A small path at the foot of the mountains joined the right road. A traveler called Ignorance came along it, neatly dressed, without mud on his shoes. He said he never needed to go out of his way to the narrow gate. As long as he felt good inside, he was sure to reach the Celestial City.
Chris told him where the gate was. But Ignorance smiled and said he already understood such things. “After all that walking, you’re still just two children, aren’t you? I don’t need anyone to teach me.”
Hopeful felt annoyed and wanted to answer back. Chris touched his hand, remembering the three people asleep beside the road. After explaining the way, they still let Ignorance go ahead. He walked quickly and soon disappeared behind the trees.
At the lodging nearby lived an old man called Little-faith. Robbers had taken most of his money, and now hurried hoofbeats made his whole body tremble. He still had his scroll and a small bag of precious jewels, but he kept fearing that those would be taken too.
At first, Hopeful thought the old man ought to stop worrying so much. But Chris remembered coming out of the fair and being unable even to accept the water someone offered. He sat beside the old man for a while and secured a loose plank by the door so its repeated knocking would not frighten him. Only after his breathing slowly settled was the old man willing to eat.
The boys left the lodging and came to a wooden bridge. Several boards had softened in the rain and bent underfoot. Chris crouched to examine them and found that a beam underneath had cracked. As they searched along the bank for another way, Ignorance came out from behind the trees.
“Don’t go onto the bridge!” Chris called. “The wood underneath is cracked.”
Seeing who it was, Ignorance laughed first. “Are you trying to teach me again?” He stepped on the second board. It suddenly broke, and he fell into the water.
Hopeful hurried toward the bridge, but Chris held him back. They did not know whether more boards would break, so they found a long branch on the bank. The water carried Ignorance down to a low rock. Clinging to it, he shouted for help, no longer caring how clean his shoes were.
Chris lay on the bank and reached the branch toward him. Hopeful held Chris around the waist, and an adult from the lodging hurried over to help. Working together, they finally pulled Ignorance ashore.
Ignorance sat in the grass and coughed for a long time. He wanted to thank them, but could not get the words out. Chris brought him a dry cloth. He did not say, “I told you so.” He only asked whether he hurt anywhere else.
“I did hear you say the bridge was broken,” Ignorance finally whispered.
“Go inside and get warm first,” Chris answered.
The people from the lodging helped Ignorance away. He turned back to ask exactly where the narrow gate was. Chris carefully explained once more and drew the turning on a small piece of paper. Hopeful watched him and left unsaid the sharp reply he had been preparing earlier.
They placed barriers at both ends of the broken bridge and asked the lodging to arrange repairs. Only when they were leaving did Chris notice that his own arms were trembling. He sat for a few minutes, accepted the water Hopeful brought him, and then went on.
