Vanity Fair still had plenty of flags. The sweet seller tapped his sweets noisily. The mirror seller called everyone to admire themselves. But in one small lane, several households had refused to work for Lord Hate-good any longer. They had opened an old house to welcome travelers.
Hopeful was there too. He had delivered his letter to his uncle. On hearing that Chris’s family would come this way, he had left word at the lodging. Chris smiled and ran to him. Halfway there, he slowed.
Both boys had seen the raised platform in the distance.
Christiana recognized the look on her son’s face. Some places did not become easy simply because you visited them a second time. She asked Great-heart to take her daughter to the lodging. She and her husband went with the boys into the lane.
The old woman who sold bread opened her door. Seeing Chris, she reached to touch his hair, and her eyes reddened. “You brought your family out,” she said.
Chris nodded. After a while, he asked whether he could sit with her.
There was an empty chair. His mother did not know whether Faithful had once sat in it. She almost asked, but kept quiet. The woman brought soup. Looking at its surface, Chris said that Faithful had kept an extra portion of bread for others that day.
“I came too late,” Christiana said softly.
The old woman set down the ladle. “You did not kill him here. The people who did that evil must answer for it.”
Christiana looked at her. She realized she was once again tying every terrible thing to her own old sins. She had indeed refused to listen to her child. But repenting did not mean finding someone else to blame for the fair’s wickedness.
That evening, travelers read together that the Lord Jesus had risen and that death could not separate his people from his love. Great-heart did not say there was no need to grieve for Faithful. He said Faithful’s hope had not ended with the judgment at the platform. The wickedness of human judges did not have the final word. The risen Lord did.
For the first time, Christiana heard her son tell the whole story of that day. He described the lie he had not told, and how he had kept waiting after the door shut. She did not interrupt or hurry to say it was all over. She rested her hand on the table and held his when he was ready.
Next morning they helped the old woman move her flour and took clean blankets to the lodging. The fair still shouted. The fire still burned in the little lane. Before they left, Hopeful decided to travel with them again for a while.