Ah! Here was money––the package had seemed heavy––nearly fifty pounds in all; and here was his 272 gold watch and seal ring and a letter. He quickly opened the letter and read with wonderment in his eyes, and then tears.

“My Dear Rodney:––The man, whose life your father once saved at risk of his own, and whom you again saved from the bullet of a savage, wishes to express his sense of obligations. Please accept the contents of this packet as such an expression, for the obligations themselves cannot be repaid; also what I have tried to provide in the will which you will find enclosed. I would suggest that you consult the lawyer whom you brought to me at my request. Rightly cared for, the inheritance will ensure your mother and sister against want and afford you the chance of which you have been deprived on account of lack of funds. I’m sure you will understand that I do not allude to ‘Chance,’ the fickle goddess of the gaming table, and I have been happy to learn you profited by the lesson I taught you. Had I learned a similar one at your age, that one may not obtain something for nothing and be happy in the possession, I might have been of some service in the world. Instead, my life has been a failure, and that which I am leaving to you was the fruit of the service of my forebears. May you never feel the humiliation of uselessness, of having contributed nothing to the world that was of value!

“The property is in England, and not until the war shall be ended, I presume, will it be possible for you to come into the inheritance. I am leaving no near 273 kindred. My little son died in Canada during my absence; his name was Louis. Elizabeth Danesford’s mother I knew when she was a girl and lived in London, and, for her sake, her daughter, had she lived, was to have had the half of what I’m leaving to you. The estate in England, which Louis would have inherited, reverts to a distant cousin.

“I do not know whether your father ever told of his acquaintance with me, nor what his feelings toward me may have been. Surely, there was ample cause why they should have been unpleasant, but I like to think they were kindly. He loved me despite the sore distress I so often caused him, but when I struck him down, thinking him an enemy, and fled, believing myself a murderer, he must ever after have thought I deserted him. I hope he knows better now.

“After that horrible experience I joined the army in Canada and a year later was married. Louis was born and, after six years of such happiness as one who believes himself a criminal may enjoy, my wife died and Louis went to live with her parents near Lachine. One day I met a man who recognized me and, fearing exposure, I fled to New York, later to Philadelphia and then to Virginia at the outbreak of Dunmore’s war. After that I returned to Canada only to learn that Louis had died. It seemed as if a fatality pursued all I loved. I went to England, determined to give myself up to justice, but was astounded to learn that there was no evidence that a crime had been committed. I was told your father did not die but was put aboard 274 ship for the Colonies. Believing that England, however much in fault as to administration, was right in fighting to retain her government over this country, I again entered the army. The day on which I had the serious attack of heart trouble, and called for assistance and you came, I saw that in your face which told me you must be near of kin to David Cameron. I wonder that I never had noted the resemblance. If you are like him, as I believe, you will not leave the world the poorer for having lived in it, and at the end will not, as I, feel impelled to recall these lines which that wretch Wharton wrote:

“‘Be kind to my remains, and oh! defend,
Against your judgment, your departed friend.’
“Richard W. Ralston.”

“Dick Ralston! And but for him I would not have had David. The ways of Providence are past finding out, Rodney.”

“Nor would we have had a home but for him, mother.”

“True, I forgot that. He had a kind heart and I remember what an attractive gentleman I thought him, the day he came here. Think what he might have been!”

The day on which the remains of Ralston were laid at rest, Rodney, on returning home, found Mam in a state of agitation. She beckoned him into the house and hoarsely whispered: “Dar’s a dirty Injun in de shed. I wouldn’ ’low him ter set foot in dis yar 275 house, I wouldn’, not ef he’d scalped me on de spot. He grunt, an’ squat, an’ ’lowed he done wouldn’ stir less he seed you.”