The Cleverdale Mystery: or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American Life

"Why, oh, why did you cross my purpose?" he said. "I am lost. Belle destroyed my last hope. But I do not blame her."

His daughter, engaged bathing his temples, said:

"Oh, Papa, do you wish to leave us?"

"No! but I cannot remain and face this disgrace. No! I must go, I must go unless, unless – " He hesitated.

"Unless what?" quickly interrupted Belle.

"Unless you save me by marrying Walter Mannis," he said.

Belle, looking into his pale face and blood-shot eyes, fully realized his broken-down condition. Finding that there was but one hope of saving his life, a deep sigh escaped her, and she gasped:

"Well – I – I – I will sacrifice myself – I will – marry Mr. Mannis," and she fell fainting across the form of her father.

CHAPTER XXXI.

A REVELATION

The excitement over the "Three Boys" mine called many adventurers to the vicinity. Capitalists came in great numbers, and the three lucky owners were the lions of the hour. The fame of the new mine extending far away, the leading journals of the land were filled with graphic accounts of the bonanza. The owners described, men wondered who they really were, as no knowledge of whence they came could be obtained. They gave their names as George Howard, Ralph Waters, and Frank Bentley, and that was all the curious ones could learn about them.

Already, the partners had ordered improved machinery needed to work the mines. The wealth of the "Three Boys" was computed at several millions, and of course the owners were abundantly able to borrow all the funds necessary to assist them in developing their prize. Men came forward, offering to advance all the money required and take stock in the mine, but the shrewd owners thought best to hold aloof from any connection with others. George Howard's thorough knowledge of banking was valuable in assisting them to obtain money from banks, so they were independent of any aid others could afford, and all the pressure of outsiders to be allowed an interest was unavailing.

George Howard, under his assumed name, was the same methodical and honorable man as when in the bank at Cleverdale. He was the head of the firm in all financial matters; his advice always resulted in the concern's advantage. His embrowned and healthy face covered with a handsome beard, and his eyes sparkling with all the vivacity of yore, the impression that his frank, straight-forward manner made upon all with whom he associated was always favorable. He was thoroughly relied upon by his companions, and when indulging in moments of despondency they labored earnestly to restore him to good nature. A perfect gentleman, a refined and cultivated spirit, and, withal, one versed so well in business matters, they wondered why he had become an adventurer in the wilds of Colorado. Many times the two conversed together concerning their partner, yet no suspicion of wrong on his part ever entered their mind. It was decided between them that a love affair and blasted affections had sent George Howard out into the world to seek his fortune and open a new book of life. They were satisfied to accept this explanation, and their companion rose in their respect as they did so.

One day a stranger appeared at the new mine, and asked many questions. He claimed to represent a wealthy banking-house in Chicago, and it was not long before George Howard was perfectly satisfied that the gentleman was all he represented himself to be. After forming the acquaintance of the three partners, the stranger unfolded the object of his visit, which was nothing less than to purchase the claim or induce the owners to open negotiations with a view to forming a stock company. Painting a glowing picture of the advantage to be gained by the latter plan, he assured the firm they could realize a fortune at once.

George Howard, not in favor of the latter plan, was not averse to selling the mine, providing the purchasers would pay enough. Although not a jockey at a trade, he was shrewd enough to know the firm owned wealth such as he had never dreamed of possessing. While assuring Mr. James of the firm's disinclination to enter into a speculation, he would confer with his companions with a view to selling their claim. And the result of the consultation was the decision to sell the mine.

Mr. James requesting time to consult by mail with his partners, a week afterward a letter from the bankers asked an interview with the owners of the mine at Chicago, and three days later the four men were on their way. For two days after their arrival the banking-house labored to induce the miners to form a stock company, but, after exhausting their powers of persuasion without avail, the firm finally offered three million dollars for the mine. The offer was accepted, the sale soon effected, and the young men, with a million dollars each, were happy.

George Alden, alias Howard, sat alone in his room at a hotel, and said to himself:

"What a change since my first visit here, one year and a half ago! Then I was broken down in health and full of sorrow. Time has wrought many changes in me, for to-day I am strong in both body and mind, and possess a fortune of a million dollars. But with this money I cannot obtain the happiness I desire. My wife's cruel letter, that nearly killed me, recurs to my mind many times a day. What shall I do? I am a millionaire, but cannot return to Cleverdale to be spurned by her as if I were a thief! No, I will go and see the good Mrs. Nash, tell her the story of my life, and then seek a foreign clime, and in travel try to drive the one great sorrow from my heart. Oh, Belle, my darling wife, how happy we might be! Your proud father would not scorn me now on account of financial standing. I will go this day to see Mrs. Nash, remain with the good woman a short time, and see that her future is made more comfortable."

Two hours later the three partners separated, Waters and Bentley taking trains for their destination, while George Howard went directly to the residence of Mrs. Nash. The good woman at first did not recognize him, as he stood before her in the little parlor of her home, but after closely scanning his face her delight was unbounded. She had heard of his prosperity, but when informed of his selling his interest in the mine for one million dollars, she could scarcely realize the truth of the assertion.

"One million dollars!" she exclaimed. "The day of miracles has returned to us."

That day Alden told the motherly woman his story. He told her of his childhood; his struggle to obtain an education; his career as salesman in a store; and his appointment as teller in the bank. He told of the happy weeks at Lake George, where he met the love of his heart, and then related the opposition of her father. As he proceeded, Mrs. Nash became much interested. He spoke of his adventure in the burning factory, describing his injuries and sufferings. He told of his long illness, and the secret marriage, and when he described the happy days following, he could scarcely control his emotion. He told of the parting between his wife and himself; the false accusations against his honor, his weak condition causing him to flee from home and friends, and then he related the particulars of his flight and the cruel letter. Suddenly Mrs. Nash arose excitedly, and asked:

"What is your rightful name?"

"Alden – George Alden."

"George Alden? And was Cleverdale the place you fled from?"

"Yes; but you are agitated; what – what is it?"

"There has been a great mistake somewhere. You are mourned as dead."

"My God! Mrs. Nash, what do you mean?" exclaimed George. "I mourned as dead?"

"Yes, wait here a moment. I have a paper containing full particulars. Your poor wife could never have written that letter. But I will get the paper."

A moment later she returned. Greatly excited, Alden seized the newspaper, which bore date of a year and a half previous. His eyes fell upon a marked article, which read as follows:

"A SAD TRAGEDY[From the Cleverdale, N. Y., Investigator.]

"We are called upon to chronicle one of the saddest tragedies that ever occurred in this locality. The facts of the case are as follows: Last fall the Cleverdale Woollen Mill was destroyed by fire, and one of the bravest and noblest acts of the age was performed by George Alden, cashier of the Cleverdale National Bank. The immense factory employed seven hundred men, women, and children, and, as the flames burst forth, one hundred and fifty persons on the third floor were cut off from escape, except by the way of two doors only reached by running a gauntlet of fire. Poor Alden succeeded in relieving the captives, but his bravery nearly cost him his life; for several months he languished on a bed of suffering, and approached the door of eternity. Kind attention and skilful treatment brought him up, but the sad catastrophe left him weak in mind and body. His lifeless form was found on Friday last, in Reynolds Grove, a bullet-hole in the brain and a pistol lying at the side of the unfortunate man telling too plainly of his death by suicide."

George Alden paused a moment to calm his agitation, and then proceeded:

"The body was horribly decomposed, the face being unrecognizable, the clothing alone proving the identity of the poor fellow.

"It was a sad ending of a noble life, and never did a community mourn for one of its citizens as the people of Cleverdale mourn for poor George Alden. Two women in this affliction are entitled to our deepest sympathy. His sister has lost the companion of her life, while the beautiful daughter of Senator Hamblin is utterly prostrated by the sad event. George Alden was an estimable young man, and the love and respect of the whole community was shown when all business was suspended to allow a public demonstration of sorrow at the grave of Cleverdale's hero."

Alden dropped the paper and exclaimed, "Oh, my poor wife! how I have wronged you! But who are the villains who have done this? I have been the victim of a wicked conspiracy. To-night I will leave for Cleverdale. I must go at once, for I have deeply wronged my wife. But perhaps she is dead! Oh no, she must be alive, and her father will not turn me off now."

Making immediate preparations to leave Chicago, he presented his kind friend with a generous sum of money, promising to write her on his arrival at Cleverdale. That night he was on a train bound for the East. He remembered how full of sorrow he was when he arrived in the city, eighteen months previous. Now he was returning to his home and kindred, unconscious of the events going forward at Cleverdale to rob him of his wife.

His first thought was to telegraph his friends, informing them of his coming, but he finally concluded to hasten on and verify his existence in the flesh by his own person and with his own lips.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE WANDERER'S RETURN

The day after his attempted suicide, Senator Hamblin, holding an interview with his daughter, again deceived her, saying that Mannis, fully cognizant of his financial embarrassment, offered to assist him when she became his wife. Belle exacted a promise from her father that he would inform Mannis of her marriage with George Alden, and that her heart could never be another's. If Mannis wished her to become his wife after knowing all, she would be ready to make the sacrifice to save her father.

For several days after this conversation, Belle, almost frantic with grief, remained in her own private apartment. Consenting to wed a man whom she believed indirectly responsible for her unhappiness, her condition became pitiable, and she moaned and sobbed continually.

"If I could only die and be laid beside my husband in yonder cemetery!" she said. "I fear I shall lose my reason, for this awful sacrifice I am about to make will break my heart. I cannot love another, much less this man who drove my poor sick husband into his grave. Is there no other way to avert the calamity awaiting Papa?"

"No, my child," replied her mother. "I fear not. You have promised to sacrifice yourself upon the altar of duty, to save your father. You have always been a brave girl, and you must rouse yourself from this despondency. You must be calm, or your health – yes, perhaps your life will pay the penalty."

"Oh, why did Papa allow himself to be led into this difficulty? God pity us all!"

Her mother was with her day and night, while Fannie Alden came often, and to her Belle related all her trials. She did not withhold the fact of her father's financial troubles from her sister-in-law; she even told of the attempted suicide, which greatly shocked Fannie, for the affair had been kept from the knowledge of the public. In words accompanied by sobs, Belle related her promise to wed Walter Mannis in order to save her father from ruin, and then she gave way to an outburst of tears. Fannie mingled her tears with those of the distracted girl, but said:

"Belle, my dear sister, your duty is plain. Poor George cannot return. You are young, and time may temper the roughness of that which now seems so hard and cruel. Oh, it is hard that fate decrees this sacrifice, but the ways of Providence are mysterious and past comprehension. You will, at least, occupy a position of honor, for Mr. Mannis is a rising man in the world, and many will envy you."

"Envy me! It seems criminal to wed such a man! He was the evil genius that followed my dear husband; indirectly, he sent George into eternity."

Thus she reasoned, and instead of becoming reconciled to her fate, grieved day and night.

Senator Hamblin at first felt a return of happiness. After recovering from the shock of his attempted suicide he seemed much changed, and began to look upon life as possessing more attractions. He desired to live, and tried to believe the marriage of his daughter would prolong her days; but when he saw her rapidly sink under her load of grief his gloominess returned. He thought the calamity of failure indefinitely postponed, but when he beheld the cost he reproached himself. He had deceived his child, for he was well aware her sense of honor would not permit her to marry Mannis and be a party to deceit. This thought troubled him so greatly, his former distraction of mind returned.

"Could I restore George Alden," he said, "I would face the disgrace of financial ruin instead of continuing this deception. Her affections are buried in the grave on yonder hillside, and I am afraid she will hardly live to become the wife of Mannis."

He visited her daily, and once sitting at her bedside, where she almost constantly remained, he said:

"Belle, my daughter, would that I could extricate myself from this dilemma at a less cost than the sacrifice of your health."

"Papa, I am a poor weak girl, and Mr. Mannis must take my hand without my heart. It is all I can give. But as he understands it, I am ready for the sacrifice; and if it will be the means of saving you from disgrace I shall be repaid."

Senator Hamblin felt guilty at his deception in not informing Mannis, as he had promised; for, writing of his daughter's consent, he simply referred to the girl's low spirits and failing health. Mannis was prepared for this information, and in his reply pretended to be affected by her suffering, and expressed much sympathy for her. He closed by informing his expectant father-in-law of his intention to visit Cleverdale the following week, when all preliminaries could be arranged for the consummation of his long-deferred wish.

One week later Mannis arrived. Senator Hamblin took him directly to his home, when an interview between Belle and himself was arranged. As the poor girl's affianced husband met her he took her cold hand in his, raised it to his lips, and said:

"It is long since we met, but you have ever been present in my mind."

With great coldness and formality she replied:

"I have seen much trouble since then."

"I know it, and my heartfelt sympathy has ever been yours. Your decision to become my wife has brought unspeakable joy to my heart. Ah! Miss Belle, when you are mine we will seek other scenes, and drive away the dark clouds of gloom surrounding you. Your pale cheeks shall bloom again, believe me."

The interview was of short duration, Belle acting mechanically in all her movements. She was like one in a trance, and Mannis noticed a great change in her since the day he was her father's guest at Lake George, nearly three years previous. He had seen her only twice since the sad event of little Willie's death.

As he expressed his desire for an early marriage, the day was appointed for a month later.

Mannis remained, dining with Senator Hamblin. But Belle, overcome by the interview, retired to her room, and neither mother nor daughter appeared at the table.

The engagement of Hon. Walter Mannis and Miss Belle Hamblin was soon the theme of general conversation. "Society papers" recorded it, and long, glowing descriptions of the contracting parties were printed. Mannis was spoken of as one of the leading men in the State, while the beauty of Miss Hamblin was extolled in rapturous terms of praise.

While the public congratulated the honorable gentleman and his beautiful fiancée on their engagement, there was one sad-hearted maiden who secretly mourned the inconstancy of man. Poor Mary Harris received the announcement as if it were a poisoned arrow. She had trusted him with all the simplicity of innocence, and she was unable to cast him out of her heart, even after being assured of his treachery.

In solitude she shed many tears, but never did she impart the secret of her trouble to any one. A motherless girl, her father's eyes had not been as watchful of her as of his farm duties. He knew Mannis was a visitor at the farm-house, but never imagined that the attentions paid his daughter were more than that of any other neighbor. The poor girl, knowing well her father's disposition, withheld her secret, lest Mannis should be called upon to pay the debt with his life. So she had suffered and borne her load in silence, fondly hoping the man she loved would eventually keep his promise, and save her from disgrace.

Preparations for the marriage commencing, dressmakers came, and Belle submitted herself to their manipulations. As she was unable to shed tears, the anxiety of her mother was greatly increased. Belle had met Mannis several times, but the interviews were never of long duration, the expectant bride acting like the bride of death. Mannis tried to rouse her, but she remained cold, listless, and resigned, like a lamb being prepared for slaughter. Her beautiful eyes occasionally sparkled, but all the old intelligence had been succeeded by a languid and almost meaningless look. This state of affairs could not be kept from the outside world. The dressmakers saw her condition, and of course they talked – dressmakers always do. Then Dame Rumor said the girl was slowly dying. Some attributed her decline to the death of George Alden, even accusing Belle of treating the cashier in such a manner as to make him take his own life and cause her to suffer the pangs of remorse. Another class made her the victim of a father's determination that his daughter should marry against her will; while others mercifully believed she was merely dying of quick consumption.

The wedding ceremony was to be very private, the bride's health not admitting of excitement. Mannis, somewhat disappointed, as he desired a brilliant wedding, yielded to the wishes of his betrothed. The evening before the wedding he called at the Hamblin mansion, and held an interview with Belle, remaining for an hour. When leaving he took Belle's hand in his own, and before she was aware of his intention he drew her toward him, and imprinted his first kiss upon her brow. Belle gave a spasmodic scream, placed both hands over her heart, and drew back suddenly as if bitten by a serpent.

"What is the matter, Belle?" inquired Mannis, greatly alarmed.

"My heart is bursting! Oh, leave me, please, for the present. It is only a momentary pain. To-morrow I will be well and cheerful. Yes, I will overflow with joy. Go – go, now!"

Noting the singular appearance of her face, Mannis was startled, for he saw that Belle appeared as if unconscious of her actions. Hastily leaving the room and going directly to the apartment of Mrs. Hamblin, he said:

"Belle is not well. Please go to her."

Mrs. Hamblin was quickly with her daughter, whom she found lying upon the sofa, shedding the first tears that had passed her eyelids for many days.

"Oh, mother!" she sobbed, "his lips touched my forehead, and I the wife of George Alden."

An hour later she was sleeping. As she roamed about dreamland, she passed through many familiar scenes. She paused at a little cottage, where she remained, enjoying many happy hours with her husband. As she took her departure, Walter Mannis suddenly appeared before her, and with one sweep of his hand dashed the little cottage and its beloved occupant to pieces. She shrieked and started to run, when, stretching forth his hand, he caught her by the waist, and as he placed his lips against her forehead sharp needles entered her quivering heart, causing her to cry with pain. The fright awakened her, and she could sleep no more for a long time.

The day appointed for the wedding was a gloomy one. The sky was hidden by dark clouds; rain fell during the whole day, the weather being a reflex of the hearts of all within the Hamblin mansion. Even little Geordie felt the gloom in his young heart, and wondered why a wedding-day was so sad.

The ceremony was to be witnessed only by relatives of the contracting parties. Belle's face was placid, but sad resignation to her fate beaming peacefully from her beautiful eyes, she was more like an angel than a bride.

While being dressed in travelling costume for the ceremony she was passive as a doll in the hands of her mother and maid, seeming to have lost all interest in everything about her, except her kind mother, to whom she spoke often of the future, and of saving her father from disgrace.

As the hour approached when she was to be made the wife of Walter Mannis, many tokens of affection were received from friends in the way of bridal presents.

"Take them away," she said. "They are but wreaths for a tomb."

At seven o'clock, Mrs. Hamblin entered the room, informing her daughter the bridegroom awaited her. Tears sprang to Belle's eyes as she pressed her lips warmly against a photograph of George Alden.

A moment later she stood in the parlor beside Walter Mannis. The officiating clergyman had just finished a prayer, and commenced the ceremony by taking the icy hand of the bride and placing it in that of Mannis, and was about to pronounce the words making the twain one, when the door was hastily thrown open, and a handsome, black-bearded man stood in the presence of the bridal party.

"I forbid this marriage!" he exclaimed. "The woman has a living husband."

There was astonishment on the faces of all present. Belle was the first to recognize the intruder. Throwing up her arms, she wildly cried:

"George – my husband! Thank – " and fell fainting in the arms of George Alden.

Senator Hamblin stared at the man before him as if transfixed. Mrs. Hamblin, Fannie Alden, the clergyman and all others present were like statues, still and immovable. But Mannis, having looked once at the stranger, fled hastily from the house.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

RETRIBUTIVE JUSTICE

Mannis, reaching the street, was wild with excitement. "Curse the luck! Why didn't the fellow keep away from Cleverdale? I am lost!"

Overcome by his feelings, he entered the Cleverdale Hotel, and ordering a team was soon on his homeward way, while thoughts of inevitable failure and exposure coursed through his mind. The fugitive's return and the revelation made greatly astonished him, yet he had no doubt but that Alden and Belle were really man and wife.

Reaching the old Manor at ten o'clock, he was soon in his room, where he gave way to his feelings.

"I am a doomed man; my race is about run. What a fool I have been! To-morrow the world will learn of this beautiful little tableau at Hamblin's, and I shall be the butt of all jokes. But, pshaw! what do I care for that? Other things will make the neighborhood too warm for me. I must leave here, and at once."

Walking the room, gloom gathered upon his brow as he realized the desperate game he had been playing. Suddenly his gaze fell upon a letter lying upon his writing-table, the superscription being in the delicate handwriting of Mary Harris. With trembling hands he tore off the envelope, and read as follows: