KENT HAMPDEN.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 48, 28 November 1891, Page 642

KENT HAMPDEN.

BY

REBECCA HARDING DAVIS.

In Seven Chapters.—Chapter VI. UN THE TRAIL. b °y s d 1 eased without a word. The aceusing note book lay on a table _ j ciin between them. ' Tom went out of the room fora aZf /«fsK'Vs'-A\V ! few moments, and on his return !( In found Kenton his knees by his bedIr I B 'de. jgX | L '- Kent often forgot his morning I; prayers,or rattled them over with his j head full of school, or his dog and gun ; but being sorely in need of help now, he prayed like many older people, with suddenly quickened devotion. As he rose from his knees, Tom faced him. ‘ Kent Hampden, you’re either a saint or a hypocrite !’ he said, hotly. Kent laughed. ‘ I’m neither, Tom. What is it you have against me? Have it out old fellow. You anil I can’t afford to quarrel.’ ‘ I don’t want to quarrel. I’ve known this thing for a week and said nothing. I took your part to my father, to Mr Jarret, to all the boys !’ ‘ Took »ny part ? I don’t understand. What do they accuse me of ?’ Tom stammered, choked, and was silent, turning away from Kent’s amazed indignant face. ‘ Had this note book anything to do with it ? Where did you find it ?’ • One of the boys found it in Wetzel’s cave the day we—’ The colour faded out of Kent’s face. ‘ The day we found the stolen traps and powder? And they thought that I was the thief?’ • No ! no ! Nobody really thought it—unless it was Mr Jarret and Si. They were hard on you,’said Tom, stammering in his eagerness. ‘ Don’t be hurt, Kent ; it was only whispered about. But you remember that you objected to our going in search of the thief, and you didn’t want to go to Wetzel’s cave ?’ ‘ Yes I remember.’ ‘Si thought that looked bad. Of course he made the most of it, to influence my father not to give you the appointment : but father did not believe it, or I should not be here now.’ The blood had come back to Kent’s white face. He laughed, and said, cordially, ‘ Yes, you have been a good friend, Tom. Who found that note-book in the cave ?’ ‘Si Jarret. He seemed to be very much worried and scared at first. I threatened to whip him if he told of it; but his father let it leak out.' Kent walked to the window and stood silent, thinking. ‘ Tom,’ he said, at last, ‘ there is a secret about Wetzel’s eave. But I’m not bound to keep it, now that my honesty is doubted. When we are at home, I’ll tell you the whole truth ; but not until then.' ‘ I don’t want any explanation !’ protested Tom. ‘ I'm ashamed that 1 told you !’ ‘ Your father ami you will not be sorry that you trusted me,’ said Kent quietly. At that moment the note of a bugle was heard, and a cloud of dust rose on the road. The boys seized their hats, and rushed downstairs and across the green in time to see the red Good Intent stage coach drawn up before Mrs Digby’s house, and a gentleman in a furred cloak and wide-rimmed hat cautiously descend the carpet-lined steps which the guard rattled down. ‘ltis Mr Armitage ! He is our last chance !’ said Kent, under bis breath. The boys would have gladly dragged him aside to tell their story at once, but they were forced to be patient. He disappeared into the house, guided by Mrs Digby. Soon afterwards they were summoned to breakfast, and saw the blind man at the other end of the table, the most honoured guest. The meal was long and wearisome to Kent, who was burning with impatience. Mrs Digby nodded kindly to him when she rose from the table, and led Mr Armitage into her sitting room. In a few minutes she sent for Kent. ‘ This is the son of our recent travelling companion, Mr Hampden,’ she said, when he entered. •He must tell his own story. He hopes much from your advice.’ Mr Armitage held out bis hand. He was still a young man, and had one of the kindest and most cheerful faces Kent had ever seen. He held Kent’s hand in one of bis own, while he passed the other swiftly anil lightly over the boy's face. • Pardon me, but I must see you in my own way,’ he

said, smiling. ‘ Now sit down. Tell me all you know about the lost package, from beginning to end. Do not hurry. Tell me every little detail.’ Kent sat down beside him, and told the whole story, from the visit of Judge Morris and Mr Jarret until the return of his father, including his mother’s attempt to lighten the package by a change in the wrappings, and the statements which his father had made concerning his care of it while on his journey. ‘ He says, positively, that the package never left his possession from the time he started from Wheeling until he opened it in the bank in Polden but twice.’ • Once,’ said Mr Armitage, ‘ he entrusted it to Mr Elkhart. He did not open it. Once to me, and I did not.’ He sat lost in thought for some time. At last he said, ‘ I have no eyes, you know, to help me form my opinions ; nothing but my fingers. Have you the package that was substituted for the money ? Can I take it in my hands ?’ ‘ Yes, sir, of course. I will bring it to you.’ Kent ran out and across the green to get it. On his way he met Tom, and brought him back with him, introducing him to the blind man as ‘ my friend who is helping me.’ Mr Armitage took the package, felt it carefully, and weighed it in his long, nervous hands. As he did this, his face grew perplexed and anxious. Mrs Digby, Kent and Tom watched him eagerly. ‘ The notes,’ he said, • if I understood you aright, were, when they were brought to your father, wrapped first in white foolscap, and then in several thicknesses of stiff brown paper ?’ • Yes, sir. My father complained of the weight. My mother supposed so many wrappings had been used in order to protect the notes from dampness.’ ‘ Then she substituted—’ began Mrs Digby. • Chinese silk paper,’ resumed Kent— ‘ two folds. It was light, tough and water-proof. Outside of that she wrapped a single sheet of brown paper.’ Mr Armitage again carefully fingered and weighed the bundle in his hands. The surprise and perplexity on his face deepened. ‘ Now this package,’ he said, ‘ is made up of as many wrappings of brown paper as the original one, with white paper inside to take the place of the notes. It is much heavier than the notes wrapped in the Chinese silk tissue would have been.’

‘ Very likely,’ said Kent, ‘ but my father would not notice that. I believe that the bundle was taken out of the oilcloth case, and this one put in its place, some day while he was asleep on the coach. He would not be likely to notice the difference in weight. He is not a very close observer.’

Mr Armitage smiled. ‘ But I am—with my fingers ! I supposed until now, as you do, that the bundle had been changed after your father left me. But—’ ‘ Well, sir?’ Kent leaned foi ward breathlessly. The blind man’s face was grave. He stood up, still balancing the package on his fingers, speaking slowly and with reluctance. ‘ I know the importance of what lam going to say. It is a bold assertion, since I cannot see. But when your father gave me the package to hold, while he was killing the rattlesnake, I weighed it in my hands, as I am doing now—it is a habit which is natural to me. And— this is the same package. Notes folded in Chinese silk paper would have been much lighter and more pliable.’ Kent stared at him, bewildered and dumb. ‘ You think, then,’ said Mrs Digby, ‘ that Mr Hampden was robbed before he left Wheeling ?’

‘ Yes. But you must remember,’ turning quickly to Kent, ‘ that this is but the opinion of a blind man.’ ‘ I thank you,’ said Kent. ‘ I thought you would give me a clue.’ But he continued to look at him with the same dazed, confused eyes. ‘ You do not agree with me?’ said Mr Armitage, quickly, noticing the meaning of his tone. ‘ltis so different from what we thought! It seems impossible 1’ ‘ I have only my fingers to support my opinion,’ said Mr Armitage, with a little laugh ; ‘ but, Kent, they never yet have deceived me. I am positive that this is the same package which I held in my hands while your father killed the rattlesnake.’

‘ Then the sooner we go back to Wheeling, the better,’ said Tom. ‘ Come, Kent! Let us see to our horses.’

He pulled him by the sleeve. Kent moved unwillingly to the door. Mrs Digby followed them. ‘ Brother Kaimes starts in an hour,’ she said. ‘ I will give you some lunch and feed for your horses, so that you need not lose time at inns by the way. ’ Tom thanked her earnestly, but Kent did not hear her. He was going with lagging, despondent steps to the stables. Nero was waiting for them, and as soon as Tom had poured forth the news, he gave a shrill cheer. • Back to Wheeling ! I thought the scent lay in that direction. I’m with you Kent ! What ails you, boy ?’ ‘ 1 am at fault ! What clue have I ? None ! I am going back empty handed, as I came, and poor father there, waiting—hoping!’ The boy’s voice choked. Tom and Nero were silent. The three horses weie brought out, saddled and harnessed. Mr Kaimes, on the stout brown mare, was waiting for them when they returned to the house. A great basket of provender was stowed into Nero’s tiger striped box. Mrs Digby, Mr Armitage and the whole household came to the door to see the departure of the travellers. Kent and Tom went together to the room in which they slept to bring their knapsacks, and Kent strapped his with a heavy heart. He had been so sure of success when he

packed it, and now he was going back without a word of comfort for his father, and with nothing but the wild guess of a blind man ! ‘ There’s the note-book on the table,’ said Tom. Kent stretched out his hand for it. A ray of sunlight broke through the grey clouds, and fell on the table. It was a cheap pocket account book, with a coarse leather binding. Kent’s eyes fell on a discoloured patch on the cover. He gave a cry ; the blood ebbed from his heart, and he grew sick and faint. He leaned over the table, caught the book in both hands, and carried it to the window. It was but a patch of mould. His eyes seemed blurred. He rubbed them, and looked again. ‘ Thank God !’ he cried, and thrusting the book into his pocket, ran past Tom, who stood dumb with astonishment, down to the green, and began to buckle his knapsack to the saddle with furious haste. ‘ What is it?’ whispered Tom, when he came up to him. • The clue ! The clue ! Don’t ask me now ! Wait until to-night !’ Tom caught his excitement, and fell into such a mad hurry of preparation, that he delayed their starting at least half an hour. Mrs Digby and Mr Armitage came out on the road after Kent was mounted, to say good-bye once more. ‘ I wish I could help you, my boy !’ said the blind man, wringing his hand. ‘ 1 shall come down to Wheeling in a few days, and pay my respects to your father.’ ‘So shall I,’ said Mrs Digby. The boy’s Hushed face and resolute eyes touched her. ‘God help that lad in his woik !’ she said, as she turned away. The day was tempestuous and gloomy. The wind blew fiercely, and the sky was grey and heavy with snow that did not fall. The little cavalcade was not a merry one. Mr Kaimes and Tom began by talking and laughing cheerfully enough, and Nero now and then volunteered a song, or a few remarks on the merits of the Roman Emperor, Billy, or himself. But they both gradually fell into a sombre, anxious mood. Kent’s silence, the dumb, passionate excitement which possessed him, affected them like an electrical current. ‘ What is that boy’s story ?’ said the minister to Tom, as they rode apart. ‘ Tell me, if you can. He interests me strangely. I feel as if I must join myself to him—must help him.’ Tom told the story of the lost package, and Kent’s search. It was no secret ; all the town knew it. ‘ Let me see ; what is his name ?’ ‘ Hampden.’ ‘ And his father’s name ?’ said the minister, excitedly. ‘Ralph Hampden.’ Mr Kaimes made an inarticulate sound of amazement, and rode on hurriedly to the front. He did not as Tom saw join himself to Kent, nor attempt to speak to him, as he had meant to do. They halted once or twice to eat the provisions which Mrs Digby had supplied ; but Kent neither ate nor drank. He was in a fever of impatience, urging his horse into a gallop whenever he led the way. Tom saw him take out the note book from time to time, and pore over the spot on the corner. Could he have gone mad ? The strain on him had been long and heavy. ‘ What have you there?’ he said at last, riding briskly up alongside. Kent laughed wildly, as it seemed to Tom. ‘Look at it, old fellow ! Can you make anything out of it?’ Tom took it eagerly. ‘ Nothing but a patch of mould—no, it is a thin web that is sticking to the leather —grey, with flecks of red in it. What is it ?’ Kent took the book. ‘lt is the one chance of proving father’s innocence. Don’t ask me. I maybe mistaken.’ He shivered, but not with cold. As the afternoon wore on, a heavy fog rose from the creeks. It grew very dark. Nero urged haste, so that they might reach the town before midnight. But Kent, who had been unreasonably eager to push on, now as unreasonably insisted on remaining at a roadside village all night. He appealed to Mr Kaimes. ‘ I hope to take with me tangible proof of my father’s innocence when I enter Wheeling, but I cannot work in the dark. Do not go on,’ he pleaded. ‘ Stay until morning, and be my witness that I act fairly.’ Tom, who was now almost convinced that Kent’s mind was wandering, remonstrated, but the minister decided that they should remain. He went to the house of some of his friends in the village of the Three Brothers, while the others put up at the inn. Tom, whose curiosity was greatly excited, hoped to get at the secret when they were alone together. But Kent, exhausted by fatigue and excitement, was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. He was up at dawn, however, and had left the house long before Tom was awake. They waited breakfast for him an hour, and when he did not come sat down without him. The meal was almost finished when he appeared, coming up the road accompanied by a stout elderly man, and a boy of Kent’s age, all three on horseback. ‘The boy,’said Tom, peering out curiously, ‘is Henry Doty, Joe Doty’s cousin. Joe introduced him to the Wild Beast Slayers one day. He lives out in this neighbourhood. What can Kent want with him ?’ ‘lhe man,’ volunteered Nero, ‘is Zach Jourdan, the constable. What can he want with him /’ ■ Kent must be on the track of the thief !’ cried Tom, jumping up in wild excitement to meet them. ‘ Come in, Kent ! You’ve had no breakfast.’ ‘ 1 want none, thank you. No, Nero, I can’t drink it,’ he said, as the pedlar brought him a cup of coffee. ‘lt would choke me. I can’t waste another minute. I must finish what I have to do ! Are you ready to take the road ?’ ‘ Yes,’ said Tom. ‘ I’ll have the horses out while Nero locks his box. There comes Mr Kaimes, up the street. Is Henry Doty going with us ? Is the constable, too ?’ Kent nodded, but made no further explanation. He rode apart, while the others were saddling and harnessing their horses. The landlord came to the door to speed his guests. He looked earnestly at Kent, and called to him.

‘Aren’t you Colonel Hampden's son, down at Wheeling’’ ‘ Yes,’ said Kent, proudly. The landlord lounged down the steps, while the hostler, negroes and loungers fiom the forge next door lent attentive ears. ‘There was a man here last week,’ the landlord went on, • who said he reckoned the folks at Wheeling ’u’d make your father mayor. Hey ?’ Kent did not speak for a full minute. Tom, with his foot in the stirrup, waited, his face reddening, his breath quickening, watching Kent. ‘ Think he’ll be elected, hey ?’ said the landlord again. ‘ Yes,’ said Kent, with peculiar distiuctness. ‘ I think he will.’ With a nod of good-bye he rode quickly down the street, followed by the rest of the party. Tom pushed forward to his side. Kent glanced at him affectionately. Tom noticed that his features were sunken and pinched. ‘That’s right, Tom. Keep close to me. It gives me courage. But I can’t talk. If I should be mistaken after all !’ They rode rapidly through the long valley, and up the range of hills. The day was clear and frosty. In an hour the sun shone out, melting the thin ice upon the mountain streams. Kent stopped under an old oak that stood by the roadside. ‘ I must ask you to dismount here, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘ and follow me on foot.’ They climbed down the side of the hill until they came to a trail through the underbrush that led to Wetzel's eave. Kent drew aside the vines and undergrowth which hid the entrauce. • Now, Henry Doty, lead the way !’ Doty and the constable pushed their way into the cave. ‘ Shall we go in?’ asked Mr Kaimes. Kent did not hear him. He was watching for Doty to come out again, to bring the proof ! If he should not bring it I The men, seeing his face, kept silence. Suddenly there came from the cave a cry of terror, and a tumult of angry voices. ‘ They have found the thief himself !’ shouted Tom. [TO BR CONTINUED. 1