The Captive Bride Read Online Free PDF

balances as the large man gave him a direct stare.
    â€œJohn, this is Matthew Winslow, Edward’s nephew. Edward, this is Mr. John Bunyan—one of our more promising lights among the ministry.”
    â€œWhy, I’ll deny that, Mr. Winslow!” Bunyan said looking at Edward, a smile touching his full wide lips beneath a reddish moustache. “I’m just a tinker with a longing to speak of Christ.” Bunyan had one of those clear tenor voices that carry over long distances without losing any clarity, and there was some sort of magnetism in the man, Matthew saw—a quality he had observed in Governor John Bradford of Plymouth. It had nothing to do with attractiveness, for neither man was particularly well favored. Neither was it aquality of voice, for though both men spoke clearly, they did not thunder as some men felt compelled to do to exert their authority. Whatever it was, Matthew knew that both men had that indefinable quality of leadership; men would listen to them and be led by them.
    â€œJohn’s become quite a traveler since you left, Edward,” Gifford said. “He’s been preaching all over the country—and with very good response.”
    The praise bothered Bunyan and he shifted uncomfortably. “Well, if Charles comes back as king, we’ll none of us be doing much preaching, will we now?”
    â€œToo true, John,” Edward said heavily. “He’ll clamp down on our churches—especially men like Pastor Gifford here.”
    â€œPerhaps you could come to America, Pastor Gifford,” Matthew suggested. “And you, too, Mr. Bunyan.”
    â€œWe can’t all leave England!” Gifford snapped. His quick eyes flashed fire and he jerked his head in a series of quick motions as he added, “I was on the Royalist side in the war against the Crown—but this time it’ll be different.”
    â€œThere’ll be no new war, Gifford,” Edward said at once with a shake of his head. “The English want a king—demand one, in fact. And no matter what Charles promises—and I’ve heard that he’s promised no revenge against those who executed his father—there’s a host in France who fled the country one jump ahead of Cromwell. And it’s their turn now, mark my words!”
    There was a sense of gloom in the older men that galled Matthew, but he said nothing. He had come to England to find an escape from the boredom and monotony of Plymouth, and it appeared as if he was jumping into a very hot fire. Excitement and adventure were on the horizon, and these friends of his uncle spoke as if Doomsday had been announced!
    â€œWell, you must come with me on some of my preaching engagements, Mr. Winslow.” Bunyan interrupted Matthew’s thoughts with a nod and a wide smile. “You won’t hear muchin the way of a preacher, but you’ll see some very fine countryside and meet some choice saints.”
    â€œI will indeed, Mr. Bunyan,” Matthew answered.
    â€œCome, we must go,” Edward urged. “Good night, Mr. Bunyan.”
    As the three men walked away, Gifford stated, “He’s a rare one, John Bunyan. Born to preach!”
    â€œAye, I’m sure he is,” Edward agreed. “But he’d better stick to mending pots and pans if Charles comes back.”
    â€œJohn? He’ll not do that!” Pastor Gifford shook his head and indicated a house set off in a clump of towering yew trees. “There’s Asa Goodman’s house.” He was silent until they reached the steps, then added quietly, “No, Bunyan is just the sort of man that the Royalists will hunt down. He’s a man the people listen to. He’s got a gift of moving people—just what the King will be dead set against!”
    Winslow knocked on the door, and it was answered at once by a short man with weak eyes who peered at them suspiciously, then as he recognized them, cried out,