'
My reader may wonder that one so young should have been able to
think so practically--to the one point of action. But he was in
earnest, and what lay at the root of his character, at the root of
all that he did, felt, and became, was childlike simplicity and
purity of nature. If the sins of his father were mercifully visited
upon him, so likewise were the grace and loveliness of his mother.
And between the two, Falconer had fared well.
As he descended the mountain, the one question was--his calling.
With the faintest track to follow, with the clue of a spider's
thread to guide him, he would have known that his business was to
set out at once to find, and save his father. But never since the
day when the hand of that father smote him, and Mary St. John found
him bleeding on the floor, had he heard word or conjecture
concerning him. If he were to set out to find him now, it would be
to search the earth for one who might have vanished from it years
ago. He might as well search the streets of a great city for a lost
jewel. When the time came for him to find his father, if such an
hour was written in the decrees of--I dare not say Fate, for
Falconer hated the word--if such was the will of God, some sign
would be given him--that is, some hint which he could follow with
action. As he thought and thought it became gradually plainer that
he must begin his obedience by getting ready for anything that God
might require of him.
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