Toney and his companions frequently halted to rest; and Dora's mule was far in advance of them on the road. When within a short distance of Cruces, they came to the spot where the anchor lay, near the side of the road. Here they beheld Dora and the Professor seated on the anchor and the mule quietly cropping the gra.s.s.

"Look yonder!" said Tom. And he started towards the pair seated on the anchor.

"Come on!" said Toney, with a peculiar look. Tom took the hint, and, with his companions, continued to walk on in the direction of Cruces.

"All's right!" said Toney, in a whisper, to Tom. "The anchor is the emblem of hope."

"Do you think he will now get out of Doubting Castle?" asked Tom.

"I know it," said Toney. "Let us move on. Yonder is Cruces."

They stopped at the public house, where Wiggins and his companions found the unfortunate M. T. Pate washing a bottle. In about an hour the Professor arrived, leading Dora's little mule by the bridle. The Professor's face was radiant with happiness; and Dora's cheeks were covered with a mult.i.tude of the most beautiful blushes. Toney and Tom exchanged looks of peculiar significance.

The young lady rested at the public house; while the Professor walked with Toney and his companions to the river, where they hired canoes to convey them to Chagres. While they were bargaining with the negroes who were to row them down the river, the Professor uttered a number of jokes, which satisfied Tom that he was going to be an agreeable fellow again. As they were returning to the public house, the Professor took Toney aside, and informed him that, while seated on the anchor in the wood, he had again earnestly entreated Dora to a.s.sist him in his search for domestic bliss and connubial felicity.

"Well," said Toney; "and what was the result?"

"The proposition was decided in the affirmative," said the Professor.

Toney grasped the Professor's hand, and shook it violently.

"Shall I tell Tom?" asked Toney.

"You may, but with the injunction of secrecy," said the Professor.

Tom was informed of the event which had occurred on Pizarro's anchor in the wood, and he laid hold on the Professor and hugged him.

"Confound it, Tom!" said the Professor. "You hug like a cinnamon bear."

"I can't help it!" said Tom. "I am so glad! And Toney has a hundred thousand dollars. Hurrah! hurrah!"

"When we get home, let no one know that I have a hundred thousand dollars," said Toney.

"Why not?" asked Tom.

"I wish the Widow Wild to suppose that I have come home as poor as I was when I left," said Toney. "I will explain my reasons hereafter, and may need your a.s.sistance."

"Can't I tell Ida?" asked Tom.

"Rosabel and Ida must be informed; but with the injunction of secrecy.

Do you promise to conceal my good fortune?"

"I do; I will say nothing, except by your permission."

On the following day they arrived at Chagres, and took pa.s.sage for New York, which city they reached after a pleasant voyage, and on the next day were in Baltimore. Here the Professor left them, and accompanied Dora to her home in Virginia. Toney and his friends arrived in Mapleton at night. They urged Clarence and Harry to remain here until morning; but the two young men were impatient to reach Bella Vista, and, taking leave of Toney and Tom, were wafted away in the direction of the homes from which they had been absent during five long years.

When Clarence Hastings and Harry Vincent approached Bella Vista it was midnight. In their impatience, each young man had put his head out the window of a car.

"Good heavens! what means that light?" cried Clarence.

"The town's on fire!" exclaimed Harry.

On rushed the iron horse, and as they entered the town the street was illuminated by a conflagration.

Around the mansion of Colonel Hazlewood are collected excited crowds of people. Flames are bursting from the roof, and nearly the whole interior is in a blaze. The inmates had been aroused by the cry of fire, in the middle of the night, and all have escaped. No; not all! Where are Imogen and Claribel? Their shrieks are heard; they are in the burning house, and surrounded by the crackling flames.

"My child! my child!" cries the gray-haired Colonel Hazlewood in an agony. He rushes into the building, and attempts to ascend the stairway, which is on fire. Suffocated by the dense smoke, he falls back insensible, and is dragged from the door.

"Bring ladders! bring ladders!" is shouted by a number of voices; but no ladders are at hand.

"Oh, G.o.d! oh, G.o.d! must they perish? Can n.o.body save them?" are the exclamations heard on every side. Several men rush into the house and are driven back by the smoke and the intense heat. While all stand still, with horror depicted in their countenances, two men come running with frantic speed to the spot. In an instant they seem to comprehend the danger of the young females, whose shrieks are heard from an upper chamber. Into the midst of the smoke and flames they rush, ascend the stairway, regardless of the scorching heat, and in a moment are seen leaping through a window upon the roof of a portico, each holding in his arms the form of a woman who has fainted. A loud shout goes up from the crowd. A ladder has been brought, and the two men descend, and rush to the opposite side of the street with their lovely burdens in their arms, as, with a terrific crash, the burning roof falls in. Colonel Hazlewood, recovering from his swoon, staggers across the street to utter his thanks.

"Harry Vincent!" he exclaimed. And Imogen opens her eyes and beholds her long-lost lover, while Claribel is still unconscious in the arms of Clarence Hastings.

CHAPTER LIII.

The happiest month of Tom Seddon's life had rolled round,--the month preceding his marriage with the beautiful Ida. Toney Belton also seemed happy, and so did Rosabel, and the only discontented person in the Widow Wild's mansion was the widow herself. Nothing had been told her about the sale of the sand-hill; and the eight thousand dollars, the amount of gold which Toney acknowledged he had gathered by hard labor in the mines, made but a small portion of the sum necessary to const.i.tute a fortune for a gentleman. The widow was dissatisfied with Fate on account of her hard dealings with Toney Belton.

Rosabel knew better. Under the injunction of secrecy, she and Ida had been made acquainted with the good fortune of their lovers, and knew that they were in the possession of wealth. Toney had considerable difficulty, however, to induce Rosabel to co-operate with him in his plans for giving the widow an agreeable surprise.

"Why not go to my mother and ask her to consent to our marriage?" said Rosabel. "She would interpose no objection, and you could inform her of your good fortune afterwards."

"Rosabel," said Toney, "when your mother, years ago, said, in my presence, with peculiar emphasis, that no man should marry her daughter who was not worth a hundred thousand dollars, I made a solemn vow never to ask her consent."

"You did?" exclaimed Rosabel.

"Yes; not even if I should some day be worth a million. I cannot break my vow."

"I must consult with Ida," said Rosabel.

"Do so," said Toney.

On the following day Tom and Ida were to be married. Toney and Rosabel were to accompany them to the church; and the widow would receive them at her house after the marriage ceremony was performed. Tom and the widow were alone in earnest conversation.

"I would not swop with Adam if he were here with his Eden," said Tom.

"There could be but one addition to my happiness."

"What is that?" asked the widow.

"I have a friend who dearly loves a young lady, and has loved her all his life; but he is supposed to be poor."

"Well, what of that?" said the widow.

"He has not obtained her parent's consent to their marriage," said Tom.