“No; he was insensible when found; but they succeeded in restoring him to consciousness, so that he was able to tell that his robber and intended murderer was that Phelim O’Rourke who was suspected of committing the Lakeside burglary, but cleared by Bangs swearing to an alibi. I don’t believe a word of that alibi, and never did; and now hope that they will get the rascal into custody and find some of your marked notes on him or in his possession somewhere.”
Miriam drew a long breath. “Oh, if that should happen!” she cried, “I—I think it would help me to get out of Bangs’s power.”
“I do believe it would!” exclaimed Serena, her eyes sparkling at the thought. “But whether that happens or not, Alonzo is sure to find a way of escape for you. Miriam, he’s the best and kindest-hearted man that ever was made. I used to think I was fond of Perry’s father—Perry Golding, Sr.—but it was nothing to compare to my love for his successor.”
“I am so glad,” Miriam said, smiling sympathetically into the speaker’s eyes, “for the doctor is worthy of all the love you can give him, and it makes you both so happy. You have never told me anything about Mr. Golding. He was killed in the war—in battle—was he not?”
“No; he joined the Confederate army in spite of the strongest opposition on my part, and after a while I had word that he was sick in a hospital down in Alabama, and though I hurried there as fast as possible, he was dead before my arrival—dead and buried; they showed me his grave, and gave me his clothes, but wouldn’t let me remove the body.
“I went home in deep grief, for I had been quite attached to poor Perry. But he wasn’t the man Dr. Jasper is; he would get drunk occasionally, and then be cross and unreasonable; sometimes actually abusive.”
She broke off with a sudden exclamation, “Oh, see what a crowd is coming down the street! I wonder what it means?”
They sprang to their feet and stood gazing intently at an approaching party of horsemen, followed by a motley crowd of men and boys on foot.
As they drew near enough for the recognition of faces, Miriam remarked, in a low tone, to her companion, “That is Mr. Duncan, the county sheriff, riding at the head; and he has a prisoner in charge. Can it be?—yes, yes, it is Phelim O’Rourke! Oh, how thankful I am that they have caught him—the would-be murderer of that poor old man!”
“So am I; but why do they bring him here? Why not take him to Fairfield? so much nearer as it is to the place where he did the dreadful deed.”