The third person to whom a gospel was offered was a woman. She looked timidly round her, saw a Romish priest standing at the corner of the street, and hurried away.
"It is evident that Malta is not a place where the Scriptures are welcomed," thought Harold, sadly, as he replaced his rejected books in his vest. "Rome's constant opposition to the circulation of the Word of God amongst the poor is one of the clearest proofs that her doctrines will not bear its searching light."
Harold was near a shop, and remembering that he had lost his pen-knife, he went in to replace it by buying one which he chanced to see in the window. The trifling purchase was soon made; turning to quit the shop, Harold saw the seller of fruit by his side. The man furtively stretched out his hand, and Hartley, understanding the gesture, for nothing was said, placed in that hand the Gospel, which was received with a silent look of joy.
"One seed sown," thought Harold; "may the Lord give His blessing to it! I have heard that this island of Malta, now famed for its orange groves, was originally only bare rock, and that all its soil had to be conveyed in ships from the mainland. Such efforts were made to cultivate fruit, and such success attended the efforts. Shall the children of this world always be wiser than the children of light? Shall the energetic men of earth look on difficulties as 'things to be overcome,' whilst God's servants magnify them into impossibilities."
Harold's reflections were interrupted by Miss Petty's meeting him as he passed out of the shop. She looked flustered, excited, and eager.
"Oh! Dear Mr. Hartley, I'm so delighted to see you; you are the very person whom I wanted to meet!" she exclaimed. "Do just lend me twelve shillings at once, for I've spent my last sixpence already in lace. Malta, with its shops full of beautiful things, is the place to empty the purse of a Crœsus!"
"I am no Crœsus," said Harold; "and I have not so much as twelve shillings with me."
"Then lend me ten; I daresay that I can beat the jeweller down. I never in my life saw so perfect a brooch—a peacock in filagree silver."
"Excuse me, Miss Petty," said Harold smiling, "but would it not be well to resist even the temptation of buying a silver filagree peacock, rather than go into debt?"
"Oh! I want your money, not your preaching," cried Theresa. "There's Mr. Bolton coming, he does not keep such a tight grasp over his money; he'll lend the twelve shillings, I'm sure, and I'm just dying to get that brooch!"