Summerfield Part 21

"I should have been tempted to worship him. Words could not have told my grat.i.tude and love," said Mrs. Fabens.

"Then, think what sufficing joy we should take to our souls," said Fabens, "and what thanks of worship we should give our G.o.d and Redeemer, for the a.s.surance that he will be brought to our bosom in all the youthful bloom of heaven, never more to wander from us, never more to suffer, never more to sorrow, never more to die!"

"But for that blessed hope," said Mrs. Fabens, with a flush of lofty feeling lighting all her features--"but for that blessed hope, I should be a maniac, I know I should, at this moment."

"What could have become of the pretty precious boy?" asked Fabens, as a tear rolled over each cheek. "Can he be alive? I often think of the little fawn, and mother's dying words. O, the terrible mystery! Will it never be solved on earth?--The Lord's will be done!"

"I remember just how he looked the last time I saw him," said Uncle Walter, wiping his eyes. "I fingered his crinkling curls, and said--'What does Uncle Walter want of Clintie?' 'A kiss,' cried the little beauty, and threw his soft arms around my old neck, opened hit lips, like sweet-pea blossoms, and planted a rousing smack on my chin.

Then, I caught him in my arms, kissed his velvet cheeks, chanked his fat neck, chuckled under his chin, and called him a bobolink; and he made all ring again with his merry bobolink laugh. That was the last time I saw him."

"He was a dear boy," sighed Fabens.

"Too dear, too dear to die as he did. O, Lord, continue thy comfort!"

sobbed Mrs. Fabens.

The conversation was then interrupted, for it was announced that the couple were ready to appear for the ceremony as soon as the guests could be called into the north room. The guests gathered in, and took their seats, more than filling the room. Then entered the bridegroom, leading as bright a blooming beauty of a bride, as your dainty eyes would choose to see; and they seated themselves where nearly all the company had the blessing of a view of their joyful looks. Uncle Walter declared, that the sight was feast enough for him, and he should have no appet.i.te after that for supper. Colwell thought it was lighter and more summer-like in the room than before.

Then, when every breath and pulse were so hushed, that nothing but silence itself filled all ears,--Father Lovelight begged leave to perform a ceremony before the marriage one. It would not be a great interruption, and he hoped it might heighten, and not dampen their joys. And leading in the stranger, he said, "Mr. and Mrs. Fabens, the gentleman I hold by the hand, revealed to me a mystery last night, which I am not unhappy now to disclose. Your prayers are answered.

Your joy is complete. Receive your lost son. Clinton returns in joy to your arms!"

"Has heaven been opened so soon?" cried Fabens, standing like a statue.

"It cannot be Clinton, but, only my dream of him!" cried Mrs. Fabens, clasping her hands, and looking amazed.

"Believe me, madam, it is your own dear son," said Father Lovelight.

"Father!" cried the stranger.

"Clinton!" cried Fabens, rushing to embrace him.

"My child! my dear, dear child!" cried Mrs. Fabens, falling in his arms.

"O, father!--mother!--sister!" cried the stranger, as the loving three contended to clasp him closest to each heart.

"Is it my brother, or my mother's dream I hold!--It must, it must be he! O, we will be happy now!" cried f.a.n.n.y, embracing all of that precious form she could extort from her father and mother.

"I will have at least one hand--my brother's hand!" cried George Ludlow, grasping his left hand and pressing it warmly.

"It is he!--it is Clinton! I know this face--these eyes! I do not dream! It is not heaven has opened. Clinton's alive, and mother's word fulfilled!" cried Fabens, pressing the stranger closer to his heart.

"Merciful heavens! what can this mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Nimblet.

"It is amazing strange!" replied Mr. Nimblet.

"I'll have one grab at him, any way," cried Uncle Walter, making for the hand, so warmly clasped by George Ludlow.

"So'll I! So'll I, and take pay and interest for my four days' hunt,"

cried Wilson.

"I loved to kiss him, too; and where is my part?" cried Aunt Huldah, joining in the group.

"And mine!" "and mine!" cried Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Colwell.

"Gracious alive! what's comin' to pa.s.s?--Good! good! good! if it's Clintie--but, O, I fear now, that Tillson's in fault--I fear!"

exclaimed Mrs. Troffater, seeming to be shocked with some new suspicion of her husband.

"Bring water! bring water! Mrs. Fabens is faint!" cried Mrs. t.e.e.zle, and Mrs. Troffater brought water, and her mind and strength were restored, while she exclaimed, "too good! too good, I fear! too good to be true!" and "just right! just right in the nick o' time!" replied Uncle Walter.

Others attempted to edge in their hand and word of joy, who were crowded back by those before them. It was no dream. It was their own worshipped Clinton in their arms. And it remains only for the present to relate, that the marriage ceremony, though delayed longer than any one was aware, till Father Lovelight at last gave the hour, was still performed, and rare and high was the joy that made Uncle Walter forget his story, and Mrs. Flaxman her song; and was carried on by that glorious company full to the very midnight.

Tilly Troffater had bitterly repented the crime of the boy's abduction, to which he was accessary, and he received not a moment's respite from the tortures of h.e.l.l, that tore his anguished heart, till he heard where Clinton remained; went, and informed him of his parents, and home, and directed his steps to that door. But the young man's story is reserved for another volume, on another labor of life.