Robert Coverdale's Struggle; Or, on the Wave of Success

  CHAPTER XXXII

  ONCE MORE IN COOK'S HARBOR

  Various had been the conjectures in Cook's Harbor as to what had becomeof Robert Coverdale.

  Upon this point the hermit was the only person who could have givenauthentic information, but no one thought of applying to him.

  Naturally questions were put to Mrs. Trafton, but she herself had a veryvague idea of Robert's destination, and, moreover, she had been warnednot to be communicative.

  Mr. Jones, the landlord, supposed he had gone to try to raise the amountof his mortgage among distant relatives, but on this point he felt noanxiety.

  "He won't succeed," said he to his wife; "you may depend on that. Idon't believe he's got any relations that have money, and, even if hehas, they're goin' to think twice before they give a boy two hundreddollars on the security of property they don't know anything about."

  "What do you intend to do with the cottage, Mr. Jones?"

  "It's worth five hundred dollars, and I can get more than the interestof five hundred dollars in the way of rent."

  "Is anybody likely to hire it?"

  "John Shelton's oldest son talks of getting married. He'll be glad tohire it of me."

  "What's to become of Mrs. Trafton?"

  "I don't know and I don't care," answered the landlord carelessly. "Thelast time I called she was impudent to me; came near ordering me out ofthe house till I made her understand that I had more right to the housethan she had."

  "She puts on a good many airs for a poor woman," said Mrs. Jones. "It'stoo ridiculous for a woman like her to be proud."

  "If anything, she isn't as bad as that young whelp. Bob Coverdale. Theboy actually told me I wasn't respectful enough to his precious aunt. Iwonder if they'll be respectful to her in the poorhouse--where it'slikely she'll fetch up?"

  "I don't see where the boy got money enough to go off," said Mrs.Jones.

  "He didn't need much to get to Boston or New York. He's probablyblackin' boots or sellin' papers in one of the two."

  "I hope he is. I wonder how that sort of work will suit the younggentleman?"

  "To-morrow the time's up, and I shall foreclose the mortgage. I'll fixup the place a little and then offer it to young Shelton. I guess he'llbe willin' to pay me fifty dollars a year rent, and that'll be prettygood interest on my two hundred dollars."

  "Have you given Mrs. Trafton any warning?"

  "No, why should I? She knows perfectly well when the time is out, andshe's had time to get the money. If she's got it, well and good, but ifshe hasn't, she can't complain. Oh, there's young Shelton," said thelandlord, looking out of the window.

  "I'll call him and see if we can make a bargain about renting thecottage."

  "Frank Shelton!" called out Mr. Jones, raising the window.

  The young fisherman paused.

  "Come in; I want to speak to you."

  Frank Shelton turned in from the street and the landlord commenced hisattack.

  "Frank, folks say you're thinkin' of gettin' married?"

  "Maybe I shall," said the young man bashfully.

  "Whereabouts do you cal'late to live?"

  "Well, I don't know any place."

  "What do you say to the Widder Trafton's house?"

  "Is she goin' to leave?"

  "I think she'll have to. Fact is, Frank, I've got a mortgage on theplace which she can't pay, and I'll have to foreclose. You can have itas soon as you want it."

  "How much rent did you cal'late to ask, Mr. Jones?"

  "I'd ought to have five dollars a month, but, seein' it's you," said thepolitic landlord, "you may have it for fifty dollars a year."

  "I'll speak to Nancy about it," said the young fisherman. "I don't wantto turn Mrs. Trafton out, but if she's got to go, I suppose I might aswell hire the house as any one else."

  "Just so. I tell you, Frank, I'm offerin' you a bargain."

  Just then Frank Shelton, who was looking out of the window, exclaimed insurprise:

  "Why, there's Bob Coverdale!"

  "Where?"

  "He just walked by, with a smaller boy alongside."

  "You don't say so!" uttered Mr. Jones, hardly knowing whether to be glador sorry. "Well, he's come in time to bid good-by to his old home. I'llgo up to-morrow, first thing, and settle this matter. I s'pose they'lltry to beg off, but it won't be any use."

  Robert had written to the hermit from Columbus a letter which conveyedthe glad tidings of his success. It filled the heart of the recluse witha great and abounding joy.

  Life seemed wholly changed for him. Now he felt that he had something tolive for, and he determined to change his course of life entirely. Hewould move to Boston or New York and resume the social position which hehad abandoned. There he would devote himself to the training andeducation of his boy.

  And Robert--yes, he would richly reward the boy who had restored to himthe son lost so long. He would not yet decide what he would do for him,but he felt that there was no reward too great for such a service.

  He knew on what day to expect the two boys, for Robert had informed himby letter. Restless, he waited for the moment which should restore hisson to his arms. He took a position on the beach in front of theentrance to the cave and looked anxiously for the approach of the twoboys.

  No longer was he clad in his hermit dress, but from a trunk he had drawnout a long-disused suit, made for him in other days by a fashionabletailor on Broadway, and he had carefully trimmed and combed hisneglected locks.

  "My boy must not be ashamed of my appearance," he said proudly. "Myhermit life is over. Henceforth I will live as a man among men."

  Presently his waiting glance was rewarded. Two boys, one of whom herecognized as Robert, descended the cliff and walked briskly toward himon the firm sand beach.

  He did not wait now, but hurried toward them. He fixed his eyes eagerlyupon the second boy.

  Julian had much improved in appearance since we first made hisacquaintance. It does not take long to restore strength and bloom into aboy of sixteen. He was slender still, but the hue of health mantled hischeeks; he was no longer sad, but hopeful, and in his delicate andrefined features his father could see a strong resemblance to the wifehe had lost.

  "Julian!" said Robert Coverdale, "that's your father who is coming. Lethim see that you are glad to meet him.

  "Mr. Huet," he said, "this is your son."

  "You do not need to tell me. He is too like his mother. Julian, my boy,Heaven be praised that has restored you to me!"

  It is hardly to be expected that Julian should feel the rapture thatswelled the father's heart, for the thought of having a father at allwas still new and strange, but it was not long before he learned to lovehim.

  The poor boy had received so little kindness that his father's warmaffection touched his heart, and he felt glad and happy to have such aprotector.

  "God bless and reward you, Robert!" said Mr. Huet, taking the hand ofour hero. "You shall find that I am not ungrateful for this greatservice. I want to talk to my boy alone for a time, but I will come toyour aunt's house to supper with Julian. Please tell her so, and ask herto let it be a good one."

  "I will, Mr. Huet."

  From Julian his father drew the story of his years of hardship and illtreatment, and his heart was stirred with indignation as he thought ofthe cruelty of the relative who had subjected him and his son to thatlong period of grief and suffering.

  "Your trials are over now, Julian," he said. "You will be content tolive with me, will you not?"

  "Will Robert live with us?" asked the boy.

  "Do you like Robert?" asked his father.

  "I love him like a brother," said Julian impulsively. "You don't knowhow kind he has been to me, father!"

  "Yes, Robert shall live with us, if he will," said Mr. Huet. "I willspeak about it to him tomorrow."

  "Will you live here, father?"

  "Oh, no! You must be educated. I shall take you to Boston or New York,and there you shall have every advantage tha
t money can procure.Hitherto I have not cared to be rich. Now, Julian, I value money foryour sake."

  Together they went to Mrs. Trafton's cottage to supper.

  "What makes you look so sober, Robert?" asked Mr. Huet, observing thatthe boy looked grave.

  "I have heard that Mr. Jones will foreclose his mortgage to-morrow."

  "Not if you pay it," said Mr. Huet quietly. "Come with me after supper,and I will hand you all the money you require."

  Robert was about to express his gratitude, but Mr. Huet stopped him.

  "You owe me no thanks," he said. "It is only the first installment of agreat debt which I can never wholly repay."