JOY AT EVENTIDE
It was early that evening as Jess kissed her father and advised him to
go to sleep at once.
"You are tired, daddy, after the excitement of the day, so you need a
good long rest."
"I suppose I do," was the reply. "But it will be somewhat hard to get
to sleep after the events of the afternoon. Isn't it wonderful, Jess,
what a change has come over your mother? I never saw anything like it."
"A great burden has been lifted from her mind, that's the reason. And,
daddy, you forgive me for what I did?"
"Certainly, dear, certainly. But I am not your father any longer,
remember."
"Oh, yes you are," and the girl smiled. "Just behave as you have since
your accident, and I wouldn't change you for any man I know."
"Be careful, be careful what you say, Jess. I am not altogether blind
and deaf."
A rich flush overspread the girl's cheeks, and her eyes sparkled as she
turned them upon her father's face. She understood the meaning of his
words.
"I want you always as my father," she replied; "that is what I mean.
But, there, you cannot get to sleep if I stay here and chatter."
"Where are you going, Jess?"
"Over to see how Eben is getting along."
"That is good. And you will tell him what we were talking about this
afternoon, will you not? I hope he will agree to my plan."
"I believe he will, daddy, and I am so glad you are going to do
something for him. He is a fine boy, and we owe him much for what he
did at Island Lake."
Giving her father another kiss, Jess hurried downstairs and found John
waiting for her upon the verandah. It was a beautiful evening, calm
and mild. The western sky was aglow with the glory of departing day,
and the shades of night were slowly stealing over the land. The two
spoke but little as they walked, slowly across the field toward the
Tobin house. It was the first time they had been alone since they had
heard the wonderful news that afternoon under the apple tree. They
longed to speak about it, and yet a natural reserve restrained them.
They both felt that the time had now arrived when the great question
must be decided, and this thought affected their free and easy manner
of the past. But they were happy in each other's company, so words
were unnecessary.
They found Eben lying in an invalid's chair upon the verandah, with the
captain sitting by his side. He was still very weak, and the marks of
the burns were visible upon his face. He smiled as the visitors drew
near and sat down upon the steps. His old jealousy and animosity
toward John had disappeared.
"How are you feeling this evening?" Jess asked.
"Somewhat better, I guess," was the reply.
"He's a great deal better, Miss," the captain declared. "I'm merely
judgin' by the way he eats, fer that's allus a sure sign with Eben of
jist how he's feeling."
The captain was in excellent spirits, for his foot was almost well, and
he was hoping to be back upon the river in a few days. He was also
greatly pleased at what Eben had done at Island Lake, and the praise he
had received, especially in the newspapers. In fact, the latter were
almost worn out, so often had he read the articles, and shown them to
every person who came to the house.
"Yes," he continued, "Eben's appetite's all right, an' I expect it'll
be hard to keep him filled, when we git back on the boat."
"I don't want to go back on the boat," Eben replied. "I'm sick of it."
"Ye'll have to git over yer sickness, then," the captain reminded. "I
can't git along without ye, an' what is there fer ye to do if ye don't
go on the boat?"
"Oh, I'll find something, dad. I'm not worryin' about that now."
"How would you like to study civil engineering?" Jess asked.
Eben looked at her with surprise, wondering whether he had heard
aright. Then he smiled, somewhat wistfully.
"I mean it," Jess insisted. "Father is willing to send you to college,
and pay all your expenses. Isn't it great?"
"Great!" Eben fairly shouted the word, weak though he was. "Send me
to college to be a civil engineer! Say yer jist foolin', ain't ye?"
"Indeed I am not. Daddy is willing and ready to do all he can to help
you, so there."
"But what am I to do?" the captain demanded. "If Eben goes to college,
I'll be left alone on the 'Eb an' Flo.' Guess I might as well close up
bizness, too."
"Oh, daddy will make that all right, Captain. We talked it over this
afternoon, so if you agree to let Eben go to college, he will arrange
with you about the boat. Daddy is very much interested in the scheme."
"H'm, it seems to me he's changed a great deal since the night he was
here asking about you. He was like a roarin' lion then."
"He has changed, Captain, until I hardly know him. I believe it was
his narrow escape from death which did it. He is so gentle now, and a
real companion. I am so thankful! And you will agree to let Eben go,
won't you?"
"Guess we'll have to see Martha an' Flo, Miss. They'll have the most
to say. But mebbe they'll agree, fer they'd like to see the boy git
on."
"Where do I come in on this?" Eben unexpectedly asked. "I'm goin' to
college, no matter what anyone says. I'm old enough now to think fer
myself, an' I'm goin' to."
"Tut, tut, Eben," his father chided. "Ye needn't git on yer
high-horse. Sartinly yer goin' to college. Yer ma an' Flo'll agree.
I'll jist go after 'em. They're doin' the chores. We might as well
git this matter settled while you're here, Miss. It'll smooth things
somewhat to have you present. You kin explain to Martha better'n I
kin."
The captain stepped off the verandah, and limped around the corner of
the house in the direction of the barn. No sooner had he disappeared
than Eben leaned eagerly toward his visitors.
"Yell both forgive me, won't ye, fer throwin' that stone?" he whispered.
"At the quarry, you mean?" Jess asked.
"Yes, that, an' the stick on the shore. The devil got into me, I
guess."
"Certainly I forgive you, Eben, for what you did to me, and I know John
will do the same."
"Indeed I will," the latter agreed. "You have made up for all that
many times over. You risked your life for my mother and Miss Randall.
We can never repay you."
"I don't think I'd a done it but fer that stone, Miss. Ye see, I
couldn't git it out of my mind, so I wanted to make up in some way fer
the harm I did. That was my only chance."
"And were you really thinking of that when you came through the fire to
save us?" Jess asked in surprise.
"Yes, Miss, I was. I'm awful sorry fer what I did. I was a big fool,
all right."
Just then his father returned, so nothing more was said about the
matter.
"They won't come," the captain announced. "They say they're not
dressed to receive company, an' I guess they're right. Martha does
sartinly git on queer togs when she looks after the barn an' the
chickens. I wish to goodness, Miss, ye'd slip out an' surprise her.
It'd be a fine joke."
"Oh, that wouldn't be fair," Jess laughingly replied. "I wouldn't like
for anyone to do that to me. We can come again."
Having bidden the captain and his son good-night, the young couple
strolled down through the field toward the shore. The darkness had now
deepened, but before them flowed the river, touched with the last rich
rosy tints of the departed sun.
"Isn't it beautiful!" Jess exclaimed, as she stopped and looked out
upon the water. "This is a perfect ending of a perfect day."
"It has truly been a wonderful day," John replied, "but I am not sure
yet about the perfect ending. That remains to be seen."
"In what way, John? Could anything be more perfect than this?"
"Come, and I will explain," was all the young man said, as once more
they moved forward,
They passed along the path leading to Beech Cove, and when near the
shore, they sat down upon an old log which years before had been
stranded upon the beach.
"This is where Eben threw the stick," Jess remarked, as she looked
around. "He has changed a great deal since then. He was not one bit
jealous of you to-night."
John laughed as he nervously tore off a splinter from the log and broke
it into bits. "I had two rivals then, but now I have none. One has
repented of his own free will, while the other will trouble you no
longer. Are you glad?"
"I suppose I should be," the girl slowly replied.
"And it will not be necessary to run away from your father now, and
work for your own living," John continued. "So that matter is settled."
"But I have no father now," was the low response. "You have taken my
place, so if I don't work I shall have to depend upon my own mother for
a living, and I could not think of doing that."
"But you will have plenty, Jess. Your father, I mean my father. Dear
me, I am all mixed up. Suppose I say, 'Our father'? Anyway, he wants
me to go to the city, and help him in his business, which he says is
too much for him to manage alone. He told me this afternoon that he
would do what he could for the developing of the mine, and feels quite
sure that he will succeed. Now, if we change places everything will be
terribly mixed up. There is only one way out of it, Jess, and you know
what that is. You must be my wife. It is you I want more than
anything else in the world. I asked you once before, and you told me
to wait. But now I can wait no longer. Oh, Jess, tell me that you
love me, and will be my wife."
For a few seconds an intense silence reigned. Then the girl, her eyes
misty with tears, turned her face to her lover's, and laid her hand in
his.
"Take me, John," she simply said. "I am yours."
With his face radiant with joy, John enfolded her in his arms, and
pressed his lips to hers.
"I agree with you now," he whispered, "that this is a perfect ending of
a perfect day."
"And the beginning of many perfect days, let us hope," was the girl's
low, happy reply.
THE END