1. Get talking to the traveller on the road to the Radiant City ina friendly way, having prepared his mind beforehand by invisibleinfluence.2. Encourage him to speak of his own experience, his own attainments,either spiritual or physical.3. If he has had any victories, remind him of his prowess and bravery.4. Quote texts to him without their context, to prove that he should bebeyond fear of the enemy.5. Take off his mind as much as possible from the King and Radiant Cityand fix his thoughts on himself.6. Make him think the importance of the armour less for one naturallyso strong.7. Help him to compare himself with other travellers, their slowness,their trips and falls, and make him congratulate himself that he isbetter than they are.8. If possible, take away his sword from him without his notice.9. Induce him to believe that there is a short cut to the Radiant City,and that instead of having to endure hardness, to one who is so far onthe road, the way is smooth.10. Above all things, take his mind off the King, so that he may notcall to Him. All must be done with the greatest possible speed.
1. Get talking to the traveller on the road to the Radiant City ina friendly way, having prepared his mind beforehand by invisibleinfluence.2. Encourage him to speak of his own experience, his own attainments,either spiritual or physical.3. If he has had any victories, remind him of his prowess and bravery.4. Quote texts to him without their context, to prove that he should bebeyond fear of the enemy.5. Take off his mind as much as possible from the King and Radiant Cityand fix his thoughts on himself.6. Make him think the importance of the armour less for one naturallyso strong.7. Help him to compare himself with other travellers, their slowness,their trips and falls, and make him congratulate himself that he isbetter than they are.8. If possible, take away his sword from him without his notice.9. Induce him to believe that there is a short cut to the Radiant City,and that instead of having to endure hardness, to one who is so far onthe road, the way is smooth.10. Above all things, take his mind off the King, so that he may notcall to Him. All must be done with the greatest possible speed.
1. Get talking to the traveller on the road to the Radiant City ina friendly way, having prepared his mind beforehand by invisibleinfluence.2. Encourage him to speak of his own experience, his own attainments,either spiritual or physical.3. If he has had any victories, remind him of his prowess and bravery.4. Quote texts to him without their context, to prove that he should bebeyond fear of the enemy.5. Take off his mind as much as possible from the King and Radiant Cityand fix his thoughts on himself.6. Make him think the importance of the armour less for one naturallyso strong.7. Help him to compare himself with other travellers, their slowness,their trips and falls, and make him congratulate himself that he isbetter than they are.8. If possible, take away his sword from him without his notice.9. Induce him to believe that there is a short cut to the Radiant City,and that instead of having to endure hardness, to one who is so far onthe road, the way is smooth.10. Above all things, take his mind off the King, so that he may notcall to Him. All must be done with the greatest possible speed.
1. Get talking to the traveller on the road to the Radiant City in
a friendly way, having prepared his mind beforehand by invisible
influence.
2. Encourage him to speak of his own experience, his own attainments,
either spiritual or physical.
3. If he has had any victories, remind him of his prowess and bravery.
4. Quote texts to him without their context, to prove that he should be
beyond fear of the enemy.
5. Take off his mind as much as possible from the King and Radiant City
and fix his thoughts on himself.
6. Make him think the importance of the armour less for one naturally
so strong.
7. Help him to compare himself with other travellers, their slowness,
their trips and falls, and make him congratulate himself that he is
better than they are.
8. If possible, take away his sword from him without his notice.
9. Induce him to believe that there is a short cut to the Radiant City,
and that instead of having to endure hardness, to one who is so far on
the road, the way is smooth.
10. Above all things, take his mind off the King, so that he may not
call to Him. All must be done with the greatest possible speed.
Amer groaned again and again as he read these rules.
How he envied that slow and careful traveller, whom he had once despised. He had indeed sunk in deep waters!
Then he remembered that he had his Guide Book in his pocket. Would it give him any rule as to how to act now that he was sorely smitten and enchained? In the dim light of the cave he bent over it.
The words he read were those of Jonah the prophet, who, like Amer, felt by reason of the punishment of his sin that he was cast out of God's presence.
"'I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and He heard me; out of the belly of Hell cried I, and Thou heardest my voice. For Thou hadst cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all Thy billows and Thy waves passed over me. Then I said, I am cast out of Thy sight; yet I will look again toward Thy holy temple . . . . I went down to the bottoms of the mountains; the earth with her bars was about me for ever; yet hast Thou brought up my life from corruption, O Lord my God. When my heart fainted within me I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came in unto Thee, into Thine holy temple.'"
Amer remembered also the words quoted by the Ambassador, "'This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.'"
There was then this one resource left him; to cry to the King. He was indeed poor, as he had nothing at all to boast of. He had discovered that he was as nothing, that even his good efforts were tinged with sin; that his victories were in no way whatever due to his own bravery; that in fact he was a very poor soldier indeed. So he was just the one to cry to the King, for it was written in the Guide Book, that the "poor man cried" and the Lord heard him. All the rest of that day Amer cried unto the King. As the night drew near he still cried. His chains chafed his wrists and ankles and he grew faint and full of pain; but he still cried on.
It was just his one hope, for had not the Great King promised to hear the "poor man?" In an agony of tears and repentance he cried, and at midnight the answer came. Invisible hands broke off his chains, and led him out of the cave; and when to his wonderful joy he felt the fresh air beating on his forehead, he found also that his armour had been returned to him and that once more he was on the way to the Radiant City. But he had to go back a great part of the way before he caught a sight of the City. The valley which he had descended so easily in the company of Spiritual Pride was a steep one to climb up, and it was not till once more he reached the top of the hill from where he had last seen the Radiant City, that he caught sight of it again. And even then his view of it was misty, and remained so for several days.
For some time after Amer had gone through the experiences related in the last chapter, he felt the effects of his time in the cave of Spiritual Pride, and it was long before he regained the elasticity of spirit that was natural to him. He walked more cautiously and steadily, and kept a sharp look-out all round, lest the enemy should get the better of him, and in this way had many a victory, and was saved many a blow.
One day, when somewhat tired with his journey, he came across a woman leading a young girl by the hand.
A glance at the woman's face was enough to convince him that she had to do with the Radiant City, for her face was beautiful with a calm light upon it, which he knew could come from no other source.
Her name was Belthiah,* and the name of the girl Iddo.†
* Daughter of the Lord. † Loving.
"We are going the same way," she said, "and so long as our paths do not diverge, let us keep one another company."
Before long they came across the slow traveller again, still walking steadily and carefully towards the City.
"After all," said Amer to him, "I have been the one to lose time, for after leaving you I fell in with the worst foe that I have met yet, and was completely overcome."
The man looked up with sympathy expressed in every line of his face.
"What was his name?" he asked.
"Spiritual Pride," answered Amer, "and if it had not been for my King sending me help, I should still be a prisoner in his cave."
"Ah!" said the man, "I have had to meet that foe myself, and I know his ways. Poor lad!"
"Mother," said Iddo, "have we met that foe yet?"
"Very possibly, my child, and may not have recognised him. Possibly he might not have taken such pains to overcome us, as he has taken with these two brave servants of the King. But any day he may tempt us, and so we must keep our eyes on the Radiant City, where dwells our King."
"Madam," said Amer, "you do not look as if you had been much troubled on the way. What is the secret of your peace?"
The slow traveller looked uneasily about him.
"I feel the enemy is somewhere near," he said, warningly to Belthiah, "and he is listening for your answer."
The mother gave him a grateful look, but answered simply:
"We have had communion with our King, and He has given us peace."
"And," answered the girl, "we are shod, you know, with the shoes of peace. I lost mine one day, and had to turn back to find them."
"Besides," continued Belthiah, "we have so much to make us happy, so many promises to rest upon."
"And, do you know?" said the girl, looking up confidingly into Amer's face, "it is not quite certain that we shall ever have to cross the dark river, which I cannot help sometimes dreading. The King may come to meet us Himself, and take us up to the City."
"Yes," said her mother, "that is what helps to make us happy. We are looking for Him: and though we gather from the Guide Book that certain events must take place before He comes, they may happen very shortly."
"No, no Madam, there you make a mistake," said an irritable voice behind them, and on looking back they beheld a short, stout man, who had evidently been making a great effort to catch them up, and now stood before them wiping his brow, and much agitated. His voice did not sound like the voice of one travelling to the Radiant City, as it was rasping and irritable, but the King's Mark was on his forehead, and he had his Guide Book under his arm.
"I am always having to argue this point with people," he said, irritably, "there is no event that must happen before the King comes. But there I am, again," he added, ruefully, "always arguing, always disputing, and always irritable. I beg your pardon, Madam, but when I find people who do not see eye to eye with me in these matters, I seem to be unable to listen to them. My name is Chisleu, which means rashness. Alas! I am too rightly named."
"Sir," said the girl, concernedly, "your shoes have gone."
"Ah! that's like me!" he exclaimed, looking round to find his shoes just behind him, "always trying to set others right and going wrong myself. I lose my shoes, and then Temper comes and torments me. And yet I am devoted to my King;" and he gave a look towards the Radiant City, which proved to those around him that his heart was there.
"My good fellow," he said, turning to the slow traveller, "I should be greatly obliged to you if you would tell me how it is you are so successful against the enemy. I have been watching you for a long time as I walked behind you, and you never seem put out whatever happens to you, and I seldom see you even trip."
At the words a pained expression crossed the face of the traveller, and he looked around him carefully, as if expecting to find the enemy at his elbow; moreover, when the stranger praised him, he impulsively put his hands over his ears to prevent hearing. But now turning his eyes steadily towards the Radiant City he said:
"It is written in the Guide Book, 'My strength is made perfect in weakness.'"
Amer, remembering the rules inscribed on the walls of the cave of Spiritual Pride, noticed how the slow traveller resisted the temptation to speak of his own experience, and spoke instead of the King.
"Ah!" sighed the stranger, "you are right. It is because I forget the promises of my King and His Book that I fail; thank you, Sir. But look, what is that crowd I see before me? If some poor fellow is being belaboured by the enemy I must be off to help," and he began running, and would even then have forgotten his shoes, if Iddo had not cried after him,
"Your shoes, your shoes."
"What a warm heart that man has!" said Belthiah, "full of feeling for others and of humility."
"But how cross he was," said Iddo, "not as a soldier of the Great King ought to be."
"Hush, child!" whispered her mother, "the enemy is near. I hear his whisper in your voice. The King tells us not to judge."
When the travellers had reached the crowd they saw a strange sight. A large number of pilgrims with the King's Mark upon them were standing around a man who was talking in a loud voice. In his hand he held the Guide Book, and as he spoke he tore out first one page and then another, throwing them behind him.
"It is not by any means authentic," he was saying, "and certain parts which you have taken for truth are nothing more or less than allegory and fable, while other apparent prophecies were not written by the people you 'suppose, but by men long after the events had happened, so are not prophecies at all."
"Mother, mother," cried Iddo, looking up with tears in her eyes, "do you hear what the man is saying about our Guide Book?"
But before her mother had time to answer, a loud voice rang out, which Iddo recognised at once as that of Chisleu, the stranger with whom they had just been talking.
"That's a lie," he cried, "no one need believe it. The book is true from beginning to end."
Then there arose an uproar.
"Let the preacher alone," cried one, "he says he has studied the question, and moreover confesses that he himself is journeying to the Radiant City. Let him speak. If he has anything to teach us let him do it."
"But it is false," cried Chisleu, "don't listen to him. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing."
"Take the intruder away," shouted some of the bystanders, "we wish to hear what the preacher has to say. It may be true or it may be false, but we wish to hear him."
"Come away, dear," said her mother to Iddo, "it won't do us any good to listen."
"But," said Iddo, "what did he mean? No one ever doubts, surely, the truth of the Guide Book? If it is not true, how shall we ever find our way to the Radiant City, or indeed how do we know that there is a Radiant City to find?" she added, sobbing.
"My child," said the mother, "it is a sad fact that now-a-days there are people who are tearing the Guide Book to pieces. They do not realize what mischief they are doing, and hope that people's faith will grow stronger rather than weaker through their criticism, instead of which the enemy is watching at all such gatherings at which we have been, and is doing his utmost to sow seeds of doubt in people's minds. But I think these very attacks on the Book go to prove its authorship. The enemy cannot leave it alone, as he knows that so long as we have the Guide Book, and love and believe in it, we will follow it and it will lead us to the Radiant City. I have never found the Word to fail me, and it has been the guide of millions of travellers who have now reached Home. Some, indeed, when just crossing the River, have actually seen the King, so that those who have gone as far as they were allowed with them into the dark valley, have been filled with joy, and their faith has been strengthened. The Guide Book is true from beginning to end: that good man was right in what he said, although I could have wished that he had spoken in a more sober manner, and with less heat. But he cannot argue. His heart is better than his head."
"Oh mother, he frightened me," said Iddo, wiping away her tears, "and I saw many people were laughing at him. Is he really journeying to the Radiant City? He is so different from Amer and that good man who has been walking with us."
"He loves the King, my child," said the mother, "and it is his very love that makes him speak when perhaps it would be wiser to be silent. But the King can alter all that is not right in him, and as for me I would rather have the heart on fire than the brain."
"Where is Amer?" suddenly asked Iddo.
Amer had stayed behind to listen, and now was seen coming towards them with his eyes bent in deep thought on the ground, his girdle was hanging loosely about him. They walked together somewhat silently, and only discovered after some time that the slow traveller was by now far ahead of them. Evidently he had not waited to hear the words of the speaker in the crowd, but had walked steadily on, and it was some time before they caught him up. When at last they did so, Amer asked him if he had heard what had been said by the orator.
"When I found what he was speaking about," said the traveller quietly, "I moved on. I made up my mind before I set out on my journey that the Guide Book was the message of the King of the Radiant City, and if it is His Book there can be no fabrication or fable in it."
They had not gone far on the road before they came upon a man sitting bey the wayside with his head hidden in his hands and groaning.
"Friend," said Belthiah, "what is your trouble?"
But he did not look up, a groan was the only answer.
"He has just encountered the enemy," said the slow traveller.
"See how wounded he is," said Amer, "and yet his mind is more wounded than his body, he scarcely notices the hurt."
"Ah yes!" moaned the man, "I am sore wounded. I have no strength even to look up, the enemy has overpowered me. I am in the lowest hell."
"Poor man," sighed Iddo gently, "how I wish I could help you."
"Lady," he said urgently to Belthiah, "take your sweet child away, I am no fit company for her; and you, young man, leave me too. I only ask this friend to stay a few minutes with me that I may tell him my trouble."
Slowly they obeyed his request, for none of them could endure the thought of leaving the poor man in such a plight.
"Friend," said the wounded man to the slow traveller, as he sat down beside him, "I have lost my Guide Book and I have lost my sword. In fact the enemy has taken my armour off piece by piece and hope is dead within me."
"When did the enemy attack you?" asked his companion.
"Ah! that is the sad part of the story. I found someone in distress on the road. The great enemy Doubt had him in his grip. His Guide Book had been torn to pieces by those who think they are helping others in taking out leaf after leaf of the volume and throwing it on one side. Forgetful of my own weakness and sin, I spent hours with him trying to combat the enemy by his side, but I forgot to be watchful myself. I thought I was too strong and too brave a soldier to be overcome, and forgot to cry to the King; and as I was talking I suddenly felt the enemy himself seize me, and before I knew where I was he had wrenched the Book and my sword from my hands, and had dealt me a blow which at first I thought was that of my death blow. Friend, hope and light and joy are passed for me. Despair has me in his grip, and rather than endure this misery, and doubt my King and my City, I mean to go by a short cut to the dark river."
Then the slow traveller stood up, looked towards the Radiant City, and prayed.
"Friend," he said, as he fastened his girdle about him more securely, "I will fight the enemy with you."
"Nay, nay," cried the other, "your fate will be the same as mine. I pray you not to hinder your journey in this way. I beseech you not to trouble about me. The enemy will overcome you as he has me. You are happy in your faith. You have your Guide Book next to your heart, and your sword in your hand. You believe in the Radiant City, and in your King. I will not be the one to throw you into the hands of the great enemy Doubt."
"Friend," said the traveller, while a radiant light from the City touched his helmet and illumined his face, "when my King calls me to fight, He will see that I get the victory, and I fight kneeling." And at that he knelt, and the enemy, who had been invisible, came towards him in all his strength, and hurled his battle axe at him, but the traveller parried the blow with the sword. So deadly was the fight that great drops broke out on the forehead of the combatants, as the darkness of night overshadowed them. For many hours they wrestled, and all the time the traveller never rose from his knees.
"Fight," he gasped at last to his companion, "fight, man, for there are more with us than against us, and I see the glimmering of dawn," and even as he spoke a faint light broke upon them, and rested on the traveller's shield, and by its light the wounded man saw that his own Guide Book, and the sword he had lost, were lying by his side within his reach. He stretched out his hands to grasp his sword, and as he did so invisible hands fastened on his armour, bit by bit, and he was strengthened for the fight. So skilfully did he now begin to use his sword that between the two, who both fought on their knees, the enemy gradually began to falter in his attacks, and was finally driven back.
"The King be praised," said the traveller, as he rose, pale and weary, and looked towards the Radiant City. The light of it was on his brow, and his shield and breastplate blazed brighter than they had ever done before, as he began to help the victorious soldier to his feet.
"The King be praised," echoed the other, "'which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.' 'If the Lord Himself had not been on our side . . . they had swallowed us up quick . . . But praised be the Lord; who hath not given us over for a prey unto their teeth.'"
"'Our soul is escaped, even as a bird out of the snare of the fowler,'" added his friend, "'the snare is broken, and we are delivered. Our help standeth in the Name of the Lord Who bath made Heaven and Earth.'"
Then the two men grasped hands.
"Friend," said the man, whose wounds had been healed, "tell me your name, as I shall ever hold it in loving remembrance and gratitude."
"My name is Heman,"* he answered, "and yours, my friend?"
"Joezer,"† he said, "alas! I am rash, and underrate the power of the enemy. I forgot the fact which you remembered, that this enemy always aims at the knees. If he can wound the knees he is much more certain of victory, but I saw you fought kneeling, and copied your example. Praised be the King for your help and friendship, Heman."
As his fellow traveller passed from him, Heman, looking towards the Radiant City, cried triumphantly,
"Thy word is true from the beginning: and every one of Thy righteous judgments endureth for ever."
* Faithful. † Whose help is the Lord.
It was not long after this that Amer found his path diverging from that upon which the mother and her child were travelling. For though the direction was always the same for every pilgrim, each individual had her or his own separate path which they had to follow. Sometimes, therefore, it happened that friends would be parted for quite a long time and then would, to their joy, suddenly meet again.
It was with sorrow that Amer found his path diverging from that of his good friends, whose company had been so much valued by him. Iddo wept when she looked upon his retreating figure, for he had been as a brother to her. And indeed her weeping gave a little enemy called Discontent just the opportunity he wanted to worry her. For some days he got such victories over her that her mother began to look grave and sad, as she noticed that her child's shield was growing dull for the want of attention, and the sword lay too often in its scabbard.
"My child," she said, "do you really think that your King settles the path of each of his soldiers? I fear you are doubting this."
"The way seems so dull without Amer," sobbed the girl.
"It is the enemy that speaks, Iddo," said her mother, "and, if you are not careful, another more dangerous will come to the help of Discontent. Once let him get a hold on you and you will find he is a constant annoyance, and it will need all the strength you have to shake him off."
"What is his name, Mother?" asked Iddo.
"His name is Depression. He comes with tears and groans at first and you are inclined to pity him, but, if you harbour him even for a day, he begins to bind you with invisible chains till you suddenly awake to find yourself in his grip."
"Mother, has he ever worried you?"
"Yes, indeed," was her answer, "soon after your father left us for the Radiant City he came and attacked me. And it is because I know what he is that I warn you my child to fight him at once if he ever tries to get the better of you. Cry at once to the King when you catch a sight of him and draw out your sword. Never for a moment talk with him."
"What has Discontent to do with him?" asked Iddo.
"He is one of his scouts. He goes about to see how the land lies, and where he sees a favourable opportunity of Depression getting an entrance, he prepares the way for him. In fact, he is in his pay. Did you not notice how Depression had the poor wounded man in his grip? If ever he sees a man worsted in the fight, he at once joins company with him. I do not know what other enemy had wounded the man we passed, but I know that Depression was standing over him with his poisoned arrows, hoping to kill him."
"Then I must have nothing to do with him," said Iddo, "and I must pray for Amer instead of dreaming about him so much. I shall grow happy praying for him."
And Amer needed the prayers of his little friend and of her mother, for his path now led him through a very dangerous part of his journey; and what made it all the more so for him was the fact, that for the greater part of the way, some of the words of the preacher to the crowd, to whom he had listened, filled his mind.
Amer did not know that the enemy Doubt was walking invisible by his side, suggesting difficulties in the Guide Book, neither did he know that the decision to talk over some of these difficulties with the people he met was also the work of the enemy.
Being of a somewhat speculative turn of mind the matters brought forward by the preacher had interested Amer greatly, and he did not realize that to throw scorn on one part of the Guide Book was to weaken the whole, and to take away much of its helpfulness as a guide. Neither did he know that the Guide Book and sword were so connected that to doubt the one was as good as throwing away the other. He forgot the advice of the Ambassador to cling to his Guide Book, and his warning that to lose it was to lose the battle, and so to lose his soul.
Had he followed the same course as Heman, instead of listening to the opinions of men like himself and to the whispers of the enemy, he would have met him in open warfare, crying to his King all the time for help.
Afterwards, when he looked back upon this sad part of his journey, he remembered how little at this time he was really using the Book as his guide, or studying it as he did at first. His mind was full of speculative questions, and while this was the case he did not study the Book to learn from it truths which would have helped on his spiritual advancement, and have made him strong in case of attack.
His path led him across the land of Achshaph.* It was a land full of danger to the unwary, but thousands of pilgrims had passed through it unscathed, because their armour was bright and their sword in their hand. For those who asked for it, a special guard was sent to take them across; an invisible guard, but a guard that never failed to bring them in safety to the other side; but Amer, instead of a guard, had for his invisible companion the enemy Doubt, and so drew near to the land without fear or much thought.
And when he was once inside its gates, he was enchanted with what he saw.
Green fields besprinkled with flowers of every hue and scent, trees throwing their grateful shade between the hot traveller and the sun, fruit hanging from heavily laden bushes, rivers and fountains refreshing the heated air.
"The land is rightly named," he murmured, "it is indeed the land of Enchantment."
* Enchantment
The first person he met was a man of a very taking personality, who came towards him with extended hand and bright smile. Amer, forgetting that he was in the enemy's country, was only too glad to have him for a companion, specially as he had plenty to say for himself and was able to tell him much about the beauties of Achshaph and of the manners of its inhabitants. His name was Self.
"Stay," he said suddenly, as the lad was steadily making his way along the path at his feet, "stay, you look thoroughly tired and weary with your journey. Here is a mossy bank, sit down and rest awhile."
Amer looked longingly at the cool green bank, but as he hesitated he fancied he heard a voice singing the following words:—
"Soldier, rest, but not for theeSpreads the world its downy pillow,On the rock thy couch must beWhile around thee chafes the billow:Thine must be a watchful sleepWearier than another's waking,Such a watch as thou dost keepBrooks no moment of forsaking.Sleep as on the battlefield,Girded—grasping sword and shield;Those thou can'st not name nor number,Steal upon thy broken slumber."
"Soldier, rest, but not for theeSpreads the world its downy pillow,On the rock thy couch must beWhile around thee chafes the billow:Thine must be a watchful sleepWearier than another's waking,Such a watch as thou dost keepBrooks no moment of forsaking.Sleep as on the battlefield,Girded—grasping sword and shield;Those thou can'st not name nor number,Steal upon thy broken slumber."
"Soldier, rest, but not for theeSpreads the world its downy pillow,On the rock thy couch must beWhile around thee chafes the billow:Thine must be a watchful sleepWearier than another's waking,Such a watch as thou dost keepBrooks no moment of forsaking.Sleep as on the battlefield,Girded—grasping sword and shield;Those thou can'st not name nor number,Steal upon thy broken slumber."
"Soldier, rest, but not for thee
Spreads the world its downy pillow,
On the rock thy couch must be
While around thee chafes the billow:
Thine must be a watchful sleep
Wearier than another's waking,
Such a watch as thou dost keep
Brooks no moment of forsaking.
Sleep as on the battlefield,
Girded—grasping sword and shield;
Those thou can'st not name nor number,
Steal upon thy broken slumber."
With a sigh Amer continued his journey, saying,
"I fear to stay in this enchanting place longer than is necessary, and I have no time to sleep."
But Self, his companion, was not discouraged. He had heard the sigh and had noticed that the Guide Book was being held very loosely in the lad's hand, and was aware that the enemy Doubt could not be far off, for he saw his shadow on the lad's face. Self congratulated himself as he noticed this shadow, knowing full well that the presence of his friend Doubt made his victory the more sure, for the one often prepared the way for the other and were known to be friends.
"At any rate," said Self, "refresh yourself with some of the fruit of the land; you can pluck it as you walk and I assure you it will help you in your course rather than hinder, for you have but to take a mouthful or two and you will feel invigorated."
Amer turned and looked at his companion.
Certainly his face was unusually pleasant and good-natured, surely there could be little harm in following his advice. Might not this pleasant fellow be a friend rather than an enemy?
So Amer stretched out his hand and plucked a golden fruit from off the tree he was passing, and putting it to his lips he was delighted with its taste, and for the moment it seemed to give him fresh strength.
But on lifting his eyes towards the Radiant City he noticed that it was very indistinct. Moreover, though the fruit had seemed to give him a filip for a time, he had not walked far before he became conscious that his footsteps flagged.
Was it his fancy that again he heard the voice singing in the distance?
"Watch, as if on that alone,Hung the issue of the day,Pray that help may be sent down,Watch and pray."
"Watch, as if on that alone,Hung the issue of the day,Pray that help may be sent down,Watch and pray."
"Watch, as if on that alone,Hung the issue of the day,Pray that help may be sent down,Watch and pray."
"Watch, as if on that alone,
Hung the issue of the day,
Pray that help may be sent down,
Watch and pray."
But Self still walked by his side and Amer found him no dull company. They had much to say to one another and many discussions. Sometimes Amer seemed to get the better of him, at other times his companion argued so forcibly that the lad saw matters in his light and acted accordingly, and all the while the Radiant City became more and more indistinct to him; his armour which hung about him was ill kept and his sword grew rusty.
It was after having a long discussion with Self that Amer heard a cry as of pain, and on looking up a glade he saw an elderly man lying prone on the ground, having caught his foot in a root of a tree. His ankle was so sprained that he could not lift himself up, and Amer made a movement as if to go to his aid. But Self plucked him by the sleeve, saying,
"It is almost a pity that you should take the trouble to help him, he is old enough to take care of himself, and should have known better than to have tripped. You have your own business to attend to; besides while you are in Achshaph I want you to see all that is to be seen and to enjoy yourself. Listen! Do you hear that music?"
And suddenly Amer heard the most entrancing music, as down a green path, bordered with flowering shrubs, came a troop of men and maidens playing some kind of wind instrument, which made music such as the lad had never heard before.
"Sit down and listen," suggested Self, and Amer, fascinated and enthralled, obeyed, oblivious of the fact that he had wandered out of the beaten track, which had he followed would have led him to the spot where the fallen man lay, and unconscious that the Radiant City was now out of sight. Resting there under the green trees, soothed and enervated by the entrancing music, Amer almost forgot the journey to the Radiant City, the fight, the dangers of the way, and could think of little save the flowers, the fruit, the music and the beautiful inhabitants of the Land of Enchantment. And all the time that Self clamoured to be heard, filling his outward senses with dreams of delight, grim Doubt stalked invisible by his side, flinging every now and then darts into his mind.
Amer had taken off his helmet and shield, so that the darts, which we small, found easy access, and pierced him though he was scarcely conscious of them; every now and then one sharper than the others would make him start and tremble, but so enamoured was he with his surroundings that instead of rousing himself to don his armour afresh, he would turn the more readily to Self to devise some means by which to make him forget the pain they caused. He was rudely awakened by a rasping voice that he recognised at once as that belonging to Chisleu.
"What now! What now!" he exclaimed, "resting among the roses? Why, friend, you scarcely look like a pilgrim to the Radiant City. Get up with you lad, this is not your home."
"It is no business of yours what I do," said Amer at the suggestion of Temper, who had been watching the lad from a distance, and had been biding his time, and now exulted in his opportunity of worrying his former companion; "if I care to rest on my journey in the land of Achshaph, what is that to you?"
"What is it to me, Sir?" repeated Chisleu, "why it is a great deal to me. We are brothers, and I can't see my brother a prey to the enemy without doing my best to help him. You are young, and do not know the dangers of the land through which we are passing."
"I am well pleased with it for a time," said Amer, "and I beg you will leave me alone."
"That I certainly will not do," said Chisleu with some heat, "leave a brother in the hands of the enemy! That is not my way."
"What's wrong with the land?"
"What's wrong? Why, it is a death trap. I was warned before I entered it of its dangers. Pray, my lad, have you eaten any of its fruits?"
"Yes," said Amer, "and though it was delicious at the time, it leaves an uncomfortable taste in the mouth."
"Ah! just so, just so," said Chisleu, and all the time he was speaking he was perpetually looking down at his feet to make sure that his shoes were still there.
"I can do no good without my shoes," he murmured.
"But," said Amer, "I cannot think what my affairs have to do with you. And, besides, we are not all made alike, what might do you harm need not necessarily hurt me. Every man must judge for himself."
"Every man must go by the Guide Book," answered Chisleu hastily, "we are there told that we are not to lean to our own understanding. And also, young man," he added, "we are told 'Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.' You are on dangerous ground my friend."
Amer looked up at the man who was giving him such good advice. His face was red and agitated, but the lad could not but be conscious that a real concern for his welfare was the cause of his excitement. However, Amer was in no mood to listen to him, and the man's excitability and somewhat dictatorial manner irritated him; had Chisleu been calmer and less emotional he would have had far greater influence over the one he longed to help.
"I thank you, Sir, for your interest in me," said Amer coldly, "but I really feel that it is my own concern," and he rose from the ground intending to walk away, but to his vexation he found his foot was entangled, and he could not stir. Seeing that Chisleu had not perceived his difficulty, he hid the fact from him, and the man baffled in his efforts, and sorely tried at the thought of leaving this lad in such danger, walked slowly away, his kind heart full of pity.
"Ah!" he sighed to himself, "how little good I am! If it had been Heman, the boy would have listened. There I am again, telling others of their faults and failures, and all the time I am full of them myself. I am thankful, however, that it was not my shoes this time, and that Temper was disappointed, but I am sadly wanting in wisdom. Poor lad! Poor lad! But, after all, the King knows, and will send some one more worthy than I to his aid."
Directly Chisleu's back was turned Amer began to try to disentangle his foot from the long grass that seemed to have caught it, but looking closer he discovered that a very thin gold chain had wound itself around his ankle; so thin was it that Amer never doubted for a moment that he could break it. But it resisted all his efforts. There it was; a tiny line of gold glittering in the sunshine among the thick grasses.
Provoked that such a small thing should prevent him stirring, Amer looked around him in the hope of finding someone to help him. But no one was in sight. Self, laughing at his discomfiture, was not far off, but did not go to his aid. Amer began to wish then that he had taken the good advice of Chisleu, who would certainly have done all in his power to release him. The lad's sword was lying hidden in the long grass by his side, but he forgot it, and tugged and tugged away at the chain in the hope of breaking it.
At last, being very hot and tired from his efforts, he lay down again to wait the appearance of some one who might help him, and suddenly bethought him of his Guide Book.
When he took it out of his pocket he found that since last reading it several pages had gone. He remembered they had become loose while listening to the preacher to the crowd on the heath, and probably had dropped out during his journey. This distressed him not a little, and the words that met his eyes on opening the book added to his distress, as they seemed to corroborate all that Chisleu had been saying. They were these:
"'There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth is heaviness.' 'The simple believeth every word: but the prudent man looketh well to his going.'"
As poor Amer bent over his Guide Book, feeling very sad at heart and beginning to repent of his folly and sin in not obeying the commands of his King, to "'turn not to the right hand nor to the left,'" Doubt was creeping about in the long grass behind him. Feeling a presence near him, Amer turned round sharply, and at last saw the enemy who had been for a time invisible.
"Studying your Guide Book," said Doubt, "why, I thought you had nearly given that up. Don't you remember the preacher, who told you that much that you imagined to be truth is after all only fable? How do you know that the Radiant City to which the Guide Book professes to lead you is not fable too?"
"Begone," cried Amer, "you have done enough mischief already to me. Begone, I say."
"But why this sudden change of front on your part? I thought you were enjoying yourself in this place partly because you were not quite so sure of the truth of your Guide Book. You felt that if the Guide Book was not true you need not walk quite so carefully along the road, and might at least rest and enjoy yourself on the way till you had made up your mind upon the question."
"Begone," cried Amer in distress, "I will have none of you. If you come any nearer you shall taste of my sword."
"Your sword!" laughed the enemy, "It has grown rusty by this time, you would scarcely remember how to wield it. Come, now, let me sit down by your side and talk over this matter."
But by this time Amer, now thoroughly convinced of his folly in having anything whatever to do with the King's enemies, wrenched his sword from its scabbard, and rusty though it was, wielded it to such good effect that for the time Doubt fled. But with the victory over Doubt, came a terrible sense of sin and fear. If the Guide Book was the Word of the Great King, if every word of it was true, if the King knew each act of his servants and even their thoughts, which the Guide Book affirmed, in what a terrible position was Amer!
Ever since he had lingered to listen to the preacher giving out his views as to the supposed unauthenticity of the Guide Book, he had been growing more and more careless; for instead of taking his difficulties straight to the King, he had talked them over rashly with all he met. His Guide Book had lain long unread in his pocket, for the speculations into which he dived did not help him to read it in order to get at the truth, but simply made him eager to hear all men's ideas on the subject, which ideas he imbibed almost unconsciously.
This had resulted in carelessness of walk, and in his present state. It had been carelessness that had made him delay in this beautiful land, and enjoy its delights, because all the while he had had at the back of his mind the thought that possibly the Radiant City might, after all, be a dream. But now that he had put Doubt to flight, and realized his position, he felt in despair. Was the King so merciful that He would have compassion on such an erring traveller as himself? How he envied Chisleu, who notwithstanding his rashness, the mistakes he made, and his trying disposition, was evidently conscious of the love of the King, and so openly devoted to Him.
"It was just because he belonged to the King that he cares for me, and he called me his brother," said Amer to himself.
Amer dared not call to the King. He felt too far off. He could only beat upon his breast and cry, "Lord, be merciful to me a sinner." He felt helpless. His foot was beginning to swell, as in his struggle with the chain, instead of loosening it he had only dragged it tighter. Then he began to cry out loudly, "Have mercy upon me O Lord, have mercy upon me."
Suddenly, in the midst of his anguish, he looked up and saw a familiar figure advancing towards him. It was that of Heman. Amer noticed that his eyes were upraised, and that their expression was one of intense earnestness. He was looking neither to the right nor to the left, for being conscious of the dangers of the place he was obeying the King's command to the letter; "Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee." On his brow the radiance from the City of the King was resting. Amer had not seen anything to remind him of the Radiant City ever since he had parted with Belthiah and Iddo, and he now hailed the reminder with a strange feeling of home sickness.
"Heman," he cried, "Heman."
At the words Heman, who had, because of a fear of the fascination of the Land of Enchantment, been holding very close converse with his King, looked round as if awakened from a dream, and saw at his feet the lad whom he had met more than once in the way before.
"Help," cried Amer, all his pride gone, "help, friend. I am in an agony of fear lest my King will not have mercy on me. And see I am still so entangled in this Land of Enchantment—Land of Death I should call it—that I cannot move a step from it."
Then, looking towards the Radiant City and taking hold of the chain with his hand, Heman wrenched it apart and set the lad free.
"Come, my lad," he said, "come," and he began to move away at once. "We must not delay a moment in this Land. It infects those who linger within it with a sleeping sickness that once given way to is almost impossible to combat. Come lad with me and 'let thine eyes look right on and let thine eyelids look straight before thee.' Do you not see how the long grass is waving? Enemies are hiding within it ready to hurl their poisoned darts at you. You are lost if you hesitate. Hold communion with the King as you pass them and they dare not touch you."
"Ah! But have I a King now?" sighed Amer.
"Has He not said, 'Him that cometh to Me I will in nowise cast out.' Can we doubt His mercy? He who died for us."
"Since you have released me from the chain I begin to think that you may have been the answer to my cry. I cried unto the Lord to have mercy upon me."
"And He has heard your cry," said Heman.
Belthiah and Iddo passed the outskirts of the Land of Achshaph on their journey. Iddo looked curiously into the green glades of the land, and what she saw there fascinated her.
"Mother," she cried, "look at the flowers in those lanes, they are lovely. I have never seen such large ones; surely I may pluck some of them."
"You could not pick them without going out of your path, my child," said her mother, "see, your path only skirts the land. It is not the way the King has appointed you to tread."
Iddo still looked longingly at the flowers.
"It would only be a very little way out of the path," she murmured, "and it seems such a pity to pass them by."
Her mother was silent as she walked steadily forward, but Iddo lagged behind.
Only a yard or two from her path were flowers such as she had never seen or dreamt of. Their blossoms were sprinkled in rich profusion over the grass; blossoms of deep purple and red, while in the distance she caught sight of others of bright blue, which attracted her still more. Iddo hesitated a moment. There would be time to run and pick a few before her mother had turned the next corner. The temptation was strong, and suddenly the girl gave way to it. Leaving her path she ran into the green glade, and stooping down picked as many flowers as her hands could hold. Then sitting down in the grass she began to decorate herself with them, placing some in her waistband, and other blossoms in her hair.
"How pretty," sighed a voice by her side.
Iddo looked round quickly, and saw a dainty little lady standing beside her, dressed in very fine clothing.
The girl was startled, and suddenly remembered that she had wandered away from her right path; but the little creature in front of her did not look alarming, so though Iddo rose from the ground she lingered by her side. Besides, the compliment that had been paid to her was not lost upon the girl.
"These flowers are lovely," she murmured.
"But never so lovely as when they deck a pretty maiden," answered her companion, "it is a pity that the people of Achshaph cannot see you," she added.
"Are there many people in this land?" asked Iddo.
"Yes, very many, and they are happy from morning to night. But would you like to see yourself? If you come a few steps with me I will show you a lovely picture."
"Oh! I dare not," said Iddo, sorely longing all the time to go with her gay little companion, "I am afraid of losing my way."
"Losing your way? Where are you going to?"
"I am on my way to the Radiant City," said Iddo, "and I have no time to lose."
"You need not lose many minutes if you would like to see how you look. Those blue flowers suit your hair exactly; come just a few yards further;" and Iddo gave way to the temptation, and followed her guide till she came to the brink of a pool, where she was told to kneel down and take a long look. What she saw fascinated her. It was a lovely face that was reflected in the pool, so lovely that the child at once busied herself with a fresh arrangement of the flowers in her hair.
"What a pity there is no one else to see you," said her companion. Iddo stood up flushed and pleased.
"Would they like to see me, do you think?" she asked.
"To be sure they would, but they would be afraid of you if you show your armour so plainly. Why do you wear it?"
"I wear it because I am on the way to the Radiant City, and there are many enemies to fight. Are there any here?"
"No, they are all friends here. They would laugh at such a thing. You must certainly hide your sword if you want to get to know any of them."
"I don't like to take it off," said Iddo, looking down wistfully, "but really there does not seem much point in having it here; the place seems so peaceful, and if all the people are as bright and nice as you are, there can surely be no need of it. I think I can, however, hide it in the skirt of my dress."
"But, then, there is your helmet," said her companion, "you would look very queer here in a helmet, and in the rest of your armour. I have seen some of the pilgrims passing through Achshaph wearing full armour," she added, laughing, "and they looked quite ridiculous. In fact, the people of Achshaph were so amused at them that, I assure you, they did not have at all a happy time of it. They looked neither to the right nor to the left, even when the most lovely music was played on purpose to attract them. They would not pluck a single apple from the trees."
"Is there beautiful music?" asked Iddo, her eyes brightening.
"Yes, indeed, music and dancing and playing of all sorts. And as you are so very pretty, my dear, you will get the best of everything, only you know you really must not show all that armour."
"I'll tuck my sword under my dress," said Iddo, now quite bent on seeing more of Achshaph, "and I'll hide my helmet and the rest of my armour in this long grass. There will be no difficulty in finding them again, will there?"
"No difficulty whatever," said Madam Vanity, for that was her name, "and it is the only way if you want to enjoy Achshaph. They must never guess that you are a pilgrim to the Radiant City."
Iddo looked grave for a moment, and then stood listening.
"Did you hear that?" she asked.
"Hear what, my dear? I only heard the breeze in the trees."
"I thought I heard my mother's voice," said Iddo, with a little gasp, then she added, "I don't think I ought to come, and I am sure that mother would not like me to be afraid of letting people know that I am a pilgrim."
"You will be with her again very soon, and it is only just for an hour that you will play at being something else," and all the while Madam Vanity was speaking, she was making a lovely wreath for the girl's hair, and at her last words she fastened it among her tresses, and bade her look at herself once more.
"You'll be a thorough success in Achshaph," she said gaily, "come, put away those scruples and enjoy yourself," and after helping Iddo to hide away her armour in the grass, and to arrange her sword within the folds of her skirt so that it did not show, she took her hand and led the way.
And for the next few hours Iddo almost forgot that she was a pilgrim.
"This is my cousin," said Madam Vanity, and as she spoke another small person came towards Iddo with a smile. Her name was Love of Admiration, and she, like Madam Vanity, looked so small and unformidable, that it never struck Iddo that they were enemies that had prevented many a one from starting on the journey to the Radiant City, and had hindered and worried real Pilgrims with their suggestions and temptations.
Love of Admiration took her into a lovely glade where there were a number of youths and girls playing games, and no sooner were they aware of Iddo than they came round her exclaiming at her beauty, and begging her to play with them. Iddo, flushed and excited, was only too pleased to join them, and she was made so much of and admired so greatly that she was perfectly happy, and was quite unconscious of the flight of the hours. Her companions vied with one another in getting her beautiful fruit to eat, in presenting her with the rarest flowers, and in choosing her for their partner in the games.
There was one girl called Aimee, to whom Iddo took a special fancy, she was older than herself, and had a more thoughtful face than her companions. Thinking that Iddo might be shy among so many strangers, she took great notice of her, and Iddo rewarded her kindness by a wholehearted devotion. How swiftly the hours flew by the girl did not know; it seemed to her like a happy dream; and conscious of her popularity and of the admiration she attracted, she began to think herself of some importance, and contrasted herself very favourably with the other girls with whom she came into contact. The expression of her face was gradually altering, for Madam Vanity and her cousin were often at her side holding conversation with her.
During a lull in the games, Iddo found courage to tell her special friend that she was a pilgrim to the Radiant City. She was not prepared for the effect of her words. A look of disdain crossed her companion's face.
"I was told that you were," she answered, "but I would not believe it. You are quite unlike every other pilgrim I have met."
"How am I unlike them?" asked Iddo, feeling rather uncomfortable.
"The other pilgrims have worn their armour all the time they have passed through our land. But you don't seem to have any."
"Oh yes I have," exclaimed Iddo, "look, here is my sword."
"You have managed to hide it well," said her companion.
"The friend who brought me to you told me it would never do to meet you all, dressed in my armour," said Iddo.
"You were afraid of being laughed at I suppose?"
The tone of voice, full of scorn as it was, brought the colour into Iddo's face.
"I always meant to show it before I left you," she murmured. Aimee looked at Iddo with an expression that the girl did not quite understand.
"What are you thinking of?" she asked.
"I was thinking how much more I respected the pilgrims who are not ashamed of their King and their Country," said Aimee.
"Oh!" said Iddo, "I am afraid you despise me, I could not bear to think that."
"Well, my dear, don't think of it! See, the game is beginning again. Notwithstanding your lack of courage, there is something about you that I like; come, they are looking for you."
And in the pleasure of joining in the game, Iddo forgot for a time the disagreeable sensation that the look of scorn she had caught on Aimee's face, had produced in her.
It was sometime after this that the game suddenly stopped at the approach of a girl as pretty as Iddo, and with much more to say for herself, and Iddo's admirers, with a hasty apology, left her one by one and centred round the new corner.
Iddo turned red with disappointment, and sat down on the grass to watch.
"It is very unfair," whispered a voice by her side, "you are far prettier than this new girl."
Iddo, startled, looked around her, and saw a man leaning against a tree, watching the group around the new corner with fire smouldering in his eyes. He was an ugly man, and at first she so disliked the look of him that she paid no attention to his words, nevertheless her disappointment at being deserted changed at his remark to vexation.
"Every one admired and spoilt you till that girl came," the man continued, "they are very fickle."
Iddo felt this stranger was so much in sympathy with her that she looked at him again, and her face caught something of the gloomy expression that his wore.
"What shall I do?" she asked, "it is horrid sitting here all by myself, when that girl is being so courted. Please give me your advice."
"Wait and see," said the man, whose name was Jealousy, and as he spoke the crowd came dancing and laughing in her direction. One or two seeing her sitting alone made their way towards her.
"Pretend not to notice them," whispered Jealousy at her shoulder.
So Iddo turned away her face as they approached. They did not, however, at first notice her behaviour.
"Have you seen that pretty girl who has just joined us?" they asked.
"I don't think she is pretty," said Iddo, at the suggestion of the enemy.
"She is quite lovely," they returned, "and her voice is like a bird's. You should hear her sing. It is the sweetest voice we have heard for a long time."
"Her voice has no strength in it," answered Iddo.
"Well, it may not be strong, but it is as sweet as a bird's."
"I don't think so," argued the girl testily, "I heard distinctly two or three flat notes, she can't have a correct ear."
"Well you are hard to please," they said, as they turned away; while others, seeing that Jealousy was at Iddo's elbow, stayed, determined to have a little fun.
"She is going to dance," said one, "look at her gracefulness. It seems to me that whatever she attempts she does well."
"We have never had such an addition to our company," said another, "every one pales beside her."
"Look at the lovely flush on her cheeks," said a third, "surely," he added, turning to Iddo, who was sitting, miserable and angry, on the grass by the side of Jealousy, "surely you must admire her?"
"No, I don't," said Iddo, sullenly.
"How disagreeable you are," they exclaimed, laughing, "we thought you were a very different kind of girl," and as they moved away Iddo heard one of them remark:
"How that girl has disimproved. She has such a sour expression on her face, which quite spoils her beauty, and she evidently cannot bear anyone being admired but herself."
"Did you hear that?" asked Jealousy. "I think the way they are treating you is quite disgraceful."
Had Belthiah seen her little daughter at that moment she would scarcely have recognized her. Her brow was puckered with vexation, and her eyes wore a remarkable likeness in their expression to that of the enemy by her side—they were moody and sullen.
"I think I shall go away," she murmured.
"No, don't go away," answered Jealousy, "show them that you don't care. Be cold and distant to them, it will teach them how to behave."
So, when some of her playmates came near her, Iddo looked at them so coldly and disagreeably that they turned back with a shrug of their shoulders, and warned their friends to have nothing to do with her, for she was quite impossible.
So poor Iddo was left severely alone, and began to repent that she had not listened to her mother's advice. The lovely flowers which had attracted her were all beginning to fade, and she made a sorry picture with her gloomy expression of face, and the faded flowers in her hair and on her dress. Then she rose, and began to try and find Aimee. Aimee surely would not desert her like the rest of the people, for she was her chosen friend. Where could she be? Iddo had been so full of chagrin at the behaviour of the others that she had not noticed that her friend had disappeared, and now looked about her anxiously.
Suddenly she caught sight of her in deep conversation with one whom Iddo recognized at once as being a pilgrim to the Radiant City. She was walking fully armed, and Iddo noticed that behind her trotted Madam Vanity, but that the pilgrim would have nothing to say to her. Other enemies were also doing what they could to annoy her, but she perpetually pulled out her sword and they fled. Aimee was walking by her side, looking up at her with admiration, and as Iddo neared them she heard her say:
"Why are not all pilgrims to the Radiant City like you? I have just been with one who was so ashamed of being a pilgrim and a soldier, that she hid her sword within the folds of her dress."
Iddo noticed that at Aimee's words, Love of Admiration, who had been trotting by the side of Madam Vanity, peered up into the pilgrim's face trying to attract her attention, but her efforts were in vain, for the girl turned her face away as she spoke in a low voice to her companion, so low that she could not catch her words. But Aimee's remark had caused a flush of shame to rise on Iddo's cheeks, and though she dreaded to hear any more, and felt that she had no business to listen, she gave way to the temptation, and drawing nearer heard her friend say softly,
"You almost persuade me to be a pilgrim to the Radiant City." At that Iddo turned away. She could bear it no longer. If only she had been braver and had confessed her King, what might not have happened! She forgot at the moment that she had not entered Achshaph at the command of the King, and that while not travelling on the right path, it was not likely that she could do the King's work. She forgot this, and was filled with remorse at the thought that another had succeeded where she had failed. So depressed was she that she longed to get out of the Land of Enchantment as soon as she could, and began looking about for her armour. But she was not allowed to be alone. Jealousy had followed her and now came forward.
"Even your friend," he whispered, "has forsaken you."
Iddo felt vexed with his remark.
"I want to get out of this land," she said quickly, "and shall find my way better if left to myself."
"It is extraordinary that Aimee has forgotten you so soon after all her profession of friendship," whispered her companion.
Iddo did not answer, but her eyes grew angry at the thought of the girl's desertion.
"I don't suppose," added Jealousy, "if you meet her again that she will care at all for you, as she is evidently quite taken up with her new friend."
"Oh can't you leave me alone, I'm miserable enough without your talk," cried Iddo, who had forgotten by this time that she had a remedy close at hand in her sword.
"Of course," continued her companion, "you have not a chance. You will never be her friend again."
And at those words the girl flung herself on the ground and sobbed. Jealousy, because he had not been worsted at once, but had been listened to and talked to, had won his point, and had worked Iddo's feelings up to such a pitch of anger that she almost felt that she hated Aimee. How long she sat sobbing and rocking herself to and fro on the ground, her heart filled with the thoughts that Jealousy had planted there, she did not know, but at last feeling exhausted and a little frightened lest she should not find her way out of Achshaph, she rose and took to looking for her armour in earnest. It was only then that she discovered to her great distress that the flowers that now hung about her were dead, and had stained her dress with their colours. She took them angrily out of her hair and waistband and threw them away; but though the flowers were gone the stains still remained, and she wondered ruefully what her mother would say when she saw her. And from her mother her thoughts flew to her King. How she must have grieved Him, how disappointed He must be in her!
Suddenly she fell on her knees and clasped her hands, crying for forgiveness and help. And no sooner did she cry than a bright angel came to her aid, and taking her by the hand lifted her up and led her to a fountain that was close beside her, and in which she washed her dress of its stains. Then silently the angel showed her where she could again find her armour, and clad her with it, and so once more ready for her journey to the Radiant City, Iddo found herself on the right path and before long was folded in her mother's arms.