The Alchemists Secret | Page 5

heart.
"Coming, Mother, coming," he called happily, and the smile upon

Martha's face was reflected on his own.
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear; the storm had passed in
the night. Something else had passed, too--the soul of an aged farmer.
It was not until the next day they found him, still sitting in the lounging
chair by the stove in which only a small heap of charred ashes remained.
They looked upon that serenely smiling face, then from one to another,
and sadly shook their heads. One of their number stepped forward and
with trembling fingers placed in the stiff, cold hand of old Tony, the
letter for which he had watched through long and weary years, the letter
that had come too late.
Too late? Nay, not so. Those standing by could not see, as Tony saw,
the woman who lay dying in the great hospital down in the city. They
could not see, as Tony saw, the last rites of the Church administered,
the Sisters of Charity bending near praying, praying for that soul about
to depart upon its last long journey. They could not hear, as Tony heard,
the pale lips speaking their final words:
"You wrote the letter, Sister?"
"I wrote the letter, dear. It must have reached them by now."
"You told them I was dying? You asked them to forgive?"
"I told them all and I'm sure they have forgiven already."
"Dear father and mother! God bless them both! God have mercy upon
me!"
They could not know, but Tony knew. Perhaps that explained the smile
on Tony's face, the smile they could not comprehend.

THE TRAMP.
"A pretty tough looking character, that! But I suppose you see a great
many just such specimens in this quaint little town of yours."

Father Antony's back was turned to the speaker and for several
moments he remained standing at the top of the veranda steps,
following with his eyes the slouching figure that had just passed
through the gate and was tramping slowly along the county road. Then,
with a sigh he returned to his seat and, running his fingers through his
hair, remarked half absently:
"Poor fellow, he looked almost exhausted. I tried to persuade him to
remain here a little longer and rest for a spell. What a life theirs is!
Some of them, of course, really enjoy it, but others----. Ah, me! those
poor others. And somehow that tramp who has just left us seems to me
to belong to the latter class rather than to the former. But pardon me,
Father, what was it you were just saying? I was so interested in my
tramp that I failed to catch your words."
"I merely remarked," returned the younger priest, smiling, "that you
must see a great many of these nomadic individuals in this quaint little
town of yours. I have been here but a week and that is the sixth
villainous looking rascal who has presented himself and demanded
something to eat."
"Yes, a large number of tramps pass through here in the course of a
year, for we are on the direct road between the two largest cities of the
State. Many of them are, as you say, villainous looking, but I do not
think they are half as bad as they look. In fact, in some cases, I have
found them to be pretty good fellows once you had passed the rough
exterior and reached the real man underneath."
"You must have had some very interesting experiences with these
tramps of yours; have you not, Father?" asked the younger man
curiously. "I wish you would tell me some of them."
Father Anthony shifted his chair so as to command a better view of the
road. He watched in meditative silence until the tramp had become a
mere blot upon the whiteness of the dusty road and had finally
disappeared over the brow of a distant hill. Then he spoke in tones of
reminiscence:

"It was on just such a May evening as this, clear and beautiful only
much cooler, that I sat in this very chair and watched the road as I am
doing now. But on that evening I watched anxiously, divided between
hopes and fears, for the figure that was so long in coming; I was
watching for Jim, the tramp. Jim had promised faithfully, but with
some men promises are made only to be broken. I began to fear that
Jim was one of these. Still I prayed fervently and continued to hope,
though the twilight deepened and brought no sign of my vagrant.
"My meeting with Jim had come about in this way. For some time I had
been playing a game of hide and seek with a certain backsliding
member of my congregation. The hiding was