"But wait. Suppose, by forgiving in act as well as heart, I went back presently. Then I might save Jacob himself."
"Oh, the cunning of the Enemy—the craft—the sleepless cleverness! No, you can't save Jacob Bullstone; but you can lose yourself. There's always the chance of losing yourself while breath is in your body, and Lucifer knows it, and he'll often win at the last gasp on a man's deathbed. He's proud, remember, and his pride leads him to try the difficult things. Can't you see? How is it so few can see the net he weaves, while the lotion of the Gospel's at everybody's hand to wash their eyes clear if they would? He's vain as a peacock and likes to do the difficult things and catch the souls in sight of Heaven's gates. I know; I read him; not many women have conned over his ways like I have. And now he's saying 'Jacob Bullstone is mine—a gift from his youth up—and there's no cleverness in keeping your own; but the woman he's cast down is not mine.' And your soul would be worth the winning. And what's cleverer than to make you think you can save your doomed husband's soul when, to try, would be to lose your own? You'd best to pray on your knees about this and call loudly on your Saviour. I'm a lot put about to hear of such dreadful thoughts. They've crept in through the chinks in the armour of salvation, Margery, and you must look to it this instant moment."
"There's a human side, mother. The man has been called to face death. He lies there in hospital and——"
"And where did he fling you to lie? Where was hospital for the ills you have suffered and the death you have died? There is a human side, and to return good for evil is our duty; but there's a higher duty than that. Don't argue. I know all about the human side; but humanity was never yet called upon to risk its immortality and hope of salvation. I'll hear no more touching this at all, Margery. I'm suffering for you a good bit. I've failed to make the truth clear seemingly."
"No, no, you haven't failed. I know how you view it."
"Set your trust where only trust can be set," said Mrs. Huxam, "and trust your God, like a little child, to show you, in His good time, how your future life's got to go. And first He wills for you to get up your health of mind and body. Your mind before everything. Your body's nought; but your mind's sick—far, far sicker than I thought—and we must see to it. There's fighting to be done and we'll fight. I thought all that was over; but the devil smells a sick soul, like a cat smells fish, and I might have known there was danger lurking."
They returned home, to find that somebody had called upon Margery's mother. Old William Marydrew awaited them in his Sunday black.
Margery he welcomed kindly, though she responded in doubt; but Mrs. Huxam, who knew the ancient man for her son-in-law's friend, showed open suspicion and seemed little inclined to grant the speech he begged.
"I've no quarrel with you," she said, "and I very well remember your godly daughter, for Mercy Marydrew had the light; but——"
"The better the day the better the deed," ventured Billy. "Don't stand against me till you've heard me. I don't come from Mr. Bullstone. I'm here on my own—for a friendly tell—and I hope you'll respect my age and give ear to what I'd like to say."