by Chris Wright
Faithful said he hoped he would be.
"Sometimes people have to suffer a lot," Evangelist said. "Remember, Faithful, no matter what happens to you, the King will give you a crown of life."
At the time I wasn't sure what Evangelist was trying to say, but from the quiet look on Faithful's face it seemed he understood the meaning of those words.
"Tell us more about the road," I begged. "Will it be easier now, or are there other frightening places to pass through?"
Evangelist looked serious. "I came to meet you here," he told us, "because you are near the gates of Vanity Fair, a great town that the evil prince built thousands of years ago. It looks like a beautiful place, full of all kinds of pleasant things."
Does Vanity Fair sound like a good place? What do you think Evangelist is going to tell the two pilgrims to do there?
Evangelist explained that there was never a single day when it wasn't possible to find whatever people wanted in the town. "You can buy and sell silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, houses, land, goods, titles, countries, kingdoms and any sorts of pleasure all through the year."
"Do we have to pass through it?" Faithful asked, sounding anxious. He'd been extremely quiet since Evangelist mentioned the crown of life.
"The evil prince ordered Vanity Fair to be built across the Way of the King," Evangelist explained. "Every pilgrim going to the Celestial City has to pass through it. Even the King's Son had to pass through there, and the evil prince tried to make him buy some of its goods."
"But we don't have to stay there, do we?" I asked, seeing a way out of our problems.
Evangelist shook his head. "No, you don't. But some pilgrims decide to stay for a few days. Then, when they've been in the town a short time, they forget the King."
"What shall we do?" Faithful said. I could tell he was afraid of the place, and I wondered how brave I would be if I meet trouble in Vanity Fair.
Evangelist put a hand gently on Faithful's shoulder. "Walk quietly along the streets," he said. "Don't stop to look at the things in the market. Some days the townspeople leave the pilgrims alone, but there are times when they treat them badly."
"Might they even kill us?" I asked. It was my turn to sound anxious.
"There have been times when the people have been evil enough to kill people who won't serve their prince," Evangelist said. "But don't be afraid, either of you. If you do have to die there, the King will send his angels to carry you to be with him in his City for ever."
The sun was setting by this time, and Evangelist said goodbye. In the fading light we could see the walls and gates of a great town in the distance.
"Are you afraid?" I asked Faithful as we got closer.
"Not very afraid," he said slowly, but I thought he was. "The King will take care of us, and you have your good sword and shield, Christian."
"If you'd stayed at the House Beautiful you would have been given some amour, too," I told him.
"Never mind," Faithful said, with a quick smile. "I'll keep close to you, and if the people do kill me, there will be no more enemies to fight."
We passed under the wide archway just as darkness fell, and we heard the heavy gates slam shut behind us.
Someone has jumbled up the letters on this signpost, to make it spell FAT RAIN IVY! That can't be right. What is the proper name of the town?
The next morning we wanted to get through Vanity Fair quickly. As we passed the market in the town square, some small children came running after us, calling us rude names.
The shouting made everyone turn to see what was happening. Even this early in the day, the market stalls had all sorts of bright and shiny goods for sale, but we took no notice. All we wanted to do was get through the town and safely out the other side.
"You need some good clothes," a man shouted from his stall. "Come and look at what I have for sale. You don't need those silly clothes!"
He was talking to me, but I shook my head. "These are the King's clothes," I called out. "We don't need any of your goods. We're going to the Celestial City."
The children were drawing a big crowd by this time, and there was a lot of shouting. One of the evil prince's servants pushed his way towards us through the crowd. He'd probably seen my shining helmet, so he must have known we were pilgrims.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, as he seized us by our shoulders. "Our prince doesn't allow fighting in his streets."
"We're not fighting," I said. "We're walking along quietly."
"That's nonsense," the man shouted. "I've been watching you two boys. You've caused a disturbance here in the market, and you must come with me."
"We're the King's pilgrims," Faithful said confidently. "We're not disturbing anyone. We only want to pass through your town."
"I don't know anything about the King's pilgrims," the man said angrily. "All I can see is that you're two foolish, troublesome young people, and you must be taken before the Governor."
So he led us down the street to the Governor's house, and the people of the town followed, laughing and making fun of us.
The Governor was a nasty man, and he said we must be beaten, then shut in a cage in the market place.
I tried not to cry out as a man beat us on our backs and legs with a long stick, but I think Faithful was braver than me.
The Governor's soldiers bound our hands and feet with chains, threw us into the cage and left us there. I think everyone in the town came to see us. Some people tried to make us say unpleasant things about the King's Son, but we knew that he was with us, even though we couldn't see him.
Someone shouted that we should be allowed to go free, because we were so brave. Someone else shouted that we should stay in the cage for ever, because we were the King's pilgrims.
And then a fight started in the crowd.
What are the people fighting about?
The people are fighting about whether Christian and Faithful have been punished enough, and should be let out.
The next morning, a man came to unlock the door of the cage.
"Are you letting us go free?" I asked, hopefully.
The man laughed. "Free? You're going to the Governor's Court. Judge Hate-Good sits specially to try prisoners like you. You two are in serous trouble. The judge hates the King."
He pulled us out, and we stumbled forward to the courtroom with our legs still in chains. Once there, Judge Hate-Good demanded to know what we'd been doing.
Before I could say anything, two men stood up and told Judge Hate-Good they were afraid we'd do great harm to the young people of Vanity Fair if we were set free. They said they saw us laughing at the treasures with which the prince had filled the town, and pretending we knew of a finer city, and another King whose laws were better than those of their prince.
Judge Hate-Good said we were guilty and must be punished. I looked around in alarm as some soldiers took us from the courtroom, back to the market square.
We were beaten again, and Faithful fell to the ground. Some of the soldiers kicked him hard where he lay. And they keep kicking and beating him.
I looked up, and there in the sky, high above the angry crowd, I could see a chariot and horses. With a sound of trumpets, Faithful was carried up through the clouds by some of the King's special angels, leaving his broken body in the marketplace.
What does this say?
It says: Where has Faithful gone?
Faithful was now living with the King in the Celestial City, but I woke up not having any idea where I was. I felt too weak to open my eyes and look, but I managed to open them in the end, and realized I was no longer in the cage, but in a small room lying on a low bed.
A woman was bending over me. Although she didn't appear unkind, her face had a strange look that made me careful.
"My husband is the man who keeps the jail," she said. "When you fainted, the soldiers carried you from the marketplace, and I felt sorry for you."
She fetched a bowl of water, and bathed my hands and face, staying with me until
I began to feel better.
"You're too young to be a pilgrim," she told me. "I want to keep you here in this house and take care of you."
That was when I knew I'd been right to be careful. This woman was planning to stop me going on with my journey.
"I was a pilgrim once," she told me, rather sadly, "but the Way was hard. Anyway, I've been happy enough in this town."
"You'd be happier with the King," I said. "Faithful is with him already. I saw the King's angels waiting for him. And if the Governor ever lets me out of this place, I'm going to travel as fast as I can to the end of my journey."
The woman bent down closely, and I could see unhappiness in her eyes. "I was sorry when they told me about Faithful," she whispered, "but they're not going to kill you."
"I don't think I'd mind if they do," I said. "I'll go straight to the Celestial City. Now it seems I'll be kept here forever."
"If you stay here in Vanity Fair with me, I promise I'll be kind to you," the woman told me.
I shook my head. "I can't stay. I love the King, and I must go to him as soon as they let me out of here."
Four days later the keeper of the jail told me that the governor of the town had given an order for me to be given my amour and set free.
The jailor's wife said she was sorry to see me go, and as I left she told me to think of her sometimes.
"I'll let the King know you've helped me," I promised. "Perhaps you'll be a pilgrim again some day. If I see you coming into the Celestial City I'll recognize you."
The woman said nothing as I walked away quietly down the street. I wasn't feeling strong enough to walk quickly, and I was afraid the people would run after me and hurt me again.
I was just passing through the great archway of the far town gate, when I felt a hand on my shoulder!
Oh dear, is Christian in trouble again?
The boy who had stopped me looked frightened. "Let me come with you, Christian," he said in a half whisper. "I don't want to stay in Vanity Fair any longer."
"Are you a pilgrim too?" I asked in surprise.
"I used to be one. My name is Hopeful, and I hate this place. I've stayed here too long, and I want to be a loyal pilgrim again."
When we were clear of the town, Hopeful looked round anxiously. Seeing no one was close, he said, "Some of us were sorry when they killed Faithful. He was brave, and I'm sure he was good. I was passing the jailor's house when they let you go. You don't mind me coming, do you?"
"Not if you really love the King," I told him. "I was thinking I'd have to go the rest of the way by myself, so I'm glad to have company."
"I wanted you to say that," Hopeful said. "I always meant to run away some day."
Before long we came to an open field where the pathway was smooth and easy. Something to the side caught our attention, and we turned to look. It was a dark opening in the hill, like the mouth of a cave.
A boy stood on the hill, calling to us. "My name is Demas. Come up and see this."
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's a silver mine, and some people are already digging in it for treasure. With a little work, you may become rich."
"Come on," Hopeful said, "let's go and look."
I had to pull Hopeful back. "No, it's not safe. I think Demas is a servant of the evil prince. Why else would he invite people to help themselves to silver?"
I called to Demas and asked him if the mine was dangerous.
"It's safe, unless you're careless," Demas shouted back, but even from this distance I could seem him turning red.
"We could go up and have a quick look," Hopeful said in excitement.
"I don't think there's any silver in that mine," I said. "I think there's (what? Six letters) there instead." The answer is in this short poem.
Demas wants to help them
And that sounds good to me.
Nothing could be better than
Getting silver free!
Everybody does it, so
Run up there and see.
(There is a hint on the next page.)
Hint: Only read the first letter of each line to find the missing word.
I pulled him away. "Come on, Hopeful, I'm sure I've heard about the DANGER of this place. Anyway, we can't get to it without leaving the path."
"Don't worry," Demas called. "I can see four others coming behind you."
We turned round and saw four boys following us, so we stayed to see what they would do. The four hurried up the hill and into the cave, and I wondered if they would ever come out.
*
It was getting dark as we came to the bank of a broad river. A sign said it was the River of the Water of Life, where pilgrims could rest safely. It seemed a good place to stay, so we drank some cool clear water from the river, which was pleasant and made us feel less tired.
Hopeful reached up for some fruit growing from one of the green trees, and I picked a handful of the leaves and rubbed them gently into the wounds where I'd been beaten in Vanity Fair. Immediately I could feel the juice from the leaves soothing my cuts and bruises.
On each side of the river we saw a meadow covered in wild flowers. Everything felt peaceful, so we lay down and soon fell asleep.
When we woke the next morning, we watched the sun rise over the hills, and ate more of the fruit and drank from the river. Later that day we bathed in the cool water, and I could feel my whole body being refreshed. So there we rested in perfect safety, eating the fruit, and drinking the healing water of the river.
When we'd been there for several days, I felt fully recovered from my beatings in Vanity Fair. We were ready to continue the journey, but the place was so nice that we decided to stay for a few more days.
"I wonder if we're far from the Celestial City," I said to Hopeful one morning. "Come on, it's long past time we were on our way again."
Hopeful nodded in agreement. "Perhaps after this long rest we'll be able to travel faster than ever," he said, yawning. "But let's not hurry."
The pilgrims had a well-earned rest,
They even wanted more;
But after staying much too long,
Their feet will soon feel (four letters).
What will soon happen to their feet?
I wasn't looking forward to a long walk. We'd rested too long by the River of the Water of Life, and I felt lazy. As soon as we started walking, my feet felt sore, and I hoped the path would be smooth and easy.
We travelled slowly along the Way of the King all that day. Our muscles ached from lack of exercise, my legs felt tired and my back hurt.
Late in the afternoon we came to a place where a stile led off into a broad, green meadow. A sign said By-Path Meadow. I recognized the name as meaning Two-Path Meadow, so I thought one path was probably just as safe as the other for pilgrims.
Our path leading from the river was rough and stony, and my feet were already covered in blisters.
A hedge divided the meadow from the Way of the King, and I could see a smooth, grassy path running alongside the one we were on.
"Let's walk along this path for a little way," I suggested, turning to Hopeful. "The stones are cutting my feet."
"And mine," Hopeful said, "but I don't think that path is safe."
"Oh, it's all right," I insisted. "Look, it runs close to the hedge. We'll be able to climb back onto the Way of the King whenever we want."
Hopeful looked unhappy. "All right," he said at last, "if you're sure it's safe, Christian, I'll go with you."
We climbed over the stile into the meadow, where the grass felt soft to our feet. As it began to get dark, I started to worry.
"I'm sure we're not on the right path," Hopeful said, "but it's too dark now to see anything."
I didn't answer. I knew I'd done wrong in climbing over the stile, and I wondered how I could have been so stupid to think that any path would be safe if it wasn't the Way of the King.
Before I could speak again, heavy drops of rain hit my face. A blinding flash of lightning darted
across the sky, followed by a roar of thunder. Then the rain poured in torrents, and the thunder and lightning were worse than anything I'd ever heard or seen before.
"Quick, let's turn round and go back to the stile," I said in panic. "Let me go first, in case we run into more danger."
Imagine you're Hopeful. Would you let Christian lead the way back? Why?
Hopeful no longer trusted me, and insisted on leading the way back to the stile himself. The heavy rain had already filled the streams that ran through the meadow, flooding the path by the hedge. In places the water was so deep that we could only just keep our footing. I was certain we'd be drowned before we could get back to the Way of the King.
The storm lasted for several hours, and although we struggled on, we found it impossible to make our way back in the darkness. So we sat under some thick bushes close to the hedge, and fell asleep.
*
We woke with a fright, as a loud voice shouted, "What is that I see shining in the bushes?"
A giant was striding through the long grass of the meadow, and he was coming our way. "Who are you?" the giant called in a deep, booming voice.
The giant had untidy hair and a rough beard, and clothes made of the skins of wild beasts. "What are you two doing on my land?" he demanded.
"We're pilgrims," I said, feeling so afraid I could hardly speak. "And we've lost our way."
"Is that so?" the giant bellowed. "You two are in trouble, and you're coming back with me to my castle!"
He dragged us by our arms across the fields to his house, which had the name Doubting Castle above the massive doorway. Once inside, the giant threw us into a dark, stinking dungeon, and left us there without anything to eat or drink.
Hopeful crept close to me and we sat together. I was afraid the giant would lock us up for ever, and we'd never reach the Celestial City.
Suddenly we heard a banging on the door of our dungeon, and a woman's voice called loudly, "My name is Diffidence. I am the wife of Giant Despair. My husband tells me he found you sleeping in his meadow. Oh, how pleased I am to know that you're locked securely in here. My husband is coming to beat you without mercy. And then he'll beat you again. Ah, here he is now. My, what a large stick he has to hit you with." And she screeched with laughter.
