Io had been obliged in her interview with a medical adviser to give a detailed account of occurrences which had caused her the keenest pain; she had had to draw back a curtain to reveal a picture of the past on which it was agony to gaze. But Io’s naturally bright and buoyant disposition did not allow her to nurse her griefs for the past and her fears for the future, as some sufferers seem to find a morbid satisfaction in doing. The curtain was dropped again over the picture of woe. “Let the past be—as far as possible—forgotten; and for the future,” thus mused Io, “is there not a pitying Father who hath promised that all things shall work together for good to them that love Him? Can Inot trust that promise, and so lay down my burden of fears? Ihave so much, so very much, to make me thankful and happy. Iam the cherished wife of one of the noblest of men. Oscar has wonderfully recovered from his distressing illness, and though everything is not yet bright, Ibelieve—yes, Ido believe—that joy is coming. I will trust, and not be afraid; but oh! Iwould give all that Ihave in the world to hear Oscar laugh again.”

Io was like the fair lily which refuses to sink though the waters encompass it around. It lifts its bright head above them all, and smiles in the face of the sun. It even covers over those dark waters with the verdant leaves of hope; and if some drops, like tears, rest on the spreading leaves, even those tears, like diamonds, glitter in the light. It seemed less impossible to Io than it is to most people to rejoice always, for her trustful, restful spirit had found the secret of peace.

Mrs.Coldstream had also a perpetual source of pleasure in giving pleasure, of comfort in comforting others. She found delight in receiving the poor Karen as a gift from God. Mah-A (Io shortened the name to Maha) was something to cherish, to make happy, to lead to God, even as the Karen boy had been. Io was not self-absorbed; she knew little of that concentration of the mind on one’s own desires, pleasures, even failings, which perpetually drives the mind back on the centre of self. The natural flow of Io’s thoughts was outward and upward—towards the many whom she loved upon earth, and the One whom she worshipped in heaven. Thus Io rarely lacked something to make her happy, and she was constantly adding to the happiness of others.

Poor bereaved Maha could not resist the fascination of that loving manner, that winsome smile, which was to her sore heart like balm on a bleeding wound. The young Karen intuitively clung to her young mistress, and delighted to sit at her feet. As Maha looked up trustfully into Io’s face, Mrs.Coldstream thought that the dark eyes raised towards her were lovely; that there was beauty in the clearly-pencilled eyebrows and the fine, albeit tangled, black hair. Perhaps others would not have thought Maha pretty—Thud called her a flat-nosed fright—but none could deny that the young Karen’s figure was perfectly formed, and that her movements were graceful. The girl’s voice, too, was soft and melodious.

“Iam going to try to teach Maha a little about our blessed religion,” said Io to her husband one morning at breakfast.

“I’ve a theory that natives cannot understand anything that they cannot manipulate with their hands and masticate with their teeth,” was the formal dictum of Thud. “They cannot even imagine a god unless they see some hideous image with black face and half-a-dozen arms.”

“Karens are said to be free from idolatry,” was Coldstream’s quiet observation.

“Oh, people may say so, but Idon’t believe it,” said Thucydides Thorn. “I’m trying to discover why all brown and black skinned nations worship idols.” Thud’s head was poised a little on one side, for this was a weighty subject.

“You had better make sure that your theory, whatever it may be, is founded on facts,” observed Coldstream.

“Theories first, facts come afterwards,” said Thud solemnly—an observation which made Oscar faintly smile, and Io burst into a silvery laugh.

“You will next have a theory that trees should be planted root upwards, and people walk on their heads!” cried she.

“You need not laugh,” said Thud, a little offended; “you women know nothing of logic. Ican prove my assertion to be correct. Pray, which comes first—a thought, or an act?”

“The thought, if it prompt the act,” replied Io.

“There, Ihave caught you!” cried Thud triumphantly. “Theories are thoughts, and acts are facts; so facts must be founded on theories, not theories on facts;” and confident that he had gained a victory, and said something very logical and clever, Thucydides quitted the room, carrying his heavy head as high as his very short neck would allow.

After attending to household arrangements, Io called her dear little Karen to take her first Scripture lesson. “Ihad better commence from the beginning,” thought the lady, as she placed her large picture book on the sofa open at the representation of the serpent tempting Eve. Maha took her seat on the ground at her lady’s feet, and surveyed the picture—the first which she ever had seen—with grave and thoughtful eyes.

“Iam going to tell you a little of what is written in God’s great book, the Bible,” began Io in broken Karen, which was, however, almost always intelligible to the young girl. “Iam going to tell you how sin and sorrow came into the world. You see the woman in the picture: she was the first who ever lived on earth, and she is our mother—yours and mine. She lived with her husband in a beautiful garden. God placed them there—the great God who made and who loves us all.”

“Iknow that story,” said Maha quietly. “All we Karens who come from Bassein know it; our fathers told it to us, as their fathers told it to them.”

“What did they tell?” asked Io with interest, wondering whether it were possible that any legend of the Fall could exist amongst a race who, but a short time before, had not even a written language.

“Does the sahiba wish to hear the whole story of the first man and woman who lived in the garden?” asked Maha.

“Tell me everything that you know,” said Mrs.Coldstream.

Maha began in a half-chanting tone the following legend,1 to which, as she went on, her lady listened not only with curiosity, but with great pleasure and surprise:

“God created man. And of what did He create man? He created man at first from earth. The creation of man was finished. He created a woman. How did He create a woman? He took a rib out of the man and created again a woman. The creation of woman was finished.”

“Why, this is just what is written in the Bible!” cried Io. “Who taught you to read the holy Book?”

“We had no books; we knew nothing. It was like that,” said Maha in her natural tone, pointing to a ladder which was leaning against a pillar in the veranda. Maha rose, went to the spot, placed her hand on the ground, and said, “This is Maha;” then touching the first rung, “this father;” the second, “this father’s father; up, up, fathers and fathers—no count. Idon’t know who was the top one—that father long, long way off, perhaps right up in the clouds.”

“In the cloud of antiquity indeed,” thought Io. “Imust hear more of this legend. Come back here, Maha; sing me the rest of your song.”

Maha obeyed at once, resumed her place at Io’s feet, and with an occasional glance at the picture beside her, went on in the same chanting tone:—

“Father God said, ‘My son and daughter, your Father will make and give you a garden. In the garden are seven different kinds of trees bearing seven different kinds of fruit; among the seven one is not good to eat. Eat not of its fruit; if you eat you will become old and will die: eat not. All Ihave created Igive to you. Eat and drink with care. Once in seven days Iwill visit you. All Ihave commanded you, observe and do. Forget me not. Pray to me every morning and night.’”

“Every seven days!” thought Io to herself. “Have we amongst these poor natives a trace of the institution of the Sabbath, when man should specially meet his God?—Go on, my child,” she said aloud.

“Ishall have to tell you of a very bad king,” said Maha; “that is Ku-plau [the deceiver], but some call him Yaw-kaw [the neck-trodden].” It was not till afterwards that Io learned the meaning of these strangely appropriate titles given to the enemy of man. We shall change them to the name of Satan, as being more familiar to English readers.

“Afterwards Satan came and said, ‘Why are you here?’—‘Our Father God put us here,’ they replied.—‘What do you eat here?’ Satan inquired.—‘Our Father God created food and drink for us, food without end.’—Satan said, ‘Show me your food.’ And they went, with Satan following behind them, to show him. On arriving at the garden, they showed him the fruits, saying, ‘This is sweet, this is sour, this is bitter, this is sharp [astringent], this is savoury, this is fiery; but this tree, we know not whether it is sour or sweet. Our Father God said to us, “Eat not of the fruit of this tree; if you eat you will die.” We eat not, and do not know whether it be sour or sweet.’”

As she sang Maha touched the fruit which appeared on the tree in the picture, evidently connecting it with that in her legend.

“And what did Satan say to the man and woman?” asked Io.

“Very bad words,” answered the girl, and she then went on with her chant:—

“Satan replied, ‘The heart of your Father God is not with you. This is the richest and sweetest; it is richer than the others, sweeter than the others. And not merely richer and sweeter, but if you eat it you will possess miraculous powers: you will be able to ascend into heaven and descend into the earth; you will be able to fly. The heart of your God is not with you. The desirable thing he has not given you. Ilove you, and tell you the whole. Your Father God does not love you; he did not tell you the whole. If you do not believe me, do not eat it. Let each one eat carefully a single fruit, then you will know.’ The man replied, ‘Our Father God said to us, “Eat not the fruit of this tree,” and we eat not.’ Thus saying he rose up and went away.”

“How wonderfully this legend accords with what St.Paul reveals to us!” thought Io. “‘Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression.’”

“Is the sahiba tired of my song?” asked Maha.

“Oh no; Ilike extremely to hear it,” was Mrs.Coldstream’s reply.

Again rose the soft Karen chant:—

“But the woman listened to Satan, and thinking what he said was rather proper, remained. Satan deceived her completely, and she said to him, ‘If we eat, shall we indeed be able to fly?’—‘My son and daughter,’ said Satan, ‘Ipersuade you because Ilove you.’ The woman took of the fruit and ate. Satan laughing said, ‘My daughter, you listen to me well; now go, give the fruit to your husband and say to him, “Ihave eaten the fruit; it is exceedingly rich.” If he does not eat, deceive him that he may eat.’ The woman, doing as Satan told her, went and coaxed her husband, till she won him over to her own mind, and he took the fruit from the hand of his wife and ate. When he had eaten, she went to Satan and said, ‘My husband has eaten the fruit.’ On hearing that he laughed exceedingly, and said, ‘Now you have listened to me; very good, my son and daughter.’”

“Is there any more?” inquired Io, as Maha paused.

“Agreat deal more, but Idid not learn to the end. Ican sing what Iremember.”

“The day after they had eaten, early in the morning God visited them; but they did not, as they had been wont to do, follow Him with praises. He approached them and said, ‘Why have you eaten of the fruit of the tree that Icommanded you not to eat?’ They did not dare to reply, and God cursed them. ‘Now you have not observed what Icommanded you,’ He said. ‘The fruit that is not good to eat Itold you not to eat; but you have not listened, and have eaten, therefore you shall become old, you shall be sick, you shall die.’”

“That is all that Iknow well,” said Maha; “but father told me how Satan taught the man and woman to worship demons and sacrifice pigs. Our first old father forbade his children and grandchildren to do such bad things.”

“How wonderful is this legend!” thought Io; “it describes the Fall far more naturally than our great Milton ever did. One could fancy that in exactly such words Eve told the sad story to her two little boys, Cain and Abel.” Then the lady said aloud, “Did your great old father tell you anything of the Flood?”

“Idon’t know much about that, only very little,” replied Maha. “There is one song something like this: ‘It thundered; tempests followed; it rained three days and three nights, and the waters covered all the mountains.’ Idid not like that story so well as that of the woman and man.”

Io asked a few more questions, but found Maha utterly ignorant of anything else contained in the Scriptures, except some dim tradition of men separating because they did not love each other. “Their language became different,” said the girl, resuming her chanting tone, “and they became enemies to each other and fought.”

Io kissed her little pupil, and sent her to play with a kitten. “It isI, not Maha, who have been the learner to-day,” thought the lady.