But what if the nine remaining men were dead! drowned. I knew the colliers were working with might and main, through that slow, torturing passage, the solid coal, to reach them. But what if, after all their efforts, they were only met by death!
Down on my knees in my room, beside the coffin that contained what was mortal of David’s little lad, I thought these thoughts of David. Down on my knees, I say, but not to pray. I was in a wild state of rebellion; it seemed to me that the events of the last few days had put the whole world into a state of chaos—a state of confusion so great, that even God Himself could never put it straight again. As this was so, why should I pray to Him? I had never in days of happiness made myself acquainted with God. How could I go to Him in my misery?
I was angry with God. He had been too hard on us. What had we done that He should crush us to the earth?
In a few days what had not befallen us? The sudden and terrible death of David’s only little child! Gwen’s accident! Owen’s disappearance! Now David himself probably dead.
Yes, truly, a whirlwind of destruction had encompassed us; but the Lord was not in the wind.
Raising my head with my mind full of these thoughts, my eyes again fell upon the happy, smiling face of the dead child. The little face seemed to say more eloquently than words, “Yes, God has done all this to you; but He is good—He is very good!”
The face of the baby made me cry; and my tears, without then in any way turning me consciously towards my Father, eased my heart. I was wiping them away, when the handle of the door was turned, and Nan came in. This was no time for ceremony, and Nan made none.
“The men are not all drowned, Miss Morgan; my father and the other workers have heard knockings, very faint like, and a long way off; but still, that is what they want.”
“Oh! Nan, is it possible? Is it possible that they’ll all be saved? Oh! I cannot believe it!” and I burst into tears.
“Now isn’t that wrong and faithless?” said the little girl, taking my hand. “Ain’t this a time to exercise faith? Why, there ain’t a man there—no, not a man, as won’t work with a will. Why, when father come up, he had the blood streaming from his hands. I tell you, Miss Morgan, there’s no halting when we looks to bring h’out our brothers and sons!”