Margaret used to look very sad and often to weep, when she and Gerald returned from their visits to the works, for with the keen eye of affection she saw what he was suffering, though he said not a word. On the contrary, when in her presence, he put on as cheerful an aspect as possible. At such seasons Gerald always tried to comfort her, ‘Good mother,’ he said one day, ‘do not, I beg of you, give way so to grief, I am sure you will have father at home again before very long.’
‘How can that be child?’ she asked. ‘You see the Emperor does not let any of the men give up the work until they are carried off by death. No, there is no hope for my poor Michael; for he will die before this huge city is finished.’
‘Oh no, he will not die, mother,’ cried the boy, ‘I feel sure he will not die! You know you have yourself taught me that God takes care of good people, and I am sure father and you are good. You have taught me, too, that God hears our prayers if we pray to him with sincerity; and I have prayed very earnestly and very often that he would bring dear father back. Courage, good mother, do not weep; you will have him with you again, and that before long.’
We must now tell our young readers that Gerald had formed a determination to offer himself as a substitute in Michael’s place. He made this resolution very soon after the fisherman was taken from his family; but he well knew that would not be the time to put it into practice, as he was not then eleven years of age. He hoped however, in about two years’ time, to be suitable in appearance as well as strength, and otherwise fitted to undertake the task.
CHAPTER V.
THE PROPOSAL.
This one idea was so constantly in Gerald’s mind, that it could scarcely be said to be ever absent from his thoughts. He dwelt on it as he sat over his work by day; he dreamed of it at night; and he prayed constantly for the blessing of God upon it. Still he said not a word to any one, being afraid that should he do so, his plan might meet with opposition. He feared that Margaret would say he was too young to engage in such work.
When a little more than two years had elapsed, he began to think that he might make known his plan with some hope of success. He was by this time a fine tall lad of nearly thirteen. He thought the most suitable season for making such a proposal would be as he and Margaret were returning from one of their visits to the works. The state of health in which they found poor Michael, at the next visit, favoured the project. He was evidently much worn, and Margaret was almost broken-hearted when she parted from him, thinking it probable that she should never see him again alive.
As they walked home, the poor woman leaned on Gerald’s arm and wept bitterly. ‘Now,’ thought he, ‘is the time for me to name my plan;’ so, looking up tenderly in her face, he said, ‘I have something to say to you, dear mother, which I hope will make you dry up your tears. I have often tried to cheer you with the prospect of a happier time, but now I think it is nearly come.’
‘You mean,’ said Margaret sorrowfully, ‘that I and my poor Michael shall soon be together in a happier world.’
‘No, good mother, I don’t mean that,’ Gerald eagerly returned, ‘I hope you will meet together in Heaven at last; but not very soon. Oh no, I mean that you will ere long be happy together in our own home.’