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Updated: May 9, 2025
He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. With a new week commenced our studies order in tasks and play taking the place of the licence and excitement of the first days of novelty. By Mr Clare's rule we reached our school-house in the wreck every morning at eight that is, every morning except Saturday and Sunday. The brig's bell was our summons.
He had felt that precious quality on the day that his mother died, he had felt it sometimes when he had been in Stephen's company, but against these isolated emotions what a world of hate and bitterness. Now he felt Clare's affection on every side of him. They had already in so short a time a store of precious memories, intimacies, that they shared.
A last despair passed over Clare's face. "Is he in England?" "Yes." He took a few vague steps. "My position is this," he said abruptly.
The bond which united her to her saint and the Saviour still remained, but she knew what was commanded by him from whom St. Clare's mission also came, what Francis of Assisi had enjoined upon his followers whose experiences had been like hers.
Only I rather hope she will never join the Roman Church; its banks are too narrow to hold the brimming river of the human spirit even my Clare's, which does not, perhaps, brim very high, dear, simple child that she is. As for the twins, they are merely cynical about all experiments with the supernatural.
"Yes. She did fell on a horse's back, and he jumped. I was sorry." "It didn't hurt him. I hope it didn't hurt dolly!" The moment he said it, Clare's heart reproached him: he was not talking true! he was not talking out of his real heart to the child! Almost with indignation she answered: "Things don't be hurt! Dolly was a thing! She's no thing now!" "Why?"
Small presents of money from strangers he invariably invested in books; and the two guineas of Sir Walter Scott went directly to buy the works of Burns, Chatterton's poems, and Southey's 'Life of Nelson. The assiduous study of these works necessarily tended to elevate Clare's taste and to improve his style.
To be in Clare's arms was better than being in the little house on the elephant's back in her best picture-book! True, little one! To be in the arms of love, be they ever so weak, is better than to ride the grandest horse in all the stables of God and God would have you know it! Never mind your pale little face and your puny nose!
There were those who had seen him, on the brink of the mere, holding converse with the Evil One; they had actually witnessed the passing of the glittering coin, 'which fell into his hands like rain drops. Clare's poor old father and mother did not believe these stories; yet even they shuddered when their son entered the little hut. It was clear John could not remain long at Helpston.
But Clare's face looked bright and serene; to him, as much as to the master of the house, it appeared perfectly natural to be returned to his proper social sphere, after a momentary dream-like rise into higher social regions. He walked into the hall, and humbly sat down at the lower end of the servants' table.
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