It cams to him after a little.

That bookcase, with its false bottom and secret drawers, had been the hiding place of the miserly John Stanley's gold.

In his will, he had spoken of that particularly, bidding Hugh be careful of it, as it had come to him from his grandfather, and this was the result.

What had been a mystery to the colonel was explained.

He knew what John Stanley had done with all his money, and that Hugh Worthington's poverty was now a thing of the past.
"I'm glad of it--the boy deserves this streak of luck, if ever a fellow did," he said, as he made his rapid explanations to Alice, who listened like one bewildered, while all the time she was gathering up the golden coin, which kept dropping from the sides and chinks of the bookcase.
There was quite a little fortune, and Alice suggested that it should be kept a secret for the present from all save Mrs.Worthington, a plan to which the colonel assented, helping Alice to recover and secrete her treasure, and then going with her to Mrs.Worthington, who sat weeping silently over the ruins of her home.
"Poor Hugh, we are beggars now," she moaned, refusing at first to listen to Alice's attempts at consolation.
They told her at last what they had found, proving their words by occular demonstration, and proposing to her that the story should go no further until Hugh had been consulted.
"You'll go home with me, of course," the colonel said, "and then we'll see what must be done." This seemed the only feasible arrangement, and the family carriage was brought around to take the ladies to Mosside--the negroes, whose cabins had not been burned, staying at Spring-Bank to watch the fire, and see that it spread no farther.