# Left to Themselves/Chapter 6

Published by Hunt & Eaton, in New York.
CHAPTER VI.
A RIDDLE NOT EASILY ANSWERED—THE "OLD PROVINCE."
IT was nearly ten o'clock in the evening. Gerald was in bed and asleep. Mr. Hilliard was lying back in his leather armchair, his eyes resting thoughtfully on the ceiling.
Opposite him, looking into his face, sat Philip.
"Well," remarked his host, "here we have sat ever since dinner, going over the whole affair from beginning to end! We're not any closer to solving some knots in it than we were when we started. Still, I fancy we've guessed all that is necessary, my boy. You're tired out. So am I. What's left gets the best of me completely. We'd better go to bed."
"And what about your advertising, sir?"
"O, that must be attended to, of course; as soon as George comes, in fact. It will not likely trace the scamp or make any difference, so far as ​you and Gerald are concerned. It may protect me, though, if he continues to sail under my colors for any length of time."
"You still think, sir, that he has no special designs against you?"
"Against me? Certainly not! He used my name simply because he happens—I'd like to discover how!—to know enough about me to serve his turn, I don't know how long he has been acting me, I'm sure.
"He must have some way of keeping your affairs before him, sir. Surely, he knows the Ossokosee House and the people there very well indeed."
"No, that don't follow," returned Mr. Hilliard. "He must have been on the train longer than you think, and within ear-shot of you. Such characters are amazingly clever in making a little knowledge go a great way, and, besides, he drew more from you both with each sentence. Didn't he contrive, too, to get hold of my letter by that impudent dodge? Mark my words, those torn pieces of handwriting will bring me a fine forged check some day unless I take good care. My dear boy," Mr. Hilliard continued, less ruefully, "under the circumstances the ​rascal had ten chances to your one, and it's not strange you were bowled over."
"But what was it all for?" cried Philip once again. "What object was there for such a trick? But that brings us around just to where we started."
"My dear fellow," rejoined Mr. Hilliard, rising and leaning on the back of his great chair, "his object I don't think was any worse than the one we have decided upon. Surely, that is unfavorable enough to you, too. He is a common sharper. There are hundreds of them all about the country. He was coming on from B——, where, I dare say, he had been losing money. Sitting near you he heard you discuss this trip that you are making. Every thing you said implied that you were going alone; and that meant that one or the other of you carried a couple of hundred dollars, or perhaps more—"
"We didn't say a word about money."
"But your whole look and conversation told him of your having it! Very well, then; how to get it from you was the task before him. It was simple for such a scamp, if he was lucky enough to be a little familiar with my doings ​and gathered your references together. There are scores of scoundrels in this big city, Philip, who make a business of becoming versed in the looks, friends, history, every thing, of respectable men on purpose to make use of their information to swindle other persons."
"I've heard that," said Philip, ruefully; "but I never expected to find out how neatly it could be tried upon me."
Mr. Hilliard laughed. Nobody expected it. "Of course, the mainspring of his fraud was my failure to get aboard the train. After he was certain that I had not kept to my plan he marched up to you. 'Nothing venture, nothing have,' is the motto of a blackleg. The game was in his hands. He must have dreaded my possible turning-up all the time he devoted himself to you; but practice in such acting makes perfect. All his care after the first instance lay in seeming perfectly at ease with you. That most lucky falling into Mr. Fox's cellar separated you and cut the fraud short. He must have raged when he found that you failed to get aboard the train!"
"There were other fellows on it," said Philip. "In the crowd hurrying to it when the whistle ​blew he probably took another couple that we saw for Gerald and me. Otherwise, I believe, he would have jumped off."
"By the time he found out his carelessness he couldn't. However, if he had met you in New York, my lad, and prevented your coming here to me he could yet get hold of that money. Down at one or the other passenger-station I don't doubt that he hung about waiting for you. We'll find out if your telegrams were called for. George can go and ask about that for us."
"After we had met him in New York, sir, he would have robbed us?"
"Certainly, if he couldn't manage it before. He could have taken you to his quarters. (Likely they are handsome enough, as he said, and they may be not far from where we sit tonight.) There he would have given you, probably, a better supper than I have, added a dose to insure your sleeping, robbed you, and found means to get rid of you, very likely without injuring you, before morning." (Mr. Hilliard did not choose to suggest any other notion than that "very likely without injuring you;" but he had others.) "He would contrive it so that you could never have him traced out. It's not ​a rare scheme, remember, though its bad enough to think about."
"Then it was just a clever plan to rob two boys?" Philip asked, tapping his fingers on the table reflectively. Was he, or was he not, quite satisfied of it?
"Positively. Nothing more romantic, I am sure," responded Mr. Hilliard. "I must say I think that sufficiently exciting to satisfy most people. You will not be likely to hear of him again; I may."
Mr. Hilliard touched his bell. George came in. "I shall want you to mail these letters at once," said his master; "and these must go by hand to the newspaper-offices addressed."
Each envelope contained a notice cautioning all persons against putting any confidence in the pseudo Hilliard, whom the advertisement briefly described, denouncing him in the usual form.
"Now for bed!" ejaculated the boys' host as George vanished. "Excitement has kept you from realizing how your journey has tired you. I am glad that Gerald was so used up. There is no need to tell all our disagreeable theories to so young a boy as he. We must ​try to get the thing out of his head to-morrow."
Philip said good-night and closed his door. Gerald lay sound asleep. He stood beside the bed watching the younger boy's regular breathing. He did not know it, but such moments when he, as it were, struck a balance between Gerald and himself, and appreciated how Gerald depended upon him for society and care, were already moments that converted the manly metal in Philip into finest steel to cleave and endure.
Next morning found them all up early and in great spirits. Breakfast was eaten with lively chat on indifferent topics. Gerald was successfully diverted from dwelling on yesterday's mystery. George was dispatched early to the down-town waiting-rooms, and came back with the news that the messages Philip had telegraphed had been duly asked for by a gentleman who waited about for a long time after he received them. Philip and Mr. Hilliard exchanged glances. So the unknown sharper had indeed expected his victims, and finally retired to parts unknown! "Good-bye to him," laughed Mr. Hilliard.
​Ten o'clock came and the carriage. Philip had several errands to do around busy Union Square. The tickets were already attended to; but somehow time was lost. When they hurried down-town and swung around the corner of the Bowling Green they discovered that they were scarcely five minutes from the sailing of the Old Province.
As they rolled out upon the pier the black hull of the Halifax boat, built for worthy ocean service, rose before them.
"They've rung the 'all-ashore bell' long ago, gentlemen! Be lively!" called out one of the employees. They sprang out of the carriage and hurried forward. "Halloa, there, wait a minute!" was shouted to the deck-hands who were preparing to cast off the plank.
"Quick! That trunk there is for Halifax!" Mr. Hilliard called to the baggage-men. The trunk was caught up and hustled off. "A minute in time's as good as an hour—good-bye, good-bye!" he gasped, helping them up. "I wanted to give you some points about the custom-house fellows and speak a good word to the captain for you, but I can't. I'll telegraph Marcy that I saw you off nicely. I'm going ​West myself to-morrow, you know. Good-bye, and do take care of yourselves!" With which Mr. Hilliard was fairly dragged down the plank by the impatient ship's people, talking to the very bottom of it, and unconsciously quite a center of observation.
A moment later Philip and Gerald were waving their hands to him as the Old Province slipped along from the pier. Shall it be confessed that even Philip felt something like loneliness steal into his breast as he finally said, "Come, Gerald, let's go and take a look at our state-room."
They made themselves comfortable outside for the afternoon. There did not appear to be any considerable number of passengers. In fact, they heard one of the officers remarking that "it was the shortest list they had had during the season." A dozen not very interesting commercial travelers going back to the Provinces; as many New Yorkers bound north on special errands; some quiet Nova Scotia people—these, with four or five humble household groups that the boys soon classed as emigrants, were all the travelers on the Old Province for that trip. They soon ceased to pay ​any attention to them, and they passed the long hazy afternoon quite by themselves. The Old Province steamed onward well out at sea, with the coast a pale bluish line in the distance.
But as the afternoon closed they began to meet the tides that roll in brusquely upon the New England inlets. A gray fog swept about the Old Province, and what with a strong swell and a bluff wind that drove the mist thicker around them, the steamer took to rolling quite too much for comfort. Darkness came on. The saloon twinkled with its lights in pleasant contrast to the gloom outside. Gerald, before supper, found out that he was—for the first time in his life—a particularly bad sailor.
"I—I think I'd better go and lie down," he said, a good deal ashamed of his uneasiness. "I never was sick on our yacht, and I don't believe I shall be now; but my head feels pretty topsy-turvy."
So Philip got him into his berth. There was soon no occasion for Gerald to blush. Not a few of the other passengers promptly found out the rolling of the Old Province. They sought the seclusion which their cabins granted. The ​fog thickened. The steamer slackened up and plowed along at half-speed, blowing her hoarse fog-whistle. Philip went alone to supper.
He found only two thirds of those on board, besides some of the steamer's officers, scattered about the tables. As he sat down the captain, hurrying by, suddenly turned toward him.
"Is your little messmate under the weather?" he asked, abruptly, but not unkindly.
"Yes, sir."
"In his berth? Quite the best place for him! Your brother, I suppose? No? H'm! I'll try to have a little talk with you both later."
With which Captain Widgins walked away, leaving Touchtone decidedly surprised at this unexpected attentiveness, which he set down to the rather public style in which he and Gerald had come aboard.
He had to concentrate all his faculties on his unsteady plate. At last he pushed back his chair and wiped away the water dashed out of his glass into his face as he tried to secure a parting swallow. He looked across to a remote table. Two gentlemen sat there; a ​pillar partially hid them. But one of them was now in full sight and staring at him.
Philip nearly let fall his napkin. Those frank eyes of his met the now impudent dark ones of the "Mr. Hilliard" of Youngwood. As he looked at the man, asking himself if he were not deceived, "Mr. Hilliard" bowed politely to him, and then went on sipping his tea.
Philip told Gerald—a long time afterward—that once he had cut in two with his scythe a black snake coiled about a nest of unfledged cat-birds in a bush, evidently making up its mind which to devour first.
"I assure you the snake and that man looked exactly alike!" was Philip's comparison.