THE CONCLUSION.
"Seest thou a man diligent in his business, he shall stand before
kings; he shall not stand before mean men."
BEFORE we close, we will sketch briefly some of the leading events
in the life of our hero, and then take a final glance at the
principal characters of our story.
Harrison continued in the employ of Mr. Kilby until the business
of the firm of Grant & Co. was finally settled, and proved himself
not only so faithful, but so well adapted to mercantile life, that,
young as he was, the gentleman offered to take him into his store
at the West, and give him a share of the profits, if he would consent
to leave his native State.
But the youth could not for a moment entertain the question
of leaving his mother in her feeble health, and he hesitated about
assuming such a trust as would there devolve upon him until he had
thoroughly learned the principles of the trade.
"If you will not accept my proposition," said his kind friend, with a
smile, "I must do the next best thing for you, and find you a good
place here."
He made many inquiries among his business friends, but found some
objection to every situation that offered until he happened to meet
an acquaintance at a public dinner, when the following conversation
took place:
"Do you know of a good opening for a young man every way
unexceptionable in character and habits?"
"We have a vacancy in our store; but I am anxious to find a youth
to whom I promised to apply in case such an event should occur.
Unfortunately I have lost his address."
"I can recommend my young friend highly," urged Mr. Kilby; and he
related briefly the connection Harrison maintained to him.
"A fine fellow, I have no doubt," was the warm reply; "but I took
a fancy to this lad, and I really want to find him. He had an open,
ingenuous countenance, and eyes that did not quail when you looked
him square in the face. He told me he supported his mother, too; and
I like boys that do that. So, much as I should like to oblige you,
I'll make a thorough search for my friend before I give him up."
"At any rate, you wont object to my calling with him?"
"Certainly not," was the laughing retort; "but don't encourage him
about the vacancy."
The next morning, Harrison, in company with Mr. Kilby, walked to the
wharf, and entered the store of Lombard & Lamb, the gentleman
motioning the youth to walk forward to the counting-room, where he
saw Mr. Lombard writing at the desk, while he stopped a moment
to speak to the other partner.
Harrison instantly recognized the gentleman who had been so kind
to him at the time he was looking for a place. He stood near the
counting-room door, hesitating whether to enter, when the old
gentleman looked up.
"Ah!" he said, holding out his hand, in the most cordial manner,
"I'm glad to see you again. Walk in here; I want to talk with you!"
At this moment Mr. Kilby came forward, when Mr. Lombard said,
quickly, much to the youth's surprise, "This is the one I mentioned.
If he is not engaged, your protegé will have no chance."
The gentleman smiled as he said, "Your description was so good that I
suspected we were talking of the same individual. Before you engage
him, however, I shall wish to be consulted, as he is under my care."
The preliminaries being most happily arranged, Harrison entered
the store of Lombard & Lamb, as salesman, this firm being in the same
general business as that of Grant & Company. Here he maintained
the same character for industry and honesty as when connected with
the other firm, and rose step by step in the confidence and esteem
of his employers, until he joined the firm as junior partner. A few
years later, Mr. Lombard, now at an advanced age, declared his
intention of retiring from active business. He did so; but not until
he had testified by his conduct, his high appreciation of the
energetic habits and the high business qualifications of his young
partner, by giving him an equal share in the profits of the firm.
In all his prosperity, Mrs. Danforth shared, and was often cheered
by her son's assurance that to her faithful instructions, under God,
he owed all his success.
"You early taught me to work, mother," he would say, with a smile of
filial affection, "and it is right you should reap the reward of my
industry."
Mrs. Haven continued to reside in the country for many years,
occupying herself in completing her daughter's education, for which
employment she was well fitted. At length, having entirely lost
all knowledge of Alfred, she ventured to yield to Ella's desire,
and moved back to her pleasant cottage, which had been thoroughly
repaired for her use.
And now, my young reader, if, as I hope, you have followed the
fortunes of my humble hero with interest, let me invite you to visit
with me that fine mansion reared upon the spot where once stood
Mrs. Haven's cottage. It is Christmas eve; and, as we approach,
we see that the house is brilliantly illuminated. It is evident that
company is expected. In a spacious parlor on the right of the hall
stands a fine, noble-looking man, in whom it would be difficult
to recognize our young favorite, Harrison Danforth. Yet, when he
turns to the lady on his left, with a smile, we see that his mouth
has lost none of its sweetness, though the predominent expression
is firmness. In his whole character and bearing, he exemplifies
the text which so animated him in his youth, "Seest thou a man
diligent in his business, he shall stand before kings; he shall not
stand before mean men."
The lady just referred to, is of that beautiful fairness
of complexion which is usually found only in children. As she stands
there by her life's chosen companion, with her soft hair partly
shading her fair forehead, her lips parted in a smile, she looks
too young to have taken upon herself the cares of a matron. Then,
again, have you never before seen that bright, laughing face,
with the deepening color coming and going like a cloud in a summer
sky? Yes, it is Ella Haven, fulfilling more than the promise of her
childhood, for she has received humbly the chastening rod of her
Heavenly Father, and has come forth from the furnace refined
like silver. For nearly three years the mortal remains of her mother
have been reposing in the quiet church yard; but her soul, through
faith in Christ, rested safely in the bosom of her God.
Near the happy pair, in a quiet corner, sits Mrs. Danforth, with a
look of calm happiness upon her features. She is now receiving
a rich reward, in the usefulness and happiness of her son, for all
her labors, instructions, and prayers in his behalf, and every day
realizes in her own experience the truth of the precious promise,
"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old
he will not depart from it."
Presently the expected company begin to arrive. Carriage after
carriage drives to the door, is disburdened of its living freight,
and rolls away to make room for still others. Truly, this is
a goodly gathering.
And now the guests have all advanced to their host and hostess,
exchanged cordially with them the compliments of the evening,
and scattered themselves around the room to discuss the topics
of the day. But they have scarcely formed themselves into groups
before a little urchin of three summers is led into the room by his
nurse, from whom he escapes the moment he espies his parents among
the crowd.
"Papa, come! Mamma, see! pretty angels here for Harry," and taking
his father's hand, attempted to pull him from the room. Mr. Danforth
laughingly yielded to the little fellow, though this was not exactly
the programme for the evening; and, after a moment's consultation
with his wife, in a raised voice, requested any of the company
who liked to do so, to proceed to the next room.
Most of those present quickly followed. Upon the doors being opened,
a large Christmas-tree was seen standing in the further corner of the
apartment, the branches hung with small, colored candles,
interspersed with a great variety of children's toys. Suspended above
the tree was the angel referred to by Harry. Its arms were folded
lovingly across its breast; but its wings were spread, as if on this
auspicious eve it hovered over the scene.
But the prettiest tableaux of all was the twenty little boys and
girls, under six years of age, who, in their holiday attire, stood
with raised eyes and clasped hands, apparently entranced by the
heavenly vision. There was a sudden hush among the company to gaze
at them.
Presently the angel's wings began to flutter, as if she wished
to take her flight. But no; she descended and rested on the topmost
branch of the tree, when, wonderful to relate, another angel
appeared, and began to distribute the Christmas gifts. With
outstretched pinions she seemed scarcely to touch the earth, as she
beckoned to one and another of the awe-struck group, and placed some
beautiful trinket within their hands. Not a word was spoken while the
scene lasted, and the silence was becoming almost embarrassing to the
principal actor, when Harry, who had stood watching the angel
with his large, earnest eyes, suddenly cried out, "Oh, it's my mamma!
I see her curls tucked under the cap," clapping his tiny hands,
in his joy.
Seeing herself discovered, Ella lifted her light crown, and her hair
falling to its natural position, the children gave a sigh of relief,
and the company burst into a merry laugh.
The little ones then were invited to a number of pleasant games,
in which Master Johnny Cowles Marland, a little youngster claimed
by our old friend Mary Jane, quite distinguished himself. They were
playing button, button, who has the button? when he arose at once,
and proudly declared himself to be the favored possessor. Neither,
when the game was explained to him, could he be made to understand
that it was right for him to guess, "Harry or Nelly have the button,"
while he held it between his own fingers. "No, no!" he cried; "I has
got the button, and danpa dives me oranges when I tell the truth."
There was quite a shout at this, and one of the gentlemen remarked
to Alderman Cowles, "He is a chip of the old block, I see."
After the games, the ladies and gentlemen walked to the supper-room
to see the children partake of refreshments, when the little ones
were consigned to the care of their nurses, and sent home to their
pillows, to dream of the angels, while the older company returned
to the parlors to seek further entertainment.
From these innocent amusements we must carry the reader to far graver
scenes.
During the evening in question, the mind of Mr. Danforth more than
once reverted to a cold, damp dungeon, not a dozen miles from his
house, where, awaiting his trial for murder, lay a prisoner,—
the brother of his beloved wife. He tried to throw it off and mingle
gaily in the scene; but there would ever and anon come up to his
remembrance thoughts of other days, when Alfred, the haughty, proud,
and idle boy delighted to domineer over him, the poor but diligent
youth. How strikingly in contrast was the meeting of that very day.
God had rewarded the honest exertions of the poor youth, and he was
rich and esteemed among men; while the idle, slothful boy had become
a contemner of God, and had been cast away among the very lowest
dregs of society.
The Monday following Christmas, Mrs. Danforth, wholly unconscious
that her only brother was that day to be brought to trial for his
life, proposed to her husband to improve the first sleighing by a
ride. "Only think!" she exclaimed, with something of the enthusiasm
of her girlhood, "How funny it will be for Harry! You know he can't
remember riding in a sleigh."
"I should enjoy it extremely," said her husband, in a serious tone;
"but I shall be very much engaged to-day, in fact all the week; but
that need not prevent you and Harry from enjoying this fine winter
weather. Robert can be spared from the store, and if you say so,
I'll send him out."
"But what have you to do?" she asked, playfully. "Some public
business, T dare say. I'm almost sorry that people like you
so very well, for I don't see you half as much as I want to."
"Thank you, my dear. The knowledge of your affection will strengthen
me in the performance of one of the most painful duties I have ever
discharged. I am to-day to sit in judgment upon one of my
fellow-creatures who is on trial for his life. I tremble lest
I should judge him wrongfully."
"Dreadful!" cried the lady. "Who is he, and what is his crime?"
"He professes to be a Spaniard, from Cuba," responded the gentleman;
"but I confess that I have my doubts upon that point. He pretends,
too, that he cannot understand a word of English; but when I was
conversing with the gentleman who accompanied me to the prison,
the man listened as if he comprehended as well as any of us. The
crime for which he was arrested is murder upon the sea. It seems that
there was a very bad set among the crew; and they formed a
conspiracy, headed by this man, to kill the captain, two mates and
the cabin-boy, and then seize the vessel."
"Oh shocking!" exclaimed Ella. "But did they succeed?"
"Only in part. They murdered one of the mates and the poor boy,
who could not be persuaded to join them. The captain by some means
found them out in time to save his own life. Sandoval, as he calls
himself, was put in irons, and the others closely watched until they
reached the port from which they were all sent here for trial."
"Who went with you, Harrison?"
"A gentleman by the name of Captain Greyson,—a fine man, whom I like
extremely. I shall want you to become acquainted with him. He seems
quite sure that he once returned from Calcutta in a ship with the
prisoner, and that he is not a Spaniard, as he pretends. He also is
to be one of the jury men."
"Well, whoever he is," sighed the lady, "I'm sure I pity him with all
my heart. I wonder whether he has any friends. When I hear of a very
bad man, I always think what mamma and I suffered about poor Alfred.
Husband," she added, after a moment's pause, "you needn't send Robert
out; I don't think I could enjoy riding when I thought of you in the
jury-box."
"Nonsense, dear!" he exclaimed, patting her head fondly. "It will be
a comfort to me to know that you are enjoying yourself. I would not
have told you, but I was afraid you might be anxious, as I may be
detained overnight."
"What for?" she inquired, in alarm.
"In a case of capital crime, my dear, the jury are never allowed
to converse with any one from the time they are impanelled, or sworn
into their office, until the case is decided."
"Oh, I hope you'll be able to vote for him to be released,"
she urged, gazing earnestly in his face.
"I hope so, indeed, Ella!" he said, turning away, faint and sick
at heart.
"Oh, what would she say!" he exclaimed when by himself, "if she knew
the prisoner was her own brother. I cannot tell her. No; I must bear
this dreadful burden of grief alone. Situated as she is, it might
kill her."
On his way to the court-room he met Captain Greyson, whom we formerly
knew and loved as Frank. "How strange," said he, "that the prisoner
holds out so. Sometimes I am almost tempted to think I am mistaken
in supposing that I once knew him."
"God grant that it may be so," replied Mr. Danforth, in a thrilling
tone; and then recovering himself, added, "it seems to me tenfold
worse to be the means of convicting a countryman."
"Perhaps," rejoined the officer, "if he should be found guilty,
he may be more softened in view of his punishment."
After two days the criminal was remanded to his cell, condemned to be
executed for wilful murder. Indeed, so overwhelming had been
the testimony of his guilt, and that too of the most aggravated
character, that the jury were unanimous in their opinion. How much
one of them suffered during the thirty-six hours that he was
retained, I must leave it to my readers to imagine. He returned
to his mansion pallid, care-worn, and depressed, almost dreading
to see Ella, for fear that she should read the dreadful truth in his
sad countenance.
The family had been to tea when he arrived, and the poor wife
was just deploring her hard fate to Mrs. Danforth when he appeared.
It seemed to him that he had never received so warm a welcome. His
mother brought his slippers and dressing-gown, while Ella bustled
about and passed him a cup of tea with her own hands, which was
presently followed by a more substantial meal.
After he had partaken it, he was sitting with his head concealed
by Harry's curls, trying to evade the inquiries of his wife, when the
door was opened, and the servant announced Captain Greyson.
"I tried to overtake you as we came out of court," said the
gentleman, frankly, "for I intended to impose myself upon your
hospitality, but you were too quick for me. I don't wonder at it,"
he added, gayly casting his eye around the happy group.
"I will order some supper for you at once," said Mrs. Danforth,
rising.
"Certainly you don't mean to impose upon me the duty of eating
two suppers, after such a tedious time in court," he added, with a
laugh. "No, I need nothing, thank you. I stopped at a restaurant
before I came out of the city."
The conversation at length turned upon the poor criminal.
Mrs. Danforth being very anxious to hear the particulars, the officer
kindly complied with her request; Mr. Danforth, taking Harry in his
arms and walking the room, all the while endeavoring to attract
the notice of the other without being seen by his wife.
After describing his really loathsome appearance, his long, shaggy
beard, his uncombed hair, and his look of defiance as he listened
to his sentence, the gentleman, finding his hearers were greatly
interested, went on to give an account of his first acquaintance
with the culprit.
"It was in Calcutta," he began; "I am quite sure of the fact, though
he persists in saying that he is a Spaniard. At that time he called
himself—"
"Captain Greyson!" cried out Mr. Danforth, in a quick, sharp voice,
"do come and tell me whether this is a good picture of St. Peter's
church, at Rome; you have been there often, I suppose."
The gentleman complied, though evidently wondering not a little
at the abruptness of the host.
"In mercy to us all," whispered Mr. Danforth, turning very pale,
"say nothing more; I will explain at some future time;" then added
aloud in a forced voice, "It is said to be very fine. I have long
wanted to ask some one who would be frank enough to give me
his real opinion."
"Excuse me, Ella," he said, as he returned to his seat, and hiding
his face in the neck of the boy, "but really I find myself so nervous
and excitable to-night, in consequence of my long confinement, that I
may be guilty of some breach of etiquette."
The lady glanced anxiously at her husband, and for the first time
noticing his haggard appearance, became really concerned for fear
he would be ill.
"No," said he, "when I have bid Harry good-night, I will throw myself
into the large chair at your side, and get Captain Greyson to favor
us with a description of some of the wonderful sights he has
witnessed."
And so by the kind and considerate care of her husband, Ella was
saved the knowledge of the dreadful end to which her brother's crimes
had brought him. Here we must leave them, trusting that we have
accomplished the object of our simple story by verifying God's
faithfulness to his promises, both as regards the industrious
and the idle.