CHAPTER VI

THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE

THE children's voices rang out in clear, sweet, and harmonious tones; for the Oukrainians are a musical people, and fond of choral singing. Only now and then a shrill note, sounding like a cry of triumph, broke the harmony. It was little Clava, who had not yet learned how to modulate her voice; and Sergius would have checked her, only Michael gave him a sign to let the child sing on.

"And now," he said, when the favourite hymn was finished, "I am going to tell you about the children in Scotland, whose fathers and mothers were like the Stundists. They were called the Covenanters, and the king wanted to make them say they believed what they didn't believe, and worship God in the churches; and they couldn't, for conscience' sake—just like our fathers and mothers. All they wanted was to be left alone to worship God, and obey Him, in the way they believed to be right. Then the king said they were rebels, and, he sent his soldiers to compel them to do as he wished, or to put them to death. Then the Covenanters said they were ready to die, but they could never, never disobey God. So the men had to flee away, and hide in the steppes and the mountains. Now, their steppes are not like ours, all open, and plain to see across, but they are full of rocks and woods and hollows, where they could hide easily. They suffered dreadfully from hunger and cold and ragged clothing; and the soldiers hunted them down, and some of them they caught and shot like wild beasts; and others they sent to prison; and they hanged many of them. What for? Because they obeyed God rather than man.

"But the women, of course, stayed at home with the children; and sometimes the poor men would steal in to see them, and to get a little good food and warmth. Then the spies told the soldiers—they were traitors, those spies were—and the soldiers came; and all the men and women fled away into the woods, and left the children alone in the houses. Oh, you may be sure they could hardly bear to do it but everybody thought, 'The soldiers have children of their own, and they will not hurt our little ones.'

"Then the troopers came on great black battle-horses, with swords and guns; and they searched one house after another, and could find no one but little children—boys and girls no older than Velia. For big boys like Serge and me had gone off to the woods and caves with the grown-up people, because they knew the soldiers would have no mercy on them.

"Well, when nobody was found, the captain was very angry. In a great rage he had all the children gathered together, and asked them where their fathers and mothers were. Do you think the children told the captain?"

Michael paused to take breath, and Clava's shrill little voice cried out, "No!"

"No, my little Clava," continued Michael, "and you would never tell, if father or mother were hiding. Then the captain set them all in a row, with a row of soldiers opposite to them with their guns ready to shoot them, and bade them kneel down to be killed. So they knelt down, and the oldest little girl, like Velia, said to the others, 'It will not hurt much, and then we shall be in heaven!'

"The captain told them to say their prayers, but the little girl said they did not know how to pray aloud, though they could sing a hymn. And the children began to sing a hymn they all knew, and the soldiers turned away, and rode off on their battle-horses, telling the captain they were ready to fight with men but not with children, and before the hymn was finished they were all out of sight."

"Ah!" sighed the children, drawing a long breath.

"That was about two hundred years ago," Michael went on, "in Scotland; and in the very house I lived in there was a little secret closet in the chimney corner, as if it was close to one of our stoves. One night the father was warming himself at the fire, when they heard the soldiers coming, and he slipped into the secret closet, and the mother ran and got into bed, and only a girl like Marfa was left clearing up the house. There was a good fire on the hearth, so the soldiers felt sure somebody was there, and they searched up and down, and then they asked the girl where her father was, but of course she would not tell. So they said they would flog her, and she ran out of doors as quickly as she could run. They followed her, thinking she was running to her father.

"But I will tell you why she ran out into the fold-yard. She said to herself, 'Father will hear if they flog me in the house, and he will come out and be killed.'

"And they did flog her, but she stuffed her apron in her mouth, lest she should scream out. And at last, the soldiers were ashamed. One of them said she was a brave lassie! She was my grandfather's grandmother, and they talk about her to this day, so brave she was.

"But it does not always end as well as that. There is poor Paraska; you know how both her children have been taken away from her. Well that may happen to us—not to big boys and girls like Serge and Marfa and me, they will treat us like grown-up people—but you little ones! Oh, if any of you are taken away from your own fathers and mothers, you must never forget them, and what they taught you. You must be true to God and them. If we die for it, we must be true. We cannot bow down to icons, or pray to anyone but God. Never! Never! Death is not dreadful if we love God. It only takes a few minutes to die. Then we are safe for ever with our Lord Jesus Christ. You will remember?"

"Yes, yes!" they all cried.

"It helps me to think often that our Lord was once just like me," continued Michael; "a boy as old as me, working with His father, and living at home; just my age—"

Clava's little brown hand was lifted up to interrupt him; she had an important question to ask.

"Was He ever just as little as me?" she said.

"Exactly as little as you, my Clava," answered Michael; "six years old only, and His mother took care of Him, just like your mother; and, oh, He made her so happy, for He was never naughty! Well, whenever we are tempted, we must try to think what He would have done in our place. Remember our Lord Jesus died a martyr, and we must be ready to follow Him. It is not grown-up people only who are martyrs!"