“Indeed, yes. They lived in terror of the prince who hounded him over the world. The mother trusted no one, but Amalia told me––enough––all she knows herself. I don’t know if the mother has the secret or not, but at least she guesses it. The poor man was trying to live until he could impart his knowledge to the right ones to bring about an upheaval that would astonish the world. It meant revolution, whatever it was. Amalia imagines it was to place a Polish king on the throne of Russia, but she does not know. She told me of stolen records of a Polish descendant of Catherine II of Russia. She thinks they were brought to her father after he came to this country.”
“If he had such knowledge or even thought he had, it was enough to set them on his track all his life; the wonder is that he was let to live at all.”
“The mother never mentioned it, but Amalia told me. We talked more freely out in the desert. That remarkable woman walked at her husband’s side over all the terrible miles to Siberia, and through her he escaped,––and of the horrors of those years she never would speak, even to her daughter. It’s not to be wondered at that her mind is astray. It’s only a wonder that she is for the most part so calm.”
“Well, the grave holds many a mystery, and what a fascination a mystery has for humanity, savage or civilized! I’ve kept the Indians at bay all this time by that means. They fear––they know not what, and the mystery holds them. Now, for ourselves, I leave you for a little while in charge of––the women––and of all my possessions.” Larry, gazing into the blazing logs, smiled. “You may not think so much of them, but it’s not so little now. 225 Talk about lunacy––man, I understand it. I’ve been a lunatic––for––ever since I made a find here in this mountain.”
He paused and mused a while, and Harry’s thoughts dwelt for the time on his own find in the wing of the cabin, where the firewood was stored. The ring and the chest––he had not forgotten them, but by no means would he mention them.
“You may wonder why I should tell you this, but when I’m through, you’ll know. It all came about because of a woman.” Larry Kildene cast a sidelong glance at Harry, and the glance was keen and saw more than the younger man dreamed. “It’s more often so than any other way––almost always because of a woman. Her name may be anything––Mary––Elizabeth,––but, a woman. This one’s name was Katherine. Not like the Katherine of Shakespeare, but the sweetest––the tenderest mother-woman the Lord ever gave to man. I see her there in the fire. I’ve seen her there these many years. Well, she was twin sister to the man who hated me. He hated me––for why, I don’t know––perhaps because he never could influence me. He would make all who cared for him bow before his will.
“When I first saw her, she lived in his home. He was a banker of means,––not wholly of his own getting, but partly so. His father was a man of thrift and saving––anyway, he came to set too much store by money. Sometimes I think he might have been jealous of me because I had the Oxford training, and wished me to feel that wealth was a greater thing to have. Scotchmen think more of education than we of Ireland. It’s a good thing, of course, 226 but I’d never have looked down on him because he went lacking it. But for some indiscretion maybe I would have had money, too. It was spent too lavishly on me in my youth. But no. I had none––only the experience and the knowledge of what it might bring.
“Well, it came about that I came to America to gain the money I lacked, and having learned a bit, in spite of Oxford and the schools, of a practical nature, I took a position in his bank. All was very well until I met her. Now there were the rosy cheeks and the dark hair for you! She looked more like an Irish lass than a Scotch one. But they’re not so different, only that the Irish are for the most part comelier.
“Now this banker had a very sweet wife, and she was kind to the Irish lad and welcomed him to her house. I’m thinking she liked me a bit––I liked her at all events. She welcomed me to her house until she was forbid. It was after they forbid me the house that I took to walking with Katherine, when all thought she was at Sunday School or visiting a neighbor, or even––at the last––when no other time could be stolen––when they thought her in bed. We walked there by the river that flows by the town of Leauvite.”
Again Larry Kildene paused and shot a swift glance at the young man at his side, and noted the drawn lids and blanched face, but he kept on. “In the moonlight we walked––lad––the ground there is holy now, because she walked upon it. We used to go to a high bluff that made a sheer fall to the river below––and there we used to stand and tell each other––things we dreamed––of the life we should live together––Ah, that life! She has spent it in 227 heaven. I––I––have spent the most of it here.” He did not look at Harry King again. His voice shook, but he continued. “After a time her brother got to know about it, and he turned me from the bank, and sent her to live with his father’s sisters in Scotland.