their heads,and Mr Morgan, and Jones, the under-viewer, had a deal of trouble with'em; then Mr Morgan thought the water might have gone down, and onFriday he went in and tried for a bit to wade through, but it was toodeep, and he did not know the mine. Jones would have tried after him,but then we was let h'out. No, I doesn't remember that part. I knowsnothing until I felt Nan kiss me, and I thought 'twas Stephie, and thatI was in heaven."
All the time during David's slow recovery, one person nursed him day andnight--one person, with hardly any intermission, remained by hisbedside; this was Owen. And no hand so soothed the sick and weary man,no face brought so peaceful a smile into his eyes, as the hand and faceof Owen. As David grew better they had long talks together, but I neverheard what they said.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have one thing more to write here.
Three weeks after the accident, on an afternoon soft with west wind, andglowing with May beauty, I went to visit little David's grave. They hadlaid him in a very old churchyard, and the tiny grave faced the RhodaVale, and could be seen with its companion graves, from the bank of theFfynon mine below. I had brought some flowers to plant there. Havingcompleted my task, I sat, for a few moments, by the side of the littlemound to rest. As I sat there, I saw a man walking quickly along thehigh road. He mounted the stile and ascended the steep path which ledto the graveyard. As I watched him, my heart beat loud and audibly--forthis man was Owen. He was coming to visit little David's grave. He hadprobably never seen it yet. Still I would not go away. I had somethingto say to Owen, I could say it best here. He came up, saw me, startedfor a moment, then seated himself by my side.
"Gwladys, this is a fit place for us to meet. I have something to sayto you."
His words, look, manner, put any speech of my own out of my head. Iturned to watch him.
"There is such a thing, Gwladys, as being guilty even of this--blood-guiltiness--and yet being washed white."
Silence on my part. He laid his hand on the little grave, andcontinued--
"David, who never told a lie in his life, says he is glad; that if onlythe death of his child could bring me to his God, he is glad--glad evenat that price." A long pause. "I have found his God. Even by so darka path as my own sin, I have been led to his God and Saviour."
Owen pressed his head on his hands. I saw two heavy tears drop betweenhis fingers.
"You will never know, Gwladys, what the finding of God out of so awful astorm of sin and suffering is like. I looked for Him down in the mine.With every stroke of my mandril, my heart cried, `Punish me as you will.I do not care what punishment you lay upon me. My life itself isvalueless. Only let me find Thee.' But I could not find Him. As Iwent further and further into the mine, I seemed getting further andfurther away from Him; my sins were between Him and me. I could not geta glimpse of Him. I was in despair. I worked with the strength ofdespair. It was no true courage prompted me to go back, when the othermen faltered. My life was valueless to me. Then, as you know, webrought the men out. I went to David. I _was_ glad that he was saved;but my heart was as heavy as ever. I used to sit up at night and fancymyself drifting further and further from God. My whole past life wasbefore me, and it seemed hateful. Not only the wild, reckless days atOxford, but the months that had seemed so righteous and proper here.One evening I said to David--
"`David, can you forgive me?'
"`Ay, lad,' he answered, instantly, `and so can thy God.'
"`No, that He can't,' I said. `He never can forgive the death of thebaby.'
"`You wrong Him, lad,' continued my brother. `He took the baby away inlove. He knew your eyes were shut, and a great shock must open them.Surely, Owen, if the only way He could bring you to His arms was to takethe baby first, _that_ won't turn Him away now. We must go throughdeath to Him sometimes--the death of another, if not our own.'
"`And _you_ are willing to give up your child for that?'
"`Willing and glad, if by so doing you may find Christ.'
"`David, how you have worked and suffered for me.'"
"But not in vain," said David, with a radiant smile.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"No, Gwladys, it was not in vain; the brother's love was not in vain;the death of the Son of Man was not in vain. _I have found God_. Thereis to be a coroner's inquest; things may go hard with me, for I havebeen much to blame; but I shall tell the whole story. If I am allowed,I shall remain at Ffynon; but wherever I am, I mean to devote my life--my whole life--all my time and all my energy, to the great cause of theminers; to the lessening of their many dangers; to the furthering oftheir well-being. This is my life-work; I promise to devote my life tothe miners of Wales, here, by this little grave."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Owen, before we leave this spot, I have something to say to you."
"What is that? my dear."
"I want you to forgive me."
"For what?"
"Do you not know--can you not guess? I shut my heart against you; Igave you no true sister's welcome when you came home."
"I thought you changed; I was disappointed. Had you ceased to love me?"
"No, no; never that. But I had dreamt so of you--I thought you perfect.I thought you would come back bringing honour and glory; then I wastold--I--"
"I see; your love could not stand the shock."
"No, Owen; my old, poor, and weak love--my idolatry, could not; underthe blow it died."
"Go on, my dear."
"Owen, can you ever forgive me? I have been cold, unloving, unsisterly.I wonder, now, looking back on it, that you did not hate me!"
"No; at first I was disappointed. You hardly know how I loved you longago; how you had managed to twine your little childish self round myheart. When away I thought of you. I longed, almost as much for yoursake as for David's, to win back that wretched gold. You were muchchanged. At first I was much disappointed; at last, I believe,indifferent."
"It is my just punishment, brother. Still, I must say something now.Owen, I love you now. I love you now as I never did long ago; Iunderstand you now. My heart can read yours at last I love you athousand times better than of old. I don't expect you to respond toit," I concluded, with a sob.
Owen rose to his feet. "One moment," he said; "do you love me wellenough not to flatter me; well enough never to flatter me again; wellenough to help me?"
"Oh, yes! Oh! if we might help each other!"
"I do respond to your love. Come to me, Gwladys."
Standing by the little grave, he held out his arms and folded them roundme, and kissed my cheek; and as I looked up into the dear, beautiful,noble face--it was all that truly now--I felt that my air castle hadarisen out of its ashes; my day dream was fulfilled, and I had got backmy hero and my darling.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The End.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends