"But are none of the old employees here now?"

"No; not one. There are a few who have served a long time, but not prior to 1790."

"Failure at every point!" exclaimed Mr. Burley, with a gesture of disappointment. "But I will not despair. This clew must lead to others.

I cannot return to England without proofs of Osmund Maiden's death."

"I do not know where you will get them," said Macdonald. "The man has been missing for nearly thirty years."

"And you made constant inquiries for him in the north," I added.

"But he may not have remained in the wilderness," cried the law clerk.

"Perhaps he went south again by another road. It is even possible that he claimed his trunk and that by mistake this name was not erased."

"We never did business here in that loose way," replied the factor a little sharply. "Come, Mr. Burley, I will give you a final satisfaction.

It would be useless to search the file of receipts, for I am positive that Osmund Maiden's is not there. But I will readily show you his trunk--trunk 409. Will you please to follow me, gentlemen?"

CHAPTER XLIII.

A DRAMATIC INTERRUPTION.

It need not be said that Christopher Burley and myself accepted the factor's invitation with alacrity, though, indeed, the mere sight of the missing man's trunk promised to be but poor game. On the contrary, should the trunk not be found, it would amount to a certainty that Osmund Maiden had returned to claim his property, but I did not look for this contingency, which would throw the law clerk off the trail once more.

On the way from the office we had occasion to cross the house, and in the lower hall we came upon Flora, attired in her outdoor costume of furs. She looked at us with some surprise, standing so that we could not pa.s.s her.

"I am going for a short walk, Denzil," she said, "and I hoped you would accompany me."

"Yes, if you will wait just few moments," I replied. "We are on our way to the room where the unclaimed trunks are stored. It is a matter of some importance to Mr. Burley and I wish to see the end of it myself."

"Oh, has Mr. Burley's search been successful at last?" Flora exclaimed eagerly. "He was telling me of his fresh hopes this morning, and I was deeply interested."

"Yes, Miss Hatherton, it seems that I was on the right track," the law clerk replied. "Osmund Maiden pa.s.sed through Fort Garry nearly twenty-eight years ago. He left a trunk here--"

"And you are going to look for it?" Flora interrupted. "How curious!

Please take me with you, Denzil, if Mr. Macdonald does not object."

"Not in the least," the factor answered gallantly. "Come with us, if you like, but I warn you it will be a dusty undertaking."

"I am not afraid of dust or cobwebs," Flora said laughingly.

She slipped a hand under my arm, and as we followed Macdonald and Burley upstairs I told her in a few hurried words what we had discovered.

"It is not much," she replied. "And what good can the trunk do Mr.

Burley unless he can open it?"

"I'm afraid the factor won't permit that," said I. "He could do it only with a legal order of some sort."

By this time Macdonald had led us through two empty rooms on the upper floor, and now he stopped at the door of a third.

"This is the place," he said fitting a key in the lock.

An instant later the door swung open, revealing darkness within, and letting a musty, ancient odor escape. Christopher Burley stumbled over the threshold, and the rest of us followed him.

"This is worse than the underground pa.s.sage at Fort Royal," said Flora.

"The room needs airing badly. Are you going to give us any light, Mr.

Macdonald?"

"At once," the factor replied.

He groped his way into the darkness, fumbled a moment at a closed window, and flung the shutters wide open. The cold wintry air blew in our faces, and the rays of the sinking sun brightened every nook and corner. It was a good-sized room, and on three sides of it--except where a s.p.a.ce was left for the window--trunks and boxes were neatly stacked to the ceiling. Dust and cobwebs lent a disreputable and ruinous effect to them.

"All unclaimed," Macdonald said significantly, "and none of recent date."

For a moment the four of us stood in silence, as though under the influence of a strange spell. It was indeed an impressive and a thoughtful sight, this array of boxes and trunks, chests and cases, of all sizes and all kinds. Could these mute witnesses only have spoken! As we stared at them we wondered what had been the fate of their owners--of the daring men, young and old, who had gone forth years ago into the untrodden wilderness and never been heard of since.

"Where is his trunk?" demanded Christopher Burley, breaking the spell.

"Show it to me! I don't believe it is here!"

"We shall find it presently, I a.s.sure you," the factor answered.

With that we fell to searching, two of us at one side of the room and two at the other. Its proper number was painted in white on each box or trunk, but as the numbers were not in order, and some of them were partly obscured by dust, we were not successful at once. When we came to the stack at the end of the room, however, Flora's sharp eyes quickly discovered what we were seeking.

"There it is!" she cried, "Number 409!"

Yes, there it was--the fateful characters staring us in the face from the end of a small black trunk, next but one to the top of the heap, I felt a pang of disappointment, I had half-hoped that this mysterious Osmund Maiden had returned to claim his property, and that by an oversight the black line had not been drawn through his name. But here was evidence that strongly suggested his death in the wilderness.

"Get it down," Christopher Burley said hoa.r.s.ely. "Let me see it!"

Macdonald a.s.sented half-reluctantly. I helped him to drag the trunk from the one resting on top of it, and we placed it on the floor. It was a small affair and it seemed very light. It was low and narrow, bra.s.s-bound, and covered with decaying leather. In addition to being locked it was wrapped about with rope.

"Nothing in it but spare clothing, I should say," remarked the factor.

"It's a common enough type and was made and sold in Quebec. I know the brand."

"You are right, sir; the trunk did not come from England," said the law clerk.

"But you will surely open it, so that all doubt may be set at rest."

"I shall do nothing of the sort," Macdonald answered curtly. "Your request is impossible. I have no right to touch the trunk. How do I know that Osmund Maiden is not alive--that he will not turn up with the receipt some day?"

"I admit the possibility of that," said Christopher Burley. "Indeed, I prefer to take that view of the matter myself. But consider my perplexing situation, sir. I have reason to think that the trunk contains papers--not only doc.u.ments to prove Osmund Maiden's ident.i.ty, but a statement of what his future plans were when he left Fort Garry.

And by that means I will learn where to search for him--how to trace his afterlife. I can't return to England until I have either proved him dead or found him alive."

Macdonald shook his head.

"I must be true to my trust," he replied. "Only legal measures can empower me to open this trunk, and you can take steps to that effect if you please. You know better than I if such a remedy is within your reach. In the eyes of the law I admit Osmund Maiden would probably be accounted dead."