After Long Years and Other Stories

T >> Translated from the German by Sophie A. Miller and Agnes M. Dunne >> After Long Years and Other Stories

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"From the dog's manner," said Mr. Trent, "I surmise that he was not
successful in finding the baby's parents, who were undoubtedly lost in
the flood. Let us take good care of him, for he has so faithfully
fulfilled his duty. We, too, have a duty to perform, for we must train
and educate this child whom we have taken into our family."

Though the child's position in life was now on a higher plane, yet his
training was no different from that which his own parents would have
given him. His new parents worked hand in hand. Daniel soon felt a
childish reverence for his foster-father, and toward his foster-mother
he showed a trusting love. He grew to be a handsome boy, displaying many
splendid talents. He was a diligent scholar and stood highest among his
classmates. He did everything in his power to give pleasure to his
foster-parents. He regarded them as his true parents, for no one had
told him otherwise. It had happened that when Daniel was two years old
his foster-parents bought a house in another section of the country and
moved into it. The new neighbors looked upon Daniel as the real son of
Mr. and Mrs. Trent.

CHAPTER IV

THE ERRAND

When Daniel Trent had reached his fourteenth year, he was able to assist
his foster-father in his business. He wrote a fine hand, did much of his
"father's" clerical work, and carried out all orders with exactness.

One evening he was sent out on an errand to a little village on the
Rhine, not far from where they now resided. Daniel was pleased at the
prospect of a long walk in the cool evening air. His good dog, who was
still living and in fairly good condition for his age, accompanied him.

Just as Daniel's business had been transacted, a ship came into port.
The passengers crowded the gang plank and the wharf. Several boys and
young men pressed forward and offered to show the travellers the way and
to carry their baggage.

At last a little boy addressed a refined, though shabbily dressed old
man, and asked if he could direct him to a hotel.

"Oh, no," said the old man, "I will remain on shipboard over night; I
couldn't pay the price of a room in a hotel. My meal will be a sandwich
that I have in this bag; and as for a drink, a glass of fresh water will
appease my thirst."

Daniel listened with sympathy to the old man, who had an honest kind
look. Timidly moving a little closer to him, he said, while his face
grew red: "If you would not feel offended, I should like to give you a
little money, out of my allowance."

"My dear young man," said the traveller, "true it is that I have never
accepted charity, but I must admit, you have offered it to me in such a
friendly, well-meaning manner that I would gladly accept it, if I could;
I thank you heartily for it. May your kind thoughtfulness be rewarded."

The dog, who in the meantime had hurried to the water's edge to quench
his thirst, hastily returned, just as Daniel was about to continue his
way. The next minute, he was leaping and springing and barking, as
loudly as he could, and showing unbounded joy. The traveller cried out
in astonishment: "My dog, you are my Rover. Do I find you again, after
so many years? How did you get here?"

Daniel looked surprised and said: "It seems that the dog knows you very
well. Did he ever belong to you?"

"Yes, truly," said the man, "but I thought he was drowned thirteen years
ago, when the Rhine overflowed and carried my house with it. I never
expected to see my dog again.--But," said he, as he dried his eyes, "I
sustained at that time a greater loss than could ever be retrieved."

"What was that?" asked Daniel.

Then the old man told the tale of the flood and said that, in the
darkness of the night, and in the great hurry and excitement, his
youngest child, a babe, had been left lying in its cradle. Perhaps it
had been crushed to death by the collapsing walls of his house and been
buried in the waters of the river.

Daniel was deeply moved by the sad fate of this babe. Little did he
dream that he was the child whom he was pitying. He tried to comfort the
old man over the loss of the infant.

The old man then said, "I have learned to accept my grief, as having
been sent from God. In the end He will prove to each life that what is
sent is for the best."

Daniel agreed with him, and offered him his hand in friendship. Then he
bade him good-bye, saying that the lateness of the hour was the cause of
his haste.

Daniel walked on and called his dog. The faithful Rover did not wish to
forsake his long-lost and newly-found master, but neither did he wish to
lose Daniel. He would hurry ahead and stand in front of Daniel, barring
the way, as if he wished to stay him, and then he would run back to the
old man.

Daniel at last stood still. The dog lay down between them and looked
appealingly, first at one and then at the other, as if he wished to beg
them to remain together. Again Daniel started, but the dog went through
the same antics. A half hour passed in this way. At last Daniel said: "I
really don't know what to do. I love this dog, but I would like you to
have him, too; but I can't let you take him, for he belongs to my
father. Come with me, and let him decide who shall have the dog."

They walked together along the lamp-lighted streets, and the happy dog,
with leaps and barks, gave evidence of his great joy.

CHAPTER V

THE OLD MAN

Mr. Trent and his wife had delayed the evening meal, awaiting Daniel's
return. Daniel led the strange man into the dining-room, where the table
was spread with a beautiful white cloth, relieved by polished silver and
food temptingly arranged. It was a welcome sight to the travel-weary old
man.

Mr. Trent was about to reprimand his son for his belated return, but he
hesitated at the sight of the stranger. Daniel related the incidents of
the evening, and they amply served to excuse him for his tardiness. Mr.
Trent then asked the old man what he knew about the dog.

Mr. Swift related at length the same story that he had told Daniel; and
added that his losses were great, but that the loss of his baby boy had
given him the greatest pain in his life.

Mr. Trent and his wife both came to the conclusion, in a flash, that the
babe which they had adopted was most assuredly this man's son. Mr.
Trent, a clever, as well as a careful man, wished to probe the matter to
his entire satisfaction, so he dismissed Daniel on some errand. Then he
questioned the stranger, as to his name, his place of residence, the
year and the month and all circumstances surrounding that dreadful
night, in minutest detail.

"Tell me," said he, "did your dog wear a collar?"

"O yes," said the old man, "it was made of red leather, and engraved on
a metal plate was his name Rover, and the letters J. M. S., which stand
for my name, Joseph Martin Swift."

"Now," said Mrs. Trent, "will you describe the cradle?"

"Very well," said the man, "it was made of pine wood. The body was
painted blue and it had a red canopy."

Mr. and Mrs. Trent looked deeply into the old man's eyes, and found in
his face, looking through the wrinkles which deep sorrow and care had
chiseled there, a remarkable resemblance to their adopted son.

"I have no further doubt," said Mr. Trent, "that the son who thirteen
years ago, as a tender babe, floated in its cradle down the Rhine, was
saved from the flood, and lives today."

"How, what?" cried the man in joyful astonishment. "Oh, where is he?
Where is he? Lead me to him at once."

"You have already seen him," said Mr. Trent. "The young man who brought
you here is your son."

"What?" cried the old man, "that handsome young lad. Could it he
possible? Oh, how miraculous!" He folded his hands and stood in silence,
till his overwrought feelings broke forth in a torrent of tears. At last
he said: "How was he saved? How did he reach this house and these good
circumstances?"

Mr. Trent related everything in a few words: how the faithfulness of the
dog had been the first means toward the rescue of the infant. "We took
your child, adopted him and brought him up. He always behaved well and
has given us great joy. As we did not know his name, we had him renamed
Daniel. We never let him know that he was not our own child. We must now
disclose this fact to him. I hear him coming and will ask you to
withdraw to the next room until you recover yourself."

"Thank you," said the highly elated father, "I should like to be alone
for a few moments, that I may offer my thanks for this great goodness."

By this time Daniel had reached the dining-room. As he missed the
stranger, but still saw the dog, he asked: "Well, my dear father, did
you satisfy the old man?"

"My dear boy, come seat yourself beside me, for I have something to say
to you. We, whom you have always considered as father and mother, are
not your parents."

Daniel was greatly disturbed by this news and could scarcely speak. At
last he said: "Oh, my dear parents, what great good you have always
rendered me. How deep has been your love to me. All the rest of my life
I will thank you. But, how is it that you only now divulge this great
secret? You do not intend to cast me out, I hope?"

"Certainly not, my dear Daniel," said Mr. Trent, "but listen further.
You are the child that was rescued from the river, and the stranger whom
you brought here is your father."

"This man!" cried Daniel in astonishment; "yet he appears to me to be a
good, honest man."

Then Mr. Trent continued, in order to test Daniel, and said: "That may
be! But he is so poor, while you are now so rich. You don't need him.
Besides, in his poor clothes, he would not be any credit to you. So I
thought I would give him a sum of money, and send him back to his
village."

"Oh, no," cried Daniel, springing from his chair. "I hope you have not
already sent him to the ship. If so, let me hurry after him. I must see
my father's face again and embrace him. I trust you did not mean what
you said. Were my father the poorest and most unfortunate man in the
whole world, I would not be ashamed of him, for he is my father.
Everything that I have, I would share with him."

Daniel's own father had heard these words, in the adjoining room. He
stepped forward, rushed upon Daniel, and cried: "My son!" and Daniel
cried: "My father!" They embraced each other and their tears fell
freely.

CHAPTER VI

THE LEGACY

Mrs. Trent now invited all to partake of the evening meal. The
conversation became animated, and Mr. Trent was happy to find that his
guest was such a sensible, honest man. He then asked him how he happened
to take such a long trip.

Joseph Swift said that a legacy had been bequeathed to him, and that he
was on his way to a distant city to claim it. He had stopped at the
near-by port in order to break the monotony of the journey. "Before the
disaster that befell me," continued he, "I lived in comparative comfort,
but ever since I have been struggling. I was obliged to begin all over
again and build a new house and start a new business. You can easily
understand that I soon fell behind in money matters. The news of this
legacy was very welcome, for every little helps. Some difficulty,
however, has arisen, so I decided to go personally; and whether I shall
get the money or not, remains to be seen."

"I trust you have all the necessary papers and credentials with you."

"O yes," said Joseph, drawing out a wallet containing the papers, in
order to prove his words.

Mr. Trent looked them over and found them correct, but conjectured that
the outcome would be somewhat doubtful. Besides, when he took into
consideration the cost of the journey, living expenses, the cost of the
trial, he found that very little would remain of the legacy after all.

Mr. Trent, who was as noble as he was rich, said: "Do you know what I
think, my dear friend? The rest of this journey would be very tiresome
for you; and besides, you would have to remain there for some time
before you could claim the money. I will give you the sum stated, and
you can give me a power of attorney so that I can get the money. I can
then instruct my business manager in that city to look after this matter
for me."

Joseph Swift was delighted with the proposition, and took the proffered
money with the heartiest thanks; although he did not realize to its full
extent the thoughtfulness of this act.

Mrs. Trent, who was as kind-hearted as her husband, inquired after the
other members of Mr. Swift's family, and then said: "Now that you have
been spared the weariness of the rest of the journey, I beg you to spend
a week with us. Then Daniel may escort you home, and remain a few days
with you, and have the pleasure of meeting his mother and sisters and
brothers face to face."

Joseph declared that he had never met such good people, in all his life
and Daniel was overjoyed in the anticipation of seeing his mother.

"I feel I must give my mother and my sisters each a gift," said he. "How
pleased I am that I saved my money. Now I can use it for a good
purpose."

Early the next morning, Mrs. Trent and Daniel went forth to purchase the
gifts, and many a beautiful present did they bring back. Turning to Mr.
Swift, she said: "Here is a handsome gold watch which Daniel bought for
you, and also the material for a new suit of clothes. I have ordered the
tailor to come and take your measurements, and he promised to deliver
the suit in a week."

Poor Mr. Swift could hardly find words to express the thanks that filled
his heart.

But Mr. Trent, noticing his deep emotion, said: "Never mind, Mr. Swift,
let it be so. Why would God give some people more than they need, unless
he intended they should give some of it to those who didn't have enough?
Sharing with others, brings us happiness."

CHAPTER VII

THE JOURNEY

Early the following week Daniel and his father started on their journey.
The dog accompanied them and sat on the front seat of the carriage, next
to the driver.

As Mr. Swift neared his home, the linen lying in the bleachery was
plainly discernible, and the dog, recognizing the locality, leaped out
of the carriage. Mrs. Swift and her daughters were wetting the linens
and the two boys were busy in the vineyard. The dog ran up to his old
mistress, sprang at her joyously, and then ran to her daughters. They
were much surprised to see the dog that they had thought dead. The sons
joined the group, and while they stood discussing the dog's return, they
heard the toot of the tally-ho horn. Suddenly the horses galloped up to
the door and halted.

Said Mrs. Swift, "What can this mean? The driver must have made a
mistake." But in an instant Mr. Swift alighted and greeted his family
warmly.

Mrs. Swift's expression was very grave as she said: "What ever possessed
you to return in such a carriage; and now that I look at you, I see you
are dressed in new clothes from head to foot. Even the dog, for which I
suppose you paid a good price, has a new collar. I always looked upon
you as a better business man than that, I fear now that nothing remains
of the legacy. Most likely you lost your senses when you saw so much
money. If you begin by spending it so lavishly it will soon be gone."

Mr. Swift laughingly replied: "Don't be so sure, my dear. Let me unpack
the things. You will see that not a penny of the legacy is missing." He
opened the trunk which the coachman had just brought in, took out a bag,
and shook the golden contents upon the table.

"Oh, my," cried his wife in glee, "so much money! I never saw that much
in all my life. It dazzles me. It seems as if I were dreaming--But, tell
me, where did you get the clothing?"

"O, never mind, just yet; I haven't shown you all, for I have brought
material for new suits for you and all the children." He laid out the
goods, the velvets, and the laces upon the table, which was scarcely big
enough to hold them all.

"This is too much. My reason actually refuses to take it in. Do tell me,
how did you get these costly things?" continued his wife.

"All these things, my dear wife, have been presented to you by my
fellow-passenger," pointing his finger at Daniel, who had kept somewhat
aloof.

[Illustration: "As I notice it now you are dressed in new clothes from
head to foot."]

Mother and children had scarcely noticed him in their happiness, but all
the while Daniel had been enjoying their rapture.

The mother looked sharply at Daniel and said: "This young man brings us
all these things! Well, who is he?"

Mr. Swift bent his head and folded his hands; then he spoke with devout
earnestness: "This friendly young man is your son, our child, whom we
mourned as dead. A rich merchant and his good wife took him into their
home and heart."

Daniel could no longer restrain himself. He fell on the neck of his
new-found mother and embraced her tenderly. Then he greeted his brothers
and sisters heartily. The ecstacy of moments like these is indescribable.

At first, a little shyness existed between the brothers and sisters and
this long-lost brother. But as he was entirely without vanity and modest
and friendly, he soon won their confidence and respect, and they
conversed with him as naturally as if they had been with him always.

One morning the family mounted the hill to show Daniel the spot where
they had spent the night of terror.

"Yes," said the father, "in the morning light, we found that our house
had been swept away. In the face of all that disaster, I remember
saying: 'This dreadful calamity will yet bring us some blessing,' and so
it has happened. The people in the whole country around became more
industrious than they had been in the time of their prosperity. Many who
had been haughty and extravagant became humble, thrifty and moderate.
God awoke many people to the performance of good deeds. Many a family
quarrel was terminated; all the people became peace loving; each helped
the other in the hour of need.

"Who would have believed that we would again see our beloved child? Who
would have thought it possible that we, who once spent on this hill the
worst night of our lives, would live to spend upon it the happiest day.
Let us learn not to give up hope, no matter how bad the prospect may
seem, for better times will come--God will make all things right at
last."

In the course of time, when Mr. Trent knew to a certainty of Mr. Swift's
honesty, he gave him the position of treasurer in his large business
enterprises. This position was accepted, and Mr. Swift transferred his
bleachery and vineyard to the care of his eldest son. With his wife and
the other members of his family he then moved to a house adjacent to the
Trents.

Daniel became his foster-father's assistant, and proved himself worthy
of all the care which had been bestowed upon him; and he remained a
good, true, helpful son to his own and his foster-parents.

[Illustration]

The Damaged Picture

Chapters.

I. The Artist.

II. The Picture.

III. The Discovery.

THE DAMAGED PICTURE

Chapter I

The Artist

If one had been seeking for a man who combined all the qualities of
goodness and greatness, one would have chosen artist Laurier. He bore
the title of "Master of Arts" and his works, mostly landscapes, were
famous far and wide. He had amassed a considerable fortune, and his
house was the handsomest building in the city, equipped with every
luxury. Besides, it was the home in which all artists, rich or poor,
found welcome at all times.

But conditions changed. Hard times, following quickly in the wake of
recent wars, had made the demand for art, particularly painting, less
and less urgent, till there was no market whatever for the artist's
works. Little by little, he had to draw upon his capital in order to
support his family. However, he continued to paint with unabated
diligence, for he hoped with the betterment of the times to sell his
paintings; or if he should not be permitted to live so long, he would
leave them as a heritage, for the benefit of his wife and children.

Alas, the great man did not live to carry out his purpose. A contagious
disease swept over the country, numbering him among its victims; and he
intuitively felt that he would never again rise from his sick bed.

One morning, following a night filled with great pain and misgivings,
his dutiful wife was seated at his bedside trying to cloak the great
sorrow which she felt at his approaching death. His two little daughters
stood at the foot of his bed. The dying man looked tenderly at his wife
and children, and said: "Be comforted and weep not. True, I can bequeath
you but little; but God, the Father of the widow and orphans, will watch
over you." He then invoked God's blessing upon them, and with his last
breath said, "In heaven we shall meet again." His eyes closed and he
passed out of this life. Mother and daughters stood convulsed in tears.

The widow now found herself in very straightened circumstances. Her
house was so heavily mortgaged that she could no longer hold it. The
pictures which her husband had bequeathed to her were valuable as works
of art, but the widow could not realize their worth in money. Soon it
became imperative to sell them at auction, at any price. Before the day
set for the sale, mother and daughters saw, with anguish, these works
hurried off to the auction room. The house, too, fell under the hammer.
The poor, miserable family left the home in which they had lived for
many years in love, peace and contentment. Still, a certain pride and
satisfaction filled the widow's heart when she realized that, though her
husband had died poor, yet he owed no one a penny--that his name stood
in the community respected and revered by all the good people. The poor
particularly held him in loving memory.

The widow was obliged to seek a new home in a cheap section of the city.
She was an expert in all household arts, particularly in the art of
sewing. Each night found the widow busily engaged with her work, the
proceeds of which kept the wolf from the door.

Her two daughters, whom she had brought up with the utmost care, were
her only joy. They grew into beautiful girlhood, were modest and good,
and loved their mother with all the tenderness of devoted childhood.
They, too, helped with the sewing; and their combined efforts, though
feeble, were not without visible returns.

Mother and daughters often talked about their departed father. "It gives
me great pain," said the mother, "that every picture which your father
painted should have been taken from us. If it were but a little
landscape that we possessed, how happy I should be. It would enrich our
otherwise barren home and make it equal to the most beautiful salon of
the grandest castle."

Mother and daughters rarely went anywhere, but every Sunday found them
attendants at a church at the other end of the city. There, on those
sacred walls, hung a beautiful painting executed by their father. "This
indeed is exquisite work," said the mother, and the children fully
agreed with her sentiments.

When the services were ended they all slowly wended their way through
the city to their modest home. Sunday after Sunday, rain or shine, found
them carrying out the same program, always returning with hearts filled
with reverence and peace.

The long, weary winter nights were passed reading the books which their
father had collected during his lifetime, and which, by the merest
accident, had not been disposed of.

Thus they passed their days, quietly and contentedly, each one
cheerfully doing her daily share of good deeds and good works in this
great vineyard of the world, where we have all been placed to do our
best.

Chapter II

The Picture

One day, as the mother was examining the apparel, she turned to her
daughters and said: "Children, I see that your summer frocks are really
very much worn and faded. As we have saved a little more than we
expected, I feel that I want to reward you for your diligence and
willingness in helping me so faithfully and uncomplainingly, by giving
you each some money, with which to buy material for a few new dresses."
She then handed each daughter a hard-earned ten dollar bill, and said:
"Select what you wish, and we can make the dresses ourselves."

Both daughters were elated with this generous gift; and at once began to
argue with each other as to the shade and material which would be most
desirable, and which would also be most durable, from an economical
standpoint. At last they started out to make the purchases. Soon they
found themselves before a massive building, upon which was placed a
sign: "Auction Sale of Paintings." Both girls, as an artist's daughters,
had an inherited love for pictures.

"Shall we go in?" said Lottie, the elder, to Louise--"Not to buy, of
course; for how could we do that? But just to look at the beautiful
works."

They stepped timidly and modestly into the great gallery where several
gentlemen and many richly gowned ladies had already assembled. Lottie
and Louise remained unnoticed, standing not far from the door.

The auctioneer just then raised a picture to view, and cried: "A
landscape, in a handsome gold frame, by the artist Laurier--ten dollars
for the first bid."

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