It carried the Colonel back, back to that time, now nearly two years since, when on just such a night as this, with those same mingling voices sounding in his ears, peace and rest had flowed in on his troubled soul; when striving to reach the light pointed out by the beloved little messenger beside him, he had laid hold upon the cross, and felt its brightness all about him. Its rays had beamed clearly for him ever since; for he knew from whence they shone, and that they should never fail him.
The baby slept, and the young mother’s voice ceased as she laid it in its cradle: but its father sat on, with the music still sounding in his heart; and, as if the holy spell were on them too, his little companions sat as motionless and silent,—Maggie leaning on his knee, Bessie with her hand nestled in his, her head laid lovingly against his arm.
Suddenly, some one threw back a blind from the library-window, and a stream of light was thrown from within upon the sunny, brown curls which lay against the Colonel’s shoulder. He looked down at her.
“Bessie, what were you thinking of, darling?” he asked, as he saw the wistful face and earnest eyes, which seemed as if they saw beyond the stars.
“A good many things, Uncle Horace,” answered the little one. “I thought about Belle, and how glad her mamma must be to see how hard she tries to be good, and I know it is hard for Belle to be good sometimes; and about heaven and Jesus. And then I thought about our travels, and how good our Father in heaven has been to us, and how I wished I could do something very much for Him; and then—and then—Uncle Horace, I don’t know what made me, I think it was the sound of the waves—I thought about one night at Quam Beach, when I lay awake a great while, and looked out at the stars and heard the waves making just such a soft sound—and—and—I was saying a good many little prayers about you, Uncle Horace: it was the night before the next morning when you told me you had found Jesus, and was going to be His soldier.”
There was no answer in words; but his arm found its way around her, and clasped her closer, and when the brave soldier could steady his voice, it was to Maggie he spoke.
“And what was my honey-bee thinking of, to keep her so quiet?”
“I was thinking of our travels too, Uncle Horace,” answered Maggie; “but not in such a very superior manner as Bessie. I was thinking what a lovely time we have had all these months; and now how glad I am that papa and mamma have come to decision to stay in Newport till it is time to go home in the autumn. I like Chalecoo; but I’d rather stay in this lovely place than to go anywhere else. And now our travels are done.”
“For the present, yes,” said the Colonel; “but we have all still one road to keep, one journey to go, dear Maggie: that journey that shall end at last in our Father’s house.”