Lavengro, George Borrow [i love reading books txt] 📗

began to make the necessary preparations for passing the night beneath the oak.

Whilst thus engaged, I felt myself touched on the shoulder, and, looking round, perceived the woman, whom the stranger called Winifred, standing close to me. The moon was shining brightly upon her, and I observed that she was very good-looking, with a composed, yet cheerful expression of countenance; her dress was plain and primitive, very much resembling that of a Quaker. She held a straw bonnet in her hand. “I am glad to see thee moving about, young man,” said she, in a soft, placid tone; “I could scarcely have expected it. Thou must be wondrous strong; many, after what thou hast suffered, would not have stood on their feet for weeks and months. What do I say?⁠—Peter, my husband, who is skilled in medicine, just now told me that not one in five hundred would have survived what thou hast this day undergone; but allow me to ask thee one thing, Hast thou returned thanks to God for thy deliverance?” I made no answer, and the woman, after a pause, said: “Excuse me, young man, but do you know anything of God?” “Very little,” I replied, “but I should say He must be a wondrous strong person, if He made all those big bright things up above there, to say nothing of the ground on which we stand, which bears beings like these oaks, each of which is fifty times as strong as myself, and will live twenty times as long.” The woman was silent for some moments, and then said: “I scarcely know in what spirit thy words are uttered. If thou art serious, however, I would caution thee against supposing that the power of God is more manifested in these trees, or even in those bright stars above us, than in thyself⁠—they are things of time, but thou art a being destined to an eternity; it depends upon thyself whether thy eternity shall be one of joy or sorrow.”

Here she was interrupted by the man, who exclaimed from the other side of the tree: “Winifred, it is getting late, you had better go up to the house on the hill to inform our friends of our arrival, or they will have retired for the night.” “True,” said Winifred, and forthwith wended her way to the house in question, returning shortly with another woman, whom the man, speaking in the same language which I had heard him first use, greeted by the name of Mary; the woman replied in the same tongue, but almost immediately said, in English: “We hoped to have heard you speak tonight, Peter, but we cannot expect that now, seeing that it is so late, owing to your having been detained by the way, as Winifred tells me; nothing remains for you to do now but to sup⁠—tomorrow, with God’s will, we shall hear you.” “And tonight, also, with God’s will, provided you be so disposed. Let those of your family come hither.” “They will be hither presently,” said Mary, “for knowing that thou art arrived, they will, of course, come and bid thee welcome.” And scarcely had she spoke, when I beheld a party of people descending the moonlit side of the hill. They soon arrived at the place where we were; they might amount in all to twelve individuals. The principal person was a tall, athletic man, of about forty, dressed like a plain country farmer; this was, I soon found, the husband of Mary; the rest of the group consisted of the children of these two, and their domestic servants. One after another they all shook Peter by the hand, men and women, boys and girls, and expressed their joy at seeing him. After which, he said: “Now, friends, if you please, I will speak a few words to you.” A stool was then brought him from the cart, which he stepped on, and the people arranging themselves round him, some standing, some seated on the ground, he forthwith began to address them in a clear, distinct voice; and the subject of his discourse was the necessity, in all human beings, of a change of heart.

The preacher was better than his promise, for, instead of speaking a few words, he preached for at least three-quarters of an hour; none of the audience, however, showed the slightest symptom of weariness; on the contrary, the hope of each individual appeared to hang upon the words which proceeded from his mouth. At the conclusion of the sermon or discourse, the whole assembly again shook Peter by the hand, and returned to their house, the mistress of the family saying, as she departed: “I shall soon be back, Peter, I go but to make arrangements for the supper of thyself and company;” and, in effect, she presently returned, attended by a young woman, who bore a tray in her hands. “Set it down, Jessy,” said the mistress to the girl, “and then betake thyself to thy rest; I shall remain here for a little time to talk with my friends.” The girl departed, and the preacher and the two females placed themselves on the ground about the tray. The man gave thanks, and himself and his wife appeared to be about to eat, when the latter suddenly placed her hand upon his arm, and said something to him in a low voice, whereupon he exclaimed, “Ay, truly, we were both forgetful;” and then getting up, he came towards me, who stood a little way off, leaning against the wheel of my cart; and, taking me by the hand, he said: “Pardon us, young man, we were both so engaged in our own creature-comforts that we forgot thee, but it is not too late to repair our fault; wilt thou not join us, and taste our bread and milk?” “I cannot eat,” I replied, “but I think I could drink a little milk;” whereupon he led me to the rest, and seating me by