A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by Edward Payson Roe (red seas under red skies .TXT) 📕

Sick Man. "Oh, That Does Me

Good! It'S Less Dark. It Seems To Me That I'Ve Got Hold Of A Hand That

Can Sustain Me."

 

 

 

"Bress De Lord!" Ejaculated an Old Negress Who Sat In a Distant Corner.

 

 

 

"I Install This Young Man As Your Nurse To-Night," Said Dr. Orton,

Huskily; "I'Ll Be Here In the Morning. Come, Little Girls, Go Now."

 

 

 

"We Shall Meet Again, Amy; We Shall Meet Again, Bertie, Darling;

Remember Papa Said It And Believed it."

 

 

 

Haldane Saw A Strange Blending Of Love And Terror In amy'S Eyes As She

Led her Little And Bewildered sister From The Room.

 

 

 

Dr. Orton Took Him One Side And Rapidly Gave His Directions. "His

Pulse," He Said, "Indicates That He May Be Violent During The Night; If

So, Induce Mrs. Poland To Retire, If Possible. I Doubt If He Lives Till

Morning." He Then Told Haldane Of Such Precautions As He Should Take For

His Own Safety, And Departed.

 

 

 

The Horrors Of That Night Cannot Be Portrayed. As The Fever Rose Higher

And Higher, All Evidence Of The Kind, Loving Husband And Father

Perished, And There Remained only A Disease-Tortured body. The Awful

Black Vomit Soon Set In. The Strong Physical Nature In its Dying Throes

Taxed haldane'S Powerful Strength To The Utmost, And Only By Constant

Effort And Main Force Could He Keep The Sufferer In his Bed. Mrs. Poland

And The Old Colored woman Who Assisted her Would Have Been Totally

Unequal To The Occasion. Indeed, The Wife Was Simply Appalled and

Overwhelmed with Grief And Horror, For The Poor Man, Unconscious Of All

Save Pain, And In accordance With A Common Phase Of The Disease, Filled

The Night With Unearthly Cries And Shrieks. But Before The Morning

Dawned, Instead Of Tossing and Delirium There Was The Calm Serenity Of

Death.

 

 

 

As Haldane Composed the Form For Its Last Sleep He Said:

 

 

 

"My Dear Mrs. Poland, Your Faithful Watch Is Ended, Your Husband Suffers

No More; Now, Surely You Will Yield To My Entreaty And Go To Your Room.

I Will See That Everything Is Properly Attended to."

 

 

 

The Poor Woman Was Bending Over Her Husband'S Ashes, Almost As

Motionless As They, And Her Answer Was A Low Cry As She Fell Across His

Body In a Swoon.

 

 

 

Haldane Lifted her Gently Up, And Carried her From The Room.

 

 

 

Crouching at The Door Of The Death-Chamber, Her Eyes Dilated with

Horror, He Found Poor Amy.

 

 

 

"Is Mother Dead Also?" She Gasped.

 

 

 

"No, Miss Amy. She Only Needs Your Care To Revive Speedily. Please Lead

The Way To Your Mother'S Apartment."

 

 

 

"I Think There Is A God, And That He Sent You" She Whispered.

 

 

 

"You Are Right," He Replied, In the Natural Hearty Tone Which Is So

Potent In reassuring The Terror-Stricken. "Courage, Miss Amy; All Will

Be Well At Last. Now Let Me Help You Like A Brother, And When Your

Mother Revives, I Will Give Her Something To Make Her Sleep; I Then Wish

You To Sleep Also."

 

 

 

The Poor Lady Revived after A Time, And Tried to Rise That She Might

Return To Her Husband'S Room, But Fell Back In utter Weakness.

 

 

 

"Mrs. Poland," Said Haldane Gently, "You Can Do No Good There. You Must

Live For Your Children Now."

 

 

 

She Soon Was Sleeping Under The Influence Of An Opiate.

 

 

 

"Will You Rest, Too, Miss Amy?" Asked haldane.

 

 

 

"I Will Try," She Faltered; But Her Large, Dark Eyes Looked as If They

Never Would Close Again.

 

 

 

Returning To The Room Over Which So Deep A Hush Had Fallen, Haldane Gave

A Few Directions To The Old Negress Whom He Left In charge, And Then

Sought The Rest He So Greatly Needed himself.

Chapter LI "O Priceless Life!"

When Haldane Came Down The Following Morning He Found Bertha Playing On

The Piazza As Unconscious Of The Loss Of Her Father As The Birds Singing

Among The Trees Of Their Master. Amy Soon Joined them, And Haldane Saw

That Her Eyes Had The Same Appealing and Indescribable Expression, Both

Of Sadness And Terror, Reminding One Of Some Timid And Beautiful Animal

That Had Been Brought To Bay By An Enemy That Was Feared inexpressibly,

But From Which There Seemed no Escape.

 

 

 

He Took Her Hand With A Strong And Reassuring Pressure.

 

 

 

"Oh," She Exclaimed with A Slight Shudder, "How Can The Sun Shine? The

Birds, Too, Are Singing as If There Were No Death And Sorrow In the

World."

 

 

 

"Only A Perfect Faith, Miss Amy, Can Enable Us, Who Do Know There Is

Death And Sorrow, To Follow Their Example."

 

 

 

"It'S All A Black Mystery To Me," She Replied, Turning away.

 

 

 

"So It Was To Me Once."

 

 

 

An Old Colored man, The Husband Of The Negress Who Had Assisted haldane

In His Watch, Now Appeared and Announced breakfast.

 

 

 

It Was A Comparatively Silent Meal, Little Bertha Doing Most Of The

Talking. Amy Would Not Have Touched a Mouthful Had It Not Been For

Haldane'S Persuasion.

 

 

 

As Soon As Bertha Had Finished, She Said To Haldane:

 

 

 

"Amy Told Me That You Did Papa Ever So Much Good Last Evening: Now I

Want To See Him Right Away."

 

 

 

"Does She Not Know?" Asked haldane In a Low Tone.

 

 

 

Amy Shook Her Head. "It'S Too Awful. What Can I Tell Her?" She Faltered.

 

 

 

"It Is Indeed inexpressibly Sad, But I Think I Can Tell The Child

Without Its Seeming awful To Her, And Yet Tell Her The Truth," He

Replied. "Shall I Try To Explain?"

 

 

 

"Yes, And Let Me Listen, Too, If You Can Rob The Event Of Any Of Its

Unutterable Horror."

 

 

 

"Will Bertie Come And Listen To Me If I Will Tell Her About Papa?"

 

 

 

The Child Climbed into His Lap At Once, And Turned her Large Blue Eyes

Up To His In perfect Faith.

 

 

 

"Don'T You Remember That Papa Spoke Last Night Of Leaving You; But Said

You Would Surely Meet Again?"

 

 

 

At This The Child'S Lip Began To Quiver, And She Said: "But Papa Always

Comes And Kisses Me Good-By Before He Goes Away."

 

 

 

"Perhaps He Did, Bertie, When You Were Asleep In your Crib Last Night."

 

 

 

"Oh Yes, Now I'M Sure He Did If He'S Gone Away, 'Cause I 'Member He Once

Woke Me Up Kissing Me Good-By."

 

 

 

"I Think He Kissed you Very Softly, And So You Didn'T Wake. Our Dear

Saviour, Jesus, Came Last Night, And Papa Went Away With Him. But He

Loves You Just As Much As Ever, And He Isn'T Sick Any More, And You Will

Surely See Him Again."

 

 

 

"Do You Think He Will Bring Me Something Nice When He Comes?"

 

 

 

"When You See Him Again He Will Have For You, Bertie, More Beautiful

Things Than You Ever Saw Before In all Your Life, But It May Be A Long

Time Before You See Him."

 

 

 

The Child Slipped down From His Knees Quite Satisfied and Full Of

Pleasant Anticipation, And Went Back To Her Play On The Piazza.

 

 

 

"Do You Believe All That?" Asked amy, Looking as If Bertha Had Been Told

A Fairy Tale.

 

 

 

"I Do, Indeed. I Have Told The Child What I Regard As The Highest Form

Of The Truth, Though Expressed in simple Language. Miss Amy, I Know That

Your Father Was Ever Kind To You. Did He Ever Turn Coldly Away From Any

Earnest Appeal Of Yours?"

 

 

 

"Never, Never," Cried the Girl, With A Rush Of Tears.

 

 

 

"And Can You Believe That His Heavenly Father Turned from His Touching

Appeal Last Night? Christ Said To Those Who Were Trusting In him, 'I

Will Come Again And Receive You Unto Myself; That Where I Am There Ye

May Be Also.' As Long As Your Father Was Conscious, He Was Clinging To

That Divine Hand That Has Never Failed one True Believer In all These

Centuries. Surely, Miss Amy, Your Own Reason Tells You That The Poor

Helpless Form That We Must Bury Today Is Not Your Father. The Genial

Spirit, The Mind That Was A Power Out In the World, The Soul With Its

Noble And Intense Affections And Aspirations--These Made The Man That

Was Your Father. Therefore I Say With Truth That The Man, The

Imperishable Part, Has Gone Away With Him Who Loved humanity, And Who

Has Prepared a Better Place For Us Than This Earth Can Ever Be Under The

Most Favoring Circumstances. You Can Understand That The Body Is But The

Changing, Perishing Shadow.

 

 

 

"When You Compare The Poor, Disease-Shattered house In yonder Room, With

The Regal Spirit That Dwelt Within It, When You Compare That Prostrate

Form--Which, Like A Fallen Tree In the Forest, Is Yielding To The

Universal Law Of Change--With The Strong, Active, Intelligent Man That

Was Your Father, Do Not Your Very Senses Assure You That Your Father Has

Gone Away, And, As I Told Bertha, You Will Surely See Him Again? It May

Seem To You That What I Said About The Good-By Kiss Was But A Fiction To

Soothe The Child, But In my Belief It Was Not. Though We Know With

Certainty So Little Of The Detail Of The Life Beyond, We Have Two Good

Grounds On Which To Base Reasonable Conjecture. We Know Of God'S Love;

We Know Your Father'S Love; Now What Would Be Natural In view Of These

Two Facts? I Think We Can Manage To Keep Bertha From Seeing That Which

Is No Longer Her Father, And Thus Every Memory Of Him Will Be Pleasant.

We Will Leave Intact The Impression Which He Himself Made When He Acted

Consciously, For This Which Now Remains Is Not Himself At All."

 

 

 

Further Conversation Was Interrupted by The Arrival Of Dr. Orton; But

Haldane Saw That Amy Had Grasped at His Words As One Might Try To Catch

A Rope That Was Being Lowered to Him In some Otherwise Hopeless Abyss.

 

 

 

"I Feared that Such Might Be The End," Said The Doctor, Gloomily, On

Learning From Haldane The Events Of The Night; "It Frequently Is In

Constitutions Like His." Then He Went Up And Saw Mrs. Poland.

 

 

 

The Lady'S Condition Gave Him Much Anxiety, But He Kept It To Himself

Until They Were Alone. After Leaving Quieting Medicines For Her With

Amy, And Breaking Utterly Down In trying To Say A Few Words Of Comfort

To The Fatherless Girl, He Motioned to Haldane To Follow Him.

 

 

 

"Come With Me To The City," He Said, "And We Will Arrange For Such

Disposal Of The Remains As Is Best."

 

 

 

Having Informed amy Of The Nature Of His Errand, And Promising To

Telegraph Mrs. Arnot, Haldane Accompanied the Physician To The Business

Part Of Town.

 

 

 

"You Have Been A Godsend To Them," Said The Kind-Hearted old Doctor,

Blowing His Nose Furiously. "This Case Comes A Little Nearer Home Than

Any That Has Yet Occurred; But Then The Bottom Is Just Falling Out Of

Everything, And It Looks As If We Would All Go Before We Have A Frost.

It Seems To Me, Though, That I Can Stand Anything Rather Than See Amy

Go. She Is Engaged to A Nephew Of Mine--As Fine A Fellow As There Is In

Town, If I Do Say It, And I Love The Girl As If She Were My Own Child.

My Nephew Is Travelling In europe Now, And I Doubt If He Knows The

Danger Hanging Over The Girl. If Anything Happens To Her It Will About

Kill Him, For He Idolizes Her, And Well He May. I'M Dreadfully Anxious

About Them All. I Fear Most For Mrs. Poland'S Mind. She'S A New England

Lady, As I Suppose You Know--Wonderfully Gifted woman, Too Much Brain

Power For That Fragile Body Of Hers. Well, Perhaps You Did Not

Understand All That Was Said Last Night; But Mrs. Poland Has Always Been

A Great Reader, And She Has Been Carried away By The Materialistic

Philosophy That'S In fashion Nowadays. Queer, Isn'T It? And She

Two-Thirds Spirit Herself. Her Husband And My Best Friend Was As Genial

And Whole-Souled a Man As Ever Lived, Fond Of A Good Dinner, Fond Of A

Joke, And Fond Of His Family To Idolatry. His Wife Had Unbounded

Influence Over Him, Or Otherwise He Might Have Been A Little Fast; But

He Always Laughed at What He Called her 'Yankee Notions,' And Said He

Would Not Accept Her Philosophy Until She Became A