IN A SAFE HARBOR AT LAST
Hugh had finished breakfast on Sunday morning, and was out looking
after a few pets he had in the way of Belgian hares and homing
pigeons, when he heard his mother calling him.
"Coming, Mother!" he answered hack, thinking on the spur of the
moment he was needed to look after the furnace or steam boiler, from
which the hired girl did not always succeed in getting the best
results on particularly frosty mornings.
She waited for him just inside the door. Hugh saw immediately that
his first surmise was wrong, for there was a look on her face to tell
him it was no trivial matter she had to communicate.
"What is it, Mother?" he asked quickly.
"She is asking for you, Hugh," he was told.
Then he suddenly remembered about the young mother who had lain there
since Thursday evening, and out of her mind with fever.
"Oh! then the good old Doc was right!" Hugh exclaimed; "he said, you
know, that he felt sure she'd be in her right senses by Sunday
morning. You've been talking with her, have you, Mother?"
"Yes, and relieving her immediate curiosity and alarm," he was told.
"Naturally, she was full of wonder when she awoke to find herself in
a strange room, with no little Joey near by. She thought it was the
hospital, and that the cold had claimed him for a victim. But I soon
calmed her fears, and she knows now all about how she came here; and
also that her boy is still sleeping happily close by; for he is
taking a long nap this morning, after his dissipation of last night."
"But, you didn't say anything about the deacon and his dear old wife,
did you?" continued Hugh.
"Not a word, my son. I wished you to be the one to convey the glad
news to that poor young mother. She wanted to ask me further
questions, but I avoided committing myself. She did come from the
Far West, it appears. Her money ran out just too soon and they had
to leave the train at a station this side of Waldron Falls. She was
go determined to reach Scranton before night that she actually
started out afoot, it seems, despite the cold and the snow-covered
roads. Several kind-hearted men gave them lifts on the way; but it
was a long journey, and she became exhausted before reaching her
destination. But come with me, Hugh; she wishes to thank you face to
face."
Hugh did not like that part of it. As a rule, he ran away from such
scenes; but in this case he knew that would never do, since he wished
to learn further concerning Joey and his mother; and, besides, had
some pleasant information to tell her that must cheer her heart
amazingly, and also hasten her recovery.
So he followed his mother into the spare room where the young woman
lay. She had been propped up with extra pillows by Mrs. Morgan while
they talked, though kept well covered up. Indeed, the loving hands
of the older lady had succeeded in placing a warm, knitted sack upon
her arms and shoulders, Hugh saw.
She looked eagerly at the boy. Her face was not so feverish as
before; indeed, he could see without being a physician that the
patient was much better.
"And this is Hugh?" she said, in a voice that trembled. "Yes, I seem
to remember your face, and how you listened to me trying to tell you
how much I wanted to get to Scranton before I fell sick, for I could
feel it coming on. And your mother tells me you carried us both home
in your sleigh. It was a generous heart that could take an utter
stranger in, as you have done, and care for her as if she were your
own flesh and blood. Please let me thank you, Hugh, from the bottom
of my heart."
Hugh took the hand she extended; but he was careful not to give it
one of his customary vigorous squeezes; she looked so wan and frail
that he knew he must hold himself in check.
"Oh! it was a mighty little thing for anyone to do, Mrs. Walters," he
said, in some confusion, but speaking the name with a purpose in view.
"How did you know that was my name, Hugh?" she asked immediately.
"You mentioned it, my dear, in your delirium," explained Mrs. Morgan;
"and then, besides, Joey told us that much."
"And did I tell you anything more in my ravings?" she asked, looking
worried.
"Only something about a certain grandfather whom you seemed to think
might not receive you as you ardently hoped when you started forth on
this long journey," the older lady told her. "But then you did not
know what was in store for you. Sometimes great blessings, as well
as dire calamities, spring upon us without the least warning. Hugh,
I shall leave the telling to you from this point on."
The young mother looked from one face to the other.
"Oh! what is it?" she almost gasped. "You are keeping something from
me I ought to know. Please tell me, Hugh, I beg of you. If it is
good news I shall be so very grateful, for little Joey's sake mostly.
Everything I do, everything I think of, is in connection with my
darling child."
"Then I hope you will forgive me if I'm rushing things too fast!"
exclaimed the eager boy, unable to restrain his news longer; "but
little Joey spent two hours last evening asleep in the loving arms of
his great grandmother; while Deacon Winslow again and again embraced
both, and gave thanks for the great blessing that had come to his
fireside!"
How her eyes sparkled when she heard what he said. If Doctor Cadmus
had been in the room just then he might have cautioned them against
too much excitement, lest the fever return; but surely such glorious
news could not do harm, with her heart singing songs of thanksgiving.
"Oh! tell me all about this wonderful thing!" she cried; "how could
you guess my secret, if I did not betray it in my delirium? Now that
you have said this much I must know all about it. Please go on,
Hugh!"
He needed no such urging when the words were ready to fall in a
stream from his lips. So Hugh commenced, and rapidly sketched the
strange happenings of the preceding evening--how he had taken the
little fellow with him for a walk, and stopped at the smithy to see
the sparks flying upwards in showers; of the invitation to take
supper, and spend an hour in chatting with the deacon and his good
wife. Then, quick on the heels of this he told how Mrs. Winslow,
while holding Joey in her arms so lovingly as he slept in his
innocence, had suddenly made that amazing discovery in connection
with the baby chain, and smooth medallion, shaped like a locket.
She lay there with her eyes closed, eagerly drinking in every word
the boy uttered. The unrestrained tears crept unheeded down her
cheeks; but Mrs. Morgan did not worry, because only too well did she
know these were tears of overpowering joy; and not of grief.
Finally the story was all told, and she opened her eyes, swimming as
they were, to look fondly at each of them in turn.
"What happiness has come into my life!" she said, with a great sigh;
and, evidently, the load of years had rolled from her heart. "And
how grateful I must always be to the kind friends who have brought it
to me and mine. I can never do enough to show you how I appreciate
it all."
Then Hugh thought himself privileged to ask a few questions in turn,
wishing to thoroughly satisfy himself with regard to several points
that were as yet unexplained.
She told them how her husband had lost his life; and that, when she
and the boy faced poverty, the resolution had come to her to go East
and try to find the relatives whom she had only lately learned were
located somewhere near Scranton. She had come across an old and
time-stained diary kept by her mother's father, who, of course, was
the runaway son of Deacon Winslow; and thus she learned how he had
left his home in the heat of anger, and never once communicated with
his parents up to the time of his death, which occurred a short three
years after his marriage.
It was all very simple, and supplied the missing links in the chain.
After she had told them these things once more she asked Hugh about
the aged couple. That was a subject the boy could talk about most
enthusiastically for a whole hour, he was that full of it. And the
happy look on her face told how like balm to her heart his words came.
"And they are coming to see you early this morning," he finally
assured her. "I wouldn't be surprised if either of them has had a
single wink of sleep last night for counting the minutes creep by,
they are that anxious to claim you and Joey."
Just then the doorbell rang. Hugh laughed, as though he had been
expecting such a happening; in fact, he had heard the sound of sleigh
runners without creaking on the hard-frozen snow, and suspected what
it signified.
"There they are this minute!" he exclaimed; "shall I run down and let
them in, Mother? And ought they come right upstairs?"
"Have them take off their wraps first, and warm their hands at the
radiator," she wisely told him, thinking of the invalid who would
soon be in their embrace.
It was a very brief time before he ushered them into the room. First
the old lady was assisted across the floor, for she could hardly
walk, even when so determined to come over, and greet her
granddaughter. And when her arms were twined around the weak little
figure on the bed, and she pressed her to her matronly bosom, Joey's
mother broke down in hysterical sobs, and, in turn, twined her arms
about the neck of her newly found relative.
The old deacon looked radiant. He kissed her on the forehead, and
tried to say something appropriate, but was compelled to turn his
head aside and blow his nose vigorously, for his emotions overpowered
him.
Presently, however, they were able to talk rationally, and then it
was all settled how Joey and his mother were to live with the old
couple, and be their very own always. Everything was explained, and
Hugh finally found himself able to "break away," being consumed by a
desire to run across lots to Thad's house, and tell him the wonderful
story.
There is no need of accompanying Hugh on his errand, and seeing how
Thad took the amazing news. Of course, he was simply thunder-struck,
and delighted also beyond measure. He must have made Hugh tell the
full particulars as many as several times, for they were all of an
hour together. But then, Thad's folks had been called in, and told
how after all these years a descendant of Deacon Winslow had come
back to the old roof-tree, to make the happiness of the aged couple
complete.
Of course, the story was soon known all over Scranton, and everybody
rejoiced with the beloved old blacksmith who had so long been the
best friend of the boys of the neighborhood. But Hugh, who was
really the hero of the occasion, was congratulated by everybody for
being the means of re-uniting these lonely souls, and incidentally
providing Little Joey with a good home.