Christiana Read online

  "Me too," sobbed wee little James as he spanked his own hand. "Jamie were a bad, bad boy."

  "What think you, Mother?" implored Matthew. "Is there any hope for our souls?"

  "I know not, dear son," answered she with tear-choked voice. "I truly know not."

  "Ohhh," groaned the boys in unison.

  "Oh, woe the day!" sighed Matthew.

  "Later that night, Christiana had a dream," continued Mr. Sagacity, "A dream wherein she saw a broad and majestic scroll come sweeping down from heaven. It hung in space and began to unroll itself just before her eyes. Looking fearfully upon it, she saw inscribed therein, as if by a pen of iron, an exact account of all her days! Yea, even down to her very thoughts and motives.

  "Then, to her great consternation, she saw spattered upon it many stains and blotches of the darkest hue. Then the scroll stopped its unrolling and she saw as if one of the blood-red blotches swirled into a living misty memory.

  "There, before her horror-stricken eyes, she saw reenacted with painful precision one of the sins that had so often be stained her life. Sobbing aloud and turning away she found herself faced by another scene from which she had no power to turn. 'Vile wretch!' she heard herself scream at her husband, 'Come to your senses before they clap you up in the madhouse!'

  "Then the scene changed again and she saw he who had been her brave protector and gentle lover tied to a stake. He was all over wounded and bleeding from many sharp daggers stabbed into his chest. A ghostly hand wielded yet another dagger and plunged it deep into his heart. It was a woman's hand! Her woman's hand. Looking closer she was horrified to see that each dagger was made from words. Words that had been forged upon the anvil of her own hard-as-steel heart!"

  "'Aauuggh,' screamed Christiana, starting awake to find herself bathed in a cold sweat. 'Oh, forgive me, dear husband! Please forgive me.' But there was no hope of comfort in her words, for she knew that there was no traffic between this life and that which is to come. So she mopped her face and lay her down to spend the remainder of an already long night tossing, and turning, and wishing for the day.

  "Now her blood-curdling scream could not help but jolt awake all four of her young sons. Yea, before the echo had fairly died away the boys were all sitting stiffly upright in their beds staring fearfully into the murky shadows of the fearsome night.

  "What's that?" whimpered wee little James.

  "'Tis only our mother having another nightmare," groaned Samuel wearily. "Get thee back to sleep."

  "Another one!" grumbled Joseph.

  "Aye," moaned Matthew. "She cannot sleep for thinking of her evil treatment of our father. And, to be honest, neither can I."

  "Me neither," said Joseph, sadly. "What do you think, Matthew? Might we not yet redeem the time and hurry after him?"

  "I do wish we could, Joseph," answered Matthew, glumly. "But seeings as how we were so evil to he whom the Lord sent to help us, why should we expect any favor?"

  "Ahh. I don't know," answered Joseph. Then with weary sadness he laid down and pulled the thin covers about his chin saying, "Sleep tight."

  "How I wish I could," sighed Matthew hopelessly, as he vainly searched for a comfortable position on his straw mat. "How I wish I could."

  "I saw next, John, that Christiana had yet another dream. In it she saw two evil spirits hovering over the foot of her bed and speaking thusly . . ."

  "Hear you how this woman screams out?" hissed the first spirit, who had the green-glowing slit-eyes of a serpent.

  "Hear her!" shuddered the second, unable to conceal a facial twitch that manifested whenever he came under stress. "Are you kidding? Why, she screams loud enough to wake the dead! Indeed, so deep is her conviction that she cries out for mercy day and night. If we let her go on this way we may lose her as we lost her husband."

  "Ghastly thought! Don't even think it!" hissed Snake-eyes. "For if she once sets off on pilgrimage, it may be that Apollyon himself may not be able to stop her!"

  "Aauugh," groaned Twitch, "and if that happens, I know what time of day it will be for us!"

  "Aauugh, what time indeed! Torture time!"

  "Aye. If we lose two in a row, our master will deliver us to the inquisitors - those fellow-fiends who take exquisite delight in wringing from burning throats many a wail and scream."

  "Oh, curse the vile day that we were put in charge of an honest man's house," snarled Snake-eye. "Curse the day a third of us ever left the Celestial City to pursue the shimmering mirage of infinite power! Curse everything!"

  "I agree (off the record, of course). But no use now to cry over spilt milk."

  "You're right. The problem at hand is how to stop this woman from thinking about the hereafter? Failing this, all the world will not stop her from becoming a pilgrim! Do you hear, Twitch?! A filthy, rotten, Word-reading, promise-believing, knee-bending pilgrim!"

  "Oh, don't say that! Please don't say that!" whimpered Twitch with convulsed face. "I can already feel the red-hot pinchers, and the flames, and the . . . "

  "Oh stop it, would’ja?!" hissed Snake-eye. "'Tis only action that will save us now. We must devise actions."

  "Hmmm. Actions. Yes! Actions! Only - what actions?"

  "Hmmm. Well, as for me, I shall encourage bickering among her bratlings. This will keep her mind in a constant state of agitation."

  "Ohhh, a wonderfully terrible idea!" exclaimed Twitch. "Me loves the miserable music of bickering blockheads. Feels like a family reunion in the pit."

  "Let us cause holes in their shoes!"

  "After walking through ooze!"

  "Rips in their clothes!"

  "And scrapes on their nose!"

  "Skins on their knees!"

  "And falling from trees!"

  "Bumps on their heads!"

  "And wet in their beds! Ha, ha, ha!"

  "Eggs on the floor!"

  "I can think of no more. Sorry."

  "No matter. Let us impress every godless friend she ever had with the sudden and irresistible inclination to visit their dear old friend, Christiana. Heh, heh, heh."

  "And at her mirror let us point out every new wrinkle on her face."

  "And every hair new-turned gray during the night."

  "Ha, ha! She shall not go on pilgrimage!" gloated the two fiends in gleeful unison.

  "And, if she should be fool enough to attempt the journey," said Twitch with a lecherous grin, "we shall attack her virtue and send her packing back in shame."

  "Heh, heh, heh! Yessss," hissed Snake-eyes. "It worked for the children of Israel at the borders of Canaan Land. It worked for Samson and Zimri. And, surely, it will work for this lonesome wench as well!"

  "Aye. We shall use vile affections such as only we and ours know how to bestow. Ha! Ha! Ha! We shall have her yet!" gloated Twitch, smacking fist into palm.

  "And with that, John, Christiana again started up in bed with a shudder. Her heart raced at a frightful pace and she was again drenched in a cold sweat. But, after a time, she was at last able to calm herself enough to lie down again in hopes that her night of torment was over. But this was not to be, for she now had yet another dream. This time she thought as if she saw Christian, her husband, dwelling in a place of bliss and standing among many immortals. Oh, John. Mere words can ill describe the beauty of his countenance! In her dream she reached out to him, but he saw her not. She called his name, but he heard her not. She trailed after him as he strode the streets of gold with the boundless energy of eternal youth. She followed him into the vast expanse of the throne room and saw there, One sitting upon a throne. She watched Christian bow before Him and then stand. In his hand he carried a golden harp and she was amazed to hear him play upon it with consummate skill. Christian sang a song of his own composing and then said with unbounded joy, 'I heartily thank my Lord and King for bringing me into this place!'

  "Then the company of them that stood about the throne joined Christian's song in glorious harmonies rendering his music richer than words can tell. But as for Chri
stiana, the words were too high for her and she understood them not.

  Christiana's dream of heaven

  "Upon this, Christiana awoke again - this time with tears streaming down her face - tears of joy as well as sorrow: of joy because of the wondrous reward bestowed upon her beloved husband; of sorrow because she knew that, but for the hardness of her heart, she and her boys would have been singing with him. But alas, he was there and she was here. And as for the King, because of her evil treatment of His friend Christian, Christiana scarce knew whether to love Him or fear Him.

  "Now next morning after she had prayed to God (a thing she had but recently begun to do), she spoke to her children about the great rewards of their father. And oh! You cannot believe how their brave young hearts beat fast with high resolve to join him. Oh! How the little warriors longed to put on sword and armor to avenge the tortures laid upon their hero. But, as yet, they knew not which way to go, or indeed, whether they were even invited. Therefore, for the time being they could only vow to follow what little light they had until more should be sent.

  "Then Christiana sent the boys off to their chores (for although she had played the fool in the matter of her husband, yet she was altogether too wise to let her boys grow up as lazy louts).

  CHAPTER III

  The Call

  "Well, not long after, there was a firm knocking at Christiana's door. Startled from her cogitations upon her future, she answered, 'If you come in God's name, come in' (this she said because she feared it might be another visit from one of those godless women who had suddenly begun to descend upon her in droves)."

  "Amen," said one from without as he opened the door. There entered in a powerful and handsome young man who, upon entering, said, "Peace be to this house."

  "Now Christiana, without knowing why, felt herself to be in the presence of royalty. So she blushed and trembled, and knew not what answer to give."

  "Fear not, Christiana," said he kindly. "Do you know why I am here?"

  "No, my lord," said she, timidly.

  "My name is Secret. I come from among those who dwell with Christian upon high."

  "Ah!" gasped Christiana, involuntarily.

  "In that place it is rumored about, that you have conceived a desire to join us there."

  "Oh, aye, my lord," said she, earnestly. "My desire is deeper than you can know. If only I could believe that there was hope for one so vile as I."

  "It is also reported that you recognize the evil you have done your husband, your children and yourself."

  "Aye," she confessed with a choke in her voice and tears welling up in her eyes.

  "We hear tell that you understand something of the sinfulness of keeping your little ones in their ignorance."

  "Yes! Yea, my heart sinks down within me at the mere thought of my guilt. Oh hope, hope!" she cried out, as salty tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "Oh, that I had ground for but one small pinch of hope!"

  "We hear too that you have begun to make amends by sharing with them what little light you have."

  "Yes, my lord," said Christiana as she daubed at her tears with the corner of her tattered, but clean apron. "I have only a pitiful mite of knowledge to share; but my children know it all. Do tell," said she with deep earnestness, "is there any hope for me? Any hope at all?"

  "Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to say that He is a God eager to forgive; and who takes great delight in multiplying pardon for offenses."

  "Indeed?"

  "Aye. He also bids you come sit at His table where He will feed thee with the choicest delights of His House. Moreover, He desires to fulfill to you all the promises made to Jacob, your spiritual father."

  "Oh! This is amazing! So wonderfully amazing!"

  "In the land whence I come there dwells a man, Christian by name, who was your husband."

  "Yes! I have seen him in my dreams."

  "He dwells with legions of those who are his companions. He, and they, and their King, will shout for joy when they shall hear the sound of your feet over your Father's threshold."

  "At this, Christiana was choked with emotion and could do no more than bow her head in silence. Then said her visitor gently,

  "Christiana, I have something for you. It comes direct from your husband's King." Then he reverently took a letter from his bosom and held it forth, saying, "Here, take it."

  "A letter? From . . . the King? For me?"

  "Aye," answered he softly.

  "So she, with timid awe, stretched out trembling hand to take it. Writ on its face, in bold angelic hand, was her own name: Christiana. She stared upon it long and hard, afraid to believe that it could truly be for she. Looking up with a question in her eye she saw that her guest was sporting a wondrously happy smile. Said he with a pleasant nod, 'Yes, Christiana. 'Tis indeed for thee. Open it.'

  "And so she did. And, as it was opened, there wafted forth traces of the finest perfume. Unfolding the letter itself she saw that it was written in letters of gold and on the finest parchment. Moving closer to light of window she read these marvelous words: 'The King of the Celestial City would have you, Christiana, to do as did your husband; for that is the way to come to His City, and to dwell in His presence with joy for ever.'

  "At this the good woman was near to falling away in a swoon. But, with some help from the window sill, she caught herself and cried out to her visitor, 'Oh, bless him! Bless Him!' Then, kneeling before her guest, she cried, 'Sir, please carry me and my children back with you, that we also may go and worship this King of kindness.'

  "Then said Secret sadly, 'Christiana, in this land of darkness the sweet comes before the bitter. But in the country to whence you journey, the bitter is before the sweet. Your husband entered into his glory through many trials and you must not think it shall go any easier for thee. Therefore I advise thee to do as did Christian, your husband.'

  "What?" she asked earnestly.

  "Then Secret took her by the hand and led her to the door. Opening it and pointing, he said, 'Do you see the faint glowing of light across yonder plain?'

  "Straining her eyes to see, she answered at last, 'Yes, I think I do.'

  "You must go across yonder wide, wide field. From there you will journey up to the wicket gate that stands at the head of the pilgrim way. When you get there, knock loudly. You will be admitted and instructed what to do next."

  "Oh, I will, good sir!" she exclaimed gleefully. "I will! Oh! You have turned my darkness into light and my sorrow into joy! How can I ever thank you?"

  "You can thank me by keeping your eye on the light, by never looking back, and by taking no detours along the way. Do this and you will come to the City soon enough. As for my thanks - reward enough to watch your husband carry you across the threshold of his mansion. Fair enough?"

  "More than fair enough! I shall do it!" vowed Christiana solemnly. "You shall hear my voice outside my Father's gate as quick as feet can scurry."

  "Good. I shall carry your words as a promise to your husband. To help ease your way, I advise thee to put this letter in your bosom. Lose it not, for this will gain you admission at the far gate. Read it oft to thyself and to thy children until you have got it by heart. Put it to a song that you can play on your fiddle to sing and cheer thee along dreary byways."

  "Yes, my lord. I shall! Thank you. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

  "And now, 'tis time to go. I bid thee, Christiana, wife of Christian the pilgrim, God speed." With that, he bowed low, kissed her hand, and turned to go. Christiana stood in her rickety doorway and watched as he strode purposefully up the muddy street. Then, for the briefest of moments she glanced down to admire the golden letter in her hand. When she looked after him again, her mysterious visitor was nowhere to be seen.

  Now, I saw in my dream that as Mr. Sagacity told me this story, he himself was deeply moved by it - yea, almost to tears. But, at last, he collected himself and continued,

  "So," said he, "when Christiana was assured that Secret was indeed no more to
be seen this side of the Kingdom, she once again read the wondrous words of invitation. She breathed in the heavenly scent of celestial perfumes and then fell to her knees on the packed earthen floor. With eyes looking up and tears streaming down, she said simply,

  "Oh, Lord of the hill, I do thank thee for deigning to look upon this vile woman with heaven's great love. I beg thee forgive what I have done in my foolishness. Do thou please help me redeem the time and make amends to my boys. May I be as true in my pilgrimage as my husband was in his. And by thy help may I and my wee lambs soon look thee in the face with joy. Amen!"