I tell them how Mercy's mother has been doing her best to talk us out of going to the Celestial City, and they're not to be bothered about my tears.
"Mrs Bats-Eyes is silly," Joseph says. "She can never see the sense in anything."
"I'm not taking any notice of her," I say. "But I'm glad Wisdom came here and spoke to me. If she hadn't, I don't think I'd be bothering to pack."
Samuel comes back for tea much sooner than usual to ask if he can help, eager for us to start our pilgrimage. Matthew, of course, is the last to return.
"I've washed and mended your clothes," I tell them, "but they're getting very shabby. You'll have to look after them carefully."
"Perhaps the King will send us some new ones," Samuel suggests.
"Perhaps he will," I say, but I don't think it's likely.
Very early in the morning we creep away from our cottage, and out through the gates of the city. The gatekeeper doesn't stop us. He probably thinks we're going to spend a long day in the meadows. Samuel and Matthew are carrying our belongings, and I have the food.
Joseph and James run on in front because they're anxious to get to the Wicket Gate.
"Maybe we'll meet a lion," Joseph calls back. "If we do, I won't be frightened."
"Nor will I," James adds, sounding fearless. "Pilgrims are always brave, and we must fight for Christiana."
I think it's more likely I'll be fighting for them -- with the help of Matthew and Samuel, of course. I hear a shout, and turn to see Mercy running across the meadow.
"Stop," she cries. "Please let me speak to you, Christiana."
Mercy sounds out of breath, but she catches hold of my hand. "Can I walk a little way with you?" she asks.
"If you want to, you can travel with us all the way to the Celestial City," I tell her.
Mercy shakes her head. "I'd like to, but I don't think the King will let me into his City. He hasn't sent me a message."
I'm not sure what she means, and all I can do is frown.
"You remember, Christiana, you showed me a letter from the King, and my mother laughed at you." Mercy looks unhappy.
"You don't need a letter," Samuel tells her. "Evangelist says the King wants everyone to become pilgrims."
But Mercy shakes her head. "I don't think the King will let me into his City -- if he hasn't invited me."
"I'll tell you what we'll do," I say, having a sudden idea. "Come with us as far as the Wicket Gate, and we'll ask if it's all right for you to pass through."
Mercy agrees to this, and my brothers seem glad to have her with us -- especially Matthew. We all go on together happily until we reach the edge of the Slough of Despond, a vast area of soggy marshland.
This is the place where I heard Pliable and Christian were nearly sucked under and drowned, which makes me more than a little worried -- not that I'm going to tell the others. I say, "I don't know how we can get across. It seems so dangerous."
"I think we should try," Mercy says. "Let's not give up so easily."
The soft mud oozes out between the tufts of grass as we move our feet, but as we look around we catch sight of some stepping-stones. Samuel, the bravest, goes first, slowly checking that each stone is firm. Joseph and James follow him, skipping lightly from stone to stone.
We soon find ourselves on the far side on firm ground, and I don't think there are any other unsafe places between us and the Wicket Gate -- as long as we make straight for the light.
"I want everyone to keep going, so let's walk quickly," I tell them. "Perhaps we can rest once we've gone through the Wicket Gate."
CHAPTER 49
The Wicket Gate
About the middle of the day the six of us reach a strong door set into a high wall. Over the door I see the words: Knock, and it will be opened to you. The bright light we saw in the distance shines out from these words that the King's Son has put there.
"You're the eldest," Matthew says to me, looking a little scared, "and the King's letter was for you, Christiana, so you'd better be the one to knock. Say who we are and why we've come."
I can understand why Matthew doesn't want to do the knocking himself, even though he seems to know exactly what to say. The Gate is huge and rather daunting. I lift a small hammer hanging by the side and knock, but no one answers. A dog starts to bark furiously somewhere behind us, and although I'm sure Joseph and James mean to be brave, they both turn pale, and whisper, "Can we go home?"
"There's nothing to be afraid of," Mercy says firmly, but I think she's as frightened as my two youngest brothers.
"Knock again," Samuel suggests, standing back with Matthew. "Louder this time."
So I lift the hammer and start knocking as hard as I can.
Suddenly a small door within the large one opens. This small door, I realise, is the Wicket Gate. Surely no one could open the large door, but this one is just big enough to let us through one at a time.
"My name is Goodwill," a pleasant man says. "Who are you?"
The dog hears his voice and leaves off barking.
"Please don't be annoyed with us," I say, trying to sound confident. "I kept knocking because I thought you couldn't hear us, and we were frightened of the dog."
Goodwill looks at us and smiles. "Where have you all come from, and what do you want me to do for you?"
"We've come from the City of Destruction where Christian used to live," I tell him, sounding a little braver now that I've seen Goodwill smile. "We want to be the King's pilgrims -- if you'll let us pass through your Gate. These are my brothers."
Goodwill leads us through the Wicket Gate. "I always let young people come to me," he said.
I've seen words like these written in the Book Christian was so fond of reading, and know the King's Son himself spoke them. Just for a moment I wonder if Goodwill is the King's Son. Certainly, our welcome could not have come from anyone kinder. I smile with relief as I enter the Way of the King, with my brothers following one by one. The Wicket Gate closes behind us.
Suddenly a trumpet sounds out from high on the wall. Goodwill says he has told a man to play a tune of welcome to five new pilgrims. Five? There should be six of us. I can see my four brothers, so where's Mercy?
"Don't forget me," I hear someone call from outside the Wicket Gate, as the trumpeter finishes his piece.
I turn quickly to Goodwill. "We have a friend with us," I tell him. "She wants to go to the Celestial City, but the King hasn't sent her a letter, so she's afraid ..."
I have no time to say anything more, for someone starts hammering frantically on the Wicket Gate, and then suddenly everything is silent..
"Is that her?" Goodwill asks.
It certainly sounded like her. "I think so," I say.
Goodwill throws the door open. "Are you all right?" he asks.
Mercy is lying on the ground. I think she's fainted with shock at the thought of being shut outside.
Goodwill stoops down and picks her up in his arms. "Don't be frightened," he says softly as Mercy opens her eyes. "Tell me why you've come."
Mercy looks pale. "I don't have a letter. I only came this far because my friend Christiana let me."
"Did Christiana invite you to go to the Celestial City with her?" Goodwill asks.
"Yes, and I'd like to go. Will the King be angry with me?"
Goodwill shakes his head. "My Gate is open to everyone who knocks on it. Didn't you see the promise written above the door?"
Mercy nods.
"And can you remember what it says?"
Mercy smiles up at him. "It says, 'Knock, and the door will be opened to you.' That's why I kept knocking."
"I put those words there specially for you," Goodwill tells her. "So of course you can come in."
He carries Mercy through the Wicket Gate to join us.
CHAPTER 50
Starting Out
Goodwill leads the way into a cool, quiet room where he says we can rest until he comes for us later.
As soon as we're alone, I turn to Mercy.
"I'm glad we're all here."
"I think I ought to be more glad than any of you," Mercy says quietly.
"No," I tell her, "I think we're all just as glad. When I knocked on the door and nobody answered, I thought we'd had our long walk for nothing -- especially when that dog started barking."
"The worst time for me was when you'd all gone in, and I was left behind," Mercy says, laughing a little now. Perhaps it's relief. "I didn't like to knock again, until I looked up and saw the words carved over the Gateway. Then I knocked as loudly as I could."
"Loudly?" I say. "I never heard such knocking in all my life. I thought you were going to break the door down!"
"Well," Mercy says, "I couldn't help it. The Wicket Gate was shut, and that fierce dog must have been somewhere near. You would have knocked loudly if you'd felt so frightened. And then I think I fainted."
"I wonder why Goodwill keeps that noisy dog," I say. "If I'd known about it, I'm not sure I would have dared come. But we're all safe now, and I'm pleased."
"So am I," Mercy says. "I think I'll ask Goodwill why he allows such a savage animal anywhere near his Gate."
"Yes," Joseph says, "ask him, Mercy. James is afraid it will bite us when we leave here."
I have to smile. It's probably Joseph who's afraid of the dog, although he won't admit it. But maybe I'm a bit frightened myself. Perhaps we all are.
James pulls me to one side. "I like Goodwill," he says. "Do you think he's the King's Son?"
I don't laugh, which is probably what he's expecting me to do. I've been wondering the same thing ever since we came through the Wicket Gate.
Goodwill returns, and I'm about to ask him who he really is, but Mercy interrupts and wants to know why he keeps the dog.
"It's not mine," he says. "There's a dark palace not far from here. The dog belongs to the evil prince. It lives at the palace, but it can run along his master's land until it comes close to my cottage. Then, as soon as it hears pilgrims approaching, it begins to bark. The evil prince has taught it to do this. Once or twice it has even broken through the fence and bitten a pilgrim before they could knock. But I always open the Wicket Gate as soon as I know someone really wants to come in."
I ask Goodwill about the Way of the King, and he's ready to answer all my questions. Afterwards he tells us to wash while he prepares a midday meal for us. At last we feel refreshed, and able to go on our journey.
As we stand in the road, Goodwill warns us that the boundary of the evil prince's garden runs along the Way of the King for the next few miles. He points to a high wall by the side of the road, and says it stops the savage dog seeing us. He assures us there's no way the dog can come near to hurt us now that we've passed through the Wicket Gate.
I see the branches of some trees hanging over the wall, making a pleasant shade from the sun. Some of the trees are full of ripe berries. As the branches are within easy reach, my brothers of course begin to pick the fruit.
"You shouldn't do that," I warn them. "It may be dangerous to eat. I've never seen fruit like it before, and that garden belongs to the evil prince."
My brothers already have their mouths full. "Delicious," Matthew says.
At least Joseph and James are wise enough to listen. They quickly spit their berries out and throw the rest away. I think Samuel has already eaten some, but he stops immediately.
"I'm as big as you," Matthew tells me scornfully. "And I know just as much as you do. This fruit is good."
So he goes on eating.
CHAPTER 51
Danger
We've not gone far from the Wicket Gate when we see two older boys coming toward us. They are taller than Matthew, and are probably sixteen or seventeen years old. As soon as I see them, I feel uneasy. "I don't like the look of them," I say to Mercy. "Come on, let's keep walking and take no notice."
Matthew and Samuel are lagging a little way behind, complaining that they don't feel well. I wish they'd listened to me when I told them not to eat the berries. Matthew, though, is the one who's really suffering. The two boys are laughing and talking together. They stand in the middle of the path to stop us. Joseph and James whisper to me that they feel frightened, and I have no idea what to do.
I recall a strange dream I had a few days ago, in which two boys just like these tried to stop me making my journey. I woke up feeling frightened, and I'm feeling frightened now. And this isn't a dream.
The smaller of the two boys stands threateningly, with his hands on his hips. "Where are you going?" he demands.
"We're pilgrims," I tell him. "And we don't have any money, if that's what you want."
The taller boy grabs hold of my arm, and his companion catches hold of Mercy. "We don't want your money," he says in an unpleasant voice. "And we're not going to hurt you. You are two extremely pretty girls, and we want you to stay and be friends with us."
"We can't," I say loudly. "We're going to the King, and we've no time to spare."
"Oh, that's all nonsense," the taller boy replies. "Anyway, we're going to make you stay."
I know that if Matthew and Samuel hadn't been eating the fruit from the evil prince's garden they would at least try to defend us. But now I can see that not only are they in pain, they're as scared as Joseph and James.
I realise we aren't able to get away from these two, and I call out for help. I remember how loudly Mercy called when she was outside the Wicket Gate, and I tell her to shout with me. I'd not realised until now what a loud voice she has.
We're not far from the Gate, and Goodwill hears us and sends a man to see what's happening. The man comes quickly, and as he gets near, he shouts to the boys, "What are you doing? How dare you obstruct the King's pilgrims?"
When the boys hear his voice they let us go free, and hurry to the wall. They climb it as fast as they can and drop into the evil prince's garden, which is where they probably came from. I feel so relieved to see them go that I keep thanking the man for coming to help us.
"You needn't thank me," he says, "but it's not a good idea for you to travel alone. I'm surprised you didn't ask Goodwill to send a guide with you. Your brothers aren't old enough to be of much use."
This makes Matthew and Samuel hang their heads in shame. Samuel seems to be recovering slightly, and I'm hoping he didn't eat too many berries. But I'm worried about Matthew.
"I thought I was going to be so brave," Matthew says, "but I'm really a coward."
"It's not your fault," I tell him. "We never thought about the danger. I wonder why Goodwill didn't send someone with us, if he knows it's not safe for us to be alone."
"The King doesn't allow Goodwill to send guides -- unless the pilgrims ask for them," the man explains.
I already have a feeling I've made a mistake in starting out on this journey. "Perhaps we'd better all turn back," I say, "and tell Goodwill we're sorry."
"No, you mustn't turn back," the man says quickly. "It's not far to the large house of a man called Interpreter. You can ask for a guide when you get there."
"This is dreadful," Mercy says when the man leaves us. "I thought once we'd started, we'd never have any trouble again."
I feel so wretched, standing in the road. "Oh, Mercy, we don't only have to take care of ourselves, I'm responsible for my brothers as well. I feel such a failure."
CHAPTER 52
The House of Interpreter
From now on we are going on our way much more carefully. Samuel is well again, Matthew says he's feeling better, and Joseph and James are keeping much closer to me than they did in the morning. Mercy says her feet are aching.
We see a large house in the distance, close to the road. "That must be the house of Interpreter," I tell the others brightly, hoping to make them feel better. "I'll ask if we can sleep there tonight."
"And we must ask for a guide," Mercy reminds me.
The windows are wide open, and as we come up the pathway to the house, we hear people talking. I fancy I catch the sound of my own name, so we stand to listen. I can h
ardly believe my ears. It seems that the people inside the house know we're coming, and are looking forward to seeing us.
They obviously don't know we're here already, so I knock on the door and a young woman comes to open it.
"Who do you wish to see?" she asks pleasantly.
My brothers and Mercy stand well back. I seem to be the one who has to do all the talking when we meet people. "We were told this house belongs to one of the King's servants," I say. "Do you think we could stay until tomorrow morning? My brothers are tired, and they're afraid to go on travelling in the dark." Well, I might as well put the blame on them. They've not been particularly brave so far.
The young woman nods understandingly. Perhaps she has younger brothers as well. "You must tell me your names, and I will ask my master whether there are rooms for you in the house."
"My name is Christiana. I think a friend of mine called Christian stayed here when he was a pilgrim. These are my four brothers, and this is our friend, Mercy."
The young woman goes quickly to a large room where we can see a man sitting at a table with some very young pilgrims who are probably his children. "Can you guess who is at the door already?" I hear her say. "It's Christiana, with her brothers and a friend."
The man pushes his chair back and hurries to the door to welcome us. "Come in, come in. My name is Interpreter. Are you really Christiana?" he asks. "Christian told us about you when he came here, and we heard you were on your way."
"Yes, I'm Christiana," I say, feeling embarrassed, and we all stay on the doorstep. I wish now that I'd started the journey with Christian, because it seems that all the good things he told me about in his Book are true.
"How pleased Christian will be when he meets you in the Celestial City," Interpreter says. "But we mustn't let you stand at the door. Come in and rest."
Interpreter tells us there are older pilgrims staying in the house, as well as his own family. He takes us into the large hall where everyone is sitting at a long table. They all seem pleased to see us, and two of the women stand up and give Mercy and me a kiss. They give Joseph and James a quick kiss too. The two boys are too polite to push the women away, but Joseph wipes his face hard afterwards. Matthew and Samuel must have guessed what was about to happen, and have gone to look out of the window.