. She had not read it, for she was very sure that Mrs. 
 Benham and she would go over it together ; and it was a 
 blow to her, therefore, when that lady proposed sending 
 it to Mr. Wade without reading it She had, however, 
 looked it through, and had been struck with the evidence 
 it afforded of the relations of an intimate character that 
 existed between the Honeywoods and certain members of 
 the Mullin family. Indeed, to one knowing so little about 
 the matter as did Miss Pink which was in fact nothing at 
 all it is doubtful if she could have discovered the full 
 purport of the entries made in the little book, even if she 
 had carefully perused it
 
 358 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 But Mr. Wade had the key. and to him it was all as 
 clear as the noonday sun. He had not got back from his 
 usual morning's horseback-ride when the package was left 
 on his library-table, but he returned soon afterward, and 
 for more than an hour he was deeply engaged in studying 
 the contents of the little book, stopping now and then to 
 utter some emphatic ejaculation as some point of more than 
 ordinary interest was revealed to him. When he had 
 finished he locked it up in his desk, and paced the large 
 room for several minutes, thinking of the plan of opera- 
 tions he should initiate, and, he did not doubt, carry on to 
 a successful termination. Then, having apparently made 
 up his mind what course to pursue, he put on his hat and 
 went to the telegraph-office, where he sent a message to 
 Benham, directed to his hotel at Harrisburg, requesting 
 him to return at once. In a short time the answer came 
 back that Mr. Benham had gone to Philadelphia. He sent 
 the message then to the hotel in Philadelphia at which he 
 knew Benham always stopped. While waiting for the 
 answer to this, he wrote and dispatched several other 
 telegrams two to Montreal, two to Philadelphia, and one 
 to New York and then, leaving word that any answers 
 were to be sent to him at his tower, he went to make a call 
 on Alan a. 
 
 And yet he knew that his visit would in one sense be 
 premature. The book gave him many important data 
 toward unraveling the mystery connected with her father 
 and the Mullin family ; but he had had such ample evi- 
 dence of the mendacity of all the members of that family 
 who had come under his notice, that he could not regard 
 any information that rested altogether on their assertions 
 as being worthy of credit. It might be true, and it might 
 be false. 
 
 Still, in this case, there was a record that had evi- 
 dently been made for the use of the person making it, and
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAX3TA. 359 
 
 not for purposes of deception. This of itself was a strong 
 point in favor of its truth. ID fact, the statements made 
 in the book fitted so accurately with the rather disjointed 
 mass of data in his possession, that he did not believe 
 that there was a reasonable doubt that he had at last 
 obtained all the knowledge necessary for the determina- 
 tion of the questions connected with Alana's father and 
 mother. 
 
 But, while this was the case, he did not have that de- 
 gree of surety that could only be obtained by the confirma- 
 tion by others of the statements in the book, and hence he 
 had made up his mind to say nothing on the subject to 
 Alana till he had received answers to the telegrams he had 
 dispatched, beyond, perhaps, giving her certain vague as- 
 surances that ere long her doubts would be relieved, even 
 if in certain points her fears were confirmed. He knew 
 the terrible, wearing influence on the mind of the anxiety 
 that comes from uncertainty, and he was also aware of the 
 fact that Alana vras experiencing it in its most intense 
 form. Besides, there were several business matters in re- 
 gard to which he wanted her action. 
 
 She had just returned from her visit to Mrs. Benham, 
 when he entered the library in which she was sitting, try- 
 ing to interest herself in a recent novel. But the book 
 was stupid, a fault that no amount of fine writing will 
 atone for, and she was about throwing it down in utter 
 weariness over its platitudes and absurdities, when Mr. 
 "Wade came into the room. 
 
 " You see," said Alana, as she held out her hand to him, 
 " that I am trying to engage my mind with other things 
 than those that filled it last night. If I had had an inter- 
 esting book, I might have succeeded, but with this mel- 
 ancholic production I found the task to be more than I 
 could accomplish." 
 
 " Tell me about it," said Mr. Wade, wishing to divert 
 16
 
 360 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 her mind as much as possible. "I am interested in hear- 
 ing your criticism. What's the name of the book ? " 
 
 " The name ? Oh, I can not give you the name ; I am 
 afraid there would be a sort of fascination that would make 
 you buy it, if I told you the name." 
 
 "That is possible, I admit. When I hear of a book be- 
 ing atrociously bad, I am impelled to get it and see for my- 
 self, just as a particularly ugly person draws my eye-sight." 
 
 "Doubtless that will be applied to him. The probabil- 
 ity is, that you will never hear of this one again as a writer 
 of novels." 
 
 f 'Mr. Benham went away this morning," resumed 
 Alana, suddenly changing the conversation, " to be gone a 
 week. Did he tell you that I have concluded to buy your 
 coal-mine ? " 
 
 "No, I didn't see him this morning." 
 
 '< Well, consider the sale made, and please have the 
 necessary papers prepared at once. I'm going to plunge 
 into business now to a greater extent than ever." 
 
 "I shall at once attend to it. By securing this mine, 
 you effectually prevent the establishment of any other fur- 
 nace in this vicinity. I think you are right to devote 
 more time than ever to your business interests. Nothing 
 tends so much to divert the mind from subjects that had 
 better be avoided. I looked at the new stack as I came 
 along, and I think it will be ready for use by the time Mr. 
 Benham gets back. By the by, I suppose he has told you 
 of his discovery." 
 
 '' No, he has told me very little about himself. He has 
 been too deeply interested in trying to assuage my troubles 
 to think of himself. What is it ? " 
 
 " A matter connected with the manufacture of iron that 
 he has at last perfected, and that a gentleman told me yes- 
 terday in Harrisburg would yield him half a million dollars 
 almost immediately."
 
 OX THE SUSQCEHAXXA. 361 
 
 "lam glad of that" 
 
 " Of course, he has informed you that he refused a 
 partnership in the Juniata Iron- Works of Cummings, Jan- 
 sen, and Jones ? " 
 
 'Did he do that? When?" 
 
 " Oh, several days ago. He made up his mind then, it 
 seems, that he would ask you to marry him just as he was 
 and as you had always known him, and that, if you refused 
 him, he would go away. Of course, he could not have 
 stayed here as your superintendent after you had rejected 
 him. It was very foolish in him to refuse the partner- 
 ship in his then state of uncertainty as to what your an- 
 swer would be. He ought to have asked for time to con- 
 sider it." 
 
 Alana thought for a moment. " Yes," she said at last, 
 "perhaps you are right, from a material point of view; 
 but women like an act of sacrifice and devotion like that." 
 
 "Well !" exclaimed Mr. Wade, laughingly, "as matters 
 have turned out, there's no harm done, but most men 
 would have made sure of the partnership." 
 
 "Ah ! but all men are not like John Benham." 
 
 "I came here to talk to you about the mine, but we 
 have settled that without discussion, and then I have an- 
 other matter which relates to the subjects that were partly 
 settled last night. I have acquired information that I 
 think is of such a character as to take the load from your 
 mind that has crushed you ever since your father's death. 
 I can not, my dear child," he continued, " speak to you 
 just now more definitely, but I think I am warranted in 
 saying that there is hope that your mothers character has 
 been misunderstood, and that she was not the depraved 
 woman we have thought her to be." 
 
 While he was speaking, Alana had risen to her feet, and 
 stood looking at him with all the interest that his words 
 were capable of exciting.
 
 362 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 "Do you moan to say," she inquired, her pale face, her 
 eager eyes, her half-opeii mouth expressing the intensity of 
 her feeling "do you mean to say that my mother was a 
 good woman ? " 
 
 " How good she was, my dear, I can not tell you. But 
 I do mean to say that I have strong reason for believing 
 that she was not the openly depraved, and criminal woman 
 that we have been led to regard her." 
 
 " How could she have been so foully wronged ? Oh, 
 never mind now, who has done the wrong, so that it is a 
 wrong ! " 
 
 "In a few hours I shall probably be able to tell you the 
 whole story. In the mean time, prepare yourself for the 
 good news." 
 
 At the time Mr. Wade was talking to Alana, John Ben- 
 ham was in Middletown, on his way back by the circuitous 
 route which, as we have seen, brought him to the Works 
 late that night. If they could have communicated with 
 each other, much suffering would have been spared to 
 several of the principal persons with whom this story is 
 concerned. It was only another instance of the fact that 
 the affairs of men often depend for their success or failure 
 upon some apparently trifling and disregarded circumstance. 
 
 Mr. Wade, on leaving Alana, went to his house, but 
 found that no telegrams had yet been received from any of 
 the parties to whom his messages had been sent. But he 
 found one from Mr. Layton, the district attorney, request- 
 ing his immediate presence in Harrisburg with Miss Honey- 
 wood, for that Todd was to be examined that afternoon at 
 three o'clock. There was nothing to do but to obey, and, 
 at half-past two at about the time that Benham was talk- 
 ing with Miss Veronica Schupp in Linglestown Alana was 
 on her way to Harrisburg to give her evidence in the pre- 
 liminary examination in the case of the Commonwealth of 
 Pennsylvania against Alexander Todd.
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 ME. WADE and Alana, on arriving at Harrisburg, went 
 at once to the court-house, where Todd's examination was 
 to take place. She felt anxious and excited, for she did 
 not know how much of her own personal history would 
 come out ; and she experienced, as was very natural, a re- 
 pugnance to making a statement that would in all proba- 
 bility be the means of sending one of her nearest relatives 
 to the penitentiary for a very considerable part of his life. 
 Very much, however, to her relief, there was nothing re- 
 vealed relative to her relationship to the man, and for this 
 circumstance she knew that she was indebted to his for- 
 bearance. He was, of course, present in court, attended 
 by counsel, but it was now evident that he had not made 
 his legal adviser acquainted with any portion of his family 
 history, or of the fact that he was the uncle of the chief 
 witness for the Commonwealth. 
 
 Alana gave her evidence very clearly, being careful to 
 state only facts, without indulging in surmises or infer- 
 ences. She deposed to Todd's attack upon her, to his rob- 
 bing her of her watch and pocket-pook, and to Ms threat 
 to cut off one of her fingers. Relative to the homicide of 
 his wife, she testified to the fact that Todd had told the 
 woman to get out of his way, and had slung her across the 
 room with no more force than was necessary to the accom- 
 plishment of his object ; that she had lost her balance and 
 had struck her head in falling against a piece of furniture. 
 She then went on to state how she had been rescued by the
 
 364 ON THE SUSQUEHANtfA. 
 
 timely appearance of Mr. John Benham, who had knocked 
 Todd down. 
 
 There was no cross-examination. 
 
 Then John Benham was called, and the district attor- 
 ney stated that Mr. Benham was absent, and had not been 
 served with a subpoena to attend. 
 
 Dr. Arndell was next examined. He testified to the 
 nature of the injury that Mrs. Todd had received, and that 
 it was the cause of her death. 
 
 The result was that Todd was duly committed to await 
 the action of the grand jury, and probably to stand his 
 trial for robbery from the person, and murder, at the com- 
 ing term of the court. 
 
 As Mr. Wade was leaving the court-room Alana had 
 gone at once to Mrs. Priestley's as soon as she had given her 
 evidence the prisoner made a sign that he wished to speak 
 with him. 
 
 " You've treated me very well," he said, in a low tone, 
 taking Mr. Wade aside, while the officers, at that gentle- 
 man's request, went off to a little distance, "and Miss 
 Honeywood has told the exact truth, without trying to 
 make things worse for me than they really are. She might 
 have sent me to the gallows if she had chosen, and many a 
 one in her place would have done it, too, just to get rid of 
 a troublesome customer like me. Suppose she had said 
 that when I took hold of my wife I said, ' I'll kill you, 
 damn you ! ' or something like that, it would have been the 
 end of me. Now, I ain't such a very bad fellow when I 
 ain't drunk as you might think, and I'm going to return 
 her kindness. I'm her uncle, of course, but I'm not going 
 to own kin with her any more. No one will ever know 
 that I'm her mother's brother. I've told no one but her, 
 and you, and the parson. When I told him, I was drunk, 
 and so I let him understand, this morning. He thinks now 
 that I was lying, or didn't know what I was talking about."
 
 OS THE STSQUEHAOTA. 365 
 
 " There's nothiiig ever gained by a lie," said Mr. Wade, 
 gravely. It was unfortunate that you told him of your 
 relationship, but it would have been better not to hare 
 contradicted the story with a falsehood."' 
 
 "That's all nonsense !" exclaimed Todd. The man 
 that wouldn't lie to serve a friend ain't worth much, I 
 think. And Fre known a lie do a devilish sight more good 
 than the truth ! However, that's my lookout, not jours. 
 Ton won't hare to sizzle for it in the next world, nor she 
 either. Sow," he continued, as Mr. Wade made no an- 
 swer to these sophistical remarks, "I'm going to do 
 more for her stilL Our little game is pretty much come to 
 an end. I hear my sister has been nabbed, and she's good 
 for anywhere from ten to twenty-fire years in the State's 
 prison, which will be as long as she lives, I guess. Fm 
 going to make a clean breast of it. and, if youll get permis- 
 sion to spend an hour with me in my cell to-night, Fll tell 
 yon the whole story. It isn't as bad as you think for 
 though, perhaps, it's bad enough. I won't ask you to 
 take my word for it neither. Ill refer you to all the proofs, 
 and Fve got some of them that I'll give you." 
 
 "At last," thought Mr. Wade, "all seems to be con- 
 verging to one point." '* HI come, 19 he said, aloud. "I 
 may as well tefl yon," he added, "that Ihavein my posses- 
 sion a memorandum-book that your sister appears to have 
 dropped white at flic Snsqnehanna Iron-Works, and which 
 was found and placed in my hands." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know that book! That was our guide, so 
 that we shouldn't forget anything. AD the dates and 
 plans of operations are there. Yon see, when people go 
 into an affair like that, they've got to make sure to be 
 consistent and not contradict themselves. She had it all 
 by heart, I guess. Well, you'll be able to fee from that 
 whether I tell you the truth or not" 
 
 "I ahaH come at wren 0'etock."
 
 366 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " All right, I'll be ready. I suppose there hasn't any- 
 thing been heard of Rackett, or Johnson, as he called him- 
 self here. I'd like to get even with him ! I told Mr. Ben- 
 ham all about him this morning, and I told him I thought 
 he'd better go back to the Works and make ready for a 
 visit. You haven't seen anything of him, I suppose 
 Mr. Benham, I mean ? " 
 
 "No, he went to Philadelphia." 
 
 " I guess not. He might have given out that he was 
 going to Philadelphia, but I'm sure he went back to the 
 Works. You'd better be on your guard up there, for to- 
 morrow night Tony will be down on you pretty sure." 
 
 This intelligence worried Mr. Wade not a little. 
 " Where was Benham ? " he asked himself. Certainly not 
 in Philadelphia, for he had received no answer to his 
 telegram sent to him at the hotel at which he always put 
 up. And equally certainly he had not gone back to the 
 Works. Leaving the court-house, he crossed the street 
 to the hotel at which Benham stopped when in Harrisburg, 
 and ascertained that he had that morning left the house 
 with the expressed intention of going to Philadelphia. 
 Then Mr. Wade walked down Market Street to the railway- 
 station, and found that Benham, who was well known to 
 all the employe's, had purchased a ticket for Philadelphia 
 and had taken his seat in the train. Thus far everything 
 seemed to show that he had gone to that city. Perceiving 
 the desirability of his presence at the Works, Mr. Wade 
 telegraphed to a friend in Philadelphia, requesting him to 
 call at the principal hotels in search of Benham, and, upon 
 finding him, to tell him that he was wanted at the Susque- 
 hanna Iron-Works immediately. But in the course of the 
 afternoon he received an answer to the effect that Benham 
 was not to be found at any of the principal hotels. As a 
 matter of fact, he was then crossing the mountain-range 
 between Linglestown and the Susquehanna Iron- Works,
 
 OX THE STSQUEHASFA. S-57 
 
 and thinking how he could best act so as to defeat the 
 schemes of Backett and his men. 
 
 The inability to find Benham worried Mr. Wade not a 
 little. He wanted him not only to act, but because be 
 now believed that there would be no necessity for the jour- 
 ney to Montreal. He could only explain the matter by the 
 supposition that Benham had not yet gone to a hotel, bar- 
 ing received intelligence that required to be immediately 
 acted upon. What more likely, he thought, than that, on 
 arriving in the city, he had gone at once to the Moyamen- 
 ing Prison to see Mrs. L'Estrange ? What, in fact" could 
 he do better than that, except to come home ? This idea 
 satisfied him, and then he went to Mrs. Priestley's to in- 
 form Alan* that he would not be able to go back with 
 her, but would return in a late train after he had seen 
 Todd. 
 
 He found her in better spirits than at any time since 
 her father's death. The assurances he had given her in the 
 morning had evidently produced a beneficial result that 
 was to be perceived in the happy laugh that he heard from 
 her before he entered the room, and which he had not heard 
 before in many a long day. He stopped a moment before 
 going into the room. The door was ajar. There were no 
 secrets being discussed, and he thought he might venture 
 to listen, if only for the purpose of joining more intelli- 
 gently in the conversation. 
 
 "I teH you what it is, girls," Mis. Priestley was saying, 
 "it's my opinion thereH be a wedding at the Works be- 
 fore the winter is over. Mr. Trevor was here this morning, 
 and he could talk of nobody but Ahna." 
 
 "Yes," said Collet ta, "thereTl be a wedding, Fve no 
 doubt, but the happy man will be Dr. Arndell, not Mr. 
 Trevor. He spent last evening here, and he also could talk 
 of nothing but Alana. He seemed to think that aU he had 
 to do was to say, 'Gome to my arms, best beloved of my
 
 368 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 heart ! ' and that, she would rush forward as though as 
 though " 
 
 "My dear," interrupted Rubina, " comparisons of the 
 kind you are attempting are scarcely admissible in good 
 society. The only simile you can suggest is, ' as though 
 the devil were after her,' and that would scarcely be 
 proper. Now, I can assure you that Alana hasn't the 
 slightest idea of taking either the parson or the doctor. 
 The one is altogether too bashful and the other too confi- 
 dent, and, besides, she can do very much better. I have 
 given a good deal of attention to this matter, and I can 
 assure you that " 
 
 "Good people," interrupted Alana, laughing, "I'm 
 greatly obliged to you for the interest you take in seeing 
 that I am properly provided for, but you are all wrong." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Wade, coming forward, "you are all 
 wrong, as Alana says, for not one of you thought of me. 
 Do you think," he continued, as Mrs. Priestley and her 
 daughters gathered around him, for he was a great favorite 
 with them, " that because I have remained a bachelor for 
 for well, I won't say how many years, I'm never going 
 to take a wife ? " 
 
 "Oh, no !" exclaimed Mrs. Priestley, "we don't think 
 anything of the kind, but perhaps it would be indiscreet to 
 inquire of you, after the manner of Lord Chesterfield's son 
 of his father, ' Whose wife are you going to take ? ' " 
 
 "By George !" he said to himself, as he fixed his eyes 
 admiringly on the elder lady, "she looks so pretty to-day 
 that if we were alone I should almost be tempted to an- 
 swer, 'Joe Priestley's wife !'" Then, aloud : "Madam, I 
 did but banter. God forbid that I should ever so hamper 
 myself ! A freeman I have lived till now, a freeman I shall 
 continue to live till such time as it shall please an All-wise 
 Providence to remove me from this sublunary sphere." 
 
 "'How sweet it is," said Mrs. Priestley, with affected
 
 OX THE SCSQUEHASXA. 3$9 
 
 admiration, " to hear those we esteem discourse feelingly 
 of matters that they don't understand ! It gives me re- 
 newed assurance that the world is not all bad ; that, here 
 and there, there is a man and brother with a heart open to 
 ths refining influences that" 
 
 " Xow, mamma, 77 broke in Bubina, " you're getting be- 
 yond your depth. If s well I interrupted you, for yon 
 never would have been able to bring that sentence to a sat- 
 isfactory end." 
 
 "Thank you, my dear," said Mr. Wade, "for pitying 
 the sorrows of a poor old man ! But I did not come here 
 to talk of * marriage or of giving in marriage,' though I 
 admit that I might go further and fare worse. I came to 
 tell Alana that I am obliged to stay here till this evening, 
 and that I shall not be able to go back to the Works till a 
 late train ; so that if you," turning to Mrs. Priestley, " will 
 keep her till I call for her, I shall be greatly obliged, un- 
 less, indeed, what is not very likely, she should prefer to 
 go by the 5.20 train." 
 
 Alana was very willing to stay, and Mrs. Priestley and 
 her daughters were delighted that they should have her a 
 few hours longer with them. Then Mr. Wade took his 
 departure, and she was left alone with her three friends. 
 
 She was very fond of the Priestleys. They had been 
 very kind to her in more ways than one, and she began to 
 think that there would be no impropriety in her telling 
 them that she was going to marry John Benham. She 
 felt very sure now that she should marry him. Mr. 
 Wade's assurances had dissipated the one cloud that had 
 prevented her seeing her way clear to becoming his wife. 
 Doubtless she would have married him nevertheless She 
 had made up her mind to that, but it would have been a 
 marriage into which she would not have entered with a clear 
 conviction that she was not wronging the man she loved. 
 Xow it seemed as though she could almost look him in the
 
 370 ON THE SUSQUEIIANNA. 
 
 face as not unworthy to stand by his side in their course 
 through life. It was a great load to take from her mind 
 a load that she would have felt all her days, no matter 
 how kind and loving her husband might be. Now, it was 
 off, or almost off. Mr. Wade, she was sure, would never 
 have spoken as he had, unless all doubt were removed 
 from his mind. Yes, she would tell the Priestleys. 
 
 She longed to speak of the event that to her was the 
 sweetest of all her life. She had no mother, no sisters to 
 converse with about the man she loved ; to hear their 
 praises of him and to sound them herself into their willing 
 ears. She was sure of her friends' sympathy. They all 
 liked Benham. She had often heard them descant on his 
 good qualities. She wanted to hear them again, and for 
 them to know that he belonged to her now. 
 
 " Sit down," she said to them, for they were still stand- 
 ing in different parts of the room, not having quite recov- 
 ered from the effects of Mr. Wade's departure. "Sit 
 down here, close to me, for I'm going to tell you of some- 
 thing that has made me very happy. I am going to tell 
 you, because you are my dearest friends, with Mr. Wade, 
 and because my heart is so full of the joy I feel that I 
 must speak of it to some one. You were all engaged just 
 now in selecting a husband for me, but not one of you 
 chose the right man, though you, Rubina, I suspect, would 
 have mentioned his name, if I had not interrupted you. I 
 am going to marry Mr. John Benham." 
 
 " I knew it ! " cried Rubina, jumping up and throwing 
 her arms around Alana's neck, while Mrs. Priestley and 
 Colletta, shoving her aside, were also prodigal with their 
 caresses " I was sure of it ! He's the only man I ever 
 saw who's fit to be your husband." 
 
 "He is the only man I ever saw," answered Alana, 
 " that I would be willing to marry." 
 
 "I wish," said Colletta, " that you would tell me what
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 371 
 
 you see in him to love. Doubtless he is lovable, but I am 
 curious to know how he strikes a woman with your good 
 cense and severity of judgment." 
 
 " Oh, my dear ! " exclaimed Alana, laughing, " don't 
 expect me to enumerate all the cardinal virtues as being 
 inherent in Mr. John Benham. I love him because because 
 I love him ! I have never stopped to analyze my feelings. 
 He is good and true, and braye and self-reliant Perhaps 
 I should never have cared for him if I had not seen that 
 he possessed these qualities, but I should love him now 
 whether he had them or not." 
 
 "Oh, no !" rejoined the girl, "yon surely would not 
 love him if he were not worthy of your love." 
 
 "I would," said Alana, with feeling and emphasis in 
 her tone. "1 -would love him, even though I might not 
 respect him. Is the mother to cease to love her son when 
 ghe discovers that he has committed a crime ? Is the wife 
 to desert her husband when he has dishonored himself ? " 
 
 "But suppose," persisted Colletta, "he were to beat 
 you?" 
 
 "That would be impossible, of course, as would be the 
 commission of any ignoble act, by John Benham ; but even 
 if he were to beat me, though I should probably die of sor- 
 row, I should not cease to love him. Do we not in low life 
 hear of instances of wifely devotion for the brutes that 
 kick and stamp upon those they have sworn to love and 
 cherish ? That is right ; it is as it should be. A woman's 
 love for a man should be absolute, incapable of being 
 alienated by anything he may do. Even the dog loves the 
 master that maltreats it" 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Priestley, who had been listening 
 with rapt attention to Alana's declaration of sentiments, 
 "ifs all very well for you to talk in that way, for your 
 opinions are in accordance with your nature. You are one 
 of the clinging types of womanhood a type that is becom-
 
 372 ON THE SCSQUEIIANNA. 
 
 ing smaller every day, and that, ere long, will vanish for a 
 time from the face of the earth, to return again, and again 
 to disappear, through successive ages. Such views as those 
 you have expressed are not held now to any considerable 
 extent among what are called the higher classes, though in 
 low life they appear to prevail. Bridget Murphy comes 
 into court with her blackened eyes and bruised breast, and 
 begs that her ruffianly husband may be let off from his 
 justly deserved punishment ; but Mrs. Henrietta Stanhope, 
 if her husband snaps his fingers in her face, sues for a 
 divorce. And the public has a contempt for the one, while 
 it sympathizes and applauds the other. The * strong- 
 minded women ' of the day, my dear, will call you a milk- 
 sop, and a poor, mean-spirited creature, if you are known 
 to entertain such doctrines as those you -have just ex- 
 pressed. But when a woman loves a good man after that 
 fashion, her happiness and his are assured." 
 
 "Yes, I think so," said Alana, with a happy smile on 
 her face. "John Benham will never perpetrate a mean or 
 dishonorable action, or treat me unkindly ; but if he did, I 
 should love him all tho same. Because he fails in his duty 
 is no reason why I should disregard mine. Good heavens ! " 
 she exclaimed, starting to her feet, "I must go home. I 
 entirely forgot that I have invited Mrs. Benham to tea 
 with me. There is barely time for me to take the 5.20 
 train." 
 
 " You'll have to walk to Market Street," said Mrs. 
 Priestley, "and then you can take the street-car to tho 
 station. There isn't time for me to get my carriage ready, 
 and there arc no cab-stands in Harrisburg yet. I was hop- 
 ing we should have you to tea with us. I want you to 
 meet Mr. Broadnax, of New Orleans, who," she added, in a 
 whisper, intended only for Alana's ears, "is very sweet on 
 Colletta. He's a widower, and, it is said, killed his first 
 wife bv. his ill-treatment of her. That's the reason she
 
 ON THE SUSQUEIIAXXA. 373 
 
 interrogated you so sharply. She likes him, for he is a most 
 fascinating man ; but, poor child, she is a little bit afraid." 
 
 " I think she has that in her that would make any man 
 kind to her. Men are very much what women make them. 
 Then, of course, she will not be able to go home with me 
 and stay all night. I was going to ask her and Rubina. 
 You will come with me, my dear, won't you ? " she con- 
 tinued, turning to the elder Miss Priestley. " I can't 
 promise to show you my future husband, but I can at 
 least make you renew your acquaintance with my future 
 mother-in-law." 
 
 ' Go, Rubina ! " said Mrs. Priestley. " The trip will do 
 you good. Hurry and pack your hand-bag." 
 
 "Oh, neTer mind that!" cried Alana. "I can giro 
 her all the toilet articles and underclothing she will want. 
 We are about the same size." 
 
 Nevertheless, Rubina, who was very willing to accept 
 Alana's invitation, hurried up-stairs, and in a few minutes 
 returned arranged for the journey, and with a little travel- 
 ing-bag in her hand. In a moment she and her friend had 
 left the house, and at 5.20 were on their way to the Works, 
 arriving just in time to get ready for the six-o'clock tea to 
 which Mrs. Benham had been invited. 
 
 Nothing worthy of especial notice occurred during the 
 evening except that, at about eight o'clock, Mr. Trevor 
 entered the drawing-room. He had evidently expected to 
 find Alana alone, and his face and manner gave unmistak- 
 able evidence of his disappointment. As a matter of fact, 
 he had nerved himself up to the point of asking her to be 
 his wife, and the reaction from the elation he had ex- 
 perienced was pitiable to see. It would be difficult, he 
 knew, for him to reach another such stage of confidence. 
 All saw his chagrin, and his presence was thus a damper 
 on the little party. After a few minutes of dreary at- 
 tempts at conversation, he took his departure.
 
 374 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Mr. Wade did not put in an appearance that night. It 
 was twelve o'clock when he got back to the Works, and on 
 the very train that Benham would have taken had he not 
 driven over from Dauphin. He had had a very satis- 
 factory interview with Todd, and this, added to several 
 telegrams that he found awaiting him, put the matters 
 connected with Alana's mother in such a form that doubt 
 was no longer possible. He determined that in the morn- 
 ing he would place before Alana all the facts, capable, as 
 they now were, of being resolved into a connected story, 
 and that he would make renewed efforts to discover the 
 whereabout of Benham. As the reader is aware, that gen- 
 tleman was at the time in company with Dr. Arndell on 
 his way to the South Fork of Powell's Creek, to obtain in- 
 formation relative to the location and plans of Mr. Tony 
 Eackett and his party.
 
 CHAPTER XXYIL 
 
 AFTER ArndelTs departure, Mr. Wade had gone back 
 to bed, bat there were so many things on his mind that 
 he found it impossible to get to sleep again. He there- 
 fore, after an hoar's attempt in this direction, rose and, as 
 a first duty, went at once to Squire McElroy's, to obtain 
 warrants for the apprehension of the three forge-men who 
 had been connected with Backett's gang. They were 
 served, one after the other, by the one constable of the 
 township that lived at the Works, and the men were soon 
 in custody, in irons, and confined in a room adjoining the 
 squire's office, till the arrival of a train to take them to 
 Harrisburg. 
 
 Of course, the necessary proceedings created some ex- 
 citement among the workmen and other inhabitants of the 
 Susqnehanna Iron-Works, and Squire McElroy's little office 
 was crowded with men, women, and children, drawn thither 
 by the sight of the constable going down the long street 
 three successiTe times, with one hand resting on his 
 prisoners arm and the other grasping the handle of a 
 revolver. Fortunately for the cause of law and order, the 
 men had not gone to their work, otherwise the one legal 
 functionary would not have been able to accomplish his 
 work in so satisfactory a manner. As it was. they were 
 still in bed at their homes, so that he was enabled to arrest 
 them in detail 
 
 But, as only about a tenth part of those assembled in 
 and about the squire's office were able to obtain even a
 
 376 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 tolerably correct idea of what it all meant, the most exag- 
 gerated statements were circulated among the crowd, rela- 
 tive to the crimes of which the prisoners were accused. 
 Some declared that they had been detected in an attempt to 
 burn the Works ; others, that they had murdered Mr. Ben- 
 ham ; and some color was given to this rumor by the facts 
 that the superintendent was not in his office, and that few 
 were aware of the circumstance that he had gone away. 
 Mr. Wade, fearing their stories might reach Alana, and cause 
 her unnecessary alarm, thought at first of going to her 
 with a true account of the matter, but upon reflection con- 
 sidered it better to write her a short note, telling her that 
 there was no cause for apprehension, and then to go home 
 and get the papers that so nearly concerned her systemati- 
 cally arranged, so that they could be presented to her in a 
 form that would at once convey to her mind a correct idea 
 of their purport. He was a very methodical man, as are 
 most old bachelors, especially if they are lawyers. 
 
 Besides, he was hungry, not having yet had his break- 
 fast, so that there were plenty of reasons why he should go 
 home before making his call on Alana. Accordingly, home 
 he went. 
 
 He found Mrs. Schwartz indignant at his failure to 
 come to his breakfast when it was ready, but he was not in 
 the mood to resent her innuendoes and lamentations. "Give 
 me something to eat," he said, "and stop your growling," 
 smiling good-naturedly as he spoke. He felt glad that at 
 last the matters that had troubled him and Alana were com- 
 ing to a happy ending, and it would have taken a good deal 
 from Mrs. Schwartz to have developed even a very mild 
 emotion of anger. 
 
 He finished his breakfast, and then he set about the 
 work of arranging his data in their proper sequence. It 
 was not a very easy task. Many of the notes that were 
 contained in the memorandum-book that Miss Pink had
 
 ON THE SUSQUEUAXXA. 377 
 
 found were of no consequence, and would only encumber his 
 narration with unimportant details. He was famous for 
 his skill in detecting the salient features of a case, and he 
 brought his experience to bear with effect upon the in- 
 stance before him. 
 
 It was twelve o'clock, and he had not yet got through 
 his labors, when old Schwartz came into the room, his eyes 
 wide open, and his manner showing that he had heard some- 
 thing that he regarded as of great importance. 
 
 " There's bad news," he exclaimed, as soon as he had 
 recovered the breath he had lost by the rapidity of move- 
 ments to which he had not in late years been accustomed. 
 "Mr. Gilchrist has just come over from Lykens, and he 
 says that, just before he left there by a coal-train, Dr. Arn- 
 dell came in bringing Mr. Benham, who had been shot 
 through the lungs by robbers in the mountains. He could 
 not stop to learn further particulars, for the train was leav- 
 ing and he had to hurry ; but he saw the wagon in which 
 Mr. Benham was lying, and heard them telling Dr. Green 
 about the wound." 
 
 While the man was speaking, 3Ir. Wade listened with- 
 out interrupting him. There was every probability that 
 the story was true, and here, just as he was congratulating 
 himself that affairs were coming to a happy ending, this 
 new complication had arisen to throw everything back, and 
 perhaps even to make matters worse than they had yet been. 
 If Benham were wounded seriously, an active element of 
 disturbance would be cast into the current of Alana's life 
 that could not but in the present state of her mind act 
 most injuriously. If possible, she must be prevented hear- 
 ing anything of the circumstances until they could be told 
 to her with the assurance that they were true. He knew 
 how generally it is the case that exaggeration characterized 
 statements made from knowledge as inexact as that that 
 had evidently served for the basis of the account given by
 
 378 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 Mr. Gilchrist. There would be time enough to tell her of 
 what had happened when information in regard to it came, 
 as it certainly would, in due season, from Dr. Arndell. 
 
 " Where is Mr. Gilchrist ? " he inquired of Schwartz, 
 who still looked the picture of astonishment and fear. 
 
 " He's in the kitchen. He's my wife's cousin." 
 
 " Has he been to the Tillage yet ? " 
 
 " No, he stopped here first, thinking that you'd like to 
 hear what had happened." 
 
 "Well, and why the devil don't you bring him to me, 
 instead of giving me the news through your thick head ? 
 Send him here at once ! " 
 
 Schwartz hurried out of the room as fast as his old legs 
 would carry him, and in a few minutes returned with Mr. 
 Gilchrist. 
 
 "What's this news you bring of Mr. Benham being 
 wounded ? " inquired Mr. Wade, as soon as his visitor's 
 head appeared above the hole in the floor to which the 
 spiral staircase led. 
 
 "Just what I told Peter," answered Mr. Gilchrist. "I 
 was about leaving Lykens on a coal-train, when I saw a 
 wagon coming along the street, driven by Dr. Arndell. 
 Dr. Green met it, and the two doctors got to talking, and I 
 heard part of what they said. Dr. Arndell said that Mr. 
 Benham was in the wagon, dangerously shot in the Inngs, 
 by robbers, on Broad Mountain. Dr. Green insisted on 
 having the wounded man taken to his house, and the wag- 
 on drove off in that direction." 
 
 "Did you see Mr. Benham ?" 
 
 " No, the cover was down all around. I forgot to say, 
 however, that one of the robbers was caught in Lykens." 
 
 "And what became of the others ? " 
 
 "Didn't Peter tell you? I suppose he was so much 
 taken aback by Mr. Benham being hurt that he forgot. 
 The doctor didn't mention them in my hearing, but all the
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 379 
 
 people were talking about them. They were all killed, and 
 were lying on Broad Mountain, about two miles distant. 
 A party was going out after them. " 
 
 "Did Dr. Arndell say that Mr. Benham was badly 
 wounded ? " 
 
 *' Oh, yes, he said that ; but I heard him say something 
 about nursing and having to stay a long time ; so I guess, 
 from that, that he expected him to get well." 
 
 "I am much obliged to you, Mr. Gilchrist. You are a 
 man, I see, who keeps his senses about him. Now, excuse 
 me, please, for I want to go at once to Mrs. Benham with 
 the truth relative to her son. After you've told your story 
 in the village it will grow, and by the time it reaches her, 
 through the medium of Miss Pink, he will have received a 
 dozen wounds in his lungs, and be on his way here as a 
 corpse. I'll be still more obliged to you if you'll stay here 
 about a quarter of an hour longer. I want to tell Miss 
 Honeywood, too, exactly how the matter is with the super- 
 intendent. Peter, get out that bottle of old Monongahela, 
 that I opened last night, and set it before Mr. Gilchrist 
 down-stairs. You'll find that competent to amuse you for 
 fifteen minutes at least." 
 
 Mr. TVade gathered up his papers, although he had not 
 finished his arrangement of them, and, leaving Mr. Gil- 
 christ and Peter, nothing loath, to test the quality of the 
 old Monongahela, proceeded at once to Mrs. Benham's 
 house. 
 
 Mr. TVade was not expert at communicating unpleasant 
 intelligence, but he succeeded, after a while, in making 
 Mr.?. Benham understand that her son was shot in the 
 lung, that the wound was serious, as all such wounds are, 
 though that there were strong hopes of his recover}', and 
 that it had been received in a contest with robbers, who 
 had contemplated an attack on the "Works, and that he was 
 comfortably housed under Dr. Green's roof at Lykens.
 
 380 OX THE SUSQUEHANXA. 
 
 "Dr. Arndell," he added, "has probably been detained in 
 getting his friend settled in his new quarters, but will 
 certainly be here in a short time. It is better for him 
 to tell the story in person than to send an outline by 
 telegraph." 
 
 Of course, Mrs. Benham was both surprised and grieved 
 at Mr. Wade's account, which was all the more a shock to 
 her, as she had had no idea that her son was in that part of 
 the country. She at once, without losing her presence of 
 mind, declared her intention of going by the next train to 
 Lykens. "There are many things," she said, "that my 
 boy will want done for him, that no one can do so well as 
 his mother. Alana, poor child, will have more trouble ! 
 Does she know yet ? " 
 
 "No; but I am going at once to tell her. Probably 
 she also will desire to go to Lykens. There is a train," he 
 continued, taking a time-table out of his pocket and 
 studying it a moment, "at two o'clock. You will have 
 time to get ready while I go to Alana. I would rather 
 some one else than I had this work to do." 
 
 "No one could do it more sympathizingly. I will join 
 you at her house immediately." 
 
 She left the room, to make her preparations for the 
 journey, while Mr. Wade started to go across the lawn, 
 when, hardly had he left the porch, than he saw Dr. Arn- 
 dell coming rapidly toward him. 
 
 " I have just met Mr. Gilchrist," said the doctor, hur- 
 riedly, " and he told me that he had given you some ac- 
 count of poor Benham's condition. I was on my way to 
 tell his mother. It is a bad wound, but he is doing well." 
 
 "I have already told her. She is going to him. Walk 
 with me to Miss Honey wood's, and tell me all about it." 
 
 As they went along, Arndell gave Mr. Wade all the 
 necessary particulars of his own and Benham's doings, so 
 far as he knew them. The old lawyer was rot a man to
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHANXA. 381 
 
 show much emotion, but he grasped the doctor's hand 
 warmly when the account was finished, and would have 
 thanked him in words had not his heart been too full for 
 utterance. He said something about Arndell being a hero, 
 and then the two separated, the doctor to go home, and 
 Mr. Wade to perform his mournful duty to Alana. 
 
 Rubina Priestley had gone home only a few minutes be- 
 fore, and he found Alana alone in the library, where she 
 had been awaiting him for an hour or more, trying in tho 
 mean time to occupy herself with a pile of new books that 
 had come to her that morning from Philadelphia, She 
 was a great reader, embracing in her range almost every 
 subject that did not belong to technical science, and espe- 
 cially fond of every branch of natural history. She had 
 been skimming through the several volnmes, merely for 
 the purpose of getting some idea of their scope, and had 
 begun to wonder why Mr. Wade did not come, when she 
 heard the front-door boll ring, and she at once surmised 
 that at last he had arrived. "Now/' she thought, as she 
 recognized his step in the hall, " this weight that has 
 rested here" placing her hands over her heart "ever 
 since my father's death, will bo lifted, and I shall not be 
 ashamed to look into the honest and manly face of my 
 husband, feeling that I am not unworthy of his love." At 
 that moment Mr. Wade entered the room. 
 
 He had a good deal of power over his emotional nature 
 when he chose to exercise it His profession had served to 
 give him expsrience in controlling his feelings, and he had 
 profited by the opportunity to such an extent that occa- 
 sionally, when he had been entirely cool and collected, 
 under circumstances that were calculated to cause the 
 strongest natures to give way, he had been called callous. 
 But he was not that, and no one knew it better than 
 Alana. 
 
 He came in with the bundle of papers that contained
 
 382 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 the facts that he relied upon to comfort Alana, while his 
 thoughts were busy with the task that he had set himself, 
 of breaking to her intelligence that he knew would make 
 her miserable. To face an unpleasant duty, and to go 
 through with it as soon as possible, was, however, a cardinal 
 feature of his character. 
 
 " My dear child," he said, after they had greeted each 
 other, "I told you yesterday that you might hope that the 
 idea of your mother's depravity, under which you had suf- 
 fered so long, is erroneous. I am now able to assure you, 
 by the most indubitable proofs, that, though she might 
 have been, and probably was, imprudent, she was not the 
 wicked woman you have been led to consider her. But 
 there is another matter of more immediate importance, 
 with which it is necessary you should be made acquainted. 
 Mr. Ben ham " 
 
 "Mr. Benham !" she exclaimed, interrupting him, while 
 she looked anxiously into his face "something has hap- 
 pened to him. Tell me at once ! I can bear it. He is not 
 dead. That I see in your countenance. I can endure any- 
 thing else. " 
 
 " No, he is not dead. He is wounded, but he is doing 
 well, -and Dr. Arndell expects him to recover." 
 
 "Yes, I know that he is grievously injured." Her 
 face became pale, her eyes were wide open and filled with 
 tears, but her voice was steady. "Tell me all about it," 
 she continued, "and then I shall go to him. My place is 
 with him." 
 
 Then he told her the story as he had heard it from 
 Arndell. 
 
 "It was for us that he got his wound, and it must be 
 our duty to bring him back to health. Of course you have 
 told his mother." 
 
 " Yes, his mother knows all. She will be ready to go 
 with you to Lykens at once."
 
 OX THE SUSQUEttOXA. 3 S3 
 
 " How she must suffer ! She loves him so dearly, and 
 is so proud of him. 1 * 
 
 " Yes, bat she is as brave as yon are, and as anxious 
 and as able to do her part in nursing him through his ffl- 
 
 "I shall be ready in a few minutes. 9 She left the 
 room as she spoke, and, gammoning her maid, went up- 
 stairs to get ready for the journey to Lykens, and, while 
 there, was joined by Mrs. Winebrenner, who, in some mys- 
 terious manner, had heard that something out of the way 
 had occurred. " How," said Alana, after she had told her 
 old friend the chief points of the affair in which Benham 
 and Arndell had been engaged, "you see how unjust you 
 were to the doctor, a few days ago, when you declared that 
 he had no good qualities. He has behaved like a hero, 
 and, if Mr. Benham gets well, he will owe his life to Dr. 
 Arndefl.-* 
 
 "You are not going to stay OTernight in Lykens?" 
 inquired Mrs. Winebrenner, ignoring Alana's remarks, so 
 far as any reply to them went. 
 
 "Yes, I expect to stay there till Mr. Benham is well 
 enough to be moved to his home." 
 
 "Wffl yon take Lucille with you ?" 
 
 "Xo, I can do without her. She can come to Lykens, 
 however, every day, and bring me such things as I require." 
 
 " You know nothing of nursing.'' 
 
 " You forget that I nursed my father." 
 
 "Yes, forgive me! I forgot that. But you were 
 stronger then than you are now." 
 
 "I am strong enough." 
 
 Mrs. Winebrenner left the room in search of Moses, 
 who was to wheel Alana's baggage to the station, and, in a 
 few minutes afterward, the maid was also relieved from fur- 
 ther attendance. There were yet ten minutes before it 
 would be necessary to leave the house, Alana locked her 
 IT
 
 384 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 bedroom-door, for these minutes she wanted for herself. 
 She wanted to think, to give herself up to the contempla- 
 tion of this last and greatest of her sorrows, to try to real- 
 ize her darling's condition, to picture to herself his pale 
 face, his labored breathing, all that there was that showed 
 that his life hung by a thread that at any moment might 
 break. She tried to keep back her tears, but she might as 
 well have endeavored to stay the current of the broad river 
 that flowed past her windows. " Oh, my love ! " she 
 cried, bursting into a paroxysm of passionate weeping, as 
 with clasped hands and heaving bosom she threw herself 
 on the bed. " What if he should die ! My love, my love ! 
 My true-hearted love ! My noble, my brave, my generous 
 love ! You have risked your life for me. It may be that 
 you have sacrificed it in your attempt to clear my name 
 from shame ! May God take me also, if it comes to that ! " 
 
 Then she rose, and, dashing some cold water into her 
 face, tried to obliterate the traces of weeping. "I will 
 shed no more tears," she said. "They will only unfit me 
 for the work I have to do." 
 
 She went down-stairs to the library, where she found 
 Mrs. Benham awaiting her. Accompanied by Mr. "Wade, 
 the two ladies went to the station, where they were joined 
 by Dr. Arndell, who was returning to Lykcns not only to 
 see after Benham, but to attend the coroner's inquest to bo 
 held that afternoon on the bodies of the dead robbers, and 
 at which he would be the chief if not the only witness, for 
 it was scarcely possible that Benham's evidence could be 
 taken. He knew that Alana could never be his wife ; not 
 even, probably, if Benham died. In that event, he felt 
 certain that no man would ever call her wife, but he had 
 never felt happier than when, in a few simple words, she 
 thanked him for what he had done, and held out her hand 
 to him. He took it in his, and she allowed him to hold it 
 longer than he had ever held it before. Each knew eomc-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHASXA. SS5 
 
 thing of what the other was thinking about, and each knew 
 that they were friends while they should live. 
 
 Then, both she and Mrs. Benham plied him with ques- 
 tions about the affair, and more particularly about his 
 friend's wound, till, by the time they arrived at Lykens, 
 they had obtained all the knowledge and all the opinions 
 on the subject that he was capable of giving. He spoke 
 cheerfully of the injury, and while not seeking to disguise 
 its serious character, or the possibility that it might ter- 
 minate fatally, expressed the strongest hope, based upon 
 what he knew of Benham's excellent constitution, his in- 
 domitable courage, and his strength of will, that he would 
 have an easy course to complete recovery. 
 
 '"Besides," he added, "he has every inducement to 
 live, and that is a great deal in a fight such as he is about 
 to make. Then, with such good nursing as he is likely to 
 get, and a medical supervision that will mainly consist in 
 letting him alone, his chances can not but be increased. 
 One thing, however, I must impress upon you, and that is, 
 don't say or do anything that is calculated to excite him. 
 There was no hemorrhage when I left him, and if he can 
 be kept perfectly quiet it will probably not return." 
 
 " I think you may rely on oar powers of control,** caid 
 Mrs. Benham. 
 
 'He ought not to speak above a whisper," continued 
 the doctor. "And another thing,'* he went on, " don't 
 be alarmed if you find him feverish, and even a little deliri- 
 ous. The reaction had fairly begun when I left him, and 
 is doubtless at its height now." 
 
 And such they found to be the case. Arriving at Ly- 
 kens, and proceeding to Dr. Green's, they were told by the 
 doctor that Benham was quite oat of his head, but that 
 otherwise matters were progressing favorably. His fever 
 was high, but not inordinately so, and it appeared to be 
 the fever of reaction rather than that of inflammation.
 
 386 ON THE SUSQUEHANXA. 
 
 Both the women needed all their powers of self-control, 
 when they looked at the son and lover lying, with flushed 
 face and parched skin, breathing laboriously, and mutter- 
 ing to himself something of which only the words '' moth- 
 er" and "Alana "were distinguishable, but they retained 
 the command of themselves, and went about the work 
 they had to do as methodically as though they had been 
 used to it all their lives. Both quietly, in turn, pressed 
 their lips to his burning forehead, but he made no sign 
 that he had any knowledge of the caress, other than to 
 open his half-closed eyes and look at his mother and at 
 Alana, as though endeavoring to make out who they were 
 and what they, had done. 
 
 He had a restless night of it. Dr. Arndell did not re- 
 turn to the Works, but remained at the bedside of his 
 friend, watching every phase of the fever, and pouring the 
 quinine into the patient after a manner that his army ex- 
 perience had shown him was expedient, but which almost 
 made Dr. Green's hair stand on end. Nevertheless, the 
 result, as exhibited in the improved condition of the suf- 
 ferer the next morning, fully justified the practice, and Dr. 
 Green was willing to admit that he had learned a lesson. 
 
 There were no violent demonstrations of affection be- 
 tween the two women and Benham. He recognized them 
 at about daylight as they moved to and fro in the room, 
 attending to his needs, and when his mother came to the 
 bedside he stretched out his hand, and, taking hers, raised 
 it to his lips. 
 
 "I have been trying for some time," he said, in a low 
 whisper, " to make out who you were ; but now I know, 
 and the other is Alana." 
 
 " Yes, my dear boy, it is Alana. She is afraid to speak 
 to you, lest you may be excited. The doctor told us that 
 we should not talk to you." 
 
 "Tell her to come here."
 
 ON THE SUSQUZHA: 3S7 
 
 Jfrs. Benham delivered the message, but ALina hesi- 
 tated. She soon saw, however, that there was more dan- 
 ger of undue excitement from the denial of his request, 
 than from a compliance with it ; so she crossed the floor to 
 his bedside. 
 
 "Don't speak,** she and, as she drew near to him. 
 " Oh, my darling," as she knelt on the floor, and kissed 
 his lips, and laid her face against his still fevered cheek, 
 " you wifl get well for me. God wfll not let yon die ! " 
 
 He threw his arms around her, and held her trembling 
 in his embrace. "Yes," he whispered, "I shall get welL 
 Whatever the doctors may say, I feel that the crisis is 
 
 " Hush ! " she exclaimed, " I mnst go now." She rose 
 to her feet, and at the instant the two physicians entered 
 the room. Each in tnrn felt the patient's pnlse and 
 counted his respirations. Then they ascertained the tem- 
 perature, and, finally asking him a few questions, they re- 
 tired to a corner of the room to consult over the case. 
 After a few minutes they beckoned Mrs. Benham and 
 Alans to them, and Dr. Arndell delivered their joint 
 medical opinion. It was the first deliberate expression of 
 views that they had yet had from the doctors. 
 
 " Yesterday," he said, "after Benham was made com- 
 fortable, we made a thorough examination of the wound. 
 We found that the ball had passed through the upper part 
 of the right lung, without breaking the ribs, and was 
 lying under the skin opposite to its entrance, whence it can 
 be easily removed. It does no harm where it is, and it is 
 better not to cut it out at present To-day we find his 
 condition favorable. His fever is within safe bounds, and 
 we shall try to keep it so. He is by no means out of dan- 
 ger, nor will he be, under any circumstances, for several 
 days to come. His strength must be kept up, for when he 
 was shot his vital powers were low, owing to the exposure
 
 388 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 and hardship and excitement-of the past twenty-four hours. 
 He will need careful nursing, and, in order that he may get 
 that, and you ladies not become exhausted, you must take 
 charge of him in turns, relieving each other every six 
 hours. Either Dr. Green or myself will see him several 
 times a day, and one of us will always be within call. 
 Now, I want you both to go into the next room, which Mrs. 
 Green has placed at your disposal, and lie down. You 
 need sleep. I shall stay with him till ten o'clock, and 
 then you, Miss Honeywood, will get your instructions, and 
 will look after the patient, under Dr. Green's supervision, 
 till five o'clock, when Mrs. Benham will take charge, and 
 I shall be again on hand. Now, go and get some sleep. 
 We don't want three patients on our hands." After a few 
 more words of explanation and inquiry, the two ladies left 
 the room. They were fatigued, of course, but interest and 
 excitement had kept them from feeling tired. Dr. Arn- 
 dell's words had relieved their minds, and they were soon 
 asleep. 
 
 As Dr. Arndell was on his way to the station, he met a 
 wagon containing three coarsely made coffins. The driver 
 informed him that they held the bodies of the three rob- 
 bers that were about to be buried. The day before, the 
 coroner's jury had found a verdict to the effect that these 
 men had been justly killed by Dr. Arndell, and had com- 
 mended him highly for the great service he had rendered 
 the Commonwealth.
 
 CHAPTEK XXVIII. 
 
 IT was not until two or three weeks after the reception 
 of his wound, that Benham had sufficiently recovered to 
 make it safe to move him to his own home. During that 
 period there had been two serious relapses, but, upon the 
 whole, no very untoward symptoms had arisen. His moth- 
 er and Alana had been in constant attendance on him, 
 though each had made several visits of short duration to 
 the Works. During the latter part of the period of his 
 stay at Lykens, he had been allowed to sit up for a portion 
 of the day, and to converse and to read and to be read to ; 
 and this, he said, was, in spite of his illness, the happiest 
 period of his life. Indeed, he was never tired of express- 
 ing his thanks to them for their unwearying kindness, 
 their unflagging devotion. "Of course, mother," he said, 
 '' I knew what you would do for your son. I had a right 
 to your devotion ; but how many women in Alana's posi- 
 tion would have left everything, as she has done, and have 
 placed herself by the sick-bed of a man, even if she were 
 engaged to be married to him ? " 
 
 " What's that you're saying about me ? " inquired 
 Alana, coming forward from a table at which she was heat- 
 ing something with a spirit-lamp. He repeated the ob- 
 servation, making it even stronger than before. 
 
 "I think you are mistaken," she said, still going on 
 with her heating operation. "Any well-ordered young 
 woman, such as I pretend to be, would have done exactly 
 as I did, and without being entitled to any special con-
 
 390 ON THE SUSQUEHANXA. 
 
 sideration for so doing. People don't deserve credit for 
 doing what is agreeable to them, do they ? Of course 
 not ! " answering the question herself. " There are many 
 heartless women, as there are many heartless men. If you 
 had been one of the latter class, I am quite sure that I 
 should have been one of the former, and then," coming 
 toward the bed with a little Dresden china- vessel in her 
 hand, "I am equally certain that I should not have been 
 here now, making beef-tea for your lordship." 
 
 "Nor would I have such an exquisite bowl to eat it out 
 of, either. Every day I see some beautiful thing in silver, 
 or china, or other material, that I have not seen before. 
 To-day it is this tureen, with the Watteau medallions. 
 Yesterday it was the repousse lamp, the day before that 
 this eider-down quilt. What will it be to-morrow, dear ? " 
 
 "This," she answered, taking from the pocket of her 
 frock a letter, and proceeding to open it. "I received it 
 this morning from Mr. Wade." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; he hasn't been here for two or three days, 
 has he?" 
 
 "No, but he's coming to-morrow, and Dr. Arndell says 
 you are well enough now to hear something very important 
 that Mr. Wade has to say. It is something, I think, that 
 will make you very happy, even if only because it will 
 make me happy. Dear John ! it is the unraveling of the 
 whole mystery of my mother, and of the woman-impostor 
 that came to me the night before you went away." 
 
 "Yes, if it makes you happy, it will rejoice me also. 
 It makes no difference, otherwise. If you were " 
 
 "Hush !" she said, smiling, and playfully putting her 
 hand over his mouth. " I know what you are going to say, 
 but it does make a difference, for all that. Do you know," 
 she went on, changing the subject of conversation, "that 
 the course of justice is very much impeded by your illness ? 
 Neither my uncle, nor Jinks the robber, nor your three
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAyyA. 391 
 
 forge-men, hare yet been tried, owing to the inability to 
 * get your evidence." 
 
 "I wish the whole thing could be dropped." 
 
 " Yes, so do I ; but that is impossible, I suppose. 77 
 
 " Quite impossible, unless we both run away, and take 
 Dr. Arndefl with us." 
 
 " I think he would be very glad to go with you, any- 
 where." 
 
 "He has twice saved my life. Some of these. days, 
 perhaps, I will tell you something that will make you 
 form a still more exalted idea of him than any yon hare 
 now." 
 
 "I think I understand," said Alana, quietly, "all that 
 you mean to imply. He has acted very nobly." 
 
 " He knows what I think of him. A more unselfish, 
 and, withal, a more determined man, never lived. " r 
 
 The following day, by one of the early trains, Mr. Wade 
 arrived. It was the first time that Benham had been al- 
 lowed to sit up, and he had that morning been told that he 
 might return home the day after to-morrow, if no untoward 
 symptom should in the mean time make its appearance. 
 He was still weak, he was of scarcely more than half his 
 former weight, but it was thought, by both the physicians, 
 that the change would be of service to him. 
 
 "You may wonder," said Mr. Wade, almost as soon as 
 he entered the room in which Benham was sitting, with a 
 bright December sun shining in at the window and bathing 
 him in its warmth "yon may wonder where I have been 
 for the last few days." 
 
 " Yes," said Alana, " we were talking of it yesterday." 
 
 " I have been to Philadelphia. I was sent for by Mrs. 
 L'Estrange, which, as you know, is only one of her many 
 names. She had important information to give me, so she 
 said. It is important, but I could have done very well 
 without it Nevertheless, it is confirmatory of all that I
 
 302 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 have otherwise received. I heard her through, received 
 from her what papers she had to give me, and then I left 
 her, arriving home night before last. Before I went away, 
 she begged that I would ask you, my dear, to forgive her 
 the wrong that she attempted to do you. " 
 
 " It is easy for me to do that," answered Alana. " I 
 forgive her freely. I wish I could help her to be a good 
 woman." 
 
 " She was to have been tried to-day for the part she 
 took in the great diamond robbery. But she is now be- 
 yond your forgiveness and the jurisdiction of courts, for a. 
 few hours after I left her she was found dead in her 
 cell." 
 
 "Dead !" exclaimed all three of his listeners. 
 
 "Yes, dead. The Philadelphia papers of yesterday 
 morning contain accounts of the matter. Here is one of 
 them," 
 
 '"The notorious Sarah Lammy,'" he read, '"with 
 half a dozen aliases, was found dead in her cell in the 
 county jail yesterday afternoon. She had received, at her 
 request, a visit from Mr. Wade, of Harrisburg, and at one 
 o'clock took her dinner as usual. She walked in the cor- 
 ridor till late in the afternoon. At five, when the matron 
 came to make her usual inspection, Sarah Lammy was just 
 breathing her last. Dr. Hanson, the prison physician, was 
 immediately summoned, but before he arrived she was 
 dead. There is little doubt that she died of heart-disease. 
 She had had several attacks of shortness of breath since her 
 incarceration. A post-mortem examination will be made 
 to-dav. She was to have been tried this morning, for the 
 great diamond robbery, that she carried out so successfully 
 about a month ago. She has passed the greater part of her 
 life in prison, her first term being for shop-lifting when she 
 was only sixteen years old.' 
 
 "I may add," continued Mr. Wade, "that I at once
 
 OS THE SUSQUEHASS A. 393 
 
 telegraphed for farther information, and was informed, in 
 reply, that the post-mortem examination showed, beyond a 
 doubt, that heart-disease was the cause of her death." 
 
 "Poor woman!" said Alana, "I am sorry for her. 
 There was something about her that was Toy attractive, 
 Terr winning, in fact. I felt almost irresistibly drawn 
 toward her the night she came to see me." 
 
 "Yes," replied Mr. Wade, "it was that feature that 
 made her such a dangerous character. Bat, my dear, yon 
 should scarcely be sorry that she is gone. Her death is a 
 relief to herself, as it certainly should be to all of us. 
 Now, if it would please Providence to take Todd also, an- 
 other person who encumbers the earth, and inconveniences, 
 to say the least, honest people, it would be a blessing for 
 which I for one should be profoundly thankful." 
 
 "I don't think you, or any of us, will be troubled by 
 Todd," said Benham. "He will, in all probability, pan 
 the rest of his days in the Eastern Penitentiary, and will 
 be, to all intents and purposes, dead." 
 
 "These doctors are curious fellows," said Mr. Wade, 
 apparently diverted for the moment from the chief object 
 of his visit, by a thought that had suddenly come into his 
 mind. " There isn't anything they wont do in the pursuit 
 of science, from experimenting with the head of a guillotined 
 man, to analyzing the sensations of a man with death star- 
 ing him in the face. Xow, there's Arndell*' 
 
 "Don't say anything against ArndeU," said Benham, 
 smiling, but still earnestly. " Everything he does is right 
 in my eyes." 
 
 "Oh, I was not going to say anything against him. 
 But what do yon suppose he's doing ? " 
 
 "Something for the benefit of humanity, I suppose," 
 answered Alana. "He's the kindest man to the poor I 
 ever knew." 
 
 "Yea, I suppose so," rejoined Mr. Wade, hesitatingly,
 
 394: ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 drawling the words out of his mouth as though each one 
 required a separate thought. "But, it's my deliberate 
 opinion, based on a very careful study of doctors, that they 
 don't care any more for the poor, or for humanity in gen- 
 eral, than I do, and that isn't much, I assure you. As to 
 Dr. Arndell, I believe that for humanity, in the abstract, 
 he has the most supreme contempt. He and others like 
 him are willing to help humanity, but they do it for the 
 sake of their science, not from any lore for the human 
 species. Of course, the race is benefited, for whatever ad- 
 vances medical science helps mankind, but that is not the 
 primary object of the doctors." 
 
 "I, for one, don't care to draw such refined distinc- 
 tions as that," said Benham. "But what started you in 
 this line?" 
 
 "I have just left Dr. Arndell hard at work in his libra- 
 ry, preparing a set of questions he designs putting to you 
 this afternoon, relative to your sensations and thoughts as 
 you lay in the wagon the morning that the robbers carried 
 you off, and when they were discussing the question of 
 what disposition to make of you ; what you thought of the 
 proposition to give you a hundred lashes ; what of the sug- 
 gestion to tie you, neck and heels, and throw you out on 
 the road ; and what of the agreement to kill you on the 
 edge of your grave, etc., etc. Oh, he has worked the mat- 
 ter up very thoroughly, I assure you ! Ugh ! it makes my 
 blood run cold to think of it all." 
 
 "I don't see why it should," said Benham, laughing 
 heartily, in spite of his weakness, though both his mother 
 and Alana looked grave. "I've often analyzed them my- 
 self, not only since then, but while the events were going 
 on, from the time I felt myself seized by Rackett, till I 
 heard Arndell's pistol-shots, and felt a stinging feeling in 
 my chest. I shall be fully prepared to answer all his ques- 
 tions. It was quite an era in my captivity when I deter-
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 395 
 
 mined to drop the envelope through a crack in the wagon- 
 bed. If I could go through such a process of introspection 
 and self-examination for my own satisfaction, I don't see 
 why science should not hare the benefit of it also." 
 
 " That's right, John," said Alana. 
 
 "You wouldn't like to read Dr. Arndell's memoir, 
 would you ? " inquired Mr. Wade. 
 
 "Xo, I should not like to read it," she replied ; "for 
 my feelings are too deeply interested. I should not like to 
 witness a surgical operation either, but I can understand 
 that such things are necessary. I suppose Dr. Arndell 
 knows that a study of the kind is valuable, otherwise he 
 would not wish to have the results. I am willing to be 
 guided by him." 
 
 'You seem to have every confidence in the doctor, 
 even to " 
 
 " To any extent," interrupted Alana, warmly. " There 
 is only one man in all the world who stands before him in 
 my heart." 
 
 Benham smiled an appro vaL 
 
 "Well, well !" cried Mr. Wade, raising his hands in a 
 deprecatory manner. "I had no intention of upsetting a 
 hornet's nest about my ears. Doubtless, if even the doc- 
 tor does come next after Benham, the distance between the 
 two is sufficiently great." 
 
 "And you come next. Almost on the same plane," 
 said Alana, laying her hand on his arm. "You know I 
 have loved you ever since I knew you." 
 
 " I believe you have, my dear," resumed the old man. 
 "lvalue your affection above most things that belong to 
 me, and I am not complaining. You are right to place 
 Dr. Arndell high in your regard. Now, let us proceed, as 
 they say in the Legislature, to the order of the day." 
 
 With these words Mr. Wade moved his chair to a table 
 that stood in the center of the room, and, taking from the
 
 S96 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 breast-pocket of bis coat a bundle of papers, laid it down 
 in front of him. Then he wiped his glasses, and, seeing 
 that he had the undivided attention of the three persons 
 constituting his audience, thus began : 
 
 " I have so thoroughly mastered these documents, con- 
 sisting of telegrams, statements, notes, and letters, that I 
 think I can give you a better idea of their purport if, instead 
 of reading from them or referring to them, I should give a 
 connected account of what they prove. The papers will 
 always be on hand at any future time for reference, as I 
 shall, when I have made my statement, give them to Alana 
 for safe-keeping. I shall, it is perhaps scarcely necessary 
 to say, indulge in no hypotheses or inferences. There is 
 ample proof of the truth of every assertion I shall make : 
 
 "In the autumn of 1855, Mr. Francis Honeywood, 
 then twenty years of age, was a student in the Scientific 
 School of the University of Pennsylvania. On the night of 
 the 15th of October, 1855, he and two other students, a 
 married man and his wife, and two young women, in all 
 making a party of seven, went to a tavern at the Falls of 
 Schuylkill to take supper. One of the young women was 
 Sarah Mullin, a daughter of the woman with whom Mr. 
 Honeywood boarded. Mrs. Mullin had three other children 
 a daughter named Susan, a year younger than Sarah, who 
 had not lived at home for several years, on account of the 
 fact that she was serving out a term of imprisonment in 
 the penitentiary for shop-lifting (Mr. Honeywood did not 
 know that such a woman existed) ; a son named Alexan- 
 der, also a disreputable fellow, and who rarely came to his 
 mother's house ; and another son named William, likewise 
 a bad character, who was killed by a policeman in 1864. 
 
 Sarah was not a bad woman, though by no means as 
 perfect as she ought to have been. She was a member, in 
 good standing, of a church, and her clergyman, in a state- 
 ment that I have here, gives her a good character. The
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHASXA. .397 
 
 worst that can be said against her is, that she deliberately 
 entered into a scheme to inveigle Mr. Honeywood into a 
 marriage with her, but she professed to be sincerely at- 
 tached to him, and probably was. The fact that he was 
 not of age, while she was thirty years old, is an unfortunate 
 state of facts. She was an extremely beautiful woman, 
 and possessed of more education than might have been ex- 
 pected. 
 
 Well, the party of which Mr. Honeywood and Miss 
 Sarah Mullin were members, went to the Falls of Schuyl- 
 kill for an evening's enjoyment. It was seven o'clock when 
 they arrived there. They engaged a private room, and had 
 supper. 
 
 " So far as I can learn, all the members of this party 
 were respectable people. I don't mean to say that the mar- 
 ried man was a gentleman, as we understand the word, or 
 that the women were ladies, but, for all that, the evidence 
 goes to show thai they were certainly not disreputable. 
 They were all, however, in high spirits, and the tavern- 
 keeper seeing this, and also perceiving that the young men 
 had money enough to pay for it. plied them with wine. 
 The consequence was, that they all became more or less 
 intoxicated." 
 
 Mr. Wade stopped for a moment. Then he turned to 
 Alana. 
 
 "My dear," he said, "what I have to say further will 
 be painful to you, but it can not well be left untold. You 
 most bear these facts in mind. Your father was young, 
 his sin was one into which he was led by others. He bit- 
 terly repented, and he was severely punished." 
 
 .'' she answered, "it was expiated in this world, 
 and is doubtless forgiven by a merciful God. We are all 
 of one family here. There is nothing that concerns me 
 that the man who is shortly to be my husband, and the 
 woman who is his mother, may not hear."
 
 398 ON THE SUSQUEHANXA. 
 
 " That is very sensibly said," remarked Mr. Wade, look- 
 ing over his papers. " Then I will go on : 
 
 " Though intoxicated, they were by no means in the 
 last stage of drunkenness, and, in fact, several of them 
 were only in a state of undue hilarity. Mr. Honeywood, 
 who had never been in the habit of drinking, was more 
 affected than any of the others ; and, according to the 
 sworn declarations of two of the surviving witnesses, him- 
 self proposed that he should marry Miss Mullin, and that 
 the ceremony should be performed at once. 
 
 " Of course the others should not have allowed such an 
 act to take place, but they felt the recklessness that comes 
 from incipient drunkenness, and they entered fully into 
 the spirit of the occasion. An old clergyman, who also 
 ought to have known better, was sent for, came and per- 
 formed the ceremony. The certificate of that marriage was 
 made out, was witnessed, and is here with the other papers. 
 
 "Thus far you will perceive that the account agrees 
 very closely with the story told by Mrs. L'Estrange, the 
 night that she paid a visit to the Works. From this time 
 on she proves a prominent personage in the drama. 
 
 " Mr. Honeywood and his wife did not return to Phila- 
 delphia for several days. When he became sober, however, 
 he insisted that he had not been married, but he expressed 
 his readiness to have the ceremony performed. Mrs. 
 Honeywood, as she must properly be called, insisted that 
 she was already his wife, and that a marriage would be an 
 acknowledgment of guilt that she had not incurred. There 
 is no doubt that both parties were honest in their opinions, 
 and they held to them with a degree of obstinacy that, 
 under the circumstances, was remarkable. 
 
 " When the time came for Mrs. Honeywood to become 
 a mother, her husband, still denying that he was her hus- 
 band, endeavored by every means in his power to get her 
 to consent to be married, but she showed him the certifi-
 
 OX THE SUSQUF.HANyA. 399 
 
 cate, and brought him other evidence that a legal marriage 
 had already been performed. This he denied, declaring 
 that, even if the ceremony had been performed, he had not 
 been at the time in a condition to understand the nature 
 and consequences of his act, and that he would never rec- 
 ognize the validity of what he stigmatized as a fraudulent 
 performance. All things considered, it was deemed best 
 that Mrs. Honeywood should go into the country until 
 after her child should be born. It was thought, by the 
 friends of both parties, that, after that event, an agree- 
 ment could be reached. If not, it was determined by Mrs. 
 Honeywood that she would appeal to the law. She went, 
 as these papers show, to the house of a farmer, named Wil- 
 son, who lived a mile or so from Media, in Delaware 
 County ; and there, my dear child," turning to Alana, 
 " you were born. A few hours afterward your mother was 
 dead." 
 
 " Dead ! " cried Alana, rising, and approaching Mr. 
 Wade. " Dead then ! at at my birth ? Then she was 
 cruelly wronged ! '' 
 
 " Yes, I think she was. All the evidence in my pos- 
 session, and there is plenty of it, goes to show that, except 
 in the one act of marrying your father when he was not in 
 a condition to know what he was doing, she had led a 
 blameless life. You will find several letters of hers among 
 these papers, and in them she pleads the sincerity of her 
 love for your father as her excuse." 
 
 "But I do not understand," said Alana, excitedly. 
 ' My father, on his death-bed, denounced her as a wicked 
 woman, one that had deserted me, and abandoned him for 
 a life of shame. How is that ? My father could not have 
 spoken falsely." 
 
 "All that your father said, he believed to be true, but 
 at the same time it was not true. Now comes the worst 
 part of the whole matter.
 
 400 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 " A few days before your birth, Mrs. Mullin died, and at 
 about the same time Susan Mullin, who had been in prison, 
 was discharged, in consequence of the expiration of the term 
 for which she had been sentenced. Her mother, as I have said, 
 had just died, and she determined to join Mrs. Honey wood 
 at the farmer's house near Media. Your mother received 
 her coolly, but Susan was a specious woman. She stated 
 that she had reformed, and with tears in her eyes entreated 
 that she might be allowed to remain, and finally she gained 
 her point. She had her good traits, she was kind to your 
 mother in her illness, and she promised to care for you till 
 your father could take charge of you. 
 
 "But, very soon after your poor mother was laid in her 
 grave, she began to form a deeply laid scheme to deceive 
 Mr. Honeywood. She paid Wilson a sum of money to 
 write a letter to him to the effect that all was going on 
 well, with the exception of the fact that Miss Susan Mul- 
 lin, while on a visit to her sister, had died almost at the 
 very time that his child was born. Your father made in- 
 quiries, and discovered circumstances in regard to Susan 
 Mullin, of whose existence he had previously been unaware, 
 that caused him to rejoice that she was dead. 
 
 " In the course of about a month Susan departed, tak- 
 ing you with her, and agreeing to pay Wilson and his wife 
 each a small annuity so long as they lived, on condition 
 that they adhered to the story that your mother was still 
 alive. She continued to pay them regularly till she died. 
 Wilson and his wife are still alive. I have seen them, 
 talked with them, and have their affidavits here." 
 
 "Now I understand," resumed Alana ; "and that wom- 
 an was my aunt ? " 
 
 "Yes, she was your aunt. Mrs. L'Estrange, Sarah 
 Lammy, and by whatever other alias she was known, was 
 Susan Mullin." 
 
 " Don't distress yourself about it, dear," said Benham.
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 401 
 
 " Think what has been gained for your mother by these 
 inquiries ! You have a right to revere her memory now." 
 
 She made no reply, save by a look that was as express- 
 ive of what she felt as any words could have been, and, 
 after Mrs, Benham had, without speaking, kissed her, Mr. 
 Wade continued his recital. 
 
 "She, Susan Mullin, went away from Wilson's, taking 
 you with her ; but, on arriving at Media, she met an old 
 acquaintance, a man with whom she had formerly been 
 unduly intimate, and he persuaded her to abandon you, 
 and to enter with him into a scheme that was being con- 
 cocted to perpetrate a robbery. You were therefore sent 
 in the night to the Delaware County almshouse, and Susan 
 Mullin wrote a letter to Mrs. Wilson to that effect. When, 
 therefore, your father came to the house, he was told a 
 story that it had been arranged should be told, and was in- 
 formed of your whereabout. After that time you were 
 properly cared for. 
 
 "All the accounts agree in saying that the resemblance 
 between the two sisters your mother and your aunt was 
 very great. There was but a year's difference in their ages, 
 so that Susan had no difficulty in passing herself off as 
 Sarah. It was then that your father heard from various 
 sources of her continued degradation, and it was then that, 
 in order to avoid disgrace, he began the payment of an al- 
 lowance in accordance with his means, on condition that 
 she should not call herself by his name. She had no desire 
 to pass for his wife. He was poor, she had more liberty as 
 Sarah Mullin than she would have had as Mrs. Honeywood, 
 and she mulcted him in the half of his income, given on 
 condition that she kept away from him. He paid it will- 
 ingly. She went lower and lower, and was several times 
 in prison, for various offenses, Her life was as foul as 
 was possible, and all this time he thought she was yonr 
 mother."
 
 402 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 <: Ah, that is the worst of all ! " exclaimed Alana. 
 " How keen must have been my poor father's sufferings all 
 this time, up to the very hour of his death ! " 
 
 "Yes ; and yet it is difficult to understand how a mail 
 of his great force of character should have allowed himself 
 to be deceived. It can only be accounted for on the pre- 
 sumption that he knew he had not been free from blame, 
 and that he shrank from exposing his private affairs to 
 public gaze the same source that causes many others to 
 submit to extortion and black-mail. 
 
 "Doubtless the fear that the slightest inquiry would 
 reveal her fraudulent conduct prevented Susan Mullin 
 from taking legal proceedings against your father looking 
 to the establishment of her claim, to be his wife. She con- 
 tented herself with threats, and, as they proved sufficient 
 to secure her a comfortable income, free from all the 
 doubts that attended her other sources of pecuniary sup- 
 ply, she was content for a long time several years, in 
 fact. 
 
 "But, finally, she became more intimate than she had 
 heretofore been with her brother Alexander. This man, 
 the Todd of to-day, had received a tolerably good English 
 education, and had been an alderman in the city of New 
 York. But his inclinations were all vicious, and, having 
 considerable natural sharpness, he was enabled to make 
 effective use of them in furthering his schemes. His trade 
 was that of a bricklayer, but he had, for several years, 
 given it up for more uncertain means of livelihood. Todd 
 saw at once that in his sister Susan he had a factor for 
 coercing Mr. Honeywood that had not yet been employed 
 to its utmost extent, and he determined, with her aid, to 
 work it in such a manner as to develop its full power. 
 The business was one that he saw would require the united 
 wits and the most thorough industry of both of them, so 
 he devoted a considerable amount of time to the prepara-
 
 OX THE SU3QUEHAXXA. 403 
 
 tion of an elaborate scheme. This he reduced to writing. 
 Two copies were made, of which he had one, and Susan, 
 alias Sarah Mullin, the other. It was this latter that iliss 
 Pink found, and which is now in my possession."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 As Mr. "Wade uttered the concluding words of the im- 
 mediately preceding chapter, he turned over the papers on 
 the table and took from the pile two memorandum-books. 
 
 " One of these," he said, " belonged to Mrs. L'Estrange, 
 as she called herself on the night that she visited the 
 Works, and the other one was the property of her brother 
 Alexander, now in the Dauphin County Jail. They agree 
 exactly, and, so far as perspicuity and shrewdness are ex- 
 hibited, would do credit to a general laying out the plan 
 of a campaign. 
 
 "In the first place, it was settled that the claim that a 
 marriage existed between Francis Honeywood and Sarah 
 Mullin should not be pressed beyond the point necessary 
 to make him pay a handsome annuity. Although the 
 marriage could undoubtedly be proved, the process of 
 doing so would certainly rouse Mr. Honeywood into a 
 spirit of active resistance. He had kept track of the life 
 of the supposed Sarah Mullin, and would never consent to 
 recognize her as his wife. The investigation that would be 
 instituted by his legal counsel in case a trial should be had, 
 would inevitably lead to the exposure of the plot, to the 
 discovery of Sarah Mullin's death, and to the revelation 
 of the false personation made by Susan. Mr. Honeywood 
 must be frightened, but not angered beyond his powers of 
 endurance. 
 
 "At first they contented themselves by announcing to 
 him that they had concluded to accept the proposition
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHAXNA. 405 
 
 made by him to Sarah Mullin several years previously, that 
 a new marriage should take place. This, however, he in- 
 dignantly refused, and at the same time denied vehemently 
 that there had ever been a marriage. He said, in his let- 
 ter to Susan, still under the impression, remember, that he 
 was writing to Sarah, that her conduct had been so atro- 
 cious, so utterly depraved, that he would rather his daugh- 
 ter should bear the stain of illegitimacy than that such a 
 wretch as she should have the right to stand in the relation 
 legally of mother to his daughter, and perhaps even to en- 
 deavor to undermine her goodness. These are almost his 
 exact words. His letter is here, with several others writ- 
 ten by him at different times, to a like effect." 
 
 Tears started to Alana's eyes, as she thought of the 
 plots that had been directed against her father, and of the 
 suffering he had endured, but she said nothing. She dared 
 not, in fact, trust herself to speak, lest she should give 
 way altogether. Benham held out his hand to her, and 
 she laid hers in it, and sat thus, while Mr. TVade went on 
 with his story : 
 
 "But, although he wrote thus indignantly, Mr. Honey- 
 wood thought it the better plan to yield to the demands 
 made on him for money, under threat of a suit at law to 
 establish the validity of his marriage with Sarah Mullin. 
 The two confederates had a strong card, and they knew it, 
 but it was one that required to be played with great cau- 
 tion, for, if they endeavored to use it for more than it was 
 worth, the victim might rebel, and then all would be lost 
 They, therefore, accepted the sum of two thousand dollars, 
 which was to be paid yearly to Susan, alias Sarah Mullin, 
 in quarterly installments, and it was so paid regularly dur- 
 ing about five years. 
 
 "Throughout all this period the woman continued her 
 life of shame and degradation, and was several times sub- 
 jected to imprisonment. Your father, however, took no
 
 406 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 notice of her, other than to send her the money that he 
 had agreed to pay her. He was glad enough to be free 
 from her on those terms. 
 
 " Then came the resolution to extort a still larger sum 
 from your father. He had never seen the woman that per- 
 sonated his wife, although this was from no action of hers. 
 She was so confident that she could deceive him, through 
 her resemblance to her sister, and her acquaintance with 
 her history, that she had often endeavored to obtain a per- 
 sonal interview. She was sure of her ability to squeeze 
 more money out of him if she could only be brought face 
 to face with him. She had never, however, been able to 
 accomplish her purpose, for he had steadfastly refused to 
 see her. I am inclined to think," added Mr. "Wade, dryly, 
 "that in this instance she reckoned without her host, and 
 that had your father consented to see her he would at once 
 have perceived that she was an impostor. 
 
 "It was resolved," he continued, after a readjustment 
 of the papers on the table, " that a visit should be paid to 
 your father at the Works. So, accompanied by her brother 
 Alexander, Susan made the journey. He called on Mr. 
 Honeywood, while she remained at the tavern. I believe, 
 my dear, you were present at the interview between your 
 father and this man. It was a stormy one, but it resulted 
 in the increase of the annuity from two to three thousand 
 dollars. Mr. Honeywood persisted in his refusal to see the 
 woman, and she was therefore obliged to leave without ac- 
 complishing this part of her scheme. 
 
 "They were, however, made to understand that there 
 would be no further augmentation of the annuity, and 
 that if any demand for an increase were made the payment 
 would at once be stopped, and they might proceed to law 
 if they chose. They were satisfied that they had exhausted 
 your father's powers of compliance, and for about ten 
 years they remained quiet, so far as he was concerned.
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 407 
 
 During this period Susan lived in various parts of the 
 United States, and for the latter part of it in Montreal, 
 Canada. All through this time she drew the allowance 
 regularly, the checks being made out in favor of Sarah 
 Mullin, and she indorsing them with that name, though, as 
 was usual with her, she bore several aliates. Then your 
 father died. 
 
 "As we all know, nothing was heard of her for over 
 two years. She made no demand for money, nor did she 
 reveal herself to us in any other way. There were two rea- 
 sons for this. In the first place, she was in prison in 
 Canada, having been sentenced to two years' confinement in 
 the Befonnatory Prison at Penetanguishene ; in the next, 
 she had heard of your fathers death, and she was forming 
 a scheme of still bolder character, to be put into execution 
 as soon as she was released, and that was no less than to 
 come here, and, imposing on you as your mother, claim 
 her right of dower in your fathers estate. In due course 
 of time she was released, and immediately she and her 
 brother entered upon the execution of their ingeniously 
 devised plot. 
 
 " It was agreed that Todd should come to the Works 
 several weeks before active measures were to be taken, in 
 order that full information in regard to all points of im- 
 portance should be obtained. He did so, engaging himself 
 as a bricklayer, and very soon thereafter being made fore- 
 man of the workmen engaged in building the stack of the 
 new forge. He brought his wife with him, but, so far as I 
 can learn, she was not let into any secrets of the party, 
 though she appears to have had a general idea that some- 
 thing of an unlawful character was contemplated. About 
 this time Snsan made the acquaintance of Eackett, the 
 leader of a band of robbers that had been committing dep- 
 redations in various parts of the interior of the State, and 
 he, wishing to profit by the knowledge that she and her 
 18
 
 408 ON THE SCSQUEHANNA. 
 
 brother possessed, induced them to agree to your abduction 
 and to the robbery of the "Works. It was thought not only 
 that you would give a large sum of money to be released, 
 but that your feelings would be BO played upon by the pre- 
 tended intervention of Susan in your behalf, and the pres- 
 entation of the evidence in her possession relative to Sarah 
 Mullin's marriage, and identity with herself, as to acknowl- 
 edge her as your mother. We all know how, through 
 Todd's drunkenness, an assault on you, and the discovery 
 of Rackett and Susan on Peter's Mountain, this part of the 
 scheme fell through. 
 
 "Then it was that Susan undertook, very much against 
 her will, but persuaded to do so by Rackett, to impose her- 
 self on you as your mother. The story of her discomfiture 
 and arrest for a diamond robbery that she had perpetrated 
 almost immediately after her arrival in Philadelphia from 
 Montreal, is familiar to all of us, and need not therefore be 
 retold. She was a bad woman, in every sense of the word, 
 but she seems, after once having seen you, to have de- 
 veloped within her a feeling of tenderness which might, 
 had she lived, have led to her reformation, although it 
 would have been effected within the walls of a prison. 
 Rackett has gone to his long account, with two of his band, 
 and the other will probably pass the rest of his life in soli- 
 tary confinement in the penitentiary. 
 
 "Todd shows indications of a desire to lead a better 
 life, but I place no reliance on him. He is a thoroughly 
 bad fellow, and is working solely with the object of secur- 
 ing sympathy and a mitigation of his punishment. He is 
 entitled to some little consideration from the Common- 
 wealth for his disclosure relative to Raekett, by means of 
 which Benham and Dr. Arndell wore enabled to bring that 
 scoundrel and his gang to grief, and wi]l dQub,les3 receive 
 his due in this and in other respects. 
 
 "That," ho continued, gathering his papers together,
 
 OX THE SUSQUEHAXXA. 409 
 
 " embraces all the essential points of the history that these 
 documents tell more fully. At some future time, my 
 dear, you can look them over. I place them where they 
 belong, in your hands." 
 
 With these words Mr. Wade rose and held out the 
 package to Alana. 
 
 "I shall never look at a single paper," she said. 
 " Though they clear the memory of my mother, they tell 
 me of other circumstances that humiliate me, and that I 
 would like to blot out of my memory forever. With an 
 aunt living, all through her existence, a criminal life, and 
 dying in a prison ; with an uncle now in jail, and awaiting 
 his trial for murder and robbery, there is little about my 
 family for which I can congratulate myself. Were it not 
 for the kind friends I have found, I should almost feel like 
 hiding my face from all mankind, and" 
 
 "But with them," interrupted Mr. Wade, while Ben- 
 ham, rising, though with difficulty, put his arm gently 
 around her waist and drew her toward him "with them 
 you will live out in full light of day, blessing all that come 
 within the range of your sweet influence, the type of a 
 noble woman, who, knowing what her duty is, performs it, 
 with full measure and overflowing. Let there be no more 
 sorrow over this matter. The case is closed. It has be- 
 come what we lawyers call res adjudicata. We have all of 
 us other things to think of, and we can not afford to waste 
 any more time on the crimes and punishments of Mrs. 
 L'Estrange and Alexander Todd. To-morrow I am going 
 to Philadelphia, and mainly for the purpose of getting 
 your wedding-present, and and " 
 
 "And what?" inquired Alana, with a smile, allowing 
 her thoughts to be led away from the subjects that had 
 engaged them. 
 
 "I suppose I may as well tell you," answered Mr. 
 Wade, looking a little confused. "You would have to
 
 410 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 know it soon, anyhow, and I see no reason why you should 
 not know it now. I am going to be married." 
 
 "You!" exclaimed all three of his listeners in a 
 breath. 
 
 " Yes ; it is never too late to mend, and I'm going to 
 begin a new life, with Mrs. Priestley to help me to walk a 
 straight path. It was all arranged yesterday." 
 
 "I am not at all surprised," said Alana, giving him her 
 hand, while the others offered their congratulations. " Now 
 that I come to think of the matter, I remember many little 
 incidents that, had I been watchful, would have told me 
 what was going on. You will, of course, continue to live 
 at the Works?" 
 
 " No ; that is the worst part of it. Mrs. Priestley de- 
 clares that nothing would induce her to live in a round 
 tower. The fact is," he continued, with a knowing smile 
 on his face, " she couldn't very well get higher in it than 
 the ground-floor, for, while she is not what would be called 
 stout, she is of such fair proportions that I am very sure 
 she could not pass through my spiral staircase. So I shall 
 either have to build an addition to my tower, with more 
 ample means of going from story to story than I have now, 
 or move to Harrisburg." 
 
 "Build the addition, then," said Benham, "for I see, 
 by the expression that Alana has put into her face, that 
 she will never agree to your leaving the Works. You have 
 been a second father to her, and it will not do for you to 
 break the relationship." 
 
 "Not even if she is going to marry a man who has 
 fought her battles at the risk of his life ? Well, well, we 
 shall see." 
 
 " I shall try my powers of persuasion on Mrs. Priest- 
 ley," said Alana, laughing, "rather than on you." 
 
 She did, and the result was, that an addition, bearing 
 about the same proportion to the tower that a dog has to
 
 ON THE SUSQUEHASXA. 411 
 
 its tail, was built It was essentially different in architect- 
 ure, especially so far as its staircases were concerned, all 
 of which were wide and straight enough to admit of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wade passing up and down them abreast, should 
 they desire so to do, 
 
 The day but one following that on which Mr. Wade 
 made the revelations concerning Alana and her family, 
 Benham was taken to the Works. It was several weeks 
 before his health and strength were so far restored as to 
 admit of his considering himself as well as he had ever 
 been, and then he and Alana were married. The ceremony 
 was performed in the little church at the Works that her 
 father had built Mr. Wade gave the bride away, and Mr. 
 Trevor performed the ceremony. Of course, Alana had no 
 right to suppose that he had ever contemplated asking her 
 to marry him, but she nevertheless did know that such had 
 been his intention. It would not have been treating him 
 with courtesy not to have invited him to officiate at her 
 wedding, and yet it was with many misgivings that she 
 sent Mr. Wade to him with the request. He had evidently 
 been expecting the invitation, for he at once accepted, and, 
 when the time came, went through the service without the 
 quivering of a muscle or the slightest tremor in his voice. 
 He afterward told Arndell that it was the most sublime act 
 of self-sacrifice that he had ever performed. 
 
 Harrisburg, and, in fact, all Dauphin County, were in 
 a state of great excitement during the trial of Todd, Jinks, 
 and the three forge-men. Todd never, by word or deed, 
 allowed it to be known that he was Alana's uncle. She 
 and Benham gave their testimony, and the latter deposed 
 to the fact that it was through information furnished by 
 the prisoner that Rackett's gang was broken up. The 
 district attorney united with Todd's counsel in asking the 
 consideration of the court, and, as a consequence, a sen- 
 tence of ten years' imprisonment was imposed instead of
 
 4:12 ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 
 
 the full extent of the law. It is quite certain, however, 
 that he will not live to emerge from the penitentiary, as he 
 is in the last stages of pulmonary consumption. 
 
 Jinks was found guilty of several burglaries perpetrated 
 at Linglestown and its vicinity, and was sentenced to 
 twenty years' solitary confinement at hard labor, The 
 forge-men were convicted of conspiracy to commit bur- 
 glary, and received each three years in the penitentiary. 
 
 Alana's secret was well kept. No one outside of her 
 family ever knew the truth except Mr. "\Yadc, and it might 
 as well have been in the grave as in his breast. Miss Pink 
 at one time, in consequence of Todd's statements to Mr. 
 McClure, the prison chaplain, had suspicions, but they 
 were all dissipated by his subsequent assertions that at the 
 time he said he was Alana's ancle he was drunk, as in 
 truth he was. 
 
 "Benham's process," as it was and still is called, 
 proved to be of very great value, far exceeding his most 
 sanguine expectations, so that, in the matter of wealth, he 
 was quite the equal of Alana. No happiness can be greater 
 than theirs, for it is based on a love that has its founda- 
 tions deep in their hearts, and that the memories of the 
 past will never permit to die. A little Benham made his 
 appearance in due season. His father once ventured laugh- 
 ingly to say that he was jealous of his first-born, but Alana 
 was quick to declare by word and deed that all the children 
 in the world could never hold the place in her heart that 
 was held by him. 
 
 THE END.
 
 DR. HAMMOND'S NOVELS. 
 
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