He did not see Jack as he entered the cottage, and asked the gardener’s wife where he was.
“Oh, he’s there on the bed, sir, with his face to the wall. He’s never moved, nor spoken, nor tasted a morsel, since he heard that the young lord lay a-dying. I can’t get him to answer a question; he lies there as still as a stone. I can’t say if he feels it or not, he has such a strange sullen way.”
Mr. Ewart seated himself close to the boy, who appeared to take no notice of his presence.
“You are not suffering, I hope, from your fall? Yours has been a wonderful preservation; but for the generous courage of Lord Fontonore, you would have been now before the judgment-seat of God.”
“I have just quitted his sick-room,” continued the clergyman. “He is quite calm in the prospect of death, for his life has for long been one preparation for it. The last words that I heard him utter were of you;—he was recommending you to the kindness of his brother.”
Lawless convulsively clutched his pillow.
“He said,” added Mr. Ewart, “that if you were but saved for better things, his life would have been well bestowed.”
Jack suddenly half raised himself upon his bed, then dashed himself down again with frantic violence. “I can’t bear this,” he cried, in a choking voice. “I wish he would hate me, abuse me, trample upon me; anything would be better than this!”
Yes, under all the deep crust of selfishness, malice, and pride, lay a spring of feeling, in the depths of that unconverted heart. That spring had been reached, the deep buried waters gushed forth, and the clergyman left the cottage with a faint but precious hope that his loved pupil had not suffered in vain.
“The foundation upon which the city was framed was higher than the clouds; they therefore went up through the regions of the air, sweetly talking as they went, being comforted because they safely got over the river, and had such glorious companions to attend them.”—_Pilgrim’s Progress._
It would be unnecessary, as well as painful, to mark every step of the progress of the young Pilgrim through the last stage of his earthly journey. He had no mental doubts or gloom; his mind was calm and unclouded, sometimes so vividly realizing the joy set before him that bodily pain seemed almost forgotten. Often he appeared buried in thought, as though his spirit were already holding converse with things unseen, before quitting the frail suffering body.