"Yes, that I will;" and the nurse immediately fetched her Bible, and for a long time, by the dim flickering candle, her voice rose softly upon the stillness of that chamber, as she read of mercy and forgiveness to the penitent and heart-broken sinner.
It may have been that the sound of her voice had a soothing effect upon Hubert's ear, for he sank calmly to sleep, and his rest was peaceful. When he awoke, however, with the morning light, his pulse beat high, owing probably to the excitement of the previous day, and the doctor was still unable to give hope of his recovery; and after another day, when the shadows of evening drew on, that good man took his seat once more by the sufferer's bed, and read again, in hopes to soothe the troubled spirit and lead the uneasy thoughts to better things.
"Why do you come here, and sit and tire yourself reading to me? You must already be weary with your day's work. Why do you come here?" And Hubert, with a steady eye, gazed into the doctor's face as he made the inquiry.
"Why do I come?" replied the doctor, as he gently took Hubert's hand; but he felt his throat swell at that moment, and while he hesitated Hubert repeated, "Yes, why do you come?"
"Because it is my duty, and because I have a deep affection for you. I am weary, but what matters that? You are more; so my necessity is not like yours. And another thing, I know you are unhappy."
"Who told you?"
"I have not needed to be told; I know it well enough. You know I know it, and for that cause I come to you, but the first thing I ask you, you refuse. You know not how great a comfort it would be to you to write home to your parents; there is much for you to do, but that is the first thing, for it is a holy duty."
"I have never done it, doctor, may God forgive me and I cannot do it now; it is too late, too late. You said right; I am not happy; the days and nights I have lain here have told me that all is too late now; the life I have led has been a wicked one, and if I die I am lost Oh, what shall I do?"
There was nothing stern in the doctor's heart; he had striven, and wept, and prayed earnestly that Hubert might see the error of his way, but now, at this confession and despair, he almost regretted that he had added to the sufferer's woes. There was no exulting over the poor sinner, but bending down close to Hubert's ear, he said—
"Fear not; pour out your heart's sorrow to God, for, deep as your sins are, He can and will save you, if, with a true, penitent, and broken heart, you confess all your sins to Him and throw yourself helpless on His mercy. You can do nothing for yourself; your own poor sorrowing heart is an offering Jesus Christ will accept if you will give it to Him. Don't hesitate, Christ is waiting to receive you; do, then, with godly sorrow, throw yourself upon His mercy."