It is long past midnight. As I look out of window, I see that the moon has risen, and that the heavens are filled with stars. My garden is really beautiful now, with the light shining upon it. I have never seen my property present so fair an aspect as it does at this present moment. The river is very beautiful also. I will go out and stroll along the banks, or sit and muse, as the whim seizes me. Shall I wish you 'Good-night before I go? No, I will wait until I return.
* * * * *
Three hours have passed since I wrote the last words. I have heard no human voice, and yet it seems to me that I have heard voices. The air has grown very sweet. Flecks of gold are coming into the sky. I have watched their faint colour grow strong. It is sunrise. A golden mist is rising from the waters. I cannot tell you what has passed through my mind during the last few hours. I cannot tell you what is in it now. I can scarcely comprehend it myself, but I feel happier than I have felt for some time. I cannot wish you Good-night, for the night has passed. Good-morning, Andrew!
XV.
[FAIRHAVEN.]
The perusal of this remarkable document affected me beyond power of description. My mother's letter to Mr. Fairhaven brought her dear figure vividly to my mind's eye, and I sobbed from happiness. It was love that had accomplished this wonderful thing--love, which death cannot destroy.
I read the latter portion of the document again and again, until I could almost repeat the words from memory. 'Good-morning, Andrew,' were Mr. Fairhaven's last words to me. Ah, yes! In the night of his life the morning had dawned sweetly and holily. I blessed him for his noble revenge. I prayed for strength, for wisdom, to worthily fulfil the solemn trust reposed in me.
But in what way to apply it, so that unalloyed good might spring from its use? My heart cried out, 'Teach me! Show me the way!' An answer came. Side by side I saw the figures of Ruth and Blade-o'-Grass. 'Look here and here,' a voice seemed to say to me. 'See this one trodden into the mire. See this one tended, cared for, raised to purity and usefulness.' I trembled with mingled fear and happiness. A great thought loomed upon my mind, like a sunrise to my soul.
I placed my hand upon my heart to still its beating. I was alone, and I yearned for the presence of friends in whom I could confide. Should I go to those who were dearest to me--to Rachel and to Mrs. Silver, and tell them this wonderful news? I started to my feet with the intention of proceeding at once to Buttercup-square. I placed the precious document in my breast-pocket, and I buttoned my coat tightly and securely. But what, after all, if it should prove a mockery? No, I would wait until I had assured myself. I knew what hopes would be raised in their breasts, and I would spare them a possible disappointment.
If it were not mockery--if it were true, clear, incontestable--this immense fortune was at my disposal to do as I pleased with. Not to spend upon myself; to spend upon others; to sow and reap the crop. Golden Grain!