"You will have a glad welcome from both of your parents, Marian," I added.

"My mother will not reproach me," said she, as Mrs. Collingsby returned.

"Where have you been?" inquired the anxious mother, as she took the hand of her weeping daughter.

"I was deceived, mother."

"But where is Mr. Waterford?"

"I don't know; I have not seen him since day before yesterday."

Mr. Collingsby appeared in a few moments in his dressing-gown, and had evidently made a very hasty toilet.

"Marian!" exclaimed he, with a degree of emotion of which I had not supposed him capable.

"My poor child! How anxious I have been about you! for that Waterford is a scoundrel."

"I know he is, father. You were right," replied Marian, as she sobbed upon his bosom.

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

Mr. Collingsby winked very rapidly; but as it was not dignified to weep, he did not do so. He glanced at me, and he must have suspected that I saw his emotion. He was evidently ashamed of it, for he gently disengaged himself from his daughter's embrace, and fixed his stern gaze upon me.

"So you have come back, Philips?" said he.

"Yes, sir, I have come back. I had business here, and I took the liberty to call."

"Where have you been, sir?"

"After Mr. Whippleton."

"So I thought," sneered he. "I suppose it would not suit your purpose to inform me where he is now."

"On the contrary, it would exactly suit my purpose, Mr. Collingsby. He is in a carriage at the door, between two officers."

"Don't say anything harsh to Philip, father," interposed Marian, wounded by his sternness towards me. "It was he who saved me from harm, and he has brought Mr. Whippleton back, with all the money he stole."

"Do you mean so?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SAD END OF CHARLES WHIPPLETON'S CAREER. Page 317.]

I went to the door, and requested the officers to bring in their prisoner.

"Is it possible that I have been mistaken in you, young man?" added Mr.

Collingsby, glancing at me again. "I was satisfied that you had run away with my partner, because you had shared his guilt."

"You were mistaken, sir," I answered, as the officers conducted Mr.

Whippleton into the room.

The prisoner was very feeble, and was placed in an arm-chair. His head was tied up with a handkerchief, and he looked as miserable as a human being could. He was not a man of great courage, and his mishaps appeared to have broken his spirit.

"What's the matter with him?" asked Mr. Collingsby, turning to me.

"He was hurt on the head."

"Philip had a hard battle with him, father; but finally struck him down, and he fell senseless."

"I ought to add, Mr. Collingsby, that Marian was the bravest girl I ever saw. I should have lost the battle, and I doubt if you would ever have seen either your partner or your money, if she had not taken part in the struggle," I interposed.

"All this makes a very strange story."

"Perhaps you had better hear the rest of it before you judge," I replied. "I thought it possible, after I left you day before yesterday, that Mr. Whippleton had gone off in his boat, and I hastened to her moorings. My supposition was correct."

"We knew he had gone in his boat, but we supposed he would land at some town on the other side," said Mr. Collingsby. "Officers were sent to Detroit and Toledo to intercept him."

Marian and I told our story as I have already related it, and we had an attentive and interested audience.

"But what has become of Waterford?" asked one of the officers. "If he was left at the creek, he must have gone somewhere."

"He won't go far, for he has not a hundred dollars in the world," said Mr. Whippleton. "Phil defeated all our plans."

All the party looked at me so earnestly that I am afraid I blushed; for, conceited as I am, it disturbs me to be made a hero.

"What were your plans, Mr. Whippleton?" asked Mr. Collingsby.

"I suppose I have nothing to gain by concealment," replied the culprit.

"If I had never seen Waterford, I might have been an honest man to-day.

I went into some land speculations with him. We bought two hundred acres at Bloomvale, confident that the new Blank and Plank Railroad would pa.s.s through the centre of it, for it was one of the routes surveyed, and we had an a.s.surance that it would be the one adopted.

Instead of coming direct to the city, as we were almost certain it would, they tapped the North Central, and left our land ten miles from any road, and good for nothing but farming purposes. We spent ten thousand dollars in log-rolling in the legislature, and were defeated in the end. I took forty thousand dollars out of the funds of the firm, which I intended to replace when I sold my land. Phil's trial balance first frightened me, and finding that I could not get out of the sc.r.a.pe, I decided to take what money I could get, and go to China, where I hoped to win a fortune, and make good my losses here. I had started for Europe when I left in the Florina, and should have got off if Phil had not followed me."

I was a hero in spite of myself.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

IN WHICH PHIL MORALIZES UPON WORLDLY WISDOM, AND BIDS FAREWELL TO DESK AND DEBIT.

The conference was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Collingsby, senior, who had been sent for. He gave his granddaughter a very cordial greeting, and the events which had transpired were all rehea.r.s.ed for his benefit.

"How did you expect to get away in your yacht?" asked the senior partner.

"Waterford was to go with me. A friend in St. Joseph had offered me a thousand dollars for my boat, and I expected to sell her to him. We then intended to sail through the lakes to Collingwood, and proceed to Montreal. Waterford was to have made Marian his wife at St. Joseph."