Gildas Haven

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by Margaret S. Haycraft


  He knows there is much to weigh and consider, but practically his mind is made up before he leaves the hush of the riverside. He is strong and healthy now, fearless of difficulties, quick in acquiring a language, and with some knowledge of mechanical work -- pursued as a recreation -- what could hinder him from offering himself for the field?

  Pendrill has a long talk with the deputation from the parent society, with the good Dean of Dilchester himself, and with his friend Buisson. The latter is the only one who is not surprised at the sudden longing and decision for the mission field. He has felt for some time that to the Vicar of Rosebrake a change was at hand. He has been aware of a restlessness of soul in Pendrill, of expanding powers, enlarging thoughts, readiness, eagerness to do and dare greater things in the unknown future years.

  The missionary committee will welcome the young clergyman, they say with one accord, if after consideration he still volunteers for the work. He leaves them with sunshine on his face, and the heavenly whisper of God's words to Joshua girding him with ardent courage, "Have not I commanded thee? Be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest."

  The necessary interviews have detained Bernard Pendrill the whole day in Dilchester, and it is not until evening that with a restful heart he returns to his home. He feels his prayer for guidance has been answered -- no breath of scandal shall rest on Gildas in a quiet English home, delivered from the troubles of her domestic life, yet exposed to no "separation" save that necessarily enforced by his missionary career.

  They will write often to each other, and her letters will cheer and strengthen him to preach Christ to his flock, who need their Saviour in all His fullness, and can have little to do with creed or doctrine beyond the Lord Himself. She, too, has doubtless been praying that their perplexities may be solved, and both be guided aright. God has heard their prayers, and led his feet by an unforeseen way to service across the seas.

  Yes, Gildas has been praying, and her Lord Himself being her greatest need, she is calmed and helped and rested in communing with Him. Of the future she knows nothing -- the present is full of difficulties -- only one thing has been made clear to her as she prayed: there is nothing save death that must remove her from her husband's side. That wild, resentful thought of separation is for her a sin.

  Whatever may come, whatever Rosebrake hold for her of trial or of thorn, God made her Bernard's helpmeet. Her love, her faith, her patience will yet disperse the mists between them, and the heart of her husband will safely trust in her.

  The gardener buried poor Jones last night at the bottom of the garden among the clustering marigolds. Gildas is just returning from a starlight visit to his grave, when she hears the gate open, and she hurries to her husband's side.

  "You should wear a shawl, my love," he says, bending to kiss her with tenderness that seems to her newborn. "You should not expose yourself to the dew, little woman."

  "Oh, I have not been long out of doors," she answers. "I have only been to my doggie's grave. Jones died yesterday. You didn't know, did you, Bernard?"

  "Jones dead!" he exclaims in real regret, for he has been thinking the faithful creature will be some company for his wife in her nearing loneliness. "That was a trouble indeed for you, Gildas. He was a dear old chap, and our home will be the emptier for his loss. May we all do our duty as faithfully and willingly as your good old collie!"

  "You must have tea, now," says Gildas. "Mr. Fletcher's curate had your telegram today, he told me, and took evensong here, as well as the morning service. He was very good-natured, and wrote me a Latin epitaph for Jones. But what made you stay so long, Bernard? You expected to be back by two."

  He does not tell her until tea is over, and they are together in the lamplight, so quiet of heart, and so untroubled as to coming days, that each feels as though last evening were only a dark dream. Pendrill, in view of the waves that will roll between them, is infinitely gentle and tender in his manner; and she, conscious that while they two live, there will be no shadow of parting, is utterly restful tonight, by some inward power born of prayer.

  With his hand on hers, he tells her of the resolve he has made that day, of the call that has come to him, and his decision to leave this English retreat to preach the Gospel to the unsaved. He tells her he knows he has failed to make her happy, but now without scandal her freedom will again be her own. From some safe, cosy nest, amid the scenes and flowers she loves, she will send to him across the ocean words of cheer and help. No one will now misunderstand their parting, for he goes to difficulties, perhaps to danger, and they will each be nearer in heart in those coming days than they have been in the past weeks of doubt and misunderstanding.

  "So God has answered our prayers for His guidance," says Bernard, "and now you know how the guidance has reached me, dear wife -- and all is well."

  But Gildas has risen up and stands beside him, such a light on her face as shone in her father's eyes of yore, as he witnessed to the glory of God.

  She realises that her husband will be going to discouragements, darkness, peril in the name of the Lord, to prepare His way in the hearts of those shadowed ones, amid whom her and Bernard's differences of doctrine and creed will sink low in the simple teaching of Christ Jesus and Him crucified. Is this the honour that God puts on her, to fulfil her heart's desire and longing for mission work, and to grant her that service at her husband's side? To bid her go forth as his cheer, his brightness, his fellow-worker for the sake of their one Lord?

  She looks quietly at Bernard, and he cannot understand the meaning of those shining, dew-wet eyes. She puts both her hands together against his heart, and as he folds them in his own she says softly the words of Ruth, "The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."

  * * *

  And so it comes to pass that one bright morning, all things having been put in order, and many a farewell, many a "Godspeed" spoken, husband and wife stand together on the deck of the outward bound steamer that is just about to leave the London dock for the regions beyond the sea.

  Not only Bernard, but Gildas likewise, has found it hard to part from Rosebrake when the time came for goodbye. Very sweet, very fair in its summer glory looked the home to which she came as a bride, and there were many to bless and thank her for her ministrations in that village, and to tell her that she and the Vicar would be followed by their prayers.

  Even Miss Stretton looked sorry to say farewell, and told her she would sadly miss her in cutting out the clothes for the Mothers' Meeting.

  The Misses Pendrill find themselves heroines and objects of interest in their special relationship with the couple, as related to one who is going out to labour in the interior of those regions, They come over to Rosebrake again for a parting visit bearing presents in the shape of hammocks and travelling writing cases, and full of solicitous warnings as to lions.

  The parishioners of Saint Simeon's, Meadthorpe, have given the travellers a couple of restful folding chairs; and Rehoboth Chapel members contribute a generously-fitted medicine chest, with all things needful for aid in case of emergency. But beyond all else that she takes away does Gildas treasure a baby fern that has breathed amid Meadthorpe airs, a little life she has tenderly culled from the side of her father's grave.

  The Pendrills are not alone this sunlit morning of their departure on board the Speedwell. Mr. Bertram has come to London on business, and while he is engaged elsewhere, Miss Rowena has come to see them off.

  Here, too, are not only Jasper Ruthven, but Gordon, Milly, and the twins, for all four children have had mumps, and to comfort them during their indisposition their elder brother in a moment of weakness promised them a sight of the ship that would bear Gildas away.

  "Chidgey's at the hotel," says Gordon. "She's frightened of the cabs, so we left her there, and Jasper's going to take us back while he sees his publisher. His great book has come out, you know, Gildas."

  "Yes, and then he's coming home to take
us to the waxworks," says Jemmie. "I want to see the king that had his wives' heads cut off."

  "And we're going to the Zoolodgekle," chime in Milly and Jacky; "and then home at night -- oh, ever so late. Oh, we're enjoying ourselves! We do like coming here to see you off, dear Gildas."

  Gildas turns to Jasper, and tells him in a trembling voice how she and Bernard are reading his poem, "The Rose of Life," and how they treasure it for its own sake and for his.

  "You are having grand reviews, Ruthven," says Bernard, clasping his hand. "You are climbing up Fame's golden ladder. When you are a great man, do not forget old friends."

  "He never will," says Gildas. "And, Jasper, how we will glory far away in your successes and your fame! Father always prophesied greatness for you. I think he knows in Heaven what the world says of your book. It is so good to know that year by year your poems will be turning hearts sunward!"

  Jasper speaks broken yet cheery words of blessing for both. Fame is not the highest joy, the supreme laurel of the heart, and there is a painful wound today that no earthly eye sees.

  There is no need for him to say much. The children chatter enough for all, and the noise around prevents even the little voices from being heard at times. Jasper stands by the side of his 'adopted sister,' waiting for the moment when visitors must leave, and he will see her face no more.

  A sudden cry that startles the little group. A bright-eyed maiden rushes up to Miss Rowena with eager steps, forgetting awe of her former mistress in surprise and delight at finding her here.

  "Anna!" cries Miss Rowena in bewilderment, holding out her hands to the agitated girl. "Surely it cannot be you!"

  "Indeed, and it is, ma'am," says Anna Stutts, who looks quite a bonnie lassie in her neat, dark attire, and a bonnet with the veil flowing over her cloak, and tied beneath her chin with white ribbons. "I'm going to Cairo, Miss Rowena, and I'm maid to a missionary lady, and she's been a deaconess, and there she is. And all them other deaconesses have come to see her off. She give me this cloak and bonnet, and I'm going to help her and the other ladies out there all I can. By-and-by she says I may be able to teach some of the little children in their schools. And, oh, Miss Rowena, it's all through you I ever wanted to be of use to anyone, and do something for Jesus."

  The last words are spoken in a low voice. The two draw aside together, and then Anna explains more coherently how she comes to be on board. Her present employer -- lately one of a band of deaconesses working in London -- is related to the lady for whose service Anna left Meadthorpe, and has been asked to take out an English servant to the Egyptian mission station. Anna, with her parents' consent, volunteered for the post, being strong and not afraid of work, and longing to have some share, however lowly, in Christian service.

  "I have never been able to forget what you taught me at Meadthorpe, ma'am," she says to Rowena. "I tried to get those texts and verses out of my head, but I never could. 'Twas you taught me of the love of God, and I owe everything to you, body and soul'"

  The signal is given for visitors to depart, and one by one they slowly leave the ship, and linger to see her glide away towards the broad Channel she must cross to distant seas.

  Miss Rowena is crying, but through her tears she smiles at Anna Stutts, the first-fruits of her labours as concerns needy, heedless girlhood; and Anna, close to the "missionary lady," waves her handkerchief from the deck.

  Gildas stands up, brave-eyed, calm of face, by her husband's side in the golden morning light. His arm is round her, and his looks are bright with love and courage as he whispers to her that in their Heavenly Father's world they cannot be lonely strangers, for in the Lord, their Dwelling-place, they are at Home.

  So Jasper sees them at the last -- Jasper to whose legs the little twins are clinging, while Gordon clasps his hand, and Milly, mounted on his back for a better view, tells him anew she loves him -- loves him -- and squeezes him about the neck, chattering about Madame Tussauds wax works.

  Slowly, slowly the Speedwell passes thence, the travellers feeling they have started forth for the unknown, untried country. In tones that falter at first, a hymn is begun by the deaconesses grouped upon the shore, and one and another take up the prayer until it swells across the water and floats softly back, re-echoed from the ship:

  God be with you till we meet again;

  By His counsels guide, uphold you;

  With His sheep securely fold you,

  God be with you till we meet again.

  God be with you till we meet again;

  When life's perils thick confound you,

  Put His arms unfailing round you,

  God be with you till we meet again.

  God be with you till we meet again;

  Keep love's banner floating o'er you;

  Smite death's threatening wave before you,

  God be with you till we meet again.

  THE END

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