A Second Coming - LightNovelsOnl.com
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'My children!'
'Yes, Lord, Your children, each in his or her own fas.h.i.+on, but each with his or her whole heart. And because we are Your children, we are here to meet You--many of us at no slight personal inconvenience--to keep You company on the way, so that by our testimony we may begin to make it known that the Lord has come again to be the Judge of all the earth.'
'What know you of the why and wherefore of My coming?'
'Actually nothing. But I am very sure You are here for some great and good purpose, and trust, before long, to prove myself worthy of the Divine confidence. In the meantime I implore You to suffer those who are here a.s.sembled to accompany You as a guard of honour, so that You may make, though in a rough-and-ready fas.h.i.+on, a triumphant entry into that great city which is the capital of Your kingdom here on earth.'
'I will come with you.' To the lame man and to the charcoal-burner He said: 'Come also.'
He went with them. And when they came into the road nothing would content Mr. Treadman but that He should get into the fly which had brought Mrs. Powell and Mr. Gifford from the station. The lame man and the charcoal-burner rode with Him. As Mr. Treadman was preparing to mount upon the box Mrs. Powell came.
'What am I to do? I cannot walk all the way. It is too far.'
'Get in also. There is room.'
She shuddered.
'I dare not--I am afraid.'
So the fly went on without her.
As they went the bands played and the people sang hymns. There were some that shouted texts of Scripture and all manner of things. In the towns and villages folk came running out to learn what was the cause of all the hubbub.
'What is it?' they cried.
Mr. Treadman standing up would shout: 'It is the Lord! He has come to us again! Rejoice and give thanks. Come, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, for He has brought you rest.'
They pressed round the fly, so that it could scarcely move.
In a certain place a great man who was driving with his wife, when he saw the crowd and heard what they were saying, was angry, crying with a loud voice:
'What ribaldry is this? What blasphemous words are these you utter? I am ashamed to think that Englishmen should behave in such a fas.h.i.+on.'
Mr. Treadman answered:
'You foolish man! you don't know what it is you say. Yours is the shame, not ours. It is the Lord in very deed!'
The other, still more angry, caused his coachman to place his carriage close beside the fly, intending to reprimand Him whom he supposed to be the cause of the commotion. But when he saw the Stranger he was silent. His wife cried: 'It is the Lord!'
She went quickly from the carriage to the fly. When she reached it she fell on her knees, hiding her face on the seat at the Stranger's side.
'You have my son, my only son!'
He said:
'Be comforted. Your son I know and you I know. To neither of you shall any harm come.'
Her husband called to her.
'Are you mad? What is the meaning of this extraordinary behaviour? Do you wish to cause a public scandal?'
She answered:
'It is the Lord!'
But her husband commanded her:
'Come back into the carriage!'
She cried:
'Lord, let me stay with You. You have my boy; where my boy is I would be also.'
The Stranger said:
'Return unto your husband. You shall stay with Me although you return to him.'
She went back into the carriage weeping bitterly.
The news of the strange procession which was coming went on in front.
All the way were people waiting, so that the crowd grew more and more. All that came had to make room for it, waiting till the press was gone. Though the way was long, but few seemed to tire. Those that were at the first continued to the end, the bands playing almost without stopping, and the people singing hymns.
By the time they neared London it was evening. The throng had grown so great the authorities began to be concerned. Policemen lined the roads, ready if necessary to preserve order. But their services were not needed, as Mr. Treadman proclaimed:
'Constables, we are, glad to see you. Representatives of the law, He who comes is the Lord. Therefore shout Hosanna with the best of us and give Him greeting.'
Presently someone pressed a piece of paper into his hand on which was written:
'If the Lord would but stay this night in the house of the chief of sinners.
'MIRIAM POWELL.'
He took a pencil from his pocket, and wrote beneath:
'He shall stay in your house this night, thou daughter of the Lord.
'W. S. T.'
From his seat on the box Mr. Treadman leaned over towards the fly.
'Lord, I entreat You to honour with Your presence the habitation of Your very daughter, Miriam Powell, whose good works, done in Your name, s.h.i.+ne in the eyes of all men.'
He replied: