“What nonsense you are talking! If he had hated you, would he have asked Dr. Mills to let you stay here? You have him to thank for not being expelled.”
Archag was dumb with astonishment; the iron vise which had gripped his heart for the last three weeks, was relaxing its hold; he was finding once more a little of that sympathy in which he had no longer dared to believe. With a lighter heart he took leave of the doctor’s wife, and went back to the college whistling.
“You are entirely changed,” said Garabed on his return; “what has come over you?”
“I’m happy to-day.” And he told his friend about the conversation with Mrs. Spencer.
“You see,” replied Garabed, “the best people have kept their friendship for you.”
Professor Pagratian also took a great interest in Archag, and often invited him to his house with Garabed. What happy evenings those were for our two friends! Mrs. Pagratian and her two daughters would mend a great pile of linen, while the professor smoked his narguileh, and talked about his youthful days of poverty and hardship. He did not remember his father; the eldest of six children, he had been obliged to go to work while still very young, in order to help his mother. At the age of eighteen he was a journeyman weaver, earning a mejidié (ninety cents) a week. An American missionary whom he met occasionally, gave him a copy of the New Testament, and he used to read it privately with a companion of his named Krikorian. The Epistles of Saint Paul made a deep impression upon these young men, and then Dr. Trowbridge became interested in the two friends, and used to pray with them and explain the Holy Scriptures.
“When he talked to us,” said the professor, “it was as if scales fell from our eyes; we felt a horror of our sins, and a thirst for truth and righteousness.... One Christmas evening when Krikorian and I had been praying with more than ordinary fervor, we seemed to hear Jesus Christ calling us. Our hearts leaped for joy; that was the most beautiful day of our life, and we always think of it with tears of gratitude. Dr. Trowbridge was at that time engaged in laying the foundations of the college, and he proposed that we should fit ourselves to become teachers in his school. I needn’t tell you how glad we were to act on his suggestion. We spent four years in America, and then we returned to work with our benefactor. Alas! God called him suddenly to Himself. Such men are rare indeed, and his death was a very great loss to Aintab.”
These talks made a deep impression on Archag. He had always supposed that it would be time enough to think about religion when he was grown up. But his teacher had been less than twenty years old when the Spirit of Christ took possession of his whole being, soul and body; and how happy he seemed!
Sometimes Mrs. Pagratian (whose mother was German), and her daughters, would sing old songs in the dialect of Swabia, or perhaps Monsieur Bernier would join the little group, and talk about Switzerland, a country well-known to the Pagratians, for the professor had studied for two years at Basle, and preferred the Swiss country to America.
“In Switzerland,” he would say, “the people enjoy life; in America they do business.”