"My boy, it is a sad day for us all when you leave the home nest. We shall miss you more than I can express," said the colonel at length. "Ah! I had hoped to see you settled near us in our old age in this grand country. Clifford, I have seen a great many regions on this continent famous for their beauty and fertility, but this is the only place that I have ever seen where I would be perfectly content to live and die. You have yet to learn that 'distant hills' are no greener than those of home, and you will travel the wide world over and find no other place to compare with this, my son. I have been thinking to-day, Clifford," continued his father, as he pushed his plate of untasted food back on the table and folded his napkin—"that if I had only a tithe of the fortune that I once lost on this spot, it might be enhanced an hundred-fold at the great land-sale Monday; for I learn by to-day's Times that the Mastodon Bank has failed, carrying down in its collapse all the parties who had the lands condemned for sale, so now they are unable to bid at the auction, and hundreds of thousands of acres will be sold at a few cents an acre without competition. Oh, I realize that it is bitter, indeed, to be poor, my boy, for it is only your ambition that drives you from us," and, rising, he paced back and forth with bowed head, while Mrs. Warlow's tears flowed unchecked as she thought of the long, dreary years that might drag on before her beloved boy returned.
The Warlow family were never demonstrative. There was always a matter-of-fact regard for each other; but this moment of sorrow brought to the surface a depth of family affection of which Clifford had never dreamed, and, as his father proceeded, he became more deeply affected than he ever had been before.
He thought, "The old days of trial and poverty are over forever," and as the realization of the great change, and his narrow escape from the misery, of self-exile flashed upon him, he leaned his head upon his hands, and a great sob shook his frame, while hot tears—yes, tears, which danger and the despair of a hopeless love had failed to wring—now fell in a torrent, as the storm of emotion, new and strange, surged in his breast.
"Oh, Clifford—Clifford! I thought you were not going," cried Maud, white with anguish.
"Cliff, I can't bear to see you leave," sobbed Robbie, while he clung to Clifford with the desperation born of his grief at the very thought of parting with his only brother.
"Clifford, what does this mean?" said Maud, seized by a nameless dread; but Clifford only answered by pushing back the table, the cover of which swept the floor and had concealed the object that was now revealed in the lamp-light.
"Gold! gold!" cried Maud in amazement, as her eyes caught the glitter of doubloons heaped upon the floor.
"Oh God!—my lost fortune!" said the colonel in a hoarse whisper, as he knelt beside the half-emptied sacks, which he remembered at a glance.
"My brother—Clifford—you are a grand hero," shrieked Maud, wild with excitement and relief, and then ensued a contest between herself and mother who should first strangle our young friend in their embraces.
"Hero, nothing!" said Rob, who had just blown his nose upon the table-cloth with a snort like a porpoise, and who was still blubbering in a suspicious manner; "heroes don't drip at the nose like a hydrant; but all the same he is a damn good fellow," he added, with a vigorous slap on his brother's back.