The good pastor entirely agreed in opinion with Dorcas: the purchase was made, and, as the ground was now in his own hands, he turned it to much greater advantage. He was happy with his Amarillis, and two sweet children blessed their union. As he returned from his labour in the evening, his wife constantly welcomed his return, and met him on the way with her children, who fondled round him with inexpressible cheerfulness and delight.
The worthy minister, some years after this happy union, paid the debt of nature, and was sincerely wept for by both Dorcas and Amarillis.--The death of this worthy pastor brought them to reflect on the uncertainty of human life. "My dear partner," said Dorcas, "the time will come when we must be separated, and when the farm will fall to our children. You know it is not ours, nor perhaps ever properly will be. Should the owner appear, he will have nothing to show for it, and we shall go to the grave without having secured his property."
Dorcas, therefore, drew up a short history of the whole affair in writing, got the principal inhabitants to sign it, and then put it into the hands of the succeeding minister. Having thus taken all the precautions they could to secure the property to the right owner, should he ever appear, they were much more easy and contented than before.
Upwards of ten years had elapsed since they had been in possession of the farm; when Dorcas coming home from the fields one day to dinner, saw a phaeton in the road, which he had hardly cast his eyes on, till he saw it overset. He hastened to the spot to give them his assistance, and offered them the use of his team to convey their baggage. In the mean time, he begged them to step to his house, and take such refreshment as it afforded, though they had fortunately received no hurt.
"This place," said one of the gentlemen, "is always mischievous to me, and I suppose I must never expect to pass it without some accident.--About twelve years since, I somewhere hereabouts lost my bag, as I was returning from the fair, with five hundred guineas in it."
"Five hundred guineas, sir!" said Dorcas, who was all attention. "Did you make no enquiry after so great a loss?"--"I had it not in my power," replied the stranger, "as I was then going to the Indies, and was on my road to Portsmouth, which place I reached before I missed my bag. The ship was getting under way when I arrived there, and would have gone without me had I been an hour later. Considering it was money I had lost, it appeared to me a doubtful matter whether I should hear any thing of it after making the strictest enquiry; and had I been fortunate enough to succeed, even in that case, by losing my passage, I should have sustained a much greater loss than that of my bag and its contents."