UNCLE OBED
Mr. Presby called Bertha at an early hour on the following morning, for
the carriage had been engaged for her at seven o’clock. She had slept
but little during the night, for the terrible condition of her brother
haunted her thoughts when awake, and her dreams when she slept. She was
driven to the station house, where Richard had slept off the fumes of
the intoxicating cup.
He was glad to see her, but he was very much depressed in spirits, and
heartily ashamed of his conduct. He was more reasonable and penitent
than she had ever seen him before. He told her that the yacht had come
from Newport the day before, and that he had been discharged, because
they no longer wanted him. He had taken a room at a hotel, but he had
only two dollars left of the money he had brought from Woodville,
increased by a few dollars he had earned. He acknowledged that he
had been intoxicated twice while at Newport, and when he came to New
York he felt sad at the thought of having no home; and he had drunk
some wine to cheer him up, and make him forget that his father was in
prison, and the family scattered.
“Bertha, I never will taste any wine or liquor again as long as I
live,” said he, with solemn earnestness, when he had finished his
narrative.
“I hope you never will, Richard. My heart is nearly broken now,” added
Bertha, wiping away her tears; “but if you will be good and true, I
shall be happy again. Oh, you don’t know how much I have thought of
you!”
“Come, Berty, don’t cry. I have been selfish, but I will stand by you
to the last. I will do anything you wish.”
Bertha was very much comforted by Richard’s promises of amendment, for
she felt that he meant them, and she prayed that he might have the
firmness to keep them. She then told him what had happened during their
separation; of the sale of Woodville, and the return of Uncle Obed, and
that she was going to their old home with Mr. Presby.
This conversation took place in the carriage, and on the sidewalk
in front of Mr. Presby’s house. For some time, Richard could not be
persuaded to visit his sister’s employer; but he at last consented. The
old gentleman did not allude to the events of the preceding evening,
but talked about his plans in connection with Woodville. He insisted
that Richard should go with them, and occupy his old room; indeed, he
said he wanted him very much to assist him in finding the housekeeper,
the boatman, and the servants, for he intended to restore everything to
the condition in which Mr. Grant had left it.
Richard gladly consented to remain and assist him in moving his books,
papers, and other articles, which were to be conveyed to Woodville.
His wonted spirits seemed to return when his mind was occupied, and
before breakfast was over Mr. Presby and Richard were excellent friends.
The forenoon was occupied in packing up the books and papers, which
were sent off early in the afternoon, under the care of Richard, who
had instructions to find the old servants and send them back to their
accustomed places.
At one o’clock, when the Philadelphia train had arrived, Bertha
repaired to the Astor House, to ascertain if Uncle Obed had returned,
leaving Mr. Presby with his son and daughter. The latter were
astonished and alarmed at the firmness of their father, and the events
of years were rehearsed and commented upon. They promised to let him
have his own way in all things if he would remain, and were even
willing to discharge John. They asked him what the world would say;
but he was silent. They proposed to go with him to Woodville; but he
declined. He had gone too far to recede. Mr. Presby told them what he
had suffered, but he spoke kindly, and hoped they would visit him in
his new home.
Bertha was rejoiced to find that Uncle Obed was in the house, and she
was shown to his room. She had never seen him before they met in the
office of her father, but the picture of him that hung in the drawing
room at Woodville was so true that his countenance seemed familiar to
her.
“My dear uncle!” exclaimed she, as she rushed forward to grasp his
extended hand.
“Then this is Bertha,” replied Uncle Obed, kissing her.
“I am so glad to see you!”
“And I am as glad to see you; for when I heard what had happened, I was
very much alarmed about you.”
Of course the conversation immediately turned to the situation of her
father. Bertha told him what had occurred from the time of her father’s
arrest. Uncle Obed was sad and thoughtful. He was perplexed and
disappointed. He felt a strong desire to do something which he could
not accomplish.
“Mr. Sherwood told me you had gone to Philadelphia to obtain the money
which would save my poor father from ruin,” said Bertha.
“I did go, but my friend was not at home, and will not return for a
week. Bertha, I am sorely tried; I don’t see that I can do anything for
your father at present. I cannot raise the money.”
“I hoped you would be able to save my poor father.”
“I have done everything I could; but I am a stranger here now. Fifty
thousand dollars is an immense sum of money.”
“Perhaps I can raise it, Uncle Obed,” said Bertha, musing.
“You, child? Of course you cannot.”
“I can try.”
Uncle Obed laughed at the assurance of Bertha, and did not bestow a
second thought upon the absurd proposition.
“I must go to Woodville with Mr. Presby this afternoon,” said she, “and
I must leave you now, uncle.”
“I am sorry Woodville was sold, for I meant to buy it myself when my
funds arrive. I intended to have seen Mr. Grayle yesterday. I suppose
it is of no use to regret it, though. When shall I see you again,
Bertha?”
“I shall probably come to the city to-morrow with Mr. Presby.”
Bertha hastened back to the house of Mr. Presby, where he was to wait
her return.
“Did you see your uncle?” asked he.
“Yes, sir.”
“You told me he would release your father.”
“Yes, sir; but he cannot,” replied Bertha, bursting into tears.
“Poor child! Why not?”
“Mr. Grayle put my father in prison, and keeps him there.”
“I will see Grayle before I go to Woodville,” said the old gentleman,
jumping out of his chair.
“But that would not be enough,” added Bertha.
“What more, child?”
“My uncle has been trying to raise a large sum of money to satisfy the
creditors who persecute my father.”
“How much money?”
“Fifty thousand dollars,” replied Bertha, drawing a very long breath.
“Fifty thousand!” exclaimed Mr. Presby.
“My uncle will be responsible for it; he is a rich man, but all his
wealth is in England.”
“You shall have the money, my child,” said Mr. Presby, after a few
moments’ consideration.
“May Heaven bless you as you have blessed me!” exclaimed Bertha,
clasping his hands and kissing his forehead.
“I will go down now and see Grayle; then I will meet you at the Astor
House. It will be late when we get to Woodville to-night, but your
father shall go with us, Bertha,” said the old gentleman, as he put on
his hat and took his cane. “Come, child; we will lose no time.”
“Oh, sir, I am so happy!”
“I didn’t understand before that Grayle caused your father to be
imprisoned. If I had, I would have seen him before.”
Bertha hastened back to the Astor House, while Mr. Presby took a
carriage and drove to the office of Grayle.
“Oh, Uncle Obed!” cried Bertha, as she rushed into his room, out of
breath with the exertion of running upstairs.
“What now, Bertha?”
“I have got the money!”
“What! Impossible!”
“I have; Mr. Presby will let you have it, and father will be set at
liberty to-night!”
Uncle Obed was incredulous, and seemed to be of John’s opinion, that
Mr. Presby was crazy. He absolutely refused to believe the good news,
and the nonappearance of Mr. Presby seemed to justify his want of
faith. It was three hours before the old gentleman came, and Bertha
began to fear that her enthusiasm had deceived her. But he came at
last, and the two gentlemen were introduced to each other.
Mr. Presby opened the business of the meeting by saying what a good
girl Bertha was; that, though he had known her only two days, he
loved her as his own child. He then inquired particularly into Uncle
Obed’s business affairs, and having satisfied himself in regard to his
financial soundness, he produced checks for fifty thousand dollars.
“Business men would call me a fool or a lunatic, after what I have
done; but if I knew I should lose every dollar I have advanced, I
should do just as I have done,” said Mr. Presby, placing Uncle Obed’s
notes in his pocket-book.
“You shall not lose a penny of it, Mr. Presby,” said Uncle Obed. “I can
pay these notes three times over.”
“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Grant. Now, if the business is finished, we will
call in somebody else,” added Mr. Presby, as he rang the bell.
He whispered something very mysteriously to the bell boy who answered
the summons and then continued the conversation with Uncle Obed.
“I have purchased your brother’s estate--Woodville; but whenever he
wants it again, he shall have it,” said he. “I must be in sight of
Bertha; and I suppose I can buy a piece of land and build a cottage
upon it.”
“Nay, sir, you shall always have a home at Woodville. I can promise
that for my brother,” replied Uncle Obed.
“Oh, yes!” said Bertha. “I should be so happy to have you at our house!”
“Brace Brothers will certainly pay all they owe. I fully understand
the cause of their suspension. When your father gets out of this
difficulty, he will be as well off as ever he was,” added Uncle Obed.
At this moment the door was thrown open by the waiter. A joyful cry
from Bertha revealed the nature of Mr. Presby’s mysterious proceedings
with the bell boy.
“My father! My father!” exclaimed Bertha, as she rushed into his arms,
and kissed him over and over again.
“My dear child!” said Mr. Grant, as he pressed the overjoyed daughter
to his heart, while the great tears rolled down his thin, pale cheek.
Bertha felt that her mission was accomplished--at least her present and
most urgent one. Tenderly caressing her father, she told him how kind
Mr. Presby had been to her.
“This is all Bertha’s work, Franklin,” said Uncle Obed. “She raised the
money, and procured your release.”
“No, father; it was Mr. Presby.”
“For your sake I did it, my child,” added Mr. Presby. “But come; we are
all going to Woodville to-night.”
The next train bore the whole party from the city. On the way all the
incidents connected with the release of Mr. Grant were rehearsed. At
first Grayle would not consent to it; but Mr. Presby had compelled him
to do so by threats which he had the power to carry out, for the wretch
owed him large sums of money. Mr. Presby had become his bail till the
action could be disposed of; but Grayle admitted that the charge of
fraud couldn’t be proved. He declared that the affair would ruin him
when Mr. Grant was released.
It was dark when the party arrived at Woodville; but the house was
lighted up, and they were greeted by the housekeeper and the old
boatman, whom Richard had summoned back to the mansion. Noddy Newman
turned half a dozen back somersets on the lawn when he saw Bertha
running up the walk. Several of the servants were in their places, and
dinner was on the table, just as though no break had occurred in the
household arrangements. Ben was sent after Fanny, and that evening the
family were reunited in the sitting-room.