"Now is the time," he said; "now while yer moral j'ints is limber. What's the use of climbin' the mountain on your hands and knees when you can go up in a chariot of fire, if you can only git in it?" and he talked and urged so earnestly that Haldane smiled and said:
"Mr. Growther, you have mistaken your vocation. You ought to have been a missionary to the heathen."
"That would be sendin' a thief to ketch a thief. But you know I've a grudge agin the devil, if I do belong to him; and if I could help git you out of his clutches it would do me a sight o' good."
"If I ever do get out I shall indeed have to thank you."
"I don't want no thanks, and don't desarve any. You're only giving me a chance to hit the adversary 'twixt the eyes," and the old man added his characteristic "A-a-h!" in an emphatic and vengeful manner, as if he would like to hit very hard.
Human nature was on the side of Mr. Growther's view of conversion. Nothing is more common than the delusive hope that health, shattered by years of wilful wrong, can be regained by the use of some highly extolled drug, or by a few deep draughts from some far-famed spring.
Haldane retired to rest fully bent upon securing this vague and mighty change as speedily as possible.
CHAPTER XXXVII
HOPING FOR A MIRACLE
Mr. Ivison, Haldane's employer, was a worshipper at St. Paul's, and, like many others, had been deeply impressed by the sermon. Its influence had not wholly exhaled by Monday, and, as this gentleman was eminently practical, he felt that he ought to do something, as well as experience a little emotion. Thus he was led to address the following note to Haldane: