The Pilot put his hand caressingly upon the old man's shoulder as if he had been his father, and said in his clear, sweet voice, "Some day you will go to her."Upon this scene poor Gwen gazed with eyes wide open with amazement and a kind of fear.She had never seen her father weep since the awful day that she could never forget, when he had knelt in dumb agony beside the bed on which her mother lay white and still; nor would he heed her till, climbing up, she tried to make her mother waken and hear her cries.Then he had caught her up in his arms, pressing her with tears and great sobs to his heart.To-night she seemed to feel that something was wrong.She went and stood by her father, and, stroking his gray hair kindly, she said:
"What is he saying, daddy? Is he making you cry?" She looked at The Pilot defiantly.
"No, no, child," said the old man, hastily, "sit here and listen."And while the storm raved outside we three sat listening to that ancient story of love ineffable.And, as the words fell like sweet music upon our ears, the old man sat with eyes that looked far away, while the child listened with devouring eagerness.
"Is it a fairy tale, daddy?" she asked, as The Pilot paused."It isn't true, is it?" and her voice had a pleading note hard for the old man to bear.
"Yes, yes, my child," said he, brokenly."God forgive me!""Of course it's true," said The Pilot, quickly."I'll read it all to you to-morrow.It's a beautiful story!""No," she said, imperiously, "to-night.Read it now! Go on!" she said, stamping her foot, "don't you hear me?"The Pilot gazed in surprise at her, and then turning to the old man, said:
"Shall I?"
The Old Timer simply nodded and the reading went on.Those were not my best days, and the faith of my childhood was not as it had been; but, as The Pilot carried us through those matchless scenes of self-forgetting love and service the rapt wonder in the child's face as she listened, the appeal in her voice as, now to her father, and now to me, she cried: "Is THAT true, too? Is it ALLtrue?" made it impossible for me to hesitate in my answer.And Iwas glad to find it easy to give my firm adherence to the truth of all that tale of wonder.And, as more and more it grew upon The Pilot that the story he was reading, so old to him and to all he had ever met, was new to one in that listening group, his face began to glow and his eyes to blaze, and he saw and showed me things that night I had never seen before, nor have I seen them since.The great figure of the Gospels lived, moved before our eyes.We saw Him bend to touch the blind, we heard Him speak His marvellous teaching, we felt the throbbing excitement of the crowds that pressed against Him.
Suddenly The Pilot stopped, turned over the leaves and began again:
"And He led them out as far as to Bethany.And He lifted up His hands and blessed them.And it came to pass as He blessed them He was parted from them and a cloud received Him out of their sight."There was silence for some minutes, then Gwen said:
"Where did He go?"
"Up into Heaven," answered The Pilot, simply.
"That's where mother is," she said to her father, who nodded in reply.
"Does He know?" she asked.The old man looked distressed.
"Of course He does," said The Pilot, "and she sees Him all the time.""Oh, daddy!" she cried, "isn't that good?"But the old man only hid his face in his hands and groaned.
"Yes," went on The Pilot, "and He sees us, too, and hears us speak, and knows our thoughts."Again the look of wonder and fear came into her eyes, but she said no word.The experiences of the evening had made the world new to her.It could never be the same to her again.It gave me a queer feeling to see her, when we three kneeled to pray, stand helplessly looking on, not knowing what to do, then sink beside her father, and, winding her arms about his neck, cling to him as the words of prayer were spoken into the ear of Him whom no man can see, but who we believe is near to all that call upon Him.
Those were Gwen's first "prayers," and in them Gwen's part was small, for fear and wonder filled her heart; but the day was to come, and all too soon, when she should have to pour out her soul with strong crying and tears.That day came and passed, but the story of it is not to be told here.
