But there comes another to my mind
which fits this situation--and a thousand others--'He who sits in the
heavens shall look down and decide.' To-night I was to have married these
young people. Three hours ago I never dreamed of doubting that I should
be on hand at the appointed hour. But I shall not marry them. Fate has
enjoined a hand. The Supreme Arbiter says 'No,' and what may not be the
consequences'?"
"They will probably be married to-morrow," said one of the traveling men.
"There will be a few hours' delay--nothing more."
"Perhaps," replied Father Charles, as quietly as before. "And--perhaps
not. Who can say what this little incident may not mean in the lives of
that young man and that young woman--and, it may be, in my own? Three or
four hours lost in a storm--what may they not mean to more than one human
heart on this train? The Supreme Arbiter plays His hand, if you wish to
call it that, with reason and intent. To someone, somewhere, the most
insignificant occurrence may mean life or death. And
to-night--this--means something."
A sudden blast drove the night screeching over our heads, and the whining
of the pines was almost like human voices. Forsythe sucked a cigar that
had gone out.
"Long ago," said Father Charles, "I knew a young man and a young woman
who were to be married. The man went West to win a fortune. Thus fate
separated them, and in the lapse of a year such terrible misfortune came
to the girl's parents that she was forced into a marriage with wealth--a
barter of her white body for an old man's gold.
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