“Should be a weighty one,” said John. “What is it?”
“‘Remember!’”
“Ah!” John Thurston’s long-drawn exclamation, which ended with a heavy sigh, astonished Bartle.
“There’s more in it than I reckoned, seemingly,” said he as he turned to Margaret’s cell, and opened her wicket to pass in the supper.
“Here’s a message for you, Meg, from Master Ewring the miller. Let’s see what you’ll say to it—‘Remember!’”
“‘Remember!’” cried Margaret in a pained tone. “Don’t I always remember? isn’t it misery to me to remember? And can’t I guess what he means—‘Remember from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works’? Eh, then there’s repentance yet for them that have fallen! ‘I will fight against thee, except thou repent.’ God bless you, Bartle: you’ve given me a buffet and yet a hope.”
“That’s a proper powerful word, is that!” said Bartle. “Never knew one word do so much afore.”
There was more power in that one word from Holy Writ than Bartle guessed. The single word, sent home to their consciences by the Holy Ghost, brought quit different messages to the two to whom it was sent. To John Thurston it did not say, “Remember from whence thou hast fallen.” That was the message with which it was charged for Margaret. But to John it said, “Call to remembrance the former days, in which, after that ye were illuminated, ye endured a great flight of afflictions ... knowing in yourselves that ye have in Heaven a better and an enduring substance. Cast not away therefore your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward.” That was John’s message, and it found him just on the brink of casting his confidence away, and stopped him.
Mr Ewring had never spent an angelet better than in securing the transmission of that one word, which was the instrument in God’s hand to save two immortal souls.
As he reached the top of Tenant’s Lane, he met Ursula Felstede, carrying a large bundle, with which she tried to hide her face, and to slink past. The miller stopped.