CHAPTER XIII

The "Holy Thing"

IT was Sunday afternoon, and only a few days before Christmas. Gypsy was lying on the hearthrug, looking at Miss Gubbins' old picture Bible.

The boys, after a long whispered consultation in a corner of the room, had disappeared, and Gypsy, with her thoughts full of the "Star of Bethlehem," was thinking busily as she slowly turned the pages, and looked at the pictures of the shepherds and the wise men. Suddenly she started, and spelled out breathlessly the following words:—

"That Holy Thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God."

Then she stood on her feet with flushed cheeks.

"There, I knew it! I knew it! And here the Bible says so. The boys said the Holy Thing wasn't a text, and it is, and it does mean Jesus Christ Himself!"

At this moment the door opened, and in burst the boys. Donald had got two pillows strapped across his back, an old felt hat of Victor's slouched over his eyes, and a stout stick in his hand. Claud was ambling after him covered with a bearskin, and when Gypsy saw them she looked quite shocked.

"You're dressing up, and it's Sunday!"

"It's all right," Donald assured her, marching round the table with a great deal of noise. "It's a proper Sunday game, and it's out of the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' Claud is going to be one of the chained lions, and I want you to be the other. I'll tie you up with just room for me to walk between you, and you must try to grab me, and you won't be able to!"

Gypsy did not look as if she found this very enticing. She was too full of her own theme to have much interest in the boys.

"Listen!" she cried. "You told me long ago the Holy Thing wasn't a text. And it is. I have just found it in the Bible!"

The boys paused.

"We don't believe it!"

Gypsy read out her verse in triumph, and the boys listened, and had not a word to say. Gypsy went on:—

"I believe Galahad was like the wise men, and he was looking for Jesus, and the Holy Light was the star!"

"Oh, all right!" said Donald, a little impatiently. "I'm 'Christian' now, and he's a kind of Sunday Galahad. Come on and be the lion Gypsy! The Ogre isn't here to catch us, and Gubby is lying down, as she always is on Sunday."

"If we're lions, we're sure to wake her up," objected Gypsy.

"Well, look here, we'll come into the Ogre's library, that's away from everybody."

They left the schoolroom; and then ensued such a romp, and such howls and shrieks, that at last two maids and Smythe appeared and dragged the hot combatants apart.

"Ain't you ashamed of yourselves?" said Smythe severely, as he collared Donald and gave him a little shake. "Is this keepin' Sunday? And there's a lady downstairs a-waitin' to see Miss Gypsy, and she lookin' as if she's just come out of a pigsty!"

"I have followed you up," said a pleasant voice, and Miss Helen came in at the door.

There was an instant hush. The boys looked ashamed of themselves, and Gypsy began to cry.

"It's a proper Sunday game," said Donald, a little sulkily.

"It isn't," sobbed Gypsy. "I've torn my best frock, and the string you tied me up with hurt awful!"

Miss Helen drew her towards her, and soothed her ruffled feelings.

"I have just run in to wish you a happy Christmas, and to leave you a parcel, for I am going away to-morrow, and it will be my last chance of seeing you. Won't you put yourselves tidy, boys, and come to us in the schoolroom? Gypsy and I are going there now."

A little later the three children were seated quietly talking to their visitor. Miss Helen certainly had a wonderful charm for all children, and finding them in want of occupation, she settled down to interest and keep them quiet for a short time.

"Tell you a story," she said, answering the usual clamour; "what about, I wonder?"

"Oh, some adventures to travellers, that's what we like."

"Miss Helen," interrupted Gypsy, "I've found the Holy Thing in the Bible, and it means Jesus—it says the 'Son of God,' and He was the Son of God, wasn't He?"

Miss Helen looked at the verse the eager little maiden was pointing at, and then she said, after a silence:

"It's the same old story, children, only differently told. Galahad and others went to seek for the Holy Grail; Christian left his home and friends and travelled, seeking the Beautiful City; the wise men and shepherds sought the Saviour. We should travel through life, not seeking treasures on earth, but treasures in heaven. And if we find what the wise men did, we shall find everything. You are all little pilgrims. You have got enemies to fight every day, but you will never really advance towards heaven until you have found Jesus to be your own Saviour and best Friend. Have you done this?

"You will have plenty of adventures on your journey, many temptations, and troubles, and slips by the way; but if Jesus is with you He will take care of you, and take your hands in His. The Holy Grail that you are all so fond of, is a parable. It shows us that though Arthur's knights had plenty of honour and glory, though they were in the midst of earthly pomp and show, and could have been satisfied with their brave deeds, and all their surroundings, yet the best of them sought higher things. They looked for heavenly light and glory, and Galahad found what he sought, and was called into the King's presence. Live for heaven, boys, and you'll be following Galahad's footsteps.

"Be knights for Jesus Christ. That is a much more glorious thing than being King Arthur's knights. And a much more real thing, for boys and girls are wanted to fight the Lord's battles, to be always standing out as champions of the right, and putting down the evil."

Miss Helen paused. She had spoken with great fervour, and the boys were much impressed.

"I will belong to Jesus," said Gypsy, fervently looking up at Miss Helen with glowing eyes, "only I don't know how to start. And I don't understand the text, 'Those that seek Me shall find Me.' Can't I never, never really see Jesus? Is looking for the Holy Thing no good at all?"

"This is Christmas time, so we will think of the Christmas story," said Miss Helen. "Why did the wise men want to find Jesus? Wasn't it to own Him as their King, and present to Him gifts? Didn't the shepherds praise and thank God for letting them see their Saviour? If you children want to find Jesus, kneel down like the wise men before Him. He is with us always. Give Him the best gift you have—your little hearts, and thank Him for coming down to be your Saviour. Then live for Him, and let Him lead you on the road to heaven."

A hush had fallen on the little group; then Donald said, with much emphasis:

"I'll make myself a knight for Jesus Christ on Christmas Day."

"Ask Him to make you one, Donald. No one can make themselves into knights. They must be knighted by the king or queen."

They had a little more talk, and then Miss Helen went away, leaving behind her a parcel which was not to be opened till Christmas Day.

Miss Gubbins wondered at the quiet that reigned in the schoolroom, when she came in shortly afterwards; but though she was told of the visitor, she was not told of the substance of her talk; and she did not know that on that Sunday afternoon, whilst she was asleep, some seed had been dropped into good ground, that would eventually spring up and bear fruit a hundredfold.

Christmas was a delightful time to the children. Victor was going to be away himself, but he asked Miss Gubbins to make it as bright as possible to every one. The boys helped the old gardener to cut down evergreen, and bring it in to decorate the house; and now that the sense of their brother's absence took away all restraint from their actions, the place echoed and re-echoed with their glee. Christmas Eve came, and in the afternoon, tired out with play, the boys threw themselves down by the great log fire in the hall. Gypsy joined them; and presently she said:

"Poor Sir Perceval, he'll be spending his Christmas all alone! I wish we had some nice presents to send him!"

"Yes," assented Claud; "he ought to have something. Let's make him up a parcel, like Gubby is doing for the old villagers, and we'll take it to him before tea."

"What shall we put in?" asked Donald considering: then starting to his feet he said, "Come on, well make a collection, it will be great fun."

They borrowed a covered basket from Smythe, abstracted a wine bottle from the pantry, coaxed a cake out of cook, and then made their way to the store cupboard, where Miss Gubbins was doing up her parcels.

She, thinking they were wanting to have a little feast, gave them some candied peel, almonds, and raisins, and a few oranges. These were stuffed loosely into the basket, and they were followed by a velvet smoking-cap with a red silk tassel found in Victor's bedroom, a new Christmas number of the "Graphic," and lastly a puppy was produced from the stable and put in on the top. Then each taking a handle of the basket the boys sallied out, and Gypsy followed as closely as she could, dragging after her a large branch of holly, a special offering from herself.

[Illustration: PRESENTS FOR SIR PERCEVAL.]

It was a dull, cold afternoon, and the walk seemed a long one to the little girl; but they reached their destination, and found Sir Perceval enjoying himself with his books over his fire.

How he laughed, when he was made to undo his basket; but he shook his head gravely over the bottle of wine and smoking-cap.

"Those belong to the Ogre," he said, as after a little cross-questioning, he discovered from whence they had been taken. "I shall enjoy my cake. You must give my best thanks to Mrs. Cook, and if the puppy is really Donald's possession and he likes to give it to me, I shall be deeply grateful. But the rest you must take back."

"We want you to have a jolly Christmas," said Claud, "and we're afraid you're rather dull all alone."

"Bob Bogus is always jolly, and he is not going to be alone either, this Christmas."

"Who is coming?"

"I didn't say any one was coming, did I?"

"Oh, you're only chaffing. You mean the little spirits that you say whisper funny ideas in your head!"

Sir Perceval looked at Claud with a laugh, but a shade of gravity passed over his face as he turned his eyes towards Gypsy.

"Look here, youngsters," he said, "go out and ask Mrs. What's-her-name to give you some milk for the puppy, and leave the little elf with me."

The boys obeyed at once. They knew all the ins and outs of the farmhouse, and were great favourites with the farmer and his wife. Gypsy drew near, and perched herself on Sir Perceval's knee.

"I wish you could come and spend the day with us to-morrow," she said.

"My old legs won't let me, unfortunately. Well, how are you getting on in your quest? Have you got any fresh light on the subject?"

"Do you mean the Holy Thing? Yes, I found a text about it in the Bible, but Miss Helen told us a lot about it on Sunday afternoon. I didn't quite understand, but I expect you would, if you had been there."

"Well, do you know I think I do understand. I have been trying to use the Holy Light that you advised, and where do you think it has led me?"

"What Holy Light? Oh, I remember; it was the Bible, wasn't it? Where did it lead you?"

"Just exactly where the star led the wise men."

Gypsy considered; then said thoughtfully, "It led them straight to Jesus."

Sir Perceval nodded at her gravely without a word.

"Then you have found Jesus."

Another grave nod.

"Did you really—" this in an eager whisper—"did you really see Him?"

Sir Perceval smiled.

"Have you ever seen things with your eyes shut, Gypsy?"

"Sometimes. We play at a game like that. The boys shut their eyes tight, and tell me what they see, and then I tell them what I see."

"Well, there are some things we can see with our hearts instead of our eyes. I think your muddle was this. You were trying to find with your eyes, what your heart was meant to find. And all my life I've been doing the same."

Gypsy looked eager.

"Tell me more. How can my heart find Jesus?"

"Do you know what text the Holy Light led me to? Listen—'Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me.' My heart has been empty for many a long year, though once I used to think about these things, so I opened my heart's door, and now you know who my Christmas Guest is."

Gypsy's blue eyes glowed and sparkled.

"And can my heart find Jesus like that? Will it open to Him?"

"You know best, for you are the one to open it."

There was silence. The firelight played over the child's expressive face in all its innocence and beauty, and on the strong manly one bent over her.

Then Gypsy said brokenly:

"Let me tell Jesus now, let me open the door to Him here."

She slid down on her knees, without waiting for any assent, and this was Gypsy's prayer:

"I've been trying to find You, Lord Jesus, but my heart is going to find You now. Please come in, and keep there. I'm glad I know the way to find You at last. Amen."

Then there was a short silence, but it was broken by the boys' noisy entrance, and all quietness was at an end.

Gypsy put up her face to be kissed when she wished Sir Perceval good-bye.

"I shan't ever want to find the Holy Thing any more," she whispered, "for I know now that it just means Jesus."

THE END.

Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.