Wych Hazel Part 49

'The story is,' said Dr. Maryland, 'that he was an officer, high in trust and command, in the service of the Emperor (Diocletian.). For owning himself a Christian, he was stripped of power and place, delivered into the will of his enemies, to be bound to a tree and shot to death with arrows. There is the human defeat, my dear Hazel. What you see in the face there, is the mental victory;--some of the struggle, too.'

' "Mental victory" '--she said half to herself, considering the words. 'I ought to be equal to that. Did you mean "defeat,"

Dr. Arthur, by "the loss of all things?" '

'No,' said Dr. Arthur, 'I meant anything but that. I meant nothing worse than the exchange of a handful of soiled paper for both the hands full of solid gold.'

'Ah you all talk such riddles!' said the girl, knitting her brows. 'What would it be to me, I mean? That I should lose Chickaree?--but that is impossible.'

'It was said,' Dr. Maryland answered,--'and the Lord said it-- "Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot by my disciple." '

'Yes, sir, but--' she said quickly,--then checked herself.

'Well, my dear? My words will come best in answer to your questions, for then they can meet the very point of your difficulty.'

'You will not think me disrespectful, sir?--I was going to say, _you_ do not do that'--said Hazel, hesitating over her words.

'None of you. You have Prim and Dr. Arthur,--and Dr. Arthur comes home, and then Prim has her brother. And there is the pretty house, and books, and engravings. I don't know anything about Mr. Rollo, of course,' she said, correcting herself, 'but I mean the rest of you.'

'May we sit down?' said Dr. Maryland, 'Dane and I have walked up from Mr. Falkirk's. Unless Dane likes to stand to accommodate the cat!' said the doctor with a humourous glance at the shoulder where p.u.s.s.y sat with shut eyes, purring contentedly. 'It's a fair question, Hazel; and an easy mistake. But my dear, so far as I know, Prim and Arthur and I have not kept anything. For myself,' said Dr. Maryland, lifting up a bright face, 'all that I have is my Master's. I am not the owner even of myself. So long as his service bids me use the things entrusted to me in the way I am doing, I will use them so. And whenever his honour, or his work, calls me to give up anything or everything of all these--my home, my children, or my own life--I am ready; it is the Lord's now; he shall do with them all what he will. Do you understand?'

'And Arthur and I would say the same,' added Primrose.

Her brother answered in the words so long age written, so many times lived out. ' "Not a myself--but Christ; not a my will--but Christ. Not a mine ease, or my profit, or my pleasure, but Christ." '

The girl looked from one to the other, as each spoke, with a flash of sympathy; even as thoughts stir and kindle at the sound of a bugle call, while yet they know not what it says.

But then she turned suddenly round and looked at Rollo. An expectant look, that waited for him to speak,--that gathered--or he fancied so--a shade of disappointment as it turned away again to the face on the wall. She sat silent, leaning her chin upon her hands. His look had been perfectly grave, thoughtful and quiet; but otherwise did not reveal itself.

There was a general silence. Then Dr. Maryland said,

'Do you understand the paradox, my dear?'

'I think I must be the paradox myself,' Hazel answered with a half laugh. 'I could do that--I could bear the arrows: I think I could. But you never saw anybody, sir, that liked giving up-- anything--less than I do.'

'You would rather bear the arrows than the cords,' said Dr.

Arthur Maryland. 'It is easier.'

'Depends on the people,' said Primrose.

' "As having nothing, and yet possessing all things," ' Dr.

Maryland added rather dreamily.

'I suppose,' said Rollo, with a moment's deep look into Wych Hazel's eyes, 'the free spirit is beyond bonds.'

'That is it, my boy!' exclaimed Dr. Maryland. 'Think--when Paul and Silas were in the dungeon at Philippi--a dreary place, most likely; and they, beaten and bleeding and sore, stretched and confined in the wooden frame which I suppose left them not one moment's ease,--at midnight it was, they fell to such singing and praising that the other prisoners waked up and listened to hear the song.'

Hazel crossed her slender wrists and sat looking at them, imagining the bonds.

'Do you think it is all _in me?_' she said, with another sudden appeal to Rollo.

Rollo was not a man fond of wearing his heart upon his sleeve.

Another momentary glance went through her eyes, as it were, and was withdrawn, before he gave a short, grave 'yes.' Hazel went back to her musings without another word, and only the least bit of a triumphant curl about the corners of her mouth.

'I wonder how it would feel?' she said, crossing and uncrossing her hands.

'What?' said Primrose.

'Bonds--and chains,' said the girl, clasping her wrist tight.

'To have my hands tied!'

'You are not called upon to find out, my dear,' said Dr.

Maryland; 'that is not required of you. But remember, Hazel, no bonds are heavy but love wears.'

'Depends upon how they get on, sir,' she said, quickly.

'What?' said the doctor, with a somewhat comic twinkle coming into his eye. 'How is that?'

'I hate bonds, Dr. Maryland!--from the very bottom of my heart.'

'You have never worn the sort I spoke of, my dear,' he said, smiling. 'I never heard anybody complain of them.'

'What sort?' said Hazel. 'Bonds are bonds.'

'But love likes her bonds,' said the doctor.

The girl shook her head. 'She likes her way, sir! in my case.

When Mr. Falkirk forbids me to--well, no matter what,--to do something,' she said, dropping her eyes, 'I do suppose I obey better than if I didn't love him. But I hate it all the same.

It makes me feel--like my name,' she added with a laugh.

'Love likes her bonds,' the doctor repeated, shaking his head.

'And the arrow that is weighted flies freest against the wind,' Rollo remarked.

'What do you mean by that?' said Primrose. 'Duke, you look very funny with that cat upon your shoulder.'

'p.u.s.s.y likes it,' said Rollo.

'Dane, have you finished your business with Hazel?' said Dr.

Maryland. 'I must be going presently.'

'Well, sir,--if Prim and Arthur will excuse me.'

He brought himself, p.u.s.s.y cat and all, to a chair by Wych Hazel's side. The others drew off a little.

'I am going away,' he said. 'Business takes me to New York for a week or two. Possibly to Chicago; but I hope not. I hope to bring your horses back with me. Do you want to give me any directions respecting them?'

'Directions?--I think not. O yes!' said Hazel, touching her fingers to the cat's head and instantly withdrawing them,--'I want my pony to be very fast. Because----' but there she stopped.

'Well?' said he.

'That is all.'