The Monctons Volume Ii Part 3

"'False as the world. As you, as every one is to the unfortunate,' she cried, with indignation in her eyes and scorn upon her lip, 'but here is Dinah--Dinah, whom you consider unfeeling and cruel. She knows me, and loves me better than you do. She does not join with a parcel of conventional hypocrites to condemn me.'

"As she ceased speaking, Dinah entered with a basket on her arm. After the first surprise at my unexpected and unwelcome appearance was over, she accosted me with more amenity of look and manner than I ever before knew her to a.s.sume.

"'How are you, Philip? you look ill. Suppose you have got into some trouble, or we should not be honoured by a visit?'

"'You are right, in part, grandmother. I have been sick for some days, and have come home for change of air and good nursing.'

"I put a handful of gold in her lap. 'You see I am willing and able to pay for the trouble I give. When this is gone, you can have more.'

"'Money is always welcome--more welcome often than those that bring it. All things considered, however, I am glad to see you. When relatives are too long separated, they become strangers to each other.

Alice and I had concluded that you only regarded us as such. The sight of you will renew the old tie of kindred, and make you one of us again. Quick, Alice, get your brother some supper; he must be hungry after his long journey.'

"'I am in no need; Alice, do not trouble yourself; I feel too ill to eat; I will go to bed if you please. All I want at present is _rest_.'

"Dinah, who was pa.s.sing the gold from one hand to the other, and gazing upon it with infinite satisfaction, suddenly looked up and repeated the last word after me, with peculiar emphasis.

"'_Rest!_ Who rests in this world? Even sleep is not rest; the body sleeps, but the soul toils on, on, on, for ever. There is no such thing as rest. If I thought so, I would put an end to my existence to-morrow--I would; and meet death as a liberator from the vexatious turmoils of life.'

"There was something in these words which filled my mind with an indescribable horror--a perfect dread of endless duration. I had always looked upon the grave as a place of rest--a haven of peace from the cares of life. That old raven, with her dismal croaking, had banished the pleasing illusion, and made me nervously sensitive to the terrors of a living, conscious eternity. Whilst undressing to go to bed, I was seized with violent shivering fits, and before morning was delirious, and in a high fever.

"I had never suffered from severe illness before; I had often been afflicted in mind, but not in body. I now had to endure the horrors of both combined. For the first fortnight I was too ill to think. I was in the condition of the unfortunate patriarch, who in the morning exclaimed, 'Would G.o.d it were night!' and when night came, reversed the feverish hope.

"There were moments, however, during the burning hours of these sleepless nights, when the crimes of the past, and the uncertainty of the future, rushed before me in terrible distinctness; when I tried to pray and could not, and sought comfort from the Word of G.o.d, and found every line a condemnation. Oh, those dreadful days and nights, when I lay a hopeless, self-condemned expectant of misery, shuddering on the awful brink of eternity, shrieking to the Almighty Father for peace, and finding none; seeking for rest with strong cries and tears, and being repaid with ten-fold agony. May I never again suffer in flesh and spirit what I then endured!

"The poor lost girl who watched my bed, beheld the fierce tossings of pain, the agonies of remorse, the icy apathy. She could neither direct nor a.s.sist my mind in its struggles to obtain one faint glimmer of light through the dense gloom caused by infidelity and sin.

"Death--natural death--the mere extinction of animal life, I did not dread. Had the conflict ended with annihilation, I might have welcomed it with joy. But death unaccompanied by total extinction was horrible.

To be deprived of moral life--to find the soul for ever separated from G.o.d, all its high and n.o.ble faculties destroyed, while all that was infamous and debasing remained to form a h.e.l.l of memory, an eternity of despair, was a conviction so dreadful, so appalling to my mind, that my reason for a time bowed before it, and for some days I was conscious of nothing else.

"This fiery trial yielded at last. I became more tractable, and could think more calmly upon the awful subject ever uppermost in my mind. I felt a strong desire to pray, to acknowledge my guilt to Almighty G.o.d, and sue for pardon, and restoration to peace and happiness. I could not express my repentance in words, I could only sigh and weep, but He who looks upon the naked human heart, knew that my contrition was sincere, and accepted the unformed pet.i.tion.

"As the hart panteth for the water brooks, so did my thirsty soul pant for the refreshing waters of life. In feeble tones I implored Alice to read to me from the New Testament. My eyes were so much affected by the fever, that I could scarcely distinguish the objects round me.

"The request was distasteful, and she evaded it for many days--at last, replied testily.

"'There is not such a book in the house--never was; and you know that quite well.'

"'You can borrow one from the schoolmaster in the village.'

"'I will do no such thing. A pretty story truly, to go the rounds of Moncton. That the Morningtons were such G.o.dless people they had no Bible in the house, and had to borrow one. They say that Dinah is a witch, and that would confirm it.'

"'Send the boy that cuts sticks in the wood. Let him ask it as if for his mother. I know Mr. Ludd will lend it for a good purpose; and tell the boy I will give him half a sovereign for his pains.'

"'Nonsense! Why that would buy the book.'

"'Oh, do buy it, Alice, my good angel; for the love of G.o.d! send and buy it. You will find my purse in my coat-pocket. It will be the best money that was ever laid out by me.'

"'You had better be still and go to sleep, Philip; you are too ill to bear the fatigue of reading yet.'

"This was dreadfully tantalizing, but I was forced to submit. The next morning she brought me a cup of tea. I looked wistfully in her face.

"'Dear Alice, you could give me something that would do me more good than this.'

"'Some broth, perhaps; sick people always fancy everything that is not at hand.'

"'That book.'

"'Are you thinking about that still?'

"'I long for the bread of life.'

"'Do you want to turn Methodist?'

"'I wish to become a Christian.'

"'Are you not one already?'

"'Oh, no, no, Alice! All my life long I have denied the word of G.o.d and the power of salvation; and now, I would give the whole world, if I possessed it, to obtain the true riches. Do, dear sister, grant my earnest request, and may the G.o.d of all mercy bring you to a knowledge of the truth.'

"'I hate cant,' said Alice, discontentedly, 'but I will see what I can do for you.'

"She took some money from my purse and left the room.

"Hours pa.s.sed away. I listened for her returning footsteps until I fell asleep. It was night when I again unclosed my eyes. Alice was sitting by the little table reading. Oh, blessed sight. The Bible lay open before her.

"'I dreamt it,' I cried joyfully. 'I dreamt that you got it, and G.o.d has brought it to pa.s.s. Oh, dear Alice you have made me so happy.'

"'What shall I read?

"I was puzzled; so much had I become a stranger to the sacred volume, that though it had formed a portion of my school and college studies, the little interest then felt in its contents, had made me almost a stranger to them.

"'Read the Gospel of St. John.'

"'A chapter you mean.'

"'As much as you can. Until you are tired.'

"She began at the opening chapter of that sublime gospel, in which we have so much of the mind of Jesus, though less of his wondrous parables and miracles; but matter which is higher, more mysterious, spiritual and satisfying to the soul. Nor could I suffer her to lay aside the book until it was concluded.

"How eagerly I drank in every word, and long after every eye was closed in sleep I continued in meditation and prayer. A thousand times I repeated to myself, 'And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free,' What a glorious emanc.i.p.ation from the chains of sin and death! Oh, how I longed for a knowledge of that truth, and the answer came:--'O Lord thy word is truth;' and the problem in my soul was satisfied, and with a solemn thanksgiving I devoted myself to the service of G.o.d. A calm and holy peace came down upon my soul, and that night I enjoyed the first refreshing sleep I had known for many weeks.

"In the morning I was much better, but still too weak to leave my bed.

"I spent most of the day in reading the Bible. Alice had relaxed much of her attention and I only saw her during the brief periods when she administered medicine, or brought me broth or gruel.

"I felt hurt at her coldness; but it was something more than mere coldness. Her manner had become sullen and disagreeable. She answered me abruptly and in monosyllables, and appeared rather sorry than glad, that I was in a fair way of recovering.

"I often heard her and Dinah hold confused whispering conversations, in the outer room into which mine opened, the cottage being entirely on the ground floor, and one evening I thought I recognized the deep tones of a man's voice. I tried to catch a part of their discourse, but the sounds were too low and guarded to make anything out. A short time after I heard the sound of horses' hoofs upon the gravel walk which led past the cottage into the park. I sat up in the bed which was opposite the window, which commanded a view of the road, and perceived, to my dismay, that the stranger was no other than Robert Moncton, who was riding towards the village.