CHAPTER XXV.
IN WHICH PHIL FINDS THE PROSPECT GROWING BRIGHTER.
The meeting with the family of Mr. Gracewood was none the less pleasantbecause it was entirely unexpected. I had been expecting and hoping tosee them, till I was afraid the winter would set in and compel themto remain where they were till spring, for Mrs. Gracewood was too illto bear the fatigues of the long journey by land. I thought that Ellalooked prettier than ever, and the welcome she gave me was worth allthe patient waiting I had bestowed upon it.
The lady looked very pale and sick; indeed, a great change had comeover her since we parted, only a few weeks before. I saw that she hadbeen very sick, and that she was still very far from being in her usualhealth. Though she had been brought up tenderly and delicately, shehad done the house-work, with the assistance of Ella and myself, at thesettlement during the summer. For my own part, I felt quite alarmedabout her, she looked so pale and sick. She was reclining upon thelounge when I entered, but she rose to greet me.
"I am glad to see you, Phil Farringford, for I have thought a greatdeal about you since we parted so strangely," said Mr. Gracewood. "Yourletter afforded me a great deal of satisfaction."
"I have worried a great deal about you and your family, sir," Ireplied; "and it gives me new life to see you again. When did youarrive?"
"We did not get ashore till after nine o'clock, too late to go out toGlencoe, where my brother lives at the present time."
I wanted to tell him that his brother was in the very next room; but Idid not think that I had the right to complicate the affairs of others,and I said nothing.
"What have you been doing, Phil?" asked Mr. Gracewood.
"I am a carpenter now; I work at the Plane and Plank, and am doingfirst rate," I replied.
"I have a long story to tell you, but I suppose it is rather late tobegin it to-night."
"I am afraid it would be rather trying to the nerves of Mrs. Gracewood,and we will postpone it," he replied, glancing at his wife.
"Do let me hear it, Phil," interposed Ella.
"I shall be very glad to tell you all about it, Ella; but it is toolate to-night; I must go home now."
"Where is your home, Phil?"
"I board with a widow lady, who is one of the best women in the world.She has acted like a mother to me. I will come in the morning and seeyou again."
I took my leave of the family; but as Mr. Gracewood followed me downstairs, I had no opportunity to see Mr. Rockwood, as I had intended, toinform him of the new arrival. I hastened home, and found my father andMrs. Greenough very much worried at my prolonged absence: but I had astory that was worth telling to relate, and it was midnight before weretired.
After breakfast the next morning I dressed myself in my best clothes;and I could not help thinking that Ella would be willing to believe Iwas not a bad-looking young fellow. My father was very feeble, but itwas a satisfaction to know that he was improving. Mrs. Greenough wasunwearied in her efforts to restore him to moral and physical health.Probably his illness in a measure spared him from the cravings of hisappetite for drink. He sat in his easy chair a large portion of the dayreading the Bible, and such good books as our kind landlady providedfor his needs.
I hastened to the hotel to see my friends as soon as I could get awayfrom home. I called upon Mr. Rockwood first, and he assured me that hispatient was doing very well, but had not yet left his bed.
"I am afraid things are getting a little tangled here, sir," Isuggested.
"What do you mean, Phil? Does anything go wrong?" asked Mr. Rockwood.
"There was an arrival last night at this hotel," I continued, in a lowtone.
"Who?"
"Mr. Gracewood, from the upper Missouri," I replied, in a whisper.
"Is it possible!"
At this moment the invalid tottered through the open door, and stoodbefore us.
"I knew it!" said he; "I knew it!"
"What?" inquired Mr. Rockwood.
"That my brother had come. You need not attempt to conceal it from me.I heard his voice all night long. He is in the next room."
The planter looked at me, and I looked at him. It was not probablethat the invalid had heard his brother's voice all night long; and itwas possible that, whatever the fact might be, he was laboring under adelusion.
"Be calm, Mr. Gracewood," said the planter.
"Calm? I am as calm as the surface of a summer lake. Don't you see thatI am calm? I fear nothing now. I will not be a knave, and I will not bea hypocrite. I heard my brother's voice last evening before I went tosleep, and the sound of it haunted me all night. I will tell him thewhole story, for I will not let him believe that I am better than I am.If God will forgive me, I know my brother will."
Mr. Gracewood explained the course of his thoughts during the long andweary night he had passed. It was but the old story, that he whosins must suffer; and his experience made me resolve anew to be alwaystrue and faithful to the truth and the right; for if the conscience cansting here, in the midst of the allurements of the world, what will itnot do in the hereafter?
REUNION OF PHIL AND HIS FRIENDS. Page 292.]
Mr. Gracewood declared that he was ready to see his brother, and thesooner the better. I was sent to prepare my excellent friend for theinterview. I found the family in their parlor, and was cordiallygreeted by all of them. I told Mr. Gracewood that I had made theacquaintance of old Matt's brother, and that he was a planter. I thenasked him to go with me and see him. He consented, but in the entry Ipaused to tell him more.
"There is another brother here," I added, as he closed the door of theparlor behind him.
"Another of Matt's brothers?"
"No, your brother."
"My brother!"
"Yes, sir; I am sorry to say he is in rather poor health."
"Where is he?"
"In the next room to yours. He is with Mr. Rockwood, who owns thishotel."
"Let me see him at once. I hope he is not dangerously sick."
"No; but he is more troubled in mind than in body."
"Is he insane?"
"No, sir; he blames himself very much for something he has done."
"What has he done?" asked my friend, very much troubled.
"He has been gambling; but he regrets it so sincerely, that I am surehe will be a better man than he ever was before. You shall see him now,and I know you will be very gentle with him."
"It is not for me to condemn him; I can only condemn my own errors,"said my Christian friend, as I led him into Mr. Rockwood's rooms.
The invalid rose as he entered, and extended his hand to his brother,while the great tears rolled down his pale, wan cheek.
"I am glad to see you, Robert," said Henry. "I am sorry you are sick."
"I am sick at heart."
But I did not stay to hear the confession of the penitent. Ella went tochurch and to Sunday school with me; and after the latter I conductedher back to the hotel; for, besides the pleasure her company affordedme, I wished to know the condition of affairs between the brothers. AsI had expected, they were easily reconciled. My excellent friend had nomalice in his heart; and though his brother's error must have given hima severe shock, he was willing to cover the past with the repentancethat succeeded.
I dined with the family, and went to church in the afternoon; but Ispent the evening with my father. He was more cheerful than he had beenfor several days, and assured me he had found a peace in the truths ofthe gospel which he had never realized before. He was really happy; andif there was ever a changed man in the world, he was the one.
"Philip, I am well enough to think of the future," said he. "It worriesme, too."
"It need not."
"I may not be able to do anything for some time, for I am very weak. Isuppose I must be made over anew."
"Don't disturb yourself at all about that," I replied. "I am gettingsix dollars a week, and that will pay our board."
"I cannot live on your hard earnings, Philip," he added, shak
ing hishead. "I feel guilty even now; and I should not have come here to be aburden to you, if I had not been a wreck of what I was once."
"I assure you, father, it will be the greatest pleasure on earth for meto do what I can for you. I may not get a dollar a day all the time,but I have fifteen hundred dollars, sure, now."
"I hope I shall soon be able to do something for myself, Philip. Forthe last week I have dared to hope that your mother might come back,and that we might be as happy as we were before I dashed down all myearthly hopes."
"I hope so, father; nothing could make me so happy as to live with myfather and mother."
"Perhaps I may get a situation as a clerk, and earn enough to supportme; though it is hard, at my time of life, to go back and commencewhere I began twenty years ago. But I deserve all that can befall me,and I will be as humble as my circumstances are. God has been mercifulto me; he has spared and redeemed me."
"Do you know where my mother is?" I asked, burning with the old desireto see and know her.
"I do not. They have taken pains to keep all knowledge of her from me.I was told that she was in Europe, and I have no doubt such is thecase. I should like to let her know that our lost little one has beenmercifully restored, but I cannot do even that; and I will not ask herto live with me again until I have made myself worthy to do so."
Somehow God always sends good angels to those who, in trust and faith,are trying to help themselves. The door bell rang, and Mrs. Greenoughadmitted Mr. Rockwood.
"I am glad to see you again, Phil," said he. "I wished to see yourfather, and I wanted to tell you to be at the police station to-morrowforenoon at ten o'clock."
"I will be there, sir, if Mr. Clinch will let me off."
"He must let you off. If he won't, I shall send an officer to summonyou."
"I have no doubt he will let me go."
"Your evidence is necessary to convict Lynch. I am told that the youngfellow wants to make a confession."
"I should like very much to hear it, for I don't know even yet whythose fellows followed me up so closely."
"We shall know to-morrow.--How do you feel, Mr. Farringford?" added Mr.Rockwood, turning to my father.
"Better, sir; I hope to be out in a few days."
"You were once a very able business man, and I have no doubt you knowas much now as you ever did. I have been looking for a man who iscompetent to take charge of my property in St. Louis. You are the rightman, if--"
"If I keep sober," added my father, when the planter paused. "I have noclaim whatever upon your confidence; but I assure you I believe it isquite impossible for me ever to drink another drop of liquor."
This important matter was discussed for some time, but it ended in theappointment of my father as agent of the planter. When our visitorhad departed, the future looked bright and pleasant; and it seemed tome that the day was drawing nearer when our family should be reunitedunder one roof.