Coals of Fire

Gary came home from school with a rapid step and impetuous manner. His mother looked up from her work. There was a round, red spot on his check, and an ominous glitter in his eyes. She knew the signs. His naturally fierce temper had been stirred in some way to a heat that had kindled his whole nature. He tossed down his cap, threw himself on an ottoman at her feet, and then said, with still a little of the heat of his temper in his voice, “Never say, after this, that I don’t love you, Mother.”

“I think I never did say so,” she answered gently, as she passed her hand over the tawny locks, and brushed them away from the flushed brow. “But what special thing have you done to prove your love for me just now””

“Taken a blow without returning it.”

She bent over and kissed her boy. He was fifteen years old, a tall fellow with strong muscles; but he had not grown above liking his mother’s kisses. Then she said softly, “Tell me about it, Gary.”

“Oh, it was Darryl. You know what a mean fellow he is, anyhow. He had been tormenting some of the younger boys till I could not stand it. Everyone of them is afraid of him.

“I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, and tried to make him leave off, till, after a while, he turned from them, and coming to me, he struck me in the face. I believe the mark is still there now;” and he turned the other cheek toward his mother. Her heart was filled with sympathy and secret indignation.

“Well,” she said, “and you ” what did you do””

“I remembered what I had promised you for this year, and I took it – think of it, Mother – took it, and never touched him! I just looked into his eyes, and said, “If I strike you back, I should lower myself to your level.”

“He laughed a great, scornful laugh, and said, “you hear, boys, Gary”s turned into a preacher. You had better wait, sir, before you lecture me on my behaviour to the little ones, till you have courage enough to defend them. I don”t want to hear anything more from a coward like you.”

“The boys laughed, and some of them said, “Good for you, Darryl!” And I came home. I had done it for the sake of my promise to you! For I”m stronger than he is, any day; and you know, Mother, whether there”s a drop of coward”s blood in my veins. I thought you were the one to comfort me; though it isn”t comfort I want so much, either. I just want you to release me from that promise, and let me go back and thrash him.”

Mrs. Morgan”s heart thrilled with silent thanksgiving. Her boy”s temper had been her greatest grief. His father was dead, and she had brought him up alone, and sometimes she was afraid her too great tenderness had spoiled him.

She had tried in vain to curb his passionate nature. It was a power which no bands could bind. She had concluded at last that the only hope was in enlisting his own powerful will, and making him resolve to conquer himself. Now he had shown himself capable of self-control. In the midst of his anger he had remembered his promise to his mother and had kept it. He would yet be his own master, — this brave boy of hers, — and the kingdom of his own mind would be a goodly sovereignty.

“Better heap coals of fire on his head!” she said quietly.

“Yes, he deserves a good scorching,” he pretended to misunderstand her, “But I did not think you would be so revengeful.”

“You know well enough what kind of coals I mean, and who it was that said, “If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink.” I cannot release you from your promise till the year for which you made it is over.

“I think that the Master who told us to render good for evil, understood all the wants and passions of humanity better than any other teacher has ever understood them. I am sure that what He said must be wise and right and best. I want you to try His way first. If that fails, there will be time enough after this year to make a different experiment.”

“Well, I promised you,” he said, “and I will show you that, at least, I”m strong enough to keep my word until you release me from it. I think, though, you don”t quite know how hard it is.”

Mrs. Morgan knew that it was very hard for a true, brave-hearted boy to be called a coward; but she knew, also, that the truest bravery on earth is the bravery of endurance.

“Look out for the coals of fire!” she said smilingly, as her boy started for school the next morning. “Keep a good watch, and I”m pretty sure you will find them before the summer is over.”

But he came home at night depressed and a little gloomy. There had always been a sort of rivalry between him and Darryl, and now the boys seemed to have gone over to the stronger side, and he had that bitter feeling of humiliation and disgrace, which is as bitter to a boy as the sense of defeat ever is to a man.

The weeks went on, and the feeling wore away a little. Still the memory of that blow rankled in Gary”s mind, and made him unsocial and ill at ease. His mother watched him with some anxiety, but did not interfere. She had the true wisdom to leave him to learn some of the lessons of life alone.

Finally the last day of school came, and the next day there was a picnic in which all the teachers and students were to join.

Gary hesitated a little and then decided to go. The place selected was a lovely spot, known as “the old mill.” It was on the banks of a river, where the stream runs fast, and the grass was green, and great trees with drooping boughs shut away the July sunlight.

Among the rest were Darryl and his little sister Helen, the one human being whom he seemed to really and tenderly love. The teacher”s eyes were on him for this one day, and he did not venture to insult the older teacher or domineer over the little ones. He and Gary kept apart as much as they conveniently could; and Gary entered into the spirit of the day, and really enjoyed it much better than he anticipated.

The picnic lunch was spread on the grass, and it was delicious. They made the lunch last as long as they could, and then they scattered here and there, to enjoy themselves as they liked.

On the bridge, just above the falls, stood a little group, fishing. Among them were Darryl and his sister. Gary, always deeply interested in the study of botany, was a little distance away, with one of the teachers, pulling in pieces a curious flower.

Suddenly a wild cry arose above the sultry stillness of the summer afternoon and the hum of quiet voices round. It was Darryl”s cry: “She”s in, boys! Helen”s in the river, and I can”t swim. Oh, save her! Save her! Will no one try””

Before the words were out of his lips, they all saw Gary coming with flying feet, — a race for life. He unbuttoned coat and vest as he ran, and cast them off as he neared the bridge. He kicked off his shoes, and threw himself over.

They heard him hit the water. He went under, rose again, and then struck out towards the golden head, which just then rose for the second time. Every one who stood there lived moments which seemed hours.

Mr. Sharp, the teacher with whom Gary had been talking, and some of the boys, got a strong rope, and running down the stream, threw it on the water just above the falls, where Gary could reach it if he could get so near the shore ” if.

The water was very deep where Helen had fallen in, and the river ran fast. It was sweeping the poor child on, and Darryl threw himself upon the bridge, and sobbed and screamed. When she rose the third time, she was near the falls. A moment more and she would go over, down on the jagged, cruel rocks beneath.

But that time Gary caught her ” caught her by her long, glistening, golden hair. Mr. Sharp shouted to him. He saw the rope, and swam towards it, his strong right arm beating the water back with hammer strokes ” his left motionless, holding his white burden.

“O God!” Mr. Sharp prayed fervently, “keep him up, and spare his strength a little longer, a little longer!” A moment more and he reached the rope and clung to it desperately, while teacher and boys drew the two in over the slippery edge, out of the horrible, seething waters, and took them in their arms. But they were both silent and motionless. Mr. Sharp spoke Gary”s name, but he did not answer. Would either of them ever answer again”

The teachers went to work for their restoration. It was well that they had intelligent guidance, or their best efforts might have failed.

Gary, being the stronger, was first to revive. “Is Helen safe”” he asked.

“Only God knows,” Mr. Sharp answered. “We are doing our best.”

It was almost half an hour before Helen opened her blue eyes. In the meantime Darryl had been utterly frantic and helpless. He had sobbed and groaned and even prayed, in a wild fashion of his own, which perhaps the pitying Father understood and answered.

When he heard his sister”s voice, he was like one beside himself with joy; but Mr. Sharp quieted him by a few low, firm words, which no one else understood.

Some of the larger girls arranged one of the wagons and placed Helen into it.

Mr. Sharp drove home with Gary. When he reached his mother”s gate, Gary insisted on going in alone. He thought it might alarm her to see someone helping him; besides, he wanted her a few minutes quite to himself. His mother saw him coming, and opened the door.

“Where have you been”” she cried, seeing his wet, disordered clothing.

“In the river, Mother, fishing out Helen.”

Then, while she was busy preparing for his comfort, he quietly told his story. His mother”s eyes were dim, and her heart throbbed chokingly.

“O, if you had been drowned, my boy, my darling!” she cried, hugging him close, wet as he was. “If I had been there, Gary, I couldn”t have let you do it.”

“I went in after the coals of fire, Mother.”

Mrs. Morgan knew how to laugh as well as to cry over her boy. “I”ve heard of people smart enough to set the river on fire,” she said, “But you are the first one I ever knew who went in there after coals.”

The next morning a group of boys came to visit Gary, with Darryl at their head. Every one was there who had seen the blow which Darryl struck, and heard his taunts afterward. They came into the sitting room, and spoke with Gary before his mother. Darryl was the spokesman.

“I have come,” he said, “To ask you to forgive me. I struck you a mean, unjustifiable blow. You received it with noble contempt. To provoke you into fighting, I called you a coward, meaning to bring you down by some means to my own level. You bore that, too, with greatness I was not great enough to understand; but I do understand it now.

“I have seen you ” all we boys have seen you ” face to face with Death, and have seen that you were not afraid of him. You fought with him, and came off ahead; and we are come to do honour to the bravest boy in town; and I thank you for a life a great deal dearer and better worth saving than my own.”

Darryl broke down just there, for the tears choked him.

Gary was as grand in his forgiveness as he had been in his forbearance.

Helen and her father and mother came afterward, and Gary found himself a hero before he knew it. But none of it all moved him as did his mother”s few fond words, and the pride in her joyful eyes. He had kept, with honour and with peace, his pledge to her, and he had his reward. The Master”s way of peace had not missed him.