"My school-boy friend gave me a cordial greeting; That honest lawyer bade me welcome, too, And doted on my progress and the advice He gave me ere I left my native town.

Since first the iron-horse had coursed the vale Five years had fled--five prosperous, magic years, And well nigh five since I had left my home.

These prosperous years had wrought upon the place Their wonders till I hardly knew the town.

The broad and stately blocks of brick that shamed The weather-beaten wooden shops I knew Seemed the creation of some magic hand.

Adown the river bank the town had stretched, Sweeping away the quiet grove of pines Where I had loved to ramble when a boy And see the squirrels leap from tree to tree With reckless venture, hazarding a fall To dodge the ill-aimed arrows from my bow.

The dear old school-house on the hill was gone: A costly church, tall-spired and built of stone Stood in its stead--a monument to man.

Unholy greed had felled the stately pines, And all the slope was bare and desolate.

Old faces had grown older; some were gone, And many unfamiliar ones had come.

Boys in their teens had grown to bearded men, And girls to womanhood, and all was changed, Save the old cottage-home where I was born.

The elms and b.u.t.ternuts in the meadow-field Still wore the features of familiar friends; The English ivy clambered to the roof, The English willow spread its branches still, And as I stood before the cottage-door My heart-pulse quickened, for methought I heard My mother's footsteps on the ashen floor.

"The rumor I had heard was verified; The wedding-day was named and near at hand.

I met my rival: gracious were his smiles: Glad as a boy that robs the robin's nest He grasped the hands of half the men he met.

Pauline, I heard, but seldom ventured forth, Save when her doting father took her out On Sabbath morns to breathe the balmy air, And grace with her sweet face his cushioned pew.

The smooth-faced suitor, old dame Gossip said, Made daily visits to her father's house, And played the boy at forty years or more, While she had held him off to draw him on.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"I would not fawn upon the hand that smote; I would not cringe beneath its cruel blow, Nor even let her know I cared for it.

I kept aloof--as proud as Lucifer.

But when the church-bells chimed on Sabbath morn To that proud monument of stone I went-- Her father's pride, since he had led the list Of wealthy patrons who had builded it-- To hear the sermon--for methought Pauline Would hear it too. Might I not see her face, And she not know I cared to look upon it?

She came not, and the psalms and sermon fell Upon me like an autumn-mist of rain.

I met her once by chance upon the street-- The day before the appointed wedding-day-- Her and her father--she upon his arm.

'Paul--O Paul!' she said and gave her hand.

I took it with a cold and careless air-- Begged pardon--had forgotten;--'Ah--Pauline?-- Yes, I remembered;--five long years ago-- And I had made so many later friends, And she had lost so much of maiden bloom!'

Then turning met her father face to face, Bowed with cold grace and haughtily pa.s.sed on.

'This is revenge,' I muttered. Even then My heart ached as I thought of her pale face, Her pleading eyes, her trembling, clasping hand!

And then and there I would have turned about To beg her pardon and an interview, But pride--that serpent ever in my heart-- Hissed '_beggar_,' and I cursed her with the lips That oft had poured my love into her ears.

'She marries gold to-morrow--let her wed!

She will not wed a beggar, but I think She'll wed a life-long sorrow--let her wed!

Aye--aye--I hope she'll live to curse the day Whereon she broke her sacred promises.

And I forgive her?--yea, but not forget.

I'll take good care that she shall not forget; I'll p.r.i.c.k her memory with a bitter thorn Through all her future. Let her marry gold!'

Thus ran my muttered words, but in my heart There ran a counter-current; ere I slept Its silent under-tow had mastered all-- 'Forgive and be forgiven.' I resolved That on the morning of her wedding-day Would I go kindly and forgive Pauline, And send her to the altar with my blessing.

That night I read a chapter in this book-- The first for many months, and fell asleep Beseeching G.o.d to bless her.

Then I dreamed That we were kneeling at my mother's bed-- Her death-bed, and the feeble, trembling hands Of her who loved us rested on our heads, And in a voice all tremulous with tears My mother said: 'Dear children, love each other; Bear and forbear, and come to me in heaven.'

"I wakened once--at midnight--a wild cry-- '_Paul, O Paul!_' rang through my dreams and broke My slumber. I arose, but all was still, And then I, slept again and dreamed till morn.

In all my dreams her dear, sweet face appeared-- Now radiant as a star, and now all pale-- Now glad with smiles and now all wet with tears.

Then came a dream that agonized my soul, While every limb was bound as if in chains.

Methought I saw her in the silent night Leaning o'er misty waters dark and deep: A moan--a plash of waters--and, O Christ!-- Her agonized face upturned--imploring hands Stretched out toward me, and a wailing cry-- '_Paul, O Paul!_' Then face and hands went down, And o'er her closed the deep and dismal flood Forever--but it could not drown the cry: '_Paul, O Paul!_' was ringing in my ears; '_Paul, O Paul!_' was throbbing in my heart; And moaning, sobbing in my shuddering soul Trembled the wail of anguish--'_Paul, O Paul!_'

"Then o'er the waters stole the silver dawn, And lo a fairy boat with silken sail!

And in the boat an angel at the helm, And at her feet the form of her I loved.

The white mists parted as the boat sped on In silence, lessening far and far away.

And then the sunrise glimmered on the sail A moment, and the angel turned her face: My mother!--and I gave a joyful cry, And stretched my hands, but lo the hovering mists Closed in around them and the vision pa.s.sed.

"The morning sun stole through the window-blinds And fell upon my face and wakened me, And I lay musing--thinking of Pauline.

Yes, she should know the depths of all my heart-- The love I bore her all those lonely years; The hope that held me steadfast to my toil, And feel the higher and the holier love Her precious gift had wakened in my soul.

Yea, I would bless her for that precious gift-- I had not known its treasures but for her, And O for that would I forgive her all, And bless the hand that smote me to the soul.

That would be comfort to me all my days, And if there came a bitter time to her, 'Twould pain her less to know that I forgave.

"A hasty rapping at my chamber-door; In came my school-boy friend whose guest I was, And said: 'Come, Paul, the town is all ablaze!

A sad--a strange--a marvelous suicide!

Pauline, who was to be a bride to-day, Was missed at dawn and after sunrise found-- Traced by her robe and bonnet on the bridge, Whence she had thrown herself and made an end--'

"And he went on, but I could hear no more; It fell upon me like a flash from heaven.

As one with sudden terror dumb, I turned And in my pillow buried up my face.

Tears came at last, and then my friend pa.s.sed out In silence. O the agony of that hour!

O doubts and fears and half-read mysteries That tore my heart and tortured all my soul!

"I arose. About the town the wildest tales And rumors ran; dame Gossip was agog.

Some said she had been ill and lost her mind, Some whispered hints, and others shook their heads But none could fathom the marvelous mystery.

Bearing a bitter anguish in my heart, Half-crazed with dread and doubt and boding fears, Hour after hour alone, disconsolate, Among the scenes where we had wandered oft I wandered, sat where once the stately pines Domed the fair temple where we learned to love.

O spot of sacred memories--how changed!

Yet chiefly wanting one dear, blushing face That, in those happy days, made every place Wherever we might wander--hill or dale-- Garden of love and peace and happiness.

So heavy-hearted I returned. My friend Had brought for me a letter with his mail.

I knew the hand upon the envelope-- With throbbing heart I hastened to my room; With trembling hands I broke the seal and read.

One sheet inclosed another--one was writ At midnight by my loved and lost Pauline.

Inclosed within, a letter false and forged, Signed with my name--such perfect counterfeit, At sight I would have sworn it was my own.

And thus her letter ran:

"'Beloved Paul, May G.o.d forgive you as my heart forgives.

Even as a vine that winds about an oak, Rot-struck and hollow-hearted, for support, Clasping the sapless branches as it climbs With tender tendrils and undoubting faith, I leaned upon your troth; nay, all my hopes-- My love, my life, my very hope of heaven-- I staked upon your solemn promises.

I learned to love you better than my G.o.d; My G.o.d hath sent me bitter punishment.

O broken pledges! what have I to live And suffer for? Half mad in my distress, Yielding at last to father's oft request, I pledged my hand to one whose very love Would be a curse upon me all my days.

To-morrow is the promised wedding day; To morrow!--but to-morrow shall not come!

Come gladlier, death, and make an end of all!

How many weary days and patiently I waited for a letter, and at last It came--a message crueler than death.

O take it back!--and if you have a heart Yet warm to pity her you swore to love, Read it--and think of those dear promises-- O sacred as the Savior's promises-- You whispered in my ear that solemn night Beneath the pines, and kissed away my tears.

And know that I forgive, beloved Paul: Meet me in heaven. G.o.d will not frown upon The sin that saves me from a greater sin, And sends my soul to Him. Farewell--Farewell.'"

Here he broke down. Unto his pallid lips I held a flask of wine. He sipped the wine And closed his eyes in silence for a time, Resuming thus:

"You see the wicked plot.

We both were victims of a crafty scheme To break our hearts asunder. Forgery Had done its work and pride had aided it.

The spurious letter was a cruel one-- Casting her off with utter heartlessness, And boasting of a later, dearer love, And begging her to burn the _billets-doux_ A moon-struck boy had sent her ere he found That pretty girls were plenty in the world.

"Think you my soul was roiled with anger?--No;-- G.o.d's hand was on my head. A keen remorse Gnawed at my heart. O false and fatal pride That blinded me, else I had seen the plot Ere all was lost--else I had saved a life To me most precious of all lives on earth-- Yea, dearer then than any soul in heaven!

False pride--the ruin of unnumbered souls-- Thou art the serpent ever tempting me; G.o.d, chastening me, has bruised thy serpent head.

O faithful heart in silence suffering-- True unto death to one she could but count A perjured villain, cheated as she was!

Captain, I prayed--'twas all that I could do.

G.o.d heard my prayer, and with a solemn heart, Bearing the letters in my hand, I went To ask a favor of the man who crushed And cursed my life--to look upon her face-- Only to look on her dear face once more.

"I rung the bell--a servant bade me in.

I waited long. At last the father came-- All pale and suffering. I could see remorse Was gnawing at his heart; as I arose He trembled like a culprit on the drop.

'O, sir,' he said, 'whatever be your quest, I pray you leave me with my dead to-day; I cannot look on any living face Till her dead face is gone forevermore.'

"'And who hath done this cruel thing?' I said.