While the earth is being replaced, Trueman speaks to Ethel. She partially revives, and seems to understand that her father's body is being interred. When this thought has been fully grasped she realizes that she is being supported in Harvey's arms. She makes an instinctive effort to escape from his clasp; an instant later she looks up into his face and asks: "You will not leave me?" She pauses. "Give my millions to the people. I hate the thought of money. Only tell me that you will not desert me!"
"No, my darling," comes the whisper, "I shall never be parted from you again, so long as we live. The priest could not perform the burial service; he can, however, make us man and wife."
As he speaks, Harvey places Ethel gently on her feet.
Standing side by side at the grave which holds victor and vanquished in the great war for the recovery of the rights of man, Harvey Trueman and Ethel Purdy present a strange contrast. He is the acknowledged leader of the plain people; she is the richest woman in America. For him, every one within reach of his voice has the deepest love and admiration; for the hapless woman beside him, there is not a man or woman who would turn a hand to keep her from starving.
If the men and women of Wilkes-Barre can be made to sanction the union of Trueman and Ethel Purdy, is there any reason to doubt that the question of social inequalities can be settled without bloodshed? Trueman determines to venture his election, his future, his life, to win the greatest triumph of his career, a wife whom the world despises as the favorite of fatuous fortune.
With a voice vibrant with emotion he addresses the multitude. Now by subtle argument, now by impassioned appeal he pictures the conditions that made Ethel's life so utterly different from theirs; how it was impossible for her to sympathize with them when she had known no sorrow, when her every wish had always been gratified. He pictures her as she appears before them; a daughter whose father has been stricken, as if by a blow from Heaven; a woman left friendless; for the friends of prosperity are never those of adversity. Thus he awakens a feeling of pity in the hearts of the people for the woman they have so recently reviled. Pity gives place to love as he tells them that Ethel Purdy wishes to give to the citizens of Wilkes-Barre the millions that her father has hoarded; when he concludes by telling them that she is to become his wife, an acclaim of rejoicing is given.
The priest, this time without reluctance, pronounces Harvey Trueman and
Ethel Purdy man and wife.
"Go to your homes, my good brothers and sisters," Trueman counsels, "for to-morrow you enter upon your inheritance through the speedy channel of voluntary restoration; you are blessed of all men and women, perhaps, because you have long been the most grievously sinned against.
"Let no one commit an act of violence. It is from you that the country is to take its signal; you have curbed the hand of anarchy. What you have done will strengthen others to be patient. No one will have to wait longer than the next election to have wrongs set right."
The silence that awe induces takes possession of the people. They disperse quietly to their homes. At two o'clock there is no one on the streets.