Part 9

Inside, the Yule logs sparkled on the hearth, the old oak parlour was decorated with holly and laurel and arbutus and mistletoe. The table was laden with the good things of this world, as it should be at Christmas time. The wine that, honestly and temperately enjoyed, is as much man’s possession as the corn in the fields or the fruit on the garden trees, sparkled in every glass. Each face seemed radiant with joy.

There sat old Barkston with his chaplain, as I call myself, at his right hand, and his youngest girl grandchild on his knee, an auburn-haired darling of some six summers, who delights the old gentleman by her shrewd observations and her curious ways.

There sat young Barkston, the Nick of old days, with a girl child on his knee, “dangling the grapes,” but with the disengaged hand clasped in that of beautiful and radiant Nan, who, like most fond mothers, had the best place in her honest heart for her only boy—young Nick, as he is familiarly called.

A little lower down, a little shy perhaps, but alternately garrulous and tearful, sat Mr. and Mrs. Cheevers, who were placed at the hospitable table as amongst the most favoured guests.

But before the party broke up and the evening ended, there came that old Christmas ceremony that, I regret to say, is falling into disuse and neglect.

At the command of our excellent host the tables were cleared away, and the butler brought in a splendid old china bowl of steaming punch, decorated with holly and flowers, and then all the servants trooped into the room and were made welcome as part of a united family. On this day of the year they were no mere masters and mistresses and servants and dependants, but friends heart and soul.

But before the punch was handed round, there was to be an old-fashioned country dance. Old Barkston, to her great delight, led out Mrs. Cheevers, who was great at her steps as her grandmother, so she said, had been before her.

The hand of Nan was claimed both by old Cheevers and the venerable butler, but she decided that age should decide the matter, promising an extra turn to the rejected old gentleman.

Nick had to dance with all the girls in the household, who enjoyed the joke keenly, particularly when he set the example of kissing his partners under the mistletoe—an example that the young men were very slow and shy to follow.

And then, when the dancing and romping were over, came the punch bowl, with glasses all round and healths and tears and good wishes. Then it was that old Cheevers delivered himself, in reply to the universal toast, “God bless us all,” of the words that still ring in my ears, now that the doors of that happy home are closed behind me, and I walk dreaming of the past towards my solitary home.

“Well, this ’ere is wery wonderful, wery wonderful, my dear! Just to think of our little Nick and Nan, and me and you a standing ’ere and drinking of their ’earty good ’ealth, and the ’ealth of them dear little ones, and a wishing of ’em a Merry Christmas!”

Good, honest souls, they had been present at the two most eventful moments of the lives of Nick and Nan.

And for me, on this never-to-be-forgotten Christmas Eve, there will be but one ceremony more, a faithful and pious pilgrimage, that I have never forgotten since the dead and the living were united on that wind-swept hill within sound of the sea.

When all the lights are out, and the embers are dying down on the hearth, when silence reigns about this land of love, and the peace is profound, I shall go in at the gates of the Garden of Sleep, and I shall kneel down on a grave, that is my dearest possession, and I shall kiss the marble cross above it, and pray that the parting may not be eternal, and that we may meet again to part no more for ever!

And then, perhaps, before the prayer is ended, and another day is born, the Christmas joy bells will answer one another across the frosty hills, and love and charity will be in all the air, and the words will come home to me, which will be the text of my Christmas sermon:—

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men.”

A LONELY CLERGYMAN.

THE END.

● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book.