That afternoon, after three o'clock, when the afternoon newspapers were
out, he bought a paper and found that cotton and wheat had advanced
many points and that he now had a nice profit on the purchases made
that morning. Indeed, the gods of good fortune and finance were
smiling on Robert, but the Goddess of Love was frowning and he must
have patience. As the sun was slowly setting and the day was waning,
he watched in sadness because no news had come from Marie. He firmly
resolved that he would carry out his intention and place the personal
notice in the papers the following day for news of Marie, if something
did not come that evening.
Robert called Mr. Kennelworth on the 'phone in Texarkana and again
met with disappointment. Not a word had been heard from Marie and her
parents were now growing more anxious and feared that there had been
some accident or foul play in some way. They were making a search in
every direction; City and County officials had been notified and all
the schools thruout the country were on the lookout for Marie and
making every effort to obtain some information about her. Robert told
Mr. Kennel worth about his plan to insert the personal notice and Mr.
Kennelworth agreed with him. He thought it would be a good idea and
he believed that if she were secretly hiding somewhere, she would
surely see the papers because she herself would be anxious to know what
happened to Robert and what he was doing.
Robert arose early on Wednesday morning, June 8th, hastened to the
newspaper offices and placed the personal notices to appear the
following day. When he returned to his hotel, for the first time since
Sunday he thought of his birthday, June 9th, when he would be 21 years
of age. When he thought of this a great hope came into his mind. He
decided that Marie, for some unknown reason, was hiding until his
birthday and intended that they should be married on that day and she
was going to be his birthday present. Robert's imagination went wild.
He was elated over the hope. It seemed like a sudden inspiration to
him. It would be just like Marie to wait until his birthday to give him
the surprise of his life, and think this delay would only try his faith
and patience and she would know just how much she meant to him, but did
not think it too long to keep him waiting if he really loved her as he
said he did; that he would have patience and wait.
Robert was sure that his advertisements in the papers the following day
were going to bring results and that probably Marie, just as soon as
she saw it, would come to him. So he really began to plan and hope and
get ready for a marriage to take place on his birthday. He was so happy
over this sudden thought, so elated that he 'phoned Mr. Kennelworth
again that night and told him all about it. Mr. Kennelworth,
half-hearted but hopeful, agreed with Robert that there might be
something in it, that Marie might have had some plan of this kind in
mind, and sincerely hoped that Robert was right and that this birthday
would be the happiest of his life.
After Robert talked with Mr. Kennelworth, he immediately called Walter
Kennelworth on the 'phone in New York, told him all that had happened,
about his placing the personal notices in the papers, about his hopes
and theories that Marie would show up on his birthday. Walter said that
it would be just like her to do a trick of that kind and that this
might be just what it all meant. He thought that Robert had struck on
the right idea and was hopeful, too, that the marriage would take place
on Robert's birthday. He was to call Robert on the 'phone the next
day or Robert should call him just as soon as he got any news. Walter
wanted to send congratulations for his birthday and his wedding day.
The fact that Walter was so cheerful and shared Robert's views and
hopes in the matter, made Robert much happier.
After Robert had talked with Walter, the bellboy came and brought a
special-delivery letter and a telegram. Robert opened the telegram
hurriedly, hoping that it was something from Marie, but found it was a
telegram from his mother in which she congratulated him on his birthday
the following day, and encouraged him to hope for the best and not give
way to despair in case Marie did not show up. The special-delivery
letter was also from Robert's mother, and read:
My dear Son,
Your good friend, Mr. Kennelworth, has been out to see me and told all
that has happened. My son, I counsel you to have patience and faith.
Love endures much and is not discouraged. I believe everything happens
for the best, my boy, and it may be that Marie thought that you were
both too young to marry. If this was her view, I would say it would
hurt neither of you to wait a few years longer.
While I cannot understand the mysterious way in which Marie
disappeared, at the same time I hope, pray and believe that she is
alive and will come into your life again when you most need her and
are better prepared for her than you are now. I know that it will be
hard for you to see and realize that it might be for the best for her
to go out of your life at this time, but even Marie may be wiser than
we know. She may want to test your love and test her love for you. If
this is the case, it will all turn out for the best for both of you.
If your love is strong enough to endure it and wait a few months or a
few years, no harm can come later. If Marie can bear to be separated
from you and remain faithful and loyal to you for a few months or a
few years, then she will mean more to you when she comes back to you
again.
I pray for you each night and pray that everything may come out all
right. I still have great faith and confidence in you, my boy. Want
you to stick to your faith and your religion. Read the Holy Bible and
follow it as you have in the past and everything that the good God can
do will come to you in due time. Write me of your plans and what you
intend to do. Send me a telegram as soon as you have any news, one way
or the other. I anxiously await news of Marie and wish that I could be
with you to comfort you because I know you need me when you haven't
Marie.
Devotedly,
Your Mother.
Robert was happy to get the letter from his mother because she always
encouraged him and he knew that no matter what happened, her faith in
him would always remain the same and her love would endure forever.
He retired that night after having a light supper, very happy, looking
forward to his birthday with great hopes and expectations. His 21st
birthday meant a great deal to him, meant more than any other birthday
because he hoped that it would bring Marie. He knew that he had stood
the test of her absence and that he had unwavering faith, that the had
never doubted her motive, no matter even if he could not understand it,
and that he would not censure her actions. When Marie returned and was
once sure that she knew all this, he would mean more to her than he had
ever before and she would only love him the more. After all, perhaps
this little disappointment would mean something good in the future.
That night he read over all the poems that Marie had ever written him
or sent him, and read over the poems that he had written her, because
he had kept a copy of them. He read the poem where he wrote "If your
aim is high and honest, in victory it will tell; Before the pearl is
gotten, there must be a broken shell!" Again Robert realized that the
shell had been broken worse this time than ever before, or at least it
seemed that way to him. Yet at the same time it was not a break because
Marie had left him with love, and their last good-night kiss on the
train had been one of supreme faith and trusting love which had been
built up over a period of years in which there had been many obstacles
to overcome, hard struggles and disappointments. Robert prayed his
usual night prayer for the protection of Marie and went to sleep, to
dream of his birthday.
Robert Gordon's 21st Birthday
Robert arose early on June 9th. Hurried down to the desk to ascertain
if any telegrams had come over night or any 'phone calls, but found no
telegrams and no messages. It was yet too early for the morning mail.
Robert secured the morning papers and saw his personal notices which he
had instructed the papers to continue to run. He had added the name of
his hotel and telephone number so that Marie could reach him promptly.
Somehow he had a feeling that just about 11 or 12 o'clock that day
Marie would call at the hotel or he would have some good news from her.
After having his breakfast, he waited for the first mail, but there
were no letters for him and up to this time no telegrams had been
received. He decided to go down to a brokerage office and see how the
market opened. Cotton and wheat had advanced the day before and cotton
opened higher and was strong this morning, and wheat was also holding
up well. Robert found that Major Motors was selling around 203 and he
knew that his broker must have sold 500 shares short for him at this
price. He figured that Major Motors would not advance above 205-1/2
before it started on a big decline. So he said to himself, "This is
going to be a real happy birthday. I am making money fast now in wheat
and cotton and will soon be making money in stocks." Right Aeroplane
was also strong and his profits were piling up on this. He figured
up his profits on Cotton, Wheat and Stocks and on this birthday he
was worth $30,000. The money meant nothing to him. He would gladly
give every cent of it to have Marie as a birthday present. His hopes
remained high and somehow he felt that he would have Marie as well
as the financial success. Just as he was figuring up his profits and
thinking about it an old saying came to him: "Lucky at cards, unlucky
in love." He wondered if this could be, that he would be lucky in
making money in speculation and at the same time unlucky in his love
affairs; but hoped and prayed that this was the last disappointment in
his love affairs and that this birthday was to be the turning point and
that some news would come from Marie.
He decided to forget about the market as everything was moving along
his way and returned to the hotel to wait for news of Marie. He still
had a hope or an imagination that around 11 or 12 o'clock Marie would
either come to the hotel or some news from her would be received. Upon
returning to the hotel he found no mail and no telegrams or telephone
messages awaiting him. When 11 o'clock came Robert's mind reverted back
to Sunday when he was watching the clock in the Union Station, hoping
and waiting for Marie to appear. Robert became a little restless and
more than anxious as the minutes went by. The clock struck twelve on
his birthday and no Marie and no news from her. A few minutes after
12 his bell rang and a messenger boy appeared with a telegram. "Ah,"
Robert thought, "this is from Marie or some news from her." But it
was a telegram of congratulations from his old pal, Walter, who asked
that he convey the first news which he received in regard to Marie and
stated that he hoped before the day was over he could congratulate
Robert on his marriage to Marie. A little later in the day Robert
received a long telegram from Mr. Kennelworth, congratulating him on
his birthday and offering words of encouragement, also telling Robert
that he expected to leave Texarkana on Friday night, June 10th, and
arrive in St. Louis some time in the morning and that Robert should
be ready to start with him to New York, as he wanted to be there when
Lindbergh arrived. Robert received another telegram from his mother
congratulating him on his birthday and wishing him every success and
happiness.
These messages were very encouraging but it was now 2 o'clock and
Robert began to be keenly disappointed--he had raised his hopes so high
that Marie would appear or some news would come. He paced the floor in
anxiety, his heart beating rapidly and was forced to admit to himself
that he had been over hopeful. He started to send a telegram to Mr.
Kennelworth asking him to wire or 'phone just as soon as possible if
any news had been received of Marie and asked him to call up Marie's
parents and find out if they had heard anything. Minutes now began to
drag slowly, as they had on Sunday when Robert had watched the clock
and saw his hopes slowly waning. They were now waning again and Robert
grew heartsick, but cheered himself with the thought that the day was
not over yet. There was plenty of time for Marie to show up.
Robert decided to read awhile to quiet his anxiety. He picked up the
book of "Poems That Have Helped Me," and read the "Isle of Long Ago."
Oh, a wonderful stream is the River Time,
As it flows thru the realm of years,
With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme,
And a broader sweep and a surge sublime,
As it blends with the ocean of years.
How the winters are drifting, like flakes of snow,
And the summers like buds between;
And the years in the sheaf--so they come and they go
On the river's breast, with its ebb and flow,
As they glide in the shadow and sheen.
There's a magical Isle up the River Time,
Where the softest of airs are playing,
There's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime,
And a voice as sweet as a vesper chime,
And the Junes with the roses are staying.
And the name of this Isle is the Long Ago,
And we bury our treasures there;
There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow--
There are heaps of dust, but we love them so!
There are trinkets and tresses of hair.
There are fragments of songs that nobody sings,
And a part of an infant's prayer,
There's a harp unswept and a lute without strings,
There are broken vows and pieces of rings,
And the garments she used to wear.
There are hands that are waved when the fairy shore
By the mirage is lifted in air;
And we sometimes hear through the turbulent roar
Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before,
When the wind down the river is fair.
Oh, remembered for aye be the blessed Isle
All the day of our life till night,
And when evening comes with its beautiful smile,
And our eyes are closing in slumber awhile,
May that "Greenwood" of soul be in sight.
It made him realize that on the "river of time" there are many trials,
tribulations and disappointments. While he was young in years he had
experienced many of them, and it seemed to him that the last five days
had been five years. When he read the lines of the poem: "Sweet voices
we heard in the days gone before, when the wind down the river is fair"
and "Our eyes are closing in slumber awhile," he thought of Marie,
her beautiful eyes and sweet voice; all the happy things she had ever
said; the things that she had written, and like a voice coming across
the stillness of the night, he seemed to hear Marie calling as she
used to call: "Robert, dear," "Robert dear." He jumped from his chair,
startled, because for a moment he thought it was her voice, for he had
been hoping and expecting each moment to hear her voice, but alas it
was only a ghost of imagination and no Marie was there and no news of
her.
Robert turned another page and read: "Crossing the Bar," by Tennyson:
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me,
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep,
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark;
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark.
For tho' from out our bourne of time and place,
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
He read the last verse several times.
Robert thought of Marie, his pilot, his star, his hope. When he had
driven his ship across the uncertain sea of finance it would be Marie's
beautiful face that would keep the lovelight burning upon the altar
of his heart, ever to guide her captain safely home. He had looked to
her to pilot him into the path of peace, lead him to the fields of
contentment and, at last, to the height of eternal peace. He had looked
forward to this day, his birthday, when she would return to him and he
might claim her for his own. Thought of Marie's words, that hope and
anticipation are greater than realization, but felt that nothing in
the world could give him greater pleasure than the realization of this
moment if he could hold Marie in his arms, kiss her sweet lips and hear
the sweet words of love she had spoken to him in the past. Robert's
heart for a moment sank within him. It was too much for him. He sobbed
and cried like a baby but then he thought of his faith, of God and his
power supreme.
Again as he was wondering what to do, he got the crumpled note that
Marie wrote and put in his pocket on Sunday and read it again:
"According to your faith, be I unto you. Love will always hope,
understand and wait. Time proves all things. You will get everything
you want. I will come to you when I mean the most and your need for
love is the greatest." Only a few short lines, but so much said in
them and so much left unsaid, Robert thought. Yet they contained an
assurance, they left no doubt about a hope for the future and on that
hope and with that faith Robert would cling to the future. Time would
prove his love. Marie stated plainly that he would get everything he
wanted and he knew that the greatest thing in the world he wanted was
Marie. So at the close of another day of disappointment he felt that
there was room for hope and that the future was lined with hopes. He
resolved never to waver. Then read "A Psalm of Life" by Longfellow:
Tell me not in mournful numbers
Life is but an empty dream,
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act--act in the living present!
Heart within and God o'erhead.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
When he got to the verse
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act--act in the living present!
Heart within and God o'erhead.
Robert now fully realized that he must trust to the future if he
intended to live and continue to make a success and complete his
discoveries and inventions. He read the last verse slowly and carefully:
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
This sounded much better to Robert. He was willing to learn to labor
and wait and felt that if he waited there would be a reward, because
Marie had promised him and he knew that Marie would keep her promise,
and nothing could ever take from him that hope, that knowledge that
Marie would keep her promise.
Then he read another little poem: "The Spring of Love."
A little sun, a little rain,
A soft wind blowing from the West,
And woods and fields are sweet again
And warmth within the mountain's breast.
A little love, a little trust,
A soft impulse, a sudden dream,
And life as dry as desert dust,
Is fresher than a mountain stream.
He knew that he had great love and great trust, and that that love, and
the hope of Marie, would give him ambition and courage to continue on.
It was now getting late and no news had come of Marie. Robert realized
his birthday was passing and his hopes for the present were blasted.
He read the poem, "Lead Kindly Light":
Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark and I am far from home,
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene--one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to see and choose my path, but now
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.
So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it still
Will lead me on;
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent till
The night is gone;
And with the morn those angel faces smile
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
The last few lines of the final verse impressed him strongly. Robert
felt that Marie was only lost for awhile and that on the coming morning
he would meet the future with a smile, face it with hope, courage and
determination and make some new plans; figure some other new way by
which he might locate Marie or obtain some news of her whereabouts.
Realizing more than ever that hope deferred maketh the heart grow sick,
Robert read everything in the Bible that he could find on love. At last
he read the song of Solomon.
Robert knew that he would never leave his first love and go back on
her, that that was the one love of his life and that it would remain so
long as there was life in his body. With this resolve in his heart he
decided to face the future with hope.