A. D. 2000

He paused. An expression of surprise came over the face of Hugh, while anxiety was depicted in Lester’s countenance. Marie Colchis turned her eyes upon the speaker, but said nothing. As for Cobb, he thought it all quite natural, as, no doubt, Marie had told her uncle of his proposal.

“I will not keep you long in suspense. You, Lester,” and he turned toward him. “Love my daughter. You have asked for her hand more than once. I know she returns that love; and as her happiness is next my heart, I will not bring sorrow to her by refusing your request.” He stepped forward, and took the hand of Mollie, whose cheeks were red with blushes, and led her to where Lester stood, having risen from his chair. “Lester, take her; she is yours. Be a good, kind husband to her, is all I ask.”

Lester took the fair girl in his arms, and imprinted the first lawful kiss upon her lips.

“And now,” continued Mr. Craft, “as two hearts are thus made happy, let me seek another pair. Hugh; stand up, my son.”

Hugh arose, gently raising Marie Hathaway from the sofa, and moved toward his father. “Father,” he said, “here is another pair.”

Marie hung her head in confusion, but Hugh was bold and fearless.

“I know all about you two also,” said Mr. Craft, smiling. “I am more than satisfied to receive such a daughter as you, Marie Hathaway.” The girl started as her name was pronounced, and a guilty blush mantled her cheek at the thought of the deception she had practiced upon this good old man. “Unto my son I give you, if it be your wish that he should become your husband.”

He paused. Marie made no reply, save to pass her hand through Hugh’s arm, and nestle closer to his heart.

“Hugh, take her, and bless God for the prize which you have received.” Hugh led the girl away with joy in his heart.

“Junius” – the President spoke the word low, and with more embarrassment than he had used in addressing the others – “I know not how to commence. She who stands by your side is not my niece, but my daughter,” and he took Marie Colchis’ hand in his, and drew her toward him. “She is my daughter; no blood makes the tie, but that of love has given her to me. She stands before you alone in this life. No father or mother, brother or sister, or relative has she in the wide world.” The tears were now falling from Marie’s eyes, and she clung closer to her adopted father. Hugh and Lester looked on in silence but wonder. “She has come,” he continued, “like a radiant star in our universe, and from a remote period of time. She lived years ago – a hundred or more. Do not start, Junius,” as the other moved a step, and stood gazing on Marie’s face with a look of partial recognition. “Like you, she lived, and died, and lived again. The same methods which were used to prolong your life were used to give life again to this fair girl. The hand that assisted at your interment prepared the casket wherein his daughter has lain for over a century. She is – ”

The wild excitement of Cobb’s soul, paralyzed for a moment by the words of the other, now broke forth in a hoarse, pathetic cry – “Marie Colchis!” and he rushed forward, and almost crushed the fair form in his strong arms. Regardless of all present, he kissed her face, her lips – kissed her with all the depth and passion of a man receiving back from death the being divine of his heart.

When Cobb’s feelings had calmed sufficiently for him to realize the situation, the President led him and Marie to their chairs. “Take her, Junius; God has ordained it!” he said, with a choking sensation in his throat. Without letting too long a pause ensue, he drew from his pocket a paper, unfolded it, and said: “Listen, my children, to the last words of that girl’s father, Jean Colchis.”

In a low tone he read:

“Guadalupe Island, December 15, 1897.

“Junius: To you I leave these words! Dead though thou art, yet a voice tells me that you will live again. In this chamber, with the inanimate body of my darling daughter lying beside me, I write my last words to mortal man.

“From the day you left us, and for years after, the heart of Marie has lain like a stone in her bosom; no feeling but that of love for you has gained entrance there.

“Wealth poured in upon me, and I endeavored by its aid to surround her with life, luxury and change of scene, hoping thus to turn her thoughts into other channels than of you. It was in vain! Sad and sorrowful she passed the days and years in hope of your return.

“I did not tell her that you had entered into a state of inanimation from which you would not awake until years had passed. I could not crush her heart! The days came and went, and no change took place. I felt that she was dying of a broken heart. As the conviction forced itself upon me, I prayed to God for help. Long and long I debated the situation. The knowledge was apparent that she would die ere many days had passed unless means were promptly taken to remove the sorrow in her heart on account of your prolonged absence. What should I do? I had assisted in your preparations for a future existence; I knew of the methods you had taken to continue life in your body.

“‘Junius can never return to my daughter,’ I cried, in the agony of my soul. ‘Why not send that daughter to him?’ If you lived, she might again live, through the means I might employ. If you did not survive the ordeal, then it were better that she, also, should die. I argued with myself; I won. I sought for a spot where no human being would find the resting place of my beloved daughter until the time should arrive for her deliverance. I selected the island of Guadalupe, far from the busy world. I prepared the chambers and made them beautiful.

“My daughter came, and for nearly a year we lived in quiet but sad community. But, alas! it was of no avail! I saw her dying before my eyes. I resolved to subject her to a living death, in the hope that she might live again and be happy.

“I have prepared her body, even as you had told me yours was to be prepared. I inclose her fair form in a golden coffin, as a fitting receptacle for one so true and noble. With immortelles for her death, should she die, I surround the casket; with orange blossoms at her head, in the hope of future life and of her marriage to you, I lay her to rest.

“In an iron box at the foot of her coffin you will find my last testament, and the dowry I bequeath my daughter. I have prepared everything for this moment. That you might know this place, I put the letter into the copper cylinder; I bored through the walls of your tomb, and pushed in the case; and when I heard it fall on the floor of your sepulchre, I sealed up the hole. I knew if you lived again you would rescue your Marie. I felt, that if you died, it was better that she died also.

“The time has come! I lay this letter upon the snowy bosom of her who loved you as never woman loved a man. O God! can mortal know the anguish that seizes my heart as I am about to seal the lid which closes her sweet face in a living tomb!

“When these words are read by thee, O my daughter, if ever thine eyes shall brighten again in life, my bones will lie bare and naked at the foot of thy coffin. Good-bye, my darling daughter. I close the lid! I seal thy fate!

“Jean Colchis.”

Without allowing the sadness of the moment to weigh upon their feelings, the President stepped to the door, and soon returned, followed by a servant bearing the little iron box which Dr. Town had carried on his saddle from Guadulupe Island, and which Mollie had surrendered to her father.

Soon it had been opened, and its contents exposed to view. A bundle of papers was on top, and these the President took out and gave to Cobb.

He took them, and opened the first paper: it was the will of Jean Colchis, giving to Junius Cobb, on the day of his marriage to Marie Colchis, all money due from the government of the United States on the contract of sale of the invention of the sympathetic telegraph. The second paper examined was the original contract for the transfer of this invention to the government in consideration of $5,000,000 paid down and a perpetuity of one-half of one per cent, on the gross earnings derived from its use.

“Why!” exclaimed the President, as Cobb read the contract, “you will be one of the richest men in the country. As near as I remember, there are over a hundred millions of dollars lying unclaimed in the Treasury on this contract.”

The third paper found was the formula for making the needles used in the invention, sympathetic.

“Ah!” cried Cobb. “This is most important! Not but that the wealth given Marie and me is most acceptable; but now,” and he held up the paper, “now the world will again know and make use of the secret of sympathizing the needles.”

“And you forget another thing, Junius,” broke in Hugh. “You are five millions of dollars richer by that paper, as that is the reward offered by the government for the discovery of the lost secret.”

The last paper in the box was then read:

“That the wealth which I possess may descend to my daughter unimpaired by time and change, I have converted the $5,000,000 which the government paid me for my invention into the sack of stones underneath this paper. J. C.”

Cobb reached his hand into the box, and withdrew a silken bag. Opening it, he poured the contents upon the table.

All started with exclamations of astonishment at the sight; and well they might. The center of the table seemed ablaze with a million sparkling, dancing rays of light. Five million dollar’s worth of precious stones lay before them – the dowry of Marie Colchis.

“Junius,” said the President, laying his hand upon the young man’s shoulder, “wealth has rolled in upon you by millions, but above all the wealth you have received is the fair prize you have won, your future wife,” and he kissed the blushing face of Marie. “One more gift I can add to the many you have received,” and he drew from his pocket a folded paper bearing the great seal of the Navy Department upon it. “Your commission as Admiral of the Aërial Navy of the United States,” and he handed the paper to Junius Cobb. “Your discovery of meteorlene has revolutionized warfare, and you soon will command a powerful fleet of aërial war ships.”

Cobb bowed low as he accepted the paper, and expressed his gratitude to the President for this additional proof of his generosity.

“I was not far wrong,” exclaimed Hugh, grasping his hand, “when I saluted you as Admiral, on board of the Orion.”

“No, Hugh,” returned Cobb; “and I wish I had not been, when I returned it to you as my Commodore.”

“And you were not, Junius,” laughed the President, as he drew another paper from his pocket. “Your commission as Commodore in the Aërial Navy, Hugh,” handing him the paper.

“And what does my hubby get?” cried Mollie, pouting her pretty lips.

“A colonelcy in the army for distinguished service during the war,” and the President smiled as he took a third paper from his pocket and gave it to Lester.

“And now,” said Cobb, after a pause, “as wealth more than I can use has been heaped upon me, I wish to add my mite to the happiness of the moment. Hugh,” and he took up the third paper from the bundle on the table, “here is the secret of the sympathetic telegraph; it is worth five million dollars. Take it, and divide it between yourself and Lester, as a wedding gift from me.”

Then Marie stepped forward, and filled her two hands with glittering stones from the pile on the table. “Take these, my dear sisters,” she said, as she poured them into the laps of the two astonished girls; “take these as a bridal gift from Marie Colchis.”

THE END

1

“My Lord: Permit me, if you please, to present to you the young man of whose wonderful rescue from death you have been fully informed, no doubt.”

2

“My dear sir: I am informed that you have been among the dead since 1887 of your calendar. I see in you one who has been favored by Confucius and the god Buddha, in that you are permitted again to receive the air of life. You will do me an honor by visiting me when it may please you to come.”

3

“Mr. President, and you, my Lord: Do not be astonished to hear me reply in the language you have employed. I recognize as an accomplished fact that which was prognosticated a great many years ago: that the time would come when all civilized nations would employ a universal language. Believing that that day was not far off, I studied this language, and to-day see the advantage of it.”