Название: Foxglove Manor (Vol. 1-3)
Автор: Robert Williams Buchanan
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066399702
isbn:
He looked at them with his glazed blue eyes, made prominent with pain, and his moaning grew louder, till they could again distinguish the constant cry for release from pain: “Oh, what shall I do? Oh, who’ll tell me what to do?”
“Try to think of God, and pray to Him for help,” said the vicar, bending over the suffering man.
“Oh, I have prayed and prayed and prayed,” he replied querulously; “but it does no good.”
“He were praying all day yesterday and singing hymns,” said Mrs. Mans-held. “I don’t know what’s gotten hold of him to-day, but he have been dreadful. And he were ever such a pious, God-fearing man. It fair breaks my heart to hear him swearing like that. But God will not count it against him, for he’s been clean beside himself.”
“Well, let me hear you pray now, Mansfield,” said the vicar. “Turn your heart and your mind to God, and He will comfort you.”
“O God,” said the sick man, with the obedient simplicity of a child, “I turn my heart and my mind to Thee; do Thou comfort me and take me to Thyself. O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God and Saviour of mankind, do Thou remember me in Thy paradise. Look down upon me, O Lord, a miserable offender, and spare Thou them which confess their faults and are truly penitent.”
With a strange light on his white, wasted face, with his gaunt hands folded on the counterpane before him, the old man sat up in bed and prayed in the same loud voice of pain and semi-delirium. A wild, inconceivable, interminable prayer; for long after they had left the house, old Mansfield could be heard some hundreds of yards away, screaming to God for mercy and consolation.
“We had better leave him praying,” said the vicar softly; “and when he begins cursing and swearing again, Mrs. Mansfield, just kneel down and pray in a loud voice beside him. It will suggest a new current to his thoughts.”
“God won’t count his cursing against him, sir, will he?” asked the little woman. “He were ever a sober Christian man till this misery came on him.”
“No, no,” said the vicar; “God judges the heart, not the tongue of delirium.”
“How old is your husband?” inquired Mrs. Haldane.
“He be eighty-one come Martinmas, ma’am.”
“Poor old man! And you do sewing and knitting, do you not?”
“Yes, ma’am, what he lets me do. He be main fractious whiles.”
“And have you plenty to go on with at present?”
“I have what’ll keep me busy for a fortnight yet.”
“I will see you again before then. I hope your husband will soon be better.”
“There be no hope of that, ma’am. The only betterness for him ‘ll be when God takes him.”
“I know you will be able to find a use for this,” said Mrs. Haldane in a whisper, as they went, out of the house. “Goodbye for the present.”
“Oh, ma’am! God bless you!” said Mrs. Mansfield, the tears springing into her eyes as she looked at the gold coin in her hand.
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