قراءة كتاب The King's Daughters
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shoulders will never hold the world, nor even thy father’s cottage. Hast thou forgot what thou saidst not an half-hour gone, that God takes care of you all?”
“Oh yes, He takes big care of us,” was Cissy’s answer. “He’ll see that we have meat and clothes and so forth, and that Father gets work. But He’ll hardly keep Will and Baby out of mischief, will He? Isn’t that too little for Him?”
“The whole world is but a speck, little Cicely, compared with Him. If He will humble Himself to see thee and me at all, I reckon He is as like to keep Will out of mischief as to keep him alive. It is the very greatness of God that He can attend to all the little things in the world at once. They are all little things to Him. Hast thou not heard that the Lord Jesus said the very hairs of our heads be numbered?”
“Yea, Sir Thomas read that one eve at Ursula’s.”
Sir Thomas Tye was the Vicar of Much Bentley.
“Well,” said Rose, “and isn’t it of more importance to make Will a good lad than to know how many hairs he’s got on his head? Wouldn’t thy father think so?”
“For sure he would,” said Cissy earnestly.
“And isn’t God thy Father?”
Just as Rose asked that, a tall, dark figure turned out of a lane they were passing, and joined them. It was growing dusk, but Rose recognised the Vicar of whom they had just been speaking. Most priests were called “Sir” in those days.
“Christ bless you, my children!” said the Vicar.
Both Rose and Cissy made low courtesies, for great respect was then paid to a clergyman. They called them priests, for very few could read the Bible, which tells us that the only priest is our Lord Jesus Christ. A priest does not mean the same thing as a clergyman, though too many people thoughtlessly speak as if it did. A priest is a man who offers a sacrifice of some living thing to God. So, as Jesus Christ, who offered Himself, is our sacrifice, and there can never be any other, there cannot be any priests now. There are a great many texts which tell us this, but I will only mention one, which you can look out in your Bibles and learn by heart: the tenth verse of the tenth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews. It is easy to remember two tens.
Cissy was a little frightened when she saw that Sir Thomas walked on with them; but Rose marched on as if she did not care whether he came or not. For about a year after Queen Mary’s accession Sir Thomas had come pretty regularly to the prayer-meetings which were held sometimes at the Blue Bell, and sometimes at Ursula Felstede’s at Thorpe, and also sometimes at John Love’s on the Heath. He often read the Bible to them, and gave them little sermons, and seemed as kind and pleasant as possible. But when Queen Mary had been about a year on the throne, and it could be plainly seen which way things were going—that is, that she would try to bring back the Popish religion which her brother had cast off—Sir Thomas began to come less often. He found it too far to John Love’s and to Thorpe; and whenever the meeting was at the Blue Bell, which was only a few hundred yards from the Vicarage,—well, it certainly was odd that Sir Thomas was always poorly on that night. Still, nobody liked to think that he was making believe; but Alice Mount said so openly, and Rose had heard her.
Chapter Five.
In difficulties.
Cissy Johnson was not old enough to understand all the reasons why her father distrusted the priest; but she knew well that “Father didn’t like him,” and like the dutiful little girl she was, she was resolved not to make a friend of any one whom her father disliked, for she knew that he might have good reasons which she could not understand. But Cissy had been taught to be civil to everybody, and respectful to her betters—lessons of which a little more would not hurt some folks in the present day. People make a great mistake who think that you cannot both be respectful to others and independent for yourself. The Bible teaches us to do both. Being in this state of mind, Cissy was decidedly pleased to see her father coming up from the other end of the lane.
“Oh, here’s Father!” she said to Rose; and little Will ran on joyfully to meet him.
“Well, my lad!” was Johnson’s greeting to his boy. “So thou and Cissy have got back? It’s a right long way for such as thou.”
Little Will suddenly remembered that he was exceedingly tired, and said so.
“Thou’d better go to bed,” said her father, as they came up with the girls. “Well, Cis, who hast thou picked up?—I’m right thankful to you,” he added, looking at Rose, “for giving my little maid a helping hand. It’s a long way for such little ones, all the way from the Heath, and a heavy load for little arms, and I’m main thankful. Will you come in a bit and rest you?” he said to Rose.
But Rose declined, for she knew her mother would expect her to come back at once. She kissed Cissy, and told her, whenever she had a load to carry either way, to be sure she looked in at the Blue Bell, when Rose would help her if she possibly could: and giving the jar to Johnson, she bade him good-night, and turned back up the lane. Sir Thomas had walked on, as Rose supposed: at any rate, he was not to be seen. She went nearly a mile without seeing any one, until Margaret Thurston’s cottage came in sight. As Rose began to go a little more slowly, she heard footsteps behind her, and the next minute she was joined—to her surprise—by the priest.
“My daughter,” he said, in a soft, kind voice, “I think thou art Rose Allen?”
Rose dropped a courtesy, and said she was.
“I have been wishful to speak with some of thy father’s household,” said Sir Thomas, in the same gentle way: “so that I am fain to meet thee forth this even. Tell me, my child, is there illness in the house or no?”
Rose breathed quickly: she guessed pretty well what was coming.
“No, Father,” she answered; “we are all in good health, God be thanked for that same.”
“Truly. I am glad to hear thee so speak, my daughter, and in especial that thou rememberest to thank God. But wherefore, then, being in good health, have ye not come to give thanks to God in His own house, these eight Sundays past? Ye have been regular aforetime, since ye were back from the Bishop’s Court. Surely it is not true—I do hope and trust it is not true, that ye be slipping yet again into your past evil ways of ill opinions and presumptuous sin?”
The reason why the Mounts had not been to church was because the services were such as they could no longer join in. Queen Mary had brought back the Popish mass, and all the images which King Edward had done away with; so that to go to church was not to worship God but to worship idols. And so terrible was the persecution Mary had allowed to be set up, that the penalty for refusing to do this was to be burnt to death for what she called heresy.
It was a terrible position for a young girl in which Rose Allen stood that night. This man not only held her life in his hands, but also those of her mother and her step-father. If he chose to inform against them, the end of it might be death by fire. For one moment Rose was silent, during which she cried silently but most earnestly to God for wisdom and courage—wisdom to keep her from saying what might bring them into needless danger, and courage to stand true and firm to God and His truth.
“Might I be so bold as to pray you, Father,” she said at last, “to ask at my mother the cause of such absence from mass? You wot I am but a young maid, and under direction of mine elders.”
Sir Thomas Tye smiled to himself. He thought Rose a very cautious, prudent girl, who did not want to bring herself into trouble.
“So be it, my daughter,” said he in the same gentle way. “Doubtless it was by direction of thine elders that then