“After walking about until my nerves were so settled that I thought I should have no further difficulty in winning the spirit of sleep, I bent my steps toward home. But my approach was checked by the sight of somebody prowling around the house. At first I thought it was my nephew, the manner of his dress giving me the impression, but his singular actions speedily convinced me that I was mistaken. I stood and watched the man with some curiosity, wondering what he meant by sneaking around my cabin at that late hour. He went clear around the house in a stooping posture, and when he arrived at the point where I had first seen him, he turned and ran away at the top of his speed. He came straight toward the spot where I was standing. Moved by a sudden impulse, I jumped behind a tree to let him pass without discovering me. The man approached swiftly on tiptoe. I heard him breathing hard, as if with excitement, as he came up. Somewhat to my alarm he stopped within three feet of my hiding-place, and looked back. This pause in his flight was of scarcely more than a moment’s duration, but that was enough. Within that moment I distinctly heard him say:
“‘It is done—it is done! Doctor Trafford will never leave that house alive! The deed will be imputed to his upstart of a nephew, and my purpose will be accomplished!’
“The next instant he was gone. I had not recognized the fellow, nor his voice, nor had I time to follow him before he was out of sight. A light, flashing in my face, startled me. I looked toward my cabin, and saw that it was in flames. I guessed the truth at once. The unknown had set fire to the building for the purpose of burning me in my bed. The words I had heard fall from his mouth convinced me of this fact, and, as I reflected, I began to suspect that the would-be-murderer was Jim McCabe. I could not think that this man had any direct cause to attempt my life, but I knew that Russell was his rival in love, and I thought it quite probable that he had chosen this circuitous way of getting rid of his rival. The prowler had said, in my hearing, that I could not escape with my life—that my nephew would receive the penalty of the deed—and that thus his purpose would be accomplished. This led me to believe that the blow was aimed at Russell, after all, indirect as it was.
“By this time there was an uproar all around me, and people were pouring out of their homes to see the fire. I saw them gathering around the burning structure, but I did not move. An idea struck me. I hastily decided to steal away from the fort, and leave you all to suppose that I was really roasted alive in my own house. Then I could return in disguise, and hunt out the real perpetrator of that night’s work, nor make myself known until I had proved his guilt. I went. By careful maneuvering I managed to get outside of the stockade unseen, the sentry at the gate having temporarily deserted his post at the alarm of fire. Once beyond the limits of the fort, I felt that my flight was well commenced. I then struck out in a southerly direction, and traveled many, many weary miles toward the interior.
“At last I came upon a solitary hut in the woods. I found it occupied by a good-natured old hunter, who gave me rest, shelter and food. Luckily, I had met with the right man, for the old hunter furnished me with this disguise, with which I have deceived you all. He told me it had been of great service to him while acting in the capacity of spy, in the French and Indian War, and amused me with the recital of many thrilling adventures through which he had passed. Having assumed the appearance of an old rover of the forest, and the name of Nick Robbins, I returned to this place. I arrived here at the very hour that my nephew was to be executed. I was astonished, and thought at first that I would have to reveal myself in order to save him. But I did not. You will remember that I ascended the scaffold, and talked with Kirby Kidd. He told me of the artifice resorted to by which they hoped to save Russell’s life, and on hearing that, I concluded to wear my disguise yet longer.
“When the hanging affair was over, I consigned myself assiduously to the task of watching McCabe, and clearing the name of my innocent ward. How I succeeded in my self-imposed mission you have been told. During all, only four persons, besides myself, knew that I was other than what I seemed; those four were Kirby Kidd and his Indian friend, Isabel Moreland and my nephew.”
Doctor Trafford ended his explanation with this, and for some time after he had ceased speaking, all seemed to be occupied with their own thoughts. Then a raw-boned, bean-pole-looking individual, who could not get the idea out of his head that he was in the presence of a ghost, drawled out:
“That ’ere’s all very fine, doc., but how the de’il are you goin’ to account for the skeleton we found in the ruins of your house?”
Doctor Trafford smiled.