On the small dresser was a Gideon Bible, which, sitting on the edge of the commonplace iron bed, she now opened instinctively at Psalms 3 and 4.
“Lord, how are they increased that trouble.”
“Hear me, when I call, O God of my righteousness.”
And then reading on silently, even placidly apparently, through 6, 8, 10, 13, 23, 91, while Esta stood by in silent amazement and misery.
“Oh, Mamma, I just can’t believe it.
Oh, this is too terrible!”
But Mrs. Griffiths read on.
It was as if, and in spite of all this, she had been able to retreat into some still, silent place, where, for the time being at least, no evil human ill could reach her.
Then at last, quite calmly closing the book, and rising, she went on:
“Now, we must think out what to say and who to send that telegram to — I mean to Clyde, of course — at that place, wherever it is — Bridgeburg,” she added, looking at the paper, and then interpolating from the Bible —“By terrible things in righteousness wilt thou answer us, O God!”
“Or, maybe, those two lawyers — their names are there.
I’m afraid to wire Asa’s brother for fear he’ll wire back to him.” (Then: ‘Thou art my bulwark and my strength.
In Thee will I trust.’)
“But I suppose they would give it to him if we sent it care of that judge or those lawyers, don’t you think?
But it would be better if we could send it to him direct, I suppose. (‘He leadeth me by the still waters.’) Just say that I have read about him and still have faith and love for him, but he is to tell me the truth and what to do.
If he needs money we will have to see what we can do, I suppose. (‘He restoreth my soul.’)”
And then, despite her sudden peace of the moment, she once more began wringing her large, rough hands.
“Oh, it can’t be true.
Oh, dear, no!
After all, he is my son.
We all love him and have faith.
We must say that.
God will deliver him.
Watch and pray.
Have faith.
Under his wings shalt thou trust.”
She was so beside herself that she scarcely knew what she was saying.
And Esta, at her side, was saying:
“Yes, Mamma!
Oh, of course!
Yes, I will!
I know he’ll get it all right.”
But she, too, was saying to herself:
“My God! My God!
What could be worse than this — to be accused of murder!
But, of course, it can’t be true.
It can’t be true.
If he should hear!” (She was thinking of her husband.) “And after Russell, too.
And Clyde’s trouble there in Kansas City.
Poor Mamma.
She has so much trouble.”
Together, after a time, and avoiding Asa who was in an adjoining room helping with the cleaning, the two made their way to the general mission room below, where was silence and many placards which proclaimed the charity, the wisdom, and the sustaining righteousness of God. ? Chapter 18
T he telegram, worded in the spirit just described, was forthwith despatched care of Belknap and Jephson, who immediately counseled Clyde what to reply — that all was well with him; that he had the best of advice and would need no financial aid. Also that until his lawyers advised it, it would be best if no member of the family troubled to appear, since everything that could possibly be done to aid him was already being done.
At the same time they wrote Mrs. Griffiths, assuring her of their interest in Clyde and advising her to let matters rest as they were for the present.
Despite the fact that the Griffiths were thus restrained from appearing in the east, neither Belknap nor Jephson were averse to some news of the existence, whereabouts, faith and sympathy of Clyde’s most immediate relatives creeping into the newspapers, since the latter were so persistent in referring to his isolation.
And in this connection they were aided by the fact that his mother’s telegram on being received in Bridgeburg was at once read by individuals who were particularly interested in the case and by them whispered to the public and the press, with the result that in Denver the family was at once sought out and interviewed.
And shortly after, there was circulated in all the papers east and west a more or less complete account of the present state of Clyde’s family, the nature of the mission conducted by them, as well as their narrow and highly individualistic religious beliefs and actions, even the statement that often in his early youth Clyde had been taken into the streets to sing and pray — a revelation which shocked Lycurgus and Twelfth Lake society about as much as it did him.
At the same time, Mrs. Griffiths, being an honest woman and whole- heartedly sincere in her faith and in the good of her work, did not hesitate to relate to reporter after reporter who called, all the details of the missionary work of her husband and herself in Denver and elsewhere.
Also that neither Clyde nor any of the other children had ever enjoyed the opportunities that come to most.
However, her boy, whatever the present charge might be, was not innately bad, and she could not believe that he was guilty of any such crime.