"I know it: you have others, you have another to think of,—No; you share our peril, and unless you share also our strong consolation you will be as those that go down into the pit, and your heart will die within you. Remember, you must trust God, and trust Him utterly. In all the generations He has never yet broken faith with one man who trusted Him so. He will bring you up out of the depths again, and you shall behold His righteousness, and one day you shall see His face with joy, and know wherefore He let these things come upon us."
The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Vartan and a younger boy, bringing coffee and sweetmeats. The Pastor drew the little one towards him, saying in Armenian, "Tell the English Effendi, Armenag, what our fathers in St. Vartan's day said to the Persians, when they bade them deny the Lord Jesus."
The child answered steadily, and as if he meant every word: "Ask us no more, for the covenant of our faith is not with man, but with God, for whom there is no separation or departure, neither now, nor ever, nor for ever, nor for ever and ever."
"And what has God said to them, and to us?"
The boy's young voice rang clear and high as he repeated his well-remembered lesson. "'The mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed, but My kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of My peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee. O thou afflicted, tossed with tempest and not comforted, behold, I will lay thy stones with fair colours, and lay thy foundations with sapphires. And I will make thy windows of agates, and thy gates of carbuncles, and all thy borders of pleasant stones.'"
"I teach my children words like these," the Pastor said, reverting to English, "that they may know we are watchers for the morning. Which assuredly our eyes shall see, here or elsewhere," he added with a bright glance upwards.
Jack sat in silence for a space. Then, rising to take his leave, he grasped and wrung the Pastor's hand in true English fashion. "I will remember what you said about trusting God," he murmured.
"God, who is not only above you in heaven, but underneath you in the depths," the Pastor said. "There is no abyss you can sink into, where you cannot sink down on Him. And yet," he added with a smile, "I have good hopes of your safe return at last to your native land, along with your sweet bride Shushan, the daughter of our people. For you are an Englishman, and such are always protected here. And, when God gives you deliverance, think then of this Church of His, which is afflicted, tossed with tempests, and not comforted. May yours be the hand He uses to comfort her." Then, once more in Armenian, "Vartan, do you go with Mr. Grayson to his home; you can take him by the shortest way."
"Yes, father, but I want to tell you"—the boy lowered his voice—"Osman has just been here, to let us know privately we should not try to hold a meeting for thanksgiving to-night. The Zaptiehs will disperse it by force."
"I will see what ought to be done.—So much for the Reforms, Mr. Grayson. But do not speak of this. Osman is a young Turk who bears us good will, as I have told you some do; and an incautious word might bring him into trouble. Once more, farewell; God bless you."