'He is an old man, worn with care and work.He is a spare,dejected, thoughtful, grey-haired man.I see him now, despondentand bowed down, and striving against nothing.But, Bertha, I haveseen him many times before, and striving hard in many ways for onegreat sacred object.And I honour his grey head, and bless him!'
The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing herself upon herknees before him, took the grey head to her breast.
'It is my sight restored.It is my sight!' she cried.'I havebeen blind, and now my eyes are open.I never knew him! To thinkI might have died, and never truly seen the father who has been soloving to me!'
There were no words for Caleb's emotion.
'There is not a gallant figure on this earth,' exclaimed the BlindGirl, holding him in her embrace, 'that I would love so dearly, andwould cherish so devotedly, as this! The greyer, and more worn,the dearer, father! Never let them say I am blind again.There'snot a furrow in his face, there's not a hair upon his head, thatshall be forgotten in my prayers and thanks to Heaven!'
Caleb managed to articulate 'My Bertha!'
'And in my blindness, I believed him,' said the girl, caressing himwith tears of exquisite affection, 'to be so different! And havinghim beside me, day by day, so mindful of me - always, never dreamedof this!'
'The fresh smart father in the blue coat, Bertha,' said poor Caleb.
'He's gone!'
'Nothing is gone,' she answered.'Dearest father, no! Everythingis here - in you.The father that I loved so well; the father thatI never loved enough, and never knew; the benefactor whom I firstbegan to reverence and love, because he had such sympathy for me;All are here in you.Nothing is dead to me.The soul of all thatwas most dear to me is here - here, with the worn face, and thegrey head.And I am NOT blind, father, any longer!'
Dot's whole attention had been concentrated, during this discourse,upon the father and daughter; but looking, now, towards the littleHaymaker in the Moorish meadow, she saw that the clock was within afew minutes of striking, and fell, immediately, into a nervous andexcited state.
'Father,' said Bertha, hesitating.'Mary.'
'Yes, my dear,' returned Caleb.'Here she is.'
'There is no change in HER.You never told me anything of HER thatwas not true?'
'I should have done it, my dear, I am afraid,' returned Caleb, 'ifI could have made her better than she was.But I must have changedher for the worse, if I had changed her at all.Nothing couldimprove her, Bertha.'
Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she asked the question,her delight and pride in the reply and her renewed embrace of Dot,were charming to behold.
'More changes than you think for, may happen though, my dear,' saidDot.'Changes for the better, I mean; changes for great joy tosome of us.You mustn't let them startle you too much, if any suchshould ever happen, and affect you? Are those wheels upon theroad? You've a quick ear, Bertha.Are they wheels?'
'Yes.Coming very fast.'
'I - I - I know you have a quick ear,' said Dot, placing her handupon her heart, and evidently talking on, as fast as she could tohide its palpitating state, 'because I have noticed it often, andbecause you were so quick to find out that strange step last night.
Though why you should have said, as I very well recollect you didsay, Bertha, "Whose step is that!" and why you should have takenany greater observation of it than of any other step, I don't know.
Though as I said just now, there are great changes in the world:
great changes: and we can't do better than prepare ourselves to besurprised at hardly anything.'
Caleb wondered what this meant; perceiving that she spoke to him,no less than to his daughter.He saw her, with astonishment, sofluttered and distressed that she could scarcely breathe; andholding to a chair, to save herself from falling.
'They are wheels indeed!' she panted.'Coming nearer! Nearer!
Very close! And now you hear them stopping at the garden-gate!
And now you hear a step outside the door - the same step, Bertha,1
She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight; and running up toCaleb put her hands upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into theroom, and flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping downupon them.
'Is it over?' cried Dot.
'Yes!'
'Happily over?'
'Yes!'
'Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear thelike of it before?' cried Dot.
'If my boy in the Golden South Americas was alive' - said Caleb,trembling.
'He is alive!' shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes, andclapping them in ecstasy; 'look at him! See where he stands beforeyou, healthy and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear living,loving brother, Bertha
All honour to the little creature for her transports! All honourto her tears and laughter, when the three were locked in oneanother's arms! All honour to the heartiness with which she metthe sunburnt sailor-fellow, with his dark streaming hair, half-way,and never turned her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him tokiss it, freely, and to press her to his bounding heart!
And honour to the Cuckoo too - why not! - for bursting out of thetrap-door in the Moorish Palace like a house-breaker, andhiccoughing twelve times on the assembled company, as if he had gotdrunk for joy!
The Carrier, entering, started back.And well he might, to findhimself in such good company.
'Look, John!' said Caleb, exultingly, 'look here! My own boy fromthe Golden South Americas! My own son! Him that you fitted out,and sent away yourself! Him that you were always such a friendto!'
The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; but, recoiling, assome feature in his face awakened a remembrance of the Deaf Man inthe Cart, said:
'Edward! Was it you?'
'Now tell him all!' cried Dot.'Tell him all, Edward; and don'tspare me, for nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes, everagain.'
'I was the man,' said Edward.
