"Thank you, b'y," he said. "And now before you leave me won't you read to me again?—I want to hear that fourteenth chapter of John and the thirteenth of First Corinthians. I fell asleep last night while you were reading, I was so tired. I'm sleepy now, very sleepy; but I'll keep awake this time while you read."
I got my testament from my camp bag and read both chapters through, noting as I read that the look of happiness and peace was returning to Hubbard's poor, wan face. When I had finished, he said quietly:
"Thank you, b'y, thank you very much. Isn't that comforting?—'Let not your heart be troubled.' It makes me feel good. I've faith that we'll all be saved. I'm not worried. McLean was caught just as we are. He sent a man for help and got out all right. God will send us help, too."
"Yes," said I, "and we shall soon be safe home."
"We'll soon be safe home" repeated Hubbard—"safe home. How happy that makes me feel!"
It was time for George and me to go. But I could not say good-bye just yet. I turned my back to Hubbard and faced the fire. The tears were welling up into my eyes, and I struggled for self-control. George sat silent, too, and his face was strangely drawn. For a full ten minutes we sat silently gazing into the fire. Finally George arose.
"Well, Wallace, we'd better start now."
"Yes," I said; "we'd better start."
I collected myself as best I could, and, turning to Hubbard, held out my hand.
"Good-bye, b'y; I'll be back soon." And then, as I looked into his poor, wistful eyes, I broke down and sobbed.