THE LAST OF A LOVE-CHASE.
“How easy it seems for noble souls to be noble!” thought I, as I
followed Padiham up the neat staircase of his House of Charity. “What a
beautiful vengeance it is of this man upon nature for blighting him! A
meaner being would be soured, and turn cynic, and perhaps chuckle that
others were equalized with him by suffering. He simply, and as if it
were a matter of course, gives himself to baffling sorrow and blight.
It is Godlike.” And I looked with renewed admiration at the strange
figure climbing the stairs before me.
He was all head and shoulders, and his motions were like a clumsy
child’s. I went slowly after him. Was it true that this long
love-chase over land and sea was at its ending? Joy is always a giant
surprise,--success a disappointment among the appointed failures. Was
this grim dwarf to be a conjurer of happiness?
Padiham tapped at a door in the upper story.
A voice said, “Come in.”
Her voice! That sweet, sad voice! That unmurmuring, unrebellious voice!
That voice of gentle defiance, speaking a soul impregnable! How full of
calm hopefulness! while yet I could detect in it the power of bursting
into all the horror of that dread scream that had come through the
stillness to our camp at Fort Bridger.
The dwarf opened the door quietly.
The sunshine of that fresh June morning lay bright upon the roses in
the window. My glance perceived the old blue-gray infantry surtout
hanging in a corner. Mr. Clitheroe was sitting up in bed, lifting a
tea-cup with his left hand. His long white beard drifted over the cool
bedclothes. An appetizing breakfast, neatly served, was upon a table
beside him. And there in this safe haven, hovering about him tenderly
as ever in the days of his errant voyaging in the hapless time gone by,
was his ministering angel, that dear daughter, the sister of my choice.
She turned as we entered.
The old steady, faithful look in the gray eyes. The same pale, saddened
beauty. The unblenching gaze of patient waiting.
She looked at me vaguely, while life paused one pulse. Then, as I
stepped forward, the eloquent blood gushed into her face,--for she
knew that the friend could not long outrun the lover. She sprang into
my arms. Forgive me, John Brent, if I did put my lips close to her
burning cheek. It was only to whisper, “He is in London, searching for
you. He has never rested one moment since you were lost to us. In an
hour he will be here.”
“Dear father,” she said, drawing herself away, and smiling all aglow,
while tears proclaimed a joy too deep for any surface smile to speak,
“this is our dear friend, my preserver, Mr. Wade.”
Mr. Clitheroe studied me with a bewildered look, as I have seen an old
hulk of a mariner peer anxiously into a driving sea-fog from the shore,
while he talked of shipmates shaken from the yard, or of brave ships
that sunk in unknown seas. Then the mist slowly cleared away from the
old gentleman’s dim eyes, and he saw me in the scenery of my acting
with him.
“Ah yes!” he said, in a mild, dreamy voice, “I see it all. Sizzum’s
train, Fort Bridger, the Ball, the man with a bloody blanket on his
head, you and your friend galloping off over the prairie,--I see it
all.”
He paused, and seemed to review all that wild error of his into the
wilderness.
“Yes, I see it all,” he continued. “My dear Mr. Wade, I remember you
with unspeakable gratitude. You and your friend saved me this dearest
daughter. I have suffered wearing distress since then, and you must
pardon me for forgetting you one instant. Excuse my left hand! Dwarf
George is a capital machinist, but he says he cannot put new springs
into my right. That is nothing, my dear Mr. Wade, that is nothing. God
has given me peace of mind at last, my dear daughter has forgiven me
all my old follies, and my stanch old mate will never let me want a
roof over my head, or a crust of his bread and a sup of his can.”
* * * * *
There is a Hansom cab-horse, now or late of London, who must remember
me with asperity.
But then there is a cabman who is my friend for life, if a giant fare
can win a cabman’s heart.
By the side of the remembrance of my gallop down Luggernel Alley,
I have a picture in my mind of myself, in a cab, cutting furiously
through the cañons of London in chase of a lover. The wolves and
cayotes of the by-streets--there are no antelopes in London--did not
attempt to follow our headlong speed. We rattled across Westminster
Bridge, up Whitehall, and so into May Fair to Lady Biddulph’s door.
The footman--why did he grin when he saw me?--recognized me as the
family friend of yesterday, and ushered me without ceremony into the
breakfast-room, where the family were all assembled.
Why did the footman grin? I perceived, as I entered. A mirror fronted
me. My face was like a Sioux’s in his war-paint. There had been flies
in Padiham’s shop, and I had brushed them away from my face, alas! with
hands blackened over the lathe.
All looked up amazed at this truculent intruder. It was,--
“_Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn._”
“Forbear, and eat no more!”
An injunction not necessary for poor Brent, who sat dreary and listless.
The rest forbore at my apparition. Egg-spoon paused at egg’s mouth.
Sugar sank to the floor of coffee-cup. Toast silenced its crackle.
Brent recognized me in the grimy pirate before him.
He sprang to his feet. “You have found her!” cried he.
“Yes.”
He looked at me eagerly.
“Well and happy,” I said; “in a safe haven with a faithful friend. Lady
Biddulph will pardon me, bringing such tidings, for rushing in in my
war-paint, American fashion.”
“You are always welcome, Mr. Wade, in what costume you please,” said
she. “Doubly so with this happy news. My dear Ellen! I must see her at
once,--as soon as closer friends have had their hour. But, Mr. Brent,
you are not going without your breakfast!”
Everybody smiled.
“Come! Come!” cried Brent.
“Come!” and as we hurried away, there was again the same light in his
eye,--the same life and ardor in his whole being, as when, in that wild
Love-Chase on the Plains, we galloped side by side.
THE END.
Transcriber’s Note:
Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation
in the text. These have been left unchanged. Jargon, dialect, obsolete
and alternative spellings were left unchanged. Three misspelled words
were corrected.
Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like
this_. Obvious printing errors, such as backwards, upside down, or
partially printed letters and punctuation, were corrected. Final stops
missing at the end of sentences and abbreviations were added. Duplicate
words at line endings or page breaks were removed.