Part 34 (1/2)
”Well, I had a dream this morning, and, though it seemed very short, I felt when I awoke from it as if I had been in h.e.l.l all the night long.”
”What did you dream?”
”I was in the vestry of the Church of the Disciples, putting on my vestments. I knew that the church was crowded, and I looked at myself and was proud of my appearance. Then I was walking up the aisle very slowly. Step by step I mounted the pulpit stairs, and stood facing the largest congregation I had ever seen. And the light was just like the light when there is an eclipse of the sun--an unearthly, solemn obscurity, frightful and mysterious. I stood in my place and surveyed the congregation. It filled the church, but the furthest points of distance appeared to be nearly in the dark. I could see forms and movements there, but nothing distinct. I looked at this gathering for a moment, and then laid my hand upon the Bible, and, with my eyes still upon the people, I opened it--Jessy!”
”O man! Speak!”
”There was nothing there.”
”Nothing there! What do you mean?”
”Every page was blank--only white paper--not a word of any kind----”
”Ian Macrae!”
”I looked for my text. It was gone. I turned the pages with trembling hands, but neither in the Old nor the New Testament was there a word.
And I cried out in my anguish, and looked at the wordless Bible till I felt as if body and soul were parting. G.o.d, how I suffered! Earth has no suffering to compare with it.”
”Then, Ian?”
”Then I looked up at the congregation, and was going to tell them the Bible had faded away, but I saw the people were a moving dark ma.s.s, in a rapidly vanis.h.i.+ng light; and I tried to find the pulpit stairs, but could not, for I was in black darkness. And I was not alone; to the right and the left there were movements and whispers and a sense of _Presence_ about me. Powers unutterable and unseen that must have come out of inevitable h.e.l.l. The whole earth appeared to be awake and aware, and _the Name_, _the Name_ I wanted to call upon I could not remember.
The effort to do so was a tasting of death.”
He covered his face and was silent, and Mrs. Caird took his cold hand and said softly, ”O Lord, Thou Lover of souls! Thou sparest all, for they are Thine.”
”At last _the Name_ came into my heart, Jessy, and though I but whispered the Word, its power filled the whole place, and the Evil Ones were overcome--not with strength nor force of celestial arms, but with that _One Word_ they were driven away; and I awakened and it was just daylight, and I was so wet with the sweat of terror that I might have been in the Clyde all night. Was this a dream, Jessy?”
”Yes.”
”What does it mean?”
”You know best. A G.o.d-sent dream brings its meaning with it. It is not a dream unless it does so. You know, Ian. Why ask me?”
”Yes, I know.”
About this experience Mrs. Caird would not converse, for she was not willing to talk away the influence of Ian's spiritual visitation. She was quite sure that he understood the message sent him, and equally sure that he would implicitly obey it. So she left him alone, though she heard him destroying papers all day long. The next day being Sat.u.r.day, he was very quiet, and she told herself he was preparing his sermon, and then with a trembling heart she began to speculate as to its burden. She feared that in some way his dream would come into relation or comment, and she could not bear the idea of such a public confidence.
She was still more uneasy when on Sunday morning he said in his most positive manner, ”Jessy, I wish you and Marion to remain at home to-day.
A little later you will understand my desire.”
”As you wish, Ian. We shall both be glad of a quiet rest day. I hope you know what you are going to do, Ian. Our life is a spectacle--a tragedy to both men and angels--bad angels as well as good ones. Don't forget that, Ian.”
”I shall not forget, and I know what I am going to do.”
She looked at him anxiously, but had never seen him more decided and purposeful. He was also dressed with extreme care, and, though in ecclesiastical costume, was so singularly like his uncle that Mrs. Caird involuntarily thought, ”How soldierly he carries himself! What a fighter he would have been! But he is some way quite different--not like the old Ian at all.”
Yes, he was different, for on the soul's sh.o.r.eless ocean the tides only heave and swell when they are penetrated by the Powers of the World to Come. And Dr. Macrae was still under the emotions of his first experience of that kind. He was prescient and restless. For, though the outward man appeared the same, the archway inside was uplifted and widened, and Dr. Macrae had risen to its requirements. He was ready to fight for his soul. Yes, with his life in his hand, to fight for its salvation. What would it profit him if he gained the whole world and lost his soul?
Frequently he a.s.sured himself that he did not now regard the Bible as divinely inspired, yet he was constantly deciding this or that question by its decrees. So quite naturally he followed this tremendous inquiry of Christ's by those two pa.s.sionate invocations of David, ”Cast me not away from Thy Presence. Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.” To be cast out of G.o.d's Presence. To be sent into the Outer Darkness, full of the Evil Ones! ”O Jessy!” he cried, ”such a doom would turn a living man into clay!”
It was of this awful possibility he was thinking as he walked to the Church of the Disciples. Two or three of the deacons were standing in the vestibule, and they looked at him and then at each other with a pleased expression.
”We rejoice to see you, sir, looking so well,” said one. ”The church is full, sir, and, if our clock is correct, there is but five minutes to service time.”