THE KING'S MARK.
For some weeks Amer resolutely put away the thought of the Radiant
City, and would not listen to the Voice. In fact the Voice seemed, when
he heard it at all, to be very far away, and he began to wonder how it
was that its sound had ever stirred his soul.
His new work, the thought that every day he was piling up money for the
support of Gabrielle, together with the society of his old companions,
filled his thoughts and his days, and if ever the remembrance of the
step he had so nearly taken, intruded, he flung it aside.
But was it his fancy that his Mother's face now and then wore an
expression almost of disappointment when she looked at him? Was it
fancy that even Gabrielle did not treat him in exactly the same manner
as formerly? She looked up to him as above her in the old days, falling
in with his suggestions, and following, in a great measure, his advice.
But it seemed now as if there was sometimes a tinge of scorn in her
words, as if he had fallen from some pedestal upon which she had placed
him.
During the day he was able to banish these thoughts and suspicions from
his mind by the means of business or pleasure. But at night he would
lie awake pondering over it, and at times a great loathing of himself
took possession of him. He despised his want of decision. He had been
weak, and had turned his back upon the enduring of hardships.
Moreover the thought of the business he had undertaken lay at times
like a dead weight on his spirit.
Gradually there came a great depression over him, and he began to
wonder if his soul would ever be stirred to its depths again by the
sound of the Voice, and if ever again he would be given the chance of
journeying towards the Radiant City.
So great was his depression and his loathing of himself, that one day
he started off to try and find the herald, but he was told that he had
left Punon some weeks ago. Despondently Amer made his way home, but he
could not rest. He went about his work listlessly, and gradually his
old companions began to drop off from him. He was not as good company
as he used to be.
"Amer is not himself," said his father, "he is working too hard."
But Amer suddenly found out that what was making him so restless and
stirring his apparently dead soul again, was the Voice.
"Come out from among them," it cried, "and be ye separate." Was it his
imagination? Was it fancy?
He was so miserable and so conscious of the sinfulness of himself and
the unsatisfactoriness of his life, that after much agony of soul, he
determined, even if it might be nothing but a morbid imagination, to
start out for the Radiant City.
Even if there was such a place, he had no very strong hopes that he
would be allowed to enter it. The Great King, if there was a King,
might not care to have him after his resolute turning aside before.
But, notwithstanding his doubts, he decided to venture, and should
there be a King, to throw himself on His mercy.
This time, so miserable was he, and so full of fear that he might be
shut out of the Radiant City, that he thought it was worth bearing
scorn and laughter, if only he might start out on his journey. The one
thing he now shrank from was losing Gabrielle, for he could not deceive
himself for a moment about her. She was set against all mention of
the Radiant City, and he knew right well that when he started on his
journey he would have to give her up. He spent nights of anguish over
the thought of this, but his fears lest he was too late to be accepted
as a citizen of the Blessed City were growing so great, that even the
thought of Gabrielle could not make him swerve from his resolution.
Remembering however, his former conduct, and fearing lest his parents
might not take his decision seriously, he determined to start on his
journey without talking it over with them. But to Gabrielle he boldly
mentioned it. Her answer was a derisive laugh.
"I shall believe it when you have started," she said, "and when you
start we part for ever."
Saddened and almost despairing, Amer made his way towards the East
Gate, which he remembered he had been told was the gate through which
he would have to start.
But on nearing it he noticed that it was closed. Anxiously he looked
around him and saw a man coming towards him.
"Sir," said Amer, "can you tell me if this is the way to the Radiant
City, and how the gate is to be opened?"
"Why do you want to know, my lad?" asked the stranger.
"Because I am in great trouble of mind, and am bent on escaping from
this dark place. But I do not know how I can be sure that I shall be
allowed to make the journey, as I have so long put it off."
"What is your trouble," asked the stranger.
"I am my own trouble," he replied, "I have resolutely shut my ears to
the Voice, and have spent much of my short life in folly and sin; and
now my heart will not let me rest. My sins are such that I am unable to
look up. Sir, are you able to give me comfort?"
The stranger pointed to some words carved on the stone above the gate
which Amer had not noticed:—
"'Come unto Me all ye that are weary and heavy laden and I will give
you rest.'"
"That is the message of the Great King to you, my lad," he said.
"To me!" murmured Amer, astonished.
"Yes, to you. To all that need Him, to all who have sinned and want His
forgiveness, to all that hope in His mercy, to all who feel themselves
to be miserable sinners and to need a Saviour."
"I am that sinner," cried Amer, "'I have gone astray like a sheep that
is lost.' Let me through that I may start at once for the Radiant City,
so that I may fall at the feet of my King and thank Him for His mercy."
"You cannot go through that gate without the King's Mark," said the
stranger, "It is a Cross, a Cross of Blood, which you will wear always
on your forehead.* This is the key which alone will open the gate for
you, and it is your talisman for your journey."
"What does it mean?"
"It means that you belong to the Great King; that He has set His own
mark upon you; that He has washed away your sins with His own Blood;
that you are forgiven; that His angels will be about your path; that
you have but to cry out and the King Himself will hear you and deliver
you."
"And must everyone who starts on his journey wear this sign?"
"No one can even start on this journey without it. The gate will not
open unless this sign be worn."
"Sir, give me the key," cried Amer, "that I may at once begin my
journey."
"Nay," said the stranger, "man cannot give you the key, neither can
man open the gate. It must be done by the King Himself, I am but His
ambassador."
"Must I wait, then?" asked Amer, sadly.
* Eph. 1, 7. S. John 14, 6.
"Nay, not a moment," said the stranger, "the King is even waiting to
let you through the gate and has been waiting for years. Aye, He is
rejoicing to-day in the Radiant City because He sees you coming to Him.
'There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that
repenteth.'"
"But," asked Amer, perplexed, "I do not see the King and how am I to
open the gate?"
"The King sees you," answered the stranger, "and that is what
signifies. All you have to do is to obey the words above the gate,
'Come unto Me.' You will find as you enter the porch, the gate will fly
open and the King Himself will mark you for His own. You have simply to
take Him at His word."
Then with great joy Amer went forward, and as he passed through the
portal, the gate opened, the King's mark was placed upon his brow,
and he found himself on the other side in a blaze of light and glory.
So wonderful was the change from the dark city he had left behind,
and such a peace stole into his heart, that he could only fall on his
knees and worship and praise the invisible King, Who had taken away his
burden and his misery.
"I will thank Thee, O Lord my God," he cried, "with all my heart: and
will praise Thy name for evermore. For great is Thy mercy toward me:
and Thou hast delivered my soul from the nethermost hell."