The Golden House Part 13

The tears rolled slowly down the old man's cheeks as he listened. "It is good to hear, Enricho," he murmured, addressing his companion; "but I am too late, as you see."

"Can't we keep him here, and take care of him? He is our Nono's father, of course, papa," said Alma, much moved.

Alma had truly received into the inner chamber of her heart the heavenly Guest, and she was eager to share all with his humbler brethren.

"Where shall we put him?" said the colonel thoughtfully.

"In the little room in the wing, where the painters slept last summer,"

answered Alma promptly. "I will see that it is all nice for him. He looks so sick and tired. I am sure Marie will do her best for him, she was so fond of Nono. And, dear papa, we can use my money for him. I have ever so much still left in my little cottage. Let me, please, papa!"

The colonel gazed lovingly at Alma as he said,--

"Now you look so like your dear mother. It is just what she would have said. Certainly we will keep him here."

Enricho was only too glad to leave Pietro in the pleasant quarters that were prepared for him before evening. When the weary old man lay down in his comfortable bed, with everything neat and clean about him, he felt as if he were in some strange, blissful dream. He was not to see his boy; but how lovingly they had spoken of him!

Karin cried like a child when she heard that Nono's poor father had appeared; the very man she had dreaded to think of, who might come at any time to carry off the boy who was as dear to her as her own children. How she wished she could speak the poor father's language, and tell him what Nono had been to her! Later, she did try to make him understand it all, not only by broken Swedish words and signs, but with Frans sometimes as a translator. Mr. Frans had been studying Italian with his father, and was glad himself to talk about Nono.

Pietro, broken down by hardship and illness, and thin and worn, seemed older than he really was. Pelle and Pietro were soon good friends. It was a precious time for Frans when he translated the conversation between these two veterans from life's battles--the one defeated, wounded, near his death; the other humble, yet triumphant, victorious, and soon to be summoned to the court of his King for a more than abundant reward.

"I am not fit to be the father of a boy like Nono," said Pietro one day--"not fit to be his father."

Pietro's old superst.i.tious confidence in the religion of his country had pa.s.sed into a dull unbelief in all that was sacred. He had a disease which Pelle found he could not reach.

Then the colonel came and sat day by day in Pietro's room, and talked to the poor Italian out of the fulness of his heart as he had never talked to a human being before. There, in that small room, the colonel won a victory greater than the triumphs of war. There he won a soul for the heavenly King! The colonel, by nature so self-controlled, so reticent, was moved to warmth and tender tears as Pietro grasped his hand and thanked him for opening the way for his soul to the real knowledge of G.o.d and holiness and peace.

It was the first human being that the colonel had led in the way of life, and Pietro was a precious treasure to him.

Alma insisted upon being responsible for every expense that was incurred for Pietro. She could do nothing more for him but remember him in her prayers. The fair, slight girl, with the kindly look in her dear blue eyes, seemed to him a thing quite apart from his life, something he could not understand--that could not understand him.

The time would come when Alma, now walking tremblingly herself in the way of life, would be strong to help the weak and struggling, and lead the wanderers gently home.

CHAPTER XX.

THE OPENED DOOR.

The sweet bells of Aneholm Church were cheerily ringing. The sunshine shed a quiet gladness over the smooth meadows, and even the moist, dark evergreens of the distant woods glittered in the clear light.

Within the church, garlands of birch leaves hung here and there on the white walls and festooned the carved pulpit. Green wreaths crowned the golden angels that supported, each with one lifted hand, the sculptured altar-piece; while in the other, outstretched, they loosely held wild flowers, as if ready to strew them in the paths of the pilgrims bound heavenward. The still marble figures that had so long sat watchers beside the effigies on the great monuments of the honoured dead wore now on their brows blue circlets of corn-flowers, as if to tell for to-day of glad resurrection rather than of the dark tomb.

Tiny floral processions seemed pa.s.sing in long lines along the tops of the simple wooden seats for the congregation; for the sconces that had held the lights for many a service on a winter morning or evening were now filled with bouquets, placed there by the children who had the day before been confirmed in the quiet sanctuary. The flowers, like the children, were from the rich man's garden or from the woods and meadows--here choice roses or glowing verbenas, there b.u.t.tercups and daisies.

To-day the newly confirmed, "the children of the Lord's Supper," were to "come forward" for the first time to the holy communion.

The colonel generally walked to church with Alma and Frans, but this morning the carriage had been ordered for him. A friend was to be with him who was not strong enough to go on foot to the service. The doctor, who was carefully watching over Pietro, had said that it would not be at all dangerous for him to have his desire gratified--to take the holy communion at the sacred altar. His days were plainly numbered; it but remained to make his decline as full as possible of joy and peace.

The poor old fellow was pleased to wear his fresh homely suit and the broad-brimmed hat that reminded him so pleasantly of home. The congregation were already a.s.sembled when the two entered--Pietro leaning heavily on the arm of the colonel, who gently led him to the corner of the pew that had been comfortably prepared for him.

The preliminary service over, the children recently confirmed went forward first to the communion, circling the chancel in solemn stillness, while the prayers of the congregation went up for the young disciples. Then came the elders to the holy table. Old Pelle and Pietro knelt side by side, the latter staying himself by one hand on the colonel's shoulder, as if he had been a brother. The Italian knew nothing of the pride and stiffness of the early days of his friend.

The colonel was but to him the loving guide who had led him to the heavenly kingdom. Their paths were soon to separate. Pietro was to be summoned upward; the colonel was to linger and labour, and perhaps suffer before he entered into rest.

The future lay uncertain before the dwellers at Ekero and the golden house, but they had nought to fear. They had opened the guest-chamber of their hearts to the heavenly Visitant, and they would henceforward be blessed by his continual presence.

And Nono, who had so early admitted the sacred Friend? He did not see his father on earth, but he had the glad hope of meeting him in the true home above. Nono was to "make beautiful things," and had the beautiful life of all who follow Him who is the spring and source of beauty and purity and love.

"Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me."

"If a man love me, he will keep my words: and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him."

"Be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in."

THE END.

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