Chapter XXXIV

All this did not make very good sense to Jeff. He felt that he was making some sort of a show of himself, standing with round eyes as if he had lost his wits. He simply could not adjust himself to this extraordinary situation; and what was doubly unfortunate, Molly was at present altogether too busy to explain matters to him.

It appeared that she had to give certain directions to Semanof, Yanovisk, and other high officials of the Company as to the governing of the province until America could take possession. Prince Maksoutof, still a trusted friend of Alexander II, was to retain nominal control of the province, and since he had escaped from Karl’s dominance, no one anticipated misrule. Semanof, subject at last to a higher law than Karl’s, would remain in control of the garrison, while his former dictator would go to Russia to face the charge of treason.

Indeed, the tempered light of early evening lay over the town before Molly and Jeff had a word alone together.

At last they walked side by side up Lover’s Lane—the Governor’s walk of the Muscovite—and Molly explained everything to Jeff’s satisfaction.

“You see, Alexander II was suspicious of Karl and his crowd,” she told him. “The Russian Company had fallen into evil ways, due to the rise in power of a little group of men headed by Baron Karl and Staritsa; and the Czar knew—or believed—they were playing fast and loose with him. As you know, he wanted to sell Alaska to America—for various reasons—but pressure was brought to bear upon him and he gave the Company until February first to renew their charter. He feared that Karl would betray him in connection with the proposed treaty with the English company; and when I left St. Petersburg last summer, he instructed me to represent him personally in his American possessions, so if it became necessary, I could oppose Karl and counteract all his evil works.”

“Then the sale of Alaska to America would have gone through anyway—whether we blocked that treaty or not?”

“Not at all. The Czar had stated his terms for a renewal of the charter and he had to give the Company a chance to accept them if they would. I had no power to block the treaty with Hudson’s Bay Company, because I had no official position in the Russian Company. I was simply a special agent of an absolute monarch—representing his unimpeachable power. Thanks to Seward’s vision, what we did up there on the river saved Alaska for America.

“I was told not to exert my authority, or even to reveal it, until I was forced to do so. You can see why: Karl would have carried on his activities under cover instead of in the open, and he would have certainly rushed matters in closing the deal with the English company. I didn’t want to reveal my true position until their time limit had expired, and Karl had shown his true colors.”

“I suppose you are a subject of the Czar, instead of an American,” Jeff commented in a somewhat regretful tone.

“Of course I am an American, and born in America. Just the same, I have spent the greater part of my life in Russia. You didn’t think I learned to speak Russian on an American ship, did you, Jeff? I was able to talk to all these natives speaking bastard Russian—the Sitkan Kolosh—and I could hear many things I was not supposed to hear. Jeff, did you ever hear of Thaddeus Forest?”

“I remember his name. A statesman of some sort, wasn’t he? I don’t remember just what he did—”

“He was our ambassador to Russia, some years ago. It is strange you never connected me up with him.”

“You are his daughter, of course.” Jeff smiled, and she knew that some of his humor prevailed in him again. “Molly, you needn’t ever be surprised at any of my omissions. I’m just a very common and ordinary variety of fool!”

“The present Czar became attached to me when I was a child at the Russian Court,” Molly went on. “He always liked me, called me _Douschka_, rode and talked with me, and had a surprising lot of confidence in me. I have continued a friendship with him ever since, and trusting me a great deal—much more than I deserve—he asked me, when I left St. Petersburg last summer—to take this post out here, to protect his interests all I could against Karl and his friends. He told me I could do it as well as any man he knew, and was less likely to waken suspicion. Mr. Seward was aware of my appointment, and knowing you—better than you know yourself—he sent you up here, too. He knew you could help me and I could help you.”

“I’ll admit you have helped me, but I can’t remember that I’ve been any great help to you—except to get in scrapes for you to get me out of,” Jeff commented. “I suppose I was told to sail on the _Ethan Allen_ because you were on it. You are no more relation of Captain Skinner than I am. Instead of the niece of a humble seaman you are the daughter of a great man, an ambassador from America!”

“You are not looking at the matter quite straight, Jeff. That has been the trouble: you have been inclined to do some of your thinking in circles. You must not assume, in America, that the niece of a humble man cannot be the daughter of a great one. Here, thank Heaven, lies America’s greatness! You must not suppose that a cobbler can not be the brother of the President. United States is neither Russia nor England; it is the land of poor man’s hope, and I pray it will ever be. Greatness can come from any environment in our country. David Skinner does not happen to be my own uncle, but he is my mother’s uncle, and I have always been proud to call him that. He is the kind of skipper who in the War of 1812 made it unhealthy to stop and search our ships—the kind who overthrew the Barbary pirates when they had the whole world cowed.”

“His ship was never out of order at all, I suppose. He kept it in Sitka for any use you might have for it.”

“It wasn’t very seriously damaged, that’s certain. Jeff, instead of muttering in your throat, you ought to be jumping up and down with joy to think that he got away, that day in the inside passage. Those skins are as safe as if they are in a bank.”

“Of course, I know what it means to me. I hope I’m a patriot at last, but at least I’m human, and I’m only too glad to take the spoils of war. It means more than you perhaps realize: re-establishment of a home I loved, in my own country. We people in the Southland knew what home-love is.”

“I know you do, Jeff,” the girl told him, rather softly. “I believe I know how you feel.”

“I’m not muttering in my throat. I am only embarrassed and humbled and mortified beyond any words to express. I don’t blame you for not telling me sooner. I didn’t deserve to know. I can’t even blame you for the hell of fear you gave me last night, when you could have relieved me with one word. I got just what was coming to me for my patronizing air during those early weeks, my grand ways and my disparagement of you. I can’t see why you continued to help me; why you didn’t drop me like the cad I was.”

“You weren’t a cad. Your heart was in the right place, all the time. You were embittered by the terrible ordeal and disaster of the Civil War—like so many of your people—and you leaned on false ideas to keep from being utterly crushed. All you needed was readjustment, I wanted to tell you last night, but something—pride, I guess—kept me from it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t tell me. It was all a valuable lesson to me. And I’m glad I told _you_—what I did tell you—before I found all this out. So you know I was genuine in that, at least.”

The miracle light that he had seen and loved now and again—in hushed, glorious hours—welled once more in her eyes. “I’m glad of that, too, Jeff,” she confessed. “I can’t tell you how glad I am. Your love was too great and fine for any folly to come between. I will never cease to give thanks for that.”

“I want you to tell me one thing more, Molly—something you’ve kept from me a long time. I know why you kept it—you didn’t want me to be under any more obligation to you than I already was—and I’m sure, now, and have been sure a long time, that you know the real explanation. How did it happen that Karl got the empty gun, and I the loaded one, that day on the Kolosh Ryeka trail. I don’t believe for a moment that Staritsa got them mixed in their case.”

“No.” The girl smiled into his eyes. “He was very careful—indeed, he was altogether too careful. That was what wakened my suspicions.”

“What did you do?”

“I kept my eyes open, Jeff. I wanted to come with you especially to watch out for treachery. I saw him holding the case like a basket of eggs, careful not to turn it about in his hands, and I was sure he meant a certain pistol for you, and a certain one for Karl. Just to be sure, I walked close, and, watching my chance, simply turned the case around on the ground.”

“Oh, that was all!” Jeff remarked, making a funny face. “You certainly trifled away your time.”

* * * * *

“There is just one thing I want distinctly understood,” Jeff remarked, after a significant and very pleasant pause. “When you are the mistress of my house, I want you to forget that you are a capable and industrious Yankee and become—just a sweetheart. Hereafter I want to run things to suit myself. When there is something to be done, in the future, I want to be the one to do it. I expect to be the important member of our household.”

“So you shall, Jeff, so you shall.” She kissed him without warning. “You have been the important one all the way through, Jeff, my dearest. I just suggested things to you.” Her tone now became serious. “Except for you, the big thing we have tried to do up here would never have come to pass, and that is truth if I ever spoke it. Up there in the woods you came into your own.”

“Just the same, I want to make a few suggestions from now on—by my own self. I suggest now that you walk straight into my arms and do just what you did a moment ago.”

She obeyed—like the dutiful wife she soon would be.

THE END

TRANSCRIBER NOTES

Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where
multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.

Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer
errors occur.

[The end of _Seward’s Folly_, by Edison Marshall.]