Left to Ourselves Part 2

"I don't see why," said Hugh, looking puzzled.

"Do you not think it is hard to feel that we are utterly black and sinful, no good in us at all?"

"Oh, mother!"

"But turn over the page, and the Blood shuts out all remembrance of the sin. The Lamb of G.o.d, who taketh away the sin of the world."

"How beautiful!" said Agnes.

Their mother turned to the next page, and went on.

"Then, when the Blood has cleansed us, what are we?"

"Whiter than snow," said Minnie reverently.

"That is right, little Minnie; and I think the white reminds us of two or three things. Can you suggest them, children?"

"How pure we ought to be?" asked Agnes.

"Yes, and how pure He is," answered her mother.

"'These are they that have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb,'" said Alice. "That was our text last Sunday."

"So it was, and the end of it introduces us to our final page, and that lasts for ever."

"Gold," said Minnie.

"Glory," said Hugh.

"Everlasting glory, all joy and light for evermore. All purchased for us by that one page which cost Him His life's blood. Now, dear children, repeat over to me the lessons of this little book, that we may all remember them together--

Black--Red--White--Gold.

The children repeated the words as their mother turned the pages, and then she added:

Sin--Blood--Righteousness--Glory.

Mrs. Headley then pa.s.sed a book to each of them, saying in a low tone, with an earnestness which impressed her young hearers, "May all of you fly from the first, take refuge in the second, be covered by the third, and share the last."

When their mother had left them Minnie stood looking long and lovingly at her little treasure, as if she would read its wordless leaves if she could.

"I think this book has a whole story on each page," said Agnes thoughtfully.

"I wish you could tell us one," answered Minnie, looking up wistfully.

"Perhaps I will next Sunday," replied Agnes.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER III.

_THE DARK CAVERN: AN ALLEGORY._

"You promised to tell us a story of the 'Wordless pages,' Agnes," said Minnie on Sunday afternoon, when the children had left their parents to a few moments' quiet, and were gathered in the drawing-room to spend the hour in which Agnes generally read to them.

"I have not forgotten," answered Agnes, "but, as mother said, the first page is very hard to read, and the second page----"

"Well?" said John.

"You will see," answered Agnes. "Come on my lap, Minnie; you will not be afraid if I describe something very dreadful?"

"I don't _think_ so," said Minnie wondering; "but is it dreadful, Agnes?"

"Don't you think that first page looks dreadful? So black and hopeless!"

"Oh, yes, so it does."

"Then listen:

Black--Sin.

I seemed to be dreaming, and in my dream I beheld a rocky country stretched out before me.

On all sides were rugged stones, underneath which grew ferns and mosses, while short brushwood, growing luxuriantly, gave the place a wild, unfrequented appearance.

By-and-by I heard the sound of voices approaching, and two boys came in view, who seemed to be travelling through this mountainous country.

They were jumping lightly from stone to stone, or pushing their way through the bushes in the more open parts, talking gaily as they came towards me."

"I have heard that there are some wonderful caverns somewhere about here, and I have determined to try and find them out," said one.

"The Guide-book says they are most perilous," answered the other, opening his knapsack and looking in a book he carried there.

"Oh, those old Guide-books always call everything dangerous," answered the other contemptuously, "and I am not going to be turned from my purpose by any such nonsense. Look here!"

As he spoke he too opened his knapsack, and proceeded to pull out two candles triumphantly.

"With these we shall do perfectly well," he added, laughing, "and shall prove the Guide-book to have been written for people with less sense."

"I should like to see the caverns," said the younger boy hesitatingly, "but----"

"No 'buts' for me," sneered the other, jumping up; "I am off to explore the mysteries. It is because you are afraid, I believe."

I thought that the younger boy seemed not to like being called afraid, for he got up reluctantly and followed his companion somewhat slowly; not at all as he had bounded over the rocks a few minutes before.