A Knight of the Nineteenth Century | Page 7

I fear
there was a self-sufficiency in my words and mariner yesterday, which
made you conscious of Dr. Marks only, and you had no scruples in
dealing with Dr. Marks as you did. If my words and bearing had
brought you face to face with my august yet merciful Master, you
would have respected Him, and also me, His servant. I confess that I
was very angry this morning, for I am human. But now I am more
concerned lest I have prejudiced you against Him by whom alone we
all are saved. Yours faithfully,
"ZEBULON MARKS."
The moment Haldane finished reading the note he left the room, and
his mother heard him at the hat-rack in the hall, preparing to go out.
She, supposing that he was again about to seek some of his evil haunts,
remonstrated sharply; but, without paying the slightest attention to her
words, he departed, and within less than half an hour rang the bell at
the parsonage.
Dr. Marks could scarcely believe his eyes as the young man was shown
into his study, but he welcomed him as cordially as though nothing
unpleasant had occurred between them.
After a moment's hesitation and embarrassment Haldane began:
"When I read your note this evening I had not the slightest doubt that I
was the one to apologize, and I sincerely ask your pardon."
The old gentleman's eyes grew moist, and he blew his nose in a rather
unusual manner. But he said promptly:
"Thank you, my young friend, thank you. I appreciate this. But no
matter about me. How about my Master? won't you become reconciled
to Him?"

"I suppose by that you mean, won't you be a Christian?"
"That is just what I mean and most desire. I should be willing to risk
broken bones any day to accomplish that."
Haldane smiled, shook his head, and after a moment said:
"I must confess that I have not the slightest wish to become a
Christian."
The old gentleman's eager and interested expression changed instantly
to one of the deepest sorrow and commiseration. At the same time he
appeared bewildered and perplexed, but murmured, more in soliloquy
than as an address to the young man:
"O Ephraim! how shall I give thee up?"
Haldane was touched by the venerable man's tone and manner, more
than he would have thought possible, and, feeling that he could not
trust himself any longer, determined to make his escape as soon as
practicable. But as he rose to take his leave he said, a little impulsively:
"I feel sure, sir, that if you had spoken and looked yesterday as you do
this evening I would not have--I would not have--"
"I understand, my young friend; I now feel sure that I was more to
blame than yourself, and your part is already forgiven and forgotten. I
am now only solicitous about you."
"You are very kind to feel so after what has happened, and I will say
this much--If I ever do wish to become a Christian, there is no one
living to whom I will come for counsel more quickly than yourself.
Good-night, sir."
"Give me your hand before you go."
It was a strong, warm, lingering grasp that the old man gave, and in the
dark days of temptation that followed, Haldane often felt that it had a
helping and sustaining influence.

"I wish I could hold on to you," said the doctor huskily; "I wish I could
lead you by loving force into the paths of pleasantness and peace. But
what I can't do, God can. Good-by, and God bless you."
Haldane fled rather precipitously, for he felt that he was becoming
constrained by a loving violence that was as mysterious as it was
powerful. Before he had passed through the main street of the town,
however, a reckless companion placed an arm in his, and led him to one
of their haunts, where he drank deeper than usual, that he might get rid
of the compunctions which the recent interview had occasioned.
His mother was almost in despair when he returned. He had, indeed,
become to her a terrible and perplexing problem. As she considered the
legitimate results of her own weak indulgence she would sigh again
and again:
"Never was there a darker and more mysterious providence. I feel that I
can neither understand it nor submit."
A sense of helplessness in dealing with this stubborn and perverse will
overwhelmed her, and, while feeling that something must be done, she
was at a loss what to do. Her spiritual adviser having failed to meet the
case, she next summoned her legal counsellor, who managed her
property.
He was a man of few words, and an adept in worldly wisdom.
"Your son should have employment," he said;
"'Satan finds