Not only the score or more of men who had taken part in the counsels of the Vigilantes, but perhaps a hundred others were craning their necks from places of concealment, eagerly watching the figures on the crest of the hill. They saw the old major throw back his head in his own princely manner. Notwithstanding the distance, his words were borne distinctly to them on the night winds.
“My life,” said he, “is a charmed one. I am a member of the Mystic Brotherhood, and it is not for you to teach me the sting of death.” They disappeared from view, and a little later three gun-shots rang out on the night air, startling the whippoorwills and thrushes. A neighs boring rooster crowed hoarsely the hour. The watchers knew that the death penalty had been paid.
Captain Osborn and his three friends returned to the bank, but they were silent in their sorrow. In the first place, the major’s friends had not expected the treachery of the sheriff, and they felt sure, because of that official’s promise to Captain Osborn, that it would be impossible for the Vigilantes to secure the prisoner. From the standpoint of the cattlemen Major Hampton had certainly merited death, but it seemed so terrible, so unexpected, so shocking, that no one of the four could reconcile himself to the belief that so monstrous a tragedy had really been enacted.
“Have you opened the letter yet?” inquired the captain.
“No,” replied Hugh, “perhaps we might as well do it now as later.”
The four men gathered around the table, and Hugh broke the seal. The letter read as follows:
“My dear Stanton:—Enclosed herewith I hand you my last will and testament, bequeathing all my possessions to my beloved daughter, Marie Redfield Hampton. I also enclose the combination of my safe.
“You will find, in looking over my private books, an accurate statement of all moneys received from the sale of stolen cattle. You will also find a report of distributions which I have made of the money. The credit balance is less than one thousand dollars; all but this has been given to the poor and needy.
“Instead of experiencing any sentiment of regret, I find deep consolation in thinking of the misery that I have lessened and the hearts that I have gladdened. My remembrance of the great Southwest will ever be a pleasant one. The friendship of yourself, your father, and Captain Osborn, and your many kindnesses, are things engraven on my memory that will bear a golden harvest of responding love for mankind, and greater deeds of charity from my hands, in the years that are to come. The unwritten law of humanity contains stronger covenants than may be found on the statute books of all the nations of the earth.
“It takes a high-souled man to be as ‘brave as a Caesar and wise as a Plato’ when confronted with the trying ordeal of friendship on the one hand and humanity on the other.
“As one of the Rosicrucians—a member of the Brotherhood of the Highest Himalayas—whose only mission on earth is to reform and equalize, to lift up the lowly, to change tears of adversity into smiles of gladness, to oppose plutocracy and greed, to abolish bigotry and selfishness, and to sow seeds of altruistic virtue, I cannot, in taking a farewell retrospective view, discover a single opportunity that I have not endeavored to improve.
“Tell your father that Kinneman and Spencer were but helpers—paid servants to do my bidding—and therefore they should not merit his anger.
“My pen drags a little as I write, for I am thinking of my daughter. I call her mine, although no common blood flows in our veins, for my love of her is very great. Indeed, it is the one tie that is hardest for me to sever. I am sure at your request that both Mrs. Horton and Ethel will comfort her and give her a home. Tell her that it will not be long until we are reunited. The end of our sojourn in the Southwest will be but the beginning of other happy days in a new country where I shall take up my abode.
“Tell her for me, as Charles the Ninth said to the queen mother,—’Wait. All human wisdom is in this single word,—wait. The greatest, strongest, most skilled is he who knows how to wait, and wait patiently.’ So say I to her,—wait.
“Tell her also that, notwithstanding I am rich with the accumulated wisdom of the centuries, yet, nevertheless, I am subject to the laws of the country in which I may be living, and I can but bow to the frenzy of the mob, and ask that they may be forgiven for they know not what they do. I came to emancipate, and now they seek my life. I came to alleviate their sufferings, and now they would bite the hand that has fed them.
“Impress upon her that no condition can arise in this crisis that is not fully provided for, and, instead of being the ‘plaything of chance,’ I am a Rosicrucian, and am not subject to that mysterious force which compels the children of men to obey its mandates.
“The hope of the age is progress, and ‘the noble few will lose nothing when it overtakes them.’
“You must not suppose, because I enclose my will herewith, that my mission on earth is finished; but in the Great Southwest I shall from this night on be regarded as legally dead. My protection is nothing less than the invincible philosopher’s stone, a talisman which will protect me far more securely than a coat of mail.
“Let me, in conclusion, admonish you to devote at least a part of the millions you will inherit to the sacred cause of humanity.
“Until we meet again, adieu!
“Buell Hampton.”
When Hugh had finished reading the letter, Captain Osborn arose from his chair and walked impatiently up and down the room, with his hands clasped behind him.
“Dastardly,” he finally ejaculated, “yes, a most dastardly and outrageous murder has been committed. A maniac has been slaughtered in cold blood. It is a calamity to this part of the Sunflower State, not even exceeded by the hot winds of Hades.”
Soon after, they started for their homes. Hugh excused himself, promising to come on a little later. The sun was just showing its golden dawn in the east. The town of Meade was wrapped in sleep.