THE RETURN.
In five minutes Agricola returned; his face was pale and agitated--his eyes glistened with tears, and his hands trembled; but his countenance expressed extraordinary happiness and emotion.He stood at the door for a moment, as if too much affected to accost his mother.
Frances's sight was so bad that she did not immediately perceive the change her son's countenance had undergone.
"Well, my child--what is it?" she inquired.
Before the blacksmith could reply, Mother Bunch, who had more discernment, exclaimed: "Goodness, Agricola--how pale you are! Whatever is the matter?"
"Mother," said the artisan, hastening to Frances, without replying to the sempstress,--"mother, expect news that will astonish you; but promise me you will be calm."
"What do you mean? How you tremble! Look at me! Mother Bunch was right--you are quite pale."
"My kind mother!" and Agricola, kneeling before Frances, took both her hands in his--"you must--you do not know,--but--"
The blacksmith could not go on.Tears of joy interrupted his speech.
"You weep, my dear child! Your tears alarm me.`What is the matter?--
you terrify me!"
"Oh, no, I would not terrify you; on the contrary," said Agricola, drying his eyes--"you will be so happy.But, again, you must try and command your feelings, for too much joy is as hurtful as too much grief."
"What?"
"Did I not say true, when I said he would come?"
"Father!" cried Frances.She rose from her seat; but her surprise and emotion were so great that she put one hand to her heart to still its beating, and then she felt her strength fail.Her son sustained her, and assisted her to sit down.
Mother Bunch, till now, had stood discreetly apart, witnessing from a distance the scene which completely engrossed Agricola and his mother.
But she now drew near timidly, thinking she might be useful; for Frances changed color more and more.
"Come, courage, mother," said the blacksmith; "now the shock is over, you have only to enjoy the pleasure of seeing my father."
"My poor man! after eighteen years' absence.Oh, I cannot believe it,"
said Frances, bursting into tears."Is it true? Is it, indeed, true?"
"So true, that if you will promise me to keep as calm as you can, I will tell you when you may see him."
"Soon--may I not?"
"Yes; soon."
"But when will he arrive?"
"He may arrive any minute--to-morrow--perhaps to-day."
"To-day!"
"Yes, mother! Well, I must tell you all--he has arrived."
"He--he is--" Frances could not articulate the word.
"He was downstairs just now.Before coming up, he sent the dyer to apprise me that I might prepare you; for my brave father feared the surprise might hurt you."
"Oh, heaven!"
"And now," cried the blacksmith, in an accent of indescribable joy--"he is there, waiting! Oh, mother! for the last ten minutes I have scarcely been able to contain myself--my heart is bursting with joy." And running to the door, he threw it open.
Dagobert, holding Rose and Blanche by the hand, stood on the threshold.
Instead of rushing to her husband's arms, Frances fell on her knees in prayer.She thanked heaven with profound gratitude for hearing her prayers, and thus accepting her offerings.During a second, the actors of this scene stood silent and motionless.Agricola, by a sentiment of respect and delicacy, which struggled violently with his affection, did not dare to fall on his father's neck.He waited with constrained impatience till his mother had finished her prayer.
The soldier experienced the same feeling as the blacksmith; they understood each other.The first glance exchanged by father and son expressed their affection--their veneration for that excellent woman, who in the fulness of her religious fervor, forgot, perhaps, too much the creature for the Creator.
Rose and Blanche, confused and affected, looked with interest on the kneeling woman; while Mother Bunch, shedding in silence tears of joy at the thought of Agricola's happiness, withdrew into the most obscure corner of the room, feeling that she was a stranger, and necessarily out of place in that family meeting.Frances rose, and took a step towards her husband, who received her in his arms.There was a moment of solemn silence.Dagobert and Frances said not a word.Nothing could be heard but a few sighs, mingled with sighs of joy.And, when the aged couple looked up, their expression was calm, radiant, serene; for the full and complete enjoyment of simple and pure sentiments never leaves behind a feverish and violent agitation.
"My children," said the soldier, in tones of emotion, presenting the orphans to Frances, who, after her first agitation, had surveyed them with astonishment, "this is my good and worthy wife; she will be to the daughters of General Simon what I have been to them."
"Then, madame, you will treat us as your children," said Rose, approaching Frances with her sister.
"The daughters of General Simon!" cried Dagobert's wife, more and more astonished.
"Yes, my dear Frances; I have brought them from afar not without some difficulty; but I will tell you that by and by."
"Poor little things! One would take them for two angels, exactly alike!"
said Frances, contemplating the orphans with as much interest as admiration.
"Now--for us," cried Dagobert, turning to his son.
"At last," rejoined the latter.
We must renounce all attempts to describe the wild joy of Dagobert and his son, and the crushing grip of their hands, which Dagobert interrupted only to look in Agricola's face; while he rested his hands on the young blacksmith's broad shoulders that he might see to more advantage his frank masculine countenance, and robust frame.Then he shook his hand again, exclaiming, "He's a fine fellow--well built--what a good-hearted look he has!"
From a corner of the room Mother Bunch enjoyed Agricola's happiness; but she feared that her presence, till then unheeded, would be an intrusion.
