CHAPTER XLIV
ON THE BEACH
In the situation of supreme peril described in the last chapter, Dennisstood a second helpless and hopeless. Christine rested a heavy burdenin his arms, happily unconscious. Breathing an agonized prayer toheaven, he looked around for any possibility of escape. Just then anexpress-wagon was driven furiously toward them, its driver seeking hisway out by the same path that Dennis had chosen. As he reached themthe man saw the hopeless obstruction, and wheeled his horses. As hedid so, quick as thought, Dennis threw Christine into the bottom ofthe wagon, and, clinging to it, climbed into it himself. He turnedher face downward from the fire, and, covering his own, he crouchedbeside her, trusting all now to God.
The driver urged his horses toward the lake, believing that his onlychance. They tore away through the blazing streets. The poor man wassoon swept from his seat and perished, but his horses rushed madly ontill they plunged into the lake.
At the sound of water Dennis lifted his head and gave a cry of joy.It seemed that the hand of God had snatched them from death. Gentlyhe lifted Christine out upon the sands and commenced bathing her facefrom the water that broke in spray at his feet. She soon revived andlooked around. In a voice full of awe and wonder she whispered, "Ah!there is another world and another life, after all."
"Indeed there is, Miss Ludolph," said Dennis, supporting her on hisarm and bending over her, "but, thanks to a merciful Providence, youare still in this one."
"How is it?" she said, with a bewildered air. "I do not understand.The last I remember, we were surrounded by fire, you were despairing,and it seemed that I died."
"You fainted, Miss Ludolph. But God as by a miracle brought us out ofthe furnace, and for the present we are safe." After she hadsufficiently rallied from her excessive exhaustion and terror, he toldher how they escaped.
"I see no God in it all," she said; "only a most fortunate opportunity,of which you, with great nerve and presence of mind, availed yourself.To you alone, again and again this dreadful night, I owe my life."
"God uses us as His instruments to do His will. The light will cometo you by and by, and you will learn a better wisdom."
"In this awful conflagration the light has come. On every side I seeas in letters of fire, 'There is no God.' If it were otherwise thesescenes would be impossible. And any being permitting or causing theevils and crimes this dreadful night has witnessed, I shall fear andhate beyond the power of language to express."
She uttered these words sitting on the sands with multitudes of others,her face (from which Dennis had washed the dust and smoke) looking inthe glare so wan and white that he feared, with a sickening dread,that through exposure, terror, or some of the many dangers by whichthey were surrounded, she might pass into the future world with allher unbelief and spiritual darkness. He yearned over her with asolicitude and pity that he could not express. She seemed sonear--indeed he could feel her form tremble, as she kneeled besideher, and supported her by his arm--and yet, in view of her faithlessstate, how widely were they separated! Should any one of the manyperils about them quench the little candle of her life, which even nowflickered faintly, where in the wide universe could he hope to meether again? God can no doubt console His children and make up to themevery loss, but the passionate heart, with its intense human love,clings to its idol none the less. Dennis saw that the fire wouldprobably hem them in on the beach for the remainder of the night andthe following day. He determined therefore in every way possible tobeguile the weary, perilous hours, and, if she would permit it, tolead her thoughts heavenward. Hence arose from time to timeconversations, to which, with joy, he found Christine no longer averse.Indeed, she often introduced them.
Chafing her hands, he said in accents of the deepest sympathy, "HowI pity you, Miss Ludolph! It must indeed be terrible to possess yourthoughtful mind, to realize these scenes so keenly, and yet have nofaith in a Divine Friend. I cannot explain to you the mystery ofevil--why it came, or why it exists. Who can? I am but one of God'slittle children, and only know with certainty that my Heavenly Fatherloves and will take care of me."
"How do you know it?" she asked, eagerly.
"In several ways. Mainly because I feel it."
"It all seems so vague and unreal," she sighed, dreamily. "There isnothing certain, assured. There is no test by which I can at once knowthe truth."
"That does not prevent the truth from existing. That some are blindis no proof that color does not exist."
"But how can you be sure there is a God? You never saw Him."
"I do not see the heat that scorches us, but I feel it, and know itexists."
"But I feel the heat the same as yourself, and I have no consciousnessof a Divine Being."
"That does not take away my consciousness that He is my Saviour andFriend. As yet you are spiritually dead. If you were physically dead,you would not feel the heat of this fire."
"Oh, it is all mystery--darkness," she cried, piteously.
The sun had now risen quite above the waters of the lake, but seenthrough the lurid smoke which swept over its face, it seemed like oneof the great red cinders that were continually sailing over theirheads. In the frightful glare, the transition from night to day hadscarcely been noted. The long, narrow beach was occupied by thousandsof fugitives, who were hemmed in on every side. On the south was theriver, skirted with fire, while opposite, on the west, the heat wasalmost intolerable; on the east were the cold waves of the lake, andon the north a burning pier that they could not cross. Their only hopewas to cling to that narrow line where fire and water mingled, andwith one element to fight the other. Here again was seen the minglingof all classes which the streets and every place of refuge witnessed.Judges, physicians, statesmen, clergymen, bankers, were jostled byroughs and thieves. The laborer sat on the sand with his family, sideby side with the millionaire and his household. The poor debauchedwoman of the town moaned and shivered in her scant clothing, at a slightremove from the most refined Christian lady. In the unparalleleddisaster, all social distinctions were lost, levelled like the beachon which the fugitives cowered. From some groups was heard the voiceof prayer; from others, bitter wailings and passionate cries for lostmembers of the family; others had saved quantities of vile whiskey,if nothing else, and made the scene more ghastly by orgies that seemednot of earth. Added to the liquor were the mad excitement andrecklessness which often seize the depraved classes on such occasions.They committed excesses that cannot be mentioned-these drunken, howling,fighting wretches. Obscene epithets and words fell around like blows.And yet all were so occupied with their own misfortunes, sufferings,and danger, as scarcely to heed their neighbors, unless these becamevery violent.
Upon this heterogeneous mass of humanity the fire rained down almostas we imagine it to have fallen upon the doomed cities of the plain,and the hot breath of the flames scorched the exposed cheek and crispedeven eyebrows and hair. Sparks, flakes, cinders, pieces of roof, andfiery pebbles seemed to fill the air, and often cries and shrieksannounced that furniture and bedding which had been dragged thither,and even the clothing of women and children, were burning. Added toall the other terrors of the scene was the presence of large numbersof horses and cattle, snorting and plunging in their fright and pain.
But the sound that smote Dennis's heart with the deepest commiserationwas the continuous wail of helpless little children, many of themutterly separated from parents and friends, and in the very agony offear.
He greatly dreaded the effect of these upon Christine, knowing how,in the luxurious past, she had been shielded from every roughexperience. But she at length rallied into something like composure.Her constitution was elastic and full of vitality, and after escapingfrom immediate danger she again began to hope. Moreover, to a degreethat even she could not understand, his presence was a source ofstrength and courage, and her heart clung to him with desperateearnestness, believing him the sole barrier against immediate death,and (what she dreaded scarcely less) a lonely, wretched existence
,should her life be spared.
Though he never lost sight of her for a moment, and kept continuallywetting her hair and person, he found time to render assistance toothers, and, by carrying his hat full of water here and there,extinguished many a dangerous spark. He also, again and again, snatchedup little children from under the trampling hoofs of frightened horses.
As she watched him, so self-forgetful and fearless, she realized moreand more vividly that he was sustained and animated by some mightyprinciple that she knew nothing of, and could not understand. Theimpression grew upon her that he was right and she wrong. Though itall remained in mystery and doubt, she could not resist the logic oftrue Christian action.
But as the day advanced the flames grew hotter, and their breath morewithering. About noon Dennis noticed that some shanties on the sandnear them were in danger of catching fire and perilling all in thatvicinity. Therefore he said, "Miss Ludolph, stay here where I leaveyou for a little time, so that I may know just where to find you."
"Oh, do not leave me!" she pleaded: "I have no one in the wide worldto help me except you."
"I shall not be beyond call. You see those shanties there; if possiblewe must keep them from burning, or the fire will come too near forsafety." Then, starting forward, he cried, "Who will volunteer to keepthe fire back? All must see that if those buildings burn we shall bein danger."
Several men stepped forward, and with hats and anything that wouldhold water they began to wet the old rookeries. But the fiery stormswooped steadily down on them, and their efforts were as futile as ifthey had tried to beat back the wind. Suddenly a mass of flameleaped upon the buildings, and in a moment they were all ablaze.
"Into the lake, quick!" cried Dennis, and all rushed for the coolwaters.
Lifting Christine from the sand, and passing his arm around hertrembling, shivering form, he plunged through the breakers, and thecrowd pressed after him. Indeed they pushed him so far out in the coldwaves that he nearly lost his footing, and for a few moments Christinelost hers altogether, and added her cries to those of theterror-stricken multitude. But pushing in a little nearer the shore,he held her firmly and said with the confidence that again inspiredhope: "Courage, Miss Ludolph. With God's help I will save you yet."
Even as she clung to him in the water, she looked into his face. Hewas regarding her so kindly, so pitifully, that a great and generousimpulse, the richest, ripest fruit of her human love, throbbed at herheart, and faltered from her lips--"Mr. Fleet, I am not worthy ofthis risk on your part. If you will leave me you can save your ownlife, and your life is worth so much more than mine!"
True and deep must have been the affection that could lead ChristineLudolph to say such words to any human being. There was a time when,in her creed, all the world existed but to minister to her. But shewas not sorry to see the look of pained surprise which came intoDennis's face and to hear him say, very sadly: "Miss Ludolph, I didnot imagine that you could think me capable of that. I had the goodfortune to rescue Miss Brown last night, at greater peril than this,and do you think I would leave you?"
"You are a true knight, Mr. Fleet," she said, humbly, "and the needor danger of every defenceless woman is alike a sacred claim upon you."
Dennis was about to intimate that, though this was true in knightlycreed, still among all the women in the world there might be apreference, when a score of horses, driven before the fire, and goadedby the burning cinders, rushed down the beach, into the water, rightamong the human fugitives.
Again went up the cry of agony and terror. Some were no doubt strickendown not to rise again. In the melee Dennis pushed out into deeperwater, where the frantic animals could not plunge upon him. A childfloated near, and he snatched it up. As soon as the poor brutes becamequiet, clasping Christine with his right arm and holding up the childwith the other, he waded into shallow water.
The peril was now perhaps at its height, and all were obliged to wettheir heads, to keep even their hair from singeing. Those on the beachthrew water on each other without cessation. Many a choice bit ofproperty--it might be a piano, or an express-wagon loaded with therichest furs and driven to the beach as a place of fancied security--nowcaught fire, and added to the heat and consternation.
When this hour of extreme danger had passed, standing with the coldbillows of the lake breaking round him, and the billows of fire stillrolling overhead, Dennis began to sing in his loud, clear voice:
"Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly, While the billows near me roll, While the tempest still is high."
Voice after voice joined in, some loud and strong, but others weak andtrembling--the pitiful cry of poor terror-stricken women to the onlyOne who it seemed could help them in their bitter extremity. Neverbefore were those beautiful words sung in such accents of clinging,touching faith. Its sweet cadence was heard above the roar of theflames and the breakers.
Christine could only cling weeping to Dennis.
When the hymn ceased, in harshest discord the voice of a half-drunkenman grated on their ears.
"An' what in bloody blazes does yer Jasus burn us all up for, I'd liketo know. Sure an' he's no right to send us to hell before our time."
"Oh, hush! hush!" cried a dozen voices, shocked and pained.
"Divil a bit will I hush, sure; an' haven't I as good a right to haveme say as that singin' parson!"
"You are an Irishman, are you not?" said Dennis, now venturing out ofthe water.
"Yis! what have ye got to say agin it?" asked the man, belligerent atonce.
"Did you ever know an Irishman refuse to do what a lady asked of him?"
"Faith no, and I niver will."
"Then this lady, who is sick and suffering, asks you to please keepstill, and I will be still also; so that's fair."
The Irishman scratched his head a moment, and said in a quieter tone,"Since ye spake so civil and dacent, I'll do as ye sez; and here's tothe leddy's health;" and he finished a bottle of whiskey, which hesoon laid him out on the beach.
"Thank you! Thank you!" said grateful voices on every side.
Dennis found the mother of the child and gave it to her; and thencausing Christine to sit down near the water, where he could easilythrow it on her, he stood at her side, vigilant and almost tender inhis solicitude. Her tears were falling very fast, and he presentlystooped down and said, gently, "Miss Ludolph, I think the worst of thedanger is over."
"Oh, Mr. Fleet!" she whispered, "dreadful as it may seem to you, thewords of that drunken brute there are nearer the language of my heartthan those of your sweet hymn. How can a good God permit such creaturesand evils to exist?"
"Again I must say to you," said Dennis, "that I cannot explain themystery of evil. But I know this, God is superior to it; He will atlast triumph over it. The Bible reveals Him to us as able and as seekingto deliver all who will trust Him and work with Him, and those whoventure out upon His promises find them true. Miss Ludolph, this isnot merely a matter of theory, argument, and belief. It is more trulya matter of experience. The Bible invites, 'Oh, taste and see that theLord is good.' I have tasted and know He is. I have trusted Him foryears, and He never failed me."
"You certainly have been sustained throughout this dreadful scene bya principle that I cannot understand, but I would give all the worldto possess it."
"You may possess it, Miss Ludolph."
"How? how?" she asked, eagerly.
"Do you wish to believe as I do?"
"Yes, indeed; and yet my heart rebels against a God who permits, evenif He does not cause, all this evil."
"Does it rebel against a Being who from first to last tries to savemen from evil?"
"Tries! tries! what an expression to apply to a God! Why does He notdo it in every case?"
"Because multitudes will not let Him."
"Oh, that is worse still! Surely, Mr. Fleet, you let your reason havenothing to do with your faith. How can a poor and weak being likemyself prev
ent an Almighty one from doing what He pleases?"
"I am stronger than you, Miss Ludolph, and yet I could not have savedyou to-night unless you had first trusted me, and then done everythingin your power to further my efforts."
"But your power is human and limited, and you say God is all-powerful."
"Yes, but it is His plan and purpose never to save us against our will.He has made us in His own image and endowed us with reason, conscience,and a will to choose between good and evil. He appeals to these noblefaculties from first to last. He has given us hearts, and seeks towin them by revealing His love to us. More than all, His Spirit,present in the world, uses every form of truth in persuading and makingus willing to become His true children. So you see that neither on theone hand does God gather us up like drift-wood nor does He on the otherdrag us at His chariot wheels, unwilling captives, as did those who,at various times, have sought to overrun the world by force. God seeksto conquer the world by the might of the truth, by the might of love."
Christine was hanging with the most eager interest on his words.Suddenly his eyes, which had expressed such a kindly and almost tenderinterest in her, blazed with indignation, and he darted up the beach.Turning around she saw, at some little distance, a young woman mostscantily clad, clinging desperately to a bundle which a large, coarseman was trying to wrench from her. The wretch, finding that he couldnot loosen her hold, struck her in the face with such force that shefell stunned upon the ground, and the bundle flew out of her hand.He eagerly snatched it up, believing it to contain jewelry. Beforehe could escape he was confronted by an unexpected enemy. But Denniswas in a passion, and withal weak and exhausted, while his adversarywas cool, and an adept in the pugilistic art. The two men foughtsavagely, and Christine, forgetting herself in her instinctive desireto help Dennis, was rushing to his side, crying, "If there is a manhere worthy of the name, let him strike for the right!" but before sheand others could reach the combatants the thief had planted his fiston Dennis's temple. Though the latter partially parried the blow, itfell with such force as to extend him senseless on the earth. Thevillain, with a shout of derision, snatched up the bundle and dashedoff apparently toward the fire. There was but a feeble attempt madeto follow him. Few understood the case, and indeed scenes of violenceand terror had become so common that the majority had grown apathetic,save in respect to their personal well-being.
Christine lifted the pale face, down which the blood was trickling,into her lap, and cried, in a tone of indescribable anguish, "Oh, heis dead! he is dead!"
"Oh, no, miss; he is not dead, I guess," said a good-natured voicenear. "Let me bring a hatful of water from the lake, and that'll bringhim to."
And so it did. Dennis opened his eyes, put his hand to his head, andthen looked around. But when he saw Christine bending over him withtearful eyes, and realized how tenderly she had pillowed his achinghead, he started up with a deep flush of pleasure, and said: "Do notbe alarmed, Miss Ludolph; I was only stunned for a moment. Where isthe thief?"
"Oh, they let him escape," said Christine, indignantly.
"Shame!" cried Dennis, regaining his feet rather unsteadily.
"Wal, stranger, a good many wrongs to-night must go unrighted."
The poor girl who had been robbed sat on the sands swaying backing andforth, wringing her hands, and crying that she had lost everything.
"Well, my poor friend, that is about the case with the most of us. Wemay be thankful that we have our lives. Here is my coat," for hershoulders and neck were bare; "and if you will come down to the lakethis lady," pointing to Christine, "will bathe the place where thebrute struck you."
"Shall I not give up my shawl to some of these poor creatures?" askedChristine.
"No, Miss Ludolph, I do not know how long we may be kept here; but Ifear we shall suffer as much from cold as from heat, and your lifemight depend upon keeping warm."
"I will do whatever you bid me," she said, looking gratefully at him.
"That is the way to feel and act toward God," he said, gently.
But with sudden impetuosity she answered: "I cannot see what He hasjust permitted to happen before my eyes. Right has not triumphed, butthe foulest wrong."
"You do not see the end, Miss Ludolph."
"But I must judge from what I see."
After she had bathed the poor girl's face, comforted and reassuredher, Dennis took up the conversation again and found Christine eagerto listen. Pausing every few moments to throw water over his companion,he said: "Faith is beyond reason, beyond knowledge, though not contraryto them. You are judging as we do not judge about the commonestaffairs--from a few isolated, mysterious facts, instead of carefullylooking the subject all over. You pass by what is plain and wellunderstood to what is obscure, and from that point seek to understandChristianity. Every science has its obscure points and mysteries, butwho begins with those to learn the science? Can you ignore the factthat millions of highly intelligent people, with every motive to knowthe truth, have satisfied themselves as to the reality of our faith?Our Bible system of truth may contain much that is obscure, even asthe starry vault has distances that no eye or telescope can penetrate,and as this little earth has mysteries that science cannot solve, butthere is enough known and understood to satisfy us perfectly. Let meassure you, Miss Ludolph, that Christianity rests on broad truths, andis sustained by arguments that no candid mind can resist after patientlyconsidering them."
She shook her head, silenced perhaps, but not satisfied.