Bright Arrows

  "Oh, so much!" she said. "It seemed as if he had been listening to some of my thoughts and worries and knew just how to answer them. He really told me how to get ready for something I very much dread, and now I'll go home and make my arrows bright for what is ahead tomorrow night."

  "Oh," said Lorrimer, thinking what a quick young mind and what a willing heart this was, "are you having a battle tomorrow night?"

  "I'm afraid so," sighed Eden. "Oh, it's nothing, I suppose, but it rather frightens me to think that I may not say the right thing. He said the sword of the Spirit was the Word of God, and I'm afraid I don't know the Word as well as I should to use it as a weapon."

  "I see," said the young man appreciatively. "Of course, that is the advantage of the Spirit-guided study of the Bible. But if you are Spirit led, He will show you what to say."

  "But, I am such a new sort of Christian, do you think I could be guided definitely?"

  "You certainly can, definitely," said the young man earnestly. "You have given yourself into His keeping. You can trust Him utterly. I know, for I have tried it. You tried it, too, just the other day. If you can trust Him with little trifles, can you not trust Him with the great things of life? If you cannot, then He is not a Savior. He has promised if you died with Him, you can have that resurrection life that He brought you when He rose from the dead."

  Eden looked up into his eyes, and a great joy came into her face.

  "Oh," she said. "Yes, I can trust Him. Thank you."

  They went out to the car then and did not talk any more about it till he took her home. Then just as he said good night he added in a low tone: "And I'll be praying for you."

  She felt suddenly happy then. Her prayers might be crude and very new before the great God, even if He did love her, but his prayers would reach the throne. He was used to praying for things and getting them.

  Janet came hurrying from the telephone to meet her.

  "It was that little r-r-rat on the wire," she said, "him as was here before. He wanted tae ken, was ya hame yet, an' whan did I expect ye. I said I dinna ken yer business, an' he said, 'Tell her I'll be there bright an' early t'morra night.' "

  "Yes," sighed Eden uncertainly, "he's coming again, Janet. I had to say yes. He said he wanted to apologize. But you needn't worry. I'm not going anywhere with him."

  "He's nae fit ye tae wipe yer pretty feet on," said Janet fiercely.

  "That's all right, Janet. I didn't like his actions any better than you did. But I have to be courteous even if he wasn't. I have to accept his apology. But there I stop."

  "Boot he'll try his verra best tae get in wi' ye agin, an' be the same ol' frind. He has a way wi' him. He'll make ye feel he's better than he is. He'll tell ye it's yer dooty tae be his frind."

  "No, Janet, he'll not do that. Not this time. I think I've learned my lesson. I know what he is. I must see him tomorrow night, but after that he's just a boy I used to know when we were children. That's all!"

  Janet looked after her sorrowfully as she started up the stairs, and she brushed a glittering tear away from her eyes as Eden threw her a lovely smile.

  "Weel, I'm sure I hoop yer richt!" she said with a doubtful sigh and turned away quickly to hide her emotions.

  Chapter 11

  Caspar Carvel lunged in, in much the same way he had always done in the years gone by, much as if the house were his own old home and he had a right there. As if there were nothing special due for the privilege of coming. One would never have known from the quality of his regular old-time grin that he had come to apologize for anything. And Eden, whose quick eyes had noted this at once, felt her former anger rising, because she could not seem to forget the insolent words he had spoken. But she had spent time on her knees with her Bible open before her and had definitely put the matter in her new Master's hands. She felt assured that He would make it plain how she was to deal with this.

  "Hi there, beautiful!" he began. "At last my perseverance is rewarded by your worthy presence! You certainly have taken on an air of discipline and distance. What's the little old idea, anyway, lovely?"

  Eden did not respond to this garrulous opening of the interview. Instead, she went quietly, sweetly about the duties of a hostess, utterly ignoring his question.

  "Good evening!" she said coolly as if it were a stranger she was greeting. "Won't you sit down?" She motioned toward a straight chair and went herself toward another at a little distance.

  Caspar stood surveying her, a mask of puzzlement on his brow. So, she really must have been angry at what he had said on his last visit. But he slid down on the chair she had indicated and turned to her a puzzled, grieved expression as if he did not understand.

  "But what's the little old idea, Eden," he complained. "Why the frigidity?"

  "I beg your pardon, Caspar. I understood you came here to make an apology for your remarks the last time you were here."

  "Oh, that! Why, baby! You're not mad yet, are you? You knew I didn't mean what I said."

  "It certainly sounded as if you meant it," said Eden quietly, with sweet dignity.

  "Aw, now, baby! Don't get that way! You ought to know me better than that. You know I'm awfully fond of you. I wouldn't hurt you for the world. I just took it for granted that you had grown up to the times and would understand. Why, excuse me, baby, but you don't seem to have changed at all. I suppose your father's sickness has kept you cooped up away from the world. You don't seem to know times have changed."

  "I certainly realize that you have changed," said Eden, still speaking quietly and with gentle dignity.

  "But, there, Eden," said the young man, "wake up and be yourself. You certainly can't think you're being attractive carrying on a line like that."

  "I was not trying to be attractive," she said, "but I am wondering if this is your idea of an apology?"

  The young man put on another act of hurt dignity.

  "Apology? Oh! Why, yes, sure I said I would apologize if that is what you want. I sure want to make it right between us old friends, and come here the way I used to do. I shall be mustering out pretty soon, and I want to get things on a friendly plane again. Sure!" And he suddenly sprang to his feet and putting his hand on his stomach made a low abject bow. "So, I most humbly apologize."

  Eden watched him a moment as he slowly raised his head and gave her an assured smile as if he felt he had done a good job of apology. Then she said gravely: "Sit down, Caspar, and listen to me. You haven't made an apology at all. You don't even think you have done anything to apologize for. You are not sorry for what you said, you know you are not. And as for things being on the friendly plane, I am quite sure that can never be."

  "But what did I do? Tell me, kiddo! I really don't understand."

  But Eden looked steadily at him.

  "Yes, you understand, Caspar. You spoke of my father in an outrageous way, and you spoke of my God in a terrible way."

  "Oh, well, kid, I supposed, of course, you'd understand I wasn't saying anything dreadful about your father. He was just an old man, rather behind the times of course, but nothing to his discredit. You see, I didn't really intend any discourtesy to him. And as for the other matter, Eden, you don't really mean to tell me you still believe in all that sentiment about God. Why, simply nobody believes that anymore."

  "I do!" said Eden firmly. "And I resent any word said against my God and my Christ. You see, I know Him. He is not only my Savior, but He is my Friend and Guide. And it is to Him you will have to apologize if you want to be my friend."

  "Great day!" said the affected youth. "Is it that bad with you? Why, you're crazy, Eden."

  "You're worse than crazy, Caspar. I'm very much afraid you are lost. The Bible says: 'For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God.' "

  The young man stared.

  "Who put you up to saying a thing like that?" he asked with a sneer. "That's terrific!"

  "Nobody put me up to saying anything. I asked
God to show me what to say to you, and this is the verse He directed my attention to. Of course, I had read it before, but I felt you ought to know it was there and that God understands all about you."

  Caspar stared again, and then with an impatient gesture he said testily: "I didn't know you were also superstitious as well as behind the times, but don't let's talk any more about this. We'll never agree; I can see that. Perhaps when you have lived a little longer and been out in the real world awhile you'll change your ideas. However, I can stand it, if you'll just keep it to yourself. You'll get over this fad, of course, and I'll do my best to help you. Let's change the subject. How would you like me to tell you about some of my thrilling experiences? As a rule I don't care to talk them over with these newsmongers that come around us vets, but you are different. You've known me all my life, and you'll understand."

  Eden sat looking at him gravely.

  "Very well," she said. "Go on."

  Almost sullenly, but very pompously he began his story.

  It was a thrilling story, there was no mistake about that, and he told it well, except that he did not omit to mention his own courageous part in glowing terms, so glowing that Eden found herself constantly wondering if he were telling the whole truth and whether some of the great acts of prowess and courage should not be ascribed to the credit of some of the others of his regiment; but she put the thought aside and listened, watching her old friend and studying his handsome, weak face, noting for the first time the arrogance of his chin, the shiftiness of his glance. Did his eyes always look so sort of sly, his mouth have that crafty twist, even when he smiled, or had he acquired that during his absence in service?

  But at last he seemed to come to the end of his tale. He looked at her proudly, ready to receive her praise. This really was what he had come for the first time he called on her. He wanted her flattery, her exclamations of wonder and delight in his bravery, and she had not once interrupted him. He looked up now to receive his due.

  Then he found he was looking into an extended silence and that instead of praising his courage she was merely watching him sadly, studying him, as one would look with troubled gaze at something that used to be of value but had somehow become ruined. At last, just as he was growing very uneasy and almost impatient, she spoke:

  "And do you mean to tell me, Caspar, that you went through all that terror and awfulness without once calling on God or wanting His help?"

  "Help!" screamed Caspar scornfully. "Why should I want help? I had to be my own help. I was trained, wasn't I, to fly and shoot, and to work all the tricks we were supposed to work on the enemy? It was up to me, not God. I didn't need any help but myself, and why should I cry out to a God I didn't believe in? When I first went into the army, I was thrown with a lot of fellows who were outstanding guys. They didn't believe in God. They said it was sissy to believe in such things. When you went into danger, you were up against danger yourself and had to make your own way out of it. To tell you the truth, if I had called on anybody for help, I would more likely have called on the devil for help than God. If there was a God who could have helped me, why did He let me get into such awful straits, I ask you?"

  "Perhaps to show you how much you needed Him. Perhaps to make you turn to Him. You once chose God to be your Guide and Helper."

  "Oh, well, I got over all that nonsense long ago."

  "You mean, you are serving the devil now?" asked Eden.

  "Perhaps," he answered with a grin, "but forget it. The war is over, and I've got a good line on a successful job for myself where I can get rich quick, and we could get married; and if you'd promise to quit preaching, you and I could have a swell life, going out among 'em and making up for all the dull life you've lived so far. You'd be surprised how happy I could make you if you'd just give up this line and be a bit lighthearted. Of course, not just now, so soon after a funeral in the family. But by the time I'm out of the army and back home and well into my job, I want you to be ready when I call."

  Eden did not smile. She only looked at him sadly.

  "No, Caspar," she said solemnly. "I have no desire for a life like that. And I could never marry you, knowing how you feel about my Lord and the things of life that are the most precious to me. And anyway, Caspar, there is more to marriage than just having a swell time. I do not love you and have no desire to marry you. I am only sorry that you have lost the faith I used to think you had, and I shall pray that God will sometime draw you back to Him. But that is all. You and I do not belong together anymore, even as friends, since you have turned away from all that I hold most dear."

  A thundercloud settled down over the weak, handsome face and made him look more than ever like a frustrated, naughty boy. At last he spoke:

  "What does this mean, Eden? Is there some other guy you've been going around with since I went away? Somebody you think you are engaged to? Because if there is, I'll kill him. I swear I will. I've always considered that you belonged to me, and always would, and you can't cheat me out of my rights. I won't stand for it."

  Eden's face suddenly froze into haughtiness.

  "That is no way for you to talk to me, Caspar," she said in her coldest voice. "I have never belonged to you in any way, and you know it. Our friendship was only a childish one; we were just playmates, even when I thought you were a good man. And now that you so evidently are serving the devil, I don't feel that I care to see you again. It would not be even pleasant anymore."

  "You mean that you are engaged to someone else? Some sissy of a guy who didn't have the nerve to go to war? Who is he? I'll go out and find him and make him understand you belong to me. What's his name? I demand to know it."

  Eden was very quiet and steady as she answered.

  "I'm not engaged to anybody, Caspar, and I have not been running around with anybody. I haven't had time. But I see no reason why it should be anything to you if I did. And now I think we have talked enough, and I wish you would go. I don't like the Caspar you have become. Good-bye!"

  Eden turned to go out of the room, but Caspar hurried to intercept her before she reached the door.

  "Aw, ferget it, Eden. Don't go off that way again. This is ridiculous! You never useta be like this!"

  "Neither did you, Caspar. You have gone back on all that means life to me, and I can't be friends with you anymore. Good-bye." And Eden went and stood by the front door to show him out.

  The young man stood miserable with downcast eyes, which he lifted only to look her over--the slim, charming figure, the lovely eyes that had so often smiled at him, the pretty hands clasped so determinedly as he had so often seen them for some mutual scheme of theirs as children--and Caspar was wondering how he came to forget how swell she was and why he hadn't been writing to her all these months. That would have fixed her as his, and she wouldn't have been so likely to get all these antique religious ideas.

  "Eden!" he pleaded. "At least you'll kiss me good-bye!" And he made as if to come nearer, but Eden backed away.

  "No!" she cried. "Please go away!"

  And then a stern old Scotch voice was heard behind them: Janet coming as fast as her feet could carry her in spite of arthritis that troubled her now and again.

  "Did ye call me, my leddy? I'm coomin'."

  "Yes, Janet," said Eden sweetly. "Please open the door for Mr. Carvel. He has to leave!" And Eden vanished up the stairs, leaving Caspar Carvel to make a dejected way out of the house, evicted for the second time from the place where he had supposed he would always be welcome.

  Then Eden went up to her room and flung herself down on her knees with her face in the pillow and cried to her new Lord.

  "Oh, Lord, I didn't listen for Thy leading. I let my own anger rise, and I said angry things that were in my heart instead of following Thy Spirit. Oh, forgive me! I should have said something that would make him understand how wonderful You are, and I didn't in the least convince him, I'm sure. Oh, Lord, please take over, and somehow bring him to a place where he will understand."

 
Just then her telephone rang, and much distraught, with tears on her cheeks, Eden jumped up and answered it.

  "Yes?" she said, struggling to steady her perturbed voice. And then she recognized Caspar's voice.

  "Oh!" she said. "Oh!" remembering she must follow the leading from above.

  "Eden," almost humbly, "I'm sorry I made you angry again. I really didn't mean to, and I apologize. But I want to ask you to promise me one thing: promise me that you'll never get engaged to anyone else without letting me know right away. I might change again and get to be what you want, but it wouldn't be fair to me to string me along for years thinking I was doing it for you and then have you stand me up afterward."

  Eden was very still for a minute for she could feel her anger rising, but this was where she must hand herself over to her Guide. A moment more and her voice was steady, clear, and she knew just what to say:

  "Caspar, there is just one thing I'll promise you, and I will not promise anything else. I promise to pray for you, that you may somehow get to know God. Good night."

  Then she hung up, and Caspar, angry and chastened in spirit, went on his devious way back to the world that had led him away from the path where he had started.

  And Eden went back to her prayers and wondered if a prayer uttered from an angry heart could ever help to bring Caspar back to the right way. Then she wondered if he had ever been in the right way at all and whether perhaps her beloved father had seen this. Perhaps that had been one of the reasons why he planned trips to take her away from this boy's companionship.

  She saw now what Caspar had become, as she might have seen before if she had not been so interested in having the good times with him that he seemed always able to plan. She saw it now and was thankful that God had made it plain to her before she was led into a return of the friendship that might have been a real danger to her. For now as she thought things over calmly, perhaps with the enlightenment of the inward Guide, she realized that she had been looking forward greatly to the return of her old-time playmate. Now she knew that he could never be her old-time friend again. Even if he should change as he suggested, she had lost the sense that he was fine and wonderful, which she had when he went away. But it did make her heart a little sore to look at the fact in the face and see that she had no old friend to cherish. He was gone out of her life and could never come back. She would pray for him, yes, but she would leave him in God's hands. It would perhaps not be a prayer of much faith, for Caspar had proved to her tonight more than ever that there was not much there to build any hope upon, and it would be only God who could ever make anything of Caspar Carvel. Perhaps He could. Of course He could, for He was all powerful, but she was sure no words of hers ever could.