“I hope to prove worthy of your confidence and regard, Tom.” I replied, clasping his hand. “I shall be glad to go into business with you.”
“In the spring, then, we will do so. Now I am over here, I mean to see something of Europe. You must write to your uncle, stating the amount of the deficit. Give him a draft on Mr. Townsend, who is your aunt’s executor, for the whole sum. Write to the executor yourself, also, directing him to take care of the balance till your return.”
“I have about the value of thirty thousand dollars with me,” I added, with a blush, as I thought of the means by which I had obtained it.
After this conference I felt more cheerful than for months before. I realized that Tom’s earnest prayer for me had been heard, and that God had forgiven my great sin. I pledged myself anew to be faithful. I trembled when I thought that, if my aunt’s dying bounty had not been interposed to save me, I might have spent a portion of my life in prison. Truly, I had every thing to be grateful for. When, after Tom and Bertha had retired, I told Lilian what had passed between my friend and myself, she wept tears of joy and gratitude.
My story is told. We travelled in Europe till the end of February, and then sailed from Cadiz to Havana, and thence proceeded to New Orleans. I wrote to my uncle, and sent him the requisite papers to adjust my accounts. He replied to me in a very good-natured strain, for to him crime undiscovered was no crime at all. I wrote to my mother, also. I could not wound her with the terrible truth, and therefore did not allude to the reasons for my leaving Boston.
When we got home, we were warmly welcomed by all our friends. I was regarded as a rich man, for a young one, and people were not disposed to ask hard questions. I do not think my mother was ever fully satisfied as to the reason of my leaving Boston so suddenly, but she did not press me for an explanation.
Tom and I went into business in the spring. After paying every dollar I owed, I had about forty thousand dollars. My partner put in twenty thousand dollars, and I the same. We are doing well, and both of us stand well in the community. Mr. Bristlebach is dead, and my uncle still keeps my secret.
I bought a house similar to the one I had occupied for so brief a period in Needham Street, and our home was all that peace, plenty and grateful hearts could make it.
I do not yet feel like an innocent man; I can never feel so. I shall regret and repent my sin to the end of my life. But I appreciate all my blessings, not the least of which is my wife, who has been my guardian angel since the day that her horror of my crime assured me of the reality of truth and goodness.
I am trying, by every means in my power, to atone for my error, for which a lifetime is no more than sufficient. I was not inclined to evil by nature or by education, and, I still feel that my crime was the legitimate result of Living too Fast.