John Banks went on to the last house he had to visit—the little house by the Second Acre Close. Roger Hall opened the door himself. Banks stepped in, and as the light of the hall lantern fell upon his face, Roger uttered an exclamation of pain and fear.
“Jack! Thy face—”
“Hath my face spoken to you, Master Hall, afore my tongue could frame so to do? Perchance it is best so. Hold your hand.”
Roger obeyed mechanically, and Banks laid on the hand held forth the long white lace.
“For you,” he said, his voice broken by emotion. John Banks’ nerves were pretty well worn out by that day’s work, as well they might be. “She gave it me for you—at the last. She bade me say it was the last bond she was bound with—except that chain.”
“Thank God!” were the first words that broke from the brother who loved Alice so dearly. The Christian spoke them; but the next moment the man came uppermost, and an exceeding bitter cry of “O Alice, Alice!” followed the thanksgiving of faith.
“It is over,” said Banks, in a husky voice. “She ‘shall never see evil any more.’”
But he knew well that he could give no comfort to that stricken heart. Quietly, and quickly, he laid down the new shilling, with its message for the poor old father; and then without another word—not even saying “good-night,” he went out and closed the door behind him. Only God could speak comfort to Roger and Christabel in that dark hour. Only God could help poor Roger to tell Christie that she would never see her dear Aunt Alice any more until she should clasp hands with her on the street of the Golden City, and under the shade of the Tree of Life. And God would help him: John Banks was quite sure of that. But as he stepped out into the summer night, it seemed almost as if he could see a vision—as if the outward circumstances in which he had beheld the trio were prophetic—Alice in the glory of the great light, Roger with his way shown clearly by the little lamp of God’s Word, and Edward in that black shadow, made lurid and more awful by the faint unearthly light. The moon came out brightly from behind a cloud, just as Banks lifted his eyes upwards.
“Good God, forgive us all!” he said earnestly, “and help all that need Thee!”
Alice was above all help, and Roger was sure of help. But who or what could help Edward Benden save the sovereign mercy of God?