THE FATHER OF ADELINE.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CV, Issue 12531, 19 June 1901, Page 4

THE FATHER OF ADELINE.

(New York Sun.) Judge Josiah Marcellus received the. two members of the firm of Arkright and Spoor with all that cordial respect to which their eminence in the China trade and their long connection with him as clients entitled them, “ What is it now, gentlemen ?” he began; “another case of flotsam and jetsam for the Admiralty Court?” % Jabez Arkright, a short, thick-set man, with a kindly but determined face, moved forward a little in his chair and placed his hands on his knees. “Flotsam and jetsam,” he said, “ that which is selfishly cast adrift; my God! I guess you’re right. You remember Adeline, don’t yon?” “ Your daughter) Adeline, poor child?” replied the judge; “why, surely,” “Isaid Adeline?’ "Yes, I understand, your late daughter ■”

“Adeline was not ray daughter!” “You surprise me, Mr Arkright, positively you amaze me. Adeline, who was so widely known a§ the light and pride of your home; Adeline, whose death was. such a blow to your wife and you not your child! Why, I can hardly credit your words!”

“ God knows we couldn’t have loved hex more,” returned Mr Arkright, as he wiped his brow, “ but she was no kith nor kin of ours; we never had a dhild. Listen, now, and I wifi tell you first what I know and then what I want; and do you, James, Spoor, like the good fellow you are, keep me straight and supply anything I may leave out. ... What with age and all this trouble, Tni not the man I used to be; but I’ve got an opinion and the dollars to back it, as you will see. “ Well, then, it is just nineteen years ago one night, when Kate, and I—Kate’s my wife, you know—were returning from some party or other; there, on our porch, between the ,);wo doors, was a covered basket. I carried it into the hall and whisked off a sort of white shawl,.- and as pretty a little girl baby as you ever saw cooed up in onr faces and won our hearts before we could speak. You know wbat the maternal instinct is in good women, especially those so unfortunate as to be childless. When Kate took the child in - her arms I knew that it was welcomed home. I didn’t regret it then; I never did regret it during the happy years when Adeline proved herself a gift from God; : but I almost regret it now that the poor girl is dead, and to our natural grief there is added this bitterness over her fate, this anxiety to solve its mystery.” “Then drop it,” said the judge. “The girl is dead; why seek to open an old scandal; what good will it do?” t “I’ll tell you why? continued Mr Arkright doggedly.. “ There never was a happier child and maid than Adeline; you must say so yourself. True, she. was delicate like a flower; but flowers thrive under love and tenderness. She would have lived, never fear, lived' to bless- our old age; but six weeks before her death there came a change in her like the blight of a frost. The doctors say she caught a cold which developed into quick consumption ; perhaps she did; but why, in a day, did she become silent and sad and strange; why did she shrink from us as if we were strangers? I’ll tell you why. The diay C’ died Kate was sitting by her, when poor child moved her head so as to kiss that kind hand that so often, so constantly, had oared for her. ‘God bless you? she murmured, ‘you dear, good woman’ —not ‘ mother? mind you, as always—‘ God bless you for all you have done for a nameless waif 1’ That was all ; that was the end.”’ “ She knew,” whispered Judge Marcellus. “She knew,” added James Spoor, “and was too proud to tell until the very last. There must have been good stock in her.” “ Sbe knew,” repeated Jabez Arkright. “ What else, was there to cause such melancholy, such despair in a joyous young girl? She was happy with us; God knows that was our utmost desire; she was doubly happy just then, because the natural, the inevitable had : happened, and she and Eugene Spoor, Jim Spoor’s eon. here, her old playmate, had discovered what they knew all along, that they loved each other, to the delight of both families. Would a girl of her buoyant, impressionable nature, no matter how delicate have fallen into a decline in such circumstances, unless her heart had been stabbed through and through by that unnatural wretch, her father ?, I say never six, never! ‘How else did she know? Who else could have told her? Not Kate and I, who had come to believe that she was really our -own, except when we trembled from fear it might not be so. Not James Spoor, our old family friend, who had ever made an especial pet of her for all his rigid notions about good blood and the obligations of birth. 'There was no one else! Remember we were but moderately well off in those days when she came to us, and kept but one servant, a faithful old woman, long since dead. We were living, too, in the country, and moved back to town directly. No one ever suspected such a thing. No one could or would have done such a thing except that man, her father, whoever he is; and for Ins wanton, diabolical slaughtering of happiness and love and life, I’ll expose, IM. punish him; damn me if I domt. “It seems to me you are assuming too much,” objected the ‘judge. “ How do you know that the girl’s father is now alive, or that he ever took an interest in her, or was even aware of her existence? It is usually the mother in such cases that is left with the infant and who abandons it to be rid | of shame ’or expense. She too, may have died, and some indifferent relatives may have done it.- Why, I can think of a dozen hypotheses more reasonable than to suspect the father of any knowledge or instrumentE“ You see, Jabez,” remarked Mr Spoor, quietly, “ you haven’t told about the money.” . . , “Of course, I haven t, agreed Mr ArKright. “I haven’t told half my story, Im so overwrought. Now, perhaps you wont put as much reliance -as I do on the fact Kate lifted the little one from the basket, she said that only a man could have arranged it so awkwardly; but pinned to that blanket or shawl was a thous-and-dollar bill with a not in a disguised hand, but a man’s writing plainly enough, to the effect that the same amount would be sent each year, and that the baby’s name was Adeline. And every year, without fail, there came a letter in the same disguised hand, and inside was a tbousanddollar bill. What do you think of that? Doesn’t it look like a father, too proud to own his child, yet anxious to keep her from want’ What, then, follows? Why, he watched her from afar, seeing her develop into a beautiful young woman. He met her suddenly, unexpectedly, alone, and betrayed himself. I don’t say he meant to injure her; oh, no ; that sort of man is always full of noble intentions, of deep feeling ; but he killed her notwithstanding, and since secrecy was stronger with him than manhood, than conscience, that secrecy shall be divulged. There’s the case, Judge Marcellus, and James Spoor and I have agreed that you are just the one to take it in charge. But the judge shook his head, and pursed his lips in disapproval. “I don’t see what le car? do for you,” he said, “except give the advice, which you won’t follow, to drop it. This is outside of my line, you,know. I can’t say, of course, that in my long professional career there haven’t been cases involving incidents mysterious, romantic, sensational, even criminal; but in each instance the leading motive has been legal. There has been an estate to settle, a- will to probate, a marriage to prove. But I have never conducted a secret investigation, simply for the purpose of aiding revenge, and, with the best of feeling toward old and honoured clients, I never will.” “You forgot, Jabez,” said James Spoor, softly, “ to tell the judge why your wife is ,as anxious as you to have this mystery solved.” ...? . “That’s it?’’cried Arkwright, slapping his knee. “ I’ve got you there, judge ; you surely can’t refuse to help Mrs Arkwright; you surely can’t suspect her of unworthy motives. Lot my revenge be wiped from wmedi tihat’a a wasSa matter of

own, with which you shall have no connection or responsibility. What is the old adage?—Let justice be done, though the heavens fell. Well, you look out. for the justice, and if the skiea happen to fall on some man, now unknown, it won’t be your fault. You see, my dear sir, there is an estate involved. You forget the lOOOdoi paid each year, nineteen in all. Well, it was my delight to invest and reinvest these little nest-eggs for Adeline; and though the good luck whicll seems to come in such cases they increased wonderfully, until she had something over 50,000d0l when she died. What shall Ido with this fortune; to whom does it belong? Kate maintains that it belongs to- Adeline’s mother, some poor woman, perhaps, who does not know that her child lived; who may now be in want, deserted, forced into hardship or shame. What do you say, judge?” “ You are her adopted parents, I suppose?” said the judge, feebly. “Not legally,” replied Mr Arkwright'; “iwe wouldn’t hate raised the question oi Adeline’s birth by applying to the courts; and she never made a will, poor child. But suppose the law had in some way conferred that money on us ; do you 'imagine- that we would touch a single, cent? There- is, then, this large sum to be disposed of; and I retain you, sir, to enable me to do my full duty regarding it.” “ You see, judge,” rejoined James Spoor, mildly, as the lawyer seemed to still hesitate, “ I believe you are morally obliged to take charge of this matter for our friend. Suppose you refuse; what will be the result? He will only be the more headstrong and obstinate, rushing to- this lawyer or that, and arousing scandal before scandal is inevitable. You know lam something of a precisian in family affairs, holding that those of us of good Wood and honourable descent should set an example to the world by our strict observances of social decencies. Therefore, as soon as I perceived that Jabez could not be dissuaded from his purpose, I thought to minimise the evils of publicity and notoriety by bringing him ,to you, being assured that whatever painful duty might arise in the premises would be performed by you with a proper regard for the name and fame o? those concerned.”

“ I consent,” said the judge, -impressed by Mr Spoor’s earnestness, even while he was amused to see how his predisposition for class distinctions influenced his judgment and coloured whatever he undertook.

It was the following day, and Judge Marcellus, with his faithful retainer, Abe Cronkite, was engaged in examining the documents in the case, the letter which had accompanied the foundling and the eighteen envelopes, each one of which had enclosed a thousand-dollar bill. Though the detective had minutely gone over these papers, one by one, studying each stroke and curve of the writing with a microscope, it was evident that such mechanical investigation had not been prolific of positive results. “I don’t find much here, sir,” he said, “ and, indeed, I didn’t expect to, from nay notion of the man. Whoever he is, he has scrupulously observed what I may call the major precautions. This paper has long been in common use, you can buy it at any stationer’s. This ink is an ordinarycommercial black. These envelopes were all mailed at the General Post Office. This handwriting is both disguised and masculine. So much I’ll concede for if, so much and no more. I don’t know what else an exper-t might argue from it; I don’t know and I don’t care. I have no faith in the processes or conclusions of experts ; for I know from practical experience that clever criminals, men who make a business of forging cheques and drafts, laugh at them. Whenever they take the -initiative, which is seldom, they are grotesquely wrong. They are only dangerous to the guilty when they follow a true clue and don’t deviate from it; and that is because the truth, not their theories, mind you, is mighty. I say, then, that whatever an expert might report concerning this writing would not weigh against the denial of an honest, upright man; and sfich a man, iu the world’s judgment, at least, must be tne one wno for nineteen years Kept nis word as faithfully as he guarded his secret.”

“Your demonstration is destructive of hope, at all’events,” grumbled the judge. " I don’t know about that,” replied Cronkite, “ for I haven’t finished with it; what I do know is that only through chance, and not logical deduction, can we find the truth in ink, paper, posting marks and writing. What, then, remains? I hope an inherent, latent characteristic of the man, something so natural, so much a part of Mmself that he no more thought of guarding against it than he would think of guarding against breathing, even labile he was so shrewd and provident In the use of necessary accessories. Such a characteristic should be mental, for that goes to the very soul and. being of the man ; and where only is it possible that we may find it? Why, in the note, of course, left with the baby; for -there alone do his thoughts find expression. “Jiat ps read it

cally. ‘I/will send lOOctol each year for the support of the child. Her name is Adeline.’ Now for the analysis. The first sentence is simple and commonplace in language, without any idioms which might be personal; it also conveys necessary information. , No light there, I admit at once. The second sentence, too, is absolutely neutral' in languagebut how about, the information? Was- it necessary, judge, to give a name to one so ruthlessly discarded? Does it comport with the painful secrecy which has marked every item of the affair to say that Adeline was the name of the child’s mother, or a name in use in the family of her father? I say ‘ No/ most emphatically; what do yon say, sir?” \ “I say -‘No’ also and just as emphatically," replied the judge. “ It is contrary to all the probabilities that one so careful in ail other particulars should have been reckless"m this one. The statement, too, is too deliberate and voluntary to have been a slip." . • “ Thank yon,” said Abe _ Cronkite ; “ when fortified by such an opinion, I can go forward with confidence. If, then, the name was not given, as. names usually are, for the sake of some relkive or family custom, its bestowal must have been caused by some mental peculiarity, idiosyncracy, caprice, if you will, of the man himsell. The giving of any name at all m ght spring from his innate love of form and order; but what motive - would suggest this particular name of Adeline? Let me suppose a case. Take such a man of nice, almost finical habits of thought, who has a high regard for his own position and for the obligation which good blood, education and wealth impose. Place-him, a married man, a family man, doubtless, • in the position of Adeline’s father—-with a child on his hands, through the death of the mother, whom he dare not own, whose presence must cause suspicion, unhappiness, disgrace. He ' determines to abandon the little girl; he must; he will; yet his nature, his conscience, keep interposing precautions for her safety and well-being, “Thus, he selects kind-hearted, well-to-do folks, with a superabundance of simple affection and ■ no children of their own upon whom to concentrate it, for her protectors. Thus he not only supplies ample money for present use, hut engages to furnish- a likes sum each year; and the faithfulness withwhich he fulfilled this pledge attests his earnestness. ' But is this all? Child of shame though the baby is, in her veins flows the blood of which he is proud, his own. Though he must,' he will, disown her, is there not some way in which' he may indicate, without betraying himself, the fact that she comes of honourable parentage — that idea, so closely woven into his mental being, so essential a part of life as he views it? Trivial, unavailing, you may well term it, and yet it may have dulled the sharpest compunction of the whole distressful affair, for convictions gain their strength from within, not without; and so he ponders and Searches until he finds what at least for himself would be an explanation, a compensation ; and names the little one Adeline, which signifies ' of noble birth.’ Can you nob think, judge, of a man whose mental habit is such that he would naturally, almost mechanically, adopt such a course? And does not this mail, so brought to mind, answer all the requirements, being rich, haughty, reserved, punctilious: knowing well the Arkrights and intimate,, with the workings of their household?” “Great-God 1” exclaimed the judge, “he is hinting at James Spoor! Impossible!” “Impossible, judge?” repeated Cronkite. “Ah, many an idol of respectability must be shattered, many a standard of good citizenship must be discarded, before the impossible in matters of morality is reached! Remember this all took place twenty years ago, a long enough time for remorse, repentance, expiation; and yet the sin remains. Jaimes Spoor was younger then, less patient, more imaginative. Have I not heard that his wife was a jealous, passionate woman? Who can gauge the force j>f temptation, the power of resistance- ” But Judge Marcellus did not yield readily to conviction. When his will and better judgment came into conflict, it was necessary that they should, fight to a finish in his presence and under his direction. So ho interrupted with a gesture of impatience. “Nonsense, Abe,” he cried; “I have no wish for a disquisition on mental and moral philosophy. You refine a crochet into a shadow, and then seek to bolster up a whole class with it; you set up a dummy, all stuffed with the straw of your vain imagining, and say, ‘ Behold, this is Janies Spoor as he was twenty years ago.’ There is only one thing ter yon to do: work along the line of what- you call the major precautions. They, at least, constitute a tangible basis.” “Yours to command, sir,” returned the detective submissively. “ Bub since you are going to meet the two gentlemen this afternoon, might I ask you to be so good as to simply say. that I think there may, be

some significance in the name Adeline?^ “ Yes, I will do that, if only to show thet*. how hopeless is the whole trumpery affair.* “ And, by the way, sir, hasn’t. Hr Spoor as<jn?” “ Yes, Eugene.” ’ fc # “ I thought Eugene might he his, lame, | sir,” and Abe Cronkite, defeated, but not i overwhelmed, retired from the conference. That afternoon Judge Marcellus and the two partners were in close consultation when the door opened and a tall, delicatelooking young man, with eyes dulled by infinite sadness, entered. “ Why do you come here, Eugene?” asked James Spoor of his son. “Because Mr Cronkite told me that you were talking about, about—you know— —•” The judge frowned his disapproval. “You might be better employed, young man, than . by keeping alive your natural grief through a hopeless investigation.' There really is nothing to tell. Even Cronkite, who is usually resourceful, is so put to it that he has evolved the theory that the name. Adeline was given to the child by the man who abandoned it, because it signifies ‘of nobja birth/ and that he must have “Why father, father,’.’ -cried Eugena Spoor, springing to his -feet, his face growing whiter and grayer with the spread of awful apprehension, “that is the very reason why you gave me xny name of Eugene, meaning, as you often told me when % child, ‘well born.’ That was a fad of yours,, a pretty fancy, I always thought, that thosa of good lineage should be so distinguished. What does it mean? My God! what does it mean? Can it be that you, so loved, sohonoured, for so many years—that you— —- Ah, I see it all! You had to tell her when you found we loved; you killed her. Ob, what a burning, maddening thought; my sister, my sister J We are of the race of Agamemnon; accursed, accursed!” “ You have your rgveaxge, Jabez Arkright,” said James Spoor quietly, as he pointed to his only child writhing on. the floor, possessed by those devils of horror and despair that cannot b© driven out. “It was written in Divine law, ages before you acted and I tried to circumvent; the sins of the fathers! oh, merciful God! the sins of tha fathers 1”