Christie, the King's Servant / A Sequel to Christie's Old Organ""

air was wonderfully clear. My portrait of little Jack sitting in the boat promised to

lad would figure in the Roy

lest he should ask me again that terrible question which had been ringing in my ears ever since. Even as I talked to him about my picture, and even as he answered in pleasant a

are not troublesom

w,' I went on, 'he took me into your study the other day? I am afraid I was taking a great l

nswered. 'Yes, Jack is nearly a

me that a man of his years should care for what

wonder that I love it. I owe all I am in this world, all I hope to be in the world to come, to that poor

said; 'the soon

very pleased to see you, and the bairns will be in bed, an

somewhat heavily on my hands. Polly, I think, was not sorry when she heard I was going out, for Duncan was away i

upper table was covered with a snowy cloth, and a dainty little meal was laid out with the greatest taste and care, whilst in the centre was a china bowl, containing the leaves of the creeper which covered the house, interspersed with yellow bracken and other beautiful leaves, in every varied shade of their autu

e words of that question which had so troubled me all day long. He did not mention the object for which I had come whilst the meal was going on. We talked of Runswick Bay and its su

e had placed for me by the fire, my eye fell upon a photograph which was hanging in a frame close to the fireplace. I started from my seat and looked at it. Surely I could not be mistake

get that?' I cried. 'Why,

ast night, after all my recollection of my mother's words to me, and her prayers for me-after all this, to see her dear eye

t that my host was almost

not! Do you mean to tell me,' he said, laying h

is,' I said; '

You will never guess. It is Jack Villiers, the little Jack you and I used to know so well. Why, do you know,' he said, 'our

lighted to explain where and how he had known me; but after a time, when we had rec

h no one to love him or to care for him. But I made friends with an

rel-organ

a child. When he was too ill to take it out himself, I t

arried the

d to run to her nursery window as soon as she heard me begin to play. I let her turn the organ o

ften heard her sing it; she sang

new the way to that home, and she soon found out that I knew nothing about it. "You can't go to heaven if y

d I was determined to find out the

y to be saved. I attended a mission service, and I learnt first that no sin can enter the gates of the He

rning and evening, ever since. She gave me a bunch of snowdrops, tied up with dark green le

s, and gazed into the fire; the memory o

I said, for I lo

master, and she was pleased to see the snowdrops. She told me that day, tha

lowing her mother to the same place. Then after that she went abroad, but she did not forget the poor organ boy. She told her father about me, and he sent money for my edu

r many years, not until she was married t

gone there to visit a sick woman, and as I went in she was reading to her from the very Testament out of wh

other who made our little home bright and pretty for us, and who was t

you to see us, and Nellie used often to say you wer

emember it

London for a parish in the country, and soon after came the news of his death, and only a year o

, but we did not even know her name. We tried to find out more, but we knew n

uld have been brought h

said reverently; 'it

head on my arm as I stood against the m

d me as tenderly as my mother could have done, and said, 'What

of her; I love to hear of her; everything

said; 'what trou

her again,' I said; 'I know I shall not.

and go her way, Jack

nce I heard you talk of it. I could not sleep last night for thinking of it. "What are the depths, the fearful depths, to which you

they are the voice of the Spirit of God. But listen to-night to the One who is

I could,

do it, Jack,' he said firmly,

leave th

very instan

t? I don't know how

way you want to be drawn, God-ward, Christ-ward, heaven-ward, or to the fearful depths of which I spoke. God is drawing you very strongly now, bu

d, 'I will th

sire to cross the line has coole

ou another day, later on in the w

ll send for thee," but Felix never did send; he never cros

orrow. It's late now, and

r His voice, harden not your hearts. Behold, now i

w I can com

to go. It is only a step. He stands in this room close to you. He holds out His arms to you. He does not

I said earnestl

in the first chapter of St. John, 'He brought him to Jesus,' I think of that night. I do not think that Peter and Andrew fel

e we rose from our knees, I crossed the line, and I was able henceforth to take my place amongst the glad,