Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the peopleEverett-Green, Evelyn
General
Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the people
Everett-Green, Evelyn
West Country (England) -- Fiction
“It may not be to-night, but it must be soon. The doctor says you
strained your heart so terrible hard that night, and there was
something amiss with you before. I don’t rightly understand his
words, but you’ve never been the same since that fever, and when you
were knocked down by the horses they did you a mischief you’ve never
got over. That night on the wreck was the last straw, as folks say.
There’s something broke and hurt past mending. You won’t have no pain,
but things can’t go on long. You’ll not be long before you see your
Saviour, my lad; for I’m very sure we go to be with Him, even though we
may not share His glory till the blessed day of the Resurrection.”
A strange awe fell upon Saul. His eyes looked straight at Abner with an
expression the latter could hardly fathom. Was it fear? Was it joy? Was
it triumph? He did not know, but Saul’s next words gave him the clue.
“It is goodness past belief--I can’t understand it!”
“What, my boy?”
“Why, that the Lord should take me to Himself, when He might have left
me to a life of misery and degradation in a far-off land with criminals
and evil-doers, or sent me to the scaffold, as I was nearly sent
before. After such a life as I’ve led, to take me away to His beautiful
land of rest. It’s too much--it’s too much! I don’t know how to thank
Him aright. Grandfather, get down upon your knees again and tell
Him--though He knows it, to be sure--that for love of Him I’m willing
to live that life of misery, or die the shameful death I’ve deserved,
and led others to, I fear. Let it be only as He wills, but to be taken
away from it all to be with Him seems more blessedness and goodness
than I can rightly understand.”
Tears were running down Abner’s face. His voice was broken by sobs.
“Oh, my boy! my boy! if that’s how you feel, I’ve no fears for you.
That’s the feeling we should all strive after. Whether we live, we
live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord: so
that, living or dying, we are the Lord’s. If it’s so with thee, my
boy, there’s nought else to wish for thee. The peace that passes all
understanding will be with thee to the end. Oh, bless the Lord! thank
the Lord! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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