"Who will say that I do no good," observed Melchior, smiling, as soon as
she was gone. "Her avarice and that of her husband are as notorious as
their anxiety for children. Now, if I persuade them to be liberal, I do
service."
"But you have given her hopes."
"I have, and the very hope will do more to further their wishes than
anything else. It is despair which too often prevents those who have no
children from having any. How often do you see a couple, who, after
years waiting for children, have at last given up their hope, and
resigned themselves to the dispensations of Providence, and then, when
their anxiety has subsided, have obtained a family? Japhet, I am a
shrewd observer of human nature."
"That I believe," replied I; "but I do not believe your last remark to
be correct--but Timothy raps at the door."
Another lady entered the room, and then started back, as if she would
retreat, so surprised was she at the appearance of the Great
Aristodemus; but as Timothy had turned the key, her escape was
impossible. She was unknown to us, which was rather awkward; but
Melchior raised his eyes from his book, and waved his hand as before,
that she should be seated. With some trepidation she stated that she
was a widow, whose dependence was upon an only son now at sea; that she
had not heard of him for a long while, and was afraid that some accident
had happened; that she was in the greatest distress--"and," continued
she, "I have nothing to offer but this ring. Can you tell me if he is
yet alive?" cried she, bursting into tears; "but if you have not the art
you pretend to, O do not rob a poor, friendless creature, but let me
depart!"
"When did you receive your last letter from him?" said Melchior.
"It is now seven months--dated from Bahia," replied she, pulling it out
of her reticule, and covering her face with her handkerchief.
Melchior caught the address, and then turned the letter over on the
other side, as it lay on the table. "Mrs Watson," said he.
"Heavens! do you know my name?" cried the woman.
"Mrs Watson, I do not require to read your son's letter--I know its
contents." He then turned over his book, and studied for a few seconds.
"Your son is alive."
"Thank God!" cried she, clasping her hands, and dropping her reticule.
"But you must not expect his return too soon--he is well employed."
"Oh! I care not--he is alive--he is alive! God bless you--God bless
you!"
Melchior made a sign to me, pointing to the five guineas and the
reticule; and I contrived to slip them into her reticule, while she
sobbed in her handkerchief.
"Enough, madam; you must go, for others require my aid."
The poor woman rose, and offered the ring.
"Nay, nay, I want not thy money; I take from the rich, that I may
distribute to the poor--but not from the widow in affliction. Open thy
bag." The widow took up her bag, and opened it. Melchior dropped in
the ring, taking his wand from the table, waved it, and touched the bag.
"As thou art honest, so may thy present wants be relieved. Seek, and
thou shalt find."
The widow left the room with tears of gratitude; and I must say, that I
was affected with the same. When she had gone, I observed to Melchior,
that up to the present he had toiled for nothing.
"Very true, Japhet; but depend upon it, if I assisted that poor woman
from no other feelings than interested motives, I did well; but I tell
thee candidly, I did it from compassion. We are odd mixtures of good
and evil. I wage war with fools and knaves, but not with all the world.
I gave that money freely--she required it; and it may be put as a
set-off against my usual system of fraud, or it may not--at all events,
I pleased myself."
"But you told her that her son was alive."
"Very true, and he may be dead; but is it not well to comfort her--even
for a short time, to relieve that suspense which is worse than the
actual knowledge of his death? Sufficient for the day is the evil
thereof."
It would almost have appeared that this good action of Melchior met with
its reward, for the astonishment of the widow at finding the gold in her
reticule--her narrative of what passed, and her assertion (which she
firmly believed to be true), that she had never left her reticule out of
her hand, and that Melchior had only touched it with his wand, raised
his reputation to that degree, that nothing else was talked about
throughout the town, and, to crown all, the next day's post brought her
a letter and remittances from her son; and the grateful woman returned,
and laid ten guineas on the black cloth, showering a thousand blessings
upon Melchior, and almost worshipped him as a supernatural being. This
was a most fortunate occurrence, and as Melchior prophesied, the harvest
did now commence. In four days we had received upwards of 200 pounds,
and we then thought it time that we should depart. The letters arrived,
which were expected; and when we set on in a chaise and four, the crowd
to see us was so great, that it was with difficulty we could pass
through it.