In his corn-field, Charles took up his hoe and set to work. Now and then his eyes furtively swept the thicket on the hillside where Kenneth had seen the lurking stranger. Something seemed to tell Charles that the man was still in the neighborhood and was only waiting for the darkness to veil his further operations. He heard the sound of Frazier's horse on the road and saw Mary slip from a rear door of the house and steal rapidly down to the barn, but he did not understand what it meant. It became plain a moment later when Mary was seen hurrying back and the sound of hoofs and wheels at the gate had ceased. That it was Frazier making another call he did not doubt, and a sense of helpless discontent descended upon him, seeming to gather weight and substance from the very thickening darkness, and disconsolate voice from the dismal croaking of the frogs in the near-by marshes. Fireflies were flitting over the corn and about the shrubbery bordering the walk to the house. Charles now gazed more frequently and keenly toward the thicket. It was growing so dark that he felt that his pretense at working could not be kept up longer without exciting undue suspicion in the mind of the possible observer. He had decided to stop, when something among the branches of the young trees on the hillside caught his eye. To his astonishment he saw the vague outlines of a masculine figure emerge, stand out from the trees, and then slowly advance toward him. That he had been under the eye of this person the greater part of the day and was still being watched he did not doubt. That the man knew he was there and was coming toward him for a purpose he was sure. What could it mean other than that the man, if he was a detective, had decided to reveal his purpose and seek an interview from a man so recently hired that he ought to be a disinterested witness? That must be it, and Charles steeled himself for an ordeal he dreaded in many ways. With his hoe on his shoulder he made his way between two rows of corn toward the path leading up to the house. The man was still approaching. He was not a hundred feet away when, as Charles was turning toward the house, the stranger suddenly and softly coughed.
"Ahem!" the man cleared his throat, coughed again, and waved his hand. Charles turned quite around and stood hesitating.
"Wait! Please don't go yet, sir," a strangely familiar voice exclaimed, in a low, urgent tone. "I must see you."
"Great God! Mike, is it you?" Charles lowered his hoe and stood peering through the gloom.
"Yes, sir, it is me, Mr. Charles," was the faltering reply. "I hope you won't be angry, but I felt that I must see you. I waited till night, thinking it would please you for me to do so."
"My God! Mike!" was all Charles could say, as he reached out his hand and dropped his hoe.
"Yes, sir. I hope you will forgive me. I haven't the right to do all this, considering your wishes, sir, but I couldn't keep from it, sir. I saw you about a year ago in Madison Square in New York. You were with a friend, sir, and I dared not address you then, so I followed you and him."
"My Lord! You were that fellow!" Charles laughed out of sheer relief in finding that his greater fears were ungrounded.
"Yes, sir, and I stood watch over the house, hoping to see you alone, but you both got away that night, and—"
"Thank God! Mike—I'm glad—rejoiced to see you!" and Charles affectionately wrung the hand that was in his. "How are the people at home?"
"All well, sir—your brother, the missus and the little girl. She is always asking about you—can't seem to understand like—like—well, like the others."
"I see," and a sudden chill passed over Charles at the thought now in his mind. "But, Mike, how did you happen to locate me? Surely they don't know at home that I am down here."
"Oh no, sir! That was just my discovery, sir."
"Your discovery?"
"Yes. You see, I've been making rather frequent trips to New York to see my mother, and when I was there I was always on the lookout for you. You see, I didn't then know but what you and your friend might return from New Jersey and be hiding somewhere in New York. So a short time ago, sir, happening to be in Washington Square, who should I see but a man who looked so much like your friend that I determined to get a closer view. It turned out to be Mr. Mason, sir; but we were playing at cross-purposes, Mr. Charles, for he thought I was a plain-clothes detective. He had spotted me that time a year ago in Madison Square and, sir, your friend—he will do to trust—he shut up like a clam. He lied like a good fellow, sir. I don't know what he didn't tell me with as straight a face as a parson at a funeral. We had it up and down, sir, for quite a while, and him thinking every minute that I would show my badge, whistle for help, and take him in as a witness against you. Presently, however, he seemed to get tired of the tack we were on and made a bluff, sir. He got up and just as good as told me to mind my own business. He walked off, madlike, in a huff, as if he had had enough of me. But I couldn't let him depart so, Mr. Charles. I went after him again, and then he came back and we had it out. To make a long story short, I finally convinced him that I was your friend, sir. In fact, he said that you had honored me by mentioning me to him. It was the money, however, I think, that clinched the matter."
"Money? Mason didn't accept money from you, did he?" Charles asked, in bewilderment.
"Oh no, sir! He is the soul of honor, Mr. Charles! I mean the money I owe you and which I told him I had then in the bank to pay you. He said you were—I think he said 'strapped,' sir, down here in the neighborhood of Carlin, and he was sure you needed the cash, as you were so hard up that you were going to work on a farm. And this is the way I find you, sir, dressed like a common laborer. Thank God, I've got the money, Mr. Charles. Here it is in a roll. It is burning a hole in my pocket, sir. You ought not to have left Boston without it."
Charles's heart bounded at the sight of the money Michael was now extending toward him. He took it. He fondled it. His eyes beamed through the dusk. "Oh, Mike," he cried. "You can never imagine how much I am in need of this. I wouldn't take it from you, but I really must, for it is going to help a sweet, beautiful girl out of serious trouble. I'll tell you about her later. She is the daughter of the gentleman for whom I am working."
"Was she the young lady who came on a horse and whom you assisted at the barn, sir?"
"Yes. Did you see her, Mike?"
"Yes, sir, and a good look I had, too, sir, for I was hidden behind some thick bushes only twenty yards from where you and she stood with the horse. Oh, she is indeed beautiful, sir, and must have a fine character. Pardon me, sir, but I think I understand. You could not keep from—from—no natural man full of young blood could keep from—admiring her. Ah, sir, I congratulate you. I see now that maybe you need not be so—so lonely and unhappy in your new life."
"There is nothing between us, and never can be, Mike," Charles sighed. "You know of the cloud hanging over me. That will forever prevent my marrying. This is a fine old aristocratic family, Mike. But, Mike, this money may save her from a marriage that is repulsive to her. It will have to be used secretly. I mustn't be known in it."
"You don't mean, sir, that you are giving the—the money away as soon as you get it? Ah, that is like you, Mr. Charles! You are never thinking of yourself—always of others, as you did in my case and many others. But I had hoped—when Mr. Mason told me of your condition down here—I had hoped that the money would come in handy to—"
"It is worth my life to me," Charles interrupted, grasping the hand of his companion and pressing it fervently. "I would have given my right arm to have gotten it anywhere for her use."
"Then it really is love, sir," Michael opined, simply. "And considering what I've seen of the lady, I can imagine how you feel under the fear, sir, of her going to some one else who is unworthy of her. Yes, I'll have to be satisfied."
At this point the bell at the kitchen door clanged. "It is for me, Mike," Charles explained. "I'm late for supper and must go now. But I must see you to-night. Are you stopping at Carlin?"
"Yes, sir, at that remarkable inn. It was there, from that talkative clerk, sir, that I learned of a circus man being employed on this place."
"Well, go back now, Mike, and I'll be in to see you to-night. It may be as late as eleven o'clock, but I'll not fail. Wait up for me. There are many things to be inquired about, but first that other business must be attended to."
"About the young lady, sir?"
"Yes."
"I'll be there, Mr. Charles, and I'll be guarded in my conduct, you may be sure. I'll get directions from you later. Come straight to my room, sir."
"One other question, Mike, before you go." Charles lowered the hoe which he had put on his shoulder and leaned on it.
"Did the—the thing I did at the bank harm my brother financially? Is he still employed there? You see, I was afraid that, on my account—"
"Oh, that is all over with, sir. Your brother, if anything, stands higher than ever. You see, that was due to your uncle James."
"To Uncle James!"
"Yes, sir. You know he came home from Europe very soon after you left. He took a high hand at the bank—bought up all the floating stock and only recently was made the president. I have hoped, sir, that, that being the case, the charges against you would be dismissed. You see, I know, Mr. Charles, and they must know, that you were unconscious of what you were doing. I myself have seen you, sir, when you were in a condition that—"
"Well, never mind that," and Charles seemed to shrink within himself, shouldered his hoe, and turned. "We'll talk it all over at the hotel to-night."
On reaching the house he found that the family and the guest had already supped. He went into the dining-room and sat in his accustomed place. He heard voices from the veranda, and knew that Mary, her father, and Frazier were seated there. Aunt Zilla brought his supper, and he apologized for his delay.
"Dat's all right, Mr. Brown." She smiled significantly. "Young Miss done tol' me dat you was doin' er favor fer 'er. You could stay till daybreak, fer all I care—she is in so much trouble. My Gawd! ef you des could 'a' looked at 'er while she was settin' eatin' 'side dat low rapscallion ter-night, you'd 'a' pitied 'er like I done do. I could 'a' poured de scaldin' coffee down his thick bull neck fum behind when I fetched it in. Why, you kin tell fum de looks of 'im dat his money is all he got! Huh! I say!"
She vanished through the door of her sanctum, letting it shut with a bang that shook the wooden partition.
Presently Charles was conscious of the entry into the room of some one whose step was soundless. It was Mary. She fairly crept into the circle of lamplight from the unlighted hall and sitting-room. Sinking into the chair next to his, she whispered:
"I slipped away. I had to. I couldn't wait to know. Did you find out what—who—"
She was at a loss for words, and he smiled reassuringly. "It was all a mistake. The man Kenneth saw was looking for me. He is an old friend from up North, and a trusty one. He acted oddly, but—but he is rather eccentric, and he was somewhat afraid that I might not want to see him."
"Oh! then it wasn't a detective?"
"No, only an old friend of mine whom I have not seen for some time. I'm sorry it caused you such a fright."
"That doesn't matter." Mary rose, her eyes on the door leading to the veranda. She stood as if listening. The alternate mumbling of two masculine voices came in on the sultry air. She sighed, looked down at Charles, and he saw that the light of relief which had illumined her face had already died down.
"That is out of the way," she whispered, as if to herself in part, "but something almost as bad has come."
"You mean—?" He stood up to keep her company, and saw her sweep her eyes furtively toward the door again.
She nodded as if he had finished a remark that she fully understood. "Albert says that the doctors held another consultation just before he left Carlin this afternoon. They decided that Tobe must be removed to-morrow night at the latest. He came to tell me and to drive me to town with him in the morning."
"And you are going to—allow him to furnish the money?"
She nodded again, her face averted. "I've tried everywhere, and so has father. This is no time for sentiment. I shall do my duty."
There was a sound of steps approaching through the hall. There was no mistaking that careless, blustering stride. With a startled, almost frightened expression, Mary whirled toward the kitchen and disappeared just as Frazier entered the sitting-room. An instant later and Frazier would have seen the two together.
"I was looking for Miss Mary," he said, and he glowered on Charles, who had resumed his chair and taken up his knife and fork. Charles thought with lightning swiftness. He did not want to give the man the slightest information, so with a steady, contemptuous stare he simply made no answer.
His manner and silence fairly stunned Frazier, who, in default of anything else to do, simply glared at him for a moment and then turned back toward the veranda. Charles was glad he had taken the course he did, the next moment, for he heard Mary's voice on the veranda speaking to her father. She had slipped out at the kitchen door and had hastily made her way over the grass back to the front.
Charles finished his supper and, having nothing just then to do, he started up to his room. He intended to go to the village as soon as he could leave the house unnoticed, and that meant waiting till the family and the guest had retired. As he was ascending the stairs he heard the angry voice of Frazier raised above a normal tone.
"He simply glared at me when I spoke, sneered and didn't open his lips. Now I tell you that if it hadn't been here in your house, Mr. Rowland, I'd have given him a licking that he would remember all his life—a common, roustabout circus tramp acting in such a high and mighty way with me!"
Charles heard Rowland's faint voice in response, but failed to catch his words. It was ten o'clock before he heard the others go to their rooms, and he waited half an hour afterward before stealing down the stairs and starting on his walk to the village.