"Well?" questioned Jack eagerly, his eyes shining with a brilliant light, his usually pale cheeks flushed.
"Well, sir, I found Him, and I've tried to live an honest life ever since. I'd learnt to be a blacksmith, and as there wasn't one in Naraton, I came and started business here, and I've done well."
"How mother would like to hear your story!" Jack exclaimed. "Would you mind if I told her?"
"Not at all, sir. It always seems very wonderful to me, because good came out of evil. If father hadn't been sent to prison he might never have found the Lord Jesus. I've told the tale to many, and mayhaps it's been a lesson to some."
There was a short silence, which Theodore broke by asking:
"Didn't you say your brother lived in a caravan?"
"Yes, sir. He's a married man with a troop of youngsters. Sometimes in the summer they find their way here, and glad enough I am to see them. Farmer Fry allows them to encamp in one of his fields, and they can have as much milk as they like from the farm, and Mrs. Fry knows her poultry's safe though there are gipsies upon the estate."
"It must be fun living in a caravan," Theodore said with enthusiasm. "I think I should like to be a gipsy."
Seth Stanley shook his head, laughing at the idea.
"Or I should like to be a great traveller, or an explorer," Theodore proceeded, "and have wonderful adventures."