Chapter Twelfth.
"There is that speaketh like the piercings of a sword."--Prov. 12:18.
Many months had passed, bringing no news from their Westward-boundsons, and, in spite of their trust in God, Mr. and Mrs. Keith wereoften not a little anxious.
Miss Stanhope had returned to her home in the fall after the boys'departure. Her pleasant, cheery companionship was much missed, and butfor Mildred and Zillah being so near, the mother would have seen manya lonely hour, though she found agreeable occupation for a part ofeach day in teaching Annis, keeping her from school, and constitutingherself her governess.
This took up the morning hours, while the married daughters wereengaged with household cares and duties; then the afternoons, if theweather permitted any of them to go from home, were usually spenttogether at one or another of the three houses, the ladies busy withtheir needles, the children playing about the room.
Both Mildred's and Zillah's cares were increasing, for each had now alittle daughter; so that there were four little ones to claim the loveof the grandparents and help to win their thoughts from the anxiousfollowing of the absent sons; in that way they were proving greatcomforts as well as cares.
So the winter slipped quietly away without any startling event to markits progress.
But in March Mrs. Keith had an attack of pneumonia, which greatlyalarmed the family and kept her in bed for a fortnight. She wasabout again, but still feeble, and, in consequence of her weaknessof body, more than ever anxious and distressed about Rupert and Don,from whom no news had yet been received since the letter written fromIndependence so many, many months ago.
Mildred spent every spare moment with her mother, doing all in herpower for her comfort of body and to cheer and interest her and keepher mind from dwelling upon the absent dear ones.
Dr. Landreth too was exceedingly kind to his mother-in-law, for whomhe had a very strong and filial affection. He would have willinglysacrificed his own comfort at any time for hers, and was more thanwilling to have Mildred constantly with her while she was so feeble andailing; while all his skill and medical knowledge were exerted for herbenefit.
One evening Mildred, helping her mother to bed, remarked, "I wonderwhat has become of Charlie; he hasn't been in to see you thisafternoon."
"Perhaps that is an evidence that he thinks me a great deal better,"Mrs. Keith answered, in a playful tone. Then, more seriously, "He hasbeen very, very good to me, Mildred; you must tell him I appreciate hiskindness."
"He knows you do, mother," Mildred answered; "but indeed it is a realpleasure to him to do anything in his power for you; he says you arethe only mother he has ever known, and a very dear and precious one."
"No doubt he would have been in this afternoon if he had not beenprevented. I fear somebody is very ill."
A few minutes later Mildred, passing out of the house on her way to herown home, met her husband at the gate.
He gave her his arm almost without a word, nor did he speak duringtheir short walk; but Mildred's thoughts were busy, and she scarcelynoticed his silence.
It was too dark in the street to see his face, but on entering theirown sitting-room, where a bright light was burning, she caught sight ofit, and its pale, distressed look struck terror to her heart.
"O Charlie, what is it?" she cried, dropping her cloak upon the floorand throwing off her bonnet, then putting her arms about his neck andgazing with frightened, questioning eyes into his that were full ofanguish.
"My darling, I don't know how to tell you," he said hoarsely, holdingher close.
"My brothers?" she gasped, turning pale as death.
He bowed a silent assent.
"What--what is it?" she asked, scarcely able to articulate.
"The very worst," he said. "Yet stay; it may not be true; but there isa dreadful report about town, that the train was attacked by Indiansand several killed--"
"Rupert and Don among them?" she faltered, half-inquiringly, as hepaused, leaving his sentence unfinished.
"Yes; but, Milly dear, it may be altogether untrue."
She was clinging to him and weeping as if her very heart would break,her whole frame shaking with sobs.
"My brothers, my brothers! my dear, dear brothers!" she cried. "OCharlie, Charlie, why did they ever go into such fearful danger?"
"I thought it for the best, love, when I advised it," he said in apained tone; "but if I could have foreseen--"
"Dear husband, I forgot it was by your advice," she sobbed; "forgiveme; I should never think of blaming you."
"Thank you, love, I can hardly help blaming myself, though reason tellsme I am innocent. Ah, if I could but have foreseen--"
"But you could not; no mortal could. Both killed? Both gone? Oh, it istoo, too terrible!"
The door flew open and Zillah rushed in, closely followed by Wallace.
He was deathly pale, and his eyes were full of tears. She was weepingaloud.
"O Milly, Milly!" she cried, "was there ever anything so terrible? Itwill kill mother; she can never stand it in her weak state."
"We must manage to keep it from her," the doctor said.
"How can we? She will see it in our faces," sobbed Zillah.
"We must control our features; we must banish every expression of grieffrom them and from our words and voices when in her presence. Her lifemay depend upon it, for she is very feeble just now."
"We will all try," Wallace said, with a heavy sigh. "Let none of usventure into her presence until we are sure of ourselves."
"It will be very difficult, but I believe God will give us strength,"said Mildred, "if we ask it in faith. Oh, it is an awful, awful thing!"she cried, a fierce paroxysm of grief sweeping over her; then, as shegrew calmer, "but we have strong consolation in the certain knowledgethat they were of those who trust in the imputed righteousness ofChrist; that they had made their peace with God and were ready for thesummons home."
"Yes," said Wallace, "we sorrow not as those without hope; and dearmother, who lives so near the Master, and realizes so fully theblessedness of those who have gone to be forever with Him, will, Idoubt not, be able to bear up under this new trial, terrible as it is,when she has regained her usual health."
"No doubt of it," the doctor said.
"But oh, it is so terrible, so terrible!" sobbed Zillah; "far worsethan any of the many trials that have come to us in the last two orthree years."
"Does father know?" asked Mildred. "Has he heard?"
Neither the doctor nor Wallace could answer the question; they had notseen him since early in the day.
But while they were saying so the door-bell rang and he came in, bent,bowed down, aged with grief, till he looked an older man by ten--twentyyears than when they had seen him last.
With a moan of unspeakable anguish he dropped into a chair and bowedhis head upon his hands.
His daughters flew to him and enfolded him in loving arms, tears ofsympathy streaming down their cheeks.
"Father, dear, dear father," they said, "oh, do not be so distressed!it may not be true."
"Alas, alas! I dare not hope it," he groaned. "My boys--my boys; wouldGod I had died for you! My sons, oh, my sons! Such a fate! such aterrible fate!"
"But, dear father, think how happy they are now," said Mildred, weepingas she spoke.
"Yes, there is great and undeserved mercy mingled with the terribleaffliction," he replied; "'they cannot return to me, but I shall goto them.' Thanks be unto God for that blessed hope! But my wife--yourmother! this will kill her!"
"Dear father," said Mildred, "do not forget the precious promise, 'Asthy days, so shall thy strength be.'"
"We have all agreed to try to hide it from her till she is stronger,"the doctor remarked. "We will have to school ourselves to look and actand speak as if no such news had reached our ears."
"An impossible task, I fear," sighed Mr. Keith. "Marcia and I have hadno secrets from each other since we were married, and it will be noeasy task for me to conceal my anguish of he
art from her now; but, Godhelping me, I will."
To father and daughters the next few days were a severe ordeal,for it was difficult indeed to hide their bitter grief from thelove-sharpened eyes of the tender wife and mother; they were cheerfulwhen they could force themselves to be so; and when tears would havetheir way they talked of Fan, and seemed to be mourning afresh over herearly death, or spoke of Ada in her far distant home, and how faint wasthe hope that she would ever be with them again.
Mrs. Keith seemed somewhat surprised at these renewed manifestationsof grief that had appeared to be softened by the lapse of time; butasking no questions, she simply talked to them of Fan's blessedness andthe good work Ada was doing for the Master, and of the time when theywould again be a united family in the glorious land where partings areunknown.
She was regaining strength every day, and in seeing that they felt wellrewarded for their efforts at self-control and encouraged to perseverewith them; and they did, though at times--especially when she wouldspeak of Rupert and Don, talking hopefully of soon hearing of theirsafe arrival in California--it was almost beyond their power; and theywere compelled to find some pretext for leaving the room, that for ashort space they might let grief have its way.
Mildred was sitting with her mother one morning, her babe asleep by herside in the cradle that been occupied successively by herself and allher brothers and sisters, Percy quietly busied with a picture-book.
The two ladies had their sewing, and Annis was conning her lessons onthe farther side of the room.
The door-bell rang, and Celestia Ann ushered in a woman, a resident ofthe town with whom the ladies had never had any acquaintance, thoughthey knew her by name. Her call was therefore a surprise; but they gaveher a pleasant good-morning and a polite invitation to be seated.
She sat down, made a few remarks about the weather and the state ofthe roads, then, looking Mrs. Keith full in the face, said, "I s'poseyou've heard the news about the last party that set off from here forCaliforny?"
Mildred made a warning gesture, but it was too late, and doubtlesswould not have been heeded even could it have been given in time.
"What news?" Mrs. Keith asked, in a startled tone, while Annis rose andcame forward in an excited manner, her eyes wild with affright.
"So you haven't heard?" pursued the caller, with the satisfaction ofthe newsmonger in a fresh customer for her wares. "Well--"
"Mrs. Slate," interrupted Mildred, "I must beg you will say no more; wehave heard a vague report, which may be entirely untrue, but have beentrying to keep it from mother, for she is too weak to bear it."
"What is it, Mildred, my child, what is it?" gasped the poor invalid,turning deathly pale.
"Dear mother, don't ask; it would only distress you, and may be alla lie," Mildred said, going to her and putting her arms about her intender, loving fashion.
"Tell me, my child, tell me; it is useless to try to keep me inignorance now; suspense would be worse than the direst certainty,"faltered the mother.
"But there is no certainty, mother dear," Mildred said pityingly, hertears falling fast as she spoke; "oh, be content not to hear what canbut give you pain!"
"She'd _ought_ to know," said Mrs. Slate; "she's got to hear it sooneror later, and what's the use of puttin' her off so? I'll tell you,Mrs. Keith. They say the train was attacked by the Injins and most o'the men killed, your two boys among the rest. I felt it my duty tocome and tell you about it, in case you hadn't heard, and to call yourattention to the fact that this appears to be the way Providence hastaken for to punish you for bringin' 'em up to care so much for gold;and--"
"Leave the house this instant, and never venture to darken its doorsagain!" cried Mildred, supporting her fainting mother with one arm,while she turned, full of righteous indignation, toward her tormentorwith a stamp of her foot to enforce the order she could not refrainfrom giving.
"I've only done my dooty," muttered the woman, rising and sailing fromthe room with her head in the air.
"O mother, mother!" sobbed Mildred. "Annis, help me to lay her on thelounge, and run for Charlie. I think he's at home in the office. Thecruel, cruel creature! how could she! oh, _how could_ she!"
Annis, wildly weeping, hastened to obey. "O Milly, Milly, is motherdying? Is it true about the boys?"
"She has only fainted, and it is only a report about the boys, thatmay not be at all true," Mildred said. "Now call Celestia Ann to helpme, and you run for Charlie as fast as you can. O Zillah," in a toneof relief as the door opened and Mrs. Ormsby came in, "I'm glad you'vecome. Run to mother's room and get the bottle of ammonia."
Greatly startled and alarmed by the glimpse she had got of her mother'swhite, unconscious face, Zillah ran to do her sister's bidding, whileCelestia Ann, summoned by Annis, hastened to render all the assistancein her power, and poor, terrified Annis flew like the wind in search ofthe doctor.
She found him in, and, though scarcely able to articulate, made himunderstand that his presence was wanted with all speed.
She darted back, and he caught up his medicine-case and followed closeat her heels.
Mrs. Keith still lay white and insensible, the three women busy abouther with half-despairing efforts to restore her to consciousness.
They began to fear it was something more than an ordinary faint. Hadthat sudden, cruel announcement taken her life? Happy for her were itso; but oh, how could husband and children spare her?
Mildred turned upon her husband a look of agonized inquiry.
"Do not be alarmed, love," he said, "she will revive presently, Itrust."
Some moments of trying suspense ensued; then her eyes opened wide andglanced about from one to another.
"What has happened?" she asked, in feeble accents; "have I been worse?"
"In a faint, mother; but you have come out of it now, and I hope willbe none the worse after a little," the doctor answered cheerfully. Butere the words had left his lips memory had resumed her sway.
"Oh, my sons!" she cried, "my Rupert and Don! Can it be true that Ishall see them no more upon earth? Have they been cut off in the prideand beauty of their early manhood by a savage foe? O Lord, lead meto the Rock that is higher than I, for my heart is overwhelmed!" shecried, clasping her hands and lifting her streaming eyes to heaven.
"Dear mother," sobbed Mildred, leaning over her in tenderestsolicitude, "if they are gone from earth, it is to the better land,where pain and sin and sorrow are unknown, and where you will one dayjoin them and all your loved ones. But it may not be true; there is nocertainty yet; it is but a rumor."
"Then how cruel to tell me," she sighed; "and to add that I was toblame for their going. Ah, God knows I have tried to train them forheaven, and not to set their affections upon the perishing things oftime and sense."
"Yes, mother, your children can all testify to that," Mildred said;Zillah adding, "Indeed we can; if any of us are worldly-minded it isnot the fault of either of our parents. And it was not the love of goldthat sent our dear brothers on that journey; one was seeking health,the other went to take care of him and with a longing for change andexciting adventure."
At that moment Mr. Keith came in with a letter in his hand. His facewas brighter and happier than they had seen it for many days, eagernessand anxiety mingling with its gladness.
"From Don to you, my dear," he cried, holding the letter high, with itsaddress toward her.
"Oh, then it is not true! not true!" was the simultaneous, joyfulexclamation from his daughters; and Mildred, embracing the weepinginvalid, said, "Do you hear, dearest mother? A letter from Don, and youmay dry your tears."
Her husband held it out to her with a glad and loving smile.
She grasped it eagerly, but in vain her trembling fingers essayed totear it open.
"Let me, dear wife," he said, taking it gently from her.
"Read it," she said feebly; "my eyes are dim. Oh, my Rupert! is heliving also?"
Mr. Keith glanced down the page, let the letter fall, and dropped hisface int
o his hands with a heart-rending groan.
Zillah snatched it from the floor, her hand trembling like an aspenleaf, her face overspread with a deathly pallor.
"My son, my son, my first-born son!" sobbed Mrs. Keith, "gone, gone inthat dreadful way! Yet, thank God that dear Don is left. And blessed beHis holy name that _He_ lives and reigns, and none can stay His hand orsay unto Him, What doest thou?"
"Read, some one," groaned the father; "I cannot!"
Zillah silently handed the letter to the doctor, and he read it in low,moved tones, often interrupted by the bitter weeping of his listeners.
Rupert's death was a heavy blow; for a time his parents seemed wellnighcrushed by it, yet not a murmur was ever heard from either; thelanguage of their lips and lives was, "'Though He slay me, yet will Itrust in Him.'"
The manner of their son's death made it the hardest blow they had everreceived; yet as the months rolled on they learned to speak calmly andtenderly of him as having gone before to the heavenly home whither theythemselves would soon follow.
Don's letter received a reply in due season. It said his speedy returnwould be joyfully welcomed, yet as he was now on the ground, he wasfree to stay for a time if such were his choice; so he remained,fascinated by the hope of success in his search for gold, and feeling agreat repugnance to going back and facing his townsmen without havingsecured at least a moderate portion of that which he had come so far tofind.
Mildred at Home: With Something About Her Relatives and Friends. Page 12