Litchfield enquirer., 1877-01-18
WHOLE NO. 2e42.

| about 1t; ten chances to one his bones are bleaching out there now. It ain't half so easy to get back as to go. He swore he'd come, and what Mat under took in that line, he generally put through; but he was pretty well caved, his right leg dragged little, and a rat tlin' cough stuck to him night and day. He started on the trail and left me clean behind; but deacon, think he's slipped out, do indeed"
 Something in the face of the old dea- con touched and went far to terrify the old miner. It was scanned and haggard and gray.
 The people in PGmpton Centre thought it fine thing to see the deacon go up the main street leaning upon the arm of that miserable Dobson. ... s
 .'That's true piety," they said, and dof- fed their hats reverently to the poor old gentleman. That night the deacon was no longer able to take the cup of tea from the hand of his daughter. She went up to his room with it, and held it to his lips, and looked down upon him with her cold keen eyes.
 ''What night is it, BessP" he said. ''I heard the church bell bit ago."
 ''It IS Christmas night, father"
 "Go down, Bess, go down, and bid Betty build the Christmas fire upon the hearth. Bid her get out the blackberry wine. Some one may need the warmth and cheer to night"
 '"You are best in bed, father."
 "Ay, but go down as I bid you, Bess; make it bright and warm below there. :"
 When Elizabeth returned to her father, he held out to her his shaking hand.
 "How old are you to day?" he said Chow old, Bess, God help me. how old?"
 "Thirty-seven years, father," she said, and smiled bitterly.
 "And can't you get bit warm with the Christmas fire Bess, and Betty's wine? It's the day our Savior was born to save miserable sinners. You are so cold and white, Bess; poor sister Nan, can't be much whiter ard colder, though she's been ghost this many year, since ever Matthew Gorse was born."
 At the sound of that name Elizabeth's eyellds fell. A shudder crept through her frame. Something that had been dead within her sprung to life with birth pang of sinister joy.
 "It's a cold hearth-stone," muttered her father; "a lonely one this many year. Keep the Christmas fire bright, Bess; he may come home at any time. I've righted him in my will. You won't grudge him the money, Bess? did him foul wrong"
 Here he raised him on his elbow and looked pleadingly in her face. Father, said Elizabeth, in a harsh strained voice, didn't Matthew Gorse take my money and run away with it?'
 "No, no. no, said the old man. and fell back upon the bed. "He sent it back to you with message, Bess. I'd ha' told you long ago, but l got more scared of you; but he told me to tell you for your sweet sake-for your sweet sake -"
 'Oh, my Godr' said Elizabeth, and fell on her knees by the bedside. Then Obadiah fell into broken sobs and exclamations, and told her all. Obadiah Truepenny died that night. and when upon the day of the funeral the VIII VII was read. the people of tL..g9 .g9limntan tI.:.,s- .:.a> f.r nqan,n Truepenny to leave half ms fortune to that scapegrace of @ neph. CIV, Matthew Gorse.
 Time rolled on, however, and Matthew did not come to claim his inheritance. Every night the ruddy glow from Miss Truepenny's sitting-room windows gleam- ed across the way. but it was fully three years afterward that it shone upon shab- by, dlsheveled, ferce-looking vagrart,
 
 some of the snow by the way-side upon his throbbing head. His breath was nearly spent. and the Christmas bells that rung out from the church below made confusion in his brain. His shaking hand raised the massive old silver knock CT, but Betty did not unfasten the chain.
 :Obadiah Trupenny?" she said. "Why, Lord O mercy. he's dead and buried these three years "
 ''Dead |" said Matthew, and dropped on the door-sill like stone. That word was like bullet to him. Dead" he gasped and gave up the struggle He fell on his face along the porch, and there Elizabeth found him.
 Some hours after, he opened his eyes upon the wide, pleasant old sitting-roO The Christmas fire was burning upon the hearth, casting ruddy glow upon the homespun carpet; blazing upon the polished heads of brass, the quaint old heads of andirons, shovel, and tongs, staring at each other from their separate corners, just as in the old time. flicker ing upon the. solid old mahogany side- board, with it's chubby decanters and tall glasses, its big square tray, from which tbat Japanese woman had been falling slantwise through the air all these years, and never yet spilled those impossible flowers on the mountain by her side; lighting up the high straight back chairs, the tall mirror, the dried grasses on the mantel, the geraniums still blossoming Tn the warm south window; heating the air with home scent of pine, a resinous odor of the old woods, that went straight to the soul of the poor vagrant upon the old chintz-covered settee. Once upon a time he was in keeping with the snug, gay appointments of this pleasant old room. He was as smart and dapper then, with his jetty locks and white skin and uhexceptionable garments, as smirk and smart, as they. But now, he was broken and bent and worn, shabby, unkempt, and miserable. His boots were rent, and so was his heart. He was out of place here; the heart of a canyon out yonder would suit him better.
 And shadow there by his side, some drapery upon the floor, a rufie of lace falling upon white hand near by-all these took his breath a~ay, brought weak miserable tears to his eyes shook the fainting soul within him. Her face-Oh, the old proud sweet facef-was turned little away, and her hair-oh, the old shadow-tinted hair l--had half fallen up- on her shoulder; the high nose, the clean OuS OA OAO AOobAlAS bu0 uELu sweep OI L0o chm and throat-why, she was the same sweet, sad, imperious Bess, the very same, while he-oh, miseryl was but n ghost to trouble joy. All the old fear of her and the old worship came sweeping back upon him.
 He made an effort to fall at her feet, but sank back powerless.
 Bess Bess!' he cried, in voice cracked and hollow as a broken drum. Did the old man tell you before he died? Did he right me ut the last? Oh, I swear to you. Bess, I've been true to my word ever since. I've done my best, Bess, poor miserable wretch that 1 am-I have done my best. See here"--and he took from his breast a ragged, faded bit of rib- boR-I've kept it all these years; it's all went away with, and it's all I come with. l tceuldn't make up the money, Bess; luck was against me somehow. Whorn ofhar man ooino1 alv-o-a l..k.