Hills of the Shatemuc Part 128

She looked up as she put the question, with most earnest eyes, and lips that only extreme determination kept from giving way.

He looked at her, and at his book.

"By giving your trust to the Maker of the promise."

"How? --"

"The same unquestioning faith and dependence that you would give to any sure and undoubted refuge of human strength."

Elizabeth looked down and pressed her hands close together upon her breast. She knew so well how to give that! -- so little how to give the other.

"Do you understand what Christ requires of those who would follow him?"

"No," she said looking up again, -- "not clearly -- hardly at all."

"One is -- that you give up everything, even in thought, that is contrary to his authority."

He was still, and so was she, both looking at each other.

"That is what is meant by repentance. The other thing is, -- that you trust yourself for all your wants -- from the forgiveness of sin, to the supply of this moment's need, -- to the strength and love of Jesus Christ; -- and that because he has paid your price and bought you with his own blood."

"You mean," said Elizabeth slowly, "that his life was given in place of mine."

Winthrop was silent. Elizabeth stood apparently considering.

"'Everything that is contrary to his authority'" -- she added after a minute, -- "how can I know exactly all that?"

He still said nothing, but touched with his finger once or twice the book in his hand.

Elizabeth looked, and the tears came to her eyes.

"You know, --" she said, hesitating a little, -- "what physicians say of involuntary muscular resistance, that the physical frame makes sometimes?"

He answered her with an instant's light of intelligence, and then with the darkened look of sorrow. But he took his bible away with him and said no more.

Elizabeth sat down and struggled with herself and with the different pa.s.sions which had been at work in her mind, till she was wearied out; and then she slept.

She waked up in the middle of the night, to find the lamps burning bright and Clam asleep on the floor by her side; she herself was sitting yet where she had been sitting in the evening, on a low seat with her head on the sofa cus.h.i.+on. She got up and with a sort of new spring of hope and cheer, whence come she knew not, laid herself on the sofa and slept till the morning.

"You'd best be up, Miss 'Lizabeth," were Clam's first words.

"Why?" said Elizabeth springing up.

"It's time," said her handmaiden.

Elizabeth rose from her sofa and put her face and dress in such order as a few minutes could do. She had but come back from doing this, and was standing before the table, when Winthrop came in. It was much earlier than usual. Elizabeth looked, but he did not answer, the wonted question. He led her gently to the window and placed himself opposite to her.

"You must leave here, Miss Elizabeth," he said.

"Must I?" -- said Elizabeth looking up at him and trembling.

"You must --" he answered very gently.

"Why, Mr. Landholm?" Elizabeth dared to say.

"Because there is no longer any reason why you should stay here."

She trembled exceedingly, but though her very lips trembled, she did not cry. He would have placed her on a chair, but she resisted that and stood still.

"Where do you want me to go, Mr. Winthrop?" she said presently, like a child.

"I will take you wherever you say -- to some friend's house?"

She caught at his arm and her breath at once, with a kind of sob; then releasing his arm, she said,

"There isn't anywhere."

"No house in the city?"

She shook her head.

"If you will let me, I will take you to a safe and quiet place; and as soon as possible away from the city."

"When?"

"When from here? -- Now, -- as soon as you can be ready."

Elizabeth's eye wandered vaguely towards the table like a person in a maze.

"Mayn't I go up stairs again?" she said, her eye coming back to his.

"I would rather you did not."

She gave way then and sat down covering her face with her hands. And sobs as violent as her tremblings had been, held her for a little while. The moment she could, she rose up and looked up again, throwing off her tears as it were, though a sob now and then even while she was speaking interrupted her breath.

"But Mr. Winthrop -- the house, --how can I go and leave it with everything in it?"

"I will take care, if you will trust me."

"I will trust you," she said with running tears. "But you? --"

"I will take care of it and you too. -- I will try to."

"That was not what I meant --"

"I am safe," he said.

He gently seated her; and then going off to Clam at the other side of the room he bade her fetch her mistress's bonnet and shawl. He himself put them on, and taking her arm in his, they went forth of the house.