And this was the once gay, light-hearted girl,--the wild and daring romp, whose buoyant spirit seemed above every reverse of fortune. Poor Jemima Meek! she had run away from her father"s home to link her lot with a gambler! Some play transaction, in which his name was involved, compelled him to quit the service, and at last the country. Now depending for support upon his family, now hazarding his miserable means at play, he had lived a life of recklessness and privation,--nothing left to him of his former condition save the name that he had brought down to infamy!
CHAPTER x.x.xVII. ALL MYSTERY CEASES--MARRIAGE AND GENERAL JOY
"The end of all."
What a contrast did Roland Cashel"s life now present to the purposeless vacuity of his late existence! Every hour was occupied; even to a late period of each night was he engaged by cares which seemed to thicken around him as he advanced.
We should but weary our reader were we to follow him in the ceaseless round of duties which hard necessity imposed. Each morning his first visit was to the hospital of St. Louis, where Keane still lay, weakly struggling against a malady whose fatal termination was beyond a doubt; and although Roland could not wish for the prolongation of a life which the law would demand in expiation, he felt a craving desire that the testimony of the dying man should be full and explicit on every point, and that every dubious circ.u.mstance should be explained ere the grave closed over him.
To seek for Maritana, to endeavor to recover this poor forlorn girl, was his next care, and to this end he spared nothing. Whatever money could purchase, or skill and unwearied enterprise suggest, were all employed in the search. Rica, whose nature seemed totally changed by the terrible shock of Linton"s culpability, gave himself up implicitly to Cashel"s guidance, and was unceasing in his efforts to discover his missing child. But with all the practised acuteness of the police at their command, and all the endeavors which their zeal could practise, the search was fruitless, and not a trace of her could be detected.
Through the Neapolitan Emba.s.sy, orders were transmitted to Naples to inquire into the case of Enrique, whose innocence the testimony of Keane went far to establish. The result was, as Cashel ardently hoped, his complete vindication, and a telegraphic despatch brought tidings that he was already liberated, and on his way to Paris. While both Roland and Rica waited impatiently for the arrival of one whose a.s.sistance in their search would be so valuable, the most perfect good understanding grew up between them, and Cashel began to perceive how, beneath the vices which a life of reckless debauchery had created, there lay--inactive and unused for many a day--kindly feelings and warm affections for which he had never given him credit. As this confidence grew stronger, Rica became more frank and open in all his intercourse, and at last revealed to Cashel the whole story of his life,--a strange, eventful history, whose vicissitudes were the changing fortunes of a gambler"s existence.
For such was he,--without a pa.s.sion, a pursuit of any kind but play, he had pa.s.sed his life in that one baneful vice. For it he had toiled and labored: to indulge that pa.s.sion he had engaged in deadly duels, and perilled his life by acts of forgery.
His marriage with Corrigan"s daughter was brought about solely to procure the means of play; nor was there an energy of his mind or an impulse of his nature had any other direction. Linton"s skill as a gambler, the unceasing resources he seemed to possess, the stratagems and devices he could deploy, created for him, in Rica"s mind, a species of admiration that soon degenerated into a blind submission to all his dictates. Such an ally as this, so deeply versed in all the weak points of his fellow-men,--so thoroughly master of every impulse that moves, of every hope and fear that sways the gambler"s nature,--had been the cherished desire of his heart for many a year, and now fortune bad at last given him such an a.s.sociate. Their sudden success seemed to warrant the justice of the hope. Everything prospered with them since their new league. If he did not gain an equal ascendancy over the daughter"s mind as he had acquired over the father"s, still the ambitious future he often pictured before her, dazzled and delighted her, and thus, erelong, he contrived to obtain a degree of power, although of different kinds, over both. From such an a.s.sociate as Linton concealment was impossible; and Rica soon saw himself completely at the mercy of a man who had sifted every motive of his heart, and weighed every action of his life, and at last became his pitiless, tyrannical master.
Rica"s connection with Corrigan suggested to Linton"s inventive mind the possibility of succeeding to that estate for which already he had perilled so much. His plan was to obtain from Corrigan a full renunciation of his claim to the property, and then to take the necessary steps to investigate the long dormant t.i.tle. All their efforts to discover the old man"s residence were, however, vain; for although they once obtained a clew to the fact, some information seemed to have apprised the others of their danger, and their abode was immediately changed.
It was with a strange thrill of mingled pain and pleasure Cashel heard Rica speak of his daughter Mary,--of her he had deserted for so many a year, and yet now yearned towards with an affection that sprang from his self-accusings. The terrible chastis.e.m.e.nt his own vices had inflicted on his lonely and deserted lot seemed never absent from his thoughts; and he would sit for hours silently, while the heavy tears rolled along his furrowed cheeks, and his strong, heaving bosom showed his agony.
The fruitlessness of their search after Maritana in Paris, and the death of Tom Keane in the hospital, removed the only obstacles to their departure from that city; and Rica and Cashel, who now felt their fortunes bound up together, prepared to take their leave of Paris. The trial of Linton was to take place in Limerick, and thither Roland was summoned by the law-officers of the Crown. This sad duty accomplished, he was to accompany Rica to Columbia, whither some slight hope of recovering Maritana induced him to proceed. As for Cashel, once in the old haunts of childhood, he had resolved never to quit them more.
Roland"s arrangements for departure were soon made, and he repaired to the Emba.s.sy, where he had been invited to breakfast on the last morning of his stay. There was a certain bustle and movement in the courtyard which attracted his attention; and he saw two travelling-carriages, with an attendant "fourgon," surrounded by servants, and loaded with all the preparations for a long journey.
"You have come in time, Mr. Cashel," said the amba.s.sador, as he shook hands with him, "to see our new minister at Florence, who is now on his way thither; and what will have more interest in your eyes, a very pretty girl, who has become the great literary character of our circles here. I regret much that she is about to leave us."
Cashel bowed politely, but with the cold indifference of one for whom the tidings had no peculiar interest, and accompanied the amba.s.sador into a _salon_, crowded with company.
"I have a young countryman to present to you, my Lord," said his excellency, leading Cashel forward, "who I trust will wear a less sombre face in the sunny south than he has done in our northern lat.i.tudes. Mr.
Roland Cashel--Lord Kilgoff."
A sudden start of surprise was made by both, and Roland stood mute and thunderstruck as Lord Kilgoff advanced towards him with extended hand, and said,--
"Yes, Mr. Cashel, your old friend in better health and spirits than when last you saw him; and better able to thank you for much hospitality, and apologize for much injustice."
"Let me have my share in both acknowledgments," said Lady Kilgoff, rising, and taking Cashel"s hand with much cordiality.
Roland tried to mutter a few words, but he could not succeed; and his eyes ranged about the chamber till they fell upon one who, pale and motionless, regarded him with a look of most expressive sadness.
"Miss Leicester, too, here?" said he, at last.
"Yes, Mr. Cashel," said Lady Kilgoff; "chance is about to do for us what all our skill would have failed in. Here are two worthy people who will not hear your name mentioned, and who now must consent, not alone to hear, but see you in person. I am quite convinced you never did or could have injured them. Stand forward, Mr. Corrigan, and make your charge."
"I will save that gentleman the pain of accusing me," said Roland, with deep emotion. "I have injured him deeply, but yet unwittingly. I have long desired this meeting, to place in his hands a doc.u.ment I have never ceased to carry about me,--the t.i.tle to a property of which I was not the rightful owner, and which is his--and his only."
"I will not, I cannot accept of it, sir," said Corrigan, proudly. "I will never see that cottage more."
"I do not speak of "the Cottage,"" said Cashel, "but of the whole estate of Tubbermore, the ancient possession of your house--still yours. There is the proof." And, as he spoke, he drew forth the pardon, and handed it to Corrigan.
The old man trembled in every limb as he perused the paper, which he now read over for the third time.
"A royal pardon to Miles Corrigan, my grandfather?" exclaimed he, gasping for breath; "and how came you by this, sir?"
"The story is soon told," said Cashel, relating in a few words the singular steps of the discovery.
"And you have travelled throughout Europe for upwards of three years to disenc.u.mber yourself of 16,000 a year?" said the amba.s.sador, smiling good-naturedly.
"I have done so to disenc.u.mber myself of the weight of an injustice."
"And this is the youth you would accuse of deception?" said Lady Kilgoff, haughtily.
"Forgive me, Lady; forgive one who has suffered too heavily from the world not to fall into the error of thinking once unjustly of a benefactor."
"I have no t.i.tle to the name, sir," said Cashel. "Nay, more. I am your debtor for wealth which I squandered, believing it my own."
"I knew him better than any of you," cried old Dr. Tiernay, rushing forward and grasping Cashel by both hands. "My own generous, high-hearted boy. Come here, Mary; tell him candidly that you, too, were always of my opinion. This is no time for coyness. Let us have a little honesty after all this deception." He drew Cashel to one side, and, in a deep whisper, said, "What of that Spanish girl?--Are you married or not?"
Roland smiled at the eagerness of the old man"s manner, and, in half-sadness, said, "Poor Maritana is now a fugitive--we know not where."
A sudden commotion at the door, and a tumult of voices, interrupted the scene, and Rica rushed in, crying in ecstasy, "She is found--my child is found!"
The travellers of the diligence pa.s.sing through the wood of Versailles had discovered the form of a sleeping girl at the foot of a tree, and carried her back with them to Paris. Enrique himself, being among them, recognized her at once, and soon succeeded in finding out Rica, into whose arms he restored her.
While Rica hurriedly poured forth this explanation, old Corrigan stood tremulous with agitation, and at last, advancing towards him, said, "Leicester, I am no longer afraid to meet you. Fortune has, at last, favored me. I am rich now, and can make you rich also."
Rica started back: a sudden sickness came over him, and he fell powerless at the old man"s feet.
What a scene of heartfelt emotion followed, as Mary recognized her long-lost father; and the careworn, sorrow-struck man saw the warm affections of those whom, in a life long, he had injured.
"The end of this will be," said Lady Kilgoff, laughing through tears, "that I shall have to proceed on my journey alone. I foresee that we shall not share in all the general joy at these discoveries."
"I have a sister, too," exclaimed Mary, with enthusiasm, "whom I am burning with impatience to see. Where is she? when are we to meet?"
"She is below--she is in my carriage at the door," said Rica.
The amba.s.sador heard the words and left the room, returning in a moment with Maritana on his arm. Wearied and exhausted as she was, there was that in her native grace and beauty that caused a thrill of admiration as she entered.
"Here is your sister, Maritana," said Rica, leading her to where Mary stood, gazing with wistful eyes at the Spanish beauty. Maritana looked steadily at the fair loveliness before her, where timidity and gentleness seemed impressed; and then, as if yielding to some sudden impulse, she sprang forward, and, clasping her hand, covered it with kisses, exclaiming with rapture,--
"Non! non la sua hermana, ma la sua esclava!--Not her sister, but her slave."
Among the group who with admiring eyes gazed upon this little scene, there stood a dark, sombre-looking man, whose mean attire and travel-worn look could not conceal a certain dignity of air and manner.
Cashel"s quick glance soon discovered him, and in a moment they were locked in a fast embrace. "My old, true-hearted comrade!" cried Roland.