Chapter Eleven.
“Come with my mother and me to a meeting to which we are going this evening!” said Gretchen, when Wenlock returned home at a somewhat earlier hour than usual, for he still lived at the house of the kind surgeon. “Some Englishmen arrived yesterday in Rotterdam, and they are about to address the public on some important religious matters. They are said to be very earnest and devoted people, and one of them speaks Dutch perfectly. Their names I cannot remember. Those short, curious, English names quickly escape my memory.”
Wenlock at once agreed to Gretchen’s request; indeed he had no longer the heart to refuse her anything she asked. It might have been just possible that, had he learned that the fair Mary had forgotten him and accepted another suitor, he would have had no great difficulty in consoling himself. Yet it was not so at present. He always treated Gretchen with kindness and respect, but was fully convinced in his own mind that he never allowed a warmer feeling to enter his bosom. The large public hall in which meetings of the sort were generally held was nearly filled by the time the Van Erk party arrived. They, however, were shown to seats near the platform whence the speakers were to address the people. Many more persons crowded in, till the hall was quite full. Just then five gentlemen appeared on the platform, advancing with slow and dignified steps. A curious and very mixed feeling agitated Wenlock’s heart when among them he recognised Master William Penn, and his father’s old friend, Captain Mead. The thought of his father rushed into his mind, and a tear filled his eye. He thought, however, also of Mary, and he longed to ask her father about her; yet, at that moment, to do so was impossible. As the speakers appeared, the whole hall was hushed in silence. At length William Penn offered up a prayer in Dutch. He then introduced a tall thin, careworn man, as George Fox, who addressed the people in English, Penn interpreting as he spoke. He urged on them in forcible language to adopt the principles which the Friends had accepted, and many were moved to tears while he spoke. William Mead then came forward, but said little. Another Englishman, Robert Barclay, then addressed the assemblage. He was followed by Penn himself; who, in calm yet forcible language, placed the simple truths of the gospel before his hearers. Wenlock’s feelings were greatly moved. His reason too was convinced. He had had a severe lesson. He had declined to accept those principles, and sought for worldly honour and distinction instead. The result had been the loss of his beloved father, he himself escaping with life almost by a miracle. “Those are old friends I little expected to meet again,” said Wenlock to Gretchen and her mother. “I must speak to them now, lest they leave the city to-morrow and I may miss them.”
As the assembly broke up, the speakers descended into the body of the hall, and Wenlock found himself standing before William Penn and Captain Mead. Neither of them knew him, though they looked at him kindly, having observed the deep attention with which he had listened to their discourses. “I am afraid, Master Mead, I am forgotten,” said Wenlock, feeling that he must speak at last. The Quaker started, and examined his countenance narrowly. “What!” he exclaimed, “art thou the son of my ancient comrade? Verily I thought that he and thou were long since numbered with the dead. How is it, young man? Has thy father escaped also?”
“Alas! no,” said Wenlock; and he gave a brief account of his father’s death.
“And hast thou been content to pass so long a time without communicating with thy old friends?” said Mead, in a reproachful tone.
“No, indeed. I wrote to Mistress Mary,” said Wenlock; “but she replied not to my letter.”
“My daughter received no letter from thee, young man,” said Mead; “and I will not deny that she grieved at the thought of thy loss.”
“O Master Mead, I wish that I had written oftener, till one of my letters had reached you or her,” exclaimed Wenlock; “but I thought that she had discarded me.”
“I see; I see! And thou wast too proud to run the risk of being chid further for thy youthful folly,” said the Quaker.