The End of the World: A Love Story

  CHAPTER XXXV.

  GETTING READY FOR THE END.

  How Julia spent two hours of blessed sadness at the castle; how Augustslept peacefully for five minutes at a time with his hand in hers, andthen awoke and looked at her, and then slumbered again; how shemoistened his parched lips for him, and gave him wine; how at last shehad to bid him a painful farewell; how the mother gave her a benedictionin German and a kiss; how Wilhelmina clung to her with tears; how Jonascalled her a turtle-dove angel; how Brother Hall, the preacher who hadbeen sent for at the mother's request, to converse with the dying man,spoke a few consoling words to her; how Gottlieb confided to Jonas hisintention never to "sprach nodin 'pout Yangee kirls no more;" and how atlast Uncle Andrew walked home with her, I have not time to tell. Whenthe Philosopher bade her adieu, he called her names which she did notunderstand. But she turned back to him, and after a minute's hesitation,spoke huskily. "Uncle Andrew if he--if he should get worse--I want--"

  "I know, my daughter; you want him to die your husband?"

  "Yes, if he wishes it. Send for me day or night, and I'll come in spiteof everybody."

  "God bless you, my daughter!" said Andrew. And he watched until she gotsafely into the house without discovery, and then he went back satisfiedand proud.

  Of course August died, and Julia devoted herself to philanthropiclabors. It is the fashion now for novels to end thus sadly, and youwould not have me be out of the fashion.

  But August did not die. Joy is a better stimulant than wine. Love is thebest tonic in the pharmacopeia. And from the hour in which August Wehlelooked into the eyes of Julia, the tide of life set back again. Notperceptibly at first. For two days he was neither better nor worse. Butthis was a gain. Then slowly he came back to life. But at Andrew'sinstance he kept indoors while Humphreys staid.

  Humphreys, on his part, like Ananias, pretended to have disposed of allhis property, paid his debts, reserved enough to live on until theapproaching day of doom, and given the rest to the poor of the householdof faith, and there were several others who were sincere enough to dowhat he only pretended.

  Among the leading Adventists was "Dr." Ketchup, who still dealt outcorn-sweats and ginseng-tea, but who refused to sell his property. Heexcused himself by quoting the injunction, "Occupy till I come." Butothers sold their estates for trifles, and gave themselves up toproclaiming the millennium.

  Mrs. Abigail Anderson was a woman who did nothing by halves. She wasvixenish, she was selfish, she was dishonest and grasping; but she wasreligious. If any man think this paradox impossible, he has observedcharacter superficially. There are criminals in State's-prison who havebeen very devout all their lives. Religious questions took hold of Mrs.Anderson's whole nature. She was superstitious, narrow, and intense. Shewas as sure that the day of judgment would be proclaimed on the eleventhof August, 1843, as she was of her life. No consideration in oppositionto any belief of hers weighed a feather with her. Her will mastered herjudgment and conscience.

  And so she determined that Samuel must sell his property for a trifle.How far she was influenced in this by a sincere desire to square alloutstanding debts before the final settlement, how far by a longing tobe considered the foremost and most pious of all, and how far bybusiness shrewdness based on that feeling which still lurks in the mostprotestant people, that such sacrifices do improve their state in afuture world, I can not tell. Doubtless fanaticism, hypocrisy, and aself-interest that looked sordidly even at heaven, mingled in bringingabout the decision. At any rate, the property was to be sold for a fewhundred dollars.

  Getting wind of this decision, Andrew promptly appeared at his brother'shouse and offered to buy it. But Mrs. Abigail couldn't think of it.Andrew had always been her enemy, and though she forgave him, she wouldnot on any account sell him an inch of the land. It would not be right.He had claimed that part of it belonged to him, and to let him have itwould be to admit his claim.

  "Andrew," she said, "you do not believe in the millennium, and peoplesay that you are a skeptic. You want to cheat us out of what you think avaluable piece of property. And you'll find yourself at the lastjudgment with the weight of this sin on your heart. You will, indeed!"

  "How clearly you reason about other people's duty!" said thePhilosopher. "If you had seen your own duty half so clearly, some of uswould have been better off, and your account would have beenstraighter."

  Here Mrs. Anderson grew very angry, and vented her spleen in a solemnexhortation to Andrew to get ready for the coming of the Master, notthree weeks off at the farthest, and she warned him that the archangelmight blow his trumpet at any moment. Then where would he be? she askedin exultation. Human meanness is never so pitiful as when it tries toseize on God's judgments as weapons with which to gratify its ownspites. I trust this remark will not be considered as applying only toMrs. Anderson.

  But Mrs. Anderson fired off all the heavenly small-shot she could findin the teeth and eyes of Andrew, and then, to prevent a rejoinder, shetold him it was time for her to go to secret prayer, and she onlystopped upon the threshold to send back one Parthian arrow in the shapeof a warning to "watch and be ready."

  I wonder if a certain class of religious people have ever thought howmuch their exclusiveness and Pharisaism have to do with the unhappyfruitlessness of all their appeals! Had Mrs. Anderson been as blamelessas an angel, such exhortations would have driven a weaker than Andrew tohate the name of religion.

  But I must not moralize, for Mr. Humphreys has already divulged his planof disposing of the property. He has a friend, one Thomas A. Parkins,who has money, and who will buy the farm at two hundred dollars. Hecould procure the money in advance any day by going to the village ofBethany, the county-seat, and drawing on Mr. Parkins, and cashing thedraft. It was a matter of indifference to him, he said, only that hewould like to oblige so good a friend.

  This arrangement, by which the Anderson farm was to be sold for a songto some distant stranger, pleased Mrs. Abigail. She could not bear thatone of her unbelieving neighbors should even for a fortnight rejoice ina supposed good bargain at her expense. To sell to Mr. Humphreys'sfriend in Louisville was just the thing. When pressed by some of herneighbors who had not received the Adventist gospel, to tell on whatprinciple she could justify her sale of the farm at all, she answeredthat if the farm would not be of any account after the end of the world,neither would the money.

  Mr. Humphreys went down to the town of Bethany and came back, affectingto have cashed a draft on his friend for two hundred dollars. The deedswere drawn, and a justice of the peace was to come the next morning andtake the acknowledgment of Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.

  This was what Jonas learned as he sat in the kitchen talking to CynthyAnn. He had come to bring some message from the convalescent August, andhad been detained by the attraction of adhesion.

  "I told you it was fox-and-geese. Didn't I? And so Thomas A. Parkins_is_ his name. Gus Wehle said he'd bet the two was one. Well, I mustdrive this varmint off afore he gits his chickens."