True it was, perhaps, that Heckewelder’s earnest prayer on behalf of the converted Indians had sunk deeply into George’s heart and thus kept it from breaking.  No stronger plea could have been made than the allusion to those gentle, dependent Christians.  No one but a missionary could realize the sweetness, the simplicity, the faith, the eager hope for a good, true life which had been implanted in the hearts of these Indians.  To bear it in mind, to think of what he, as a missionary and teacher, was to them, relieved him of half his burden, and for strength to bear the remainder he went to God.  For all worry there is a sovereign cure, for all suffering there is a healing balm; it is religious faith.  Happiness had suddenly flashed with a meteor-like radiance into Young’s life only to be snuffed out like a candle in a windy gloom, but his work, his duty remained.  So in his trial he learned the necessity of resignation.  He chaffed no more at the mysterious, seemingly brutal methods of nature; he questioned no more.  He wondered no more at the apparent indifference of Providence.  He had one hope, which was to be true to his faith, and teach it to the end.

Nell mastered her grief by an astonishing reserve of strength.  Undoubtedly it was that marvelously merciful power which enables a person, for the love of others, to bear up under a cross, or even to fight death himself.  As Young had his bright-eyed Indian boys and girls, who had learned Christianity from him, and whose future depended on him, so Nell had her aged and weakening uncle to care for and cherish.

Jim’s attentions to her before the deep affliction had not been slight, but now they were so marked as to be unmistakable.  In some way Jim seemed changed since he had returned from the Delaware encampment.  Although he went back to the work with his old aggressiveness, he was not nearly so successful as he had been before.  Whether or not this was his fault, he took his failure deeply to heart.  There was that in his tenderness which caused Nell to regard him, in one sense, as she did her uncle.  Jim, too, leaned upon her, and she accepted his devotion where once she had repelled it.  She had unconsciously betrayed a great deal when she had turned so tenderly to him in the first moments after her recognition, and he remembered it.  He did not speak of love to her; he let a thousand little acts of kindness, a constant thoughtfulness of her plead his cause.

The days succeeding Heckewelder’s departure were remarkable for several reasons.  Although the weather was enticing, the number of visiting Indians gradually decreased.  Not a runner from any tribe came into the village, and finally the day dawned when not a single Indian from the outlying towns was present to hear the preaching.

Jim spoke, as usual.  After several days had passed and none but converted Indians made up the congregation, the young man began to be uneasy in mind.

Young and Edwards were unable to account for the unusual absence from worship, yet they did not see in it anything to cause especial concern.  Often there had been days without visitation to the Village of Peace.