Such a tale Margaret had never heard before. Tears of pity and tears of pride washed clean and clear-seeing the eyes that had too often wept only for herself. “Oh, Margaret! Margaret!” he said, “learn this—when it is God’s pleasure to save a man, the devil can not hinder, nor a cruel wife, nor false friends, nor total shipwreck, nor the murderer’s knife—all things must work together for it.”
“If God gives Jan back to me, I will love and honor him with all my heart and soul. I promise thee I will that.”
“See thou do. It will be thy privilege and thy duty.”
“Oh, why did thou not tell me all this before? It would have been good for me.”
“No, it would have been bad for thee. Thou has not suffered one hour longer than was necessary. Week by week, month by month, year by year, thy heart has been growing more humble and tender, more just and unselfish; but it was not until Snorro brought thee those poor despised love-gifts of Jan’s that thou wast humble and tender, and just, and unselfish enough to leave all and go and seek thy lost husband. But I am sure it was this way—the very hour this gracious thought came into thy heart thy captivity was turned. Now, then, from thy own experience thou can understand why God hides even a happy future from us. If we knew surely that fame or prosperity or happiness was coming, how haughty, how selfish, how impatient we should be.”
“I would like thee to go and tell my father all.”
“I will tell thee what thou must do—go home and tell the great news thyself.”
“I can not go into Suneva’s house. Thou should not ask that of me.”
“In the day of thy good fortune, be generous. Suneva Fae has a kind heart, and I blame thee much that there was trouble. Because 283 God has forgiven thee, go without a grudging thought, and say—‘Suneva, I was wrong, and I am sorry for the wrong; and I have good news, and want my father and thee to share it.’”