Silver Wings (11 page)

The nose of his plane was pointing desperately downward now, and he spoke out loud. “Oh, God! If You’ll just right me now, I’ll take time off as soon as I get to New York and try to find You!”

He was not aware that he was praying. He was working all the time, and now his desperate fingers touched some vital part of the machinery, and suddenly the engine spoke. With a great sigh like a relieved prisoner, it spoke, then sighed, then roared, and bit hold of the air again. Gareth felt the plane quiver beneath him, felt the great bird rise, and knew that he was in control again. Up and up, till the little village was safely far away, out and beyond and away from that place where God had stopped him on his way, he flew. What had been the matter he did not know. None of the reasoning that he had been taught fitted the facts. By all the laws of science, he ought to be a wreck on some of those little cottage roofs over there. If what had seemed to happen had been true, his engine could not of itself have righted itself.

If the fault had been in himself, some mental aberration, it had never happened before, and he could not account for it any more than he could account for some strange break in his machinery that had miraculously cured itself and gone on. But if it was his own mental breakdown that had caused that almost horrible accident, then he ought never to fly again.

As he went steadily, strongly on again into the morning, the trembling in his limbs slowly steadying, his confidence returning rapidly, his brain clearing keenly, he came to a conclusion. Whatever the immediate cause of that sudden cessation of machinery, whether actual or mental; whether it could ever be clearly demonstrated or not for the satisfaction of any who might learn of the happening; for himself he was satisfied that God had been calling his attention, and he knew that the vow he had made in the stress of his anxiety must be kept as soon as he reached his destination.

And now, as he drew a deep breath of thankfulness and realized that he was really going on normally again, he understood that the safest thing to do would be to seek a good landing field where he could find a mechanic, and go over his machinery carefully before he progressed further. In his heart he did not believe that this was necessary. He felt in his spirit that the thing would not happen again; nevertheless, he knew that he had no right to take chances after a warning like this, so he sought a field a few miles farther ahead and went down.

It took some time to go carefully over every part, but conscientiously he let nothing escape, and finally satisfied that he had done all that the best flyer alive could do in like circumstances, he embarked and set sail once more.

It was late when he reached New York. The men he was to meet were impatient. They had made their plans, and they wanted him to be ready to start on his recordsetting hop the next morning. It mattered nothing to them that the next morning would be the Sabbath day. The better the day, the better the deed. As his sponsors, they felt the time was ripe for his particular stunt, and they would brook no delay.

Neither did the day mean anything to Gareth. But there was something on his mind.

“I’m not at all sure I can make it,” he said firmly. “There is something I must do first.”

“How long will it take you?”

“Why, I can’t tell you that. It may take only an hour or two. I can’t tell till I try.”

“But couldn’t someone do it for you? You know, Kingsley, it’s important that we seize the right moment. Your act is the logical follow-up of Norrington’s trip last week, and we have information that makes it pretty sure the Boris Brothers are planning to do something along these same lines within a few days now. We’ve got to beat ’em to it, you know, or your goose is cooked!”

“Can’t help it!” said Gareth pleasantly, with his good-natured grin. “This has got to be done first.”

“But what’s the nature of this duty? Can’t you tell us? Maybe we can help hurry it up.”

Gareth looked at them earnestly, those four hardheaded businessmen, holding the purse strings tight and opening the bag only to let more money in. He saw himself asking any one of those men how to find God. How could they help him? They did not know God themselves. They did not believe in Him. But he did, now! He knew there was a God, and he meant to find Him before he did anything else. Never would he venture into the air again until he had within himself the talisman of which the little blue-eyed Amory had told him.

So, though they urged and bullied and bribed, he was firm, till they hurried him off at last and told him to make it snappy, that the world was waiting for his return, and thousands of dollars were hanging in the balance.

Gareth went out. He had no idea where he was going.

He stepped into a cheap little restaurant and swallowed a cup of bitter coffee, and then he started out on the street to find a church. Saturday afternoon, and the half-holiday crowds out in full force. He was not familiar with churches in New York, nor anywhere else, but his common sense told him that a church ought to be the place where he might find out about God. It did not occur to him that most churches were not open on Saturday afternoons.

But after walking blocks he did find a church with its side door open, and stepping in, he met a janitor.

“Yes, the minister’s in,” said the janitor. “He just came into his study awhile back to get a book or two. I don’t think he’s left yet, but I’m not so sure he can see you. He doesn’t see callers afternoons usually, especially not Saturday afternoons. Have you an appointment? I could give him your name.”

“No,” said Gareth, “but you can tell him I won’t keep him long. I just wanted to ask him a question or two.”

“You’re not a salesman, are you? He won’t see salesmen at all.”

“No, I’m an aviator,” Gareth said with a laugh.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to tell him what you’ve come about, would you? So he might judge if he could see you today or not? Because he might want you to wait till Monday.”

Now he was here, Gareth felt a strange reluctance toward telling his errand to any but a man of God.

“I can’t wait till Monday. I’m in a hurry, and it’s important. I must tell him myself what my errand is, and if he can’t see me now, I’ll have to go to someone else.”

At that the janitor trudged away. He soon came back and led Gareth through a hallway into a pleasant room, nicely furnished and lined from floor to ceiling with books.

The minister was seated behind a big mahogany desk, and when he saw Gareth’s uniform and his engaging grin, he came out of his comfortable chair to meet him, for he had feared that after all his denials, this must be another form of salesman.

“I’m in a hurry,” said Gareth as he sat down in the chair opposite the minister, “and perhaps you are, too. I’ll come to the point at once. I’m an aviator, and I’m going on a trip within the next few hours. Something has made me feel I need God. I don’t have a clue how to go about it, and I figured you’d be able to tell me in a few minutes just what I ought to do.”

“Why, that’s very commendable, my dear fellow.” said the minister pleasantly. It had been many a day since anyone had come to him inquiring the way to God. “Very commendable indeed. What—ah, were you thinking of? Did you wish to connect yourself with our church before you start on your voyage? That could be done. We usually have our communion service every three months, and we receive new members at that time. We had our usual communion service last Sunday, I regret to say, but of course if there is special need of haste, it could be arranged privately, say, tomorrow, if you wish. Was that your idea?”

Gareth looked puzzled. “No,” he said, hesitating, “I don’t know anything about churches. I’ve never had much to do with them. I just want to get sort of acquainted with God. A friend told me I ought to know God. She seemed troubled that I wasn’t what she called ‘saved.’ ”

“I see,” said the minister. “You wish to take some sort of a stand on the Lord’s side. That is very gratifying indeed. Very commendable! I suppose, my dear fellow, that you would perhaps like to have the ordinance of baptism administered. That is a simple matter, of course, unless perhaps you have already been baptized?”

Gareth still looked puzzled. “Do you mean was I christened? I don’t believe I ever was. I never heard of it. I don’t think it was a custom in our family. But what has that got to do with being saved?”

“Why, my dear fellow, we are told to believe and be baptized. Of course, I do not mean to say that baptism is necessary to salvation. It is not a saving ordinance, but it is the outward sign. I am taking it for granted that you believe?”

“I never have before,” answered Gareth thoughtfully, “but something happened that made me sure I do. Of course, I know absolutely nothing about this line—that’s why I came to you.”

“Well, then, my dear fellow, I would advise you to be baptized. We could arrange it tomorrow morning quietly before the service, here in my study, if you prefer.”

“But what is baptism for?” persisted the puzzled young man. “I’ve heard of it, of course, but it never meant a thing in my young life.”

“Why, baptism,” said the minister deliberately, “is a symbol of the inward cleansing, the cleansing of your soul.” Gareth looked helpless. “Is that all?” he asked. “Isn’t there anything for me to do?”

It all seemed so hopelessly indefinite. It had not occurred to him that his soul needed cleansing. He had no sense of sin.

“Oh, of course, my dear fellow, there are the means of grace. Attendance on divine worship, reading of the Holy Scriptures, prayer, giving to worthy causes. Those are all helps to a life hid with Christ in God.”

Gareth felt as if he were going deeper and deeper and getting nowhere. Why couldn’t the man use language he understood? But he assented helplessly. He had a wistful feeling that if only that little girl with the clear blue eyes were here, she would make it all plain. But she was not here, and he must do the best he could and make haste about it.

It was arranged that Gareth would be baptized the next morning at ten o’clock. The minister did not feel that he could bring it about sooner, as it was customary to have some member or members of his church present, and he felt sure he would not be able to reach any of them before the morning hour.

Gareth left the minister, half hesitating, feeling that he had done all he knew how to do, yet knowing there was a lack somewhere. If only he had asked Amory what she meant by being saved! She seemed to have some real definite idea back of her words, something that the old man with all his dignity did not seem to understand.

Perhaps it was her pure childlike faith in things unseen. But where did she get it? What had she got to rest it upon? The minister had talked in high-sounding phrases that Gareth had never heard before and got him nowhere. Why hadn’t he asked the girl what she meant and how he could get it?

It was almost twilight when he went out into the street again. He looked uncertainly about and felt dissatisfied. He wished he knew something more to do.

He went finally to a telephone booth and called up the four men who were his sponsors for the trip. He told them it was possible he might be able to start tomorrow at noon, if the weather conditions were favorable. They grumbled a little but accepted his decision because they knew they had to do so. He was a young man who usually knew his own mind.

Five minutes later a paragraph for the last edition of the evening papers was telephoned to the Associated Press.

G
areth went to a hotel and ate his dinner. Then, instead of hunting up some friends for a jolly evening as he would naturally have done at another time, he went to his room and took out the little book. He felt he had a duty to perform, a problem to work out that somehow might be solved by that book.

He opened the book to the flyleaf first and read the neat inscription:

There followed a date and the name of a town that the young man had never heard of; below was written in a cramped little-girl hand, “Mother dear went home to heaven”—and another date a year and a half later than the first.

The young man’s eyes clouded with tears. So this book that he had so lightly begged from her was a treasure, a precious memorial of a beloved mother. A link between her little girlhood and her present life. He could hardly remember his own mother. For a moment he thought perhaps he should send it back to her at once, and then he remembered her eyes as she had said gravely, “I want you to have it.”

No, he would not return it. He wanted to read it first. But he would take it back to her on his return, or, if anything happened to him, they would send the little book to her. He would see to that. He would keep it in an addressed envelope in his pocket while he flew, so that if he was wrecked the book might stand a chance of finding her again. And that this might not fail, he went at once before he had looked further into its pages and addressed one of the hotel envelopes to Miss Amory Lorrimer at Briarcliffe. When he had stamped it with more than enough postage to mail the book, he went back to his reading.

He discovered that there were marked verses, and sometimes marked chapters. One said in fine little printing, “I learned this chapter on my tenth birthday.”

Another was marked, “The verse my mother loved,” and still another, “A verse I love to think about.”

Bit by bit he gathered up a picture of her life, this sweet child whom he had come upon so unexpectedly and seen but for a few minutes, and when he read the verses she had marked, he seemed to be looking into her soul and seeing things in the book as she had seen them. It seemed to open an amazing new world to him. He had not dreamed there was a girl in the world who lived in the thought of God in this intimate way.

Skipping through the book from one marked verse to another, he came on some amazing facts about God as revealed in Christ, and when at last he lay down to rest, he carried the little book with him and slept with it in his hand. He had a strange feeling that his experience in the clouds that morning had changed the whole of life for him, yet he had as yet no definite idea of what it might be going to mean.