Gladly he entered the forest road, thankful to leave the town behind him. The terrible trials still continued. Only that morning he had seen two persons hanged, and there was a rumour that a ship infected with smallpox had entered the harbour.
He walked slowly, leaning on his stick, for he was yet very lame. The greenness and peace of the majestic forest were grateful to him. Soon he came in sight of Master Wentworth’s home. In the open doorway he saw Deliverance seated at her spinning-wheel, singing as she guided the thread.
Already the roses bloomed again in the little maid’s face, and never was heart so free from sorrow as hers, save for that touch of yearning which came to her whenever her glance rested on her father, who, since his illness, was gentler and quieter than ever, seldom entering the still-room, and devoting many hours to sitting on the stoop, dreaming in the sunshine.
Master Ronald had not yet returned to Boston Town, loath to leave his little sister, still fearful for her safety, not knowing in which direction the wind of public opinion might veer.
Glancing up from his book this afternoon, as he lay on the grass, under the shade of a tree, he saw Lord Christopher approaching. So he rose quickly, and went down to the gate to greet the great physician.
And the two, Lord Christopher leaning heavily on the student’s arm, for he was wearied by his walk, went up the path to where little Deliverance sat spinning.
Lord Christopher had a long talk with Master Wentworth this afternoon and at the end of their conversation, the latter called his children to him.
“Ronald,” he said, “and you, my little Deliverance, Lord Christopher urges me to return to England where he promises me, my lad, that you shall have all advantage in the way of scholarly pursuits, and that you, Deliverance, shall be brought up to be his daughter’s companion. What say you both? The question is one which you must decide. I,” he added sadly, yet with a wondrous sweetness in his face, “will not abide many years longer with you; and my future is not in England, but in a fairer land, and the sea I must cross greater than the one you know, so I would fain leave you with a protector in this harsh world.”
A long silence followed his words. Then Ronald spoke. “Sir, I have none other wish than to continue in this country in which I was born and which has ever been my home. Surely I know the constant toil, the perils from savages and wild beasts, the stern laws we Puritans have made for each little sin, alas! the hardships too often known, and the gloom of our serious thought which o’ershadows all. Yet through this sombre sky, the sun will shine at last as brightly as it shines in England. In the University that has nourished in me patriotism and liberty of thought, I have grown to believe that here in this wilderness is the basis for a greater England than the England across the seas.”
The student’s face glowed with ardour, his eyes were brilliant as if he saw visions the others comprehended not.