Frequently our greatest misfortunes are blessings in disguise, as the Sacred Scriptures abundantly demonstrate. Comston’s incarceration, was at least a spiritual blessing to him. He could not procure ardent spirits, and the consequence was, that, in a few weeks, his physical constitution began to recuperate, and he at last mastered his terrible appetite. But this was not all. Ernest visited him nearly every day, prayed with him, instructed him, till finally the poor fellow had reason to rejoice in a brighter hope than had ever thrilled his heart before. There could be no doubt about his complete reformation. This, in connection with Comston’s emphatic assertion of his innocence, had a tendency to arouse public sympathy in his favor. No one believed that he was a murderer at heart, even if he had taken Jones’ life. The theory was, that it was done in a drunken quarrel, without there being any intention to kill.
But all this was not the full extent of the blessing. The husband and wife were also reconciled. Clara, who, too, had found that “peace which passeth all understanding,” visited him in the jail—indeed, spent the most of her time there. Xerxes “was himself again,” and her buried affection for him revived. So notwithstanding the unfavorable circumstances which surrounded them, they were comparatively happy. They were not without hope.
Ernest, in these hours of trial, proved a brother. He attended to Comston’s outside affairs, and, among other things, secured the services of a good lawyer.
The five months had nearly passed away, and only a few days remained before the trial would occur. Now, let us visit the jail for the last time. Only Clara, Comston and Ernest were present.
“O,” said Comston earnestly, “if I could only get out of this difficulty, what a different man I’d be! what a different life I’d lead! I’ve lost the taste for brandy, and now take a solemn oath that not another drop of the vile stuff shall ever go down my throat. O, Mr. Edgefield, pray God to get me out of this trouble, and I promise to be a true Christian as long as I live.”
“Now, Mrs. Comston,” said Ernest pleasantly, “you have heard his vow, do you think he would keep it?”
“If he wouldn’t,” she said emphatically, “he would be the meanest ingrate that ever lived on earth.”
“Well,” said Ernest, “I believe he will perform his vows. I shall not see you any more before the trial. Let us pray together once more for God’s assistance.”
When they arose from their knees, Clara seemed more cheerful and said: