Paul looked relieved.
"The child could swim? That was fortunate."
"Law bless you, no, sir. Swim? He went down like a stone in the middle of the stream."
"I understood you to say he crossed the river," Paul explained, nonplussed.
"The Jordan, sir," Mrs. Boutcher returned in a hushed voice, somewhat shocked at the practical way in which her guest interpreted her words—it was not clear to her whether in ignorance or wanton inadvertency—"the River as we must all cross some day, to reach the Golden Shore."
Paul nodded comprehendingly.
"Poor little fellow," he murmured.
"You should hear our minister speak, sir," Mrs. Boutcher went on. '"E just draws the tears to your eyes. But you don't attend our chapel?"
"No," Paul admitted, "but Miss Le Mesurier often takes me to church. We have a clever preacher there."
Hazel, catching her name, looked up. "Yes, Mrs. Boutcher," she said, "it is so nice. I used to go very seldom: the boys were often lazy or careless, and sometimes really tired after their week's work. Mother, of course, could not go so far."