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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George hesitated a moment. Then, as if it had suggested some new idea to
him, he agreed, with the understanding that he would be the host on that
occasion, and that he would reserve the rights to invite a few of his
old friends. He also requested that the feast be postponed for two
weeks, as he wished to pass that time quietly, out of respect to his
father.

CHAPTER V

THE FEAST

The day that was to be crowned by a night of joy at last arrived. Late
that afternoon, George Acton called upon his friends, the Richmonds and
invited them for a walk. Lucy begged for a few moments in which to
change her dress, but George dissuaded her, saying that her simple frock
of beautiful white linen could not be improved upon.

After strolling leisurely for some time, they came to the cemetery. "Let
us go in," said George, "and visit my father's grave."

Lucy felt awkward, for she feared that he would consider the planting of
the bush as audacious on her part, but she said nothing. He stepped
toward the grave and held his hat in his hand. All were silent. Only the
breeze sighed through the trees, and scattered here and there a leaf or
flower upon the grave. Every eye was wet with tears.

"Lucy," said George, turning toward her, "the first bit of comfort that
came to my heart after I learned of my father's death, was the sight of
this bush, planted here by your hands. I always respected your high and
worthy thoughts and I have learned now to respect them even more. Were
my dear father living, I would lead you to him, and say that next to him
I cared most for you, and ask him to give us his benediction. But, now I
lead you to his grave, which to you as well as to me, is holy ground,
and here I ask you to give me your hand, that I may care for you and
protect you while I live; and I will ask your parents for their
blessing."

Mr. Richmond, quickly recovering himself from his surprise, said: "My
boy, remember that you have millions and that my daughter is penniless."

"Your daughter's kind heart is worth more than millions." He then broke
a flower, and placing it in Lucy's hair, said: "This flower with which
Lucy decorated my father's grave, represents her dower. My dear Mr.
Richmond, add your blessings."

Recognizing George's earnestness, then Mr. Richmond said: "God bless
you, my children, and may He keep you as happy, as He has made us all
this day."

Silent and engrossed in deep thought, they approached George Acton's
house. "Here," said he, "I am expected. It grieves me that I must spend
this night in the company of relatives who have dealt so cruelly with
you, my good people, whom I love so dearly. But I must remain, for I
have given my word; and you must all accompany me."

With Lucy at his side, followed by the Richmond family, George Acton
stepped into the brilliantly illuminated room, which was gorgeously
decked with flowers. They were greeted by soft strains of sweet music.
The Bonds were all prepared with flattering speeches, but the sight of
the Richmond family surprised them as greatly as George Acton's return
had done, and words failed them.

"They have complained to him," whispered Mr. Bond, "and so he has
dragged them here in their shabby clothes. Such impertinence on their
part."

George stepped forward into the ball-room and beckoned to the musicians
to stop. The guests had risen by this time, and stood about him in a
circle.

Mr. Bond then addressed George saying: "I know why you come with these
good people. Probably, it is on account of the law-suit which I have
brought. It gives me great pain to think that any difference or
ill-feeling exists between Mr. Richmond and myself, but I shall certainly
call off the law-suit and I will pay him the money which belongs to him,
this very night." Turning to his servant, he said: "Summon my
book-keeper, at once."

"Don't bother any further about it," said George, "for it is no longer a
matter which concerns you, but me. I will see to it that Mr. Richmond's
rights are restored to him. It was not for that purpose that I brought
him here. I have an entirely different object in view. Where do you
think we have been? We come, just as we are, from the grave of my
beloved father."

Mr. Bond felt embarrassed and said: "Oh, I feel very much disturbed that
the idea of giving your father a tomb-stone has never been carried out,
but the stone-cutter disappointed me so often."

Then his daughter took up the thread of the conversation and said: "Yes,
we regret so much that this delay has arisen, for only two days ago I
visited your father's grave, and thought how beautiful a monument would
look there, if it were chiseled from Carrara marble."

"If you were there but two days ago," said George, "then you must have
noticed that it has a tombstone, though not of marble. How did it please
you?"

She paled and began to stammer: "I was--I don't know--it must have--"

Then followed a painful silence which was broken by George saying: "It
is evident that you never visited the grave. However, that monument has
stood there several months.

"It pains me deeply, Mr. Bond, that you did not consider my father, who
so generously enriched you, worthy of a slight token of your thanks. Let
me tell you that this night my relationship to you changes."

Turning to the other members of the party, George said: "I notice in
this gathering many true friends of my father who loved me and esteemed
me as a boy. I feel gratified that you have come to celebrate my return.
But I must tell you that this celebration has a double purpose; for this
is the night on which I present to you my future wife--Lucy Richmond.
She it was who planted the flowering bush on the grave of my father,
never dreaming that it would be recognized by any one. But I think more
of that flower, than of all the riches of the world."

His friends came forward and with hearty cheers cried: "Long live George
Acton and his bride."

"Now," said he, "as this house and all the fortune of which Mr. Bond
still holds the greatest share, falls again to me, I take upon myself
the rights of host, and heartily invite all those who are my friends, to
spend the rest of the night in celebration of this threefold event: My
return, the restoration of my fortune and Lucy to share it."

One by one, the Bond family quietly slipped out of the room.

Later in the evening, during the feast, Mr. Richmond offered a toast to
the health and happiness of George and his daughter, and ended by
saying: "Noble purposes and noble thoughts are the only foundation for
happiness; and yield at all times buds and blossoms unnumbered."

HOW IT HAPPENED

CHAPTERS.

I. THE WOODED ISLAND

II. FAR FROM HOME.

III. THE SMOKE.

[Illustration: "As soon as David saw that the boat was firm on the rocks
he hurried out."]

HOW IT HAPPENED

CHAPTER I

THE WOODED ISLAND

In a quaint little cottage not far from the sea-coast, David Duval first
saw the light of day. His father, a very industrious man, supported his
family by making willow baskets, and his children, as they grew able,
helped him considerably. David, the oldest child, was the father's
favorite, for he showed great skill in his work, was quick and obliging
and rendered his father considerable assistance. Although David gave
promise of being a great man some day, yet he had a very grave fault,
and this was his headstrong will. He always wanted to have his own way
in everything, would never yield to another's rights, and his parents
found great difficulty in teaching him to obey orders. His sisters, too,
suffered much from his bad temper and from his overbearing manner.

His rich uncle, Philip, gave him many invitations to dine with him.
David enjoyed nothing better than to have the feasts which his uncle
provided, but they made him dissatisfied with the simple fare of his own
modest little home. He grumbled all the while he was eating in his own
house, and did not think it worth while to thank God or his parents for
his food.

When he was reminded of his faults, he would promise to do better, but
in a little while he would fall back to his old ways. This saddened his
parents and they thought that the fond hopes which they held for his
future would all be blasted.

His uncle would often say to him: "David, David, take care! God will yet
send you to a special school, the 'School of Experience,' where He will
discipline you, in order to make something good of you."

From the hill upon which David's house stood, one could see a vast
expanse of water. A little island which lay not far from the coast lent
beauty to the scene by its wealth of verdure. No one lived upon it and
David's father visited it, from time to time, in order to gather willow
branches for his basket weaving.

David, who was now strong enough to help his father row and also to cut
down the branches, often accompanied him. One night his father said to
him: "If the sky and the sea stay propitious, we will both row over to
the island in the morning." David leaped for joy, and the prospect of
the trip would hardly let him sleep.

At dawn on the following day, as the sky began to glow and the morning
star grew paler and paler, David stood ready. He helped his mother carry
food and wraps into the little boat. It had once happened that the
weather had suddenly changed, and David and his father had been obliged
to remain on the island for three days, suffering much for the want of
food and covering; therefore, mother took the precaution to give them a
pot, a pan and some matches, so that they could start a fire and cook
something, if necessary.

As everything was now in readiness for the trip, David took his straw
hat, while his sister playfully pinned a feather in the ribbon.

"Oh," said his father; "get a couple of baskets, David; we'll need
them."

"What for?" asked David.

"You'll find that out soon enough," said his father, laughingly. "Don't
you trust that I well know to what use I will put them? You do the same
to me, as many people do to their Father in heaven. They always want to
know why this or that was ordered. Do what I tell you, and in the end it
will come out all right." David then hurried and brought back the
baskets.

They both seated themselves in the boat, and pushed from the shore.
Mother and daughter called after them: "A pleasant trip and a happy
return." David vied with his father in rowing, and it made him so warm
that he took off his coat.

Soon they reached the island and made a landing, while David tied the
boat to a tree stump. They hurried toward the willow trees, cut the
branches, tied them together in bundles and carried them to the little
boat. The father was delighted with David's helpfulness, and said: "That
is right; children should help their parents as much as their strength
will permit."

When they had gathered as many branches as were needed, the father said:
"Now, let us rest a while and eat some lunch. After labor, rest is
sweet, and one's food tastes so much better." When the meal was ended,
the father said: "Now I want to give you another pleasure. Get the
baskets and follow me." Soon they came to a beautiful walnut tree, whose
branches, spreading far out on all sides, were laden with nuts. David
was overjoyed at this sight, as he had never seen the tree before. He at
once filled his pockets with nuts and tried to crack one with his teeth
and get at the kernel. "Father," said he, "why did God put the sweet nut
between two shells, a bitter and a hard one?"

"My dear boy," said his father, "God had the wisest purpose for doing
this. He wanted to protect the sweet kernel, out of which such a
beautiful tree could grow and save it from the gnawing animals. This
teaches us how to take the bitter and hard trials of this life. As we do
not despise or throw away this sweet nut, because it has a bitter and a
hard shell, so we must not resent the sorrows and disagreeable
situations that come to us. The first experience we feel is that sorrows
are bitter and hard, but we must trust that the good and sweet kernel
which they have hidden within them will come to light at last, and will
be not only of use, but also a blessing to us."

The father then climbed the tree and began to shake it. David gathered
the nuts which rained down and put them into the baskets, which he
carried to the boat, where he emptied them, returning many times for
more.

"How your mother will rejoice when she sees these nuts," said the
father, "and what shouts of joy we'll hear from your sisters when I
divide them. The thought of it pleases me now, for certainly there is no
joy greater than that of giving pleasure to others."

While David and his father were busy with their work, there crept over
the heavens heavy black clouds. Then there arose a dreadful wind storm,
just as David stood in the boat emptying his last basket of nuts. The
wind bent the trees and raised the waters into high waves. All at once,
a blast came, tore the boat from its moorings and took it far out to
sea.

David cried loudly, in horror. His frightened father hurried to the
shore and saw the boy in the boat, in the far distance. The waves
increased in size and soon the little boat could be seen, first on the
crest and then hidden in the trough. It was carried rapidly along.

The father saw his boy wringing his hands, but of his cries he could
hear nothing, for the sound of the roaring waters and rushing wind
drowned them.

The entire sky was now enveloped in black clouds and dark night hovered
over the sea. Flashes of lightning illuminated the heavens and dreadful
crashes of thunder filled the air. Seeing no more of his son or of the
boat, the father sank disheartened under the willow tree and spent the
night alone with his grief.

Meanwhile, his wife and other children were distracted with fear. As the
lightning broke forth, followed by thunderous crashes, and the island
was shrouded in rain, they prayed for the absent ones. When the storm
abated, they gazed long and patiently, in the hopes of getting a signal
of the returning boat. They saw and heard nothing. The mother spent the
night in sleepless anxiety.

As the morning broke forth in beautiful sunshine, and still no sign of
the little boat could be seen, the mother's fears grew greater and
greater. She ran crying to Philip, and told him her troubles. He knit
his brow and shook his head. "It is strange that they have not come back
yet. I'll just row over and see what has happened to them." He stepped
into his boat lying close at anchor, and, with his assistant, rowed over
to the little island. Mother and children stood watching them in anxiety
and dread.

At last, they saw the little boat, in the distance, returning with its
load. "Oh thanks," cried the mother. "Philip has other passengers in the
boat, besides his assistant. Now, it is all right." She hurried down to
the shore, but as the boat neared them she cried in fright: "Where is my
David?" The father, deathly pale, looked at her in silence. His deep
grief had made him dumb. Uncle Philip then spoke to her: "May God
comfort you, for our David has been drowned in the sea. Poor David had
his faults, but he was a good-hearted boy."

The mother could find no comfort and the children cried.

CHAPTER II

FAR FROM HOME

While David was being wept over as dead, he still lived. He had had a
dreadful shock, riding on the tumultuous waves, far, far out to sea. His
boat, over which the waves had dashed in fury, threatened each moment to
sink. At last, after hours and hours of torture, the wind drove his boat
upon the coast of a rocky island.

As soon as David was sure that the boat was firm on the rocks, he
hurried out, waded through the foaming, shallow water to the land and
climbed up the rocks, while his clothes dripped with rain and sea water.

After he had recovered a little from his shock and fear, he gazed out at
his little boat and wondered how it had been so well guided into the
clefts of the rocks. A good sailor could have made no better landing.
"Who steered this rudderless boat so safely into this haven? God's great
goodness and mercy has certainly led me to this safety, and all my life
I shall be grateful."

The storm had now been broken and the rain ceased. David thought he
could see the green island, with its trees but it seemed no bigger than
a bush, that he could easily have covered with his straw hat. The land,
still farther away, seemed to touch the horizon, and it looked like a
little cloud.

"Oh," cried David, "how dreadfully far I am from human help. This
island, on which I have been cast, cannot be seen by my people; I never
saw it when I looked out to sea. They will never think that I am here
and they will mourn me as dead. The men will go and get my father, but
no one will come for me. I have often heard them say, 'for fifty miles
out, there is no sign of land.'"

The waters, little by little, grew calmer, so David hurried down to his
boat; but, as he was about to step into it, he noticed that it had
sprung a leak. "Oh," cried he, "my little boat is useless now, and I am
a prisoner on this rocky island. I must stay here till I die and never
again shall I see my people." His face grew white with fear and the
tears rolled down his cheeks.

As David saw starvation staring him in the face, he collected the nuts
that were in the boat, put them into the baskets and carried them to
safety, where he also placed the few utensils that had not been washed
overboard. Then he pulled his little boat as far up on the rocks as he
could get it.

The fear through which he had passed had now exhausted him. He felt
almost afraid to sleep, out in the open, all alone, but he prayed his
evening prayer as he had been accustomed to, lay down beside his nuts
and his few kitchen utensils, and soon was fast asleep. After a restless
night, filled with many strange dreams of home, he was awakened by the
noise of sea birds, fluttering overhead. As he gazed before him and saw
nothing but the boundless sea, he uttered a loud cry.

A bevy of birds flew toward the land. "Oh, dear birds, I wish you could
carry a message to my people and tell them that I am here. My good
father and uncle would risk their lives to get me."

After he had breakfasted on a few nuts and a little piece of bread, he
decided to examine the island. "Perhaps I shall find some fruit trees
that will afford me nourishment till God delivers me from this
captivity; and maybe I shall find some people living here who will take
me to my home."

He wrapped a few pieces of bread and nuts in his handkerchief, tied the
bundle to the end of a stick, slung it over his shoulder and started
forth. It was a dangerous, weary journey that gave no signs of human
life. Nor did he see any of the narrow paths usually made by animals.
Numberless trees were there, but none that bore fruit.

"If I have to stay long on this island, I'll die of starvation," said
he, as the perspiration rolled down his cheeks. "But before hunger kills
me, I know I'll die from thirst." As he continued his way, he heard a
murmuring sound, like that of water. He hurried in the direction of the
sound, and found a little spring, cold and clear as crystal. He seated
himself beside it to cool off, and then drank to his heart's content. He
had never before noticed what a blessing from God water really is; but
now he appreciated the drink and offered his thanks for it.

He proceeded on his way, and at last reached the highest point of the
island. It filled him with dread, as he saw the entire island covered
with trees, and lying there, at his very feet and on every side--the
immeasureable sea. Now he realized that he was all alone and far from
help. "I will come to this point every day and watch. Perhaps a passing
steamer will pick me up and take me home."

The sun began to sink and colored the heavens with gold-rimmed rays of
purple and red. As David stood gazing at the beauties of the sky which
he had never before noticed, he prayed to the Creator to send him help
and guide some ship to this lonely island. Then he descended the rocks
and retraced his steps. Soon he lay down under a clump of trees and fell
fast asleep. When he awoke, he ate a few nuts and some bread.

Each day he wandered to the rocky summit and watched for a ship. But all
in vain, for on the great, wide sea no ship was to be seen. He saw the
necessity of eating sparingly, or his food would not last; so he took
his little knife and made cuts across his bread, showing how much he
could eat daily, and only when he was very hungry. The little piece of
bread had become very hard and he had to soften it in the water from the
spring.

"Oh," cried he, "how many good things I had at my father's table, that I
grumbled about and for which I never thanked God." As he sat thinking
about himself and all his ingratitude, he saw the fishes swimming in the
water. "I'd catch some fish," said David, "if I only had a line."
Picking up his straw hat, he ripped out the thread, and taking the pin
with which his sister had fastened the feather, he made a hook out of it
and tied the thread to it. He searched for some worms, and soon, he
began to angle. He tried again and again, but not a nibble could he get.
At last luck favored him, and soon he had three fishes. Remembering the
matches which his mother had put into the tin-covered pail, he decided
to start a fire and cook his fish, adding a little salty water for
seasoning. He relished this little repast more than the finest feast
served at his rich uncle's house.

One morning, as he again ascended the rocky summit, he saw a large ship
that seemed no more than a mile away. Its sails were all unfurled and
gilded with the rays of the bright sun. Hope filled his breast and he
trembled with fear. He watched it, as it came nearer and nearer.
Suddenly, he seized a stick, and tying his red handkerchief to it, moved
it to and fro like a signal of danger and distress. But before the ship
had come close enough to see the sign, it changed its direction and
sailed away into the far distance. David followed its course, till it
was lost to view, and then he sank upon the ground disheartened and
cried bitterly.

The hours of the day that were not used in fishing, cooking, or
chopping, he spent gathering shells, in which he often found pearls. As
no person had ever been there to gather them, he found them in
quantities. Then, too, he found many beautiful corals in the
moss-covered rocks. "If God permits me to return to my people," said he,
"I will bring them these pearls and corals, as presents."

He spent his time as best he could and often sighed for companionship.
For hours he would gaze at the friendly moon, at which he had never
before gazed more than a second. And the twinkling stars, too, seemed to
have a new meaning for him. "The heavens truly show God's wonderful
work," said David. Even the delicate green moss that he had never
deigned to notice now had its value, since it afforded him a soft bed.
"I see God's finger in everything about me," said he. "How well
everything has been ordered." Good thoughts were now awaking in his mind
and they were, like wings, carrying his heart to heaven.

"Loneliness must be sent for a good reason," thought he. "Perhaps God
sent me to this dreary, lonely place to make me see and feel what I
never understood before." David realized now that he had never been
grateful to his parents for their care. Nor as obedient to their wishes
as he should have been.

"Oh, if I ever get back to my home, I will be grateful and obedient to
my parents." He remembered, too, how disagreeable he had often been to
his sisters, and said: "Oh, how sorry I am. If God lets me return I will
ask their forgiveness and be a good brother to them. I never appreciated
my home, my parents, nor my sisters. God forgive me and let me return,
and I will try to repay them in kindness and love for all my
negligence."

An intense longing for his people filled David's heart; and it grew
stronger every minute. Each day he watched for ships and often sighted
one, but they never neared the island. At last he came to the conclusion
that the coast was rocky and dangerous, and so no ship would ever come
near it.

With this sad thought, he was retracing his steps one day, carrying some
wood to his little retreat. But what a terror seized him. He saw in the
direction of his little retreat thick, black, clouds of smoke ascending
to the heavens, and two red flaming brands of fire, like two church
spires. David had often heard of islands that were volcanic and sent
forth fire, and now he thought that this was one. He threw his wood to
the ground and with palpitating heart drew closer and closer: but all he
could see was smoke and flames. The crackling of the fire filled him
with more fear. At last he saw that it was not from the earth that the
fire issued. He realized that the wind had blown the flames of his
little fire, which he always kept lighted, against some bushes and had
set them on fire. Almost everything he owned was being destroyed and two
immense trees were being consumed.

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