STRAYING FROM THE PATH.
Belthiah and Iddo passed the outskirts of the Land of Achshaph on their
journey. Iddo looked curiously into the green glades of the land, and
what she saw there fascinated her.
"Mother," she cried, "look at the flowers in those lanes, they are
lovely. I have never seen such large ones; surely I may pluck some of
them."
"You could not pick them without going out of your path, my child,"
said her mother, "see, your path only skirts the land. It is not the
way the King has appointed you to tread."
Iddo still looked longingly at the flowers.
"It would only be a very little way out of the path," she murmured,
"and it seems such a pity to pass them by."
Her mother was silent as she walked steadily forward, but Iddo lagged
behind.
Only a yard or two from her path were flowers such as she had never
seen or dreamt of. Their blossoms were sprinkled in rich profusion
over the grass; blossoms of deep purple and red, while in the distance
she caught sight of others of bright blue, which attracted her still
more. Iddo hesitated a moment. There would be time to run and pick a
few before her mother had turned the next corner. The temptation was
strong, and suddenly the girl gave way to it. Leaving her path she ran
into the green glade, and stooping down picked as many flowers as her
hands could hold. Then sitting down in the grass she began to decorate
herself with them, placing some in her waistband, and other blossoms in
her hair.
"How pretty," sighed a voice by her side.
Iddo looked round quickly, and saw a dainty little lady standing beside
her, dressed in very fine clothing.
The girl was startled, and suddenly remembered that she had wandered
away from her right path; but the little creature in front of her did
not look alarming, so though Iddo rose from the ground she lingered by
her side. Besides, the compliment that had been paid to her was not
lost upon the girl.
"These flowers are lovely," she murmured.
"But never so lovely as when they deck a pretty maiden," answered her
companion, "it is a pity that the people of Achshaph cannot see you,"
she added.
"Are there many people in this land?" asked Iddo.
"Yes, very many, and they are happy from morning to night. But would
you like to see yourself? If you come a few steps with me I will show
you a lovely picture."
"Oh! I dare not," said Iddo, sorely longing all the time to go with her
gay little companion, "I am afraid of losing my way."
"Losing your way? Where are you going to?"
"I am on my way to the Radiant City," said Iddo, "and I have no time to
lose."
"You need not lose many minutes if you would like to see how you look.
Those blue flowers suit your hair exactly; come just a few yards
further;" and Iddo gave way to the temptation, and followed her guide
till she came to the brink of a pool, where she was told to kneel down
and take a long look. What she saw fascinated her. It was a lovely face
that was reflected in the pool, so lovely that the child at once busied
herself with a fresh arrangement of the flowers in her hair.
"What a pity there is no one else to see you," said her companion. Iddo
stood up flushed and pleased.
"Would they like to see me, do you think?" she asked.
"To be sure they would, but they would be afraid of you if you show
your armour so plainly. Why do you wear it?"
"I wear it because I am on the way to the Radiant City, and there are
many enemies to fight. Are there any here?"
"No, they are all friends here. They would laugh at such a thing. You
must certainly hide your sword if you want to get to know any of them."
"I don't like to take it off," said Iddo, looking down wistfully, "but
really there does not seem much point in having it here; the place
seems so peaceful, and if all the people are as bright and nice as you
are, there can surely be no need of it. I think I can, however, hide it
in the skirt of my dress."
"But, then, there is your helmet," said her companion, "you would
look very queer here in a helmet, and in the rest of your armour. I
have seen some of the pilgrims passing through Achshaph wearing full
armour," she added, laughing, "and they looked quite ridiculous. In
fact, the people of Achshaph were so amused at them that, I assure you,
they did not have at all a happy time of it. They looked neither to the
right nor to the left, even when the most lovely music was played on
purpose to attract them. They would not pluck a single apple from the
trees."
"Is there beautiful music?" asked Iddo, her eyes brightening.
"Yes, indeed, music and dancing and playing of all sorts. And as you
are so very pretty, my dear, you will get the best of everything, only
you know you really must not show all that armour."
"I'll tuck my sword under my dress," said Iddo, now quite bent on
seeing more of Achshaph, "and I'll hide my helmet and the rest of my
armour in this long grass. There will be no difficulty in finding them
again, will there?"
"No difficulty whatever," said Madam Vanity, for that was her name,
"and it is the only way if you want to enjoy Achshaph. They must never
guess that you are a pilgrim to the Radiant City."
Iddo looked grave for a moment, and then stood listening.
"Did you hear that?" she asked.
"Hear what, my dear? I only heard the breeze in the trees."
"I thought I heard my mother's voice," said Iddo, with a little gasp,
then she added, "I don't think I ought to come, and I am sure that
mother would not like me to be afraid of letting people know that I am
a pilgrim."
"You will be with her again very soon, and it is only just for an hour
that you will play at being something else," and all the while Madam
Vanity was speaking, she was making a lovely wreath for the girl's
hair, and at her last words she fastened it among her tresses, and bade
her look at herself once more.
"You'll be a thorough success in Achshaph," she said gaily, "come, put
away those scruples and enjoy yourself," and after helping Iddo to hide
away her armour in the grass, and to arrange her sword within the folds
of her skirt so that it did not show, she took her hand and led the way.
And for the next few hours Iddo almost forgot that she was a pilgrim.
"This is my cousin," said Madam Vanity, and as she spoke another small
person came towards Iddo with a smile. Her name was Love of Admiration,
and she, like Madam Vanity, looked so small and unformidable, that it
never struck Iddo that they were enemies that had prevented many a one
from starting on the journey to the Radiant City, and had hindered and
worried real Pilgrims with their suggestions and temptations.
Love of Admiration took her into a lovely glade where there were a
number of youths and girls playing games, and no sooner were they aware
of Iddo than they came round her exclaiming at her beauty, and begging
her to play with them. Iddo, flushed and excited, was only too pleased
to join them, and she was made so much of and admired so greatly that
she was perfectly happy, and was quite unconscious of the flight of the
hours. Her companions vied with one another in getting her beautiful
fruit to eat, in presenting her with the rarest flowers, and in
choosing her for their partner in the games.
There was one girl called Aimee, to whom Iddo took a special fancy,
she was older than herself, and had a more thoughtful face than her
companions. Thinking that Iddo might be shy among so many strangers,
she took great notice of her, and Iddo rewarded her kindness by a
wholehearted devotion. How swiftly the hours flew by the girl did
not know; it seemed to her like a happy dream; and conscious of her
popularity and of the admiration she attracted, she began to think
herself of some importance, and contrasted herself very favourably with
the other girls with whom she came into contact. The expression of her
face was gradually altering, for Madam Vanity and her cousin were often
at her side holding conversation with her.
During a lull in the games, Iddo found courage to tell her special
friend that she was a pilgrim to the Radiant City. She was not prepared
for the effect of her words. A look of disdain crossed her companion's
face.
"I was told that you were," she answered, "but I would not believe it.
You are quite unlike every other pilgrim I have met."
"How am I unlike them?" asked Iddo, feeling rather uncomfortable.
"The other pilgrims have worn their armour all the time they have
passed through our land. But you don't seem to have any."
"Oh yes I have," exclaimed Iddo, "look, here is my sword."
"You have managed to hide it well," said her companion.
"The friend who brought me to you told me it would never do to meet you
all, dressed in my armour," said Iddo.
"You were afraid of being laughed at I suppose?"
The tone of voice, full of scorn as it was, brought the colour into
Iddo's face.
"I always meant to show it before I left you," she murmured. Aimee
looked at Iddo with an expression that the girl did not quite
understand.
"What are you thinking of?" she asked.
"I was thinking how much more I respected the pilgrims who are not
ashamed of their King and their Country," said Aimee.
"Oh!" said Iddo, "I am afraid you despise me, I could not bear to think
that."
"Well, my dear, don't think of it! See, the game is beginning again.
Notwithstanding your lack of courage, there is something about you that
I like; come, they are looking for you."
And in the pleasure of joining in the game, Iddo forgot for a time the
disagreeable sensation that the look of scorn she had caught on Aimee's
face, had produced in her.
It was sometime after this that the game suddenly stopped at the
approach of a girl as pretty as Iddo, and with much more to say for
herself, and Iddo's admirers, with a hasty apology, left her one by one
and centred round the new corner.
Iddo turned red with disappointment, and sat down on the grass to watch.
"It is very unfair," whispered a voice by her side, "you are far
prettier than this new girl."
Iddo, startled, looked around her, and saw a man leaning against a
tree, watching the group around the new corner with fire smouldering
in his eyes. He was an ugly man, and at first she so disliked the
look of him that she paid no attention to his words, nevertheless her
disappointment at being deserted changed at his remark to vexation.
"Every one admired and spoilt you till that girl came," the man
continued, "they are very fickle."
Iddo felt this stranger was so much in sympathy with her that she
looked at him again, and her face caught something of the gloomy
expression that his wore.
"What shall I do?" she asked, "it is horrid sitting here all by myself,
when that girl is being so courted. Please give me your advice."
"Wait and see," said the man, whose name was Jealousy, and as he spoke
the crowd came dancing and laughing in her direction. One or two seeing
her sitting alone made their way towards her.
"Pretend not to notice them," whispered Jealousy at her shoulder.
So Iddo turned away her face as they approached. They did not, however,
at first notice her behaviour.
"Have you seen that pretty girl who has just joined us?" they asked.
"I don't think she is pretty," said Iddo, at the suggestion of the
enemy.
"She is quite lovely," they returned, "and her voice is like a bird's.
You should hear her sing. It is the sweetest voice we have heard for a
long time."
"Her voice has no strength in it," answered Iddo.
"Well, it may not be strong, but it is as sweet as a bird's."
"I don't think so," argued the girl testily, "I heard distinctly two or
three flat notes, she can't have a correct ear."
"Well you are hard to please," they said, as they turned away; while
others, seeing that Jealousy was at Iddo's elbow, stayed, determined to
have a little fun.
"She is going to dance," said one, "look at her gracefulness. It seems
to me that whatever she attempts she does well."
"We have never had such an addition to our company," said another,
"every one pales beside her."
"Look at the lovely flush on her cheeks," said a third, "surely," he
added, turning to Iddo, who was sitting, miserable and angry, on the
grass by the side of Jealousy, "surely you must admire her?"
"No, I don't," said Iddo, sullenly.
"How disagreeable you are," they exclaimed, laughing, "we thought you
were a very different kind of girl," and as they moved away Iddo heard
one of them remark:
"How that girl has disimproved. She has such a sour expression on her
face, which quite spoils her beauty, and she evidently cannot bear
anyone being admired but herself."
"Did you hear that?" asked Jealousy. "I think the way they are treating
you is quite disgraceful."
Had Belthiah seen her little daughter at that moment she would scarcely
have recognized her. Her brow was puckered with vexation, and her eyes
wore a remarkable likeness in their expression to that of the enemy by
her side—they were moody and sullen.
"I think I shall go away," she murmured.
"No, don't go away," answered Jealousy, "show them that you don't care.
Be cold and distant to them, it will teach them how to behave."
So, when some of her playmates came near her, Iddo looked at them so
coldly and disagreeably that they turned back with a shrug of their
shoulders, and warned their friends to have nothing to do with her, for
she was quite impossible.
So poor Iddo was left severely alone, and began to repent that she
had not listened to her mother's advice. The lovely flowers which had
attracted her were all beginning to fade, and she made a sorry picture
with her gloomy expression of face, and the faded flowers in her hair
and on her dress. Then she rose, and began to try and find Aimee. Aimee
surely would not desert her like the rest of the people, for she was
her chosen friend. Where could she be? Iddo had been so full of chagrin
at the behaviour of the others that she had not noticed that her friend
had disappeared, and now looked about her anxiously.
Suddenly she caught sight of her in deep conversation with one whom
Iddo recognized at once as being a pilgrim to the Radiant City. She
was walking fully armed, and Iddo noticed that behind her trotted
Madam Vanity, but that the pilgrim would have nothing to say to her.
Other enemies were also doing what they could to annoy her, but she
perpetually pulled out her sword and they fled. Aimee was walking by
her side, looking up at her with admiration, and as Iddo neared them
she heard her say:
"Why are not all pilgrims to the Radiant City like you? I have just
been with one who was so ashamed of being a pilgrim and a soldier, that
she hid her sword within the folds of her dress."
Iddo noticed that at Aimee's words, Love of Admiration, who had been
trotting by the side of Madam Vanity, peered up into the pilgrim's face
trying to attract her attention, but her efforts were in vain, for the
girl turned her face away as she spoke in a low voice to her companion,
so low that she could not catch her words. But Aimee's remark had
caused a flush of shame to rise on Iddo's cheeks, and though she
dreaded to hear any more, and felt that she had no business to listen,
she gave way to the temptation, and drawing nearer heard her friend say
softly,
"You almost persuade me to be a pilgrim to the Radiant City." At that
Iddo turned away. She could bear it no longer. If only she had been
braver and had confessed her King, what might not have happened! She
forgot at the moment that she had not entered Achshaph at the command
of the King, and that while not travelling on the right path, it was
not likely that she could do the King's work. She forgot this, and was
filled with remorse at the thought that another had succeeded where she
had failed. So depressed was she that she longed to get out of the Land
of Enchantment as soon as she could, and began looking about for her
armour. But she was not allowed to be alone. Jealousy had followed her
and now came forward.
"Even your friend," he whispered, "has forsaken you."
Iddo felt vexed with his remark.
"I want to get out of this land," she said quickly, "and shall find my
way better if left to myself."
"It is extraordinary that Aimee has forgotten you so soon after all her
profession of friendship," whispered her companion.
Iddo did not answer, but her eyes grew angry at the thought of the
girl's desertion.
"I don't suppose," added Jealousy, "if you meet her again that she will
care at all for you, as she is evidently quite taken up with her new
friend."
"Oh can't you leave me alone, I'm miserable enough without your talk,"
cried Iddo, who had forgotten by this time that she had a remedy close
at hand in her sword.
"Of course," continued her companion, "you have not a chance. You will
never be her friend again."
And at those words the girl flung herself on the ground and sobbed.
Jealousy, because he had not been worsted at once, but had been
listened to and talked to, had won his point, and had worked Iddo's
feelings up to such a pitch of anger that she almost felt that she
hated Aimee. How long she sat sobbing and rocking herself to and fro
on the ground, her heart filled with the thoughts that Jealousy had
planted there, she did not know, but at last feeling exhausted and a
little frightened lest she should not find her way out of Achshaph,
she rose and took to looking for her armour in earnest. It was only
then that she discovered to her great distress that the flowers that
now hung about her were dead, and had stained her dress with their
colours. She took them angrily out of her hair and waistband and threw
them away; but though the flowers were gone the stains still remained,
and she wondered ruefully what her mother would say when she saw her.
And from her mother her thoughts flew to her King. How she must have
grieved Him, how disappointed He must be in her!
Suddenly she fell on her knees and clasped her hands, crying for
forgiveness and help. And no sooner did she cry than a bright angel
came to her aid, and taking her by the hand lifted her up and led her
to a fountain that was close beside her, and in which she washed her
dress of its stains. Then silently the angel showed her where she could
again find her armour, and clad her with it, and so once more ready for
her journey to the Radiant City, Iddo found herself on the right path
and before long was folded in her mother's arms.