The Angel of the Gila Part 40

Kenneth Hastings was the last to speak with him. He asked for a personal interview. Then arm in arm, they strolled up the mountain road.

What was said during that interview no one ever knew. But when the two returned to Clayton Ranch, David Bright walked with his hand resting on the young man's shoulder. Esther heard her grandfather say to him:

"I honor thee for it, my son. I believe under the same circ.u.mstances, I should feel as thou dost. It is a serious question."

Kenneth said something in reply that did not reach Esther's ears. She heard her grandfather speaking again:

"Yes, she is an unusual woman, as thou sayest. She has always been a delightful character, and Christlike in her purity. She is compa.s.sionate and loving because she has always walked in the Master's steps."

The two men entered the house, and John Clayton advanced to greet them.

"That was a great meeting," he said.

"Yes," David Bright replied, "G.o.d has touched the hearts of the people."

He sat down by his granddaughter, put his arm about her, and drew her to him.

"The field is white unto the harvest, Beloved," he said, looking into her upturned face.

"I hadn't thought of the harvest yet, Grandfather," she said simply.

"We have been getting the soil ready to sow good seed at every opportunity. We are on the verge of the growing time."

"Well, well, as you will, little philosopher," he said, releasing her.

It was a lovely picture to see the two side by side. The white head of the one suggested a life work near completion; while the golden brown of the other, suggested life's work at its beginning. Happy would it be if G.o.dly and beautiful age could give up its unfinished tasks to those who are content to prepare the soil, and sow good seed, intent on the growing time!

The social hours in the Clayton home that day were ones to be long remembered. David Bright was a man enriched from many sources. He gave himself to his companions in intercourse as rare as it was beautiful.

Conversation had never become to him a lost art; it was the flowering out of the life within.

And Kenneth Hastings listened. If _he_ had only had such a father! He was beginning to see it all now,--life's great possibility.

At last he was drawn into the conversation.

"I hardly know," he responded to a question from David Bright. How many things he now realized he "hardly knew!" How vague a notion he had, anyhow, of many questions affecting the destiny of the human race! He thought aloud:

"You see Mr. Bright, I was reared in a worldly home, and I was brought up in the Church of England. My religion is simply a beautiful ritual.

But, further than that, I know nothing about it. I never felt any interest in religion until--" here his face flushed "--until your granddaughter came. She found me a heathen--" He hesitated, and glancing toward Esther, caught her glance. How lovely she was! As he hesitated, David Bright finished his sentence, smiling genially as he did so.

"And made you a Christian, I hope."

"I fear not. I am plagued with doubts."

"You will conquer the doubts," responded David Bright, "and be stronger for the struggle. Triumphant faith is worth battling for."

"Well," said Kenneth, "I feel that I am adrift on a great sea. If anyone pilots me to a safe harbor, it will be your granddaughter."

"No," she said, looking into his face with a sudden radiance in her own, "but the Man of Galilee."

And so the talk drifted, talk where each one could be himself and speak out of his innermost heart, and not be misunderstood. So blessed is friends.h.i.+p of the higher sort.

The day pa.s.sed and the morrow dawned. Then David Bright journeyed eastward again, to minister to the world's unfortunate ones.

He left behind him in Gila an influence that men speak of to this day.

But to no one, probably, did his coming mean more than to John Harding. John's transformation was now complete. He became the self-appointed evangelist to numbers of unfortunate and tempted men.

He had risen in the scale of life, and had become a Man!

CHAPTER XV

SOME SOCIAL EXPERIENCES

One evening about the middle of February, Kenneth Hastings called at the Clayton home. After a few moments of general conversation, he turned to Mrs. Clayton and begged to be excused from his engagement to accompany them to Box Canyon.

"Oh, Mr. Kenneth," protested Edith.

"I am sorry, Edith," he said, turning to her, "but I leave to-morrow for England."

"For England!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Esther in astonishment; for she knew that a visit to England had been remote from his thoughts the last time she had talked with him.

"Nothing wrong at home, I hope, Kenneth?" said John Clayton, kindly.

"My uncle cabled me that my parents were killed in an accident. It is imperative that I go at once."

He paused. John Clayton reached over and laid a hand on his arm. Mrs.

Clayton spoke a few words of sympathy; but Esther Bright sat silent.

How she had urged him to make his parents a visit! How he had rebuffed her, saying they cared nothing for him! She remembered his saying that he had always been starved for a mother's love. Too late now to give or to receive.

She felt Kenneth looking at her, expecting her to say some word. She seemed suddenly dumb. At last she heard him speak her name. He hesitated, then continued:

"I wish I had gone when you suggested it, Miss Bright."

He bowed his head upon his hand.

"I wish you _had_ gone," she said, simply. "It might have been a comfort to you."

After awhile he spoke cheerfully of his return, and of what they would do.

"Don't let Miss Bright work too hard," he said, smiling gravely. "She does enough work for five men."

"I shall miss your help," was all she said. But she felt a sudden longing to comfort him. Into her face flashed a look of sympathy. He knew it was for him.

"It almost makes me homesick, Kenneth, to hear you talk of going home," said Mrs. Clayton. "England always will seem home to me," she added, turning to Esther.

"It is a beautiful country to call home," responded the New England girl. "I love England."

They talked till late, Kenneth receiving message after message from them to kindred and friends across the sea.