The Fourth Watch

by H. A. Cody

Just then the bell rang out its last call, and they entered the church with others.

Parson John looked greyer than usual as he conducted the service and stood at the lectern to read the Lessons. But his voice was as sweet and musical as ever, though now a note of pathos could be detected. His step was slow and feeble as he mounted the pulpit, and a yearning look came into his face as he glanced over the rows of heads before him.

"Remember my bonds," was the text he took this morning, and without a note to guide him, he looked into the numerous faces, and delivered his brief message. A breathless silence pervaded the sanctuary as he proceeded to draw a picture of St. Paul, the great champion of the faith, in his old age enduring affliction, and appealing to his flock to remember his bonds. The arm of the parson still in the sling, and the knowledge the people had of the reports circulated about him, added much to the intense impressiveness of the scene. For about fifteen minutes he spoke in a clear, steady voice. Then his right hand clutched the top of the pulpit, while his voice sank and faltered. "Brethren," he said, straightening himself up with an effort, "St. Paul had his bonds, which were hard for him to bear; the bond of suffering, the bond of loneliness, and the bond of old age. You, too, have bonds, and will have them. But how sweet to know that your friends and loved ones will remember your bonds, will understand your sufferings, peculiarities, and will sympathize with you, and be considerate. I, too, have bonds: the bond of unfitness for my great work, and the bond of old age. These two shackle and impede me in the Master's cause. But I ask you to think not so much of these as of another which binds me soul and body--it is the bond of love. I look into your faces this morning, and think of the many years I have laboured among you in evil report and good report. I have learned to love you, and now that love is my greatest bond, for it enwraps my very heart. When parents see their darling child turn against them, their love to him is the hardest bond to bear, because they cannot sever it. They remember him as a babe in arms, as a little, clinging, prattling child. They think of what they have done and suffered for his sake and how the cord of love has been silently woven through the years. My love to you is my greatest bond, and, though some may grow cold, some may scoff, and some repudiate, never let the lips of any say that your rector, your old grey-headed pastor, now in his fourth and last watch, ever ceased in his love to his little flock."

There was a diversity of opinion among the listeners to these pathetic words, which was quite noticeable as the congregation filed out of the church. The eyes of some were red, showing the intensity of their emotion, while others shone with a scornful light.

"The parson fairly upset me to-day!" blurted out one burly fellow. "I heven't been so moved sense the day I laid me old mother to rest in the graveyard over yonder."

"Upset, did ye say?" replied another, turning suddenly upon him. "What was there to upset ye in that?"

"Why, the way the parson spoke and looked."

"Umph! He was only acting his part. He was trying to work upon our feelings, that was all. Ah, he is a cute one, that. Did ye hear what he said about the bond of love? Ha, ha! That's a good joke."

There was one, however, who felt the words more deeply than all the others. This was Nellie, who sat straight upright in her pew, and watched her father's every movement. She did not shed a tear, but her hands were firmly clasped in her lap and her face was as pale as death. As soon as the service was over she hurried into the vestry, helped her father off with his robes, and then supported his feeble steps back to the Rectory. She made no reference to the sermon, but endeavoured to divert her father's mind into a different channel. She set about preparing their light midday repast, talked and chatted at the table, and exhibited none of the heaviness which pressed upon her heart. Only after she had coaxed her father to lie down, and knew that he had passed into a gentle sleep, did she give way to her pent-up feelings. How her heart did ache as she sat there alone in the room, and thought of her father standing in the pulpit uttering those pathetic words.

Thursday, the day of the investigation, dawned bright and clear. Not a breath of wind stirred the air. It was one of those balmy spring days when it is good to be out-of-doors drinking in freshness and strength.