In the midst of their reverie they became suddenly aware that Dr. Chubbuck was standing in the doorway of the sick-room, ready to speak to them. Both men felt that the end was approaching, or had already come, and they rose reverently to their feet. The doctor advanced a few steps into the room, and spoke low, but distinctly:—
“Gentlemen, the crisis has passed. The temperature has risen to normal, and the patient has just fallen into a restful sleep. I believe he will live.”
Then he turned and went back into Dannie’s room. For a moment both men stood as if stunned. Instinctively they gazed into each other’s faces. Then Abner Pickett, with great strides, crossed the room to where Charlie stood. He put a trembling hand on each of his son’s stalwart shoulders, and looked straight into his clear blue eyes.
“My son,” he said, [“I have been to blame.”]
And Charlie, putting his arm caressingly about the old man’s neck, replied:—
“Father, for all that I have done against your wish and will, forgive me!”
That was all. No more words were necessary. The reconciliation was complete. That which even Dannie’s death could not have brought about was accomplished in one instant by the announcement that he would live. Joy will sometimes crush the heart that sorrow cannot touch.
A minute later, when Aunt Martha was about to cross the room hurriedly on some errand of mercy, she stopped suddenly, astounded at the sight that greeted her. But she grasped at once the beautiful meaning of it all, and raising her eyes devoutly toward heaven, she gently murmured:—
“Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory!”