CHAPTER XX
THE ESCAPE
It was eight o'clock the next morning before Frank's breakfast wasbrought to him.
"I am sorry you have had to wait," the housekeeper said, as she appearedat the door with a cup of coffee and a plate of beefsteak and toast, "Icouldn't come up before."
"Have the men gone away?" said Frank.
"Yes."
"Then I have something to tell you. I learned something about myselflast night. I was in the closet, and heard the man who brought me heretalking to another person. May I tell you the story?"
"If you think it will do any good," said the housekeeper, "but I can'thelp you if that is what you want."
He told the whole story. As he proceeded, the housekeeper betrayedincreased, almost eager interest, and from time to time asked himquestions in particular as to the personal appearance of John Wade. WhenFrank had described him as well as he could, she said, in an excitedmanner:
"Yes, it is--it must be the same man."
"The same man!" repeated our hero, in surprise.
"Do you know anything about him?"
"I know that he is a wicked man. I am afraid that I have helped himcarry out his wicked plan, but I did not know it at the time, or I neverwould have given my consent."
"I don't understand you," said our hero, puzzled.
"Will you tell me what you mean?"
"Fourteen years ago I was very poor--poor and sick besides. My husbandhad died, leaving me nothing but the care of a young infant, whom it wasnecessary for me to support besides myself. Enfeebled by sickness, I wasable to earn but little, but we lived in a wretched room in a crowdedtenement house. My infant boy was taken sick and died. As I satsorrowfully beside the bed on which he lay dead, I heard a knock at thedoor. I opened it, and admitted a man whom I afterward learned to beJohn Wade. He very soon explained his errand. He agreed to take mypoor boy, and pay all the expenses of his burial in Greenwood Cemetery,provided I would not object to any of his arrangements. He was willingbesides to pay me two hundred dollars for the relief of my necessities.Though I was almost beside myself with grief for my child's loss, andthough this was a very favorable proposal, I hesitated. I could notunderstand why a stranger should make me such an offer. I asked him thereason."
"'You ask too much,' he answered, appearing annoyed. 'I have made youa fair offer. Will you accept it, or will you leave your child to have apauper's funeral?'
"That consideration decided me. For my child's sake I agreed to hisproposal, and forebore to question him further. He provided a handsomerosewood casket for my dear child, but upon the silver plate wasinscribed a name that was strange to me--the name of Francis Wharton."
"Francis Wharton!" exclaimed Frank.
"I was too weak and sorrowful to make opposition, and my baby was buriedas Francis Wharton. Not only this, but a monument is erected over him atGreenwood, which bears this name."
She proceeded after a pause:
"I did not then understand his object. Your story makes it clear. Ithink that you are that Francis Wharton, under whose name my boy wasburied."
"How strange!" said Frank, thoughtfully. "I cannot realize it. But howdid you know the name of the man who called upon you?"
"A card slipped from his pocket, which I secured without his knowledge."
"How fortunate that I met you," said Frank. "I mean to let Mr. Whartonknow all that I have learned, and then he shall decide whether he willrecognize me or not as his grandson."
"I have been the means of helping to deprive you of your just rights,though unconsciously. Now that I know the wicked conspiracy in which Iassisted, I will help undo the work."
"Thank you," said Frank. "The first thing is to get out of this place."
"I cannot open the door of your room. They do not trust me with thekey."
"The windows are not very high from the ground. I can get down from theoutside."
"I will bring you a clothesline and a hatchet."
Frank received them with exultation.
"Before I attempt to escape," he said, "tell me where I can meet you inNew York. I want you to go with me to Mr. Wharton's. I shall need you toconfirm my story."
"I will meet you to-morrow at No. 15 B--Street."
"Then we shall meet to-morrow. What shall I call your name?"
"Mrs. Parker."
"Thank you. I will get away as quickly as possible, and when we are inthe city we will talk over our future plans."
With the help of the hatchet, Frank soon demolished the lower part ofthe window. Fastening the rope to the bedstead, he got out of the windowand safely descended to the ground.
A long and fatiguing walk lay before him. But at last he reached thecars, and half an hour later the ferry at Jersey City.
Frank thought himself out of danger for the time being, but he wasmistaken.
Standing on the deck of the ferryboat, and looking back to the pier fromwhich he had just started, he met the glance of a man who had intendedto take the same boat, but had reached the pier just too late. Hisheart beat quicker when he recognized in the belated passenger his latejailer, Nathan Graves.
Carried away by his rage and disappointment, Nathan Graves clenched hisfist and shook it at his receding victim.
Our hero walked into the cabin. He wanted a chance to deliberate. Heknew that Nathan Graves would follow him by the next boat, and it wasimportant that he should not find him. Where was he to go?
Fifteen minutes after Frank set foot on the pier, his enemy also landed.But now the difficult part of the pursuit began. He had absolutely noclew as to the direction which Frank had taken.
For an hour and a half he walked the streets in the immediateneighborhood of the square, but his labor was without reward. Not aglimpse could he catch of his late prisoner.
"I suppose I must go to see Mr. Wade," he at last reluctantly decided."He may be angry, but he can't blame me. I did my best. I couldn't standguard over the young rascal all day."
The address which the housekeeper had given Frank was that of apoliceman's family in which she was at one time a boarder. On givinghis reference, he was hospitably received, and succeeded in makingarrangements for a temporary residence.
About seven o'clock Mrs. Parker made her appearance. She was fatigued byher journey and glad to rest.
"I was afraid you might be prevented from coming," said Frank.
"I feared it also. I was about to start at twelve o'clock, when, to mydismay, one of the men came home. He said he had the headache. I wasobliged to make him some tea and toast. He remained about till fouro'clock, when, to my relief, he went upstairs to lie down. I was afraidsome inquiry might be made about you, and your absence discovered,especially as the rope was still hanging out of the window, and I wasunable to do anything more than cut off the lower end of it. When thesick man retired to his bed I instantly left the house, fearing that thereturn of some other of the band might prevent my escaping altogether."
"Suppose you had met one of them, Mrs. Parker?"
"I did. It was about half a mile from the house."
"Did he recognize you?"
"Yes. He asked in some surprise where I was going. I was obliged tomake up a story about our being out of sugar. He accepted it withoutsuspicion, and I kept on. I hope I shall be forgiven for the lie. I wasforced to it."
"You met no further trouble?"
"No."
"I must tell you of my adventure," said Frank.
"I came across the very man whom I most dreaded--the man who made me aprisoner."
"Since he knows that you have escaped, he is probably on your track,"said Mrs. Parker. "It will be hardly safe for you to go to Mr.Wharton's."
"Why?"
"He will probably think you likely to go there, and be lying in waitsomewhere about."
"But I must go to Mr. Wharton," said Frank. "I must tell him thisstory."
"It will be safer to write."
"The housekeeper, Mrs. Bradley, or John Wade, will get hold of thel
etter and suppress it. I don't want to put them on their guard."
"You are right. It is necessary to be cautious."
"You see I am obliged to call on my grandfather, that is, on Mr.Wharton."
"I can think of a better plan."
"What is it?"
"Go to a respectable lawyer. Tell him your story, and place your casein his hands. He will write to your grandfather, inviting him to call athis office on business of importance, without letting him know whatis the nature of it. You and I can be there to meet him, and tell ourstory. In this way John Wade will know nothing, and learn nothing, ofyour movements."
"That is good advice, Mrs. Parker, but there is one thing you have notthought of," said our hero.
"What is that?"
"Lawyers charge a great deal for their services, and I have no money."
"You have what is as good a recommendation--a good case. The lawyerwill see at once that if not at present rich, you stand a good chance ofobtaining a position which will make you so. Besides, your grandfatherwill be willing, if he admits your claim, to recompense the lawyerhandsomely."
"I did not think of that. I will do as you advise to-morrow."