Chapter XIX
Reading edition
CAPTAIN DILKE'S FATE—A HAPPY WIND-UP.
The days had dragged by on leaden wings to the parents of Jason Dilke. The mother was nearly bereft of reason, but the father, spite of grief for his son and anxiety for his wife, gained in strength day by day.
Every effort to find the boy in the vicinity of Old Orchard and to the southward had been made. Liberal rewards were offered and advertisements inserted in papers far and near.
Jacob, the faithful old servitor, had been continually on the go, but all without success.
And yet the strength of Allan Dilke did not succumb. His face was white and thin, but his eyes shone with a determined light.
"We will hear from Arnold to-morrow," he would say, hopefully, at night. "I know he is doing his utmost."
But the morrow came, and still no word from the absent ones. The heart of the mother had lost all hope, when one night there came a summons at the door after the bereaved parents had retired.
"It is Jason," said Allan Dilke, rising hastily and dressing, when the servant had tapped upon the door and announced that visitors desired to see him.
"Show them into the drawing-room," he said, as he came forth in dressing-gown and slippers.
"But they are rough, sea-faring men, sir," replied the domestic. "Shall I—"
"Do as I bid you!" interrupted the master of the house, sternly. "No room is too good for those who bring tidings of my son."
A moment later two men stood before him in rough sailor garb.
"We come to inform you that—" began one of them, who was no other than Shaky, when Allan Dilke interrupted him.
"If my son is with you," he said, firmly, "bring him to me. If he is dead, tell me so!"
Shaky at once left the room, and soon a little procession came slowly in. Two men were carrying a helpless body, while a woman and boy followed.
A wail of anguish sounded. A woman with white face and streaming hair knelt beside the slight figure which lay upon a sofa.
"Dead! Is my boy dead?" she sobbed. "Twice we have been robbed. Once, so many years ago, when our first-born was taken by the cruel sea, and now—"
She had spoken so hurriedly and with such an abandon of despair that Allan Dilke had failed in trying to calm her.
"The boy is not dead," said Shaky. "See, he is opening his eyes. He is only exhausted."
The mother fainted from excess of joy at this, and, when she had recovered consciousness, Jason was sitting up.
In the midst of their tears and caresses, Shaky spoke again.
"It may not be a proper time to say what I am about to, but something urges me on. Can you bear a revelation?"
"We can bear anything now," replied Allan Dilke. "Our boy is restored to us."
"You lost another child, did you not?" queried Shaky.
Allan Dilke made answer slowly:
"We did, years ago. But why refer to it now?"
"Because the boy is not dead," responded Shaky. "This is your son!"
As he said this, he drew Arno toward them. The boy met the eyes of Allan Dilke unflinchingly, while Jason exclaimed, joyously:
"Good, good, good! Then we won't be parted."
"Is this true?" asked Mr. Dilke, gravely. "Can you prove that he is my son?"
"As for proof," replied Shaky, "I had the honor of helping to steal him away myself more than fifteen years ago, though I did it unwittingly. You remember Bart Loring—that is my real name—and Martin Hoffman and his wife Judith, the deaf mute? They stand before you. We have ample proof."
"And, if I may ask the question, Mr. Loring, what prompted you to commit this deed? Who was the instigator?"
Allan Dilke spoke these words slowly, like one in a dream; but the answer of Shaky, or Bart Loring, came promptly:
"Your brother, Arnold Dilke. He it was who kidnapped the boy I have the happiness of returning to you to-night. I was a sailor at that time on board your brother's vessel, and did not know till afterward who the child was. I also learned later that you were robbed of a considerable sum of money at the same time, though I had no hand in this. Fear of being implicated in the robbery kept me silent, and I left this part of the country shortly after. I prospered, but thoughts of the great wrong done you haunted me continually, and when I returned, a few months ago, I determined to right this matter at the first opportunity, if it could be done. At this time I little thought he had stolen your second child, and it was only by the merest chance that I met your brother on the steamer. From that moment I entered into the matter heart and soul, and have the pleasure of restoring two boys, instead of one."
"And where is this loyal brother of mine, who came to me so repentant a few years ago and begged for an opportunity to retrieve a wasted life?" asked Allan Dilke, standing pale and erect, not noticing that his wife had sunk down on the sofa beside Jason, and that one of her hands was clasped in both those of Arno.
"He is a prisoner in the little sloop not far from here," replied Shaky. "McDougall here, Judith, the two boys and myself were on board a sloop which I am told was stolen from you by your brother and presented to Martin when the two latter personages overhauled us in the Petrel. I sent the boys into the hold, and, when Arnold came on board, we tied him hand and foot and put him in the cabin. I have not seen him since."
"I will send my man with you to bring him here at once," said Allan Dilke. "If he will promise to leave the country, never to return, I will let him go free."
Shaky, Sandy McDougall, Martin and Judith, accompanied by Jacob, left the house, and then Allan Dilke turned to Arno.
"Were you given to understand that this Martin and Judith were your parents?" he asked.
"Yes, sir; though I never could believe it. Once, I overheard Captain Dilke talking to Martin about me, and I knew from what they said that the captain was my uncle."
The tones of the boy were respectful, yet confident, and Allan Dilke smiled as he looked into the earnest eyes that met his.
"I can see the Dilke blood shining in your eyes," he said. "Who knows but what you are the son whom we have so long mourned as dead?"
"I feel convinced that he is," replied Mrs. Dilke. "Something tells me as plainly as words could do that he is our own flesh and blood."
They were talking in this way, when footsteps were heard at the door.
"The men have returned," said Allan Dilke, gravely, rising to his feet. "Now I must meet my brother who has wronged me so deeply."
Jacob entered the room, followed by Bart Loring, alias Jasper Leith, alias Shaky, the latter carrying a bundle.
"Your brother will trouble you no more," said he of the various cognomens. "We searched the cabin of the sloop in vain; but beneath the cabin floor, in a close compartment, we found him, his hands clutching a great quantity of gold, but he was—dead!"
As he spoke, he dropped the bundle upon the carpet. It fell heavily, with a metallic chink, which denoted the character of its contents.
Allan Dilke buried his face in his hands.
"Let the dead past bury its dead," he said, solemnly. "He needs not my mercy now."
"And what will we do with the money?" asked he who had been known as Shaky.
"Divide it between this man McDougall, Judith and yourself," replied Allan Dilke. "I want no portion of it, and I will provide for this brave boy whether he be my son or not."
From this day onward the recovery of Allan Dilke was rapid, and, after the body of Captain Dilke had been consigned to the earth, Martin produced proofs of Arno's true identity, which fully satisfied the happy father and mother that their little family circle was complete.
Martin was allowed to go free, and, in company with Judith, who was exceedingly loth to part with Arno, betook himself to Grand Manan Island, where he resides to this day, a reformed, repentant man.