Chapter 10 of 10 · 1638 words · ~8 min read

CHAPTER X

A FRIEND AT COURT

THINGS went on very quietly for some weeks at Carfoos and in its neighbourhood after the events we have just recorded.

Blonda was too glad to get her roll of linen back to trouble herself as to how it had disappeared or how been returned to her. She washed, and ironed, and put it away, quite content that her work had not been wasted, but that she should still get something by the sale of it in the Klingengolf market when her father next paid the town a visit.

Blonda often thought of the young general, and of his goodness to them all, and wondered if the time would ever come when she should need to make use of his sealed paper, and claim his promise of help. Tonie and she had many earnest conversations upon this subject, and he especially was always building upon the small foundation of the general's promise all sorts Of castles in the air.

As for Freskel, Pastor Oshart had so far kept entirely to himself the lad's confidences, seeing no use in telling others, and perhaps setting the whole neighbourhood talking, and exciting the lad afresh just as he was beginning to be reconciled to his loss, and was growing more like the innocent-hearted, boyish Freskel of old. But the pastor had seen but little of him lately, as for some reason the lad had been kept more at home.

Of the Valdens as a family not much was heard now-a-days. Except on that night when Tonie and Blonda had met Dorlat and Hervitz on the ice, no one in the neighbourhood had seen the brothers for some time.

"The Valdens are flying at higher game, I fancy, just now," said Philip Bexal to Grubert one day. "They have been seen with some strangers at a town twenty miles beyond Klingengolf, and I am told they seemed to have plenty of money, and were swaggering about with the bravest. But so long as they come not hither, I care not what they do. One is only thankful to be well quit of them."

But one day, not more than a week later, most astonishing news reached Carfoos. The police at Klingengolf, acting upon special information received, had made a raid upon the Valdens' home, and had arrested, all at once, the old man Jaspar, and his three sons, Dorlat, Hervitz, and Freskel. Rolf Bresser was the bearer of the tidings, for he was on his way from Klingengolf to St. Petersburg on business, and coming to spend a few days at Pastor Oshart's house, he gave him a full account of the capture.

"But for what crime are they arrested?" asked the old pastor.

"For fraudulent dealing and the circulation of base money," replied Rolf. "It seems that some two years ago, the brother Dorlat and Hervitz were thought to be mixed up in some way with a gang of coiners, but before any proof could be got against them, the gang took fright, and made off, bag and baggage, one night, and no one knew whither they went. But it appears that they left behind them, stored in some corner of the Isle of Ghosts, a quantity of their false money, and lately they must have communicated this fact, and the whereabouts of the coin, to the brothers Valden, who lost no time in securing it.

"They then proceeded to various towns, buying all sorts of cheap wares with the counterfeit money, receiving in change for false gold as much real silver as possible, and for their spurious silver money good copper. For a time their evil trade prospered, but at last the trick was found out, and traced home to the Valdens. Whereupon, not content with securing the prime movers in the matter—Dorlat and Hervitz—the police have also got hold of old Jaspar and poor, foolish Freskel."

"Jaspar is without doubt in the secret," said Pastor Oshart; "but as for Freskel, how should he know false money from true? Indeed, I am certain he does not," added the old man, remembering Freskel's story, which he now thoroughly understood for the first time. "If the base coin has passed through his hands at all, he has handled it in all good faith, and has only been a tool in the grasp of his brothers."

"Yes, Oshart," said Rolf Bresser, "something must assuredly be done for the poor boy. They say he is broken-hearted, and does nothing but sob and cry for his pastor father."

"My poor, foolish boy!" said the old man, wiping his eyes. "I will go down to Klingengolf this very day, and represent his case to the head of police there, and see what can be done for him. Meanwhile, thou wilt remain here, Rolf, and take care of my house for me?"

"Yes, my friend; I have a day or two to spare, and will here await thy return."

"Another matter, Rolf! If I start, as I should, at once, I shall not have time to let Grubert Reuss and his family know about Freskel. Wilt thou go and carry the news to them? It will comfort little Blonda (who loves the poor lad) to know that I have gone to do what I could for him."

"I will be sure to visit them this very afternoon," replied Rolf Bresser.

It was three days before the pastor returned from Klingengolf, and when he did, he brought only bad news. After half an hour spent at his own house, the old man walked over to Grubert's cottage.

And in answer to Blonda's, and Tonie's anxious enquiries, he replied, "My children, everything I could say for the lad went for nothing. He is one of a family long suspected of all sorts of misdemeanours. The base money—or some of it—had passed through his hands, as well as through those of his brothers, and he has been associated with them. I saw the head inspector at the police-station, and he was most courteous and even friendly, and heard me with patience.

"'But,' said he, 'nothing but a special order signed by the Tzar could effect Freskel Valden's release. In default of such an order, he must go for trial with the rest, and I should think you have but little chance of obtaining it.'"

Blonda was very grave and thoughtful for a minute or two after Pastor Oshart had ceased speaking, but all at once her face lighted up.

"Pastor, dear pastor!" she cried. "We will save poor Freskel yet and set him free!"

And before the old man had time to reply, she rushed up to her room, and presently returned holding in her hand the sealed paper General Nicolai had given her.

"See, dear pastor," she said, "the good general told me that if ever I was in trouble or needed anything I was to send or take him this. He is at Court and has influence there, and he promised to give me anything I asked, if it were in his power. Oh, if I could but go to St. Petersburg!"

"My child," said Grubert, "that is not to be thought of."

"But my friend, Rolf Bresser, is going," said Pastor Oshart; "confide thy paper to him, and I will add a full account of the circumstances, telling the general all about poor Freskel. And thou too, Blonda, shalt send a few lines (thou canst muster Russian enough for that), reminding General Nicolai of his promise to thee."

It took Rolf Bresser a long while to get to the great city, and the patience of Freskel's friends was sorely tried before the news came for which they were longing and waiting. But it was Rolf himself who, on his return journey, was the bearer of a full and free pardon for Freskel Valden, and also of a special sealed packet for Blonda from her friend General Nicolai.

On opening this packet, it was found to contain the title deeds of a property consisting of a fine piece of land, and a farm with house and out-buildings, furniture, and live stock, all complete. And this was to be Blonda's own; a wonderful gift indeed! But yet more wonderful were the few lines that accompanied these papers, and which ran thus:—

"To Blondinka, my little heroine of the scarlet shawl! May God have thee in His holy keeping, child with the forget-me-not eyes. May He give thee a long, happy and useful life, with thy good father and brother, in the new home whither it is my pleasure that you move in the spring. And since, my little maid, thy faith in One above is so strong, and thy vision of the right is so clear, pray sometimes for him who to thee is known only as General Nicolai, but who here, in his own city, is thy friend at Court,—

"NICOLAI 1st, Emperor of all the Russias."

The rest of our story may be told in a few words. Grubert and his family went to live on Blonda's farm, and prospered exceedingly. Freskel Valden came to reside with Pastor Oshart, and growing in all things good, was called the pastor's son. As for Jasper, Dorlat, and Hervitz, they were sent off with a convict band to work in the Siberian mines.

With regard to the legend of the Isle of Ghosts, we believe that the idea of its being a sort of Treasure Island has just about died out. And probably, were we now to visit the neighbourhood, we should hardly find any one who could point out that particular island, or tell the story that Philip Bexal told by the lake side on that memorable day that first introduced General Nicolai to the simple-hearted, old-fashioned Blonda Reuss, one of our—

TWO LITTLE FINNS.