The trial which had fallen upon the family of Mr. Rutherford was one so
new and unexpected, that, with the exception of himself and wife, but
little effect was made upon the members of it.
A vague report, indeed, ran through the house, of some trouble that had
befallen its master, but what was the nature of it they could not well
define. To Hettie alone had Mrs. Rutherford confided the secret; for she
felt that her strong attachment, her faithful disposition, and her
discreet behaviour, entitled her to confidence. She received the
information with a heart bleeding in sympathy, but manifested so much
good sense, had so many encouraging things to say, and put on such a
calm, peaceful look, that Mrs. Rutherford felt that she had indeed a
prop to lean upon in this faithful girl. All that day Hettie went about
with an energy beyond what was usual, taking from Mrs. Rutherford all
her cares and duties immediately domestic, and exerting every effort to
put as bright a face upon the family as if nothing had happened. The
servants in the kitchen had whisperings among themselves, but further
than that, there was no sign that any change had taken place. They
little knew the cause of bitter anguish that wrung the master's heart;
every thing to them appeared as heretofore: their beautiful mansion, the
pleasant grounds about it, the noble trees, and all the comforts that
spread such a satisfying charm over the whole, to them looked as sure as
ever; to him they were but shadows of the past--things that had been,
but are not--by one fell stroke swept, all swept away.
After the distracting scenes of the morning, Mr. Rutherford prepared to
make a journey of some miles, in order to attend to business connected
with the peculiar situation of his affairs, and more especially to
consult a legal friend, and get such advice as his case demanded.
Not expecting to return until the following day, he bade adieu to his
dear family with a sad heart; and as he mounted his favorite horse, and
rode away from his much-loved home--now his no more--he felt that he was
under the chastening rod--the hand of God was upon him.
It is said that birds of prey can scent their victims from afar, and spy
the hidden carcass, however secret the spot where it may fall.
It must have been by some such instinctive power that our old
acquaintance, Mr. Richard Tucker, was affected, on the day that
witnessed the catastrophe of Mr. Rutherford's concerns. His place of
residence was some miles off, and no tidings had he received of any such
event; and yet his yellow gig was that day put in requisition, and
northward he must go.
'I shall be home by night, may be.'
This was all that he deigned to say, as he left his home, and the old
gig squeaked and rattled as his raw-bone mare started off at a round
trot; perhaps she scented her master's game.
About a mile from the Rutherford estate there was a small collection of
buildings; it bore the title of village however, and comprised a church,
a blacksmith's shop, and a tavern, as also a few small and plain
tenements. The tavern, of course, was the rendezvous through the week,
and the place where all the news and scandal could be enjoyed. It was
soon known around that trouble had fallen on the great man of that
region, and a larger number than usual was congregated there just after
dinner. But, to their credit be it said, a feeling of deep regret was
very manifest: not a tongue was loosened against the sufferer, nor was
there one among them disposed to take any measures for his own security,
although to most of them he was indebted for services of different
kinds.
'George Rutherford,' said an aged, portly man, who seemed to be the
oracle of the place, and who had taken the large arm-chair on the wide
front piazza of the tavern, 'I have known from a boy; and if there ever
was an honest man and a gentleman, he is one. Things have been going
hard with him for some time, that we all know; he has had cunning chaps
to deal with, and may be they have ruined him; but sooner than take the
law of him, I will lose all he owes me, at any rate.'
'So would I;' and 'So would I,' resounded on all sides.
'But here comes Dick,' said the first speaker. 'I wonder what he is
after?--hunting for a job, I guess.'
And the old yellow gig drove up, and Mr. Tucker, with all the elasticity
of a young man, sprang from his seat, and alighted on the lower step.
'Good afternoon, gentlemen;' and Mr. Tucker bowed very stiffly, which
perhaps he was obliged to do, for his coat was buttoned up close to the
neck--a habit he maintained at all seasons.
'Good day, Mr. Tucker; you seem to be in a hurry, neighbor; the old mare
is quite out of breath.'
'Oh no; not at all,' turning at the same time, and eyeing his beast;
'she always breathes so. You may put her under the shed, Jo,' addressing
a good-natured looking black, who stood waiting orders at the head of
the beast.
'Yes, massa. Any oats, massa?'
'No--well--I don't care--yes. You may give her a mess--two quarts, Jo.
Wet them, you hear?'
Jo took the mare by the head, turned his face away from the company,
opened his broad mouth, and went grinning along to the shed.
'My golly! two quarts--ha, ha, ha! a half bushel no fill her belly--ha,
ha, ha!'
Mr. Richard has not altered much since we last saw him, either in
appearance or disposition. Why he had come along that afternoon, no one
knew; nor did he seem to be making preparation as though he had a job on
hand. He heard the news of Mr. Rutherford's disaster with apparent
indifference. I say apparent, for there is no doubt he felt much and
deeply; he talked with one and another, making very few remarks, but
asking a great many questions, and occasionally shrugging his shoulders,
and knitting his dark eyebrows--it was a way he had. What effect his
pantomime had upon those with whom he conversed was not very manifest,
for they finally dropped off, one by one, leaving no orders behind them.
It is an old saying, 'If one won't, another will.' Mr. Richard, no doubt,
had heard the saying, and must have had considerable faith in it; for
there was not an individual, either high or low, that escaped his
attentions.
The Irish are proverbially susceptible. Whether Mr. Richard knew this
as a historical fact, I will not pretend to say, nor whether it led him
to make a more direct and positive attack on poor Pat than he had done
upon others that day; the result, however, was, that Jerry Malony, a
rather good-natured fellow, to whom Mr. Rutherford was indebted for a
summer's ditching, and whose pay was as sure as though already in his
own hands, was suddenly seized with great terrors, in view of the
certain loss of all his hard earnings, and with a distressing anxiety to
become possessed, as a means of securing himself, of a pair of fine
black horses, then in the possession of said Rutherford.
We will not enter into all the particulars; suffice it to say, that Mr.
Tucker and Mr. Malony adjourned from the east corner of the piazza to a
private room inside the building, and thence to a justice of the peace,
and thence back again to the bar-room; and, finally, the two worthy
gentlemen were wishing each other very good health, and confirming their
wishes by potent draughts of genuine Monongahela. There were many little
arrangements to be made, which occupied them until the shades of evening
had settled very decidedly upon the land.
Old Caesar, the coachman--with whom we once became acquainted on the
little journey Mr. Rutherford and his lady took through the barrens some
years since--was still alive, and, to all appearance, active as ever.
The old black coach-horses, too, had lost none of their strength or
fire, for they were never overburdened, and being under the exclusive
charge of Caesar, were daily tended with as much care as though they had
been pet horses of a prince; their dark hides shone as brightly as
Caesar's countenance did after a good supper, and all their appurtenances
were kept in the most perfect order. To say that Caesar was fond of these
creatures, whom he had tended and driven so long, would not express all
his emotions towards them; they were, next to his master and mistress,
and their children, the objects that engrossed his feelings--and Caesar
had very strong feelings, too--his life he would have risked, or even
sacrificed, to have preserved any of them from harm. He had no wife or
children of his own, nothing to love except his master's family; and no
wonder then, if for these beasts, who obeyed every expression of his
will, and pawed, and neighed, and pranced, and did all but talk to him
when they heard his step approaching, he had peculiar feelings.
Moreover, Caesar was very proud of them: for they were acknowledged, far
and near, to be a noble pair; and, to crown all, they were looked upon
as his own. Mr. Rutherford never claimed any further right to them than
the privilege of a drive occasionally.
Caesar knew very little about his master's troubles; he had, indeed,
heard some whispering in the kitchen among the women; but he paid no
further heed to it than to bestow a back-handed blessing on their
tongues.
'Dey are always a-goin' jabbering about sumpin' or anoder. Massa George
know he own business well enough, neber fear.'
As Caesar's principal employment of late years was to attend to the
horses, he had persuaded his master to fit up for him a room in the
building where they were kept, so that, in case any accident should
occur to them in the night, he could be on hand. A door opened from this
room immediately into the stable; and as the whole premises were kept
with the greatest care, there might be found much less eligible sleeping
apartments in places that made greater pretensions. Caesar, however, did
not sleep there entirely alone. Besides his pets, the horses, he had a
dog of the real mastiff breed, that had been trained with much care, and
was as completely under the will of Caesar as the other quadrupeds; he
was a large, powerful creature, and unless under the complete control of
a master, would have been dangerous; but at Caesar's word, he would be
passive as a lamb, and at his bidding would lay the stoutest man upon
his back, and hold him there without doing further violence, unless
there was an attempt at resistance.
Mr. Richard and his client Jerry had been sitting on the piazza of the
tavern, watching for the return of Mr. Rutherford, who must pass that
way to his house; hour after hour slipped by, and they looked in vain.
'It's striking nine, your honour; shall we wait any longer?'
'It is my opinion, my good fellow, that we might as well be on our way.
As a matter of form, perhaps, it might be well enough just to make the
demand; but as there is no probability, if it is all true that I hear,
not the least probability that he can pay it, or will ever pay it, your
only chance, my friend, is, as I say'--slapping his hand on Jerry's
knee--'clap on to something tangible; and as you say the horses are
valuable, they will be about as handy as anything I can think of. They
have legs, you know; we can carry them off, or more probably, we can
make them carry us off--ha, ha, ha!'
All this was said with his face turned towards Malony, and speaking
close to his ear, while his auditor, being rather short and a little
worse for liquor, sat very erect, and looked as consequential as any
newly made Justice trying his first cause.
'And as we are to walk, I think we may as well be jogging.'
'I think so, your honor.'
The two worthies accordingly walked slowly along, and before a great
while found themselves in the broad avenue leading to Mr. Rutherford's
mansion.
'You are well acquainted here, I suppose, Malony? The dog you speak
of--is he--is he--loose?'
'No, your honor, not just loose; he keeps tight to the nigger.'
'And he, you say, sleeps in the stable?'
'Pretty near it, your honor--close by.'
'I think, my good fellow, that we may as well go at once, then, to the
stable; the nigger being there, it will be sufficient to demand them of
him, or to leave the attachment with him.'
Mr. Richard, it must be premised, was not over-burdened with law
knowledge. The people among whom he labored had taken his word as law
enough for them. They found it hard law, to be sure; but, poor souls,
they knew no better, and thought all was right.
Jerry had implicit confidence in his adviser, and so walked bravely
along. The dog being just then uppermost in his mind, knowing, as he
well did, his ferocious character, he cared much more about a proper
introduction to him, than any nice point in law.
'Hadn't I better be after strikin' a light, your honor? it's amazin'
dark.'
'Not yet, Malony; not until we reach the stable.'
It cost master Jerry no little trouble to strike his light, for his hand
was not very steady; and as he gave two blows with his finger against
the steel to one with the flint, there was more blood than sparks
flying.
'Bloody murther! that was a pealer: it's taken the skin, it has, your
honor.'
'Can't you hit it, Malony?'
'I hit it, your honor, but my finger took it fornint the stone.'
Mr. Richard now took matters into his own hands, and while Jerry was
blowing and snapping his fingers, he managed to get some sparks into
the tinder, and soon had his lantern in trim.
Caesar was about the middle of his first nap when he suddenly awoke, and
found that Trap was growling in a low undertone. Trap never barked, and
very seldom condescended to growl, Caesar knew that there must be
something going wrong; he therefore extricated his head from beneath the
bed-clothes, and cast his eye round the premises. The lamp was still
burning, and so far as his half-opened eyelids would allow him to see,
there was no one in his room besides the usual inmates. Trap, to be
sure, was out of his place, and sitting close by his master's bed,
looking very significantly up at the red night-cap. As soon as he
perceived that his master was awake, he ceased growling, like a very
sensible dog as he was, signifying thereby that his only design in using
his vocal powers was to stop the snoring, and call his master's
attention to matters and things in the waking world. After rubbing away
upon his eyes awhile, and working things awake there, Caesar, in a very
philosophic manner, by means of his two arms, which he threw behind him
and used as levers, first to raise and then to support and brace his
body up, attained a sufficiently elevated position to see and hear what
was going on. He was afraid of nothing but witches, and for that reason
always had a light on hand; it being well known that neither in daylight
nor candle-light was any danger to be apprehended from the 'good
neighbors.' But something or somebody was stirring, and near by, too,
for he evidently heard footsteps and voices, and, as well as he could
make it out, they must be in the stable. Being more or less afflicted
with the rheumatism, he was very deliberate in his movements. First
throwing his somewhat recumbent body into a straight and self-supporting
posture, and thereby relieving his arms from their burden; then casting
aside whatever impeded his progress, in the way of covering, he turned
his nether extremities by the pivot principle, brought himself in
position to stand erect on the floor, and proceeded at once to the
light, which was safely shut up in an old carriage lamp, through which
the rays streamed forth by a small glass, calculated to converge, and
throw them far ahead.
Caesar was somewhat of a gentleman in his feelings, and on the subject of
dress quite particular; for he followed the old fashion of small clothes
and knee buckles, and broad-skirted coat and vest, with large lappels,
and was ever ready, at any short notice, to appear with becoming apparel
in the presence of his mistress. These he wore by day; but he made a
complete change when he laid these by, and put on his night rig. As he
was a bachelor, and ladies, white or black, had no business about his
premises at night, he fixed himself as he thought best; and his fancy
was, red flannel. Why he chose that color, he never saw fit to
communicate; it may have been, however, that his good sense suggested
that white, the usual dress, would make too strong a contrast. He had on
a red flannel cap, that came pretty well over his ears, and a red
flannel frock, or tunic, covering him from the neck downwards to the
usual gartering place; below that the bare poles were plainly visible.
To those who knew him perfectly, there was nothing very frightful in all
this, because it was Caesar; but to those who might not have had
experience on their side, as he then appeared, with his lantern
streaming before him, he might have been mistaken for any thing that was
not earthly.
As Trap knew that his business was to keep still and remain in his place
until called, so soon as he saw his master upon his legs, he was
satisfied that all was correct, and nestled quietly down on his own bed.
The only weapon Caesar ever kept on hand, was a pitchfork, a very ugly
sort of a thing to come in contact with; for in the first place, it not
only makes two holes where a bayonet or sword would make but one, but it
gives great advantage to the one who uses it in its length of handle;
this may have been the reason why Caesar preferred it. At any rate, there
was always one standing in the corner of his room; it had very long and
heavy tines, and a handle sufficient to keep an enemy at a respectful
and safe distance. Feeling that it might be prudent to be prepared for
danger, even if there was none, he grasped his weapon in one hand, and
with the lamp in the other, drew back the little bolt, and throwing the
door wide open by a strong push, stood in bold relief, casting his light
round about through the large roomy stable, and straining his eyes to
ascertain who or what it was.
His appearance was the cause of considerable surprise; for although Mr.
Malony had talked very freely about the _nigger_, as he was pleased to
style Mr. Caesar Rutherford, and although both he and Mr. Richard
expected to see him in the course of their proceedings, yet they could
have had no very correct idea what shape a mere mortal, especially a
black one, could assume; for no sooner did their own light throw its
beams upon this sudden apparition, than they both made rapid retrograde
movements, Jerry, in his haste, bringing up against the opposite wall,
and Mr. Richard stepping back towards the door, as though it would be
safe at least to be out of reach of the pitchfork.
Whether Caesar was alarmed, it would be difficult to say; for he made no
motion other than to throw the light of his lamp, first on one and then
on the other of his visitors.
Jerry, he thought, he had seen before; in fact, he was quite sure that
he could not be mistaken in the little chunky Irishman, who had been so
long under his master's pay; but Mr. Richard, Caesar could not make out;
he had never been in these parts, that he remembered.
As Caesar's appearance did not improve upon inspection, and as the two
gentlemen were too far separated to consult as to further proceedings, a
long silence would have been maintained had not Caesar opened a parley--
'What a you want here?'
The tones were not very mild, nor was the address made in very good
humor; for Caesar threw in a few emphatic words which he sometimes used
when excited, just by way of seasoning, and which for brevity's sake are
omitted; but then it was a human voice, and it gave some assurance to
Mr. Richard at least. He therefore advanced one or two paces:
'Ah, that's you, is it, Boss?'
'Git out wid your Boss, and tell me what a you want here dis time a
night!'
'Oh, we don't want any thing with you, my good fellow, but we have got a
little business here that must be attended to. You know Malony
here?'--turning at the same time towards his discomfited
companion:--'You know he's been at work here all summer for your master.
Here, Malony, step up here; you have nothing against this good man, you
know.'
But Malony preferred remaining where he was. Caesar's eyes, he thought,
showed a little too much of the white to be very safe, especially under
the circumstances.
'I am sorry to have disturbed you, my good fellow, but as somebody must
be notified before we proceed, I will just read the warrant, as I
suppose you will hardly be able to make it out yourself;' and Mr.
Richard pulled out a bit of paper and began to read rapidly--'Know all
men by these presents,' etc. Caesar, in the mean time, was getting his
wrath up. He never liked the Irishman, and had often cautioned his
master against him; and Mr. Richard's countenance not being, as my
readers will remember, very pre-possessing, together with the fawning
manner in which he attempted to get round him, woke up Caesar's
sensibilities:
'Mister, go to grass wid your paper, and tell a me what you want
'sturbing people dis time a de night.'
Mr. Richard being thus interrupted in his proceedings, stopped reading,
and looking full in Caesar's face--
'You know, I suppose, my good man, that Mr. Rutherford has failed?'
'Hab what?'
'Has failed; that is, can't pay his debts.'
'You a big liar.'
Mr. Richard didn't blush; he never had in his life; but he began to pick
up a little courage.
'You must take care, old fellow, how you speak; I am an officer of the
law, take care, sir. Here Malony, lead out one of these horses, and I
will take the other.'
'What dat you say?'
And Caesar stepped forward, Mr. Richard retreating at the same time,
until he came to the edge of the stall.
'Me like to see you touch one of dem horses.'
Mr. Richard had now come in closer contact with Caesar; and perceiving
that he was quite an old man, and walked rather stiff, made a sudden
spring, and grasped the pitch-fork.
'Trap, Trap.'
There was a rush from the little room, and in the next moment Mr.
Richard was lying on his back, with the fore-paws of master Trap resting
one on each shoulder, and his mouth presenting a row of teeth in such
dangerous contiguity to Mr. Richard's throat, that he began to fear
matters were tending to extremities, and called out 'Murder!' at the top
of his voice.
'Hole you lyin' tongue; he be de death of you.'
'Malony, Malony! help, help; kill the dog; quick, take a pitchfork, any
thing, do, my good fellow, he'll murder me.'
But Mr. Malony was not so drunk but he had sense enough to see that
there was mischief brewing; and no sooner was Mr. Richard on his back,
than he bolted and ran for dear life, Mr. Richard's cries only adding
wings to his flight across lots for home.
'I tell a you what, mister, you no hole you tongue and keep till, me let
de dog take you lights out in a minit. Hold him dare, Trap, till a
morning; den we see how he look.'
'Oh, good man! good man!' Mr. Richard spoke now in a whisper--'do--don't
go away, don't leave me here; I promise I will go right off; I was only
doing my duty as an officer.'
'Me gib a you duty; you 'member Caesar next time; take care de horses no
kick a your brains out.' There was indeed a very dangerous proximity
between Mr. Richard's head and the horses' heels, especially as they
were pawing and prancing about under the exciting influence of Caesar's
voice.
'Oh do, good Mr. Caesar, for the love of mercy, just take the dog off,
and let me go! I give you my sacred honor'--But Caesar had no such idea.
The insult offered to his master and his horses had steeled his heart.
'I tell a you what, mister; you no lay till and keep a your tongue, your
time is short; he only take two mouthful, you be gone chicken, so good
night to you;' and Caesar hobbled back into his room.
The grave and the gay, the mirthful and the sad, are so blended in this
world, that in delineating any series of events, we find ourselves
constrained to shift the scenery so often and so suddenly, that if we
did not know we were sketching from nature, we should fear to be charged
with drawing upon fancy, even to extravagance.
Caesar had bidden Mr. Richard good night, and to all appearance, designed
leaving him, as he said, 'to de mornin', to see how he look den.'
He had been sorely disturbed, and perhaps feeling that it would be
rather difficult to compose himself to sleep under the existing state of
things, he so far arranged himself in his day apparel that he felt ready
for any emergency; it was not according to Caesar's sense of propriety to
be caught in just the shape he had been. After fixing things a little,
he threw himself on the bed, talked away for some time, and even made
one or two broad grins, as though there was something on his mind not
very unpleasant, and finally sunk into a dreamy state, conscious, most
of the time, of the condition of external things immediately around him,
and yet so mixed up with things and places very foreign to them, that
it was not the easiest matter in the world for him to be sure whether he
was asleep or awake.
How long he had been lying in this state it would be difficult to say,
for time, under such circumstances, makes no tracks that are
perceptible.
Among other ideas that flitted through his mind, was that of a light
which kept flickering across his window, and occasionally brightening up
his whole room. For some time even after he was awake, he lay and
thought about it. Distinctly beholding the glare, which now had become
steadily bright, filling his whole room and absorbing completely the
light of his lantern, suddenly he sprang from his bed, his mind awaking
to a full consciousness that something was wrong; he hurried through the
stable, and calling off Trap from the pitiful object who had been
writhing under his surveillance, opened the outer door.
'Fire, fire, fire!' he called at the full extent of his voice--'fire,
fire, fire! Oh, my missus and de children!--the lord hab mercy.'
The old man forgot his age, and ran with the speed of youth.
The sight which had burst upon him was enough to have nerved with energy
the most sluggish and unfeeling. On Caesar it broke with most appalling
interest.
He could not, indeed, get a full view, for the house was screened by the
large trees and thick shrubbery; but enough could be seen to assure him
that the dwelling was on fire; and the inmates, if they had not escaped,
were in imminent danger, for the flames were flashing up to the tops of
the trees, higher than the roof of the main building. In a few moments
he was beside the burning pile, and the whole extent of the awful
calamity was revealed to him. The fire was raging over the whole of the
back part of the house, having already completely enveloped the back
building connected with it, and was throwing its forked flames over the
high roof, while the pitch-black smoke, which rolled around the whole
premises without, gave awful forebodings of what might be the state of
things within. No alarm had yet seized the family that he could discern;
he listened in vain for any sound but the terrible cracking of the
raging fire.
He attempted the nearest door, but found it fastened. The wood-pile was
at hand; he seized the axe; at that moment two men came running into
the court-yard and calling fire. Caesar barely glanced at them, they were
strangers to him; but he felt encouraged in his efforts; his arm was
nerved with the strength of his early days--one blow drove it from its
fastenings, and in he rushed amid the heat and smoke.
The two men followed him, but for a very different purpose than to
rescue the sleeping family from their fiery envelope.
When Mr. Rutherford left his home, as before related, his expectation
was to remain until the following day; but having accomplished his
errand early in the evening, he concluded to return to his family. It
would occupy much of the night, but he preferred spending it on
horseback, so anxious was he to be again with his wife and children;
they were all he had now, and his heart yearned after them with a warmth
of affection he had never realized before.
A little past midnight, as he was turning the summit of a hill, a sudden
flash of light shot up in the distance; he thought it was the glare of a
meteor; but painted on the clouds which overhung the western sky, it
left a deep-red glow. As he gazed, while slowly descending the hill, he
saw the flush extending, and gradually assuming a brighter and more
lurid aspect.
'It must be a fire; perhaps some poor sufferers are looking in anguish
upon the wreck of their little all.'
And on he went, ever and anon casting his eye at the clouds, and marking
their curious forms, as the light in fitful flashes displayed their
shape.
At times, across the distant hills, he seemed to think that he could see
the position of the fire, but intervening objects would again confine
his view, and he could only discern the light on the clouds above him.
Coming at length to an angle in the road, from which he could look in
the direction of his home, he was startled to find that there was a
clear and well-defined streak of light emanating from some burning
building, which must be at least in that vicinity.
Without being conscious of any decided alarm, he urged his horse to a
faster pace, and kept his eye more constantly on the light. For some
miles from where he lived the road ran among the hills; so that, however
great had been his anxiety, it could not be gratified until he should
emerge into the open country. At length he is ascending the last
eminence that intervenes between him and the objects of the affections;
the light is still blazing on the clouds above him; he hastens to the
summit, and beholds--heart-rending sight--the home of his childhood--the
dwelling where all his earthly hopes and love were clustered--a mass of
crumbling ruins, from which the forked flames were shooting up and
crackling on the still night-air; those demon sounds went in streams of
madness to his heart.
'Oh, my God!' he exclaimed; and deep in the sides of his horse he struck
his spurs, and the good creature was urged into terrific speed. It was
but a mile, and it was passed with a whirlwind's pace. Straight to the
burning pile he rode; a few person's he discerned collected as near the
fire as the raging heat would permit.
'My wife and children!--for God's sake tell me quick--where are they?'
He sprang from his horse, and was in the arms of the faithful Caesar.
'All safe, Massa George! all safe, tank God!'
'Thank God! thank God!' and he fell upon the old man like a helpless
infant. He was carried into an outhouse, which had been spared by the
devouring element, and kind hands and hearts were soon about him
administering to his relief. As he awoke to consciousness, his beloved
Mary was bending over him, and her warm lips pressed to his in the
ecstasy of her joy.
'Oh, Mary! my dear wife! where are my darlings? bring them to me; let me
clasp you all once more!'
And quick they came. He cast a look on each, a fond, a satisfied look,
and then in one warm embrace he held them all.
'Oh God! this is enough--I ask no more. Let me have but these--poverty
in any shape may come; we will not fear it.'
'Amen! my dear husband; we will not fear it.'
It is often said by those who look on the dark side of Divine
dispensations, that troubles always come in clusters, and one deep
sorrow soon gives place to another. This may be true, but not in the
sense which these croakers of misery would intimate. As happiness and
unhappiness are often but relative terms in our changing world, it needs
but the wise Director of events so to time the dispensations of his
Providence, that one evil may counteract another, or to hold up before
us the certainty that we and every interest near our heart are at his
disposal, to bring us quietly to acquiesce in his will; and in that
submission there is peace. George Rutherford, as he rode towards his
home, amid the solitude of midnight, pondering over his ruined fortunes,
felt that he was suffering the severest stroke which could have come
upon him; but when he came in sight of the spot where that home had
been, when he looked upon the terrible flames, and felt the dread
uncertainty which hung over the fate of those dear ones of his heart, he
then felt that God, his Sovereign and his Father, had at his command
profounder depths of sorrow in which his soul might agonize. The loss of
fortune was but a mere sip of the bitter cup, a mere mist from the dark
and waste wilderness of mortal suffering; and when he folded his dear
wife and children in his arms, he felt, as he said, 'Let poverty come,
we will not fear it.'
But he had yet to learn the full meaning which that word conveys. Little
could he tell, born as he had been to affluence, the anguish which would
at times wring his spirit; his resources drained, his home destroyed,
the little comforts to which his family had been accustomed, the
gratification of their finer tastes, the elegancies of life--all cut
off; it was well for him that he could not know at once the full extent
of that change which had passed upon his fortunes.
One bitter ingredient in his cup was, that he could now plainly see that
he had been remiss in that watchfulness and care which were demanded of
him, over the inheritance that had been bequeathed to him. His kind
feelings had been indulged without the exercise of common prudence, and
he had permitted a morbid sensibility that shrunk from a just suspicion
of those whose delinquencies he was not wholly ignorant of, and last,
though not least in the catalogue which he reckoned up against himself,
was his gross neglect in regard to some things requiring but a moment's
attention, and yet involving serious consequences. The most mortifying
and truly disastrous of these was revealed to him a few days after the
scenes recorded in the last chapter. It occurred, too, at a moment when
his spirits had begun to revive a little from their depression. It had
been suggested to him that the time was not far off when his tract in
the barrens would be of immense value. Hitherto it had been estimated
comparatively as but little worth. The timber was indeed large, and its
value, when it reached the market, considerable; but the cost of
preparing it and transporting it so far left but a trifling return to
the owner. A new demand was about to be created in the successful
application of steam for river navigation. As hope began to agitate his
bosom, he immediately remembered that he had, but lately, been examining
the deed by which he held that property, and had noticed that there was
no certificate upon it of its having been recorded, and that he had
designed having it placed upon the public register. This design he had
not accomplished, and if it was not there, it was gone for ever, as he
knew the flames had devoured the original, with all his other papers.
Hoping that it might still have been recorded by his father, and the
notice of the fact neglected to be put upon the deed, he immediately
ordered his lawyer to make the search. It was in vain; and to add to his
chagrin, the gentleman who made the search informed him that a deed
which Mr. Cross had received from one of the original proprietors,
intended, as was supposed, to convey a title to only a few acres, did,
by this discrepancy, possess him of a vast tract of many miles in
extent. Terrible indeed was this blow to him; his last hope of
retrieving his condition vanished. He must now look abroad upon the wide
world for some honest means of supporting his family. How he envied the
laboring man, who, accustomed to toil from his boyhood, went forth to
his daily occupation with a lively spirit. How gladly would he have
taken his place, no matter how severe the work; but his muscular power
was not equal to it. Trained to no regular business, stript of all
external dependence, he saw before him but a dark and misty wilderness,
through which he must grope his way as he best could.