The sun was just setting when little Christian reached the Wicket-gate. He had walked very quickly, for he did not wish to be in the fields after the darkness came on, and he was now so tired that he felt very glad indeed to see the gate quite close to him.
It stood in a beautiful stone archway; and over it hung a lamp, which burned so brightly that its light could be seen even when the sun was shining. Round the top of the arch some words were carved upon the stone, and little Christian stopped to read them. The words were these:
That was just what Evangelist said, thought Christian, and he began to knock upon the door. He listened but he could not hear anyone coming, so he knocked again, and in a few minutes the door was opened by a man who looked something like Evangelist. He wore the same kind of long robe, and his face was grave and quiet. He smiled when he saw Christian and said, “Who is this little child?”
“I am little Christian,” replied the boy. “May I come in?”
“Are you come from the City of Destruction?” asked the man, whose name was Goodwill.
“Yes, and I wish to go to the King.”
Then Goodwill opened the gate quite wide and took little Christian by the hand. As he was stepping in, Goodwill gave him a pull.
“Why did you do that?” asked Christian.
And Goodwill answered, “The Wicked Prince has a castle very near to this gate, and when he sees anyone leaving his country and entering the Way of the King, he commands his soldiers to shoot arrows at him.”
Little Christian looked out and saw the arrows lying upon the ground, and he felt very pleased to see Goodwill close the door.
“Now I am safe,” he said.
Goodwill led him into his own house, which was just beyond the gate, and made him sit down to rest while he prepared some food for him.
“Who told you the way to the gate?” he asked.
“Evangelist,” replied little Christian. “And he said you would tell me where to go next.”
“Yes, I will tell you. But how is it that you came alone? Have you no father or mother?”
“My mother is with the King, and my father has so much to do that he cannot spare time for a journey, so I was obliged to come by myself.”
“If your mother is with the King, she must have passed through this gate. No doubt you will hear of her as you go on your way.”
“Do you think I shall?” said little Christian eagerly, for the greatest wish he had was to know something more of that dear mother whom he had lost so long ago. “Help said that the King would tell her I was coming, and she would look out for me. Is that true?”
“Quite true. You will not see her until you reach the Celestial City, but she will often be able to see you. Have you come straight from home? Did not the boys try to persuade you to stay with them?”
“Obstinate and Pliable came after me, and Obstinate was angry; but Pliable said he would like to go to the Celestial City. Then we fell into the Slough, and he was frightened, so he went back again. I thought I should never get out, but Help came, and he was very good to me.”
“And what then?”
Little Christian blushed. “I was as bad as Pliable,” he said, “for when I met Worldly, I listened to him and turned away toward the village. The road was so dreadful, and I was afraid the rocks would crush me. But Evangelist found me and brought me into the fields again.”
“And now you have entered the King’s gate, and you are one of His little pilgrims. Tonight you must sleep here, and tomorrow I will show you the way to the Celestial City.”