Joshua Marvel

"Forgive me," Minnie pleaded.

"I do, child," said Mrs. Marvel, more agitated than Minnie was. "I was obliged to speak sternly, or I should not have been able to wake you. Go to bed now, and be more obedient for the future."

Minnie walked humbly into the passage, whither Mrs. Marvel followed her.

"Ah, not like that!" sighed Minnie, as Mrs. Marvel turned to enter the room. "Not like that! Kiss me, and say again that you forgive me."

And Mrs. Marvel, distressed and pitiful, kissed Minnie, who clung to her for a few moments, sobbing quietly, and then crept to bed.

But who had struck the blow? Who was it that, waiting with malicious cunning until Joshua's foot was on the threshold of the home where so many loving hearts were eager to welcome him, had foully struck him down? Susan was the only one who had any suspicion; but she did not mention it, for she had not seen the Lascar for many months. When Minnie was questioned, she declared that she saw no one in the street. A neighbor asked why one of the men in the house did not look for footsteps in the snow and follow up the track. They could not tell why they had not done so; it would have been the right thing to do, undoubtedly, but it had not occurred to them. When Joshua was sufficiently recovered, he could not assist them. He was examined and cross-examined closely. Did he suspect any of the sailors? No; he was good friends with every person on board; was even a favorite with the captain and officers. Ah! perhaps it sprang from that, they said; one of his mates might have been jealous of him. No; he was certain not one of them was. His own opinion was that he had been stabbed by a thief who wanted to rob him. But there! what was the use of bothering about it? Here he was, getting well and strong again, when it might have been so much worse. Thank God, in a few weeks he would be as well as ever! The day that Joshua was out of danger, the doctor told him that his life had been saved by Minnie.

"In what way, sir?" asked Joshua.

"Don't you remember that, when you were struck" – commenced the doctor. But Joshua interrupted him by saying that he remembered nothing from that moment.

"I was walking along, too much occupied with the happiness of coming home to think of any thing else. I remember looking at the houses in the street, and stopping before our house. I heard voices inside, or I thought I did. Indeed, it might have been fancy. I stooped to listen, and then knocked. Some one asked-ah, now I remember! It was Minnie's voice asking who was there. Just as I answered, a dizziness came over me; I did not even know that I was struck."

"As you answered," said the doctor, taking up the narrative where Joshua dropped it, "Minnie opened the door. She saw you falling, and saw blood flowing from your neck. She threw herself by your side, and put her lips to the wound, and pressed so as to cause the blood to flow less freely. I honestly believe that if she had not done that, your life would not have been saved."

Joshua did not pursue the conversation, and the doctor did not recur to the subject again. The following afternoon Joshua said to his mother, -

"Mother, I want to speak to Minnie."

Mrs. Marvel, a little uneasily, went for Minnie, who came and sat by Joshua's bed.

"Are you better, Joshua?" asked the girl.

"Yes, dear Minnie," answered Joshua.

They spoke in whispers. Joshua put out his big hand, and Minnie clasped it.

"Your hand is quite cold, Minnie." Minnie, indeed, was very agitated. "I owe you my life, dear Minnie, and I want to thank you for it. It almost seems to me, after what I have been told, as if my life belonged to you. Thank you, dear little Minnie-you used to like me to call you that! – thank you a thousand thousand times. I shall never be able to repay you!"

"I don't want payment, Joshua," said Minnie, when the wild beating of her heart was subdued. "It brought its own payment with it. It is, and ever will be, my sweetest remembrance. O Joshua! as the greatest unhappiness that ever could occur to me would be" – (to lose you, she was about to say, but she checked the words in time) – "to know that you would not recover, so the greatest happiness that I have ever experienced is to think that I have done you some little service."

"Little service! The greatest service, the most devoted action that woman could do to man! Perhaps-who knows? – one day I may be able to repay you in my own way." As if those words were not sufficient for her, who would have given her life for his. "Stoop down Minnie!" She inclined her head to the pillow. "Little Minnie, little Minnie!" he whispered tenderly, and he placed his lips to her cheek. "Thank you for your devotion."

It was fortunate for Minnie that it was dusk, and that her back was towards Mrs. Marvel, or the good mother would have had further cause for anxiety and uneasiness in Minnie's trembling form and flushed face. As it was, there was a long silence in the room; and Mrs. Marvel, approaching softly to the bed to see if Joshua was asleep, broke the happy reverie into which Minnie had fallen.

Solomon Fewster came to the house every day to inquire after Joshua, and went away every day with content in his face and despair in his heart. If ever a man played a double part, he played it during that time. "If he would but die!" he thought many and many a time. "If mortification would set in, or erysipelas, or something that would kill him!" And "I am truly happy to hear it," he said, many and many a time, to Mrs. Marvel, as in answer to his inquiries she told him that Joshua was improving rapidly. "I have brought a little jelly for him," which Mrs. Marvel received thankfully. At other times he would bring a chicken or some other delicacy to tempt Joshua's appetite, and would walk from the house with earnest wishes that what he left would choke the invalid. "I shall never forget Mr. Fewster's kindness," said Mrs. Marvel. "I feel quite angry with myself; for I did not give him credit for so much good feeling. But it is just in such times as these that a man shows the real goodness of his heart." And Mr. Fewster met with his reward immediately; for they were all grateful to him for his attention to Joshua. Mr. Marvel always had a hearty word for him, Minnie always a bright look, Ellen always a kind welcome now. But it was both sweet and bitter to him. "Ellen looks kindly upon me," he thought, and thought truly, "because I profess myself kind to Joshua. Will it ever be otherwise? Yes; if money can make it so, it shall be. And money can do much."

Yes, money can do much; but it cannot buy love, although it is often paid for it.

The most delicious three months of Joshua's life dated from the day on which the doctor declared him to be out of danger. He lived in an atmosphere of love. Loving hearts, loving hands, loving looks, loving thoughts, surrounded him. Is it better to have those than to be great and rich and powerful? Too modest for ambition are such blessings. Yet are they the sweetest, the holiest attributes of life. Of life, which is nothing without pleasures which cost money. Of life, which is not worth the living without fine linen and rich food. Of life, which is useless without the restless striving, the absorbing ambition, which make up the sum of human progress. Of Life, the Paradox!

Something which has fallen out of its proper place may be motioned here. When Joshua was carried into the house on that memorable Christmas night, two things that had fallen from his hands were picked up from the snow and carried in after him. On of these was his accordion, the other was a white cockatoo in a cage, which Joshua had brought home from the South Seas. Whether it was that the cockatoo was overwhelmed at finding itself in a strange land, or that it deemed it necessary to be silent in the distressing circumstances of the case, it certainly behaved itself in a most exemplary manner, and gave no indication that it possessed a tongue. The cockatoo was taken to Dan's house, which was but a very few doors from Joshua's, and two or three days afterwards Dan was startled by hearing his name called in a strange loud voice. He looked up at Ellen, and asked if she had spoken. She had just time to say "No" when her name was called in the same strange loud voice.

"Why, it's the cockatoo!" exclaimed Dan.

Sure enough, it was the cockatoo, which, now that its tongue was loosened, made as much use of it as a woman could have done. Its stock of language was not large, consisting only of a shrill "Dan!" a shrill "Dan and Jo!" a shrill "Ellen!" a shrill "Minnie!" and a softer articulation of "Bread-and-cheese and kisses! and kisses! and kisses!" winding up with a volley of kisses, which it continued until it was completely out of breath. No stronger proof of Joshua's attachment could have been received by Dan and Ellen. Dan was much affected by it.

"You see how he was thinking of us all the time he was away," he said to Ellen, with tears in his eyes. "What shall I do if he dies!"

But Joshua did not die, and it was not very long afterwards that Dan was sitting in his friend's bedroom, surrounded by his birds as usual. It was like the old time come over again. Here they were, man and man, talking often as if they were boys. So much had to be told! The loss of Dan's parents, Dan entering into business, and how they all came to be living together. "Wonderful, wonderful!" said Joshua, again and again. "Like a story in a book."

"Just what I said," said Dan; "like a romance."

Who should come to the house one day but the captain of Joshua's ship. the "Merry Andrew"? The part he plays in this story is a small one, but eventful enough in all conscience. He was a shrewd man of business and a good officer. It was to his interest to have good men about him; for he was the principal owner of the ship, and he was remarkably sensible in any matter affecting his interests. He had heard of what had occurred to Joshua, and he was very sorry for it, because he had been so satisfied with Joshua's conduct on board his ship, that he had determined to make the young sailor his third mate on the next voyage. Therein he showed his eccentricity; most other captains would have chosen a man who had already filled that position satisfactorily. But Captain Liddle liked to judge for himself, and Joshua had found favor in his eyes. The young sailor was steady and attentive, and had made some progress in the study of navigation. There was one especial reason why Captain Liddle wanted steady men with him on his next voyage. He was about to get married, and he was going to take his young wife with him. There was great excitement in the house when Captain Liddle announced himself. Joshua, who was in bed, wanted to rise, but Captain Liddle would not allow him.

"Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel," he said: "you'll get better all the sooner."

"I hoped to come with you, sir, on your next voyage," said Joshua.

"Well, I had some thought of that myself," said Captain Liddle.

"Do you go out soon, sir?"

"Not for three months, Marvel; perhaps not for four. The ship's undergoing a thorough overhauling. She'll have a precious freight in her next trip."

"What loading, sir?"

Captain Liddle's eyes twinkled. "Female. Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel;" for Joshua had given another start. "Mrs. Captain Liddle. I shall be married soon, and my wife goes out with me."

Joshua murmured respectful congratulations.

"Thank you, thank you, Marvel. Now, I'll tell you what I have come especially for. First, though, how long before you are well?"

"I am well now, sir."

"Strong, I mean; able to get about and do your work like a man."

"Not for two months, I am afraid, sir."

"That will do. Now, then. You get strong in two months, and you shall go out with me in my next trip as third mate of the 'Merry Andrew.' Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel. What do you say to it, eh?"

"Say to it, sir! O" -

"Lie easy, lie easy, my lad. When you get strong come to the ship, and write a few lines soon telling me how strong you are getting. Mrs. Marvel, your son is a good sailor, and will make a good officer. And this is Dan, that you told me of once? A good head; but not so strong in the legs as Marvel, eh?"

"No, sir," said Dan with a bright smile, for he was overjoyed at Joshua's good fortune; "but it wouldn't do for all of us to be strong sir; consider the doctors."

"Why, here is a ship, ropes and sails and all! And birds!"

Obedient to Dan's signal, the sailor-birds flew up the ropes, and stood on the slender cross-trees, as proud as if they had passed their lives in the service.

"Good-good!" said Captain Liddle. "For sale, eh?"

"No; they are not mine sir; they belong to an old sailor."

"Very proper. Ah, young lady," to Minnie, who had been in the room, but in the background, during the captain's visit; "and what do you think of the sea?"

"If I had been a man, sir," said Minnie modestly and quietly, "I should like to have been a sailor."

"Very proper-very proper. Good-day, Marvel. Get strong as quickly as you can. You'll have to superintend cargo."

Mr. Marvel, coming home at night, was told the good news before he had time to take the comforter from his neck. He ran up stairs at once to his son's room. "A sailor first, and then a captain," he exclaimed, recalling Joshua's words when he first announced his wish. "Do you remember, Josh?

"Yes, father, yes," said Joshua eagerly.

"It's better than being a wood-turner, Josh," said George Marvel triumphantly.

"I should think so, indeed. You'll see!"

"There, Maggie!" observed Mr. Marvel to his wife later on in the evening. "What did I tell you? And you was against it all the while, and wanted him to be a wood-turner. He'll be a captain before he's thirty."

"He is spared, I hope, for great things." said Mrs. Marvel meekly; "and to be a blessing to us all."

That same night, Dan and Joshua and Ellen spent some very happy hours together. Minnie was with Susan attending her father, so that the three were undisturbed. Mrs. Marvel opened the door once; but seeing the group, and observing how engrossed they were, she shut it softly, and went down again into the kitchen. Once, also, George Marvel was going out of the kitchen when his wife called to to him, -

"Where are you going, father?"

"To Joshua's room."

"Don't go, George. Come and sit down; I want to speak to you."

Mr. Marvel resumed his seat, and Mrs. Marvel refilled his pipe and handed it to him, with a light, "There! smoke your pipe and don't be so restless."

He took a few whiffs, and asked who was with Joshua.

"Ellen and Dan; and they are very happy and comfortable. I peeped in once, and I wouldn't disturb them."

"Oh!" said Mr. Marvel reflectively dwelling lengthily upon that smallest of words.

"I have reasons, George," said Mrs. Marvel quietly. "I never saw Ellen look so happy and pretty as she looks tonight."

Mr. Marvel nodded two or three times with an expression of satisfaction. "Do you think, mother," he commenced; and then he paused, and repeated, "Do you think, mother, that" – and then he paused again, as if he had said enough to make his meaning clear.

"Yes, I do, George," said Mrs. Marvel. "I had my doubts, but now I really think it will be so."

"That will be a real good thing;" rubbing his hands. "Here's hoping so!" and he drank a full glass of beer to his mysterious toast.

What was going on up stairs that the wood-turner and his wife were loath to interrupt? Merely a recalling of old reminiscences and a closer drawing together of three hearts, which might have been one, for the undivided affection for each other with which they were filled.

"Thinking of then, when every thing before us was so uncertain, and of now, when every thing before us is so bright and clear," said Joshua, "makes me almost believe that our ways are shaped for us, and that, if we strive to do our duty, our reward is certain."

"It is too deep a question for us, Jo," said Dan; "so many considerations spring out of it. As to whether every good man is happy. As to whether every man who strives to do right is spared pain and misery. At all events, it is certain that the very best thing to do is to do what is right, and to be straightforward and honest. It is not too often done, I am afraid. I haven't seen any thing of the world, but it strikes me that that is not the way of it."

"If ever I am captain of a ship-and I may be, Dan-it looks promising" -

"That it does, Jo."

"You shall come with me a voyage. I will have every thing snug for you; hammock on deck the same as that day we spent with the Old Sailor-ah, what a day was that!"

"I can recall every moment of it; from the night before, when Ellen stood at the window watching the rain, and my waking up in the morning waiting for you to come-oh, so anxiously! And the flowers, and the birds-the poor birds! – and the breakfast, and the ride! I tell you what, Jo, stories could be made out of these things. But the day wouldn't have been the day it was if Ellen had not been with us."

Ellen smiled, and her eyes sparkled.

"Every thing connected with it is so vivid to my mind just now," said Joshua, "that it only wants one thing to make it complete; and that is for Ellen to sing 'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses,' as she sang it in the Old Sailor's cabin."

Ellen, in a low voice, sang the song; and they were silent for a long while, musing happily. Then Joshua made a remark that his pillow was not nicely arranged, and Ellen smoothed it for him. Her arm necessarily was round his neck for a moment-only for a moment by her own will; for when she would have withdrawn it, Joshua held it there, and she, with impulse as pure as pure heart and mind could make it, allowed it to remain. What wonder that a silence of longer duration followed?

Ah! if a magic spell had fallen upon them then, a spell that would have transfixed them and made their happiness eternal!

Not one of them knew how long that blissful trance lasted. It was broken by the slightest sound-it might have been the opening of a door, or even the light tread of our old friend the tortoise-shell cat-but whatever the sound was, the trance was at an end, and they were all awake again. Ellen withdrew her arm, and, with downcast eyes, hurriedly left the room. Joshua turned to Dan, and holding out his hand, said, "Dan, take my hand, and say, Brother Jo."

"I do. Brother Jo!"

"That's good; isn't it, Dan?"

"Yes, Jo."

"Brothers more than in heart, Dan, as we have always been. But Brothers really and truly, if Ellen says yes."

"Ellen loves you, Jo. You have but to ask." He paused for a little while before he spoke again. "There is something in my mind that it is right you should know. It is the only thing I have ever kept from you; but now, since you have told me about yourself and Ellen" -

"Did you ever doubt it, Dan?"

"I wasn't certain, Jo. You have removed a great weight from my heart. It seems strange that now, when I see the almost certain prospect of your future being as bright as we used to hope it would be-it seems strange that I cannot say I am happy. Yet one thing would make me so perfectly."

"There is no cloud between you and me, Dan?"

"None-nor ever will be, brother of my heart. But a great hope, shadowed by a great fear, has entered into my soul-a hope which fulfilled, would make earth heaven for me. Is it too precious a thing to pray for? It seems so to me. I tremble as I think of it. But if it is not to be, I hope I shall soon die."

"Dan!" cried Joshua in alarm, for Dan's last words were like a cry of agony.

"Haven't you seen it, Jo? Haven't you suspected it? I love her so that, if I knew she were lost to me, I scarcely think I could live. I love her so that, if she were lost to me, some stronger motive, some stronger feeling than any I can now think of; would have to animate me to make my future less black than the blackest night."

"You mean Minnie, Dan?"

"Yes; she is my light. Ah, Jo! How I love her! I have never spoken of it till now; I have never dared to breathe it. And now that I speak of it for the first time, it frightens me."

"Nay, Dan, take courage. You are frightened by shadows."

"If I could think so!" mused Dan in a less agitated voice. "What can I, a cripple, offer her? Love? Yes, I can offer her that, pure and undefiled. Nothing more-nothing more! Keep my secret, Jo."

"Yes, Dan," said Joshua sadly.

"If all should come right in the end, Jo! You and Ellen, and me and Minnie!"

He trembled, and burying his face in his hands, thought of the happy night when the Old Sailor traced Joshua's course on the map, and when Minnie's arm was round his neck and her cheek had touched his. How many times had he thought of those few blissful moments, and what balm and comfort had the memory brought him!

CHAPTER XIX

SUNSHINE AND CLOUD

"George," said Mrs. Marvel to her husband one night, when they were alone in their room, "what has come over Mr. Kindred? He is quite changed."

"I've noticed it too, mother," said Mr. Marvel, "but I haven't thought of it much, because, to tell you the truth, I don't believe he is quite right here" – touching his forehead.

Mrs. Marvel had not mentioned to any one-not even to her husband-how Minnie had distressed her during Joshua's illness. The girl had not asked her to keep silence upon the subject; indeed, no word had passed between them about it; but Mrs. Marvel judged that it would be best for Minnie's sake, and for Joshua's also, to let the matter rest. Since the night when Mrs. Marvel had discovered Minnie lying asleep at Joshua's door, the girl had given her no further cause for displeasure. Mrs. Marvel's fears were dispelled; for Minnie showed nothing more than a friendly interest in Joshua's recovery. But if the good mother had been less openly observant of Minnie's every look and action, her fears would have grown stronger. For after the interview between Joshua and Minnie, when Joshua had thanked her and kissed her her, Mrs. Marvel set herself the task of closely observing Minnie's conduct towards Joshua. And Minnie discovered it, and so behaved herself that Mrs. Marvel was thrown completely off her guard. Minnie displayed a carelessness and an indifference concerning Joshua's health, at which Mrs. Marvel at any other time would have been hurt; but now she was silently grateful, in the belief that her fears were groundless.

Joshua was better. With the exception of a scar upon his neck, where the Lascar had stabbed him, he was as well and strong as ever he had been. He had grown into a fine handsome man; and the affectionate disposition which had characterized him as a boy seemed to have become stronger with his strength. The affection that existed between him and Dan was unchanged and unchangeable. He took as much delight in the birds as ever he had done; and, notwithstanding that he and Dan were men now, with deepened passions and stronger aspirations, their hearts were as tender to each other as in the younger days of their friendship, when they mingled their tears together over the death of Golden Cloud.

Every thing was bright before them. Dan had not spoken to Minnie of his love for her; but he was made happy by a gradual change in her behavior towards him. She grew more and more affectionate, spoke softly to him, looked kindly at him, and did not repulse the little tender advances he dared to make to her now and then.

"When you are gone to sea, Jo," he said to Joshua in the course of a conversation in which, in the fulness of his joy at Minnie's kindness, he had unbosomed himself to his friend, "I shall speak to her, and tell her I love her." He spoke very slowly, and his eyes were toward the ground; it was so sacred a subject with him, that his voice trembled when he spoke of it. "Once on a time, before I knew her, Jo, you, and you alone, filled my heart; but I had no idea then of a man's passions and a man's fears. I think I should have disbelieved any person then who told me that you would have a rival in my heart. But you have, Jo; although you are not less loved for all that."

"I understand you, Dan, and am content. I am proud of your love. If I were to lose it, the sweetness would go out of life."

"So it would be with me, Jo; but you can never lose it-never, never. I think you and I know what love is. In the midst of all our trouble when you first went away-trouble that came upon us so suddenly that I began to be frightened of it-I found consolation in thinking of our love for each other. Misfortunes came. Never mind, I thought; Joshua loves me. Mother died, father died; we were left penniless; and I thought of you and was comforted. You had grown so in my heart-like the roots of a tree, Jo-that if I had ceased to love you, my heart would have ceased to beat. It is the same now; but Minnie is in my heart side by side with you. I shall tell her, you know, by and by. By and by," he repeated softly. "The thought of it is like heaven to me; for I have begun to hope."