CHAPTER XXX.
I met with scoffs, I met with scorns From youth, and babe, and hoary hairs, They called me in the public squares, The fool that wears a crown of thorns.
TENNYSON'S "IN MEMORIAM."
It was without delay that Holden applied himself to the purpose ofhis visit to New York, in which he was seconded, to the best of hisability, by Pownal. All the time the young man could spare from hisown business he devoted to his friend, though fearful that there waslittle probability of succeeding in the search. But who, however,convinced of the futility of the inquiries, could refuse hisassistance to one engaged in an investigation of so deep and sacred aninterest, and who believed with an implicit faith in ultimate success?And such is the nature of enthusiasm, or a high-wrought faith, thatPownal himself could not refrain from entering with some degree ofspirit into an inquiry, which he felt would probably be in vain.
Together they sought out, in the first place, the street indicated byEsther. Formerly an obscure part of the city, it had now become, bythose mutations which are constantly occurring, and nowhere with suchrapidity as in this country, a considerable rendezvous of trade. Byrare good luck, the name of the street had been preserved, and by luckstill rarer, the house itself, corresponding in all respects to thedescription by Esther. It was one of those ancient Dutch houses, ofwhich mention has been made, built of a yellowish brick, and standingwith its gable-end toward the street, its steep-pointed roof,constituting at least one-half of the building, rising with an air ofcommand, dominating the whole, and seeming, indeed, to be that portionto which all the other parts were only subsidiary, and constructed forits honor and glory. Neither Holden nor Pownal had, for an instant,doubted the honesty and truth of Esther, and yet it must be confessed,that the discovery of a building, so exactly corresponding with herdescription, added fresh fuel to the hopes of the former, and wasnot without influence on the latter. And yet, at a moment when, asit seemed to himself, he was about to realize his dear hopes--for theimagination of the Solitary leaped over all intervening difficulties,and, in the confusion of his mind, it almost appeared as if when thedoor opened, he should see and recognize his son--Holden laid his handon Pownal's arm, and arrested his steps.
"Stay," he said, "let me pause a moment, and recover my wanderingthoughts. There is a sound as of a tempest in my brain, and a confusednoise, as of a trampling of men and horses."
He sat down on the stone step, as if unable to support himself, andrested his head on his hand.
"Here," he said, speaking to himself, with a trembling voice, "themerciful savage whose heart the Lord touched, left my child. Here hislittle feet trod, and against this wall his head rested. Would thatthese inanimate things could know my gratitude! But thou knowest it,O, all Merciful, my goodness, and my fortress, my high tower, and mydeliverer, my shield, and he in whom I trust. Lord, what is man thatthou takest knowledge of him! or the son of man, that thou makestaccount of him! Didst thou not, in the olden time, hear the voiceof the perishing child, Ishmael, and say, by thine angel, unto hisweeping mother, Fear not, for God hath heard the voice of the ladwhere he is. Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him in thine hand, forI will make him a great nation? Even so now hast thou done unto me andremembered me in my low estate, for thy mercy endureth for ever."
Thus the father poured out his heart, alike unconscious of thegathering crowd, which his unusual appearance and strange language hadcollected around him, and of the observations they made.
"I say, Haxall," said a stout boy, whose dirty and ragged clothing,and vicious expression of face, proclaimed him one of thosepredestined candidates for the State Prison and gallows, bred totheir fate by the criminal neglect of the State, "I say," he said,addressing his companion, as wicked looking as himself, "isn't it arum old covey."
"Why the old cuss is a crying," answered Haxall, "or, perhaps, it'sthe whisky leaking out he took for his morning bitters."
"Whisky be d----d," said the other. "He never got as far as that. It'snothing but sour cider. I can smell it."
Here there was a brutal laugh, in which some of the bystanders,equally degraded, joined.
"For shame, young men," said a respectable-looking person, whosebroad-brimmed hat, and formal and amply cut clothing, proclaimed hima Quaker; "is an old man, in tears, a proper subject for ribaldry?It were better ye were engaged in some honest employment, than idlingaway your time, and disgracing yourselves by the use of profanelanguage."
"Smoke the old quiz, Haxall," cried the boy who had first spoken. "Heopens rich. Let's see what's in the prig."
"Smoke him, smoke him," cried several voices.
Thus exhorted, Haxall jerking his cap jauntily on one side of hishead, throwing an additional quantity of impudence into his face, andplacing his hands on the hips, so that the elbows stuck out on eachside, approached the Quaker.
"So you set yourself up for a preacher of righteousness," he said; "doye? Well, you may preach away without asking my leave, or I'll give itto ye gratis, for nothing. That's cheap enough, I guess. Most ofyour sort, though, don't like to preach for nothing. So here's mycontribution to set you a going." So saying, he held out a cent."There's value received," he added, "and, mind ye, ye give us apreachment equal to the consideration. But first, beloved brother,I've a question to ask. Up to the tip top of your judgment, now do youthink your regimentals is just the right thing, and no mistake?Did Saint Paul and Saint, Saint, d----n the fellows, I forget theirnames"----
"Saint Tammany," suggested his companion.
"I owe you a drink for that, Bill," said Haxall. "Yes, Saint Tammany.Now, do you think them gentlemen, who I've heard, was real respectablemen, though it was rather a comedown to take to preaching, eversported such an infernal broadbrim as that, or turned out a tail asbroad as yours?"
The Quaker gentleman, who, at the commencement of the young scamp'sspeech, as if frightened at the prospect of a colloquy he hadprovoked, had betrayed a desire to escape from the crowd, seemed, asthe other proceeded, to have changed his mind, and listened to himwith the utmost calmness and imperturbable good humor. When the boyhad got through with his impertinences, which he ran over with greatvolubility, garnishing them with many epithets we have omitted, and,at the close, had received the applause of those like him, who stoodaround, and, now, seemed waiting for a reply, the Quaker, with greatsweetness, answered--
"My young friend, it would ill become me to return a harsh word forthy rather rude address, nor will my feelings towards thee and all inthy unhappy condition, permit me to speak to thee, except in pity andin sorrow."
"Go to h----l with your pity. Nobody asks you for it," exclaimedHaxall, fiercely.
"Gently, boy, gently, and do not profane thy lips with such language.Alas! thou hast been allowed to grow up like a wild animal, andcanst not be expected to know there are those who regard thee withaffection. But, surely, goodness can never be quite extinguished inone who has the form of humanity. I see thou dost not know me?"
"Never set eyes on ye before, old square toes, and be d----d to you."
"Yet, I know thee, and, perhaps, the guilt is partly mine that thouart even now what thou art. Thou hast, then, forgotten the man who,only a year ago, jumped off Coenties Slip, and, by the kindness ofProvidence, rescued a boy from drowning?"
"Have I forgot!" exclaimed Haxall, with a sudden revulsion of feeling."No, d----d me, not altogether. I thought there was something devilishqueer in your voice. So you was the man, and I am the b'hoy. Oh,what a cussed beast I am to insult you! Give us your hand. I askyour pardon, sir. I ask your pardon. And," he added, looking fiercelyround, "if there's a man here who crooks his thumb at ye, I swear I'llwhip him within an inch of his life."
"Swear not at all," said the mild Quaker, "nor talk of fighting, asif thou wert a dog. I see, notwithstanding thy coarseness and vilelanguage, thou art not all evil, and, if thou wilt come with me,I will endeavor to repair my former neglect, by putting thee in asituation where thou mayst become an useful man."
&n
bsp; The boy hesitated. Two impulses seemed to be drawing him in oppositedirections. He was afraid of the ridicule of his companion, and of thesneer which he saw on his face, and who, now, was urging him to leavewith him. Yet, there was something peculiarly attractive about theQuaker that was difficult to resist.
The good Quaker read the indecision of his mind, and understood thecause. "Come," he said, "be a man, and choose for thyself like a man.Thou shalt remain with me only so long as thou wilt, and shalt be freeto leave at thy pleasure."
"That's fair," said Haxall. "I'll go with you, sir. Goodbye, Bill," heexclaimed, turning to his companion, and extending his hand. ButBill, thrusting both his hands into his pockets, refused the hand, andanswered contemptuously--
"If you've turned sniveller, go and snivel with Broadbrim. I'venothing to say to such a mean-spirited devil."
"You're a mean devil yourself," retorted Haxall, all his fierypassions kindling at the other's taunt.
"Come, my young friend," said the gentleman, drawing him away gently,"return not railing for railing. I trust the time may yet come, whenreproach, instead of exciting anger, will only be an incentive toexamine thy bosom more closely, to see if thou dost not deserve it."
Long before the conclusion of this conversation, the original causeof it had entered the house with Pownal, and, upon his departure, thelittle crowd had gradually dispersed, so that, when the benevolentQuaker left, with the boy whom he hoped should be a brand plucked fromthe burning, very few persons remained. Bill followed his departingcompanion with a scornful laugh, but the latter--as if his goodangel stood by his side to strengthen him--had resolution enough todisregard it.
When Holden and Pownal entered the house, the front part of which wasused as a shop, they were received with great civility by a woman whowas officiating at the counter, and, upon their desire to speak withher husband, were shown by her into a back room, used as a parlor, andrequested to be seated. Her husband, she said, had stepped out a shorttime since, though, already, gone longer than she expected, and wouldcertainly be back in a few moments. Her prophecy was correct, for,sure enough, they were hardly seated before he made his appearance.
He appeared to be an intelligent person, and answered withoutsuspicion or hesitation to the best of his ability, all the questionsaddressed to him, so soon as he understood their object. But hisinformation was exceedingly limited. He knew nothing at all about aperson who had occupied the house more than twenty years before--norwas it, indeed, reasonable to suppose he should. In all probabilitythe number of tenants was almost as great as of the years that hadsince elapsed: the name mentioned to him was a very common one: manysuch were to be found in the Directory, and the chances were thatthe house itself had repeatedly changed owners in a community sochangeable and speculating. If the gentlemen would allow him tosuggest, the best course would be to examine the records in theRegister's office, and trace the title down to the time desired.In this way the name of the owner could, without difficulty, bediscovered, and if he were alive he might, perhaps, be able to informthem what had become of the person who was his tenant at the time,although that was hardly probable.
The suggestion was plainly sensible, and had, indeed, occurred toPownal from the beginning, and he had accompanied Holden that morningmore for the purpose of determining whether the house described byEsther, still existed, than with the expectation of making any furtherdiscovery. His anticipations had been more than realized; a favorablebeginning had been made; there was every inducement to prosecutethe search. When, therefore, Holden and Pownal thanked the obligingshopkeeper for his politeness, and took their leave, both felt thattheir morning had not been thrown away, though the condition of theirminds was somewhat different, the former being confident of success,the latter hoping for it.
"I will call at the Register's office," said the young man, "anddirect an examination to be made of the records. We shall be able toobtain the result to-morrow, and until then you must endeavor to amuseyourself, my dear friend, as well as possible. You know I sympathizewith your impatience, and shall expedite our search with alldiligence, and heaven grant it a happy termination."
Pownal saw that the search was made at the office of the Register, andthe title traced through several persons to the period when the housewas occupied by the man named by Esther. Upon further inquiry it wasascertained that the proprietor at that time was still alive, and oneof the principal citizens of the place. Holden lost no time in callingupon him, but was doomed to disappointment. He was received, indeed,with great urbanity by the gentleman, one of the old school, whoproffered every aid in his power, and made an examination of hispapers to discover the name of his tenant. He was successful in thesearch, and found that the name was the same given by Esther, but whathad become of the man he was unable to say.
Holden now determined to make the inquiry of every one of the samename as that of the person sought. The search he pursued with all theardor of a vehement nature, stimulated by the importance of an objectthat lay so near his heart. There was no street, or alley, or lane,where there was the slightest chance of success, unvisited by hisunwearied feet. And varied was the treatment he received in thatpersevering search: by some met with contempt and insult as a crazyold fool, whose fittest place was the lunatic asylum, and who oughtnot to be allowed to prowl about the streets, entering people's housesat unseasonable hours and plaguing them with foolish questions: byothers with a careless indifference, and an obvious desire to be ridof him as soon as possible, but to the honor of human nature, be itsaid, by most with sympathy and kindness. It was, moreover, usuallyamong the poorer, that when it was necessary to mention the reasonof his inquiry, he was treated with the most gentleness andconsideration. Whether it is that suffering had taught them feelingfor others' woes, while prosperity and worldly greed had hardened thehearts of the richer, let the reader determine. And, again, it wasupon the women his tale made the tenderest impression. Whatever maybethe condition of woman, however sad her experience in life, howeverdeplorable her lot, however low she may be sunk in degradation, it ishard to find one of her sex in whom sensibility is extinguished. Withher, kindness is an instinct. The heart throbs of necessity to a storyof sorrow, and the eye overflows with pity.
But the diligence of Holden was in vain, and, at last, he was obligedto confess that he knew not what further to do, unless he took hisstaff in hand and wandered over the world in prosecution of hissearch.
"And that will I do, Thomas," he said, as one day he returned from hisinquiry, "if naught else can be done. My trust is in the Lord, and Hedoth not mock. He despiseth not the sighing of the heart, nor hath Hemade the revelation and put this confidence into my mind in vain. Iknow in whom I have trusted, and that He is faithful and true."
Whatever might have been the opinion of Pownal, he was incapable ofuttering a word to discourage Holden, or of inflicting unnecessarypain. "Why should I," he said, "dampen his enthusiasm? Small, as seemsto me, the chance of ever discovering his son, it is, after all, mereopinion. Things more wonderful than such a discovery have happened. Byme, at least, he shall be sustained and encouraged. Disappointment, ifit comes, will come soon enough. I will not be its ill-omened herald."He, therefore, said, in reply--
"Esther's story is certainly true. Our researches corroborate itstruth. We have found the house, and a person of the name she gave, didlive in it at the time she mentioned."
"They satisfy thee, Thomas; but I have a more convincing proof--aninternal evidence--even as the sure word of prophecy. It speaks to melike a sweet voice, at mine uprising and lying down, and bids me bestrong and of good cheer, for the day of deliverance draweth nigh.Doubt not, but believe that, in His good time, the rough places shallbe made smooth, and the darkness light. And yet, shall I confessit unto thee, that, sometimes, a sinful impatience mastereth me? Iforget, that the little seed must lie for a time in the earth, andnight succeed day and day night, and the dew descend and the rainfall, and the bright sun shine, and his persuasive heat creep into thebosom of
the germ before its concealed beauty can disclose itself,and the lovely plant--the delight of every eye--push up its coronalof glory. But, it is a transitory cloud, and I cry, Away! and itdeparteth, and I say unto my heart, Peace, be still, and know that Iam God!"
"It would seem," said Pownal, "that there is often a connectionbetween the presentiments of the mind and an approaching event. Howfrequently does it happen, for instance, that one, without knowingwhy, begins to think of a person, and that, almost immediately, theperson will present himself.
"It is the shadow of approaching destiny, and men have moulded thefact into a proverb. There is a world of truth in proverbs. Theyenclose, within a small space, even as a nut its kernel, a sum ofhuman experience. In the case thou citest, may it not be that the mandoth project a sphere of himself, or subtle influence, cognizable byspirit, albeit, the man be himself thereof unconscious? But know thatit is no vague and uncertain emotion that I feel. I tell thee youngman, I have heard the voice as I hear thee, and seen the visionclearer than in dreams. Naught may stay the wheel of destiny. AnAlmighty arm hath whirled it on its axis, and it shall revolve untilHe bids it stop."
Thus, unfaltering in his confidence, secure of the result, believingthat to himself a revelation had been made, the Solitary expressedhimself. As the blood mounted into his ordinarily pale cheeks, hislips quivered and his eyes were lighted up with a wild enthusiasm,Pownal could not but admire and acknowledge the omnipotence ofthat faith which regards no task as arduous, and can say unto themountains, Be ye cast into the sea! and it is done.
The Lost Hunter Page 31