The man, after a moment's pause, reopened his Book and read on.
"You take it very comfortable," said Wat.
"I am not afraid. I can depend on this promise," said the man, pointing to his Book.
Wat shook his head.
"I can't take in that, worse luck, master. May be yourn's the same as this," said Wat, taking Sisky's Bible from his pocket, where he always kept it when his conscience was troubled, as if to pacify it with a sort of showing his good intentions.
The man looked attentively at the Bible, while Wat, in a few words, told him its history, and confessed his neglect, which he had never more truly lamented.
A sudden call from the mate made him leave the book in the man's hands, and it was not till after two or three hours of hard work that he returned with the joyful news that the danger was past.
"The Lord be praised!" said the man.
"Poor Sisky's mother used to talk about the Lord," said Wat. "She told me reading that Book would be better than bags of gold to me."
"So it will. Let me teach you," said the man.