of the man to whom you were engaged if they were told you; you must see the proof with your own eyes. And he showed it to you."
"But then," she begged, distractedly, "why couldn't he tell me after that? I--I am so stupid, I suppose--but, Mr. Sylvester, all this is--is--"
"He might have told you then, but he did not think it best. Caroline, your uncle has always believed in you. Even when you sent him from your home he did not blame you; he said you were deceived, that was all. But, too, he has always declared that you had been, as he expressed it, 'brought up wrong.' Your money had, in a way, warped your estimate of people and things. He believed that, if you were given the opportunity, you would learn that wealth does not, of itself, mean happiness. So he decided not to tell you, not to give you back your share of your father's money--he refuses to consider it his--until another year, until you were of age, at least. And there was Steve. You know, Caroline, that money and what it brought was spoiling Steve. He has never been so much a man as during the past year, when he thought himself poor. But your uncle has planned for him as well as for you and, when he believes the time has come, he--"
"Please," she interrupted, falteringly; "please don't say any more. Let me think. Oh, please let me think, Mr. Sylvester.... You say that Uncle Elisha intends giving us all that father took from him? All of it?"
"Yes, all. He considers himself merely your guardian still and will accept only his expenses from the estate."
"But--but it is wonderful!"
"Yes, it is. But I have learned to think him a wonderful man."
She shook her head.
"It is wonderful!" she repeated, brokenly. "Even though we cannot take it, it is wonderful."
"What? Cannot take it?"
"Of course not! Do you suppose that either my brother or I will take the fortune that our father stole--yes, _stole_ from him? After he has been living almost in poverty all these years and we in luxury--on _his_ money? Of course we shall not take it!"
"But, Caroline, I imagine you will have to take it. I understand your feelings, but I think he will compel you to take it."
"I shall _not_!" she sprang to her feet. "Of course I shall not! Never! never!"
"What's that you're never goin' to take, Caroline? Measles? or another trip down in these parts? I hope 'tain't the last, 'cause I've been cal'latin' you'd like it well enough to come again."
Caroline turned. So did Sylvester. Captain Elisha was standing in the doorway, his hand on the knob. He was smiling broadly, but as he looked at the two by the fire he ceased to smile.
"What's all this?" he asked, suspiciously. "Caroline, what--Sylvester, what have you been tellin' her?"
Neither answered at once. The captain looked from one to the other.
"Well, what's up?" he demanded. "What's the matter?"
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
"What's up?" he repeated. "Humph! well, I should say the jig was up. The murder's out. The cat is no longer in the bag. That's about the size of it."
"Sylvester!" Caroline had never seen her uncle thoroughly angry before; "Sylvester," he cried, "have you--Have you dast to tell her what you shouldn't? Didn't you promise me? If you told that girl, I'll--I'll--"
His niece stepped forward. "Hush, Uncle Elisha," she said. "He didn't tell me until I knew already. I guessed it. Then I asked for the whole truth, and he told me."
"The whole truth? _Caroline!_"
He wrung his hands.
"Yes, Uncle, the whole truth. I know you now. I thought I knew you before; but I didn't--not half. I do now."
"Oh, Caroline!" he stepped toward her and then stopped, frantic and despairing. "Caroline! Caroline!" he cried again, "can you ever forgive me? You know--you must know I ain't ever meant to keep it. It's all yours. I just didn't give it to you right off because ... because.... Oh, Sylvester, tell her I never meant to keep it! Tell her!"
The lawyer shook his head. "I did tell her," he said, with another shrug, "and she tells me she won't accept it."
"What?" the captain's eyes were starting from his head. "What? Won't take it? Why, it's hers--hers and Steve's! It always has been! Do you cal'late I'd rob my own brother's children? _Don't_ talk so foolish! I won't hear such talk!"
Caroline was close to tears, but she was firm.
"It isn't ours," she said. "It is yours. Our father kept it from you all these years. Do you suppose we will keep it any longer?"
Captain Elisha looked at her determined face; then at the lawyer's--but he found no help there. His chin thrust forward. He nodded slowly.
"All right! all right!" he said, grimly. "Sylvester, is your shop goin' to be open to-morrer?"
"Guess not, Captain," was the puzzled reply. "It's Thanksgiving. Why?"
"But Graves'll be to home, won't he? I could find him at his house?"
"I presume you could."
"All right, then! Caroline Warren, you listen to me: I'll give you till two o'clock to make up your mind to take the money that belongs to you. If you don't, I swear to the Lord A'mighty I'll take the fust train, go straight to New York, hunt up Graves, make him go down to the office and get that note your father made out turnin' all his property over to that Akrae Company. I'll get that note and I'll burn it up. Then--_then_ you'll have to take the money, because it'll be yours. Every bit of evidence that'll hold in law is gone, and nobody but you and Steve'll have the shadow of a claim. I'll do it, so sure as I live! There! now you can make up your mind."
He turned, strode to the door and out of the room. A moment later they heard a scream from Miss Baker in the kitchen: "'Lisha Warren, what ails you? Are you crazy?" There was no answer, but the back door closed with a tremendous bang.
* * * * *
Half an hour after his dramatic exit Captain Elisha was pacing up and down the floor of the barn. It was an old refuge of his, a place where he was accustomed to go when matters requiring deliberation and thought oppressed him. He was alone. Dan had taken the horse to the blacksmith's to be shod.
The captain strode across the floor, turned and strode back again. Every few moments he looked at his watch. It was a long way to two o'clock, but each additional moment was another weight piled upon his soul. As he turned in his stride he saw a shadow move across the sill of the big, open door. He caught his breath and stopped.
Caroline entered the barn. She came straight to him and put her hands upon the lapels of his coat. Her eyes were wet and shining.
"Caroline?" he faltered, eagerly.
"You good man!" she breathed, softly. "Oh, you _good_ man!"
"Caroline!" his voice shook, but there was hope in it. "Caroline, you're goin' to take the money?"
"Yes, Uncle Elisha. Mr. Sylvester has shown me that I must. He says you will do something desperate if I refuse."
"I sartin would! And you'll take it, really?"
"Yes, Uncle Elisha."
"Glory be! And--and, Caroline, you won't hold it against me, my makin' you think you was poor, and makin' you live in that little place, and get along on just so much, and all that? Can you forgive me for doin' that?"
"Forgive you? Can I ever thank you enough? I know I can't; but I can try all my life to prove what--"
"S-s-h-h! s-s-h!... There!" with a great sigh, almost a sob, of relief, "I guess