"You must tell me, Father Hanz," said she, encircling his neck with her right arm and patting him on the cheek encouragingly and affectionately with her left hand, "who has caused you all this trouble."
Hanz looked up earnestly and enquiringly into her face. Still there was a doubt in that look it was impossible to mistake.
"You ton't know, eh? you ton't know, eh? Maype as he is petter as you ton't know, mine shild. T' man what prings shorrow into mine house; t' man what shays I pees one tief t' mine neighpors—dat man he pees no friend of mine." Again the old man paused, and looked up inquiringly into Mattie's sweet face, as if anxious to trace the secret of her thoughts. And as he did so the breeze tossed the grey hairs over his forehead, as if to cover up the wrinkles age had written on it.
"Mine taughter, mine taughter," he resumed, grasping Mattie's hand firmly, "I'se gettin' old now. Tare von't pe no more of old Hanz Toodleburg shoon. You never know'd nothin' pad of old Hanz Toodleburg—does you, mine taughter?"
"Never, never! Why, Father Hanz, nobody has been saying anything against you," replied Mattie, smiling.
"Dar has, too," resumed Hanz. "What I lives for now is mine goot name, and mine poor Tite. I pees a friend to everypody what needs a friend, and now what I needs mineshelf is one goot friend. You she, mine taughter, if mine little farm he pees gone, and if mine sheep, and mine cows, and mine everything pees gone, den der is nothin' for mine Tite when he comes home."
The old man paused for a moment. It was impossible for him to keep the secret of his trouble from Mattie any longer. He opened his heart to her and disclosed the fact that it was her own father who had brought sorrow into his home. Yes, it was her father who had led him like a child into trouble, and then thrown around his acts such a chain of suspicious circumstances that you could scarcely find a man in the village, where but a short time ago Hanz was so great a favorite, who did not believe him guilty of inventing the Kidd Discovery Company, and bringing ruin and distress on his neighbors. There was the paper Hanz had signed, setting forth that he possessed the secret of where Kidd's treasure was buried, and bearing the proof that he had sold it for a consideration. Chapman understood the value of this, and went about the village showing it as a proof that there was at least one man innocent, and that man was himself. There, too, was the old story that had clung to him through life—that he knew all about Kidd, his father having sailed with him on the Spanish Main. And there was the expedition up the river, in which he had played so prominent a part.
Chapman well understood the effect these things would have on the minds of the ignorant and superstitious, and he turned them against Hanz with such skill as to completely get the better of him. In short, he would assert his innocence with so much plausibility that the simple-minded settlers began to believe him the saint he set himself up for, and Hanz the sinner who had got all their money.
Mattie heard this strange declaration made by Hanz against her father with feelings of sorrow and surprise. She hung down her head and remained silent for some time, for her mind was bewildered with strange and exciting thoughts. Then, looking up, she said:
"Cheer up, don't be sad, Father Hanz. You will always find a friend in me. My father shall also be your friend. We are going to leave Nyack, but I will come and see you, and be your friend. Don't think bad of my father, and he shall yet be your friend." And she kissed Angeline and Hanz and bid them good bye.