University of Virginia Library

20. CHAPTER XX.
SUNSHINE COMES TO-MORROW.

Why should we describe the scene which followed, or
busy ourselves with the disagreeable personage who has
thrust himself upon our canvas?

As there are scenes of beauty and grandeur which no
art can adequately portray, so there are base and ignoble
incidents, from the too close contemplation of which the
mind comes away as though its garments had been soiled.
As there are characters in the world of such exalted
goodness and loveliness that we take off our hats in their
presence, and thankfully salute them, bowing to them as
our superiors, and carrying away with us a sentiment of
purity and love, which gilds existence, making the very
sunshine brighter,—as there are human faces more beautiful
and tender than the dreams of the old painters, with
rapt eyes fixed on the sky, and waiting for Madonna to
beam on them,—as the world holds these entrancing and
pure visions of an infinite loveliness and beauty, so does
it exhibit, in its other departments, characters and faces
which the lowest grovelling of the meanest and most
brutal fancy never could approach; beings which we
struggle in our hearts to look on as deformities of human
nature, poor and weak as it may be—which we turn from,
and do not wish to touch, and gladly see depart from us.

It is enough to say, that soon after entering the dwelling
of the sick man, the official left it with a scowl, which
would have done justice to a disarmed demon, from whose
hand a prize had just been snatched.

There was this observable about Mr. Sansoucy, that in
any contest he generally acted with a calm knowledge of
his position and his strength; and the interview which
we have refrained from describing, proved this. He was
well-known to the officer, he had assumed the debt—after
that, the presence of the official was an impertinence.

He accordingly departed, not meeting Mr. Sansoucy's
eye, but turning with his scowl of hate and anger as he
disappeared.

If we have not described this scene, we may also omit
any description of what followed. The sick man had
only breathed harder, and looked on in silence—Ellie
only sobbed and cried silently—Charley only gazed with
terror at the mysterious intruder. As for Ellie she had
not so much as brought her mind to comprehend that the
law, which called itself Justice and Mercy, would aid any
one in depriving her sick uncle of the bed he lay upon.

Joe could not find words to thank Mr. Sansoucy, which
was very fortunate, as that gentleman seemed determined
to accept none at all. He explained the cause of his
presence, and said that as he had promised Ellie to be
their friend, if they needed him, he would faithfully fulfil
his promise. He would see that a good doctor—his own
physician—came to see the invalid; and just as soon as
he was better, they should have a comfortable lodging
elsewhere.

Let us add here, that all that he promised, Mr. Sansoucy
faithfully performed. That in fifteen or twenty
days—thanks to the new physician—Uncle Joe was well
enough to be removed; and that he was removed—and
that new quarters were in the large, somewhat dilapidated
building of which Aunt Phillis occupied the
cellar. There, with the reader's permission, we shall in
due time rejoin them, and narrate what other adventures
befell our little friend Ellie, not forgetting the adventures
of her friends also.

But we go too fast, and have left Mr. Sansoucy a long
way from home on a very cold night.

It was not easy for him to leave that grateful family
whom he had made happy—whose darkness and despair
he had turned into life and hope. At last he rose, and
put on his hat.

“Good-bye, friends,” he said, with his cheerful voice:
“It will not be long before I see you again. Come! no
thanks for anything which I have done—good-bye, little
one—as we say in letters, “always your friend!”

And he smoothed Ellie's hair, and turned away. But
before he could draw it away, or resist, or move, Ellie
caught the hand, and pressed it to her lips, and bathed
it with her warm, glad, happy tears.

He drew back quickly, gently repulsed her, and went
out. Walking along the chill and frozen streets, he felt
a warmth within his heart which laughed at all the bitter
cold. If all who can would only try this heart-warmth!
And gazing on the tears remaining on his hand, he
thought if blood were there, the stain would disappear,
though “all the perfumes of Arabia” had failed to
“sweeten it.”