For a moment Chisleu was taken so much by surprise, as he was not expecting one, that he started. Then he recognized him as one of a band of rebels whose names are Conceit, Self-Satisfaction, and Complacency, and at once he drew his sword, while at the same time he sang "'May Jesus Christ be praised,'" and at the sound of his singing and the sight of his sword, the enemy slunk away.
"Do you see that fellow?" asked Chisleu of Iddo, "I know him and his comrades of old. I think he has been particularly troublesome since I have learnt to sing, as I don't remember meeting him so often in the old days. It is because he hates me singing the King's songs. I expect," he added, "he looks out for every occasion to turn my song to his own advantage. I see I must be on the watch against him."
"I did not see the enemy," said Iddo, "I wonder why he attacked you while you were helping me."
"Perhaps just because I was helping you: and after all," added Chisleu thoughtfully, "if ever there is a chance for the enemy it is when we are talking of ourselves. We have to do it occasionally, I suppose, but very occasionally, and then we must remember that we do it at our own peril. Sometimes it is a duty to brave this danger for the sake of another; but often we think we are braving it for another's sake, while all the time it is for our own sake, that we may be thought well of, or in a spirit of self-congratulation. You see the words of the Guide Book are true,"
"'The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.'"
"But," said Iddo, "you always seem to me so good, surely there is no need for you to be so watchful."
Chisleu's face changed, as he turned and looked upon her with sternness.
"My child, don't do the enemy's work. He failed just now, and so he is trying to catch me through your lips. Never flatter."
Iddo was startled, and could not help comparing the intense earnestness of the soldier of the King, with the utter indifference she had been impressed with in the land she had left: and at the same time, Chisleu's face having regained its calm joy, she could not but contrast the peace and happiness written so plainly there and in the faces of the other pilgrims, who were walking so merrily on in front of her, with the artificial merriment of that land.
Everyone there had seemed to her, the more she knew them, to be making amusement their work rather than their recreation. She was sure it was sometimes real hard work. And when the excitement was over she had often seen a look of weariness on the faces of those who had worked the hardest to procure the fun.