The Old Castle and Other Stories Part 3

there was no sign of their dear father and mother's return. She had a lingering hope that they might have been detained all night at Grasmere; but her fears were far greater. It was, indeed, a terrible situation for six little children to be left in, and her mind being advanced beyond her years, she felt all the danger. But she knew where to look for help; and He who is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, heard the cry of this forsaken child, and gave her wisdom and ability for her time of need, as truly as he gave to Solomon on the throne of Israel, long ages before.

She wound up the clock, dressed the infants, and made the older children come and say their prayers as usual. She knew that their greatest danger would be that of starvation, should the storm last long. Their mother had left plenty of milk in the house, and Agnes scalded it carefully, to prevent it turning sour. Then she examined the meal-chest, and finding there was not much in it, she put all except the babies (these were little twins) on a short allowance of porridge, but baked some flour cakes as a kind of treat. Then, as the day went on, she took courage to open the door, and with her brothers got as far as the peat-stack at the cottage side, and among them they managed to carry within doors as many peats as would keep up the fire for a week. She examined the potatoes, which were buried among withered ferns; but as there were not many, only brought in enough for a day, afraid of heat spoiling them.

Then she thought of the cow, and made her way to the byre. She milked the poor animal, but got very little from her, and had great difficulty in pulling down hay out of the loft for her to eat; besides, it was getting dark, and poor Agnes felt very frightened and unhappy. So she was thankful to get into the cottage again, and, barring the door, she put the infants comfortably to bed, and allowed the others to sit up with her until midnight, in the faint hope that some token of their dear parents not being lost might reach them before then. It was a wild night of wind and snow, and though the little watchers sometimes fancied they heard voices in the stormy blast, when the lull came, all was silence. Agnes did what she could to keep the snow from drifting in below the door or through a c.h.i.n.k of the window, and also to make sure that the fire would not go out, and then they sadly went to bed.

Next morning the snow-drifts were higher than ever! There was no possibility of going out; but the brave little mother--for so we may call her--still kept her family quiet and comfortable--never omitting the morning and evening prayers, and struggling hard against her own fears and sorrows.

At last, either on the third or fourth day, I am not sure which, the snow-drifts had changed in such a way that Agnes thought it might be possible to try the road to Grasmere. Her brothers went with her part of the way, till they saw she was safe, and then went back to the little ones, and Agnes went to the nearest cottage. When the poor weeping child told her sad story, the good people were overcome with astonishment, distress, and sympathy. The news spread like lightning through Grasmere, that Mr. and Mrs. Green had not been seen by their children since the day of the sale at Langdale. Before an hour had pa.s.sed, all the men in the parish gathered together, arranged the best plans for a search, and then dispersed over the mountains. In the state of the weather, it was a dangerous duty, and great was the anxiety of their wives and mothers left at home. The men returned at night, without any success, and this went on for several days. They willingly gave up all other work, and morning after morning set out on their toilsome, sorrowful pilgrimage, while the poor orphans, of course, were most tenderly cared for now. At length some one thought of taking sagacious dogs up the hills to help the search; and on the fifth day, about noon, a loud shout, echoed by the rocks, and repeated from one band of men to another, told the women in the valley that the bodies were found. Poor John Green lay at the foot of a precipice, over which he had fallen; his wife, whom he had wrapped in his own greatcoat, was found above. They had wandered far out of the right course, and must have died in the darkness of that first stormy night, while their children were watching for them round the fire at home.

They had been such respectable, worthy people, that their loss was greatly lamented, and rich and poor were alike desirous to help and care for the orphans. You will ask what became of Agnes afterwards. I cannot tell you. If she is alive now, she must be an old woman; but she can never have forgotten the story of her parents' death, and I trust she has never forgotten how the Father of the fatherless was then her helper and protector.

Let me point out only two lessons from this sad tale. One is, that if G.o.d be with us, we need fear no evil. Can you think of anything more dreadful than to be left shut up in the snow-storm, as these children were, with their parents dying on the wild hills above? Yet G.o.d did not forsake them. He sent no angel, he wrought no miracle for their deliverance; but he gave wisdom and courage to the little girl, in her time of sore distress and danger. And so every one of you, if you trust in Him, may be sure of finding the promise fulfilled--"As thy days, so shall thy strength be."

Another lesson is, the happiness of being loving towards one another, and obedient to those older than yourselves. Had these children been like many others, quarrelsome and unruly, what a sad difference it would have made! But they obeyed their young sister as if she had been their mother; and so the days of captivity were far less hard to bear for all.

Think of these things when you remember the story of little Agnes Green, and pray and try to be like her.