The Colossus Part 43

"Confound him, I'm getting sick of his peculiarities."

The merchant sat down; DeGolyer stood on the hearth-rug. The time was come, and he had been strong, but now a shiver crept over him.

"My friend told me a singular story to-day."

"I don't doubt it; and if his stories are as singular as he is, they must he marvelous."

"This story _is_ marvelous, and I think it would interest you. I will give it to you briefly. There were two young men in a foreign country"--

"I wish he was in a foreign country. I can't wait here all day."

"He'll be here soon. These two friends were on their way to the sea coast, and here's where it will strike you. One of them had been stolen when he was a child, and was now going back to his parents. But before they reached the coast, the rich man's son--as we'll call the one who had been stolen--was stricken with a fever. No ship was in port, and his friend took him to a hotel and got a doctor for him."

"Wish you'd hand me a match," said Witherspoon. "My cigar's out. Thank you."

"Got a doctor for him, but he grew worse. Sometimes he was delirious, but at times his mind was strangely clear; and once, when he was rational, he told his friend that he was going to die. He didn't appear to care very much so far as it concerned himself, but the thought of the grief that his death would cause his parents seemed to lie as a cold weight upon his mind. And it was then that he made a most peculiar request. He compelled his friend to promise to take his name; to go to his home; to be a son to his father and mother. His friend begged, but had to yield. Well, the rich man's son died, we'll suppose, and the poor fellow took his name on the spot. He had to leave hurriedly, for a father and a mother and a sister were waiting in a distant home. A ship that had just come was ready to sail, and a month might pa.s.s before the landing of another vessel. He went to these people as their son"--

"Oh, yes," said Witherspoon, "and fell in love with the sister, and then had to tell his story."

"No, he didn't. He loved the girl, but only as a brother should. He was not wholly acceptable to his father, but"--

"Ah, that's all very well," said Witherspoon, "but what proof had he?"

DeGolyer met Witherspoon's careless look and held it with a firm gaze.

And slowly raising his hand, he said: "He held up a gold chain."

Witherspoon sprang to his feet and exclaimed: "My G.o.d, he's crazy!"

"Wait!"

The merchant had turned toward the door. He halted and looked back.

"George Witherspoon"--

"I thought so--crazy. Merciful G.o.d, he's mad!"

"Will you listen to me for a moment--just a moment--and I will prove to you that I'm not crazy. I am not your son--my name is Henry DeGolyer. Wait, I tell you!" Witherspoon had staggered against the door-case. "I am not your son, but your son is not dead. I took his place; I thought it a promise made to a dying man."

"What!" he whispered. His voice was gone. "You--you"--

DeGolyer ran to him and eased him into his chair. "Your son is here, and the man who has brought nothing but ill luck will leave you. I tried to soften this, but couldn't," Witherspoon's head shook as he looked up at him. "Wait a moment, and I will call him. No, don't get up."

DeGolyer hastened to the front door, and standing on the steps, he called: "Henry! oh, Henry!"

"All right, Hank."

Young Witherspoon got out of the cab and came up the steps.

"He is waiting for you, Henry." And speaking to the footman, DeGolyer added: "There's nothing the matter. Send those girls about their business."

Young Witherspoon followed DeGolyer into the library. The merchant was standing with his shaky hands on the back of a chair. He stepped forward and tried to speak, but failed.

"I'm your son. Hank did as I told him. It's all right. I've had a fever--he's going to fall, Hank!"

They eased him down into his leather-covered chair.

"I see it now," the old man muttered. "Yes, I can see it. Come here."

The young man leaned over and put his arms about his father's neck. "I will go into the store with you when I get just a little stronger--I will do anything you want me to. I've had an awful time--awful--but it's all right now. Hank found me in New Orleans, scrubbing a floor; but it's all right now."

"I'll get him some brandy," said DeGolyer.

"No," Witherspoon objected, "I'll be myself in a minute. Never was so shocked in my life. Who ever heard of such a thing? Of course you couldn't soften it. Let me look at you, my son. How do I know what to believe? No, there's no mistake now."

He got up, and holding the young man's hands, stood looking at him.

"Who's that?" he asked.

They heard voices. Mrs. Witherspoon and Ellen were coming down the hall. DeGolyer stepped hastily to the door.

"Oh, what are you doing here?" Ellen cried. "I saw somebody--Miss Miller. She didn't say so, but I know that she wants me to kiss you for her, and I will."

"Ellen!" Witherspoon exclaimed, and just then she saw that a stranger was present.

"Excuse me," she said.

DeGolyer took her by the hand, and as Mrs. Witherspoon came up he held out his other hand to her. He led them both to the threshold of the library, gently drew them into the room, and quickly stepping out, closed the door and hastened upstairs.

As he entered his room he thought that he heard a cry, and he listened, but naught save a throbbing silence came from below. He sat down, put his arms on the table, and his head lay an aching weight upon his arms. After a time he got up, and taking his traveling-bag from a closet, began to pack it. There was his old pipe, still with a ribbon tied about the stem. He waited a long time and then went down-stairs. The library door was closed, and gently he rapped upon it. Witherspoon's voice bade him enter.

Mrs. Witherspoon was sitting on a sofa; young Henry was on his knees, and his head was in her lap. Witherspoon and Ellen were standing near.

"He is like my father's people," the mother said, fondly stroking his hair. "All the Springers were light." She looked at DeGolyer, and her eyes were soft, but for him they no longer held the glow of a mother's love. DeGolyer put down his bag near the door.

"Mr. Witherspoon, I hardly know what to say. I came to this house as a lie, but I shall leave it as a truth. I"--

"Hank!" young Henry cried, getting up, "you ain't going away. You are going to stay here."

He ran to DeGolyer, seized his hand, and leading him to Ellen, said: "I have caught you a prince. Take him." And DeGolyer, smiling sadly, replied, "I love her as a brother." She held out her hands to him. "I could never think of you as anything else," she said.

"But you must not leave us," Mrs. Witherspoon declared, coming forward.

"Yes, my mission here is ended."

"You shan't go, Hank," young Witherspoon cried.

"Henry," said DeGolyer, "I did as you requested. Now it is your time to obey. Keep quiet!" He stood erect; he had the bearing of a master.

He turned to Witherspoon. "Here is a check for the amount of money you advanced me, with interest added."

Witherspoon stepped back. "I refuse to take it," he said.