"Take me to him."

Opening the door connecting the two rooms, Houston signaled to those within to leave the room, then led the father into the presence of the son whom he had so long mourned as dead.

Mr. Cameron walked to the bedside, and looked long and earnestly upon the white face, drawn with pain, but still beautiful, and bearing to a great extent, the imprint of his own features; then as he tenderly clasped the hand lying upon the sheet, he murmured brokenly, between great, tearless sobs:

"It is he, my boy, my son! Thank G.o.d, it is not too late!"

CHAPTER XLVII.

There was a long consultation between the physicians and surgeons following a careful and thorough examination of their patient, before the rendering of their decision.

He had received various injuries of a serious character, but the injury to the head was far the most dangerous of all. There was a possibility that with the most careful nursing and the most skillful medical aid, he might live, but his recovery was exceedingly doubtful,--one chance out of a hundred.

"Do your best," was Mr. Cameron's reply to this decision, "do your best, regardless of cost; if you wish counsel, have it; send out another nurse, the best you can secure, to relieve this one, and I wish one or the other of you gentlemen to remain here constantly, we must not be left without a physician. I may as well inform you now,"

Mr. Cameron added, with great dignity, in conclusion, "that your patient is my son."

Astonishment was depicted upon the faces of the physicians, but Mr.

Cameron continued:

"For some months my nephew has been out here incognito, engaged in unearthing the dishonest schemes and plots of the mining company who const.i.tuted our western agents, and I have just discovered that he was aided in this work by my son, who, unknown to me, was out here in disguise, working with the same end in view. You will, of course, understand, gentlemen, that money is no object; do everything within your power, and you shall be abundantly compensated."

Thus it was arranged that one or two physicians were constantly at the house, and when these returned to Silver City for a few hours, others took their places.

A competent cook and housekeeper were also sent out from Silver City, as the excitement resulting from the terrible events of that day, together with her husband's connection therewith, which had in some way become generally known, proved too much for the feeble strength of Mrs. Maverick, and she was prostrated by the shock.

Minty, terror-stricken by the results which she believed had followed her report to Haight, and by his fearful fate, in a fit of hysteria, confessed the share she had taken in the plot, and was summarily dismissed.

After the coming of Mr. Cameron with the surgeons and nurse, Lyle and Leslie had withdrawn from the sick-room, and busied themselves in caring for Mrs. Maverick, and in superintendence of the necessary work; Van Dorn, whose astonishment at the revelations of the last two days was beyond expression, keeping them informed of the condition of the sufferer. Lyle was pale with excitement, but calmly and bravely took her place as head of the strangely a.s.sorted household, her heart throbbing wildly as she antic.i.p.ated the meeting with Mr. Cameron.

Within the sick-room the soft, gray twilight had deepened into darkness. At one side of the bed sat the nurse, his fingers upon the pulse of the patient, while he listened attentively to his breathing, now becoming irregular, and broken by low moans and occasional mutterings. On the other side sat Mr. Cameron, his head bowed upon his hands, his mind going back to the years of Guy's childhood and youth.

How vividly he recalled many little incidents, seemingly trivial when they occurred, but carefully treasured among the most precious memories in the long, sad years that followed! With the memory of his son, his heart's pride and joy, came also that of the beautiful daughter, with her golden hair and starry eyes, the light of their home in those happy days.

Mr. Cameron seemed lost in thought, but in reality, while thus reviewing the past, his mind was keenly conscious of the present. In one corner sat the faithful Mike, while at his feet lay the equally faithful Rex, who could be neither coaxed nor driven from the room, but remained quietly watching his master's face, an almost human love and sorrow looking out of his eyes, as he answered the occasional moans with a low, piteous whine.

In another corner Everard talked in low tones with the two physicians who were to remain that night, Mr. Cameron taking cognizance, in the midst of his own sorrowful thoughts, of every word.

At length some one called for a light, and a moment later, Mr. Cameron was conscious of a light step crossing the room, and of a lamp being placed on the table near the physicians, though none of its rays fell in the direction of the sufferer. Lifting his head, he saw the lamp with a screen so attached as to throw a shade over almost the entire room, leaving only a small portion lighted; but within that brightly illumined portion he had a glimpse, for an instant, of a face, which with its radiant eyes and its shining aureole of golden hair, was so nearly a counterpart of the one but just recalled so vividly to his mind, that it seemed a living reproduction of the same. Only a glimpse, for as he started, wondering if it could be a figment of his own imagination, the face suddenly vanished into the shadow, and the figure glided from the room. Still it haunted him; could there have been a real resemblance? or was it only a hallucination of his own?

About an hour later, Houston, who had observed his uncle's involuntary start of surprise on seeing Lyle, and who was anxious that he should learn the truth as early as possible, slipping his arm within that of his uncle's, led him out upon the porch, where they lighted their cigars, smoking for a few moments in silence, then talking together in low tones of the one so dear to each of them, while Houston related the details of his first meeting and early acquaintance with the miner, Jack.

"Even if Guy cannot recover," said Mr. Cameron, in tremulous tones, when Houston had finished, "Yet if he lives long enough to see and recognize his mother and myself, and realize our feeling for him--even then, I shall be more than repaid for your coming out here,--though all else were lost."

"Indeed you would," responded Houston, "but I cannot help feeling that Guy's life will be spared, that he will live to bless your future years. But my dear uncle," he continued, very slowly, "although you are yet unaware of it, you have nearly as much, if not an equal cause for joy in another direction."

"I do not understand you, Everard; you surely do not allude to the property?"

"No, very far from that; did you notice the young girl who came into Guy's room to-night?"

"To bring the light?"

"The same."

"Yes, and I intended to inquire of you concerning her. Her face impressed me strangely; I cannot tell whether it was a fact or my own imagination, but I had been thinking of the children,--Guy and his sister,--as they were years ago, and it seemed to me that her face, as I saw it for an instant, was almost an exact counterpart of my own Edna's, as she used to look, even to the hair and eyes which were very peculiar."

"It was no imagination on your part, the resemblance is very marked, not only in face, but in voice and manner as well."

"How do you account for it?" asked Mr. Cameron quickly, "Who is she?"

"She is the one who, of all the world, would have the best right to resemble your daughter," replied Houston; then, in answer to Mr.

Cameron's look of perplexed inquiry, he continued:

"Pardon me, uncle, for any painful allusion, but at the time of my cousin's death, I believe you had no direct proof as to the fate of her child?"

"No absolute proof, of course," replied Mr. Cameron, "only the testimony of those who identified the mother, that there was no child with her, and no child among any of those saved answering to the description given, from which we naturally supposed the little one to have been killed outright. Why, Everard," he exclaimed, as a new thought occurred to him, "you certainly do not think this Edna's child, do you?"

"Why might it not be possible?" inquired Houston, wishing to lead his uncle gradually up to the truth.

"Is this her home?" asked Mr. Cameron in turn.

"Yes," said Houston, "this has been her home, I believe, for the last ten years."

"If the supposition mentioned a moment ago were correct, how would she be here, amid such surroundings?"

"Do you know the man who runs this house?" Houston asked.

"A man by the name of Maverick had charge of it when I was out here years ago; I do not know whether he is still here."

"He is; do you know him? Did you ever have any business with him personally?"

"Yes, I had him in my employ years ago, in the east, and was obliged to discharge him for dishonesty."

"Thereby incurring his life-long hatred and enmity, so that years afterward, he sought to wreak his revenge upon you by stealing from the wrecked train, where your daughter lost her life, the little child who would otherwise have been your solace in that time of bereavement."

"Everard!" exclaimed Mr. Cameron, "are you sure you are correct? What proof have you of this?"

"The proofs were not discovered until recently," Houston replied, "although we knew that they existed, but now this girl has found a letter from Maverick's wife confessing the whole crime, and stating that it was committed through a spirit of revenge; and she also has in her possession the articles of clothing she wore at the time she was stolen, together with a locket containing her mother's picture and her own name,--Marjorie Lyle Washburn."

"That is enough," said Mr. Cameron briefly, "let me see her, Everard."

Houston stepped within the house, reappearing a few moments later, with Lyle. Very beautiful she looked as she came forward in the soft radiance of the moonlight, a child-like confidence shining in the lovely eyes.

Mr. Cameron rose to meet her, and taking both her hands within his own, he stood for an instant, gazing into the beautiful face.

"My dear child, my own Edna!" he said in broken tones, folding her closely within his arms, "Thank G.o.d for another child restored to us from the dead!"