The Mysterious Light
"GRANNY ROBIN—" said Stephen, when he and Audrey were leaning on her
window-seat on the bright Sunday afternoon which followed that busy
Saturday, "Granny Robin, do you think I shall die young?"
"I can't tell, my dear child," said the old woman, as she stroked
Stephen's little thin hand; "only the dear Lord above knows that."
"I think I should like to die young," said the child.
"If you go to heaven," said Audrey, "it won't be a good thing if you
don't."
"Shall I go to heaven, Granny Robin?" asked the little boy.
"If you have come to Jesus you will, Stephen," she said.
"I would like to come to Jesus, Granny Robin," said Audrey; "but how
can I come to Him? If He was in the city, and I knew which house He was
in, I would go to Him—wouldn't you, Stephie?"
"Yes," said the child; "we would take hold of hands and go together."
"You have not far to go," said Granny Robin, as she laid down her
knitting and put her arms round the two children.
"Tell us just what we must do," said Audrey, "and we'll do it, Stephen
and me, both of us, Granny Robin."
"You have a river here, haven't you, somewhere in the city?" asked the
old woman.
"Yes," said Audrey; "and it's beautiful in summer-time, it's covered
with boats."
"And barges," said Stephen.
"Yes, but the barges are ugly," said Audrey. "But the boats are lovely,
and sometimes they have a sail up, and then I like them best of all.
One day me and Stephen went down on the new walk by the river, and we
sat on one of the seats and watched them."
"Have you ever been over the river?" said Granny Robin.
"Yes, heaps of times," said Audrey.
"Did you swim across?" asked the old woman.
"Oh no, Granny, I should be drowned if I fell in! There's bridges,
you know—great big bridges. There's the pay bridge, where you pay a
halfpenny to go across, and there's two more; but Aunt Cordelia always
goes over the pay bridge."
"Are you afraid of falling in when you're on the bridge, Audrey?"
"Oh no; it's so strong, Granny Robin. Hundreds of folks go over it
every day."
"Audrey," said the old woman, "do you know, I once lived in a country
which had a very dismal name? It was called the Kingdom of Darkness."
"I shouldn't like to go there," said Stephen. "I don't like to be in
the dark."
"I was born there," said Granny Robin, "and I did not notice how dark
and gloomy it was. I was used to it, and it did not strike me as being
very dismal, not for a long, long time."
"How did you find out it was dark, Granny Robin?"
"I looked across the river to the other side."
"And what did you see there? asked Stephen.
"I saw another kingdom, Stephie, which was full of light; glorious
sunshine was streaming on it; there was not a dark corner to be seen in
it."
"Had that country a name?" said Audrey.
"Yes, it was named the Kingdom of Light."
"Didn't you want to go there, Granny Robin?"
"Yes, I was not happy in the Kingdom of Darkness any longer," she said.
"It looked black as night to me, and I wanted—oh, so much!—to get to
the other side."
"Why didn't you go, Granny Robin?"
"I couldn't find the way, Stephie. I tried to get across, but the water
was too deep, and I had to turn back."
"Did you ever get over?" asked Audrey.
But just then Aunt Cordelia's voice was heard calling loudly, "Tea,
Audrey—tea," and the little girl had to run home without hearing the
old woman's answer.
The evening was dark and gloomy. Clouds came driving up and covered the
blue sky, and the wind blew mournfully amongst the forlorn trees in the
churchyard. Granny Robin's window was closed, and Stephen whispered to
Audrey, when she came out, that he heard strange voices inside, and
that his father said two people had come to see Mr. Robin from the
village where he used to live.
Audrey and Stephen wandered about the churchyard together, but it was
very dismal that Sunday evening; even the flowers on the two graves did
not look fresh and beautiful, as they had done the night before.
After a time, they climbed on the square tomb and peeped into the
church, but it seemed more gloomy there than it did outside. Even the
swallow had settled down on his nest, as if he felt too depressed to
venture to fly into the churchyard.
"It looks like the Kingdom of Darkness," said Stephen in an awestruck
voice. "I wonder if Granny Robin ever got across; don't you, Audrey?
Shall we go in now?"
"No, let's stay outside," said the little girl. "Your father's at
chapel, and Aunt Cordelia's at church, and it's much darker in than
out."
So they wandered about for another half-hour, and then even Audrey
owned it would be better to go in.
"Let's have one more look in the church," said Stephen; "I want to see
if the swallow has gone to sleep."
They climbed on the stone, but they could see nothing. The old church
was quite dark now, and Stephen tried in vain to see the swallow in its
nest. They could only distinguish the outline of the chancel window,
and Audrey thought she could see the pulpit with its heavy top, but she
could not be sure even of that.
"Let's go," said little Stephen, shivering; "it looks more like the
Kingdom of Darkness than before."
[Illustration: "LOOK, STEPHEN!" SHE CRIED. "WHAT'S THAT?"]
He was climbing quickly down from the gravestone when Audrey called him.
"Look, Stephen," she cried. "What's that?"
The child got on his feet again and pulled himself up to the window.
When he had looked into the church a moment before all had been dark,
but now a bright light streamed across the chancel. They could see the
old, crooked stone pillars standing out clearly against it; they could
distinguish the communion table, and the wooden rail in front of it;
they could see the high pews and the uneven stone floor; they could
even make out the swallow's nest in the arch nearest to the pulpit.
"What can it be?" said Stephen, trembling from head to foot.
"Some one must be inside," said Audrey. "Let's watch."
"It must be old Maria," said Stephen.
"No, it can't be Maria; we should have seen her come," said Audrey.
"Why, we've been sitting looking at that little stone path leading from
the gate for nearly an hour. I am quite sure it isn't Maria!"
"Who can it be?" said Stephen. "Oh, Audrey, let's fetch father?"
"No, wait a bit," said Audrey; "your father won't be in. Let's watch
it; perhaps we shall see some one."
But although they watched for a long time, no one appeared in the
church, nor were they able to discover from whence the light came.
It was not a steady light; it flickered up and down, and the shadows
on the roof flickered with it. Nothing else moved in the old church;
all else was still as death. But Stephen's heart was beating faster
and faster as the minutes went on; and Audrey, feeling how much he
trembled, was just going to yield to his wish to go home, when quite
suddenly, as suddenly as it had appeared a few minutes before, the
light went out, and the old church was once more left in darkness.