Christie, the King's Servant / A Sequel to "Christie's Old Organ"

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

'No,' I said, 'it isn't that—I love to talk of her; I love to hear of her; everything she said is precious to me; it isn't that.'

'What then?' he said; 'what troubles you, Jack?'

'It's the thought that I shall never see her again,' I said; 'I know I shall not. She went one way and I am going another.'

'Why not turn round and go her way, Jack?' he said cheerily.

'Oh, I can't,' I said; 'it's no use—I can't turn. There are too many hands on the wrong end of the rope. I've been miserable ever since I heard you talk of it. I could not sleep last night for thinking of it. "What are the depths, the fearful depths, to which you are being drawn?" those words have never left me, night or day, since you uttered them. I have tried to shake them off, but I can't.'

'Don't attempt to shake them off,' he said. 'Oh, Jack, don't try to do it, for they are the voice of the Spirit of God. But listen to-night to the One who is calling you. "Come over the line—it is only a step. Come over the line to Me."'

'I wish I could,' I said.

'You can do it, and you must do it, Jack,' he said firmly, 'before you leave this room.'

'Before I leave this room?'

'Yes, this very instant,' he said.