University of Virginia Library

32. CHAPTER XXXII.
FREAKS OF BLOOD.

Although Ned had been with Susan that morning, and
had breakfasted at the same table, his salutation, upon
entering the house with Persever, after their visit to the
church-yard, was so cordial, his features so animated, that
his foster-mother was astonished. She sat a moment with
her eyes fixed upon his open countenance, and then said:
“Ned, what has happened? Something has occurred which
greatly moves you. Language could not declare it more
plainly than I see it depicted in your face. I have been
so long accustomed to read your feelings, almost your
thoughts, in the changes of your countenance, that it is
impossible for me to be mistaken.”

“Mother! Sister!” said Ned, “you have been both to
me. And I had been nothing but for you! I thank God,
there has been one spared me, who never ceased to feel an
interest in my welfare, and who delighted to lessen all my
miseries by sharing them. If there has been only one to
truly sympathize—”

“Cease, Ned!” cried Susan, her tears suffusing her face.
“Next to the salvation of my soul, the greatest object of
my life has been, and ever will be, the promotion of your
happiness. If you had been my own child, my affection
could not have been greater. But you need not have acknowledged
thus that you appreciate my poor endeavours.
Your conduct has always been my reward. I know now
what it is your intention to say. Tim prepared me to expect
it. I did not suppose that one go gentle, so guileless,
so confiding as she, could be so changed by the vain allurements
of the world. But you must bear the infliction; and,
always remember, that she who watched over your infancy,
and has never yet been long separated from you, will still,
with God's help, under any circumstances, no matter who may
forsake or assail you, strive to assuage your grief, and administer
all the comfort in her power until life be ended.”

“You are mistaken for once, Susan,” said he, smiling
through his tears.

“How? I am so! You are not miserable because
Alice has—What can it be? Tell me, Ned!”

Then Persever narrated the particulars of the discovery
at Tim's house.

“Me?” cried Susan, embracing Ned, in the ungovernable
tempest of her emotions. “Me? I have it? No!
I'd scorn to take a cent of it. It is Ned's. It belongs to
him, every cent of it. I thank thee, merciful Father! that
he whom thou gavest me to guard and cherish, was of my
own blood, of my own kin! What? take the money that
belongs to you, Ned? I would rather starve—rather die,
than do it! I won't have it, Mr. Persever!”

“Yes you will,” said the lawyer, very calmly, “if you
can get it.”

“I won't! As heaven is my witness—”

“Stop, stop! You are going a little too fast. If you
don't take it, there is a possibility that Ned will never enjoy
any portion of it, and that I shall have no fee.”

“What?”

“I say you must and shall get it, if you can; and I
hope we will succeed.”

“Then I'll give it all to Ned! I will—”

“That's another matter. I shall say nothing in opposition
to that. Once yours, and in your possession, no
earthly power can prevent you from doing what you please
with it.”

“But is it not Ned's, justly and—”

“I don't deny that; I think it is. But we are not discussing
that point. Morally and religiously it is Ned's;
but the law, I think, will give it to no one but you.”

“Oh, the horrible and unjust law!”

“Don't abuse the law, Mrs. Mulvany. We expect great
things from it. If it has its ugly features, it frowns grimly
on all alike—on our adversaries, as well as upon us. But
enough of this. It is my duty to warn you, but we may
not be defeated in our purposes. Ned will explain why it is
essential that our discovery be kept for the present a profound
secret. The object is first to take such measures as
effectually to prevent the escape of the prize. We may
not be able to grasp it immediately—it may be years first
—but when it is so surrounded and guarded at all points
as must make it inevitably yours at some period, then
capitalists will advance liberally, so that ammunition may
not be wanting to carry on the war, and subsistence, too.
It is a case of great magnitude and complication. The
heir of Daniel Lorn Parke is likewise the heir of John
Parke. But the indebtedness of Bainton and Mallex to
the latter has been fortunately admitted by a formal acknowledgment,
and upon the establishment of your claim
the administrator must pay you; and then, knowing the
evidences I hold to prove that a much larger sum is due
the estate of John Parke, of course we must expect to encounter
the determined and desperate opposition of the
bankers. If we cannot recover both estates, at least an
advantageous compromise may be effected. The greatest
obstacle, it occurs to me, would be the virtual relinquishment
on the part of Ned of his claim to legitimacy.”

“And that I am prepared to do without hesitation,”
said Ned. “Ned Lorn sounds as well in my ears as Ned
Lorn Parke.”

“But don't I know that you are the son of John Parke?”
exclaimed Susan.

“Of course you do, Susan. And that is all I care
about. So you are satisfied, I care not a fig for the opinion
of the world.”

“Enough of this!” said Persever, rising. “I am now
for action. Do you remain here, Ned, until I write for
you. Send my family to the city by Tim and our friend
Timothy Hay, when Mrs. P. becomes tired of the country.
I shall leave Summerton this afternoon. Tell Mrs. P. that
I don't run away from her this time to fight a duel, but to
serve a client who will probably be able to pay a good fee.
Mind not to intimate who that client is. Add to the message
anything else you choose, and tell her not to permit
the children to eat much fruit after the middle of the day.
I shall sup this evening with H— B—, if I am not
mistaken in my calculations. Good bye.”

When Susan and Ned accompanied Persever to the door,
their attention was arrested by an altercation in the street,
and a crowd of men and boys surrounding the disputants.
Persever and Ned approached the scene of contention to
learn the occasion of it.

“I want Mr. Persevere—I want Ned Lorn,” was heard
above all the voices.

“That is Tim!” said Ned.

“And there is Timothy Hay,” said Persever, seeing a
constable holding the honest farmer by the shoulder.

“What is the matter?” asked the lawyer, stepping
within the circle surrounding the prisoner.

“Nothing, only we've been arresting a thief,” said a
strange ill-looking man, who seemed to be aiding the constable.

“It's an arrant untruth, as I promise to prove,” said
Timothy, smiling, and seemingly not at all distressed, although
he spoke very loudly.

“It's a blasted lie!” said half a dozen men who could
vouch for the farmer's innocence.

“Yes, it's a lie, and he knows it,” said Tim, shaking
his fist under the stranger's nose.

“What is he charged with having stolen?” asked both
Persever and Ned.

“Yonder horse and buggy, and my mammy,” said the
stranger.

“And your mammy!” iterated the lawyer.

“Yes, sir. The other day, and it's the last time I've
set eyes on my mammy, I saw her in this buggy, and
pulled by this horse, going up — street in the city.
I've been hunting for her ever sence, and to-day I eyed
the buggy and horse out at this man's farm. The horse
and buggy aint mine; and so I offered to leave them if
he'd only give up my mammy.”

This was followed by explosions of laughter, as every
one knew that Timothy already had a fine buxom wife of
his own.

“What do you think he wants with your mammy?”
asked Persever.

“Why, to put her out of the way. He's been hired to
do it.”

“Who hired him? And what was the motive?”

“Who? Why it was—” Here Dick—for it was the
old hag's son—paused. He was not quite clear that it
would be good policy to disclose the name of Mallex, or to
indicate the motive which might have induced the capture
of his mother, whose enfranchisement and restoration he
desired merely that he might share the money she usually
received from the banker.

“You don't answer me, sir.”

“And I won't. But I'll swear this man stole my mammy
and the horse and buggy, and that will be enough to
cage him.”

“It will cage yourself, sir!” said the cashier of the
Summerton Bank. “For it will be perjury. He did not
steal the horse and buggy. He bought them, and gave a
check on our bank, where he always has funds and credit.”

“Didn't I tell you?” said Timothy, smiling.

“That's a unpossible alleyby!” said Dick.

“I don't know what a alleyby is,” said Timothy Hay;”
but more than a dozen men saw me make the purchase,
early the other morning, before I went to the city.”

“Yes, I'll swear to that!” said Tim, and several others.

“And as to stealing his mammy,” added Timothy, still
smiling, “it's my opinion it couldn't be done with Kitty

Hay's consent, or without it, nother. I told 'em they were
on a fool' arrent, and they'd only find a mare's nest.”

“Mr. Hay,” said the constable, releasing him, “I done
only my duty.”

“I know it. I don't think hard of you.”

“Do you assert,” asked Persever, “that you saw this
man drive your mother away from the city in this buggy?”

“No, sir. I only saw my mammy in the buggy, but
didn't get a sight of the driver.”

“What pretext then could you have for causing his
arrest? The property you admit was not yours, and you
never saw him with your mother!”

“He's a fool!” cried several.

“Didn't I say Mr. Persevere would fix him?” cried Tim,
exultingly.

“Who did you buy the horse and buggy from?” asked
the puzzled Dick, unheeding the unfriendly glances and
muttered threats of the farmer's friends.

“Of a humped-back little fellow about as high as my
breeches pocket.”

“You did? I know him!” exclaimed Dick, in a lively
tone. “I'm on the right track, now. You are all right.
I beg your pardon for hurting your feelings. You are
free. I enter a nully-prosy-quay. You can travel, and
so will I. Good day, I'm in a hurry.”

“And you'd better be!” said several.

“Pause a moment!” said Ned, confronting him. “Have
I not seen you before, and in this neighbourhood?”

Dick's chin fell when he gazed at the questioner. But
a moment after he said: “Not as I knows on, but yander's
the boat.” He then moved briskly towards the steamboat
landing, followed by Persever, who was quite as anxious as
Dick Sutly to be in the city.

Ned rode into the country with the two Tims, to deliver
his message to Mrs. Persever, and to rejoin his friend
Montague.