The Last Cruise of the Spitfire/Chapter 30
CHAPTER XXX.
AN UNEXPECTED DEATH.
I was alarmed when my uncle fell back in his chair as one dead. I knew that his heart was affected, and that any sudden shock might prove serious to him.
"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Canning, starting forward.
"The news has been too much for him," I replied.
"You've killed my father!" cried Gus, white with fear. "He's troubled with his heart, and what you have said has done him up."
"I sincerely trust not," replied the junior partner. "Let us raise him up, and some one go for a doctor."
We made him as comfortable as possible and opened all the doors and windows. Then while Gus hurried off for a physician, Mr. Canning applied his ear to the unconscious man's breast.
"His heart still beats," he exclaimed. "I trust he gets over it."
We procured some water and bathed my uncle's face, and Mr. Canning poured some wine that was in the desk down his throat.
"Is this report true?" he asked as we were doing what we could for the unfortunate man.
"Yes, sir, it is."
The junior partner shook his head.
"I have suspected Mr. Stillwell for some time," he said slowly. "I was not in the firm a week before I was sorry I had invested my money with them."
"Do you think I am guilty?"
"Hardly, Foster; but Mr. Stillwell seemed so positive."
"I don't think the money was ever put in the safe, sir," I went on.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because Mr. Stillwell was not acting rightly about my late father's estate, and as I was beginning to suspect him he wished to get me out of the way."
"Ah, I see! I am afraid he has got himself in a bad fix."
"I am afraid so too, but it is not my fault, Mr. Canning."
A moment later Gus returned with a doctor. The physician shook his head when he beheld my uncle.
"I have been called to attend him once before," he said. "He is not at all strong, and this may prove worse than you imagine."
"Will it be fatal?" I cried.
"I trust not, but I cannot say for certain. The best thing is to get him home where he can have perfect quiet."
At these words Gus began to shed tears. I could not help but feel sorry for him, and also for my aunt and my cousin Lillian when they should hear the news.
I went out and procured the easiest coach I could find, and inside of it we placed Mr. Stillwell, with the physician beside him, and Gus on the seat with the driver.
"Are you coming along?" asked my cousin.
"No; but I will be up later," I replied.
We watched the coach out of sight up the busy street, and then Mr. Canning and I returned to the office.
"It is a bad state of affairs," said the junior partner. "I doubt, after what the doctor has said, if your uncle ever puts foot in the office again."
"I hardly know what to do," I replied.
And to tell the truth, my mind was in a whirl of excitement. The unexpected turn of affairs bewildered me.
While we were discussing matters there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Mason came in.
"What, Foster, back already! I knew you were coming, but did not expect you so soon."
"Did you receive Mr. Ranson's letter?" I asked.
"Yes; and came to have a talk with Mr. Stillwell. Where is he?"
In a few words I told him what had happened. The lawyer was much surprised.
"This will change things a great deal, especially if your uncle does not recover," he said. "I think we ought to go up to the house and see him."
"But he is very ill—" I began.
"All the more reason we should see him. He may have something to say before his death, if this stroke is fatal."
I could not help but shiver at the words. It seemed awful to me that my uncle should die, at such a time, when he was least prepared!
"I'll do whatever you think best, Mr. Mason," I replied.
"Then come. We will go at once. Delays are always dangerous."
In a moment more we were on the way. While seated in the Elevated car he asked me to tell him my whole story, and I did so, just as I have written it here.
"Will you let me see that letter from London?" he asked.
I did so. He read it carefully.
"I believe this Nottington is right," he said. "I have found that he is a gentleman in good standing, and that counts for much."
"I wish Mr. Banker had been my guardian from the start," I replied.
When we arrived at my uncle's home I found that he had been brought in but ten minutes before. The entire household was in a great state of alarm in consequence.
We met my aunt in the lower hall. No sooner did she catch sight of me than she swooped down upon me.
"You are to blame for all this, Luke Foster," she cried in her shrill voice.
"I can't see how," I replied as calmly as I could.
"You are. You upset him by robbing the safe and then running away."
"I don't think the boy is guilty, madam," put in Mr. Mason. "We all make mistakes, and"
"There is no mistake here. If my husband dies this boy will be the sole cause."
And without waiting for a reply Mrs. Stillwell swept by us and up the stairs.
I took Mr. Mason into the parlor, a room that I hardly knew, although I had lived in the house about two years. Presently Gus came down the stairs.
"You here!" he exclaimed. "What brought you? Haven't you done harm enough?"
"I don't want to do harm. I thought I might just see your father, and then go away."
"Well, he just asked for you," was Gus's unexpected reply. "But ma said you weren't to be let up."
"If he asked I'm going," I said with a sudden determination.
I ran up the stairs at once. At the head I met Mrs. Stillwell.
"Where are you going?" she asked coldly.
"To see Uncle Felix."
"Well, I guess you are not!"
"Gus says he asked for me."
"I don't care. You shall not see the poor man."
"Excuse me, madam, but I will," I replied, and brushed past her and on to the door of my uncle's room.
She caught me by the arm.
"You just march downstairs!" she cried.
"Is that Luke?" came a feeble voice from within.
"Yes, Uncle Felix," I hastened to reply.
"Let him come in, dear; I must see him."
With a very bad grace Mrs. Stillwell allowed me to enter. At first she was about to follow, but her husband motioned her away, and she was forced to withdraw.
My uncle lay on the bed. His face was deadly white and awfully haggard. He held out his hand.
"I'm glad you've come, Luke," he said, with something that sounded like a sigh. "The doctor tells me I cannot last long."
"Oh, Uncle Felix!"
"Never mind, it is for the best. I have done wrong, and death is better than public disgrace. Did you come alone?"
"No, sir; Mr. Mason is with me."
"Mason!"
"Yes, sir; I asked him to come with me. He is to be my lawyer if I am arrested."
"Do not fear; you will not be. I own up; that money was not stolen. I was afraid you had brought with you the officers of the law. Do you know anything of this this Spitfire affair?"
"I know all about it. I was on board the vessel when she burned."
"You!"
My uncle was greatly astonished, and he finally persuaded me to tell my story. When I had concluded he asked me to call up Mr. Mason, and I did so.
The three of us were closeted for fully an hour. What took place will be told hereafter.
At the end of the interview my uncle was very weak. The doctor was called in and he revived him, but it was not for long. He died at sundown.
His funeral, three days later, was a large one, made up, not only of mourners, but also of those who came out of curiosity to see the remains of the man who had lived such a double life.