THE TURNING OF THE TIDE.
It would indeed be difficult to describe the conflicting emotions felt
by the little group, as the Woodranger went out of the house. Each felt
that the strange man had departed with no intention of returning――at
least for a considerable time. Mr. MacDonald was the only one to
speak, and he ordered, in his own peculiar way, that some one be sent
after him. In the excitement the paper was forgotten. It was not long
before Mr. Stark and his good wife entered the apartment, and they were
equally surprised over what had been said and done.
In the midst of their questions, steps were heard without the dwelling.
Then, as Mr. Stark opened the door, a stranger advanced to enter.
“I am Archie McNiel,” he said, “and I have been told that I――I should
find my long-lost son Norman here.”
“Come in,” said Mr. Stark, simply, stepping aside as the other obeyed.
Norman could remain silent no longer, and springing forward, he cried,
as the newcomer caught him in his outspread arms:
“Father!”
“My son――found at last!”
During this affecting meeting the others in the room turned aside to
conceal their emotion, Mr. MacDonald alone watching the reunited twain
closely, while he showed that he was making a great effort to remain
calm.
“I cannot realise this is indeed you, father,” said Norman, finally.
“Nor I, that at last I hold you in my arms, my son. I had long since
given you up as dead. About two months ago I got word from one who
signed himself as ‘The Woodranger,’ to come at once――that you and
father were living here. I came with all possible haste. Father,”
turning to the old Highlander, “have you no welcome for me?”
“I dinna ken. Ye’re――” and then he stopped.
“Woodranger has told you all?”
“He has telt me naething. Whaur is the man?”
“He would not come back with me. I could not persuade him, as much as I
wanted to. His countenance seemed very familiar to me.”
“I dinna read him.”
“He gave you a paper which explains all? I know my name has been under
a cloud, but I have been innocent of all imputed to me. Read the
paper, sir, if you would know the truth.”
With trembling hand, Mr. MacDonald unrolled the manuscript, worn and
soiled, and began to read. He had not progressed far, before he found
that it was a confession showing that Alick MacDonald, and not Archie
McNiel, was the guilty party, and that he had so skilfully covered his
course as to escape detection. When he had read so far, he stopped,
and, crumpling the paper in his hand, exclaimed:
“I will not believe it!” and threw the paper into the fire. The flames
caught quickly upon it, and filling the wide-mouthed fireplace with its
fiery waves for a moment, the blaze died down, showing only a charred
cobweb of its remains.
“It is better so,” said Archie McNiel. “There is nothing between
us now, Robert MacDonald. If I have caused you a pang, I ask to be
forgiven. Let the past be forgotten, and let us, on this Christmas eve,
clasp hands across the void of years.”
“Amen,” said Archie Stark. “Peace on earth, good-will toward men.”
“If that strange man had only stayed,” declared Mr. MacDonald, as he
allowed the arms of his son-in-law to encircle his neck. The reunion
was now complete.
Mr. Stark’s invitation was so urgent for them to remain with him the
next day that the reunited family consented. The first settlers in
America gave little, if any, observation to Christmas, as a rule. The
English colonists ignored it altogether, believing it infested with too
much popery; but that was a day which those gathered at Mr. Stark’s
never forgot. In many respects it was the happiest they ever knew.
The following day, Norman, his father, grandfather, and Rilma returned
to their home, which soon bore more than its old-time cheerfulness. In
fact, the tide had turned in the affairs of Tyng Township, and they
were benefited by it.
It may have been due to his loss of favour from the burning of
Christo’s cabin, or from other reasons, but Gunwad did not offer to
trouble them any more. In fact, there was not much time for him to do
so, as the following May the boundary dispute, which had kept the two
provinces embroiled so long, was happily settled. Perhaps not happily
to all, for many were the losers, but it was settled for all time. By
that settlement, the brave men of the “Snow-shoe Expedition” under
Captain Tyng lost their claim to Tyng Township. The grant was now
within New Hampshire’s jurisdiction. It is true they were given another
township in the province of Maine, but it was so far away that some of
the men preferred to buy off the Presbyterians and remain. Some went
back to their former homes, and a few emigrated to the new grant,
where they found less to contend with.
The meeting-house which had cost them so much money and anxiety was
soon after burned; and then the name of the town was changed, and the
last link connecting those trying years with the new existence was
broken. War with the Indians broke out afresh, during which no men
in New England did nobler or more effective work than those who went
from what was once derisively called Old Harrytown, and comprised the
Debatable Ground.
It is scarcely necessary to detail the incidents of Archie McNiel’s
life after the unfortunate affair which separated himself from his
loved ones, and kept him in ignorance of their fates so long. In the
light of their new-found happiness the old wounds healed. He became one
of the most respected citizens of his adopted land. Norman became not
only that, but one of the most noted and helpful. History has depicted,
in varied language, the after-life of all our other characters, but the
historian aims at glittering generalities rather than the many little
personalities which are the sum and substance of all lives. I hope to
tell very many of these before I am done with the WOODRANGER TALES.
THE END.
Transcriber’s Notes:
――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
――Obvious punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
corrected.
――Archaic, variable, and dialectal spelling has been preserved.
――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.