"What nonsense, Daisy! Didn't the shop-keeper tell us, at the fair, that one little speck of a pearl cost more than my new gown? Now, what of the people?"

"You didn't look at the houses, after once seeing them; they had such lovely faces, and such a kind, gentle look, I could cry at only thinking of them now."

"Don't cry till you've finished your story. Were any of them handsomer than the rest? And what kind of dresses did they wear?"

"Their clothes were made of light, I should think; for they were softer than spider webs, and kept changing their shape and color as the people moved about."

"How could they?"

"Why, all the light poured from one place, that I could not look into; and even the heavenly people, when they turned towards it, folded their wings before their faces."

"That is where I should build my house."

"O, no, my sister; that is where our heavenly Father has built his throne; and it is the light from him that makes the whole city splendid, without any sun or moon. You cannot tell what a little, dark speck I felt before G.o.d: I trembled, and did not know where to turn, when one of the people came and took my hand."

"How frightened I should have been! Did he have wings?"

"I can't remember; but he moved--all in the heavenly city move--more quickly and more easily than birds. They want to be in a place, and are there like a flash of light; and they can see and hear so far, that the beautiful man who spoke to me said he saw me kiss our mother's hands, and put flowers in them, and carry her into the wood."

"Did he say any thing about me?"

"Yes--that some time you would love him better than any one else. And he told me why the people's clothes kept changing: when they went nearer our Father, their faces, and every thing they wore, became more splendid and lovely, but as they moved away from him, grew darker and coa.r.s.er; and yet, Maud, the commonest of all the people there is beautiful as our fairy, and wears as splendid clothes."

"What was the man's name? I hope he was not common, if I must love him."

"No, he was the greatest in heaven; all the men and angels bowed to him, and they called him Christ."

"O, I would give every thing to see him; you never shall go through the wood alone, Daisy, for fear he will come again when I'm away."

"He could come to our house as well as to the grave. And I'll tell you another strange thing about the city, Maud: some of the roads, you know, are gla.s.s, and some are gold; and there is a beautiful river, like crystal, shaded with palm trees, and sweeping on till it is lost in the great light."

"I don't see any thing wonderful in that, if the rest of your story be true."

"I have not finished: these broad roads ended in narrow paths; and from the river trickled tiny streams, that somehow came down over the golden walls of the city, and over the clouds, and the tops of trees, into this very earth we are standing on."

"O Daisy! are you sure? Could I find one of the paths, and so climb up to heaven, and find the beautiful Christ I am to love?"

"Yes, he told me so himself, and pointed to all the people on earth that were in those paths; and I saw a brightness about them, and a calm look in their faces, such as G.o.d's angels have. And then Christ told how all who tasted of the streams grew strong; beautiful, and glad; sick people, that stepped into them, were healed; and those who washed in the water were never unclean again."

And Daisy did not tell, because she feared it might make her sister envious and sad, that the Beautiful One had kissed her forehead, and said, "Daisy, you have picked many a flower beside these streams, and they have soothed your father's weariness, and healed your mother's aching heart; and when you come to live with me, and I place them all on your head in a wreath that shall never fade, no angel in heaven will wear a more beautiful crown."

Daisy looked up at him then, and asked, "But will you take them away from my mother? And shall not Maud have some? Only let me live near you, and give her the crown."

Christ smiled, and then looked sad, and said, "It will be long before your sister is willing to walk in such straight, narrow paths, and dwell beside such still waters, as she must in order to find these flowers; but you will always be pointing them out to her; and, in the end, she will love me better than she loves any one else. I would gladly help her, Daisy, for your sake; but only they who love can dwell with me."

CHAPTER XVI.

THE WATCHMAN.

So tired was Daisy, after all the labor and excitement of the day, that as soon as she had finished her story she fell asleep. Maud tried until she was tired to arouse her sister, and make her talk some more; but Daisy, except for her quiet breathing, was like one dead.

Maud could not sleep; she listened to the howling of the storm, and then remembered the grave she had seen through Daisy's spectacles, out there in the night; and then her sister's vision of the beautiful, shining city, whose people were clothed in light, and thought of the highest among them all, the King, who waited for her love.

"He will not care for Daisy, with her wise little face, when once he has seen mine," thought Maud. "I shall wear my finest garments, and put on my most stately and haughtiest look, to show him I am not like common people. I hope he does not know that every thing I have comes from that wretched old dame."

Here there sounded a rattling at the door latch, as if some one were coming into the cabin. Maud's heart beat loud and fast for fright; she imagined that dreadful things were about to happen, and scolded poor Daisy, as if she could hear, for pretending to be asleep.

Then came quick flashes of lightning, that made the room like noonday for one instant; and then thunder in crashing peals, that sounded more dreadful in the silent night; and then a stillness, through which Maud could hear the voices of the wolves, and the heavy, pelting drops.

Sometimes she thought the river would swell, and swell, till it flooded into the cabin, and drowned them both; sometimes she thought the lightning would kill her at a flash, or the wolves would break through the slender door, and eat her up, or the wind would blow the cabin down, and bury her.

Wasn't it strange that the thought never came to her, as she lay there trembling, what a poor, weak thing she was, and how good the fairy had been to keep all mischief from her until now?

She did think of the fairy, at length, and resolved to call her help, if it were possible. She lighted a lamp, and held it so near Daisy's eyes as almost to burn the lashes off; this she found better than shaking or scolding, for Daisy started up from her pleasant dreams, and asked where she was and what was happening.

"That!" said Maud, as a still sharper flash of lightning ran across the sky, and then thunder so loud that it drowned Maud's angry voice.

Daisy covered her face, for the lightning almost blinded her, and then first found that she had fallen asleep with the fairy spectacles on.

"Come, selfish girl," said Maud, "look through your old gla.s.ses; and if they are good for any thing, you can find what has become of the dame, and if she is still awake and watching over us."

Then Daisy told how she had been once to the old woman's cave; and if it were not for leaving her sister alone, would go again to-night.

Maud would not listen to this at first, but told Daisy that she was deceiving her, and only wanted to creep off somewhere and sleep, and leave her to be eaten by the wolves. As she spoke, Daisy's face lighted all at once with the beautiful smile which Peter saw, the day that she was born.

"O Maud, listen, and you will not be afraid," she said in her gentle voice. "I seemed to see, just now, the night, and the storm, and our cabin, and myself asleep--all as if in a picture. The lightning flashed and thunder rolled; the wolves were creeping about the door, and sniffing at the threshold, and the cabin rocked in the wind like a cradle.

"But just where you are standing, Maud, was an angel bending over me, and shading my eyes from the dazzle with her own white wings. She had such a quiet, gentle face as I never saw any where except in my vision of our Father's house."

"Were her eyes black, or blue like mine? I wonder if Christ ever saw her."

"I do not remember the color; but her eyes were full of love, and pity, and tenderness; and when I seemed to awake, and look up at her, she pointed out into the night."

"And there, I suppose, you will pretend that you saw something else very fine--as if I should believe such foolish stories! But talk on, for it keeps you awake."

"No, Maud, nothing seemed beautiful after the angel's face; but I saw a strong city, with walls, and towers on the walls, and with watchmen walking to and fro to keep robbers away. And I saw a great house, as large as a hundred of ours, with heavy doors, and bolts, and locks, and many servants--strong men, sleeping in their beds, for it was night.

"And in one of the inmost rooms, where all was rich and elegant, and the carpet was soft as moss, and the muslin curtains hung like clouds, lay a girl about my age, but a great deal more beautiful, asleep."

"Was she handsomer than I?" interrupted Maud.

"I had not time to ask myself; for, as I looked, the door opened softly, and two thieves crept in, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the jewels that lay about the room, and then, seeing a bracelet on her white arm, went towards the bed.

"I was about to scream, when the fairy softly put her hand before my mouth, and pointed again.