Star of Light (13 page)

But not one of the boys who had collected to see what was going on knew where Hamid was. He had been at his job that morning, and was last seen heading for the mountains. Everyone volunteered to go look for him, and they scattered in all directions, for the Englishman would no doubt reward the finder handsomely. But no one succeeded in finding Hamid, for he was far up the ravine between the great rocks, throwing stones at the monkeys. So frightened was he of meeting his stepfather that he stayed there till long after sunset and missed the boys’ meeting for the first time in many weeks.

The police, when they heard the story, were polite and sympathetic but not very hopeful. They promised
to telephone the government outposts in the mountains to watch the main tracks and check up on travelers. But even if the child was found, what was there to prove that she did not belong to her captors?

There was no more they could do, so they went sorrowfully back to Aunt Rosemary’s house to have some tea. But none of them felt hungry, and after a while Mr. and Mrs. Swift got up to go. Jenny, pale and wretched, followed them, still not daring to look at her aunt, who had actually hardly given her naughtiness a thought yet. She was far too worried about what could have happened to Kinza.

Rosemary was glad to be left alone. She carried out the tea things and then came back into her little room and knelt down, meaning to pray for Kinza. But the kitten sprang up beside her, mewing for its little playmate, and under the cushion on which she rested her arms was something hard and knobby— Kinza’s wooden doll. She gazed around the room, and there was Kinza’s ball, Kinza’s mat, Kinza’s box of sweets that Jenny had given her. Everywhere she looked, there were signs of the missing, loved little girl, and Rosemary suddenly laid her head down on her arms and cried. Where was Kinza? What was happening to her? How terrified and homesick she would be, how helpless in her blind darkness! “Oh, God,” she cried, “take care of her; don’t let her be hurt or afraid; bring her back safely to me.”

As she prayed she heard a little sob behind her and realized she was not alone in the room. She looked up quickly, and there in the doorway stood Jenny, white-faced and swollen-eyed with crying.

“Jenny!” exclaimed Rosemary. “Does your Mummy know you’ve come?”

“Yes,” said Jenny with a gulp. “I said I must see you alone, so Mummy brought me back to the door. You forgot to lock it, so I just came in, and she says please will you see me home when you’ve finished with me. I don’t suppose you want to see me at all … because … because … it was all my fault about Kinza. Oh, Auntie, whatever shall I do?”

The last words came out with a rush of fresh tears, and Rosemary drew the trembling girl into the room, shut the door, and sat down beside her.

“You can’t do anything, Jenny,” she said gently, “but God loves Kinza far more than we do, and He can do everything. Let’s kneel down and ask God together to shelter little Kinza and comfort her and keep her safe.”

So they knelt side by side, and Rosemary prayed that Jesus would protect Kinza. Jenny listened and wondered, more miserable than she had ever been before.
It’s all very well for Aunt Rosemary
, she thought. When dreadful things happened to her, she had a place where she could find forgiveness and peace and comfort. But Jenny knew no such refuge. She felt shut out in the dark. She would never forgive herself, and neither would anyone else, if Kinza was really lost.

For the first time in her life, her naughtiness had really mattered, and there seemed no escape from the terrible results of it. Nearly every day she was self-willed and lost her temper if she couldn’t get what she wanted. But Mummy and Daddy were always
nice and understanding about it, and remembered that, after all, she had been ill for three months. Now she had gone her own way and disobeyed once too often.

If only Kinza could come back
, said Jenny to herself,
I would never be disobedient or naughty again. I’d be good forever and ever
.

Rescue Plans

R
osemary spent most of the next day trying to trace Hamid, but Hamid was apparently determined not to be traced. Why should the English nurse want him urgently just then? Perhaps his stepfather had spoken to her and she was going to hand him over. It was all most suspicious, and Hamid decided to keep clear of her.

However, the English nurse was so determined to find him that, on being told that Hamid had gone up into the mountains early, she canceled her boys’ meeting and settled herself just before sunset behind the pillar of the great stone archway through which he was likely to return. Before long, a weary little figure skulked in through the shadows, and she grabbed hold of him by what remained of his shirt.

For a moment he struggled violently, but she spoke to him at once, and her words stopped him immediately and he stood still. “Hamid,” she was saying pleadingly, “I’ve lost Kinza. Please can you help me find her again? Do you know where she might have gone?”

She kept tight hold of him, and he stood rigidly in front of her, gazing up at her uncertainly. At first he was too startled to think, but gradually his mind cleared and he began to put two and two together. If Kinza had disappeared, her stepfather had certainly taken her home. And if the nurse was searching for her, then she did not know about their stepfather. But it did not seem safe to tell; it might lead to contact with the police, and no little street boy ever wishes to have anything to do with the police. Or it might lead to meeting his family—or it might all be a trick or a trap. It was far safer to deny everything and have nothing to do with it.

And yet, if he refused to speak, Kinza was lost, and all his efforts were wasted. Kinza had been so happy, so healthy, so safe. Now she would be sold to the beggar—why else should his stepfather want her?—and he would not be there to protect her.

“I don’t know anything about it,” he said warily after a long pause, but the nurse felt quite sure that he knew a great deal about it—though it might be difficult to worm it out of him. She must proceed very carefully.

“Let’s go home and have some supper together,” she said soothingly, “and we can talk about it in the house. You must be hungry after being on the mountain all day.”

Since he had had little to eat since the evening before, having not been to work, he was ravenously hungry. There was a gnawing pain inside him, and unless he accepted the English nurse’s offer, there was very little chance of food that night. It was rather risky to go to her house because, after all, it might be a trick. But he was so hungry!

Nobody can make me talk
, he thought, so he slipped a dirty little hand into the hand of the English nurse, and she clasped it firmly and did not let go until they were safely inside her house with the door locked behind them.

She led Hamid upstairs to the room where he had once seen Kinza asleep, and he sat down cross-legged on the mat, sniffing the delicious smell of hot rice and vegetables cooking in the pot on the fire. She brought him a steaming bowlful and a great hunk of bread, and then fetched her own. She did not question him while he ate, for he was completely absorbed in his food, but she watched him thoughtfully. He was so like Kinza in looks—the same dark, bright eyes, heart-shaped face, and determined mouth. She waited until the last drop of food was gone, and the bowl wiped clean with a crust of bread, and then she spoke with a certainty that she did not feel.

“Hamid,” she said very firmly, “do you know who has stolen away your little sister, Kinza? If you know, you must tell me, because I want to get her back again.”

The English nurse was very tired, very strained, and very afraid that her guess was wrong. Her voice,
which had been quite firm, quivered a little as she finished speaking, and that quiver reassured Hamid. This was no trick. It was the honest cry of a loving heart.

“I think my stepfather got her,” he replied. “I saw him watching her in the market yesterday. He followed her right across the square, but I thought she was safe with you.”

The nurse was surprised by her success, but she did not show it. She went on speaking very quietly. “Where does your stepfather live?”

Hamid told her the name of the village.

“Didn’t he know she was with me?”

“No.”

The nurse made another guess. “Why did you put her in my passage that night?”

“My mother told me to.”

“Why?”

“My stepfather did not want Kinza. He was going to sell her to a beggar. Kinza would have been very unhappy, so my mother sent her to you.”

“And now?”

“My stepfather will sell her to the beggar. He wants the money.”

The nurse shuddered. Kinza’s prospects were far worse than she had imagined, and she must save her somehow. She went on quietly questioning. “How far is the village?”

“Two days’ journey on a horse—but my stepfather probably came by road on a market truck. That only takes about six hours.”

“And you—how did you come?”

“Partly on a truck, mostly walking.”

“And Kinza?”

“On my back.”

The nurse marveled at his courage. Surely Hamid, who had dared so much for Kinza’s sake, would help her now!

“And if I went to your village and offered to pay your father more than the beggar, would he let me buy back Kinza?”

“I don’t know; he might. But how would you know the house? There are many parts of the village with hills between.”

“You must come with me and show me.”

“I can’t. My stepfather would beat me dreadfully if I went home.”

“You need not go home. You can point out the house from a distance.”

“But everyone in the village knows me. They will tell my stepfather.”

“We will arrive after sunset in Mr. and Mrs. Swift’s car. No one will see you in the dark. Surely you will do this to save Kinza.”

Hamid scratched his head doubtfully, battling with his fears.

“Hamid,” she pleaded, “if you refuse I won’t be able to find her. The beggar will have her, and she will suffer and be cold and hungry in the streets of a big city, and all her life she’ll live in the dark. If she comes back to me, she will grow up happily, and I will teach her about the Lord Jesus and how He loves her. I’ve told you about Him so often, Hamid. Do you believe in Him yet?”

He glanced up at her shyly, but his eyes were bright. “I love the Lord Jesus very much,” he replied simply. “He has forgiven me for all I have done wrong and made my heart happy.”

“Then He can also make your heart brave,” she urged. “Let’s ask Him now, Hamid, to take away your fear and to save Kinza.”

He shut his eyes obediently, and as the nurse prayed he repeated the words after her. While he was speaking, two thoughts came into his mind. If the Lord Jesus really loved him, He would not let his stepfather beat him, and so there was nothing to be afraid of. He also thought what fun it would be to drive all the way to his village in the Englishman’s big, fast, grey car.

Even while he prayed, the Spirit of God breathed happy, brave thoughts into his troubled heart, so when they had finished praying he was quite ready to agree to the nurse’s suggestions, and he finally left the house feeling very excited. As he wandered across the marketplace, he imagined himself sitting upright at the car window, waving proudly like a king to his friends. He suddenly laughed with delight and skipped in the air. His stepfather would do anything for money, and the nurse would certainly offer more than the beggar would give.

As soon as he had left the house, Rosemary set off for the hotel to discuss her plan with Mr. and Mrs. Swift. They had taken Jenny up into the mountains for a picnic, but she had not wanted to go and had been in a bad mood all day.

She found them sitting in the lounge looking tired
and depressed.

“Has anything happened?” they asked eagerly, jumping up as soon as they saw her.

“Yes,” said Rosemary, unable to hide her excitement. She dropped into an empty chair, and leaning forward, she poured out the wonderful story.

“Of course, I’ve gone and fixed it all up with Hamid without consulting you,” she ended, “but I felt quite sure you’d be willing, because you’ve been so concerned about Kinza. We would have to start tomorrow afternoon—it’s about six hours’ drive—in order to arrive after sunset. Then Hamid says it’s a good walk on beyond where the car can go. We would not be back till after midnight, but I didn’t think you’d mind that.”