The wharves of the firm were heaped with cargo; three square-riggers were tied there; windlasses turned; seamen chanted as they threw their weight against the bars and swung the merchandise up from the holds. Anthony looked from the ships, with their abundance and ordered labor, to the warehouse and its repletion and thought of that day one half-year before--the day the _Rufus Stevens_, under her makeshift mast and ill-fitting sail, rounded the bend in the river, amazing all who beheld her. And that wonderful cargo! That shipful of riches! What Charles had dreamed of it came true; for there was the house of Rufus Stevens' Sons once more set squarely upon its foundations; there it stood, fixed, settled, strong, with no man to speak a word against it. For that part of its past, foul with villainy, was canceled. And its future was bright and long. And there was peace, and there was honor, and there was prosperity. * * * * * Anthony went to see Charles at his house on Ninth Street on a snowy Sunday evening. And he found him wrapped comfortably in a rug before the library fire, reading a play-book. Charles smiled and shook the young man's hand. "It is pleasant to sit here," he said, "and read and look at the fire and think how safe things are in your hands." "How are you?" Anthony asked. "I am better. Oh, I am a deal better. You need not be afraid," and he smiled and patted the young, strong arm. "I am back from the darkness for good and all. But here I'll sit, Anthony, in the company of my books, while the house of Stevens moves under your hand. Here I'll sit quietly and with nothing to disturb me. I'll lead a rich life in this room, by this fire; a rich, full life, with companions like this to amuse me," and he riffled the leaves of the play-book. "Your books," said Anthony, gratefully and wistfully, "thank God for them!" Charles smiled, and again he patted the young man's arm. "Your grandfather never concerned himself with books; and you are a deal like him. But they would store your mind and make it rich," he said. "You would do well to encourage them. Those rakehells of the Restoration, now, would amuse you, if your taste runs to their kind. You'll find them there on the second shelf, next to the fireplace. Or, if you'd rather take a step back, the Elizabethans are just below, and they are a crew that'll shake your soul or your ribs, just as you'd have them. And those Italian tale-tellers were shrewd workmen--there, in the pigskin, right under your hand. But, if you think you'd care for romance nearer to this present day, there is Defoe's narrative of the shipwrecked sailor, and also Fielding's amusing chronicle of life as he's seen it in his own England." There was an array of pudgy little books with stout leather backs upon a shelf quite low in the case. Anthony stooped and took one out and opened it. The eyes of Charles sparkled.