A Daughter of the Forest

  CHAPTER XXIII

  FATHER AND SON

  "Mother!"

  Adrian's cry was a gasp. He could not believe that he had heardaright; but he felt himself pulled down into his chair and realizedthat though his spiritual world had been turned upside down, as itwere, this extraordinary dinner must go on. There was only one factfor which to rejoice, a trivial one: he had been placed so that hecould look directly into that palm-decked alcove and upon thisconvict, Number 526.

  Convict! Impossible. The fine head was not debased by theclose-cropped hair, and held itself erect as one upon which no shadowof guilt or disgrace had ever rested. The face was noble, despite itslines and the prison pallor; and though hard labor had bowed the oncestalwart shoulders, they neither slouched nor shrunk together as didthose of the other poor men in that group.

  "Adrian! Remember where you are."

  Even the bouillon choked him and the fish was as ashes in his mouth.Courses came on and were removed, and he tasted each mechanically,prodded to this duty by his mother's active elbow. Her tact andvolubility covered his silence, though there was nobody at that table,save herself, who did not mentally set the lad down as an ignorant,ill-bred person, oddly unlike the others of his family. Handsome? Oh!yes. His appearance was quite correct and even noticeable, but if aman were too stupid to open his mouth, save to put food into it, hisplace at a social function were better filled by a plainer and moreagreeable person.

  But all things end, as even that intolerable dinner finally did, andAdrian was free to rise and in some quieter place try to rearrangehis disordered ideas. But he noticed that Kate signaled her motherto lead the guests from the room while she, herself, remained toexchange a few words with her chief musician. Adrian, also, lingered,unreproved, with an intensity of interest which fully redeemed hisface from that dulness which his sister had previously assigned to it.She even smiled upon him, reassuringly:

  "You'll get used to society after a bit, brother. You've avoided it somuch and lived so among those artists that you're somewhat awkwardyet. But you'll do in time, you'll do very well. I mean to make it apoint that you shall attend all my little functions."

  But Adrian resolved that he would never grace, or disgrace, another inthis place, though he answered nothing. Then the lady turned to Number526, and the boy's eyes fixed themselves upon that worn face, seekingresemblances, trying to comprehend that this unhappy fellow was thefather of his sunny Margot.

  Kate was speaking now with an accent intended to be kind, evencommendatory, but her brother's ear detected, also, its tone ofcondescension. Did the convict notice it, as well? If so, his faceshowed no sign.

  "You did well, my man, very well. I think that there might be a bitmore time allowed for practice, and will speak to the warden about it.But you, personally, have a remarkable gift. I hope you will profit byit to your soul's good. I shall want you and your men again for a timethis evening. I have the warden's consent in the matter. A few ariasand dreamy waltzes, perhaps that sonata which you and 1001 played theother day at my reception. Just your violin and the piano. You willundertake it? The instruments shall be screened, of course."

  Adrian was leaning forward, his hands clenched, his lips parted. Hisgaze became more and more intense. Suddenly the convict raised his owneyes and met the youth's squarely, unflinchingly. They were blue eyes,pain-dimmed, but courageous. Margot's eyes, in very shape and color,as hers might be when life had brought her sorrow. For a half-minutethe pair regarded one another, moved by an influence the elder mancould not understand; then Adrian's hand went out invitingly, while hesaid:

  "Allow me to thank you for your music. I've never heard a violin speakas yours does."

  The convict hesitated, glanced at the warden's lady, and replied:

  "Probably because no other violin has been to any other man what thishas been to me."

  But he did not take the proffered hand and, with a bow that would havegraced a drawing-room rather than a cell, clasped his instrumentclosely and quietly moved away.

  Kate was inured to prison sights, yet even she was touched by thislittle by-play, though she reproved her too warm-hearted brother.

  "Your generosity does you credit, dear, but we never shake the handof a prisoner, except when he is leaving. Not always then."

  "Kate, wait a minute. Tell me all about that man. I thought theprisoners were kept under lock and key. I thought---- Oh! it's soawful, so incredible."

  "Why, Adrian! How foolish. Your artistic temperament, I suppose, andyou cannot help it. No. They are by no means always kept so close.This one is a 'trusty.' So were all the orchestra. So are all whomyou see about the house or grounds. This man is the model for thewhole prison. He is worth more, in keeping order, than a hundredkeepers. His influence is something wonderful, and his life is aliving sermon. His repentance is unmistakably sincere, and hisconduct will materially shorten his term, yet it will be a dark dayfor the institution when he leaves it. I cannot help but like him andtrust him; and yet---- Dear, dear! I must not loiter here. I must getback to my guests."

  "Wait, wait. There's something I want to ask you. To tell you, too. Doyou know who that man is?"

  Kate shivered.

  "Do I not? Oh! Adrian, though I have brought myself to look upon himso indulgently now, it was not so at first. Then I hated the sight ofhis face, and could scarcely breathe in the room where he was. He isunder life-sentence for manslaughter and--I wonder if I ought to tellyou! But I must. The situation is so dramatic, so unprecedented. Theman whom Number 526 tried to kill, and whom he robbed of manythousands, was--our own father!"

  He was not even surprised and her astonishing statement fellpointless, except that he shivered a little, as she had done, andwithdrew his hand from her arm, where it had arrested her departure.

  "I have heard that already. Mother told me. But I don't believe it.That man never, never attempted or committed a crime. If he wereguilty could he lift his eyes to mine so steadfastly, I, the son of myfather? There is some horrible, horrible mistake. I don't know what,nor how, but there is. And I will find it out, will set it right. Imust. I shall never know another moment's peace until I do. Those eyesof his! Why, sister, do you know that it was little Margot, that man'sdaughter, who saved me from starvation in the forest? Yes, saved mylife; and whose influence has turned me from an idle, careless ladinto--a man."

  If any of those critical guests could have seen his face at thatmoment they would not have called him stupid; and his excitementcommunicated itself so strongly to his sister, that she passed herhands across her brow as if to clear her startled thoughts.

  "Impossible. Fifteen years has Number 526 lived a prison life, and ifthere had been any mistake, it would, it must, have been found outlong ago. Why, the man had friends, rich ones, who spent great sums toprove his innocence and failed. The evidence was too strong. If hehad had his way we two would have long been fatherless."

  Kate turned to leave the room but Adrian did not follow her. The placehad become intolerable to him, yet he blessed the chance which hadbrought him there to see this unhappy fellow-man and to learn thisamazing story. Now he could not wait to put distance between himselfand the hateful spot, and to begin the unraveling of what he knew,despite all proof, was somebody's terrible blunder.

  As cautiously as any convict of them all, escaping from his fetters,the lad made his way into the street and thence with all speed to thestation. He had picked up a hat somewhere, but was still in fulldress, and more than one glance fell with suspicion upon his heatedcountenance and disordered appearance. However, he was too deep in hisown thoughts to observe this, and as the train rushed cityward he grewmore calm and better able to formulate a plan of action.

  "I begin to understand. This yearly visit of the 'master' has been toNumber 526. They were close friends, and brothers by marriage. Thisyear he has brought Margot with him. Will he, I wonder, will he lether see this convict in stripes? No marvel that my question as to herfather's burial place was an unanswerable one. Mother d
esired me notto mention the names of my forest friends before my father, but inthis I must disobey her. I dare not do otherwise. I must get thewhole, complete, detailed history of this awful affair, and there isnobody who could so well remember it as its victim. But I believethere were two victims, and one is suffering still. I only hope thatfather's head will not be troubling him. I can't think of him withoutthese queer 'spells' yet he has always been capable of transactingbusiness, and I must get him to talk, even if it does confuse him. Oh!hum! Will we never reach the city! And where is Margot now? If I knewI should hurry to see her first; but--what a welcome her uncle wouldgive me if I succeeded in clearing her father's name. No wonder hedisliked me--rather I am astonished that he let me stay at all,knowing my name, even if not my parentage. After that, of course, Ihad to go. Yet he was kind and just to the last, despite his personalfeeling, and this poor Number 526 looks just as noble."

  The house on Madison Avenue was dark when Adrian reached it, but heknew that his father's private room was at the rear of the buildingand, admitting himself with his latch-key, went directly there.

  The banker sat in an attitude familiar to all his family, with hishands locked together, his head bent, and his gaze fixed upon vacancy.He might have been asleep for all appearances, but when Adrian enteredand bade "Good-evening, father," he responded promptly enough.

  "Good-evening, Adrian. Has your mother come home?"

  "No, father. I left--well, I left rather suddenly. In any case, youknow, she was to stop for the night with Kate. But I came, right afterdinner, because I want to have a talk with you. Are you equal to it,to-night, sir?"

  The banker flashed a suspicious glance upward, then relapsed into hisformer pose. Memories of previous disagreeable "talks" with this, hisonly son, arose, but Adrian anticipated his remark.

  "Nothing wrong with me, this time, father, I hope. I am trying tolearn the business and to like it. I----"

  "Have you any money, Adrian?"

  "A little. What is left of my salary; more than I should have ifmother hadn't fitted my wardrobe out so well. A clerk even in yourbank doesn't earn a princely sum, you remember; not at first."

  It was a well-known fact, upon the "street," that the employees of"Wadislaw's" received almost niggardly payment. Wadislaw, himself hadthe reputation of penuriousness, and that his family had lived in thestyle they had was because Mrs. Wadislaw's personal income paidexpenses.

  "Put it away. Put it away where nobody can find it. There are morerobbers than honest men in the country. Once I was robbed, myself. Ofan enormous sum. I have never recovered from that set-back. We shouldnot have gotten on at all but for your mother. Your mother is a verygood woman, Adrian."

  "Why, yes, father. Of course. The very best in the world, I believe.She has only one fault, she will make me go into society, and Idislike it. Otherwise, she's simply perfect."

  "Yes, yes. But she watches me too closely, boy. Don't let your wife bea spy upon you, lad."

  "No, I won't," laughed he. "But speaking of robberies, I wish youwould tell me about that great one which happened to you. It was whenI was too young to know anything about it. I have a particular reasonfor asking. If you are able, that is."

  "Why shouldn't I be able? It is never out of my mind, night nor day.There was always a mystery in it. Yet I would have trusted him as Itrusted myself. More than I would dare trust anybody now, even you, myson."

  The man was thoroughly aroused, at last. Adrian began to question ifhe had done right in saying what would move him so, knowing that allexcitement was apt to be followed by a "spell," during which he actedlike a man in a dream, though never sleeping.

  But he resumed the conversation, voluntarily, and Adrian listenedintently.

  "He was a poor boy from a country farm. Your mother and the girls,were boarding at his home. I went up for Sundays, for I liked hishorses. I never felt I could afford to own one---- Don't buy a horse,Adrian!"

  "No, father. Not yet. I'm rather more anxious to buy a certain moose Iknow and present it to the city Zoo. King Madoc. You remember I toldyou about the trained animal, who would swim and tow a boat, and couldbe harnessed to draw a sleigh?"

  "Umm. Indeed? Remarkable. Quite remarkable. But I wouldn't do it, boy.The gift would not be appreciated. Nobody ever does appreciateanything. It is a selfish world. A selfish world, and an ungratefulone."

  "Not wholly, father, I hope."

  "We were talking. What about? I--my memory--so much care, and thedifficulty of keeping secrets. It's hard to keep everything to one'sself when a man grows old, Adrian."

  "Yes, father dear. But I'm at home now to stay. You must trust me moreand rely upon me. Believe me, I will deserve your confidence. But itwas the boy from the farm you were telling me of, and the horses."

  In all his life Adrian had never drawn so near his father's real selfas he was drawing then. He rejoiced in this fact as a part of thereward of his more filial behavior. He meant wholly what he had justpromised, but he was still most anxious to hear this old story fromthis participant's own lips, while they were together, undisturbed.

  "Yes, yes. Well, I thought I could drive a pair of colts as well asany jockey, though I knew no more about driving than any other citybusiness man. Of course, they ran away, and I should have been killed,but that little shaver---- Why, Adrian, that little shaver just sprungon the back of one, from where he'd been beside me in the wagon, andhe held and pulled and wouldn't let go till they'd quieted down, andthen he was thrown off and nearly trampled to death. I wasn't hurt abit, not a single bit. You'd think I'd befriend such a brave,unselfish little chap as that, wouldn't you, lad?"

  In the interest of his recital Mr. Wadislaw had risen and paced thefloor, but he now sat down again, flushed and a bit confused.

  "What did you do for him, father?"

  "Hmm. What? Oh! yes. Found out he wanted to come to New York and puthim to school. Made a man of him. Gave him a place in the bank.Promoted him, promoted him, promoted him. Till he got almost as highas I was myself. Trusted him with everything even more than myself forhe never forgot. It would have been better if he had."

  A long silence that seemed intolerable to Adrian's impatience.

  "Then, father, what next?"

  "How curious you are! Well, what could be next? except that I went onenight--or day--I don't remember--he went---- The facts were allagainst him. There was no hope for him from the beginning. If I haddied, he would have hanged, that boy--that little handsome shaver whosaved my life. But I didn't die, and he only tried to kill me. Theyfound him at the safe--we two, only, knew the lock--and the iron barin his hand. He protested, of course. They always do. His wifecame---- Oh! Adrian, I shall never forget her face. She was abeautiful woman, with such curious, wonderful hair, and she had alittle baby in her arms, while she pleaded that I would not prosecute.The baby laughed, but what could I do? The law must take its course.The money was gone and my life almost. There was no hope for him fromthe beginning, though he never owned his guilt. But I didn't die,and--Adrian, why have you asked me all this to-night? I am so tired. Ioften am so tired."

  The lad rose and stood beside his father's chair, laying his armaffectionately around the trembling shoulders, as any daughter mighthave done, as none of this stern father's daughters dared to do.

  "I have asked you, father, and pained you because it was right. I hadto ask. To-day I have seen this 'little shaver,' a convict in hisprison. I have looked into a face that is still noble and undaunted,even after all these years of suffering and shame. I have heard of alife that is as helpful behind prison bars as the most devotedminister's outside them. And I know that he is innocent. He neverharmed you or meant to. I am as sure of this as that I stand here, andit is my life's task to undo this wrong that has been done. You wouldbe glad to see him righted, would you not, father? After all thisweary time?"

  "I--I--don't--I am ill, Adrian, I---- Take care! The money, the bonds!My head, Adrian, my head!"