Mr. Rutherford had received his dear wife and children as it were from
the jaws of death, but it had been by the almost super-human exertions
of the faithful Caesar, who, for a long time, was disabled by the severe
injuries he had received as he bore them through the burning building.
The noble beasts for which Caesar had fought so bravely, with all the
luxuries and comforts of his large establishment, were swept away at the
demands of creditors, and nothing that he could call his own remained
except the faithful old negro--who, although a slave, was too far
advanced in life to be liable as property--and those dear objects in
which his heart still found some sweet solace amid the drear prospect
which surrounded him.
At present he was occupying a small house which had belonged to him
once, and used as a tenement for a laborer on his estate. Few were the
articles of furniture which sufficed for their use, and those had been,
for the most part, loaned for their immediate necessity. His lovely wife
still kept her pleasant smile, but her heart was smitten with a stroke
that pressed it down heavily. It was not the loss of all, nor the change
of abode, nor the rude and scanty furniture, nor all the other
aggravating tokens of their change of circumstances--but she saw the
struggle that was agitating her husband's mind; she could not relieve
him of that load of care; she could not obliterate from his memory past
errors, nor could she mark out for him a path that offered any other
prospect than the dark one in which they were travelling then. All she
could do was to make the best of what they had, to throw into her words
the softest tones, and to lighten up her countenance with the semblance
of hope she did not feel.
It was not long after they had thus been reduced to the extremity of
fortune's change, wearied with the turmoil of his distracted mind, Mr.
Rutherford was sitting at the little window that opened from their abode
upon the highway; his Mary was beside him, and she held his hand, and
fondly pressed it as she oft had done in better days, put it to her
heart, and let him feel how true it beat for him. The shades of evening
were just setting upon them, held back a little by the young moon which
hung out her crescent in the west, when a vehicle stopped at their door,
and a gentleman of lively mien alighted and prepared to enter. Mrs.
Rutherford went for a light, while her husband repaired to the door to
receive the visitor, whoever he might be, although, as he supposed, some
messenger of evil tidings, like all of late.
'Mr. Rutherford, I believe?'
'My name is Rutherford, sir; will you walk in?'
The stranger immediately followed, and entered their small apartment,
Mrs. Rutherford, at the same time, placing the light on a little stand.
'I expect you have forgotten me, Mr. Rutherford; my name is Andrews. You
remember the poor boy you helped some six years since.'
'Andrews--what, William Andrews!'
'The same, sir. A few years make some change in our appearance.'
It had, indeed, made some change, and one which entirely effaced every
resemblance to the plain and homely-dressed lad who, six years since,
had left his home to seek his fortune among strangers. He was now
well-dressed; and had the ease of manner which is acquired only by
mingling in society. He had grown in stature also, and was now a tall
and slender man; his fresh, healthy countenance had grown pale. He wore
his hair long, after the fashion of the South; his eye alone retained
its naturally soft and expressive cast, although its brightness was
dimmed, and seemed to indicate a want of energy in the physical frame.
His own mother could scarcely have found a likeness to his former self;
his very voice sympathized with the apparent languor of his frame, and
had nothing in it that would recall the lively tone of boyhood.
'It cannot be!' said Mrs. Rutherford, who now approached and took his
hand. 'Not William Andrews! Time has indeed made a change--but we are
glad, heartily glad to see you.'
'It is not time alone, madam, that has made a change in my appearance,
I suspect. I have been, you know, in a southern climate, and that takes
severe hold sometimes of us northern men; but I am very happy again to
see you, very happy indeed.'
Without the least reference by either party to the great change which
had occurred in circumstances, some little time was spent in a general
interchange of question and answer about persons and things; when Mrs.
Rutherford left the room, perhaps from feelings of delicacy to her
husband, who might not wish to refer in her presence to his own peculiar
situation.
'You find, Mr. Andrews, that there have been changes here too, which
perhaps must astonish you.'
'I have heard of them, sir, a few miles from hence, and have urged on my
journey further than I should have done. I need not say to you, sir,
that to me it is the most painful event I have yet met with in life. Is
it true, my dear sir? Are you as much reduced as report affirms and
appearance indicate.'
'I am as low down, so far as property is concerned, as I can be; there
is absolutely nothing left.'
And then, with much composure, Mr. Rutherford unfolded the complicated
maze in which he had struggled for some time, and the closing of the
scene in the last fatal blow. Although apparently unmoved himself, not
so was he who listened to the tale of suffering. The southern clime had
marred William's beauty, but it had only added to the warmth of his
heart. For some time after Mr. Rutherford had done speaking, he sat
wrapt in silent thought; his emotion too strong to dare trust the
utterance of a single expression. At length he rose, and taking the hand
of his friend--
'Mr. Rutherford, the ways of the Almighty are mysterious, but they must
be right. When a lone wanderer, you took me by the hand; you gave me
counsel, you assisted me with means, you introduced me to influential
friends; you made my heart glad then, and gave me an impetus which has
led me on to success beyond my expectations. The money I have returned
to you, but the debt of gratitude for your kindness to me in that hour
will remain an uncancelled obligation while I live. And now, sir, you
must take this trifle from me--I demand the right of a debtor to your
bounty--take it, and keep it for your present need; it must not, it
shall not be that either you or your angel wife know the pinchings of
want.'
His voice trembled so violently, that he could scarcely utter the few
last words; nor could Mr. Rutherford respond to this warm burst of
sympathy; it had gone directly to his heart, and caused a flow of
feeling that could find no vent in words.
'I must leave you for the night. God willing, I shall see you on the
morrow, and tell you all my story. You then will see that I do not rob
myself, and we will devise some other plan together.'
Mr. Rutherford shook his hand with a silent grasp, but it told the young
man that his offering of love and gratitude had done its work. Leaving
his best respects for Mrs. Rutherford, William departed.
As Mrs. Rutherford entered the room, after their guest had gone, she
found her husband seated by the stand, and looking at something which he
had spread out upon the table.
'See here, Mary.'
She stepped up to him, and putting her arm around his neck, stooped over
beside him.
'My dear husband! what does this mean? Five hundred dollars!' and she
looked at him in amazement.
'Yes, my love; it is five hundred dollars given us by that young man
whom a few years since we befriended: this is the way, my dear, that God
gives back the bread cast upon the waters.'
'Oh, my dear George!' and she threw herself upon his bosom, 'how glad I
am for you; you feel that you have one friend now, don't you?'
'Yes, Mary; and you cannot think how my heart leaps at the thought; one
sympathising friend in an hour like this, is indeed "cold water to a
thirsty soul"; but oh! that better Friend above, shall we ever forget
him, Mary? How good! how true! how wise! how unfailing! if we will only
trust in Him.'
They said no more: silently they sank together on their knees, and
poured out the fulness of their hearts to that Friend--that better
Friend above.
In the hour of our deep distress, when the dark clouds are around and
above us, the soul is prone to feel that the darkness which oppresses it
is the frown of God: we forget that love may be concealed, not turned
away.
To Mr. Rutherford's heart this mercy-drop came; a delightful assurance
that he was not forsaken, and that still the arm of sovereign love was
stretched out over him.
William Andrews had not been, for the few past years, engaged in the
active whirl of business to no purpose: he had amassed a few thousands
by a happy venture, and his success had been beyond his most sanguine
expectations. But this was not all; he had learned to grapple with
difficulties, and by energy and determination to accomplish results
which the irresolute and fearful could only dream of. He called the next
morning, and in a private interview with Mr. Rutherford procured from
him a particular statement of his affairs.
In a few days he called again; and there seemed to be a cheerfulness in
his air which he had not before manifested.
'I have been looking over your matters a little, my dear sir, and I
cannot think they are in such a hopeless case as you imagine. Your
property is indeed all attached, and if sold under the present state of
things would, to be sure, be dreadfully sacrificed, and might not bring
more than the claims upon it: you certainly value your estate beyond the
amount for which it is holden.'
'Most certainly; but by our laws an immediate sale can be forced; and in
that case, the whole will scarcely meet the demand.'
'You must apply then to some friend who will assume your debts'--Mr.
Rutherford shook his head--'and who will take your property into his
hands, until better times come round.'
'I have no friends, Mr. Andrews.'
'We once thought,' said Mrs. Rutherford, who was listening with much
interest, 'that we had quite a number; but friends do not always stand
the test of such a fall as ours has been.'
'But they could not possibly lose any thing, Mrs. Rutherford.'
'Perhaps they might not; still, you know, it is a delicate matter to ask
the favor, when not one of all who have been with us in our prosperous
days has seen fit to come near us now. My dear husband, until you so
generously had poured out your kindness, felt that he was alone in the
world.'
For some time each sat musing in silence over the uncertainty of human
fortunes and earthly friendships, when Mr. Andrews drew up to the table,
and requesting the attention of Mr. Rutherford a moment, began to spread
before him certain documents.
'Please to examine these, sir, and say whether they are correct.'
'These are my obligations, Mr. Andrews--I gave them in good faith; and
although I cannot meet them now, will own them to the last farthing.'
Mr. Rutherford looked with much astonishment, for he perceived that all
the responsibilities he was involved in were lying before him.
'Are there any more that you can think of, Mr. Rutherford?'
'There are no more.'
'Then, sir, you may take them and do what you please with them: all I
ask of you is, to give me a claim upon your property for this amount,'
naming not more than two-thirds the value of the notes. 'The interest of
that I am sure you can pay, and your property is once more your own.'
William was well aware that promptness in such matters was of the first
moment. He had at once liquidated every claim at a rate which each one
was glad to accept, and thus materially reduced the whole amount: this
he could be well secured for; the property of his benefactor need not be
sacrificed, and his heart was at rest.
Blessings on you, William Andrews! Your frame is slender, and seems to
be nurturing some hidden plague that may ere long make it a prey to the
worm; but it is the abode of a generous spirit. How its quickened pulses
beat with the ecstatic happiness which now plays within! Your eye is on
that noble pair; and the overpowering emotion which is thrilling their
bosom at this new and unexpected deed of love, is the richest feast you
ever tasted. Oh how they will bless you as the years roll by, when in
their happy home and on their own paternal soil they tread in freedom,
and think of him whose generous friendship snatched them from the brink
of ruin, and placed them there! Oh ye lovers of this world's treasures,
did you but know the secret charm these treasures can unfold! Go, dry
the widow's tears; go, aid the orphan's helpless steps; go, prop the man
of pure and noble soul, bowing beneath the weight of penury's heavy
load--and you will feel there is a talisman of untold value in your
hoards of gold and silver which you never dreamed of.
Mr. Rutherford had no idea of taking advantage of the arrangement
Andrews had made, and insisted upon giving a claim for the full amount;
but this William would not allow. He had made a fair bargain with the
creditors, and would not permit Mr. Rutherford to bind himself further
than the amount he had paid.
'You can, my dear sir, as you are able, make good to each one what he
has willingly relinquished.'
'And, God permitting. I will do it to the full amount.'