But the helpless poor at the other end of the wherry! The mother rocking
on her bosom the little one who smiled at the storm; the woman once
so frivolous and gay, and now tormented with bitter remorse; the old
soldier covered with scars, a mutilated life the sole reward of his
unflagging loyalty and faithfulness. This veteran could scarcely count
on the morsel of bread soaked in tears to keep the life in him, yet he
was always ready to laugh, and went his way merrily, happy when he could
drown his glory in the depths of a pot of beer, or could tell tales
of the wars to the children who admired him, leaving his future with a
light heart in the hands of God. Lastly, there were the two peasants,
used to hardships and toil, labor incarnate, the labor by which the
world lives. These simple folk were indifferent to thought and its
treasures, ready to sink them all in a belief; and their faith was but
so much the more vigorous because they had never disputed about it nor
analyzed it. Such a nature is a virgin soil, conscience has not been
tampered with, feeling is deep and strong; repentance, trouble, love,
and work have developed, purified, concentrated, and increased their
force of will a hundred times, the will--the one thing in man that
resembles what learned doctors call the Soul.
The boat, guided by the well-nigh miraculous skill of the steersman,
came almost within sight of Ostend, when, not fifty paces from the
shore, she was suddenly struck by a heavy sea and capsized. The stranger
with the light about his head spoke to this little world of drowning
creatures:
"Those who have faith shall be saved; let them follow me!"
He stood upright, and walked with a firm step upon the waves. The young
mother at once took her child in her arms, and followed at his side
across the sea. The soldier too sprang up, saying in his homely fashion,
"Ah! _nom d'un pipe_! I would follow _you_ to the devil;" and without
seeming astonished by it, he walked on the water. The worn-out sinner,
believing in the omnipotence of God, also followed the stranger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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