tween a poor people, cast out by
one nation, fighting for a footing on new soil, and a successful few,
who had forgotten the sufferings, the similar struggle of their fathers.
He rejoiced when Birmingham won. He had not a single regret for the
defeat of Livingstone, though it hurt him that a bad cause should have
found its leader in his kinsman.

CHAPTER XI.

AN ENDICOTT HEIR.

Meanwhile what of the world and the woman he had left behind? A year had
passed, his new personality had begun to fit, and no word or sign direct
from the Endicott circle had reached him. Time seemed to have created a
profound silence between him and them. Indirectly, however, through the
journals, he caught fleeting glimpses of that rage which had filled
Sonia with hatred and despair. A description of his person appeared as
an advertisement, with a reward of five thousand dollars for information
that would lead to the discovery of his whereabouts, or to a certainty
of his death. At another time the journals which printed both reward and
notice, had a carefully worded plea from his Aunt Lois for letter or
visit to soothe the anxieties of her last days. He shook over this
reminder of her faithful love until he analyzed the circumstances which
had probably led to this burst of publicity. Early in July a letter had
informed Sonia of his visit to Wisconsin; two months later a second
letter described, in one word, her character, and in six her sentence:
adulteress, you shall never see me again. A week's work by her lawyers
would have laid bare the fact that the Endicott estate had vanished, and
that her own small income was her sole possession.

A careful study of his motives would have revealed in part his plans,
and a detective had probably spent a month in a vain pursuit. The
detective's report must have startled even the lawyers. All clues led to
nothing. Sonia had no money to throw away, nor would she dare to appeal
too strongly to Aunt Lois and Horace Endicott's friends, who might learn
too much, if she were too candid. The two who loved him were not yet
really worried by his disappearance, since they had his significant
letter. In time their confidence would give place to anxiety, and
heaven and earth would be moved to uncover his hiding-place. This
loving notice was a trap set by Sonia. On the road which led from
Mulberry Street to Cambridge, from the home of Anne Dillon to the home
of Lois Endicott, Sonia's detective lay in wait f