Chapter L.
Clare seeks help.
Clare got out of the crowd, and was soon beyond sight of anyone that
knew what had taken place, his heart exulting that he had saved his
friend who trusted in him. He hurried on, heedless whither, his only
thought to get away from the man that would murder Abby; and the town
was a long way behind ere the question of what they were to do for
supper and shelter presented itself. This had grown a strange thought,
so long had the caravan been to him a house of warmth and plenty. But
comfort has its disadvantages; and Clare discovered, with some dismay,
that he was not quite so free as ere the luxurious life of the last
few weeks began: both Abby and he would be less able, he feared, to
bear hunger and cold. It was but to start afresh, however, and grow
abler! One consolation was, that, if they felt hunger more, it could
not do them so much harm: they had more capital to go upon. He must
not gather cowardice instead of courage from a season of prosperity!
He was glad for Abdiel, though, that he grew his own clothes: he had
left his warmest behind him.
It made him ashamed to find himself regretting his clothes when he had
lost a mother! Then it pleased him to think that she had his
sovereign, and the wages due since his clothes were paid for. They
would help to give Glum Gunn his own, and set the beasts free from
him! Then he would go back and spend his life with his mother and
Pummy! Poor Pummy! But though Gunn hated him, he was now afraid of him
too; and his fear would be the creature's protection! He had imagined
it his might that cowed the puma, when it was the animal's human
gentleness that made him submissive to man: he knew better now! Clare
clasped Abdiel to his bosom, and trudged on. They had gone miles ere
it occurred to him that it might be more comfortable for both if each
carried his individual burden. He set Abdiel down, and the dog ran
vibrating with pleasure. Clare felt himself set down, but with no tail
to wag.
It was late in the autumn: they could do without supper, but they must
if possible find shelter! A farm-house came in sight. It recalled so
vividly Clare's early experiences of houselessness, that beasts and
caravans, his mother and Glum Gunn, grew hazy and distant, and the old
time drew so near that he seemed to have waked into it out of a long
dream. They were back in the old misery--a misery in which, however,
his heart had not been pierced as now with the pangs of innocent
creatures unable or unwilling to defend themselves from their natural
guardian! It was long before he learned that for weeks Gunn was unable
to hurt one of them; that his drinking, his late wound, and the blow
Clare had given him, brought on him a severe attack of erysipelas.
When they reached the farm-yard, Clare knew by the aspect of things
that the cattle were housed and the horses suppered. He crept unseen
into one of the cow-houses: the bodies and breath of the animals would
keep them warm! How sweet the smell seemed to him after that of the
caravans! An empty stall was before him, like a chamber prepared for
his need. He gathered a few straws from under each of the cows, taking
care that not one of them should be the less comfortable, and spread
with them for Abby and himself a thin couch.
But with the excitement of what had happened, his wonder as to what
would come next, and the hunger that had begun to gnaw at him, Clare
could not sleep. And as he lay awake, thoughts came to him.
Whence do the thoughts come to us? Of one thing I am sure--that I do
not make or even send for my own thoughts. If some greater one did not
think about us, we should not think about anything. Then what a wonder
is the night! How it works compelling people to think! Surely somehow
God comes nearer in the night! Clare began to think how helpless he
was. He was not thinking of food and warmth, but of doing things for
the beings he loved. It seemed to him hard that he could but love, and
nothing more. There was his mother! he could do nothing to deliver her
from that villainous brother-in-law! There was Pummy, exposed to the
cruelty of the same evil man! and again he could do nothing for him!
There was Maly! he could do nothing for her--nothing to make her
father and mother glad for her up in the dome of the angels!
Was it possible that he really could do nothing?
Then came the thought that people used to say prayers in the days when
he went with his mother to church. He had been taught to say prayers
himself, but had begun to forget them when there was no bed to kneel
beside. What did saying prayers mean? In the Bible-stories people
prayed when they were in trouble and could not help themselves! Did it
matter that he had no church and no bedside? Surely one place must be
as good as another, if it was true that God was everywhere! Surely he
could hear him wherever he spoke! Neither could there be any necessity
for speaking loud! God would hear, however low he spoke! Then he
remembered that God knew the thoughts of his creatures: if so, he
might think a prayer to him; there was no need for any words!
From the moment of that conclusion, Clare began to pray to God. And
now he prayed the right kind of prayer; that is, his prayers were real
prayers; he asked for what he wanted. To say prayers asking God for
things we do not care about, is to mock him. When we ask for something
we want, it may be a thing God does not care to give us; but he likes
us to speak to him about it. If it is good for us, he will give it us;
if it is not good, he will not give it to us, for it would hurt
us. But Clare only asked God to do what he is always doing: his prayer
was that God would be good to all his mothers, and to his two fathers,
and Mr. Halliwell, and Maly, and Sarah, and his own baby, and
Tommy--and poor Pummy, and would, if Glum Gunn beat him, help him to
bear the blows, and not mind them very much. He ended with something
like this:
"God, I can't do anything for anybody! I wish I could! You can get
near them, God: please do something good to every one of them because
I can't. I think I could go to sleep now, if I were sure you had
listened!"
Having thus cast all his cares on God, he did go to sleep; and woke in
the morning ready for the new day that arrived with his waking.
