University of Virginia Library

34. CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE BROTHERS.

PATTY had received, by the hand of Brady, a
letter from her father, asking her to come home.
Do not think that Captain Lumsden wrote penitently
and asked Patty's forgiveness. Captain Lumsden never
did anything otherwise than meanly. He wrote that
he was now bedridden with rheumatism, and it seemed
hard that he should be forsaken by his oldest daughter,
who ought to be the stay of his declining years. He
did not understand how Patty could pretend to be so
religious and yet leave him to suffer without the
comfort of her presence. The other children were
young, and the house was in hopeless confusion. If
the Methodists had not quite turned her heart away
from her poor afflicted father, she would come at once
and help him in his troubles. He was ready to forgive
the past, and as for her religion, if she did not trouble
him with it, she could do as she pleased. He did not
think much of a religion that set a daughter against
her father, though.

Patty was too much rejoiced at the open door that
it set before her to feel the sting very keenly. There
was another pain that had grown worse with every day
she had spent with Morton. Beside her own sorrow

she felt for him. There was a strange restlessness in
his eyes, an eager and vacillating activity in what he
was doing, that indicated how fearfully the tempest
raged within. For Morton's old desperation was upon
him, and Patty was in terror for the result, About the
time of Kike's death the dove settled upon his soul
also. He had mastered himself, and the restless wildness
had given place to a look of constraint and
suffering that was less alarming but hardly less distressing
to Patty, who had also the agony of hiding
her own agony. But the disappearance of Pinkey had
awakened some hope in her. Not one jot of this
trembling hopefulness did she dare impart to Morton,
who for his part had but one consolation—he would
throw away his life in the battle, as Kike had done
before him.

So eager was Patty to leave her school now and
hasten to her father, that she could not endure to stay
the weeks that were necessary to complete her term.
She had canvassed with Doctor Morgan the possibility
of etting some one to take her place, and both had
concluded that there was no one available, Miss Jane
Morgan being too much out of health. But to their
surprise Nettie offered her services. She had not been
of much more use in the world than a humming-bird,
she said, and now it seemed to her that Kike would
be better pleased that she should make herself useful.

Thus released, Patty started home immediately, and
Morton, who could not reach the distant part of his
circuit, upon which his supply was now preaching, in
time to resume his work at once, concluded to set out

for Hissawachee also, that he might see how his parents
fared. But he concealed his purpose from Patty, who
departed in company with Brady and his wife. Morton
would not trust himself in her society longer. He
therefore rode round by a circuitous way, and, thanks
to Dolly, reached Hissawachee before them.

I may not describe the enthusiasm with which
Morton was received at home. Scarcely had he kissed
his mother and shaken hands with his father, who was
surprised that none of his dolorous predictions had
been fulfilled, and greeted young Henry, now shooting
up into manhood, when his mother whispered to him
that his brother Lewis was alive and had come
home.

“What! Lewis alive?” exclaimed Morton, “I
thought he was killed in Pittsburg ten years ago.”

“That was a false report. He had been doing
badly, and he did not want to return, and so he let
us believe him dead. But now he has come back and
he is afraid you will not receive him kindly. I suppose
he thinks because you are a preacher you will be hard
on his evil ways. But you wont be too hard, will
you?”

“I? God knows I have been too great a sinner
myself for that. Where is Lew? I can just remember
how he used to whittle boats for me when I was a
little boy. I remember the morning he ran off, and
how after that you always wanted to move West.
Poor Lew! Where has he gone?”

His mother opened the door of the little bed-room
and led out the brother.

[ILLUSTRATION]

THE BROTHERS.

[Description: 554EAF. Page 316. In-line engraving of five figures; two standing men speak to each other while a standing woman, a standing man, and a seated man look on.]

“What! Burchard?” cried Morton. “What does
this mean? Are you Lewis Goodwin?”

“I am!”

“That 's why you gave me back my horse and gun
when you found out who I was. That 's how you
saved me that day at Brewer's Hole. And that's why
you warned me at Salt Fork and sent me that other
warning. Well, Lewis, I would be glad to see you
anyhow, but I ought to be not only glad as a brother,
but glad that I can thank you for saving my life.”

“But I' ve been a worse man than you think, Mort.'

“What of that? God forgives, and I am sure that
it is not for such a sinner as I am to condemn you.
If you knew what desperate thoughts have tempted me
in the last week you would know how much I am
your brother.”

Just here Brady knocked at the door and pushed
it open, with a “Howdy, Misses Goodwin? Howdy,
Mr. Goodwin? and, Moirton, howdy do?”

“This is my brother Lewis, Mr. Brady. We thought
he was dead.”

“Heigh-ho! The prodigal 's come back agin, eh?
Mrs. Goodwin, I congratilate ye.”

And then Mrs. Brady was introduced to Lewis.
Patty, who stood behind, came forward, and Morton
said: “Miss Lumsden, my brother Lewis.”

“You need n't introduce her,” said Lewis. “She
knows me already. If it had n't been for her I might
have been dead, and in perdition, I suppose.

“Why, how 's that?” asked Morton, bewildered.

“She nursed me in sickness, and read the parable
of the Prodigal Son, and told me that it was my
mother's favorite chapter.”

“So it is,” said Mrs. Goodwin; “I 've read it
every day for years. But how did you know that,
Patty?”

“Why,” said Lewis, “she said that one woman
knew how another woman felt. But you don't know
how good Miss Lumsden is. She did not know me as
Lewis Goodwin or Burchard, but in quite a different
character. I suppose I 'd as well make a clean breast

of it, Mort, at once. Then there 'll be no surprises
afterward. And if you hate me when you know it all,
I can't help it.” With that he stepped into the bed-room
and came forth with long beard and wolf-skin cap.

“What! Pinkey?” said Morton, with horror.

“The Pinkey that you told that big preacher to
knock down, and then hunted all over the country to
find.”

Seeing Morton's pained expression at this discovery
of his brother's bad character, Patty added adroitly:
“The Pinkey that saved your life, Morton.”

Morton got up and stood before his brother. “Give
me your hand again, Lewis. I am so glad you came
home at last. God bless you.”

Lewis sat down and rested his head in his hands.
“I have been a very wicked man, Morton, but I never
committed a murder. I am guilty of complicity. I got
tangled in the net of Micajah Harp's band. I helped
them because they had a hold on me, and I was too
weak to risk the consequences of breaking with them.
That complicity has spoiled all my life. But the
crimes they laid on Pinkey were mostly committed by
others. Pinkey was a sort of ghost at whose doors all
sins were laid.”

“I must hurry home,” said Patty. “I only stopped
to shake hands,” and she rose to go.

“Miss Lumsden,” said Lewis, “you wanted me to
destroy these lies. You shall have them to do what
you like with. I wish you could take my sins, too.”

Patty put the disguises into the fire. “Only God
can take your sins,” she said.

“Even he can't make me forget them,” said Lewis,
with bitterness.

Patty went home in anxiety. Lewis Goodwin
seemed to have forgotten the resolution he had made
as Pinkey to save Morton from Ann Eliza.

But Patty went home bravely and let thoughts of
present duty crowd out thoughts of possible happiness.
She bore the peculiar paternal greetings of her father;
she installed herself at once, and began, like a good
genius, to evolve order out of chaos. By the time
evening arrived the place had come to know its mistress
again.