第93章
"Yes, he has. That's the queer part of it. At the place where he boarded we learned that he got a letter from Arizona--trust the average landlady to look at postmarks--that he seemed greatly agitated all that day, and left that night. No one has seen him since. Why he went is a puzzle. Where, we don't care. So long as he keeps out of our way, that's enough."Captain Cy did not care, either. He surmised that Mr. Atkins might probably explain the disappearance. And yet, oddly enough, this explanation was not the true one. The Honorable Heman solemnly assured the captain that he had not communicated with Emily's father. He intended to do so, as a part of the compact agreed upon at the hotel, but the man had fled. And the mystery is still unsolved. The supposition is that there really was a wife somewhere in the West. Who or where she was no Bayporter knows. Henry Thomas has never come back to explain.
"I told Miss Dawes of the photograph and what it proved," went on Peabody. "She was dreadfully disappointed. She could hardly speak when she left me. I urged her to come in and see you, but she wouldn't. Evidently she had set her heart on helping you and the child. It is too bad, because, practically speaking, we owe everything to her. There is little doubt that the inquiry set on foot by her scared the Thomas fellow into flight. And she has worked night and day to aid us. She is a very clever woman, Captain Whittaker, and a good one. You can't thank her enough.
Here! what are you about?"
Captain Cy strode past him into the dining room. The hat rack hung on the wall by the side door. He snatched his cap from the peg, and was struggling into his overcoat.
"Where are you going?" demanded the lawyer. "You mustn't attempt to walk now. You need rest.""Rest! I'll rest by and by. Just now I've got business to attend to. Let go of that pea-jacket.""But--"
"No buts about it. I'll see you later. So long."He threw open the door and hurried down the walk. The lawyer watched him in amazement. Then a slow smile overspread his face.
"Captain," he called. "Captain Whittaker."
Captain Cy looked back over his shoulder. "What do you want?" he asked.
Mr. Peabody's face was now intensely solemn, but there was a twinkle in his eye.
"I think she's at the boarding house," he said demurely. "I'm pretty certain you'll find her there."All the regulars at the perfect boarding house had, of course, attended the reception at the Cy Whittaker place. None of them, with the exception of the schoolmistress, had as yet returned.
Dinner had been forgotten in the excitement of the great day, and Keturah and Angeline and Mrs. Tripp had stopped in at various dwellings along the main road, to compare notes on the captain's appearance and the Atkins address. Asaph and Bailey and Alpheus Smalley were at Simmons's.
Captain Cy knew better than to attempt his hurried trip by way of the road. He had no desire to be held up and congratulated. He went across lots, in the rear of barns and orchards, wading through drifts and climbing fences as no sane convalescent should. But the captain at that moment was suffering from the form of insanity known as the fixed idea. She had done all this for him--for HIM.
And his last message to her had been an insult.
He approached the Bangs property by the stable lane. No one locks doors in our village, and those of the perfect boarding house were unfastened. He entered by way of the side porch, just as he had done when Gabe Lumley's depot wagon first deposited him in that yard. But now he entered on tiptoe. The dining room was empty.
He peeped into the sitting room. There, by the center table, sat Phoebe Dawes, her elbow on the arm of her chair, and her head resting on her hand.
"Ahem! Phoebe!" said Captain Cy.
She started, turned, and saw him standing there. Her eyes were wet, and there was a handkerchief in her lap.
"Phoebe," said the captain anxiously, "have you been cryin'?"She rose on the instant. A great wave of red swept over her face.
The handkerchief fell to the floor, and she stooped and picked it up.
"Crying?" she repeated confusedly. "Why, no, of course--of course not! I-- How do you do, Captain Whittaker? I'm--we're all very glad to see you home again--and well."She extended her hand. Captain Cy reached forward to take it; then he hesitated.
"I don't think I'd ought to let you shake hands with me, Phoebe,"he said. "Not until I beg your pardon."
"Beg my pardon? Why?"
He absently took the hand and held it.
"For the word I sent to you when I went away. 'Twas an awful thing to say, but I meant it for your sake, you know. Honest, I did."She laughed nervously.
"Oh! that," she said. "Well, I did think you were rather particular as to your visitors. But Mr. Tidditt explained, and then-- You needn't beg my pardon. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I knew you meant to be kind to me.""That's what I did. But you didn't obey orders. You kept comin'. Now, why--"
"Why? Did you suppose that _I_ cared for the malicious gossip of--such people? I came because you were in trouble, and I hoped to help you. And--and I thought I had helped, until a few minutes ago."Her lip quivered. That quiver went to the captain's heart.
"Helped?" he faltered. "Helped? Why, you've done so much that Ican't ever thank you. You've been the only real helper I've had in all this miserable business. You've stood by me all through.""But it was all wrong. He isn't the man at all. Didn't Mr. Peabody tell you?"