THE ELDER BROTHER AND MRS. HALSEY'S STRANGE STORY.
[Illustration: {Drawing of child sleeping in bed.}]
Notwithstanding Winnie's protestations to the contrary, I insisted on
going with her the next morning when she went to make her confession.
The little alarm-clock made its usual racket, but Winnie slept
peacefully, and I was dressed before I could make up my mind to waken
her. But I knew how disappointed she would be if she could not make her
call on Miss Prillwitz before breakfast, and I wakened her with a kiss,
and made her a cup of coffee over the gas while she was dressing. Then
we put on our ulsters and hoods, and slipped out of the house just as
the rising-bell was ringing.
We knew that Miss Prillwitz was habitually an early riser, or we would
not have planned to call at such an hour, but we were surprised to find
a cab standing before her door.
"I wonder whether the prince and Jim are just about to leave," Winnie
exclaimed. "I did not know that any of the ocean steamers sailed so
early in the morning. What if they have gone and we are too late!"
Something was the matter with the door-bell, and just as we were about
to knock, the door opened and a stout gentleman came down the steps, and
drove away in the carriage. Jim was not with him, and Miss Prillwitz
stood inside the door.
Winnie caught her arm and asked, "Was that the prince, the elder
brother?"
"No, tear," said Miss Prillwitz, gravely. "Why haf you come, when I
write you you must not?"
"Oh Miss Prillwitz, it was because I have something so particular, so
important, to tell you. Do not tell me that Jim has gone, and that it is
too late!"
"No, tear, Giacomo haf not gone already. I think ze elder brother take
him very soon, and we keep our little Giacomo not one leetle longer. Go
in ze park by ze bench and I vill come and talk zare wiz you."
We wondered at her unwillingness to let us in, but obeyed her
directions, and presently she came out to us with a shawl thrown about
her and a knitted boa outside her cap. Even then she did not sit near
us, but on a bench at a little distance, having first noted carefully
that the wind blew from our direction toward her. All this might have
seemed strange to us had we not been so thoroughly absorbed in what
Winnie was about to say. The poor child blundered into her story at
once, and told it in such broken fashion that Miss Prillwitz never could
have understood it but for my explanations. When we had finished, the
tears stood in Miss Prillwitz's eyes.
"My tear child," she said, kindly, drawing nearer to us, "how you haf
suffer! Yes, you have done a sin, but you are sorry, and God he forgive
ze sorrowful."
"But do you forgive me, Miss Prillwitz?" Winnie cried, passionately.
"Can you ever love me again?"
"Yes, my tear, I forgive you freely, and I love you more as ever."
"And the elder brother and Jim? Have Jim's expectations been raised?
Will he be greatly disappointed, and will the prince be very angry?"
"My tear, in all zis it is not as you have t'inked. See, you haf not
understand my way of talk. I t'ink Giacomo will, all ze same, pretty
soon go to his Fazzer's house. Ze elder brother is may be gone wiz him
by now. You have not, then, understand zat dis elder brother is ze Lord
Christ? zat ze beautiful country is Heaven? Our little Giacomo lie very
sick. Ze doctor, whom justly you did meet, he gif no hope. His poor
muzzer sit by him so sad, so sad, it tear my heart. She cannot see he go
to ze palace to be one Prince del Paradiso."
We sat bolt upright, dazed and stunned by this astounding information.
"Do you mean to say," Winnie said, slowly, grasping her head as though
laboring to concentrate her ideas, "that Jim is dying, and that he is no
more a prince than any of us? I mean that the other boy is not a real
prince, and that no child ever strayed away from its father's house, or
elder brother has been seeking for a lost one? Oh Miss Prillwitz, how
could you make up such a story?"
"My tear, my tear, it is all true, and I t'ought you to understand my
leetle vay of talk. Giacomo is a prince in disguise; you, my tears, are
daughters of ze great King. Zat uzzer boy, ze butcher, he also inherit
ze same heavenly palace. All ze children what come in zis world haf
wander avay from zat home, and ze elder brother he go up and down
looking for ze lost. He gif me commission; he gif effery Christians
commission to find zose lost prince--to teach him and fit him for his
high position. I did not have intention to deceive you, my tear. It was
my little vay of talk."
"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Winnie, "I feel as if my brain were turning a
somersault, but I cannot realize it. Then I did not really deceive you,
after all, Miss Prillwitz, though I was just as wicked in intending to
do so. And Jim--do not say there is no hope!"
"No, my tear. I know all ze time zis was not ze boy I expect. But I say
to myself, 'How he come I know not, but he is also ze child of ze
King.' Ze elder brother want him to be care for also. May be ze elder
brother send him, and I take him very gladly. And surely, I never find
one child to prove his title to be one Prince of Paradise better as
Giacomo. So gentle, so loving, so generous and soughtful. I not wonder
at all ze elder brother want him. I sank him, I sank you, too, Winnie, I
have privilege to know one such lovely character."
Miss Prillwitz looked at her watch. "I can no longer," she said quickly,
and hurried back to her home. We crossed the park thoughtfully and
entered the school. There was just time to tell the girls the news
before chapel. The knowledge that dear Jim was lying at death's door
overwhelmed every other consideration, and yet we talked over Miss
Prillwitz's little allegory also.
"We were stupid not to see through it at first," said Adelaide. "She is
just the woman to create an ideal world for herself and to live in it. I
have no grudge against her because we misunderstood her meaning, and yet
there certainly is something very fine in Jim's nature."
"Now I think it all over," said Emma Jane, "she has said nothing which
was not true."
"I understand her letter better now," I said. "We have all been parts of
a beautiful parable, and we have been as thickheaded as the disciples
were when Jesus said, 'O fools, and slow of heart to believe.'"
Milly was silently weeping. "All the beauty of the idea doesn't change
the fact that Jim is dying," she said.
"I have never loved any one so since I lost my mother and my baby
brother," said Adelaide. "I can't remember how he looked--it was ten
years ago, and I have no photographs, only this cameo pin, which father
bought because it reminded him of mother. Not the face either, only the
turn of the neck. He said she had a beautiful neck--and as he came home
from his business at night he always saw her sitting in her little
sewing-chair by the window looking every now and then over her shoulder
for him with her neck turned so, and her profile clear cut against the
dark of the room like the two colors of agate in this cameo."
It is not natural for girls to talk freely on what stirs them most
deeply, and little more was said on the subject that morning, but we
each thought a great deal, and if our hearts could have been laid bare
to each other, we would have been startled by the similarity of the
trains of thought which this event had roused. All through the morning's
lessons our imaginations wandered to the house across the park, and we
wondered whether all was indeed over, and dear, cheery, helpful Jim had
gone. We did not remember that we had declared we would gladly let him
go to an earthly princedom, and yet this was far better for him. Our
imaginations saw only the white upturned face upon the pillow, the
grief-stricken mother, and Miss Prillwitz flitting about drawing the
sheet straight, and placing white lilacs in his hands.
Adelaide confessed to me, long after, that all of her worldly thoughts
in reference to visiting Jim some day came back to her in a strange,
sermonizing way. She said that in her secret heart she had rather
dreaded the visit because she knew so little of the etiquette of foreign
courts, and was afraid she might make some mistake. She had even studied
several books on the subject, and knew the sort of costume it was
necessary to wear in a royal presentation, just the length of the
train, the degree of decolletee, and the veil, and the feathers. The
thought came over her with great vividness that she had never studied
the etiquette of Heaven or attempted to provide herself with garments
fit for the presence of the King. Mrs. Hetterman had a habit of singing
quaint old hymns. There was one which we often heard echoing up from the
basement--
"At His right hand our eyes behold
The queen arrayed in purest gold;
The world admires her heavenly dress,
Her robe of joy and righteousness."
This scrap was borne in upon Adelaide's mind now. "A robe of joy and
righteousness," she thought to herself; "I wonder how it is made! it
surely must be becoming."
Then she thought again of her mingled motives, of how glad she had been
that she had befriended Jim because she could claim him as an
acquaintance as a prince, in that foreign country, and how she had
wished that she might entertain more traveling members of the nobility
in his country in order to have more acquaintances at court. "If the
poor are Christ's brothers and sisters," she said to herself, "I have
abundant opportunity to make many friendships which may be carried over
into that unknown country;" and a new purpose awoke in her heart, which
had for its spring not the most unselfish motives, but a strong one, and
destined to achieve good work, and to give place in time to higher aims.
Afternoon came, and no message had arrived from Jim. "Girls," said
Adelaide, as we sat in the Amen Corner, "if Jim dies, I propose that we
carry this sort of work on of fitting poor children for something
higher, and broaden it, as a memorial to him. I don't exactly see my way
yet, but we can do a good deal if we band together and try."
"Oh! don't talk about Jim's dying," said Milly, "we'll do it, anyway."
"I can't see why we don't hear from Miss Prillwitz," said Winnie,
impatiently. "It is recreation hour; let us go out into the park, and
perhaps she will see us and send us some word."
We walked around and around the paths which were in view from Miss
Prillwitz's windows. Presently we saw Mary Hetterman coming toward us
with a note in her hand.
"I know just what that note says," exclaimed Milly, sinking upon a
bench. "The little prince has gone to his estates."
"Hush!" exclaimed Adelaide. "See! is it a ghost?" We looked as she
pointed, and saw at Jim's window a perfect representation of Adelaide's
cameo. A white face against the dark interior. It vanished as she spoke,
leaving us all with a strange, eerie sensation, a feeling that this was
certainly an omen of Jim's death. But our premonitions, like so many
others, did not come true. The note was not for us. Mary Hetterman
passed us with a smile and a nod, and a moment later Miss Prillwitz
herself came out to us.
We knew by her face that she brought good news, but none of us spoke
until she answered our unuttered question.
"No, tears, Jim haf not gone. Ze prince haf been here, but I sink he not
take him zis time already. The doctor sink we keep him one leetle time
longer. I cannot stay. It is time I go give him his medicine, and let
loose ze nurse, for I care for him ze nights. Good-bye, my tears. Ah! I
am so happy zat ze little prince go not yet to his estates; so happy,
and yet so sleepy also." And we noticed for the first time the great
dark rings which want of sleep and anxiety had drawn around Miss
Prillwitz's eyes.
"Good-bye, princess," I cried; "surely no one deserves that title more
than you, for you have proved yourself a royal daughter of the King. We
have called you so a long time among ourselves--our Princess del
Paradiso."
She smiled, waved her hand, and vanished into the queer house which she
had made a palace.
It was some time before Adelaide could recover from the shock of the
apparition at the window, though we assured her that it was probably
only the trained nurse; and we afterward ascertained that it was in
reality Mrs. Halsey, who had come to the window for a moment to greet
the glad new day, and who was now as joyful as she had been despairing.
So much tension of feeling, so great extremes of joy and sorrow, had
affected her deeply, and she wept out her gratitude on Miss Prillwitz's
sympathizing heart. "You have been very good to him," Mrs. Halsey said,
with emotion. "Some time, when the past all comes back to me, as I am
sure it will some day, I may be able to return your kindness."
Mrs. Halsey had made several mysterious allusions to the past, and Miss
Prillwitz, who had a kindly way of gaining the confidence of everyone,
said sweetly, "Tell me about your early life, my tear."
"It is a strange story," Mrs. Halsey replied. "I had a happy childhood
and girlhood, and a happy married life up to the time that my dear
parents died, and even after that, for my husband was the best of men,
and I had a sweet little daughter. Their faces come back to me, waking
and sleeping, though I have lost them, I sometimes fear, forever."
"Did they die?" Miss Prillwitz asked.
"No, dear, I think not; but now comes the strange part of my story: I
remember a journey vaguely, and a steamer disaster, a night of horror
with fire and water, and then all is a frightful blank; a curtain of
blackness seems to have fallen on all my past life. I am told that I was
rescued from the burning of a Sound steamer, with my baby-boy in my
arms, and given shelter by some kindly farmer folk. I had received an
injury--a blow on the head--and had brain-fever, from which I recovered
in body, but with a disordered mind, my memory shattered; I could
remember faces, but not names. I could not tell the name of the town in
which I had lived, or my own name. I remained with the kind people who
first received me for several months, but I did not wish to be a burden
to them, and I hoped that I might find my home. I knew that it had been
in a city, and I felt sure that if I ever saw any of my old
surroundings, or old friends I would recognize them at once. It was
thought, too, that New York physicians might help me, so I came to New
York, and my case was advertised in the papers. But months had passed
since the accident, and my friends either did not see the advertisement,
or did not recognize me in the story given. The doctors at the hospital
pronounced me incurable, and I was discharged. I wandered up and down
the streets, but although I felt sure that I had been in New York
before, I could not find my home. I read the names on the signs, hoping
to recognize my own name, but I never came across it. Meantime I took
the name of Halsey; it was necessary for me to live, and I knew that I
could sew, and that I had a faculty for designing; and seeing Madame
Celeste's advertisement for a designer, I applied at once for the
situation. It seemed to me at first that I had seen Madame Celeste
before, but she was repellent in manner, and I did not dare question
her, and gradually that impression faded. I hired a woman to take care
of Jim, and though he was not well cared for, he lived, and we got on
until he was large enough to play upon the streets. Then I took him home
to the little room in Rickett's Court, and finding that I could not be
with him as much as he needed, I gave up my place at Madame Celeste's
and worked at first for the costumer, where the young ladies found me,
and afterward tried to keep soul and body together by taking sewing
home. It was the life of a galley-slave, but I did not care so long as I
could keep my boy at school, and with me out of school hours. But I
could not do that, for to earn the money which was absolutely necessary
for our support Jim had to work too, and driving the milkman's cart in
the early morning was the best we could find for him out of school
hours. He was so proud and happy to do it, and to help earn for us both;
but, as you know, it cut into his hours for sleep, and left him no time
to study. Oh! I was nearly in despair, when God sent you as angels to my
help and Jim's."
"And have you never been able to guess what your old name was?" Miss
Prillwitz asked.
"Never; sometimes it seems to me that I remember it in my dreams, but
when I awake it is gone; still, I cannot help feeling that I shall find
my own again. Sometimes there comes a great inward illumination, and the
curtain seems to be lifting. I cannot think they have forgotten me--my
husband tender and true, and my little girl with the great questioning
eyes."
Miss Prillwitz did not share Mrs. Halsey's confidence, but her sympathy
was enlisted, and she caressed and comforted Mrs. Halsey. "It shall be
as you hope, my tear; if not just now and here, zen surely by and by,
and zat is not very long. And meantime you have found some friends, ze
young ladies and me, and ze Elder Brother have found you, and we are all
one family, so you can be no longer lonely and wizout relation, even in
zis world."