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Now, why did you rush in and speak to me in that strange way? he asked.
Cause yer drove me near mad. You had no call ter say so dreadful a thing as that my Jesus Christ wornt there.
You believe in Him then? said Warden.
I believe in Jesus Christ our Lord, said Meg. Her excitement was spent. She spoke quietly, raising her big, black eyes to heaven. There was something in her manner which must have impressed even the most utterly careless and indifferent with its absolute sincerity.
Warden was silent, gazing at her curiously, even with admiration.
You must not only believe in Him, you must love Him very much, he said.
Ay, I love Him; Id die fur Him most willin, said Meg, clasping her hard hands very tight together.
But He hasnt treated you as He has me, said Warden. You dont know, you cant even understand, what has happened to me. I was always a most respectable man. I tried to do my duty. I had two children. This day week I had two children, a son and a daughter. Now I have none. They did not die, but they ran away. The boy went first, then the girl. I may never see em again.
May be you wornt a werry good father to em, said Meg. May be Jesus let em run away so as to show yer how to be a better father to em. There is some as beats their children, and some as neglecs em. I dunno wot is best. May be Jesus seen as you negleced yer little children.
Warden felt the lines tightening round his mouth at these words. It was broad daylight, it was true, and Meg was only a poor, ragged child, but her face was so solemn, and her big eyes shone with so intense a light, and she was so
absolutely fearless before him, that he felt impressed, even just a trifle afraid something as he would have felt had he been looking at an accusing angel.
You may have negleced yer little children, she repeated.
When she did so, Warden nodded his head.
It is true, he said. It is very true, God forgive me; but I never meant it. I fear I was a very hard man.
Then you jest tell Jesus that, said Meg, rising. You tell Him as you believes in Him, as you loves Him, as yer real sorry you spoke so dreffle bitter. It wor awful the way as you did speak; but wots so wonderful beautiful in Him is how He furgives. You tell Him as yer determined to neglec yer children never no more, and Im sure as Hell let yer have m back again.
Little girl, said Warden, tell me the truth as you profess to love God. Do you know anything, anything at all, of my little son, my little, lost son, Roy?
No, answered Meg. I wishes as I did, I dont know nothink; but I means to pray to Jesus, and Jesus ull help me to find him. I feel as hell be found, fur Jesus do love him so werry much.
Meg went away, and Warden, unlocking the door, saw her ragged figure disappearing down the stairs. He sighed when he saw the last of her. Then, relocking his door, he returned to his seat by the table. As he seated himself he remembered that he had neither asked her name nor where she lived. It would be impossible, then, for him if he wanted her again to find her.
He sat on perfectly motionless, recalling every word of the strange and passionate scene just enacted before him. At last his thoughts centred round one sentence, which began to burn into his heart like fire.
May be Jesus seen as you negleced yer little children.
He thought and thought, and more and more intolerable each moment became his feelings. At last he found that there was only one position in which he could bear them. He slid down from the chair to his knees. There he remained for some hours.
Chapter Thirteen
After this dose he lay in her arms for long hours in heavy slumber. It was a foggy day, and very little light came into the cellar; but what fitful rays did penetrate the gloom fell upon a very white and sunken little face. Yes; there was no doubt at last, no doubt at all, that Roy looked as bad as Davie had looked; nay, more, that he looked worse than Davie had ever looked, except Oh! good God! was Roy going to die too? Hannah felt herself trembling all over as this thought occurred to her. Was she a second time to lose her all; was a second time her one hearts treasure to be torn from her arms and from her love?
And I promised God as Id try hard to be good ef Hed leave me this yere young un as I found lost in the street, she said. In her sore despair she felt angry against God. What right had He not to take her at her word, and allow her to be good in her own way? It had never yet entered into her poor, untaught mind that in keeping little Roy she was keeping what was not her own. The other folks to whom God had first entrusted him had been careless of so great and precious a trust, so he had been sent to her. She regarded him as absolutely her own, and no idea of returning him to his people entered once into her head. Of course they might by great cleverness trace him until they found him, and then they would tear him from her arms; but never, until this happened, would she relinquish him. What! never! ah! she was not so sure of that. Some one else , even before his own people, might come to take little Roy away some one who