Part 15 (1/2)
”Yes, sir; oh, yes, sir!”
”And will you follow my advice to the letter, and do just what I tell you to do in this matter?”
”Yes, sir; I will.”
”Well, then,” said Sharpman, turning to Craft, ”I think I'll trust the boy, and I'll a.s.sist you in your bonds. I know that we both have his interest at heart, and I believe that, together, we can restore his rights to him, and place him in the way of acceptance by his family.
Ralph,” turning again to the boy, ”you ought to be very thankful to have found two such good friends as Mr. Craft and myself.”
”Yes, sir, I am. You'll do everything you can for me, won't you? as quick as you can?”
”Oh, yes! Mr. Craft will be your guardian, and I will be his bondsman and lawyer. Now, I think we understand each other, and I guess that's all for to-night.”
”When do you want me to come again?”
”Well, I shall want you to go to Wilkesbarre with me in a few days, to have the appointment of guardian made; but I will send for you. In the meantime you will keep on with your work as usual, and say nothing to any person about what we have told you. You'll do that, won't you?”
”Yes, sir, I will. But, Uncle Billy--can't I tell him? he'll be awful glad to know.”
”Well, yes, you may tell Billy, but charge him to keep it a profound secret.”
”Oh! he will, he will; he'll do anything like that 'at I ask 'im to.”
Ralph picked up his cap and turned to go; he hesitated a moment, then he crossed the room to where old Simon still sat, and, standing before him, he said:--
”I'm sorry you're sick, Gran'pa Simon. I never meant to do wrong by you. I'll try to do w'at's right, after this, anyway.”
The old man, taken by surprise, had no answer ready; and Sharpman, seeing that the situation was likely to become awkward, stepped forward and said: ”Oh! I've no doubt he'll be all we can desire now.”
He took the boy's hand, and led him toward the door. ”I see my clerk has gone,” he said; ”are you afraid to go home alone?”
”Oh, no! It's moonlight; an' besides, I've gone home alone lot's o'
nights.”
”Well, good luck to you! Good-night!”
”Good-night!”
The office door closed behind the boy, and he went out into the street and turned toward home.
The moon was bright and full, and a delicate mist hung close to the earth. It was a very beautiful night. Ralph thought he had never seen so beautiful a night before. His own footsteps had a musical sound in his ears, as he hurried along, impatient to reach Bachelor Billy, and to tell to him the wonderful news,--news so wonderful that he could scarcely realize or comprehend it. Mr. Sharpman said he would be going back home to-night with a heart as light as a feather. And so he was, was he not? He asked his heart the question, but, somehow, it would not say yes. There was a vague uneasiness within him that he could not quite define. It was not because he doubted that he was Mrs. Burnham's son; he believed that fact implicitly. It was not so much, either, that he could not go to her at once; he could wait for that if the end would only surely bring it. But it seemed to him that he was being set up in a kind of opposition to her; that he was being placed in a position which might lead to an estrangement between them: and that would be a very sad result, indeed, of this effort to establish his ident.i.ty. But Mr. Sharpman had a.s.sured him that Mrs. Burnham approved of the action that was about to be taken in his behalf. Why, then, should he fear? Was it not absurd to cloud his happiness with the dread of something which would never come? Away with doubts! away with fears! he would revel, for to-night at least, in the joy of his new knowledge. Mrs. Burnham was his mother; was not that beautiful, beautiful? Could he, in his wildest flight of fancy or desire, have ever hoped for more than that? But there was something more, and that something was that Robert Burnham was his father. Ah! that was, beyond all question, the highest honor that could ever rest upon a boy,--to be the son of a hero! Ralph threw back his head and shoulders with instinctive, honest pride as this thought filled his mind and heart, and his quick step grew more elastic and more firm as he hurried on along the moonlit path.
He was out beyond the city limits now, climbing the long hill toward home. He could see Burnham Breaker, standing out in majestic proportions, black and clear-cut against the moon-illumined sky.
By and by the little mining village came into view, and the row of cottages, in one of which the Widow Maloney lived; and finally the light in Bachelor Billy's window. When Ralph saw this he broke into a run, and sped swiftly along the deserted street, with the whole glad story of his parentage and his prospects crowding to his tongue.
Billy was still sitting by the fire when the boy burst into the room; but he had fallen asleep, and his clay pipe had dropped from his fingers and lay broken on the hearth.
”Uncle Billy! oh, Uncle Billy! what do you think?”