The pilgrims were very happy in the Land of Delight. The King’s servants provided homes for them all and told them what work they must do. Mr. Despondency and Feeble-Mind had only to rest quietly until the King sent for them, but the younger ones each had their own duties to perform.
Christiana spent much of her time in teaching James and Joseph, and she often went with others of the King’s servants to welcome the new pilgrims who came into the country nearly every day. Sometimes she stole quietly away with Mercy to walk by the side of the Dark River. The sight of the troubled waters made Mercy tremble, but Christiana always looked beyond them at the beautiful golden light. And at last Mercy began to lose her fear, and she tried to feel as Christiana did, that the coming of the King’s messenger would be the beginning of a greater happiness than any she had yet known.
“If only the water were less dark and rough,” she used to say, “or if I could have you to cross with me. But if I go alone it will be dreadful!”
“You should not think of the water at all,” Christiana always answered. “You should think of the glorious City and the King who lives there, and our dear Prince, and of the Shining Ones who will receive you. Oh, Mercy, you need not be afraid!”
But although her fear grew less, Mercy never liked to watch the river. She loved best to wander in the King’s gardens and talk to the children who spent so many hours among the vines and flowers. One duty that the King desired even of the tiniest children to perform was the gathering of flowers every day for the older pilgrims, especially for those who were very old and weak and not able to walk in the garden and enjoy the beauty and perfume of the growing blossoms.
After a time, when Innocence came to live once more with her sister, Mercy’s chief pleasure was to help the little girl in choosing her flowers and carrying them to her friends.
Old Mr. Honest often met them in the gardens in the early morning, and he used to say, “We old pilgrims are very happy, for the little pilgrims strew our way with flowers.”
In one of the houses a book was kept in which the King’s servants had written the names of many pilgrims who had crossed the river, and the stories of their lives. Matthew and Standfast studied this book very carefully and hoped that the King would someday allow them to fight for him as bravely as the soldiers of whom they read.
The lame boy, Ready-to-Halt, loved the book too, but his favorite stories were those of pilgrims who had been weak and feeble like himself.
“These are so many,” he said one day. “I think it is very comforting to read about them.”
And even Mr. Despondency seemed more cheerful when Ready-to-Halt came to see him and told him of the King’s love for the pilgrims—and how the Shining Ones made them their special care.