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Five Hundred Dollars; or, Jacob Marlowe's Secret, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 37. Albert Marlowe Meets His Victim |
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_ CHAPTER XXXVII. ALBERT MARLOWE MEETS HIS VICTIM Like most wrong-doers, Albert Marlowe had never ceased to entertain an apprehension that his connections with the bond theft would some time be made public. Yet, as the years rolled by, and he became rich and prosperous, his fears abated somewhat, and he felt no qualms of conscience, though he knew that an innocent man was suffering exile for his sake. When he thought of John Barton it was with dislike. For nothing is truer than the saying that we dislike those whom we have injured. He did not know whether Barton was alive or dead, but hoped that he was dead, as this would make him absolutely safe. When he learned from Percy that Mrs. Barton had a male boarder, his fears instantly suggested that it might be John Barton. The description given by Percy tallied with his recollections of the victim of his wicked plot. His fears and suspicions were instantly aroused. Why was John Barton here? He was under the ban of the law, liable to be re-arrested, yet he ran that risk. What object had he in view? That he sought the care of his wife because he was ill did not seem a sufficient motive. Evidently it behooved him to find out, first, whether Mrs. Barton's boarder was really her husband; and, secondly, if such should be the case, to warn him to leave Lakeville. It gave the squire an uncomfortable feeling to have his victim so near at hand. First, to find out who the boarder was. Albert Marlowe got into the habit of walking two or three times a day past the cottage of Mrs. Barton, in the hope of seeing the mysterious stranger. He did this for several days, but did not succeed in his object. The reason was that Mr. Barton was confined by weakness first to the bed, and then to the lounge in the little sitting-room. But on the fifth day Squire Marlowe was in luck. The mysterious boarder was walking to and fro in the front yard attached to the cottage. When he saw Albert Marlowe he turned away, and was about to re-enter the house. The squire did not need this corroboration of his suspicion, for he had already recognized Barton, though the two had not met for ten years. He set his face firmly; his expression became hard and dogged. "That man must leave Lakeville!" he said to himself. Without hesitation he opened the gate and entered the yard. Meanwhile John Barton, seeing that he was recognized, came to a halt, and, turning around, faced the man who had been his bitter enemy. He showed no signs of fear, for what had happened was only what he had anticipated. Squire Marlowe came up and stood at his side. "You are John Barton," he said. "Do not attempt to deny it!" "I do not propose to deny it to you--Albert Marlowe," answered Barton, calmly. "You are here under an assumed name. I was told that Mrs. Barton's boarder was named Robinson." "I am passing under that name. You know why." "Yes, I do know why. You are under the ban of the law. You are afraid of being arrested and brought to trial a second time." "I know there is danger of it, and of course I shrink from it." "Then why do you come here? Are you mad?" "After ten years I wished to see my wife once more. I am a sick man. I came to her to be nursed back to health." "Take care, or when you leave here it will be for a less desirable boarding-place!" said the squire, in a menacing tone. "You mean the prison?" "Yes; that is what I mean." "No one in Lakeville knows who I am. Why should I fear?" "I know." "Surely you would not betray me--you, the man who worked for years at my side?" "I cannot compromise with crime. It is my duty as a good, law-abiding citizen, to denounce you to the authorities." "You--a good, law-abiding citizen!" repeated John Barton, with scornful emphasis. Squire Marlowe started back in astonishment. The worm had turned. "Do you mean to question it?" he demanded, sharply. "Yes, I do." "On what grounds?" "Albert Marlowe," said John Barton, sternly, "one of us two is a thief, but I am not the one." "Do you mean to insult me?" exclaimed the squire, white with anger, not unmingled with uneasy fear. "Come in! I have something to say to you. It is better said in-doors, where no passer-by can hear it." Mechanically Squire Marlowe followed John Barton into the little sitting-room. Mrs. Barton looked up from her rocking-chair in surprise and apprehension, and half rose. "Stay where you are, Mary," said her husband. "I wish you to hear what I am about to say to Albert Marlowe." _ |
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