GARTH FINDS THE CROSS
The village church on the green was bathed in sunshine as Jane emerged from the cool shade of the park.The clock proclaimed the hour half-past eleven, and Jane did not hasten, knowing she was not expected until twelve.The windows of the church were open, and the massive oaken doors stood ajar.
Jane paused beneath the ivy-covered porch and stood listening.The tones of the organ reached her as from an immense distance, and yet with an all-pervading nearness.The sound was disassociated from hands and feet.The organ seemed breathing, and its breath was music.
Jane pushed the heavy door further open, and even at that moment it occurred to her that the freckled boy with a red head, and Garth's slim proportions, had evidently passed easily through an aperture which refused ingress to her more massive figure.She pushed the door further open, and went in.
Instantly a stillness entered into her soul.The sense of unseen presences, often so strongly felt on entering an empty church alone, the impress left upon old walls and rafters by the worshipping minds of centuries, hushed the insistent beating of her own perplexity, and for a few moments she forgot the errand which brought her there, and bowed her head in unison with the worship of ages.
Garth was playing the "Veni, Creator Spiritus" to Attwood's perfect setting; and, as Jane walked noiselessly up to the chancel, he began to sing the words of the second verse.He sang them softly, but his beautifully modulated barytone carried well, and every syllable reached her.
"Enable with perpetual light The dulness of our blinded sight;Anoint and cheer our soiled face With the abundance of Thy grace;Keep far our foes; give peace at home;
Where Thou art Guide, no ill can come."
Then the organ swelled into full power, pealing out the theme of the last verse without its words, and allowing those he had sung to repeat themselves over and over in Jane's mind: "Where Thou art Guide, no ill can come." Had she not prayed for guidance? Then surely all would be well.
She paused at the entrance to the chancel.Garth had returned to the second verse, and was singing again, to a waldflute accompaniment, "Enable with perpetual light--."Jane seated herself in one of the old oak stalls and looked around her.The brilliant sunshine from without entered through the stained-glass windows, mellowed into golden beams of soft amber light, with here and there a shaft of crimson.What a beautiful expression--perpetual light! As Garth sang it, each syllable seemed to pierce the silence like a ray of purest sunlight."The dulness of--" Jane could just see the top of his dark head over the heavy brocade of the organ curtain.She dreaded the moment when he should turn, and those vivid eyes should catch sight of her--"our blinded sight." How would he take what she must say? Would she have strength to come through a long hard scene? Would he be tragically heart-broken?--"Anoint and cheer our soiled face"--Would he argue, and insist, and override her judgment?--"With the abundance of Thy grace"--Could she oppose his fierce strength, if he chose to exert it? Would they either of them come through so hard a time without wounding each other terribly?--"Keep far our foes; give peace at home"--Oh! what could she say? What would he say? How should she answer? What reason could she give for her refusal which Garth would ever take as final?--"Where Thou art Guide, no ill can come."And then, after a few soft, impromptu chords; the theme changed.
Jane's heart stood still.Garth was playing "The Rosary." He did not sing it; but the soft insistence of the organ pipes seemed to press the words into the air, as no voice could have done.Memory's pearls, in all the purity of their gleaming preciousness, were counted one by one by the flute and dulciana; and the sadder tones of the waldflute proclaimed the finding of the cross.It all held a new meaning for Jane, who looked helplessly round, as if seeking some way of escape from the sad sweetness of sound which filled the little church.
Suddenly it ceased.Garth stood up, turned, and saw her.The glory of a great joy leaped into his face.
"All right, Jimmy," he said; "that will do for this morning.And here is a bright sixpence, because you have managed the blowing so well.Hullo! It's a shilling! Never mind.You shall have it because it is such a glorious day.There never was such a day, Jimmy; and Iwant you to be happy also.Now run off quickly, and shut the church door behind you, my boy."Ah! how his voice, with its ring of buoyant gladness, shook her soul.
The red-headed boy, rather grubby, with a whole pepper-pot of freckles, but a beaming face of pleasure, came out from behind the organ, clattered down a side aisle; dropped his shilling on the way and had to find it; but at last went out, the heavy door closing behind him with a resounding clang.
Garth had remained standing beside the organ, quite motionless, without looking at Jane, and now that they were absolutely alone in the church, he still stood and waited a few moments.To Jane those moments seemed days, weeks, years, an eternity.Then he came out into the centre of the chancel, his head erect, his eyes shining, his whole bearing that of a conqueror sure of his victory.He walked down to the quaintly carved oaken screen and, passing beneath it, stood at the step.Then he signed to Jane to come and stand beside him.
