I think, when we meet again in heaven, after that severance which is inevitable to those who wear a mortal shape, we may feel as we did then, but never before! The rapture—the relief—the spiritual ecstasy—surmounting, as on wings of fire, pain, fatigue, suspense, anguish of mind and body—were in themselves lessons of immortality beyond any that book or sage has issued from midnight vigil or earthly tabernacle.
Not until a new order of things is established, and we have done with tribulation, tears, and death, shall we again know such sensations; nor is it indeed quite certain that human heart and brain could twice sustain them here below!
CHAPTER XIV.
Reaction came at last! Life is full of bathos as well as pathos. An hour later, we four companions in the rejoicing over this redemption, if chiefly strangers before, were partaking cheerfully together of hot coffee and oysters. The services of Mrs. Jessup had been called in—the doctor's excellent old Quaker house-keeper—and, amid many "thous" and "thees," she had served us a capital and expeditious supper.
No one enjoyed the festive occasion more than Mr. Burress, who, on the point of stealing lightly away after witnessing from the front study the scene of recognition and meeting, had been arrested on the threshold by Dr. Pemberton himself.
Either to allow a full explanation between two long-parted lovers, or to conceal his own emotion and get back his customary calm, our dear doctor had seen fit to step into the front-study for a few minutes, and he checked Mr. Burress, with his hand on the door knob, with some very natural questions as to the mode and time of our meeting, and ended by requiring his presence at the slight collation he ordered at once.
The part the worthy apothecary had played' in my closing adventure; the certainty that to his zeal and promptness I owed my immunity from further captivity—for, had I walked around the square in the usual way, the men at watch from the carriage-windows must have espied and seized me—or, had we loitered in the alley, and arrived a moment later at the central house of Kendrick Row, there is no doubt that they would have been there to await my arrival, nor could Mr. Burress have saved me from their clutches—the whole thing seemed especially providential; but, as the efficient medium of such mercy, Napoleon B. Burress did, indeed, seem to all present crowned with a perfect nimbus of glory. Dr. Pemberton led him back to my presence with his arm encircling his shoulder; Captain Wentworth shook his hand mutely but long, with his eyes dimmed with tears, and words that found imperfect utterance, at last compelling him to strange silence.
"I thank you, I bless you," he said, at last. "I do not hope to be able to return such services, but, what I can do, command."