CHAPTER XV.
A REMARKABLE EVENT.
It was night. The stars looked down from their blue dome upon the lamp-lit streets of Washington. Busy feet went hurrying along this way and that. Small groups could be seen standing at different places, discussing some question of an exciting character. If we draw near to any of these groups, we will hear such expressions as “great victory,” “hard fight,” “four hundred rebels killed.” But we are not now specially concerned with this “glorious news,” which had come on the telegraph wires.
Let us pause before that large hotel, standing on a certain street, which shall be nameless. Then let us enter, and ascend to the corner room of the fourth story. The door is locked, and on the outside stands a sentinel with musket in hand. Inside there is a lady on her knees. She has been informed that her trial will take place on the ensuing day. Three days have passed since her interview with Ernest. Gen. A. had told her what would be the consequence of detection with that handkerchief in her possession. The result of the trial may, therefore, be easily anticipated. The fate of a spy is “death by hanging.”
Mildred well knew what she had to expect, but strange to say, the dark prospect excited no alarm. Probably she could not make a reality of the impending danger. This is what the world would say. We are creatures of hope, and we do not yield to despair till the last chance is gone. But the Christian is sustained in the most awful calamities by something higher than any human hope of deliverance. In the darkest hours of trial, a mysterious influence pervades the Christian’s breast, produces a holy calm, a sacred joy, and elevates the soul in triumph above earthly sufferings and sorrows. Unbelievers may pronounce it a delusion, but, nevertheless, it is a delusion which brings happiness; and if this be so, the delusion is just as useful and comforting as though death should put an end to the entire man—both body and soul.
After arising from her knees, Mildred seated herself at the window, and gazed down upon the scenes below. At that moment she felt not a particle of fear or mistrust. She was perfectly resigned to the will of the Heavenly Father, let it be expressed in what aspect it might. She gave herself up to this ecstatic sense of security, feeling as if she were nestling, like a timid bird in the Omnipotent Hand. Were “coming events casting their shadows before?”