Skipper Worse Part 26

He lay in bed all that day, suffering much. The next day his head, at least, was clear, but the pains in his stomach troubled him, and he found it best to remain lying down.

From time to time Sarah visited his room, and he begged her piteously to come and sit by him; for when he was alone, he was troubled by many evil and dismal thoughts.

She seated herself by the window, with some small books--like her mother, she had also taken to small books.

"I suppose you will repent, and seek forgiveness for your sins, Worse; or will you persist in putting it off?"

"No, no, dear. You know how gladly I would repent. But you must help me, Sarah; for I know not what to do."

"Well, I will begin by reading to you from an excellent book on nine important points, which should arouse us to a feeling of our sinfulness, and lead us to repentance and amendment. Listen to me, not only with your ears, but with your stubborn heart, and may a blessing accompany the words."

Upon this she read slowly and impressively: "'The mercy of G.o.d first leads us to repentance; as the Apostle says (Rom. ii. 4), "The goodness of G.o.d leadeth thee to repentance."

"'Secondly, the Word of G.o.d clearly points to contrition. As the prophets of old were sent, even so preachers and other means of grace are now sent to us, daily sounding forth His Word as with a trumpet, and arousing us to repentance.

"'We should take heed to the judgments which, ever since the beginning of the world, have fallen upon hardened sinners; for example, floods, tempests, thunder and lightning in the heavens above, and destructive earthquakes from underneath our feet.'"

"Lisbon," muttered Worse. He had a picture of the great earthquake over the sofa in the sitting-room.

"'The fourth is the vast mult.i.tude of our sins which we committed when we lived in wantonness, drink, gluttony, and G.o.dlessness.

"'The fifth is the shortness of life, calling us to repentance; for our life pa.s.ses quickly away, and we spend our years as a tale that is told.

"'The sixth is the small number of the saved; for strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, and few there be that enter therein.

"'For the seventh, death threatens us, and is a terror to the flesh.

Its antic.i.p.ation is bitter to all who are sunk in worldly pleasures.'"

Worse turned uneasily in his bed, as if he would interrupt her; but she continued--

"'We should, therefore, think of the day of judgment, which "will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pa.s.s away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up."

"'But the ninth and last is the pains of h.e.l.l, which are insupportable.

"'Scripture gives a terrible description of the state of the condemned in everlasting flames, "where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched."'"

"Don't you think you could find something else to read, Sarah?" said Worse, anxiously.

"'The days of h.e.l.l will never end,'" she continued. "'When as many years have pa.s.sed and gone as there are beings in the world and stars in the firmament, when as many thousand years have pa.s.sed as there are grains of sand in the bottom of the sea, there will yet be a million times as many more to come.

"'Those who do not take this to heart will hereafter suffer for it.

All drunkards and scoffers, as well as those who make their belly their G.o.d, those who are slaves to their pa.s.sions, and all unbelievers, will then be revealed before the judgment-throne.

"'The devil will stand on one side to accuse them, and their own consciences on the other to condemn them, and down below the gates of h.e.l.l will stand open to swallow them.'"

"Sarah, Sarah! read no more!" cried Worse.

But she continued to read, and the words cut like a knife. The wrath of G.o.d, the flames of h.e.l.l, and the never-ending sufferings of the d.a.m.ned were depicted in clear and terrible language.

"Sarah! for G.o.d's sake, stop!" shrieked Worse, sitting upright. The perspiration flowed down his cheeks, and he trembled so that the bed shook.

She fixed a stern eye upon him, and said, "I wonder if you have yet placed yourself in the hands of the living G.o.d?"

"Sarah, Sarah! What shall I do?"

"Pray," she answered, and left the room.

He lay and writhed with pain and fear, and when he heard her in the next room, called to her, begging her to have pity on him.

At last she came in again.

"Sarah, why are you so harsh with me? You were never so before."

"I never before dealt with you in the right way."

"Do you suppose that _this_ is the right way?"

"I hope so."

"Well, you know best; but you must help me, Sarah. Do not leave me now!" And he clutched her hand with the grasp of a drowning man.

Some days after he was allowed to get up, and he followed her about the house; for he was uneasy when she left the room.

At times he sat in a corner with a good book in his hands not so much for the purpose of reading as for a protection against the a.s.saults of Satan.

The fact was, that he now for the first time began to fancy that Satan was everywhere in pursuit of him.

When Sarah had succeeded in frightening him away from her, she became a little less severe, and it was only when he became troublesome that she talked or read in such a manner as almost to drive him out of his senses.

She herself went about in the deepest gloom all this time. She could neither pray nor sing, and at the meetings she heard, but gave no heed.

The one second she had been in Hans Nilsen's arms had suddenly revealed to her the deceit which had been practiced upon her. Her youth, her warm, unbounded affection for this man, had been repressed and crushed by religious exhortations, hymns, texts, and formalities.

But after all, they were only words which she now cast aside with contempt. Faith and hope had left her; and as to love, she knew that she loved one man only, and loved him to desperation.

Whilst Fennefos was away, she was in a state of fever. When he returned, he left her mother's house and moved up to the Haugian farm.

It was near the town, and Sarah, who rarely went beyond the neighbouring streets, now began to take long walks into the outskirts.

She would stand behind a boulder or a hedge, and would watch him while he laboured in the field. When she could not discover him, she would seat herself on a rock and gaze in all directions, or she would pick a flower and examine it, as if it were something new and rare.

She watched him at the meetings; but he never spoke to her, nor did he ever turn his eyes in the direction where she was sitting.

No one observed anything peculiar about her; but as regarded Fennefos, the friends thought that a great change had come over him.

The highly wrought austerity of manner with which he had begun had now left him; indeed, there was something almost humble in his demeanour.