“It is too wonderful and beautiful to be believed, but He has said it. If He were to come to-night, grandfather, I dare scarcely to hope that such an one as I should be counted worthy to be caught away to meet Him in the air; but if I might but look upon His glorified face it would be enough. He would know how much I love Him, and how I hate myself and my vile life. I should see Him—I should be able to look up to Him and say—‘My Lord and my God!’ I do not even ask more!”
Abner was silent for a moment, and then said in a voice that quivered with the intensity of his emotion—
“And, my lad, if the Lord delays His own coming, but calls to you to meet Him in another way, would you be afraid?”
Saul looked at him quickly, and read in a moment all that was in Abner’s soul.
“Do you mean that I shall die?” he asked.
There was silence for a moment, and then Abner spoke—
“It may not be to-night, but it must be soon. The doctor says you strained your heart so terrible hard that night, and there was something amiss with you before. I don’t rightly understand his words, but you’ve never been the same since that fever, and when you were knocked down by the horses they did you a mischief you’ve never got over. That night on the wreck was the last straw, as folks say. There’s something broke and hurt past mending. You won’t have no pain, but things can’t go on long. You’ll not be long before you see your Saviour, my lad; for I’m very sure we go to be with Him, even though we may not share His glory till the blessed day of the Resurrection.”
A strange awe fell upon Saul. His eyes looked straight at Abner with an expression the latter could hardly fathom. Was it fear? Was it joy? Was it triumph? He did not know, but Saul’s next words gave him the clue.
“It is goodness past belief—I can’t understand it!”
“What, my boy?”