AFFLICTIONS.
Mr. Merritt had nearly reached his dwelling before he recovered from the
confusion into which his faculties had been thrown by the astounding
intelligence conveyed by the attorney. As he now gazed upon his peaceful
home, it seemed more beautiful than ever. Alas! it could be his no
longer. The savings of long years—the earnings of days and nights of
hard toil, so carefully husbanded—the little luxuries that had been
done without—the self-denials that had been practiced—the privations
undergone, to gather a substance which should soothe life’s
decline—all, all gone at a single blow, swept away forever! How could
he impart the dreadful news to his wife! How could he endure to meet the
companion of his bosom and his darling family, plunged, through his own
imprudence, (he felt,) into hopeless want. “She shall be happy a little
longer,” thought he, and retraced his steps to his shop.
Mr. Merritt did not, as usual, go home to dinner on that day, but
remained in his shop, hour after hour, absorbed in deep and bitter
thought.
“Can there be no law to punish such monstrous corruption?” said he to
himself, as he closed the shop for the night. Here again Mr. Merritt
displayed his ignorance, in supposing that men in high places could be
called to account for mere trifles like this. In fact, he did not know
how very seldom _law_ means _justice_, when wealth and station are
placed at the bar for trial, or he would have spared himself the
question. He walked slowly homeward, endeavoring as much as possible to
compose his agitated spirits for the scene which he knew awaited him.
The eye of love is keen of penetration, and Mrs. Merritt discovered as
soon as the mechanic entered the cottage that all was not right. Knowing
of his intended visit to the attorney, her imagination pictured a
thousand causes of alarm, and overcome by contending emotions, she threw
herself upon his neck, bursting into a flood of tears.
“Speak, my dear husband,” she cried. “I see from your pallid face and
bloodless lips, that some new and dreadful calamity has befallen us. O
reveal it all to me, I can bear any thing save my fears.”
“Concealment would be useless,” said the mechanic, “for you must know it
sooner or later. Endeavor to compose yourself, dearest, things are not
as bad as you apprehend. To see you thus is a severer pang than I have
encountered before. Wife, we are only—beggars!”
Mr. Merritt, with astonishing calmness, proceeded to relate his
interview with Esquire Rock, and its results, nearly as we have narrated
them in the last chapter.
With what keen delight would the bank attorney have looked upon that
scene of anguish and despair.
The first paroxysms over, Mrs. Merritt became more calm, and listened
attentively to the end. That day of gloom was closed by fervent
supplication to the High Source of all hope and consolation, for
strength and support against the tempest that awaited them.