we two-第42章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


g　she　most　loved。　　Oh；　if　she　could　but　honestly　think　that　He　who　called　Himself　the　Light　of　the　world　was　indeed　still　living；　still　ready　to　help！

But　to　allow　her　distress　to　gain　the　mastery　over　her　would　certainly　disturb　and　grieve　her　father。　　With　a　great　effort　she　stifled　the　sobs　which　would　rise　in　her　throat；　and　waited　in　rigid　stillness。　　When　the　last　notes　of　the　hymn　had　died　away　into　silence；　she　turned　to　look　at　her　father。　　He　had　fallen　asleep。


CHAPTER　XVIII。　Answered　or　Unanswered？

〃Glory　to　God　to　God！〃　he　saith；　〃Knowledge　by　suffering　entereth；　And　life　is　perfected　by　death。〃　　E。　B。　Browning

〃Mr。　Raeburn　is　curiously　like　the　celebrated　dog　of　nursery　lore；　who　appertained　to　the　ancient　and　far…famed　Mother　Hubbard。　　All　the　doctors　gave　him　up；　all　the　secularists　prepared　mourning　garments；　the　printers　were　meditating　black　borders　for　the　'Idol…Breaker；'　the　relative　merits　of　burial　and　cremation　were　already　in　discussion；　when　the　dog　we　beg　pardon　the　leader　of　atheism；　came　to　life　again。

〃'She　went　to　the　joiners　to　buy　him　a　coffin；　But　when　she　came　back　the　dog　was　laughing。'

〃History；〃　as　a　great　man　was　fond　of　remarking；　'repeats　itself。'〃

Raeburn　laughed　heartily　over　the　accounts　of　his　recovery　in　the　comic　papers。　　No　one　better　appreciated　the　very　clever　representation　of　himself　as　a　huge　bull…dog　starting　up　into　life　while　Britannia　in　widow's　weeds　brought　in　a　parish　coffin。　　Erica　would　hardly　look　at　the　thing；　she　had　suffered　too　much　to　be　able　to　endure　any　jokes　on　the　subject；　and　she　felt　hurt　and　angry　that　what　had　given　her　such　anguish　should　be　turned　into　a　foolish　jest。

At　length；　after　many　weeks　of　weary　anxiety；　she　was　able　to　breathe　freely　once　more；　for　her　father　steadily　regained　his　strength。　　The　devotion　of　her　whole　time　and　strength　and　thought　to　another　had　done　wonders　for　her；　her　character　had　strangely　deepened　and　mellowed。　　But　no　sooner　was　she　free　to　begin　her　ordinary　life　than　new　perplexities　beset　her　on　every　side。

During　her　own　long　illness　she　had　of　course　been　debarred　from　attending　any　lectures　or　meetings　whatever。　　In　the　years　following；　before　she　had　quite　regained　her　strength；　she　had　generally　gone　to　hear　her　father；　but　had　never　become　again　a　regular　attendant　at　the　lecture　hall。　　Now　that　she　was　quite　well；　however；　there　was　nothing　to　prevent　her　attending　as　many　lectures　as　she　pleased；　and　naturally；　her　position　as　Luke　Raeburn's　daughter　made　her　presence　desirable。　　So　it　came　to　pass　one　Sunday　evening　in　July　that　she　happened　to　be　present　at　a　lecture　given　by　a　Mr。　Masterman。

He　was　a　man　whom　they　knew　intimately。　Erica　liked　him　sufficiently　well　in　private　life；　and　he　had　been　remarkably　kind　and　helpful　at　the　time　of　her　father's　illness。　　It　was　some　years；　however；　since　she　had　heard　him　lecture；　and　this　evening；　by　the　virulence　of　his　attack　on　the　character　of　Christ；　he　revealed　to　her　how　much　her　ground　had　shifted　since　she　had　last　heard　him。　　It　was　not　that　he　was　an　opponent　of　existing　Christianity　her　father　was　that；　she　herself　was　that；　and　felt　bound　to　be　as　long　as　she　considered　it　a　lie　but　Mr。　Masterman's　attack　seemed　to　her　grossly　unfair；　almost　willfully　inaccurate；　and；　in　addition；　his　sarcasm　and　pleasantries　seemed　to　her　odiously　vulgar。　　He　was　answered　by　a　most　miserable　representative　of　Christianity；　who　made　a　foolish；　weak；　blustering　speech；　and　tried　to　pay　the　atheist　back　in　his　own　coin。　　Erica　felt　wretched。　　She　longed　to　get　up　and　speak　herself；　longing　flatly　to　contradict　the　champion　of　her　own　cause；　then　grew　frightened　at　the　strength　of　her　feelings。　　Could　this　be　mere　love　of　fair　play　and　justice？　　Was　her　feeling　merely　that　of　a　barrister　who　would　argue　as　well　on　one　side　as　the　other？　　And　yet　her　displeasure　in　itself　proved　little　or　nothing。　　Would　not　Charles　Osmond　be　displeased　and　indignant　if　he　heard　her　father　unjustly　spoken　of？　　Yes；　but　then　Luke　Raeburn　was　a　living　man；　and　Christ　was　she　even　sure　that　he　had　ever　lived？　　Well；　yes；　sure　of　that；　but　of　how　much　more？

When　the　assembly　broke　up；　her　mind　was　in　a　miserable　chaos　of　doubt。

It　was　one　of　those　delicious　summer　evenings　when　even　in　East　London　the　skies　are　mellow　and　the　air　sweet　and　cool。

〃Oh；　Tom；　let　us　walk　home！〃　she　exclaimed；　longing　for　change　of　scene　and　exercise。

〃All　right；〃　he　replied；　〃I'll　take　you　a　short　cut；　if　you　don't　mind　a　few　back　slums　to　begin　with。〃

Now　Erica　was　familiar　enough　with　the　sight　of　poverty　and　squalor；　she　had　not　lived　at　the　West　End；　where　you　may　entirely　forget　the　existence　of　the　poor。　　The　knowledge　of　evil　had　come　to　her　of　necessity　much　earlier　than　to　most　girls；　and　tonight；　as　Tom　took　her　through　a　succession　of　narrow　streets　and　dirty　courts；　misery；　and　vice；　and　hopeless　degradation　met　her　on　every　side。　　Swarms　of　filthy　little　children　wrangled　and　fought　in　the　gutters；　drunken　women　shouted　foul　language　at　one　another　everywhere　was　wickedness　everywhere　want。　Her　heart　felt　as　if　it　would　break。　　What　was　to　reach　these　poor；　miserable　fellow　creatures　of　hers？　　Who　was　to　raise　them　out　of　their　horrible　plight？　The　coarse　distortion　and　the　narrow　contraction　of　Christ's　teaching　which　she　had　just　heard；　offered　no　remedy　for　this　evil。　　Nor　could　she　think　that　secularism　would　reach　these。　　To　understand　secularism　you　meed　a　fair　share　of　intellect　what　intellect　would　these　poor　creatures　have？　　Why；　you　might　talk　forever　of　the　〃good　of　humanity；〃　and　〃the　duty　of　promoting　the　general　good；〃　and　they　would　not　so　much　as　grasp　the　idea　of　what　〃good〃　was　they　would　sink　back　to　their　animal…like　state。　　Instinctively　her　thoughts　turned　to　the　Radical　Reformer　who；　eighteen　hundred　years　ago；　had　lived　among　people　just　as　wicked；　just　as　wretched。　　How　had　　He　worked？　　What　had　He　done？　　All　through　His　words　and　actions　had　sounded　the　one　key…note；　〃Your　Father。〃　　Always　He　had　led　them　to　look　up　to　a　perfect　Being　who　loved　them；　who　was　present　with　them。

Was　it　possible　that　if　Christians　had　indeed　followed　their　Leader　and　not　obscured　His　teaching　with　hideous　secretions　of　doctrine　which　He　had　assuredly　never　taught　was　it　possible　that　the　Christ…gospel　in　its　original　simplicity　would　indeed　be　the　remedy　for　all　evil？

They　were　coming　into　broader　thoroughfares　now。　　A　wailing　child's　voice　fell　on　her　ear。　　A　small　crowd　of　disreputable　idlers　was　hanging　round　the　closed　doors　of　a　public…house；　waiting　eagerly　for　the　opening　which　would　take　place　at　the　close　of　service…time。　　The　wailing　child's　voice　grew　more　and　more　piteous。　　Erica　saw　that　it　came　from　a　poor　little　half…clad　creature　of　three　years　old　who　was　clinging　to　the　skirts　of　a　miserable…looking　woman　with　a　shawl　thrown　over　her　head。　　Just　as　she　drew　near；　the　woman；　with　a　fearful　oath；　tried　to　shake　herself　free　of　the　child；　then；　with　uplifted　arms；　was　about　to　deal　it　a　heavy　blow　when　Erica　caught　her　hand　as　it　descended；　and　held　it　fast　in　both　her　hands。

〃Don't　hurt　him；〃　she　said；　〃please　don't　hurt　him。〃

She　looked　into　the　prematurely　wrinkled　face；　into　the　half…dim　eyes；　　she　held　the　hand　fast　with　a　pressure　not　of　force　but　of　entreaty。　　Then　they　passed　on；　the　by…standers　shouting　out　the　derisive　chorus　of　〃Come　to　Jesus！〃　with　which　London　roughs　delight　in　mocking　any　passenger　whom　they　suspect　of　religious　tendencies。　　In　all　her　sadness；　Erica　could　not　help　smiling　to　herself。　　That　she；　an　atheist；　Luke　Raeburn's　daughter；　should　be　hooted　at　as　a　follower　of　Jesus！

In　the　meantime　the　woman　she　had　spoken　to　stood　still　staring　after　her。　　If　an　angel　had　suddenly　appeared　to　her；　she　could　not　have　been　more　startled。　　A　human　hand　had　given　her　coarse；　guilty；　trembling　hand　such　a　living　pressure　as　it　had　never　before　received；　a　pure；　loving　face　had　looked　at　her；　a　voice；　which　was　trembling　with　earnestness　and　full　of　the　pathos　of　restrained　tears；　had　pleaded　with　her　for　her　own　child。　　The　woman's　dormant　motherhood　sprung　into　life。　　Yes；　he　was　her　own　child　after　all。