CHAPTER XVIII.
A SONG IN THE NIGHT.
It snowed steadily all day; and evening closed around them in the midstof this soft, noiseless storm. The roads were beginning to be blockedup, the houses were hooded in ermine, and no one passed by the windows.Not a soul had been in that day. So, after the lamp was lighted, theydrew closer together. Hal read a while from a book of poems that Mrs.Howard had lent him.
"It is nearly bed-time," he said at length.
"I don't feel a bit sleepy."
"Hal," began Granny, stretching out her thin hand, "don't leave me. Ifeel so strange."
"Worse, my own dear?"
"Not in pain, but sort of restful, as if I'd come to something--no,I'm not afraid, Hal. I've been praying all along that I might die, andmaybe it's coming. I'm a poor old body, not worth much,--and Joe's_there_, you know."
She gave her head a feeble nod. Hal swallowed over a great sob.
"When will it be Christmas?"
"To-morrow."
"Maybe I'll be up among the angels,--a poor, ignorant, foolish oldbody like me! It's wonderful to think of! But Joe'll be there, to takehis dear Granny by the hand, and keep her from stumbling, and makingmistakes, and doing all the things that would shame or vex any one. AndChrist loved us all, you know. He died for us. I think I've understoodit better since Joe stood there on the ship, refusing to get intothe boat lest he might swamp it. He died for some one: not in _that_fashion, for he didn't have any sins to bear, and wasn't reviled andwounded; but still he gave his sweet life,--his dear life that was somuch to me."
Dot crept up to the bed.
"After I'm gone you and Dot'll love each other. It will be sad for alittle while, but God will remember you, and bring you comfort. I'vecried to him a' many times, when it's been dark all round; and, whenall other friends fail, you'll find him true and strong. I've done thebest I could. It's been poor enough; but then I never had learnin'and all that to help me. I took you when you were all little chaps,motherless and fatherless, and I've tried to keep you together. Butthey've strayed off, Hal. There's only you and Dot to give Granny alast kiss."
Dot was sobbing on Granny's pillow.
"Don't, deary, don't," in her quivering, entreating voice. "We mustall die some time. God knows when it's best. And I ain't of any usenow, my work's all done. I'd like to see 'em all again, Hal,--dearlittle things; only I never can believe they are all men and women.And, if Flossy comes back, give her my love. She was so pretty, withher long golden curls! I don't wonder the grand lady liked her. AndCharlie,--Charlie was such a good girl all last summer, working like awoman! Yes--if I could only see 'em once more!"
Hal wiped away his fast falling tears. It seemed too hard that Granny'sunselfish life should not be crowned at the last. To die here, almostalone!
"You remember the old Christmas, Hal? The last time we were alltogether! Ah, how sweet it was! And the presents, and the old shoefull!"
Granny's voice sunk to a tremble of delight.
"It was so happy, so merry! All of 'em laughing and talking, and theirbright pretty faces full of fun. But--maybe--I'll see 'em all inheaven. Don't cry, Dot."
Hal drew her to his breast, and soothed her with tender kisses. Then hesat down in the old rocker, and took her on his knee.
"There never was such a Christmas, never! I was so glad to have youall, so proud of you! And I've done my best"--
"Yes, Granny, God, who watches over all things, will bear witness tothat. You were mother and father to us. And how you have toiled andworried and made sacrifices, how you have loved us, will all be writtenin the Great Book. I'm glad you are going to have a reward there."
"I shall see Joe."
Then she was quiet for a long while.
"I can't remember any thing about the Christmas," said Dot with muchperplexity.
"Tell her, Hal. I'll listen; and it will seem all fresh again," pleadedGranny in a faint, far-off voice.
"You were such a weeny little thing, and couldn't talk plain; but thenyou had always been sick."
"And cross," Kit says.
"You did use to cry--sometimes; and then at others you were like alittle lamb. All children cry occasionally."
Dot felt, somehow, as if she had not outgrown the trick yet; but thetears fell close to Hal's heart.
"But about the Christmas?"
"Oh, yes!"
Then Hal began. The preparations beforehand, the secrecy and plotting,the stockings stuffed to overflowing, and the wildest of merriment thenext morning. It appeared to Dot that she could see it like a picture.
"And O Hal, that we should be so lonely now! Hasn't God let us slip outof his mind for a little while?"
"I think not, my darling."
"But how _can_ you always believe? Why did God let Joe die, when wewanted him so much; and Flossy go away? And all the other things,--thesweet pretty flowers that were frozen?"
"My dear child, we cannot answer the questions. Trials always appearvery hard to those who have them to bear; but maybe God gives us one tosave us from some other that would be a great deal harder. And with itthere is grace to endure."
"As when you were hurt. I wonder that you could be so patient, Hal!"and the little arms crept up around his neck.
"It was part my nature, you know. I used to be sorry at school, that Iwasn't like the other boys; for, somehow, I never _was_: but, when Godknew what I would have to bear, he made me patient, and almost girlish,loving to stay in the house, and all that. If I'd been like Joe, Ishould have fretted sorely when I found I should never be able to go tosea. He was so full of life and energy, you know, so ambitious, that itwould almost have killed him. It was best to have it happen to me."
Dot sighed, her small brain being greatly puzzled.
"But I don't see why every one cannot be happy and prosperous. Isn'tthere enough to go round to all?"
"God knows best. And, when it troubles me sorely, I think of thelittle Christ-child, who was born eighteen hundred years ago, allgoodness and sweetness and meekness, and of the trials he had to bearfor our sakes. All the lowly life, the reviling, the unbelief, thepersecution, the being homeless, and sometimes almost friendless,and at the last the shameful death. We shall never have all that, mydarling; and so we ought to bear our lesser sorrows patiently."
Dot made no answer.
"My darling," said Hal, glancing at the clock, "ought you not to go tobed? It is almost midnight."
"And you?" reaching up to kiss the dear face.
"I am going to stay here by Granny."
Dot looked into his face with great awe.
"Hal, I've never seen any one die; but I want to stay too. There's onlyjust you and I; and she'll want us to kiss her for the last time, whenthe angels come."
Hal pressed the little face in his trembling hands, but could not denythe wistful eyes.
Then he rose, and looked at Granny. She had fallen into a peacefulslumber. It did not seem as if she could die just then; and yet, atthis hour of rejoicing, some souls were slipping out of the world.
He came back to his seat, and to his little sister. Dot's head waspillowed on his knee, and presently she began to drowse. Poor littlebairn!
So he kept his vigil by himself, thinking over the old days, when theywere all here. Oh, if Granny could have seen them once more! If thebrave and lovely men and women could come back to the old home-nest,all outgrown,--and he smiled sadly to himself,--just to clasp eachother's hands, and glance into each other's eyes, to speak some wordof comfort and blessing, to smooth the path of the dear heart yonder,who had given herself for them without stint or grudging, a holiersacrifice than even a mother's love.
His mind was sorely troubled when he thought of Florence. Sincechildhood she had "lain in the roses and lilies of life." They hadborne the burden and sorrow, the trials, the deprivations, days oftoil, nights of anxious care about the future. And it seemed as if noneof them had been especially prospered. She had gone to luxury at abound. Where was she to-night? Did any
remembrance of them ever crossher soul, amid her wealth and pleasure?
Poor Joe again! It was the sad refrain to which his life would beforever set, like a strain of minor music. He loved Joe so dearly!There was such a soreness, such an aching and longing in his heart,that it sometimes seemed as if he could stretch out his arms, andsearch among the tangled seaweed until he found Joe, and lift him outof his cold bed. One bright dream broken off in the middle.
There had been so much to take up his attention this winter, that hehad hardly felt anxious for Charlie. Her cheerful little notes werelike stray sunbeams, and she _had_ promised to come back. Ah, if itcould only be in time to say good-by to Granny!
Now and then he shut his eyes, and breathed a tender prayer,--that Godwould keep them all; that, no matter how far they strayed from eachother, they might never stray from him.
The lamp burned dimly in the room beyond. Granny still sleptpeacefully, and Dot's baby hand was fast clasped in his. All was stillto awesomeness. Even the storm without must have ceased.
"Hal," called the dear voice.
Gently as he laid Dot down, the movement woke her.
"Give me a little drink, Hal, please," Granny asked.
He brought her some wine.
"I wonder if there is any thing that I could eat?"
"I left some chicken-broth on the stove to keep warm, and there is alittle jelly."
"I've had such a nice sleep, Hal! I feel so rested! It was almost likebeing in heaven, for Joe seemed to have his arms around my neck. Is itmorning?"
"Almost."
"Oh!" exclaimed Dot, "it is clear and beautiful, with hosts of stars! Iwonder if any shepherd watches them and thinks"--
"'In Bethlehem of Judea,'" said Granny in a chanting tone. "'Unto youis born a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.'"
"How strange it seems! Christmas morning!"
Hal brought the chicken and the jelly. Granny ate remarkably for her.Then he placed his fingers on her pulse. It certainly _was_ stronger.
"I do think she is better," he said to Dot, who had followed him to thekitchen.
"O Hal! maybe she won't die. I never saw anybody"--
"She was nervous last night, thinking so much of Joe," rejoined Halsoftly in the pause that Dot did not finish.
"I'm so glad to have her better!"
"Children," Granny said when they came back, "it is Christmas morning,and you ought to sing. Everybody keeps Christmas."
Dot glanced up in tearful surprise. What was she thinking of,--angelsin heaven?
"They sang on the plains of Judea, you know."
An awesome chill crept over Hal. Was this the change that sometimespreceded the last step over the narrow river? Had Granny received thatsolemn call?
"Sing," she said again. "Some of the bright Christmas hymns."
Hal's heart was throbbing up to his throat. He did not know whether hecould trust his voice.
"What shall it be, Dot?"
She thought a moment. "'Wonderful Night,'" she answered. "But, oh! Ifeel more like crying. I can't help it."
The two voices rose tremblingly in the beautiful carol.
"Wonderful night, Wonderful night! Angels and shining immortals, Thronging the heavenly portals, Fling out their banner of light. Wonderful, wonderful night!"
They sang until they forgot sorrow and toil and poverty, and the greatfear that overshadowed them. The soft voice of the child Dot growingstronger, and the pain in Hal's slipping away, changing into faith andtrust. For, as he sung, he grew wonderfully calm, even hopeful.
"It's like heaven, children! I've been thinking it all over, and God_does_ know best. If they were all here, it would be harder for me togo."
The two kissed each other amid fast falling tears. When they glanced upagain a faint streak of dawn stole in at the window.
"How strange!" exclaimed Dot. "We have not been to bed at all, only Ihad a nap on your knee." Then very softly,--
"Merry Christmas, Hal."
"Merry Christmas to you, my little darling."
Then Hal looked at the fires, and hurried them up a trifle. How lovelyit was without! Over the whole earth lay a mantle of whitest ermine.Tree and shrub were robed in fleecy garments,--arrayed for thisChristmas morning. As the sun began to quiver in the east they sparkledwith a thousand gems.
It seemed like the beginning of a new life. Why, he could not tell,but he never forgot the feeling of solemn sweetness that stole overhim as he stood by the window in the flower-room, looking over to theinfinite, fancying that earth and heaven met this morning; the finegold of the one blending with the snowy whiteness of the other. So purewas the soul of the little child born eighteen hundred years ago.
Within, it was all fragrance and beauty. The plains of the Orient couldnot have been more odorous in that early dawn. Unconsciously he hummedover two or three lines,--
"Midnight scarcely passed and over, Drawing to this holy morn; Very early, very early-- Christ was born."
They went about their simple homely duties, as if some unbidden guesthad entered, whose presence filled the space out of which a dear facehad vanished.
"Granny _is_ better, I am sure," Dot said, preparing some breakfast forher.
"I am so thankful!"
"Listen to the church-bell! How faintly it comes ploughing through thesnow; but oh, how sweet! Hal, I can't help feeling happy. I wonder ifit is wrong, when we were so sad last night?"
Something floated through Hal's brain,--"Sorrow may endure for a night,but joy cometh in the morning." He brushed a tear away from his eye;but it was tenderness rather than sorrow.
While Dot was cooking her dainty breakfast, Hal took a turn atshovelling snow, clearing the old doorstep, and part of the path. Itmade his cheeks rosy, and the fresh crisp air took the tired look outof his eyes.
"Granny has been asking for you," Dot said, as he came in.
He warmed his hands, and entered the room. Dot lingered by the window,glancing up and down the unbroken road. Not a sound anywhere. Itabsolutely seemed to her as if a little bird ought to come out of thesnowy trees, and sing.
Something attracted her attention,--a man striding along, muffled upto the ears, looking this way and that, as if considering how best toextricate himself from the last plunge, and make another. No, it wasnot Dr. Meade,--no one for them thus early in the morning.
Still she looked, and smiled a little. The strong, manful tread wasgood to behold. When he reached the house, he paused, appeared to beconsidering, then wheeled about.
She laughed this time. He placed his hand on the gate-post, and leapedover. It was such a boyish, agile spring! In the path he stamped offthe snow, came straight to the door, and knocked.
Dot started, and opened it. A tall, laughing fellow, with a bronzebrown beard and swarthy cheeks, lighted with a healthful glow ofcrimson. What was there so oddly familiar in the laughing eyes?
For an instant he did not speak. Dot began to color with embarrassment,and half turned to summon Hal.
"Oh, it's Dot, little Dot! And you have forgotten me!"
The rich, ringing voice electrified Hal. He made a rush in a blind,dazed way; for the room swam round, and it seemed almost as if he weredying.
"Oh, it isn't Joe! dear old Joe!"
And then Hal felt the strong arms around him. The glowing cheek wasagainst his, and there were tears and kisses, for Hal was crying like ababy. I've done my best with him, I want you to observe; but I'm afraidhe will be a "girl"-boy to the end. But nothing ever was so sweet asthat clasp; and Joe's love on this side of the shining river seemed thenext best thing to the infinite love beyond.
"Oh, I can't believe it!" he sobbed. "Did God raise you from the sea,Joe? for we heard"--
"Yes," with a great tremble in the tone. "It's just like being raisedfrom the dead. And oh, Hal, God only knows how glad I am to come backto you all!"
Hal hid his face in the curly beard, and tried to stop the tears that_would_ flow
in spite of his courageous efforts.
There was a call from the other room,--a wild, tender cry,--and thenext instant Joe was hugging Granny to his throbbing, thankful heart.You could hear nothing but the soft sobs that sounded like summer rain,blown about by the south wind. Ah, how sweet, how satisfying! What waspoverty and care and trouble and loss, so long as they had Joe backagain?
"Oh!" cried Granny, "I'm willing to die now. I've seen him, my darling!"
"Why, Granny, that would be blackest ingratitude. Here I've livedthrough all my narrow escapes, and they have been enough to kill anyten men, and, by way of welcome, you talk of dying. Why, I'll run back,and jump into the sea!"
"She has been very sick," said Hal.
"But she means to get well now. Dear old Granny! We couldn't keep housewithout you."
They knew well enough then that it was Joe, and not a Christmas ghost;for no one ever did have such a rich merry voice, such a ringing laugh,and oh, the dear bright eyes, shining like an April sky!
Granny looked him all over. How he had changed! A great strong,splendid fellow, whose smiling face put new hope into one.
"I almost feel as if I could get well," she said weakly.
"Of course you will; for, Granny, I have the silk gown, and we'll havejust the jolliest time there has ever been in this little shanty. Butwhere are all the rest?"
"Kit is at work in Salem, and he meant to come home last night; but Isuppose the storm prevented."
"It was terrible! I've travelled night and day to reach home byChristmas. And last night, when the trains had to go at a snail's pace,or were snowed in, I couldn't stand it, so I took a sleigh; but we lostthe road, and twenty other things; and then the horse gave out: it wassuch fearful, wearing work. And, when I came in sight of Terry's oldstore, I wouldn't stop, but trudged on afoot; for I wanted you to know,first of all, that I was safe and alive."
"It's just like a dream; and oh, Joe, the merriest Christmas there evercan be!"
"Where's that midget of a Charlie?"
"Ran away! It's very funny;" and Hal smiled, with tears in his eyes.
"But you know where she is?"
"I think she is in New York,--I'm pretty sure; and she has promised tocome home."
"Well, that beats my time! Ran away! She threatened to do it, you know.And here I've forgotten all about little Dot! You don't deserve to bekissed nor made much of, you small woman, when you never gave me a wordof welcome, but, instead, a cold, unfriendly stare. You don't rememberJoe, who broke his delicate constitution carrying you round on his backto keep you from crying."
With that he caught her up, and perched her on the edge of Granny'sbed. She was very shy, and turned a brilliant scarlet. This greatstrange fellow their dear, sweet Joe? She could not believe it!
"And you really were not drowned," said Granny, still anxious.
"Not exactly," with a droll twinkle of the eye.
"We heard"--
"Yes, the brave little 'Argemone' went down, and she was a beauty. Butsuch a frightful storm! You can form no idea of it. Some day I'll tellyou all. Our time is too precious for the long story now."
"And you wouldn't get in the boat," said Granny, her pale washed-outeyes alight with pride.
"There were three young fellows of us besides the sick captain, and wehad no wives nor babies; so it seemed right that we should give theothers the first chance. It was a miracle that they were saved. I neverthought they would be. We lashed ourselves to some timbers, and trustedthe winds and waves. What those days and nights were I can never tellyou! I know now what that brave old soldier and sailor, St. Paul, meantwhen he said, 'A day and a night have I been in the deep.'"
Hal gave the sun-browned hand a tender squeeze.
"An Arabian trading vessel picked us up at last. We thought Jackwas dead, but after a long while he revived. We were all perfectlyexhausted. I could send no word, and then I resolved to come home justas soon as I could. I fancied you would hear of the loss. Did that makeGranny ill?"
"No, she was sick before."
"But I'll get well now," she rejoined humbly. "I didn't want to, youknow. Heaven seemed so much better."
Joe bent over and kissed her, wondering if he ever could repay thetender love.
"Have you ever heard from"--
There was no need of a name.
"She was married more than a year ago. I wrote that to you. There havebeen no tidings since."
"Are you going to have any breakfast?" asked Dot. "My muffins will bespoiled."
"Yes, indeed! I'm hungry as a bear. Granny, shall I carry you out?"
She laughed in her old cracked, tremulous fashion, good to hear. To Halit seemed the beginning of a new life.
"I guess I'll lie still and think a bit, for I can't make it true.It's just as if we watched for him last night, Hal, and to-day is a dayof great joy."
Dot's coffee and muffins were delightful. Then she broiled over alittle of the chicken that had been left from the day before, and theyhad quite a sumptuous breakfast.
"How odd it seems to have Dot any thing but a baby!" laughed Joe. "It'squite ridiculous for her to set up housekeeping. Small young woman, youcan't impose upon me."
"But she is royal at it;" and Hal gave her a fond smile.
"Now tell me all that has happened: I'm crazy to know. I believe I'venot heard a word in six or eight months," declared Joe.
So Hal went back to the summer,--losing the school, Charlie's runningaway, Granny's illness, Kit's going to Salem, the mishap of theflowers, even the vigil of last night, when they believed Granny dying.
"But it _will_ be a merry Christmas," Joe said with a great tremble inhis voice. "And you can never guess how glad I am to be safe and alive,to comfort you all. Dear, dear Granny!--the best and bravest heart inthe wide world, and the most loving."
The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe; Or, There's No Place Like Home Page 20
