'As good luck would have it, I was in the same car with an
Englishman-a gentleman, one could see with half an eye, and we
fraternised, so that I told him what I was come about. He was
awfully good-natured, and told me he lived a mile or two out of
Winnipeg, and had a share in the steam company, and if I found any
difficulty I was to come to him, Mr. Forman, at Northmoor. I stared
at the name, as you may guess! There was a fine horse and buggy
waiting for him at the station, and off he went. I put up at the
hotel-there's sure to be that whatever there is not-and went after
the Joneses next. I got at the woman first, she looked ill and
fagged, as if she didn't find life with Rattler very jolly. She
cried bucketsful, and said she didn't know anything, since she put
the poor little Mite to sleep after supper in a public-house at
Liverpool. She was dead tired, and when she woke he was gone, and
her husband swore at her, and never would tell her what he had done
with the boy, except that he had not hurt him. Then I interviewed
Sam Rattler himself. He cut up rough, as he said my Lord had done
him an ill turn, and he had the game in his hands now, and was not
going to let him know what was become of his child, without he came
down handsome enough to make up for what he had done him out of. So
then I had to go off to Mr. Forman. He has such a place, a house
such as any one might be delighted to have-pine trees behind, a
garden in front, no end of barns and stables, with houses and cows,
fine wheat fields spreading all round, such as would do your heart
good. That is what Mr. Forman and his brother-in-law, Captain Alder,
have made, and there's a sweet little lady as ever you saw, Alder's
sister. The Captain was greatly puzzled to hear it was Lord
Northmoor's son I was looking for. He is not up in the peerage like
your father, you see, and I had to make him understand. He thought
Lord N. must be either the old man, or Lady Adela's little boy. He
said some of his happiest days had been at Northmoor, and he asked
after Lady Adela, and if Miss Morton was married. He came with me,
and soon made Mr. Rattler change his note, by showing him that it
would be easy to give him the sack, even if he was not laid hold of
by the law on my information for stealing the child. They are both
magistrates and could do it. So at last the fellow growled out that
he wasn't going to be troubled with another man's brat, and just
before embarking, he had laid it down asleep at the door of Liverpool
Workhouse! So no doubt poor little Michael is there! I would have
telegraphed at once; but I don't know where my uncle is, or whether
he knows about it, but you can find out and send him this letter at
once. I have asked him to pay your advance out of my quarter; and as
to the rest of it, it is all owing to you that the poor little kid is
not to grow up a pauper.
'I am staying on at Northmoor-it sounds natural; they want another
hand for their harvesting, so I am working out my board, as is the
way here, at any rate till I hear from my uncle, and I shall ask him
to let me stay here for good as a farming-pupil. It would suit me
ever so much better than the militia, even if I could get into it,
which I suppose I haven't done. It is a splendid country, big enough
to stretch oneself in, and I shall never stand being cramped up in an
island after it; besides that I don't want to see Ida again in a
hurry, though there is some one I should like no end to see again.
There, I must not say any more, but send this on to my uncle. I wish
I could see his face. I did look to bring Mite back to him, but that
can't be, as I have not tin enough to carry me home. I hope your
loan has not got you into a scrape.
'Yours ever (I mean it),
'H. MORTON.'
The letter to Lord Northmoor, which the servant put into his hand, was shorter, and began with the more important sentence-'The rascal dropped Michael at Liverpool Workhouse.'
The father read it with an ejaculation of 'Thank God,' the aunt answered with a cry of horror, so that he thought for a moment she had supposed he said 'dropped him into the sea,' and repeated 'Liverpool Workhouse.'
'Oh, yes, yes; but that is so dreadful. The Honourable Michael Morton in a workhouse!'
'He is safe and well taken care of there, no doubt,' said Frank. 'I have no fears now. There are much worse places than the nurseries of those great unions.' Then, as he read on, 'There, Emma, your boy has acted nobly. He has fully retrieved what his sister has done. Be happy over that, dear sister, and be thankful with me. My Mary, my Mary, will the joy be too much? Oh, my boy! How soon can I reach Liverpool? There, you will like to read it. I must go and thank that good girl who found him the means.'
He was gone, and found Rose in the act of reading her letter aloud (all but certain bits, that made her falter as if the writing was bad) to her parents and Mr. Deyncourt. And there, in full assembly, he found himself at a loss for words. No one was so much master of the situation as Mr. Rollstone.
'My Lord, I have the honour to congratulate your Lordship,' he said, with a magnificence only marred by his difficulty in rising.
'I-I,' stammered his Lordship, with an unexpected choke in his throat, 'have to congratulate you, Mr. Rollstone, on having such a daughter.' Then, grasping Rose's hand as in a vice, 'Miss Rollstone, what we owe to you-is past expression.'
'I am sure she is very happy, my Lord, to have been of service,' said her mother, with a simper.
Mr. Deyncourt, to relieve the tension of feeling, said, 'Miss Rollstone was reading the letter about Mr. Morton's adventures. Would you not like her to begin again?'
And while Rose obeyed, Lord Northmoor was able to extract his cheque-book from his pocket-book, and as Rose paused, to say-
'I have a debt of which my nephew reminds me. Miss Rollstone furnished the means for his journey. Will you let me fill this up? This can be repaid,' he added, with a smile, 'the rest, never.'
Mr. Rollstone might have been distressed at the venture on which his daughter's savings had gone; but he was perfectly happy and triumphant now, except that, even more than Mrs. Morton, he suffered from the idea of the Honourable Michael being exposed to the contamination of a workhouse, and was shocked at his Lordship's thinking it would have been worse for him to be with the Rattler. Then, hastily looking at his watch, Lord Northmoor asked when the post went out, and hearing there was but half an hour to spare, begged Mr. Deyncourt to let him lose no time by giving him the wherewithal to write to his wife.
'She would miss a note and be uneasy,' he said. 'Yet I hardly know what I dare tell her. Only not mourning paper!' he added, with an exultant smile.
In the curate's room he wrote-
'DEAREST WIFE,-
'I have been out all day, and have only a moment to say that I am
quite well, and trust to have some most thankworthy news for you.
Don't be uneasy if you do not hear to-morrow.-Your own
'FRANK.'
