Reels and Spindles: A Story of Mill Life

by Evelyn Raymond

The facts were these: the glittering coins had, when estimated, been of about one thousand dollars' value. To Fayette this seemed an enormous sum; to Mr. Wingate, a trifle. In the chest with the treasure had been also a time-yellowed letter, or memorandum, signed by the wife of Jacob Ingraham, and decreeing that the property thus hidden had been placed by her own hands in the wall of the cellar of "Spite House" for the "benefit of my nearest of kin."

The document, in itself, was as curious as its hiding-place, and proved that the ancient dame had been a keen observer of men's failings, if not their virtues.

"For I have seen, in this, my lifetime, that gold profits a man nothing. It is ever a bone of contention, and he who has it is poorer than he who has it not. I hope this chest will do him good who finds it; and if it is never found, then the earth will be so much the richer by this small portion of the wealth it has lost. In any case, to prevent evil, and, if possible, to secure a blessing, I have said one prayer over each coin herein disposed, and so, in duty to my conscience, I lock the box and throw the key down the old well of this Bareacre knoll."

The letter had further added that nobody, not even Jacob Ingraham, had known of this bestowal of the chest, because had anybody, "most of all, he," so known, it would have been excavated and its contents scattered.

Now Archibald Wingate was, on his mother's side, the last direct descendant of Mrs. Ingraham, and the property was clearly his. To him, as soon as he returned from his prolonged stay out of town, the broken chest and intact contents had been given by the superintendent, who, Mr. Kaye promptly decided, would be the proper guardian of the treasure until his employer returned.

There had been a terrible scene with Fayette when Cleena told him this decision, and for several days thereafter the lad had not been visible. Some thought he had gone off in one of his wanderings through the woods and fields; but the truth was, he had been kept under lock and key by the energetic and masterful Cleena Keegan. She had assured that patient listener, herself, that:—

"Sure, it do be right. Will I lose all the good we have gained for the sake o' bad temper? The end's in sight,—the blessed end o' the secrecy, an' the weary struggle o' keepin' me gineral's nose to the grindstone, and now to leave go? Not while Cleena Keegan draws a free breath, an' can handle a silly gossoon, like him yon."

From the first it had been a strange and powerful influence that this good woman exercised over the foundling she adopted, and fortunately his imprisonment was not so very long, else it would have been impossible to conceal it from the rest of the household; not one of whom did, however, suspect such a proceeding.

When the object for which she had restrained him of his liberty seemed quite gained, Cleena let Fayette go; and, oddly enough, after his liberty was granted him, he no longer cared for it. He kept close to Bareacres, bare no longer, but teeming with the rich vegetation resulting from his own labor, guided by Frederic Kaye's trained judgment. The summer had proved a most interesting as well as busy one to both these gardeners. The results of their mutual labor were harvested and stored for the family's winter use, and Fayette had returned to the mill. Idleness, or the want of that regular employment he had enjoyed, now reawoke the dark thoughts which had disturbed his clouded brain during the time of his "retreat" under Cleena's compelling will.

This day, when Amy watched her cousin through the glass partition, and waited with Mary for Hallam to complete his own task in a room adjoining the private office of Mr. Wingate, Fayette was hanging about the mill, as if himself waiting for some one.