The Lightning Conductor Discovers America

"I'm doing well here," wrote Marcel Junior. "You won't have to worry about me in future. I know I've been a fool; but for once and for all I've had my lesson." And he went on to tell what the lesson was. "I was half crazy when you and old Stanislaws refused to let me have five thousand dollars," he said. "The scrape I'd got into was worse than I'd told you. I was at my wits' ends for money, and I dreamed about the safe in Stanislaws' wall. I knew what he kept there. He often showed Pietro and me the jewels. I dreamed that I went into his room, took the keys from under the pillow, and opened the safe. Then a noise woke me up. The dream was true. I waked standing at the open safe with the steel box in my hand. The noise that brought me to myself was Stanislaws falling on the marble floor. You know I've been a sleep walker all my life. But I realized in a second how hard it would be to prove myself innocent, whether Stanislaws lived or died. I thought my one chance was to be off before morning. I swear I didn't mean to steal the jewels. But the first thing I knew, I was out in the hall with the box in my hand, and I dared not go back!"

Marcel Junior went on to say that to his surprise the jewel-case wasn't locked. Because he had no money to get away with, he took out a diamond ring. The box, with the rest of its contents intact, he buried in the garden. In the hiding-place described it was found by Marcel Senior who carried it, with the letter, to Pietro.

It was soon after this that Peter finished settling up his father's affairs with the help of James Strickland, and sailed for England in the Lusitania, meaning to take a long holiday after his strenuous years as a budding millionaire. The recovered jewels he left in Strickland's care. And now you will have guessed, Mercédes, whence came those pearls, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds requisitioned for Miss Robinson's box with its convenient date of 1669! All that had to be done was to unstring the pearls and unset the stones, and they might be supposed to date from one century as well as another.

Now have I made everything clear, I wonder, up to the time when the Lusitania went down and Pietro Stanislaws was reborn as Peter Storm? Oh, but one thing I forgot! You remember I wrote about the Russian Military Attaché from Washington, who recognized Peter and was mesmerically suppressed by him at New London? There was no great mystery after all. They'd known each other in Russia, so you may imagine it was a shock to the Prince, seeing his dead friend suddenly walk into the hotel. That was a bad moment for Peter! He wanted to declare his identity when the time came, not to have it given away; so he pounced on the man and whispered, "Girl in the case. I'll explain." Which he did later and in private.

Now we come back at last to Pat: "the girl in the case!" But you haven't let yourself worry about her, have you, Mercédes?

Even I didn't worry much. From the moment she and Peter retired into my boudoir to "talk things over," and Jack and I sat supplying details out of our imagination, I knew that whatever happened all would be well. For that I trusted Peter.

If Ed Caspian had fallen from his high estate through no fault of his own, and could have posed as a martyr, Pat might have thought it her duty to be loyal. Even so she could never have said, "I will," when invited to take him for better or worse. As it was, Caspian could pose as nothing but a pig! He had given himself away, all along the line. And he was not to go pathetically out into the world alone as a pauper. He would have more money than he'd ever dreamed of until after the Lusitania tragedy. He would at worst be able to fight with Senator Collinge over the hand (and purse) of his dear old friend Mrs. Shuster, if Larry escaped her! The only difficulties I foresaw concerned the pawned engagement ring and Larry's debts to Lily. As to these I boldly decided that if worst came to worst I would betray my trust and tell Peter everything.

You will see, however, that my conscience was saved, and by Caspian.

Pat, of course, was petrified at seeing Peter Storm turn into Pietro Stanislaws. She listened dumbly to Peter's indictment of Caspian; and then, before she found time or words to speak, the little wretch turned to snap at her like a trapped jackal.

"You'll throw me over now!" he sneered. "That goes without telling. Rats desert a sinking ship. But —what do you mean to do about my ring? Maybe you thought I didn't know. Ask Mrs. Shuster! Angéle told her. I guess Mrs. Shuster's money and my ring have gone the same way!"

That was too much for Larry. "You'd better go after your d – d ring, then!" said he, looking like a handsome, angry schoolboy. "I can give you the pawn-ticket; and I bet Peter Storm – or Stanislaws – will lend the money to redeem the beastly thing. As for Mrs. Shuster, we won't bring her name into this. She and I will settle our affairs, official and unofficial, although you seem to be so deep in her confidence. I say, Captain Winston, do you mind my telling Caspian that the nearest way to the pawnbroker's is through your front door, and the quicker he finds it the better?"

"I don't mind in the least your telling him that," Jack replied pleasantly.

"And I should love you to!" I added breathlessly.

This brought Pat to me. "Oh, Molly!" she said.

"Oh, Patsey!" said I.

Then Peter came to us. "Oh, Peter!" said we both.

Somehow, I found that in his right hand was a hand of mine, and in his left (nearest the heart) was one of Patty's. "It's all right," he said. "It ends by my getting the treasure of Kidd's Pines."

"Well, I do think you've earned it!" I exclaimed. "If it were mine to give I'd give it with my blessing."

"I owe it largely to you – you and your Lightning Conductor." It was to me Peter spoke; but he looked at Pat, "I don't know what I should have done without you."

That was nice of him, wasn't it? I love praise, even when I don't deserve it. We have taken an interest, if we've done nothing more. And so have you, my kind Mercédes. Peter and Pat, and you and Monty, and Jack and I, are Perfect Dears, if I do say it myself. And I know those two are going to be as happy as we are.

I wish you could both be at the wedding. It will have to be soon, if Jack and I are to throw rice and slippers.

Ever your loving old

    Molly.

THE END