Daisy In The Field - Page 165/231

That was too true, I knew. I could only be silent.

"How do you feel?" he next asked.

"I know it is as you say, Mr. Dinwiddie."

"And in view of it? -"

"What can I do, - Mr. Dinwiddie?"

"Nothing to avoid the rocks. The helm is not in your hand."

"But I know in whose hand it is."

"And are willing to have it there?"

"More than willing," I said, meeting his eye.

"Then the boat will go right," he said, with a sort of accent

of relief. "It is the cross pulls with the oar, striving to

undo the work of the rudder, that draw the vessel out of her

course. The Pilot knows, - if you can only leave it to the

Pilot."

There was a pause again.

"But He sometimes takes the boat into the breakers," Mr.

Dinwiddie said.

"Yes," I said. "I know it."

"What then, Daisy, my friend?"

"What then, Mr. Dinwiddie?" I said, looking up at him. "Then

she must be broken to pieces."

"And what then? Can you trust the Pilot still?"

His great eyes were flashing and glittering as he looked at

me. No careless nor aimless thought had caused such an

interrogatory, I knew. I met the eyes which seemed to be

blazing and melting at once, but I answered only by the look.

"You may," he went on, without taking his eyes from mine. "You

may trust safely. Even if the vessel is shaken and broken,

trust even then, when all seems gone. There shall be smooth

waters yet; and a better voyage than if you had gone a less

wearisome way."

"Why do you say all this to me, Mr. Dinwiddie?"

"Not because I am a prophet," he said, looking away now, -

"for I am none. And if I saw such trials ahead for you, I

should have hardly courage to utter them. I asked, to comfort

myself; that I might know of a certainty that you are safe,

whatever comes."

"Thank you," I said, rather faintly.

"I shall stay here," he went on presently, "in the land of my

work; and you will be gone to-morrow for other scenes. It

isn't likely you will ever see me again. But if ever you need

a friend, on the other side of the globe, if you call me, I

will come. It is folly to say that, though," he said plucking

hastily at a spear of grass; - "you will not need nor think of

me. But I suppose you know, Daisy, by this time, that all

those who come near you, love you. I am no exception. You must

have charity for me."

"Dear Mr. Dinwiddie," I said reaching out my hand, - "if I

were in trouble and wanted a friend, there is no one in the

world that I would sooner, or - rather, or as soon or as lief,

ask to help me. Except -" I added, and could not finish my

sentence. For I had remembered there was an exception which

ought to be implied somewhere.