University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.
Revenge.

MEANWHILE, Mr. Acton and Maria
were in the company of Gustavus Burnam.

The dinner, which was served up in the
most sumptuous style, had been partaken of
by Mr. Burnam and his two visitors, and the
three had withdrawn to an apartment furnished
with the greatest elegance and simplicity
of taste.

Thus far Gustavus had succeeded in entertaining
his guests in the most agreeable
manner. His brilliant conversational powers,
and his polite and fascinating manners
were never better appreciated than by Mr.
Acton and his lady on the present occasion.
To Maria, Gustavus was very attentive, and
she appeared so sensitive in his presence,
and so to admire the man, that Mr. Acton,
little dreaming what was the true cause of
her visible confusion, and to feel not a little
jealous of Mr. Burnam's fascinations.

`I have chosen this occasion, Mr. Acton,'
said Gustavus, after the conversation had
run for some time on general subjects, to
make known to you a secret that will surprise
you not a little.'

Mrs. Acton anticipated what was coming,
and shrank back in her chair, pale with agitation,
while her husband regarded Burnam
with a look expressive of interest
alone.

`The secret relates to my own history,'
pursued Gustavus, `a portion of which I
have a desire to relate to you.'

`You do me an honor,' remarked his
guest.

Burnam smiled as he went on.

`You have no idea perhaps of ever having
seen me before?'

`No,' replied Mr. Acton, astonished at the
question.

`My features, then, have undergone a surprising
change,' said Burnam, `else your
memory of persons is poor.'

Mr. Acton looked at him earnestly. His
color changed, for memory began to recall
the image of one, who bore, he thought, a
slight resemblance to Gustavus, and whom
he would not have met for the world.

`You do not remember me?' asked Burnam,
with a strange smile. `Look again!'

Acton looked again, and recognized him
then! It was with fearful agitation that,
with forced calmness, and in a low, husky
whisper, he murmured—

`You are—Charles Chivers!'

`The same,' said Burnam, coolly.—
`Charles Chivers, whom you know before
he was condemned to be hung for the murder
of Caleb Crowl.'

Mr. Acton glanced at his wife, whom he
beheld pale and motionless as if suddenly
changed to marble, then fixed his eyes once
more on his host, who was smiling at the
consternation he had caused.

`Is it possible!' exclaimed Mr. Acton, recovering
a portion of his self-possession.—
`I was not prepared for this!'

He turned away to avoid the piercing
look Gustavus gave him, and in a moment
he had resolved on the course to pursue.

`Maria,' said he to his wife, `let us begone.
We have been deceived in this man.
Recollect he's an escaped convict—that he
is a murderer!'

`You will not go yet,' said Burnam, with
the same calm, strange smile. `When old
acquaintances met like this, they should not
part so suddenly. Be seated, and hear what
I have to say.'

Trembling with agitation, Mr. Acton continued
standing, with his arms folded on his
breast, in the centre of the room.

`Speak quickly,' he said in the tone of
one impatient to know the worst.

`Yes, and briefly,' replied Gustavus.—
`You may remember the circumstances on
which my destiny has turned, but I will review
them briefly, to refresh your memory.

`Twelve years ago, Maria Irving had two
suitors. One was rich and the other was
poor; but the richer of the rivals was not
the favored one.

`The rich suitor was yourself, Mr. Acton;
and you she refused. I, the poorer one in
this world's goods, enjoyed her love, and
was accepted. Well do I understand your
rage, Mr. Acton, on finding yourself supplanted
by one like me!

`I was to be married to Miss Irving, when
a strange and terrible event snatched her
from me and gave her to you.

`In the town where we lived, there also
resided one Caleb Crowl. He was a rough,
selfish, unfeeling man, who had done me
some wrong, and whom I detested and hated
with my whole soul. We were frequently
thrown in each other's way, and once or
twice we quarreled, and I had been heard to
threaten him.

Thus, I had two bitter enemies in the
persons of Caleb Crowl and Henry Acton.

`One day I met Crowl on the banks of
the rapid stream which runs through the
town. It was towards evening, and I did
not recognize him until he accosted me,
and then I should have passed him, had he
not offered me a deliberate insult. Angry
words passed between us, which were overheard
by persons who were passing by all
the time. We did not come to blows, but
it was dark before we parted. I returned
home, and thought no more of the matter
until I was arrested for the murder of
Crowl.

`He had been killed, it was said, and I
alone could have done the deed. I was seen
with him last, near the very spot where there
was found blood, and where his body had
evidently been dragged on the grass to be
thrown into the river.

`Other circumstances, which I need not
repeat, formed, together with this, sufficient
grounds on which to arrest me and commit
me for trial.

`While I lay in prison, Maria Irving either
could not or would not visit me; and

before my trial came on, such efforts had
been made by my rival, Mr Acton, to prejudice
her against me, that it seemed she was
firmly convinced that I was guilty of the horrid
crime of which I was accused.

`My trial came on; you remember that
I was found guilty and sentenced to be hung.
The belief in my guilt was general, and few
pitied me. Yet I had friends who knew
that I was innocent, and who felt it their
duty to assist me to escape. I was bold and
ingenious, and soon contrived a plan of effecting
my escape, which required no open
aid from any one. You remember, perhaps,
the astonishment occasioned by the intelligence
spread one morning that the cell of
the convict, Chivers, was empty.

`I was concealed by my friends in town
for some time, when I made good my escape
by flying to foreign lands. I changed
my name; I have become wealthy; and
now I am returned to seek vengeance for
the wrong I have suffered.'

`Or to be hung?' muttered Acton.

`And for what?' demanded Gustavus,
with a smile of cool contempt.

`For the murder of Caleb Crowl!'

`Which you know that I never committed!
Out upon you!'

`I will not dispute with you,' said Mr.
Acton, turning away. `It is enough for me
to say it was proved against you.'

`And it is sufficient for me, then, to bring
forward a stronger proof than any—a proof
which the evidence of all the fiends combined
could not set aside!'

`What is it?' demanded Acton, fearfully
agitated.

Gustavus regarded him with a smile of
withering contempt.

`The proof,' said he, `that I did not
murder Crowl is—that Crowl is still
alive!'

Mrs. Acton clasped her hands and started
up, while her husband appeared for the moment
ready to sink into the earth.

Desperation often supplies us with cour
age and presence of mind. Thus it was
with Mr. Acton.

`It is false,' said he, advancing boldly towards
Gustavus. `Crowl is not alive.'

Burnam smiled, but made no reply, as he
threw open the door of an adjoining room,
and revealed to the astonished eyes of Mr.
Acton and Maria, the form and dark features
of the so called Isaac Gordon.

`Caleb Crowl stands before you!' said
Burnam, as the burglar stalked into the
room.

`Caleb Crowl!' echoed Maria—`it is he!
the man—the robber who terrified me so
one night, because I thought him dead!'

`I am that man!' said Gordon, with a
grim smile.

`The wretch!' muttered Mr. Acton, his
ashy features distorted with rage. `This is
a foul plot against me; but I will suffer it
to trouble me no longer. Maria, come
away.'

`Not so fast,' replied Burnam. `Let us
see if there is a plot; and if there is, let us
know about it. Speak Caleb Crowl—or
Isaac Gordon, if you prefer that name—
speak and tell us if you know of any
plot.'

`I know of but one,' answered Gordon,
as we shall continue to call him, `and that
you and Henry Acton know as well as myself.'

`But Mrs. Acton does not,' said Burnam.
`Clear up this mystery to her, that she may
know the true character of the man she has
for a husband!'

Mrs. Acton listened with intense interest,
while her husband, unable to utter a word,
stood apart, biting his lips and grinding his
teeth with rage.

`I may as well speak out now,' said Gordon,
bluntly. `It is of no use to say I was
never murdered, for people don't come to
life again after that little ceremony has been
performed on them once. But you'd like to
know, perhaps, what became of me when it
was given out that I had been killed and

thrown into the river. There was blood
found on the bank of the stream, it is true,
but that was'nt my blood; and if my hat
was found washed ashore farther down, it
was no sign that I had gone to the bottom.'

`Come to the point,' interrupted Burnam.

`You see,' pursued Gordon, `all this had
been contrived in order that Charles Chivers
might be accused of the murder!'

`What villainy!' murmured Mrs. Acton.

`I know it—but it was done, on my part,
for revenge. Yet I was not alone in it.—
There was another eager to see the ruin and
disgrace of Chivers.'

`Who?'

Gordon pointed to Mr. Acton.

`It was to destroy a rival that Henry Acton
offered me fifteen hundred dollars to disappear
in the mysterious manner I did, and
never to return to that part of the country
again. I gained a double object in accepting
the offer—the revenge and the reward.
Having arranged everything in such a way
that suspicions would fall upon Chivers without
fail, I escaped from the country in the
right time, and was far away when the report
of any death was spread through the
town.'

`This is enough,' said Burnam. `My revenge
is now complete, for Maria knows
the character of the man, who won her by
plotting to ruin me. I shall take no legal
steps against you, Mr. Acton; I am satisfied
with the assurance that I could have no
sweeter vengeance than this:—HENCEFORTH
YOU ARE DESPISED BY YOUR WIFE!'