A. D. 2000. Fuller Alvarado Mortimer

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СКАЧАТЬ has been aroused, and you naturally have wondered why I have wanted all this ozone, especially when it has taken such an expenditure of money and time to procure it.”

      “Yes, it has; but it is gone now. I no longer have any curiosity on the subject. To-morrow morning I will have the full amount that you have requested, 45,000 grains.”

      “How much have I had already?”

      “In August, a year ago, you had about ninety grains, and in the following October, a little over 1,500 more.”

      “Yes; that was for the experiment with the cat.” He had spoken without thinking.

      Colchis looked up, surprised; a curious expression came over his face, but he said nothing.

      “Yes,” he continued, “I remember now. There were about 1,600 grains made by the old process. Had we been compelled to follow that method, we would never have completed our task.”

      “True, my boy! It was a lucky day for you, I have no doubt, when we hit upon the idea we have since employed.”

      “Come,” said Cobb, “let us sit down. I have a little more to speak of ere we part for the night.”

      They passed through the door into a smaller but neater room.

      The furniture was plain and scarce, but the fire in the grate gave the room an agreeable appearance. Colchis touched a button, and instantly a bright light shone out from a pair of Edison lamps; then, handing Cobb a glass and bottle, taken from a pile of books and papers on the table, he said:

      “Brighten up, Junius, with some of this old cognac; it is good, I can assure you, for we Frenchmen know what is good brandy. Had I a cigar, I would offer you one; but I do not smoke, so you will have to provide yourself with that article, if you smoke at all. Now, sit down,” as Cobb finished his glass of brandy, “and tell me what it is that appears to worry you. Why are you so sad to-night?”

      “There is not much to tell, master, except that this will be my last night to pass with you, my dear old friend; I am going on a long and dangerous journey, one from which I will never return – that is, to my friends now living. I go not to escape the consequences of any crime or wrong-doing, but to gratify my ambition alone. It would give me much pleasure, much happiness, could I but take with me such a dear friend as you have been; but it cannot be. Do not look startled, dear Colchis; I am not going to commit suicide; and yet, again, I am – suicide as regards all present, but not as regards the future. I will say no more, nor must you ask me any questions. For your kindness, I have only thanks to offer, unless you will confer a favor upon me by taking this check for $2,000 as a partial recompense for your labors in my behalf,” and he laid the check upon the table.

      Colchis arose from his chair, seized the check, and tore it into a hundred pieces; his eyes looked deep into those of his young friend, and then the tears came, and the old man sunk back into his chair. The friendship which had been so romantically begun between these two men was then, by Cobb, to be ended, and the sore healed by a money consideration!

      “Junius, I did not believe that you would insult me in this manner! Our friendship has been one of the brightest spots in my life. Let it end if it must, but let it end with the feeling that each has aided the other to the best of his ability, and without hope of other recompense than the knowledge that the assistance was spontaneously and willingly given. You are about to embark in some new and great enterprise; of that I feel assured, yet I do not ask its import. If you must leave the old man, never again to see him – if you must sever the friendship that has been a Godsend to the refugee from his native land – so be it; I can say no word against it, believing you would not do it were it possible to do otherwise. Let us say no more upon the subject. At six o’clock to-morrow morning send to me, and I will have the ozone ready to be delivered to your man. There will be eight pounds of it, in as many bottles.”

      “Then, there is nothing more for me to do but to take your hand, dear, kind old master, and bid you a lasting but sorrowful farewell. May a good God watch over you, Colchis, is the last wish of your friend and pupil. Good-bye!” and, saying this, Cobb pressed the old cripple to his heart.

      “Good-bye! my darling boy,” sobbed the old man. “But, Junius, does Marie know this? The child loves you. She talks of you continually. Does she know you are going away forever?” and he put both hands on the shoulders of the young man and looked him in the eyes.

      “Ah! master, master! Like a coward, like a cur, am I running away! I have seen her! I have lied to her! lied, I tell you; lied to her! and because I had not strength to tell the truth!” He buried his face in his hands, and sobbed like a child.

      “My son, cry not at what I am convinced you did for the best interests of that dear girl. My faith in you is not shaken. Let God alone judge our motives; mankind can do it not!”

      “O master! I cannot leave you in this manner! To leave you now with the simple knowledge that I will never return, would be to provoke all manner of thoughts detrimental to my honesty and sincerity of character. You shall know all! I will confide in you my secret!”

      Then by the side of this grand old man, Cobb sat and told him of his great undertaking, and of his love for his daughter.

      Half an hour after, the door opened, and Colchis, with a face grave and sad, called to his daughter Marie.

      Entering the room, she looked from one to the other, as if seeking some explanation of the quiet, sad expression of each.

      Junius Cobb bowed his head, and the hot tears fell upon his hands. Colchis turned his face away.

      Quickly going to her lover, Marie knelt at his feet, and gently raised his head until their eyes met.

      “Do not cry, Junius; do not cry. I know you cannot help yourself. Duty calls you away, and you must go. Such, you have told me, is a soldier’s fortune.”

      He clasped her to his heart.

      “Marie,” gravely and sadly spoke her father, “he leaves us to-night. When he returns, no man can tell. But let this comfort you: he has asked for your hand; your heart, I know, is his already. I have given my consent, and gladly. Let him go to his duty cheerfully, and await his return. If you are constant in the love you profess as a girl, you shall marry Junius Cobb, or no other. I swear it, as I hope for salvation hereafter,” and he raised his hand toward Heaven in token of his oath.

      Cobb raised his eyes inquiringly to those of his friend.

      What did he mean by those words? Was he, too, imposing upon the girl’s innocence? A strange light, a gleam of hope, of inspiration, shone in the eyes of Jean Colchis as he once more bade Cobb good-bye, and left the room.

      Marie and Cobb were alone – alone for the last time: she, hopeful for the future; he, broken-hearted from a knowledge of what that future was to be.

      “Junius, my own,” she murmured, “go, and do your duty. God be with you, as will always my prayers. But go with this knowledge: that I swear by the God my mother taught me to adore, that I will wait till you come to me, will be true to you forever; will marry none on earth but you.”

      How beautiful, heavenly beautiful, was this girl, standing there under the electric light.

      None can tell the passions that moved that man’s heart.

      Would he give up his great undertaking, and live and marry this Hebe, this angel? Too late! too late! The die was cast; he must meet his destiny!

      With СКАЧАТЬ