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Page 84
"Tell me--tell me!" cried Erik, seeing that he hesitated. "Tell me and I
promise you pardon for all the evil that you have done, and my
everlasting gratitude if I am ever in a position to show it!"
The Irishman gave a covetous look at the leathern bottle.
"It makes my throat dry to talk so much," he said, in a faint tone. "I
will drink a little more if you are willing to give it to me."
"There is no more here, but we can get some at our depot of provisions.
We have two large cases of brandy there," answered Erik, handing the
bottle to Mr. Hersebom.
The latter immediately walked away, followed by Kaas.
"They will not be gone long," said the young man, turning toward his
companion. "Now, my brave fellow, do not make merchandise of your
confidence. Put yourself in my place. Suppose that during all your life
you had been ignorant of the name of your country, and that of your
mother, and that at last you found yourself in the presence of a man who
knew all about it, and who refused the information which was of such
inestimable value to you, and that at the very time when you had saved
him, restored him to consciousness and life. I do not ask you to do
anything impossible. I do not ask you to criminate yourself if you have
anything to reproach yourself with. Give me only an indication, the very
slightest. Put me on the track, so that I can find my family; and that
is all that I shall ask of you."
"By my faith, I will do you this favor!" said Patrick, evidently moved.
"You know that I was a cabin-boy on board the 'Cynthia'?"
He stopped short.
Erik hung upon his words. Was he at last going to find out the truth?
Was he going to solve this enigma and discover the name of his family,
the land of his birth? Truly the scene appeared to him almost
chimerical. He fastened his eyes upon the wounded man, ready to drink in
his words with avidity. For nothing in the world would he have
interfered with his recital, neither by interruption nor gesture. He did
not even observe that a shadow had appeared behind him. It was the sight
of this shadow which had stopped the story of Patrick O'Donoghan.
"Mr. Jones!" he said, in the tone of a school-boy detected in some
flagrant mischief.
Erik turned and saw Tudor Brown coming around a neighboring hummock,
where until this moment he had been hidden from their sight.
The exclamation of the Irishman confirmed the suspicion which during the
last hour had presented itself to his mind.
Mr. Jones and Tudor Brown were one and the same person.
He had hardly time to make this reflection before two shots were heard.
Tudor Brown raised his gun and shot Patrick O'Donoghan through the
heart, who fell backward.
Then before he had time to lower his rifle, Tudor Brown received a
bullet in his forehead, and fell forward on his face.
"I did well to come back when I saw suspicious footprints in the snow,"
said Mr. Hersebom, coming forward, his gun still smoking in his hands.
CHAPTER XX.
THE END OF THE VOYAGE.
Erik gave a cry and threw himself on his knees beside Patrick
O'Donoghan, seeking for some sign of life, a ray of hope. But the
Irishman was certainly dead this time, and that without revealing his
secret.
As for Tudor Brown, one convulsion shook his body, his gun fell from his
hands, in which he had tightly held it at the moment of his fall, and he
expired without a word.
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