"The money that was John's ruin was the force that brought success to Philip. You see—he could not explain—at least he thought he could not, he was too cowardly—and the knowledge spurred him on. Wealth flowed in and in. He paid, and with interest, all that had been taken. How the world praised him—and how he suffered as they applauded him! He gave great sums to charity—mostly to those charities that mitigate the misery of—the outcasts. Men and women who come under the law. Can you understand?"
"Yes! yes!" Drew's head was buried in his thin hands. His voice was full of anguish.
"They used to come to him, those sad creatures,—and he never turned them away. I have seen and heard them bless him as they knelt beside him. He helped them so wisely because—oh! because he was—one of them, and they never knew! Then the disease came—the cancer. I think he welcomed it—it was so sure to open the door for him—and I think he even loved the suffering as a kind of expiation.
"Never once did a murmur escape him of impatience or regret. It was he who cheered us. It was he who stood by my father's death-bed and comforted him, and strengthened me. Always cheerful, always helpful until—just before he went. When he knew the days were few—when the coward in him—his last enemy—died, he told me everything.
"He said—" a sob choked the words—"that I must find—John. I must lay waste the beautiful memory of him. Show the coward who had not been able to stand before men! I must redeem the past as best I could. I must begin with you—the friend he most loved—for you must help me find—John."
Ralph Drew rose weakly to his feet. Something had gone out of him. Something that he groped after, but could not grasp. He felt as if he and the stricken woman before him were lost upon a black and dangerous road. Their only salvation was to cling together spiritually and bodily. He caught the back of her chair for support, and bent over her.
"Is there no one, who kept in touch with—the brother? Was he utterly forsaken? God help him!"
"They said it was his desire. But there was one—I never knew who it was; that was part of the mystery—but some one claimed and claimed money for him, for John. I knew sums of money were paid regularly, I used to think it was another of Philip's charities—but I know now that there was a constant lash laid upon him. Oh! if they had only known all.
"Ralph, Philip left nearly all his fortune to his brother. There is only my portion reserved for me. So you see I must find him. I was left sole executor."
"I will help you, Ruth."