Now the girls walked slowly, as the path grew narrow and the ground became rough and slippery, and they were forced to feel their way along and choose their steps carefully lest they should stumble over unseen obstacles. Here in darkness, weariness, cold, hunger, and thirst, with the wind in their faces and fearsome howling in their ears, they also began to grow somewhat confused, being unable to tell how long they had been walking or how far they had gone, as neither the light ahead nor the voices behind them seemed to come any nearer. Then after a while the light seemed to dim and at last faded from sight. Still, they went on until they supposed it should be night again, then sat down to rest by the side of the road.

For some time they sat in silence, as their strength was now nearly spent and they could no longer see any hope or encouragement ahead. But after a while they heard new voices, which seemed to belong to fellow pilgrims, walking some distance away.

"Hello," Christian called as they came near. "Who is there, and where are you going?"

"Hello," came the reply. "We are pilgrims on our way to the Celestial City."

"As are we," said Christian, "and glad to make your acquaintance. But are you not a little off the path? For it is here before us."

"No indeed," said the other, "we are on the right path, as anyone can plainly see. It must be you who are off it."

This caused Christian and Faithful no little confusion, and they sat wondering for a moment before Faithful said, "We can see nothing, but we did think we were on the right path."

"We cannot help that," came the answer, "but we have been on this path since we left home, and know it to be the true one. Now if you wish to reach the city, you must follow us."

And so they started off again, calling for the girls to come along. Now Faithful whispered to her companion, "What do you think? Should we go with them?"

"Wait a moment," said Christian. "If they speak the truth, we would do well to heed their advice. Yet I hope by now we have learned that we cannot trust all we meet."

"Indeed," said Faithful. "We do not even know their names, or where they came from, much less any reason why we ought to take them as our guides. If they are not utter deceivers, yet they may be the blind leading the blind."

So they remained where they were, and presently found themselves alone once more. Still they sat wondering and sighing for some time before Christian spoke again.

"I wonder," she began, "if we might indeed have gone out of the way. Not that I am convinced they were right after all," she added quickly, "but I do wonder all the same. For though I thought we had been going perfectly straight, this seems just the sort of place where one might easily get turned around. I have heard there are a number of paths here which seem to run alongside the right one, which turn aside so slowly that we might hardly notice if we were not watching carefully. Perhaps in our confusion we might have stepped onto one of them."

"It hardly seems possible," Faithful began, then sighed and shook her head. "But doubtless the same has been said by many who have gone astray, whose confidence in their own wisdom has led to their ruin."

"And now," Christian continued, "who can tell if all these trials, which we supposed to be confirmation that we were on the right path, were no more than the consequences of our turning aside, and warnings to return?"

"But even if this is the case," answered Faithful, "how can we return? For if we cannot tell where we went wrong, we cannot now hope to find our way back on our own, without some guidance or direction."

"Then I suppose we had better ask for it," said Christian, and with that, she began to pray, first giving thanks for the grace they had been shown thus far, then asking pardon for any sins they may have committed in ignorance, and finally asking for wisdom to guide them until they should at last arrive at their destination. To all this, Faithful gave full assent before adding a few words of her own, praying that the enemies who still pursued them might either be changed into friends, or that they might be so thoroughly confused as to no longer be any threat to them.

"I cannot regret giving Want our book," Christian said once she had concluded, "knowing that she certainly needs it more than we do, and yet I wish we still had it all the same, and some light to read by."

"As do I," answered Faithful. "Yet I think we may rightly say, Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee."

"True. And, Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light into my path," Christian said, then gasped, for the words had scarcely left her mouth when the path before them lit up.

Now they saw the truth of the proverb, the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day, as the light ahead appeared once more, even brighter than before, so that Faithful now saw it as well, and on the far horizon, they saw the clouds break and the distant hills outlined by a brilliant display which put the greatest fireworks Vanity had to offer to shame. So encouraged were they by this sight that they forgot, for a moment, their weariness and hunger, and getting up at once, they ran down the path, soon making more progress than they had since they left the town.

Yet even as they ran, giving thanks for the light, the road grew more difficult, so that before long they were forced to slow their pace once more, while the voices seemed to draw nearer until it sounded as if they were almost upon them. Then they saw running beside their path a fence which they might easily get over by some steps that had been set up there, and beyond it softer ground and trees which might shelter them from the wind and hide them from their enemies. But as they thought on this, they saw by the steps a small sign which read:

Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the Celestial Country, and seeks to destroy His holy pilgrims.

Beneath it was posted an addition which read, The highway of the upright is to depart from evil: he that keepeth his way preserveth his soul.

Further ahead, they saw a number of other signs, some larger, some smaller, some carved in wood, a few chiseled in stone, and many little more than hastily scrawled notes. Yet for all their differences, their message was the same, as all agreed with or expounded upon the first point, warning pilgrims to learn from the misfortunes of those who had ignored good counsel and barely escaped with their lives, and take heed to their ways, lest they too should be caught by the giant. One read, The way of a fool is right in his own eyes: but he that hearkeneth unto counsel is wise, while another said, There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death, and still another said only Escape for thy life; look not behind thee.

Now the girls also heard a voice behind them calling, "This is the way, walk ye in it."

"Well," said Christian, "I suppose if there was ever any question about it, we could hardly wish for a clearer answer than that."

"Indeed," said Faithful, "if we had not already determined to stay on this path, I would think that would have certainly settled the matter."

Thus they went on, but they had not gone far when their pursuers at last came upon them, with Envy, Malice, and Strife in the lead, Ignorance and Prejudice following close behind, and a number of merchants and tradesmen and others from the town, all running to evil, and making haste to shed innocent blood, with thoughts of iniquity and wasting and destruction in their paths, speaking oppression and revolt, conceiving and uttering from the heart words of falsehood against the pilgrims and all they represented. There was a breathless moment when it seemed that the girls should certainly be seized by the mob, but after another moment they saw that they did not come onto the path, or even seem to notice it at all, but went along on the left and the right, groping and stumbling about as if blind, and rather venting their fury to anyone who would hear than directing their words to any particular object.

Amid the noise, the girls heard another voice whispering in their ears, "The way of peace they know not; and there is no judgment in their goings: they have made them crooked paths: whosoever goeth therein shall not know peace."

The voice seemed to belong to a woman, but when Christian and Faithful looked about, they could see no one with them. Still they perceived that though he that departeth from evil maketh himself a prey, they should be safe enough at present, and thus went quickly and quietly on their way, hoping the crowd would soon tire of their pursuit and return home.

After a while, the voice came again, now some distance ahead of them, calling, "How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity? and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge? Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my spirit unto you, I will make known my words unto you."

Her words were gentle, yet commanding, and rang out clearly above the wind. Yet only a few of those from Vanity seemed to hear her, and those who did grew all the more enraged. Even so, she continued:

"O ye simple, understand wisdom: and, ye fools, be ye of an understanding heart. Hear; for I will speak of excellent things; and the opening of my lips shall be right things. Receive my instruction, and not silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be compared to it."

Even as she spoke, there came a very distinguished and very irritable gentleman walking quickly toward them.

"Back!" he called. "Go back, all of you, if you value your lives. Back home, back to safety and comfort, for I have been down this road, and I can tell you there's none to be found in that direction."

This the people seemed to hear, for they at once stopped in their tracks, and many seemed ready to turn back with delay.

The man continued, "And now a great storm is coming. Go back while you still can."

As if in confirmation of his words, it now began to snow, large white flakes which would have looked very nice if not for the wind. At this, a number of people turned and ran with all speed back to Vanity, while others turned aside to seek shelter beneath the trees, and became entangled in the branches, or went on blindly until they were lost, or walked straight into the path of the Giant Despair as he was strolling about the borders of his property.

Still the voice called, "Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors. For whoso findeth me findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the LORD. But he that sinneth against me wrongeth his own soul: all they that hate me love death."

As she spoke this last word, the rest of the pursuers scattered, as though they judged whatever lay ahead to be worse than death. Now Christian and Faithful found themselves alone and nearly blinded by the snow so that they could hardly see more than a few steps ahead, yet they encouraged one another that they should soon come to shelter and rest, and as they went on a little further, the wind settled some, and they presently saw a house which had candles burning in all its windows.

Coming at last to the door, they knocked and were at once greeted by a familiar face.

"Come in, come in," exclaimed Prudence, pulling them inside and brushing the snow from their clothes before giving them both a warm embrace. "You look half frozen."

Now by this time, the girls were so thoroughly exhausted that they could hardly say a word without yawning, but Prudence only smiled as she ushered them into what appeared to be a large library where a pair of couches sat before a blazing fire. Then wrapping them in thick blankets and pressing a mug of hot soup into their hands, she bid them sit down and soak their feet while she called the lady of the house. How long she was gone they could not say, for they just managed to finish their soup before they fell sound asleep and knew no more until the morning.