From the Ancient to the present date, Suicide has appeared to some people as an egress by which they may escape all earthly trouble— They think that by tying a rope to a beam, that is, one end of the rope, and tying the other end around their neck, they can step up on a box, tie the rope up very short, and, kicking the box from under them, go to where the “wood-bine” twineth in less “nor no time,” as the trapper says.^[1] I will venture to say: that is a mistaken idea they have got. It is something like the ideas our modern murderers have; as soon as they commit a murder, they are prepared to die. To be brief: murder seems to be the road to heaven. That is not my idea at all.

But to return to the subject of the preceding chapter—Herbert took in the situation at a glance. He soon recovered his presence of mind and ran to Sowers and cut the rope, taking care to lay Sowers down on the floor as easily as possible. Herbert used every effort conceivable to bring the sinful old man back to consciousness. The vital spark of life had almost gone out.

Herbert was working with the energy bordering on despair when he was rewarded at last for his unrelaxing efforts to bring the old man from the “wood-bine regions.” Sowers opened his eyes, and, looking around for a while, he realized his critical situation. He glanced at, and recognized, Herbert sitting at his side.

“Oh Herbert!” exclaimed the old man as soon as he could speak. “In what way shall I reward you for your kindness? I was not worth cutting down. I have been a desperate man! I have heard some say revenge is sweet, but I can’t see it in that light—for I attempted to avenge myself for apparent wrong when I had that boy stolen. And I’ll confess, Herbert, it was a Miserable Revenge! How can I reward you for the timely assistance you rendered me?”

“Simply by not mentioning it,” replied Herbert. “Your daughter Mattie—God bless her—told me that she believed you would commit suicide if your wife did not forgive you. Though I have powerful nerve, I should have ran away from this stable and left you hanging. I would have been so frightened had not your dear daughter warned me. Mr. Sowers, are you aware of the fact that Mattie is dearer to me than any other living being?”

“No, I was not aware of the fact,” said Sowers, “but if you want her, take her. You are worthy of her, dear boy. I hope you may live and lead a happy life with her.”

“Thank you, sir, for your kind wishes,” said Herbert. “I am living in anticipation of calling her my own dear wife soon. Now Mr. Sowers, you must brave this out. I will stand by you in all troubles and trials. You must become reconciled to your wife, and at once this suspense will kill you or drive you mad. Come and I will try to effect a reconciliation between you.”

So saying, the young man rose and went with [the] old man from the stable to the house. Mrs. Sowers and Mattie were in the parlor entertaining their company when Herbert and the old man entered.

We must have the Reader understand this much in regard to the lady formerly called Mrs. Barton, now Miss Baker. She was still staying at Sowers’. Since the rain, she had not been staying at her house, although it was near. In fact, Dr. Maltby had asked Mrs. Sowers to persuade his “dear Jennie” to stay at Mr. Sowers’ house. Mrs. Sowers did so. Miss Baker did not seem to regret her husband’s sudden and fearful death. She was sure he and his amiable (?) daughter had fallen an easy prey to the furious waters of the once quiet—now raging—stream.

All her thoughts were: “If I had not married him, I would have been a happier person than what I am. But I do not regret that I have obeyed a mother’s dying wish. Oh, if Robert will only come and take me, how happy I will be!” She never breathed a word of this to anyone.

It was only in the silence of her bed-chamber that she mused upon this subject. She was one of the guests that Mrs. and Miss Sowers were entertaining when Herbert and the old man entered the parlor.

“Not now, Herbert,” whispered the old man. “Wait until a more convenient season.”

“All right, sir,” said Herbert in a low voice. They approached the group and were welcomed by Mr. Armstead. He had been sitting there idle for some time, as Sowers had been out for at least an hour. Mrs. Sowers was afraid something was wrong, but she didn’t say anything in regard to Sowers’ staying out so long. If the truth is stated, she loved Sowers with all her heart. It pained her now to act so unforgivingly and treat him so cool, yet she knew she was deceived by him, for when Sowers asked her the all-important question, he told her that she was his first love. She soon left the room after Sowers and Herbert came. She made a gesture to him to follow her. Herbert went with the old man, for he had resolved to see them reconciled to one another. Mrs. Sowers went into the sitting room as it was called. She casted furtive glances at Herbert, but Herbert was not all abashed. He had made up his mind to do a good deed for the old man, and he was not going to be thwarted in his purpose. We have been disregarding our old friend, the genial Mr. Kent. He spent the Sabbath in Winchester with Mr. Beverly. He returned to Brookland and came into the Sowers’ mansion. Just as Herbert and Sowers left the parlor, he bowed politely as he passed them. He also noticed the pallor of Sowers’ face.

Mrs. Sowers went into the sitting room, Sowers and Herbert fast following behind.

“Mrs. Sowers,” said Herbert apologetically, “I hope you will not consider my intrusion an insult. I have come in behalf of your husband. He will go mad if you do not forgive him. So please, think better of him and forgive him.”

“I am much obliged to you for your advice,” said Mrs. Sowers. “I have treated my husband very bad. I freely forgave him from the first, but refrained telling him.” Then, turning to Sowers, she said: “I freely forgive all, but you must thank Herbert, for I have done as he advised. I will be the same loving, confiding wife I have always been. My heart has been aching these few days—I wanted so bad to tell you I forgave you. And but for Herbert’s kind words, I do not believe I should have told you that I forgave you.”

“Thank heaven! You have at last forgiven me,” said Sowers. “I will try to be a better man and lead a better life,” said Sowers.

They then returned to the parlor. Supper was soon announced and they went promptly to the dining room. William and Ella came in just as the other guests were taking their seats at the supper table. They had supped with Mr. and Mrs. Beverly at the Taylor Hotel. So they went at once to the parlor.

“Well, Ella, we have had a nice time today,” asserted William after they were comfortably seated in the parlor. “I have really enjoyed myself with my new-found parents.”

“Well, your parents are certainly nice people,” said Ella. “And your sister is a model for other girls to ‘go’ by.”

“I was surprised to see Hugh Walters,” said William. “Hugh is smitten at last. If Sister does fall in love with him and he with her, they have my consent to get married. Albert casts ‘sheep’s eyes’ at Annie Walters too.”

“That will be a match,” asserted Ella. “I am thinking the ministers of Boston will have a great many Virginians to marry. We will get married in Boston.”

“Yes, we will,” said William. “Well, isn’t Kent a pleasant man? He is always ready to talk. I am very favorably impressed with him. He shall be rewarded for his service, for he has found my parents for me. I will not forget him when I get to Boston. Father has promised to buy a house and lot in Boston and make him a present of them. Also, he shall be rewarded with money. He is coming now.”

Kent at that moment entered the room.

“You have got here, I see,” said he as he took a seat. “Well, William, I spent a pleasant day today with your parents.”

“I don’t think I ever spent a day more pleasantly than I did this one,” asserted William. “Mr. Kent, when do you expect to go home?”

“Tomorrow morning I must make a start as I settled this business,” said Kent. “No, I can’t go tomorrow. I must stay until Wilse Reed’s body is found, for I must be sure Wilse, alias Fred, is dead.”

“Yes, that will detain you for a few days,” said Ella. “The water has been so very high I wouldn’t be surprised if the two bodies floated down to the mouth of the Opequon Creek. However, we will hear something of it when the weekly paper is issued.”

“William, your sister is captured,” said Kent after a slight pause. “Hugh Walters has let Cupid’s arrow pierce his heart at last. But I don’t blame him, for your sister is so pretty; any person would love her. She is also a kind person to the poor. I have known them for a long while, and I don’t believe there is a den in Boston that she has not been in. She knows every thief in Boston and she is so kind to them that she causes them to turn from their evil ways and try to make an honest living.”

“I am glad to hear you speak so favorably of her,” said William. “I thought she was a kind-hearted, Puritan-like lady. She is a sister that any man is proud to have. Any man would be glad to call her his sister, for she is so pleasant, so kind and loving, that she makes anyone happy.”

“I know one man that would not be proud of her as a sister,” said Kent, “not if affairs were the same as they are at present.”

“You mean Hugh Walters, do you?” inquired William. “Oh yes, you are right. Hugh would rather her be a stranger than to be his sister.”

The other guests and also the host came in, and then followed a lively conversation. The evening soon slipped by. Bedtime came and all sank to rest in their several rooms. The next day was a clear day. The water had fell [sic] to its right place. Not a single timber of the mill remained. Mr. Hardin came out to see how his farm looked after the rain.

“I won’t have the trouble of moving the mill,” said he jokingly, as he viewed the site where the mill once stood. “And there were two lives lost by the falling of the mill, Eh?”

“Yes, they would go in there,” said Sowers. “If a person will go headlong to their own destruction, let them go.”

Sowers spoke bravely, but he thought at the time of his failure to take his own life. Herbert had never mentioned the fact to anyone that he rescued Sowers from the gallows. For it was nothing less than the gallows. Sowers asked him—yes, begged him—to keep it secret.

Herbert had promised to do so.

Mr. and Mrs. Armstead went home that day. So did Herbert and Ella. They were preparing for their journey eastward. They wanted to start the first of October, if possible. Kent waited patiently until the paper was issued. He was eager to see his family. All he was waiting for was to hear of Wilse Reed’s body being found. The report had been widely circulated that Wilse and Kate had been drowned when the Brookland mill washed away. No explanation had been given as to the reason of their being in the mill when the water was so high. Friday morning came. That was the day the paper was issued.

Kent rode up to Winchester and bought a copy of the Times. He searched eagerly for the notice concerning Fred Lambert.

He finally found the paragraph he was looking for. He read eagerly as follows:

From the Jefferson Journal, we clip the following: “On Sunday, 24th inst. a child of Mr. Brown, an esteemed citizen, was fishing at the mouth of the Opequon Creek, when he was frightened into fits by seeing the body of a man suddenly come up out of the water. His scream was heard and someone soon went to his assistance. When the little fellow got ‘all right again,’ he pointed to the man who was still floating around in an eddy of the creek. Presently a woman ‘popped’ up out of the water. The bodies were hooked out and they had the appearance of being in the water for some time. An old man here, Pete Griffin by the name, identified the body of the man as that of one Wilson Reed of Brookland mills. The other body is unknown. They will be as well taken care of as possible. The people intend putting them on ice for a few days. Anyone having an interest will please call as soon as possible.