CHAPTER XXVI
The address on my card brought Gabrielle directly to my rooms, and when I returned I found the lovers blissfully united, after only one day of direst wretchedness. They rushed toward me as I entered and doubly embraced me. I was the crowned hero—crowned with more praise than I could well carry.
"How happy you have made us!" cried Gabrielle. "You cruel joker; but we forgive you. Oh, you do not know—you can never know the service you have performed this day. Our lives would have been ruined had you not been here to manage this affair."
"Ben, I forgive you for writing those letters, now. You are the greatest man that ever lived. George Washington couldn't class with you," said Jim.
"Probably not," said I. "I certainly told many a good lie when I wrote those letters. You set me on fire and saved me. I have done the same for you."
Jim was radiant and rosy as in the old days. Gabrielle never looked more beautiful. Wasn't I happy!
We talked it all over, and I laid a wager with them both that Mr. Tescheron would repent that night to Gabrielle before she could tell him of her definite plans. I did not tell them why I thought I was betting on a sure thing.
I carried out telegrams of joy and summonses to the Gibsons and Hygeia.