Here is something more about him in a letter from the lady farther on in the book:—
"In the old man we have exceeding great joy; he reads each morning the Scriptures with his family, expounds and prays."
"That story of Nahum, the converted Jew, seems as if it were just written for me," cried Martin, laying down the volume on the table. "Here am I, an Englishman, in a Christian land, half-afraid to say to my neighbours, 'I will close my shop on Sundays, because I will honour the law of God,' lest they should, perchance, laugh at me for being 'a Saint.' There was Nahum, openly confessing his faith at the risk of losing both property and life! Here am I, grieved and discouraged by a few hasty words from poor Ann; there was Nahum standing firm against the persuasions, the anger, the despair, of his wife, though he dearly loved her! A poor kind of Christian must I be! I fear but a coward at heart, and ill-fitted to bear the burden and heat of the day. God help me, and give me more grace and more courage, and then, perhaps, He will one day give to me, as to faithful Nahum, more cause to rejoice over a converted and loving wife!"
[CHAPTER V.]
Darkness and Night.
THE day wore away, twilight came on, Annie grew tired of her play, her eyelids were heavy, she almost dropped asleep in her father's arms, as he carried her gently upstairs, and put her to bed.
Martin was vexed, but not alarmed at the prolonged absence of his wife; he knew that Ann would be unwilling to quit a party of pleasure early, and he was thankful that his little nestling was peacefully asleep in her cot, instead of being kept awake to a late hour in the midst of bustle and noise.
It was not till twilight had given place to night, and storm and rain had come on, that Martin became uneasy and restless. Many times he went to the outer door, and looked anxiously up the street, where the gas-lamps were throwing their yellow light on the brown, wet, glistening pavement. Few passed the shop on that rough night, save the policeman on his beat; even the public-house on the opposite side of the way looked empty and dark.
At last there was the rattle of a cab over the paved road. Martin did not expect his wife to come in such a conveyance and was surprised when the horse was suddenly pulled up, as the voice of Mrs. Batten called out from the window:
"Here! This is the place, the tobacconist's shop."