Christiana Read online

  Christiana began to rise, but a new thought drove her back to her knees. Said she through a new flood of tears, "And dear King, please tell my husband I am on my way." Then she arose and with an enthusiasm not manifested for years cried out, "Boys! Boys! Come quickly!"

  "Well, as you might well imagine, this was not the tone of voice the boys were accustomed to hearing. Therefore they scrambled all over each other in their eagerness to hear what could have made such a wondrous change. How could cries of hopeful joy spring from a woman of such deep sorrow? So as soon as they were come to eager attention, she began, saying,

  "My sons, you know well the depth of my grief for your father."

  The boys looked knowingly upon each other, but yet held their peace.

  "Not that I doubt his happiness," she continued, "for I know that all is well with him. No. My heaviness of spirit comes from knowing that it is on my account that we live our lives in hopeless misery."

  Once again the boys looked knowingly upon each other, but held their peace still.

  "I tell you truly, boys, the nightmares I had would have slain me with guilt were it not that God sent me a good dream after them. Then today there came a noble-looking gentleman who has given me more encouragement yet! Look!" cried she, holding forth the wondrous letter.

  "What is it, Mama?" asked little James.

  " 'Tis a letter, silly-head," whispered Joseph into his brother's ear.

  "I know it's a letter," said he, pushing his brother away. "Anybody knows it's a letter. But what does it say?"

  "I don't know."

  "'Tis an invitation from the King of kings!" exclaimed Christiana. "We are invited to go on pilgrimage as did your father!"

  "Can it be?" said Matthew, scarcely able to credit his ears. "After the way we treated him?"

  "Yes! Look for yourself," she declared, holding forth the golden treasure. Then Matthew read it saying, "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."

  "Isn't it wonderful, boys? Is it not . . ." and at this, she broke down and began to sob, "Oh, me! Oh, me! Oh, me! Oh, me!"

  "Weep not, gentle mother," said Samuel with a tender embrace, "This be good news!"

  "I know, my son. I know."

  "Then why do you weep?"

  "Because it is the nature of woman-kind thus to do when they are overflowed with joy."

  "Oh," answered Samuel.

  "What did she say?" queried James.

  "She said she's crying because she's happy," replied Samuel.

  "Oh." Then the wee lad screwed up his face in deep thought before asking, "Why?"

  "That's just the way ladies do, I guess," returned Samuel.

  "Oh," said he. Then puzzlement again crossed his little face and he asked again, "Why?"

  "I don't know why, Jamie. Only girls know why."

  "Oh."

  "Mother!" shouted Matthew, "This is great news! News worthy of great rejoicing!"

  "I know, I know. Come, my children. Let us pack up and be got off to the wicket gate! It leads to the Celestial country where we shall see your father! We will go to him and dwell with him in peace, according to the laws of that land."

  "Let us pack up and be got off"

  Upon hearing these words of hope from their mother, all the boys burst out into cheers of rejoicing. Then said Matthew, "Follow me, boys. Hip, hip . . . "

  "Hurrah!" shouted all.

  "Hip hip . . . "

  "Hurrah!" shouted all.

  "Hip hip . . . "

  "Hurrah!" shouted all, "Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"

  Then, as young boys are apt to do when joy exceeds vocabulary, the lads began to push and shove, tug and tussle, jostle and jump for joy. Then said Christiana, "Come, boys. Let us be a-packing up for travel. Matthew, be sure to bring along Papa's favorite staff. The one he called 'faith.' We are like to need it a time or two. Hurry now, boys, for the sun will not wait while we dawdle." And so began eager preparations for their journey.

  CHAPTER IV

  Opposition

  But while they were thus preparing to be gone, two women that were Christiana's near neighbors came strolling by, and, becoming curious by reason of all the commotion, paused to knock at her door. To this she answered, as had become her custom, "If you come in God's name, come in." At this, the two women looked upon each other in stunned silence. And no wonder. For certainly these were not words that normally fell from the lips of Christiana!

  "I smells a rat, I do," muttered the elder of the two, named Mrs. Timorous. (She was a rather plumpish and graying biddy and was daughter-in-law to that Mr. Timorous who sought to discourage Christian at the Hill Difficulty). "I wonder what we should do?" she continued. "Sounds like a circus in there."

  "Knock again," suggested her companion, a gentle lass named Mercy. "It may be that we have not heard aright."

  "All right," answered Mrs. Timorous. So she knocks again, only to hear once more, "If you come in God's name, come in."

  "Do we dare enter?" queried Mercy.

  "I made it to church last Christmas. You?"

  "Yes"

  "And Easter too?"

  "Yes."

  "Well then," answered the old gal curtly, "I 'spose we can enter in God's name as well as the next."

  So she put her shoulder to the door and pushed her way into the dim bowels of Christiana's cottage. As their eyes grow accustomed to the dimness, they notice that Christiana seemed to be packing her belongings.

  "Hmmm. Packin' up, do I see?" said Mrs. T. "Where might ye be off ta, lassie?"

  Mrs. Timorous: "Where might ye be off ta, lassie?

  "I am preparing for a journey."

  "As any blind bat can see, dear! But for what journey, pray tell?"

  "I am going on after my husband," answered Christiana, continuing to pack.

  "What! On pilgrimage!" exploded Mrs. T, smacking palm to forehead smartly. "Oh puh-leeze! Do tell poor old Mrs. Timorous that this is just a bad dream."

  "Nay, but a good dream. A good dream come true," returned Christiana, not slowing her work one whit.

  "Mercy," whispered the old gal in her companion's ear, "best ye gets ta praying hard, honey. This could be serious."

  "Yes'm," answered Mercy quietly.

  "Pray, reconsider, neighbor Christiana. For sake of life and limb, do not venture out on such a deadly path as that!"

  "I care not about this mortal flesh, dear Druscilla. If I can only see the face of Him that sits upon the throne."

  "Well then, if you're so determined to walk down that deadly trail, at least show some love to these poor pups of yours!"

  "Nay, but we will all go!" cried Samuel. "Hip, hip . . ."

  "Hurrah!" shouted the boys - and that so loudly as to disturb a gentle haze of dust that filtered down from creaky rafters.

  "As you see, dear Neighbor Timorous, there is not one willing to be left behind."

  "Hmmph!" snorted the old matron. "Now what on earth, after all this time, has kicked all the good sense out of your brain?"

  "Oh, dear Druscilla," pleaded Christiana. "If you but knew one tenth of what I know, why, you would join me in a flash!"

  "And what knowledge is so seductive to separate thee from kith and kin and send thee a-packin' off to who knows where? Answer me that if ye can!"

  "All right. As you know, I have been sorely afflicted since my husband's departure from me."

  "Aye."

  "But especially so since he went over the river."

  "But of course, dolly. 'Tis only natural to grieve over a loved one forever gone."

  "Yes, but what grieved me more than his death was my wicked treatment of him whilst he lived."

  "Bah!" snorted Mrs. T. "He suffered from an addled brain. You should 'ave put'im in the nut-house straight off!"

  "Nay," retorted Christiana, "but he suffered under conviction from God Himself - as do I now."

  "Wh
at!"

  "'Tis verily so! And nothing will ease my mind but to follow after."

  "Oh, no! Oh, woe the day! (Are ye a prayin', Miss Mercy?)" hissed Mrs. T. through clenched teeth.

  "Aye," answered Mercy softly, although she was not entirely sure who should be praying for whom.

  "And do tell, my dear Christiana, is there anything more than vain regrets what sends ye a-packin' off on this death march?"

  "Oh, yes! A few nights ago I saw him in a dream."

  "What! Has it come down to nightmares now? Aauuggh!"

  "Yes. I saw that he dwells in the presence of the King of the Country; he sits and eats with Him at His own table; he is become the companion of immortals and he lives in a house that makes the mayor's mansion seem like a dung hill."

  "Dreams! Sorrows! Loneliness! Nothing but empty feelings that come a-drooling straight out of a scrambled brain!"

  "So I might have thought. But the Prince of that place has also sent for me to come to Him."

  "Indeed now! And how did He send for thee, pray tell?" challenged the old biddy, planting hands firmly upon ample hips and thrusting out her chin. "Go on, tell me that if ye can! How?"

  "By His own personal messenger who was here but a few moments ago."

  "Eh? Surely you don't mean that distinguished-looking gentleman we saw walking down your street!"

  "Yes. The same!"

  "Say now, weren't he a prize piece of manhood! Kinda wish I'd a combed my hair this week. But anyway. So you claim that he was some sort of messenger, eh, Christiana?"

  "Yes, a heavenly one from the King."

  "Well, I will confess that he did look heavenly! (right, Mercy?) But are you saying that he gave you some words of invitation?"

  "More than words! He brought me a letter from the Lord of the Hill!"

  "What! A letter!"

  "A letter?" queried Mercy with new interest.

  "Yes, a letter," answered Christiana smiling joyfully. And with that, she plucked the letter from her bosom and held it out to Mrs. Timorous who eyed it with suspicion. "Do take it, dear Druscilla. It won't hurt you."

  "Hmmm," murmured Mrs. T. as she took it with superstitious caution.

  "My! It smells heavenly," sighed Mercy.

  "Shush, Mercy!" scolded Mrs. T. "This is way too serious for gushy sentimentalism."

  "Look!" exclaimed Mercy, too much lost in wonder to hear harsh words. "It be all writ in letters of gold! Do read it, please."

  "All right! All right!" groused Mrs. T. as she pulled back from Mercy's eager gaze. "Stop drooling on my sleeve, would'ja!" So the old gal pushes the hair out of her eyes and begins to read, "The . . . K . . . King of the S . . . Cel . . . Celes . . . "

  "Celestial City," broke in Mercy.

  "I can read, Mercy!" said Mrs. T. with an icy glare. "A hem. 'The King of the Celestial City w . . . would have you, K . . . Christiana, to do as did your husband; for that is the way to come to His City, and to dwell in His pr . . . presence with joy for ever'. Hmmm. Cute. And do you actually believe this to be genuine?"

  "Oh, yes. With all my heart."

  "Oh, no! Your husband's madness has lit upon you! Why, to even think of running off into such a muck of difficulties! Surely you have heard Obstinate's report of how he was attacked by such great difficulties right off the bat!"

  "Yes."

  "And surely you saw mucky Pliable come shivering home to report the horrors of the Slough of Despond."

  "Yes."

  "And surely you have heard the traveling minstrel sing of how Christian met with lions, Apollyon, the Valley of The Shadow of Death, the inquisitors of Vanity Fair, and even the nine foot giant named Despair!"

  "Yes."

  "Well, if his friend Faithful was burned alive, and he, an able-bodied soldier scarce escaped with his life, who do you think you are, weak and tender woman?"

  "I am indeed a weak and tender woman. Therefore I must trust all the more that my King's invitation will be my King's enabling."

  "Bah! So now yer callin' upon magic, are ye? Well, before you go dashin' off all half-cocked, best you think for a moment about these tender little ones here. Do you dare expose thy very flesh and bones to the tearing talons of the great lions? Surely, love for the fruit of thy body will save you from this insanity."

  "Enough!" declared Christiana with a stamp of her foot. "No more tempting words, please! I have in my hand the key to eternity and I should be the biggest fool on God's flat earth if I should let this opportunity pass me by!"

  "But the dangers you . . . "

  "Shush, dear Druscilla! These dangers show me that I am in the right way, for the water is only swift to those who swim upstream. The bitter must come before the sweet; and more bitter now means all the sweeter then."

  "But . . . "

  "No more 'buts' from you! I bade you enter only if you were come in God's name and you have deceived me! Wherefore, I pray you be gone and disquiet me no further!"

  "Bah! The queen of fools is what ye are! C'mon, neighbor Mercy. Since she styles herself too good for the likes of us, we'll let her reap what she sows!"

  But Mercy answered not, because she was now stuck quite fast between a rock and a hard place. And this for two reasons.

  First, because she had become so deeply attached to this new Christiana and was not at all eager to part company with her.

  Thought she within herself, "If my neighbor is indeed saying goodbye forever, I should like to go a little ways with her and help her on her journey."

  Secondly, her heart had begun to have a care for her own soul. So she said again to herself, "I must needs speak more with this Christiana and see wherein lieth the truth of this matter. If she continues to make such good sense, how can I help but to pack up my heart and go with her?"

  Now by this time Mrs. Timorous was tapping her foot impatiently. "Mercy!" she snapped.

  "Hmmm? Wha?" answered Mercy.

  "Are you with us?"

  "Oh, I, uh, why, yes. I think I am. What were you saying?"

  "I said, off with us! Christiana has dropped her brains in the skillet and I fear the disease may be contagious as the plague. Open the door!"

  "Uh, well, neighbor Timorous, since Christiana is leaving her country forever . . ."

  "Aye! You'd better believe forever. Straight into the jaws of death she goes!"

  "Yes'm. But since it is such a nice sun shiny morning, and since I may never see her again, I think I should like to go with her a little distance to help her on her way." But regarding her second reason, Mercy said nothing.

  Then said Mrs. Timorous, "Help her! Bah! The only way you can help her is to talk her out of this madness! Or might you be inclined to run a fool's errand as well!"

  Mrs. Timorous: "Or might you be inclined

  to run a fool's errand as well, Mercy?"

  "Uh, no. Not necessarily."

  "Not necessarily! Now best you listen to me, young lady! Wise up while ye still have a brain to wise up with! While we are out of danger, we are out; but when we are in, we are in! When it comes to trouble, 'tis easier to stay out than to get out!"

  "Uh, yes’m. Thank you, Ma'am."

  "Well, since I see you standing there as still as a doltish dunce, I shall wait no longer for you. I am clear of your blood. Outta my way, wench!"

  And so Mrs. Timorous spun on her heel and stomped for the door. "Uh, neighbor Timorous!" called Christiana.

  "What!" snapped Mrs. T, pausing momentarily with hand on the door latch.

  "May I have my letter, please?"

  "Letter! Oh, you mean this base forgery? Here, take it!" she said as she thrust the precious document into the eager hands of Christiana. Then she shouldered the complaining door open and stomped off down the street muttering, "Bitter before the sweet indeed! Fool woman is like to lose everything!" Then, passing the house of Mrs. Bat's-eyes, one of her closest cronies, and, hearing the sound of raucous laughter coming from within, she pushed the door open and entered in without pausing to knock.
Upon entering, she saw that Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing were gathered in the parlor.

  Mrs. Timorous's Neighbors