Christian fiction; Future life -- Fiction; Spiritualism -- Fiction
He did not call me nor show the slightest fear lest he should fail to
overtake me. Ha had already learned that love always overtakes the
beloved in that blessed land.
"You forgot your little boy," he said reproachfully, and put his hand
quietly within mine and walked on beside me, and forgot that he had
been forgotten immediately, and looked upward at me radiantly.
Remembering the command to await what should occur, and do as my heart
prompted, I accepted this accident as part of a purpose wiser than my
own, and kissed the little fellow, and we travelled on together.
As we came into the hill country, our way grow wilder and more
desolate. The last of the stray travellers whom we chanced to meet was
now well behind us. In the wide spaces we were quite alone. Behind
us, dim and distant, shimmering like an opal in a haze of fair
half-tints, the city shone. On either side of us, the forest trees
began to tread solemnly, like a vast procession which no man could
number, keeping step to some inaudible march. Before us, the great
crest of the mountains towered dark as death against the upper sky. As
we drew near, the loneliness of these hills was to me as something of
which I had never conceived before. Earth did not hold their likeness,
and my heart had never held their meaning. I could almost have dreaded
them, as we came nearer to them; but the deviation of the paths had
long since ceased. In the desolate country which we were now crossing
choice was removed from conduct. There was but one course for me to
take; I took it unhesitatingly and without fear, which belongs wholly
to the lower life.
As we advanced, the great mountain barrier rose high and higher before
us, till it seemed to shut out the very sky from our sight, and to
crush us apart from all the world--nay, from either world or any, I
could have thought, so desolate and so awful was the spot. But when we
had entered the shadow formed by the mighty range, and had accustomed
our eyes to it for a time, I perceived, not far ahead of me, but in
fact quite near and sudden to the view, a long, dark, sharp defile cut
far into the heart of the hills. The place had an unpleasant look, and
I stopped before it to regard it. It was so grim of aspect and so
assured of outline, like a trap for travellers which had hung there
from all eternity, that I liked it not, and would not that the child
should enter till I had first inspected it. Therefore, I bade him sit
and rest upon a bed of crimson mosses which grew at the feet of a great
rock, and to remain until he saw me turn to him again; and with many
cautions and the most minute directions for his obedience and his
comfort, I left him, and advanced alone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account