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By Far Euphrates: A Tale. Deborah Alcock
Читать онлайн.Название By Far Euphrates: A Tale
Год выпуска 0
isbn 4064066137632
Автор произведения Deborah Alcock
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
Deborah Alcock
By Far Euphrates: A Tale
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066137632
Table of Contents
Chapter V BARON MUGGURDITCH THOMASSIAN
Chapter VI ROSES AND BATH TOWELS
Chapter XI AN ADVENTUROUS RIDE
Chapter XII THE USE OF A REVOLVER
Chapter XIII WHAT PASTOR STEPANIAN THOUGHT
Chapter XIV A MODERN THERMOPYLÆ
Chapter XVI "THE DARK RIVER TURNS TO LIGHT"
Chapter XIX A GREAT CRIME CONSUMMATED
Chapter XX BY ABRAHAM'S POOL, AND ELSEWHERE
Chapter XXI "GOD SATISFIED AND EARTH UNDONE"
Chapter XXII GIVEN BACK FROM THE DEAD
Chapter XXIV UNDER THE FLAG OF ENGLAND
PREFACE
Many a tale of blood and tears has come to us of late from far Euphrates, and from the regions round about. It is not so much the aim of the following pages to tell these over again as to show the light that, even there, shines through the darkness. "I do set My bow in the cloud" is true of the densest, most awful cloud of human misery. As in the early ages of Christianity, "what little child, what tender woman" was there
"Who did not clasp the cross with a light laugh,
Or wrap the burning robe round, thanking God"?
As in later times, of no less fervent faith, "men took each other's hands and walked into the fire, and women sang a song of triumph while the gravedigger was shovelling the earth over their living faces," so now, in our own days, there still walks in the furnace, with His faithful servants, "One like unto the Son of God."
Every instance of faith or heroism given in these pages is not only true in itself, but typical of a hundred others. The tale is told, however feebly and inadequately, to strengthen our own faith and quicken our own love. It is told also to stir our own hearts to help and save the remnant that is left. The past is past, and we cannot change it now; but we CAN still save from death, or from fates worse than death, the children of Christian parents, who are helpless and desolate orphans because their parents were Christians, and true to the Faith they professed and the Name they loved.
D. ALCOCK.
Chapter I THE DARK RIVER
"A thousand streams of lovelier flow
Bathed his own native land."
The Eastern sun was near its setting. Everywhere beneath its beams stretched out a vast, dreary campaign—pale yellowish brown—with low rolling hills, bare of vegetation. There was scarcely anything upon which the eye of man could rest with interest or satisfaction, except one little clump of plane trees, beside which a party of travellers had spread their tents. They had spent the day in repose, for they intended to spend the night in travelling; since, although summer was past and autumn had come, the heat was still great.
The tent in the centre of the little encampment was occupied by an Englishman and his son, to whom all the rest were but guides, or servants, or guards. The Syrians, the Arabs, and the Turkish zaptiehs who filled these offices were resting from their labours, having tethered their horses under the trees.
It was about time for them to be stirring now, to attend to the animals, to make the coffee, and to do other needful things in preparation for the journey. But they were used to wait for a signal from their master for the time being—Mr. Grayson, or Grayson Effendi, as they generally called him. Pending this, they saw no reason to shorten their repose, though a few of them sat up, yawned, and began to take out their tobacco pouches, and to employ themselves in making cigarettes.
Presently, from the Effendi's own tent, a slight boyish form emerged, and trod softly through the rest. "Hohannes Effendi"—so the Turks and