It was certainly a trying position in which Ben was placed. He was only a boy of sixteen, and he found a man’s responsibility thrown upon him. In this juncture General Flint came to his assistance and practically took charge of the funeral arrangements.

According to instructions Ben opened the desk of his patroness, and found the sealed letter which he opened. It had been written since Mrs. Harcourt came to Geneva.

There were parts of it that surprised Ben not a little. The material portions are given below.

“Though I am in perfect health, so far as I know, there is a presentiment on my mind that I shall not live long. Should any sudden end come it is absolutely necessary that you should have an explanation of my selecting you as my companion and adopted son. I hope that what I may have to say will not entirely destroy your regard for me. “My own son, Edwin, for whom you are named, died about a year since and his body lies in Lausanne. I will not dwell upon my grief for the death of my only son. That will be understood. But apart from this his death brought me pecuniary embarrassment. He received by the will of his grandfather an income of ten thousand dollars a year, which was at my disposal. For myself, I am comparatively poor. I have about forty thousand dollars, but the income of this would not be adequate to keep up the style and rate of expenditure to which I have been accustomed. I was tempted therefore to conceal the poor boy’s death. I sailed for New York, and on the Bowery I met you. You were of the right age and bore a sufficient resemblance to Edwin to enable me to carry on the imposture which I planned. You know how I attached you to myself, and dressed you so that you might pass for my son. There was danger of discovery. For this reason, though I carried you with me to the house of my uncle, I only made one call, and relied upon his short-sightedness not to discover the deception. As he might ask you some embarrassing questions, I warned you that his mind was affected, so that they might not give rise to any suspicions in your mind, for I feared that you would not consent to play the part I designed for you if you thought it would be aiding and abetting fraud.

“The person whom I feared most was my cousin Basil Wentworth. He was not short-sighted, and he might very possibly remember my son Edwin, though he had not seen him for several years. Of course I was delighted to find that he was in Chicago. But suddenly, while dining at my uncle’s table, I was informed that in a few days he would be back in New York. I decided at once to go back to Europe, and lest you should object I said nothing to you about my plan till we were on the Etruria. After the steamer was under way I felt relieved. The danger was passed.

“On learning to know you better I found that I had made a fortunate selection. You had the looks and bearing of a gentleman and won the favor of all, even those of high position, as in the case of the Earl of Bentley and his family. I was proud of your social successes, since it reflected credit on me, who was supposed to be your mother.

“You remember how suddenly I left Paris. It was because I heard that Basil was in London, and likely any day to run over to Paris. He would undoubtedly ask you questions which would reveal the deception which I had practised. I came to Geneva, and finding it an agreeable residence I have remained here.

“Now let me tell you whom I have wronged. The income of my poor boy was, at his death, to to be divided equally between Basil Wentworth and a cousin who married a man named Mordaunt, and was at last accounts residing in Illinois.”

Ben started in surprise. He remembered that Frank Mordaunt had told him of his former residence in Illinois.

“Can it be possible,” he asked himself, “that Frank’s family will inherit five thousand dollars income when this deception is made known? I heartily hope so. It would relieve them from all anxiety.”

Ben was of a generous disposition, and the thought of his own loss did not occur to him.

“Should I be taken away, in which case and only then, this letter will fall into your hands, I desire as far as possible to repair the great wrong which I have done. I therefore ask you to telegraph at once to Basil Wentworth that I am dead, and request him, if possible, to come immediately to Europe, as you are too young to meet the responsibility which would fall upon you. It is my desire that the money due to Basil and the Mordaunts should be given to them, and the year’s income which has been paid to me for you should be paid over by my bankers. I have a will in the hands of John Munroe & Co., the Paris bankers, and upon the receipt of an order it will be delivered to Basil, whom I have designated as my executor.

“And now, Edwin, as I have learned to call you, I will close this letter. I have made it as definite as possible. During the time you have been with me I have formed an attachment to you. I earnestly hope that you may live long and prosper, and that you will never regret meeting with the mother of Edwin Harcourt.”

There was a certain pathos about this letter, and the tears rose to Ben’s eyes. He could not realize that the woman with whom he had been constantly associated for nearly a year, was really dead and that he would see her no more.

“I suppose we ought to telegraph to Mrs. Harcourt’s relatives,” said Ben, referring to General Flint.

“That seems to me the best thing to do, Ben. Do you know where they live?”

“Both in New York, and both in the same house. Mr. Anderson is the uncle of Mr. Wentworth.”

In the desk Edwin found nearly a thousand dollars, so that he was provided with money to pay Mrs. Harcourt’s funeral expenses.

“If there had been any difficulty, Edwin, I would have seen you through,” said his friend General Flint. “And that reminds me, your adopted mother says nothing of any provision for you.”

“No,” said Ben.

“What will you do if you are left out in the cold?”

“I have about one hundred and fifty dollars saved up from my allowance, which has been liberal.”

“That won’t go far.”

“No; but I won’t borrow trouble.”

“There is no occasion to do so. You have a friend in Obed Flint.”

“Thank you,” said Ben gratefully. “If I need a friend there is no one I would sooner apply to than you.”

This was the form of telegram which Ben sent to Basil Wentworth:

“Mrs. Harcourt is dead. Will you come on? She instructed me to send for you.”

This telegram, after some consideration, Ben signed “Edwin” as he could not explain that he had no claim to this name. The explanation would come later on.

He received an answer the same day. It ran thus:

“Edwin Harcourt:

“I will sail by the next steamer. Accept my sympathy.

“Basil Wentworth.”

“You have done all you could, Edwin,” said the general. “There is nothing to do but to wait till Mr. Wentworth arrives.”

“Will you stay also?” asked Ben anxiously.

“Yes, my boy. General Obed Flint is not the man to desert a friend when he needs him as much as you do.”

Ben also wrote a letter to Frank Mordaunt.

“If you are nearly related to Mrs. Harcourt,” he said, “I think you must be the heir to her son, who died more than a year since. Mr. Basil Wentworth, who is joint heir with you, is on his way to Europe, and will communicate with you. He had lost all traces of your family, but I think myself fortunate in being able to put him on your track. Hereafter, Frank, you will have no money troubles, and no one will rejoice more over your good fortune than your friend Ben Bruce.”