University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.
EUGENE FINDS THE LETTERS.

After Job Mallex and Ned Lorn had departed from the
house in the alley, Eugene Bainton threw down the volume
(Robinson Crusoe) which he had apparently been reading,
and rose from the chair.

“That boy is my nephew, my sister's child!” he said,
in a low, harsh voice. “But what if he is? I feel no
affection for him. I may have children of my own. But
if he be identified, or should come forward himself some
day with those accursed letters, what then will be my condition?
Ay, and yours, too, Mr. Job Mallex! But we
have now truly the game in our own hands, if we but play
it skilfully. Job has the boy, and I must have the letters.”
Saying this, he commenced the search. Not making any
discovery in the lower room, he placed his foot upon the
stairway leading to the upper chamber, and then paused.
“This looks like burglary,” said he, turning pale at the
idea. “What if I should be detected in the act? Nonsense!
After what I have already braved, am I to be deterred
from securing the final consummation of all my
plans? No, indeed!” Holding the lamp in his hand, he
first secured the front door of the lower room, and then
ascended boldly to the upper apartment.

The black box was found under Susan's bed. The villain
seized it, and after pausing to consider whether it
would not be as well to depart with it unopened, and without
prosecuting his searches any further, he finally concluded
to make assurance doubly sure by a brief inspection
of its contents. It was no easy task to break open the
box. He broke the blades of his knife, without making
any impression on the lock. Maddened with disappointment,
he seized the box, and placing it under his arm, descended
the stairs, with the determination to convey it
boldly to his own home, and then perform the operation
of removing the top, at his leisure. But when he was in
the act of unlocking the door opening into the alley, he

was startled by the chilling sounds of a watchman's rattle.
He stepped back in terror, and putting down the box, resumed
the chair and the book at the table. He heard the
muffled tramp of men running through the alley. In painful
intensity he listened. The sounds passed by the door
and died away in the distance. Drawing a long breath,
Bainton rose up again and seized the box. But now he
abandoned the intention of carrying it away with him. Such
a burden at such an hour, and when thieves were known
to be in the vicinity, would be likely to attract attention.
The poker at the fire-place was seen and immediately
seized. It was applied successfully. The hinges gave
way, not the clasp. A bundle of letters, perhaps some
twenty in number, greeted his eager eyes. They were tied
with red tape. A glance at the superscription of the upper
one, brought a smile of triumph to his lips. He recognized
his own handwriting. The package was instantly
conveyed to the capacious pocket of his heavy overcoat.

“So much for these!” he exclaimed; “they are my
own property, being written by me, and signed with my
name. This is not robbery!” He then tumbled out the
remainder of the contents of the box. There was a heavy
purse of money, Susan's savings for many a day. He
looked upon it with contempt. But there were likewise
articles of jewelry, and a prayer book. These he had seen before.
They were presents he had purchased for his deceased
sister, the mother of Ned. And on a fly leaf of the book
was his own autograph. After gazing at it a moment, he
tore out the leaf and cast it into the fire. “Perish the
mementoes! can one never get rid of them?” he said,
through his fixed teeth. He gathered up the articles of
jewelry impulsively, with the intention of depositing them
and the book with the letters in his pocket. “No!” said
he, suddenly changing his purpose; “that would look
like robbery.” He dashed them down, scattering them
over the floor. Finding no more papers he unlocked the
door and sallied out. He had not gone twenty paces when
he met both Susan and Tim, who had a moment before
encountered cach other in mutual amazement at the corner
of the alley. Bainton held down his head and passed on
unrecognized.