The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1878-04-20

III. THE BUCKLE REVEALS ITSELF.
II. L. might be the initials of any foreigner,
English. French, or italian; yet when
mans whole life has been concentrated in
one absorbing interest, he catches at every
straw as belonging to his vortex, to be soon
bingham willed that the buckle should have
belonged to Hannah Long and have graced
her pretty foot in the colonies of America
some time in the eighteenth century, when
she was young and blooming,a belle toasted
by the gay officers of the British garrison. In
the silence of his chamber, having so willed
it, the conviction grew upon him tnat 1t
could not be otherwise. Forty francs! lie
would pay one hundred and forty rather
than to lose this clew. There it lay on the
table, now sparkling, now deadenlng as ne
moved, inviting further investigation.
Henry Toppingham was rising lawyer in
one of the Atlantic cities, with a slender in
come, which yet did not enable him to marry
the girl to whom he was engaged, no reputa-
ton and little practice. He needed to get on
in the world, even to obtain position at the
bar, and held himself surrounded by hosts of
newly fledged young lawyers in the same con-
dltion.
Mr.. Anthony Whitecap, the eminent prac-
titioner, smooth, rotund and prosperous, who
had rubbed his hands together and looked at
better take trip abroad, skim through the
leading capitals, and try to find him." he
said. "Buy Cooks ticket-say for three
months; I will advance you the money.
Mind you, I do not believe you can find this
needle in a hay-stack, however"
The needle in ahay-stack thus referred to
by Mr.. Whitecap was the heir to an unclaimed
property bequeathed by very peculiar will.
John Long possessor of several valuable coal
,r,ipoc ba6 in MI oil 70
his brother Albert, on condition of the lat
ter's claiming it within five years from the
date of his own decease. Failing this the
mines were to be sold, and the money to be
distributed among certain charities. This
heir, Albert Long had not been heard from
for ten years, when he was rumored to have
been seen in China and subsequentlGin Paris.
Albert Long, a sour and reticentI man
of eccentric habits, without wife or child,
confessed before death that family quarrel
had driven the younger brother abroad.
Albert Long was advertised In home and for
eign newspapers for one month; after that he
must take his own chances of restitution.
This was the puzzle presented by the great
lawyer, Mr.. Anthony Whitecap, out Of his
abundant harvest, to the needy and eager
young asplrant, Henry Toppingham, with
half amused doubt.
"Solve it if you can."
The young lawyer had entered upon the
scheme with ardor. 1t was his chance to
reap fame, golden opportunity for the exer-
else of talent. His first step had been
erations-a simple history enough; his
second. in avaling himself of foreign tour,
to search the records of bankers, hotels and
clubs for the name he desired to discover.
There was no reason to suppose Albert Long
was living under an assumed name, since he
had done nothing to disgrace his own. If he
was poor, his position in foreign land would
be obscure; if he had by any means acquired
wealth, there would be less difficulty in find
ing him. Henry Toppingham never allowed
himself to believe the missing man dead
bursh, London, Paris, the German cities,
and even Rome, without success. No per-
son knew Albert Long. The bankers had
not even heard of him; consuls were equal
ly at fault Only that very morning, in the
Church of Santa Croce, he had said, "Four
years and seven months have elapsed since
the death of John Long, and the charitable
institutions will get all his money. Pshaw {!
had there been any hope, Mr.. Whitecap
would have kept the case for himself.''
The same petulance again overcame him
now. The evening was dull, the hotel Sitting.
From his open window he gazed down on
deserted street. He took up the buckle list
lessly. What hopes had he not built upon it
merely because his researches into the history
of the Long family had led to the discovery
Of grandmother, whose name, Hannah
Long, had been indicated by the letters III.
L. embroidered on faded sampler and tap
estry screensp 1t was known that this man
Albert Long, whose existence had become to
the young lawyer mystery, fascinating and
tormenting, had been given small portion
belonging to his dead mother. What more
natural than that the grandmother's buckle
should have been preserved as relic? How
could it have found its way to shop with a
Green Door in the city of Florence? I'M
possible. The mere suppostion was impos-
sible. Stay. If Albert Long had died, his
the ornament, lost in meditation, far into the
night.
At 8 O'Clock the following morning, he
stood before the Green Door, flushed, ex-
cited and intensely expectant. The portal
maintained a sulen resistance to all rappings.
A neighbor opposite explained that the col
lector had not yet arrived at his place of bust
ness. The young man turned away disap-
pointed and chilled. At ten O'Clock he re-
turned. The Green Door was closed and
mute. His fancy enabled him to discern
something mocking about its faded exterior,
its heavy lock. Perhaps he was bewitched,
and the curiosity shop would prove drea m
altogether while the Green Door vanished
before his eyes. At eleven O'Clock he again
presented himself in the narrow street. The
lean and dry collector, with a cloth cap
drawn down to his very eyes, was in the act
OF taking ponderous key very deliberately
politely in French and entirely without sur
prise.
Once more within the shop, the young
mans heart began to beat nervously. The
place wore different aspect to his excited
Imagination. The mitred saint on the glass
panel see med to gaze at him, the pictures to
watch him, the broken statuetts to wait in
their shadowy corners for tn result. He
took the buckle from his pocket with az air
of assumed indifference, and asked:
''Where did you obtain it?'
The collector shrugged his shoulders sus-
picion lurked in his glance. "One gathers
many things" he answered guardedIy.
'Do.you know the person who sold it ?n
pursued Henry, feverishly.despite all efforts at
selfcontrol.
eyes"
HThis person is living?"
sPer B0cco! Yes"
The mitred saint on the glass, the faded
pictures, the dumb, cold statues, surely await.
ed the next question: Was the owner
stranger? and man? Perhaps. The collect
VA pSS"liS hAoAO No5oOB CFCA UnolCo umS6lI
sorting coins on metal dish. He did not
know.
Was this reticence sheer stupidity or sub.
tie caution? Henry severed the web of doubt
with one deceive stroke.
IF could learn the name of the person
who sold this buckleI would pay eighty
francs for it," he said firmly. 81 would even
gladly treble the first price, could see this
owner"
care you an enemy of the signore?'
s'No, friend"
How the young mans heart bounded The
owner was, then, man? Explanations were
facilitated by the production OF two-hun-
dred franc note. Yes, the good buckle had
been brought for sale only few days before
by the signore in the street. He had lived
there many years, and from time to time lit
tie articles had come to the shop. An old
old man and GEOGRAPHICALLY Inglese or
Tedesco, the dealer believed.
In silence he conducted Henry Topping
ham beneath an arch which formed a COW
cred bridge from one old palace to the next.
past a picturesque loggia, where a cobbler
worked at his task outside the door, and
along narrow winding street, fanked by
close church and convent now used az a har