‘We are all apt to think the same, but that is because we cannot see the end of the beginning. Perhaps, too, you have never prayed that Providence might extend its fostering care over you?’
‘You’re mistaken, sir. No man ever prayed more than I used to do. I was a reg’lar conwarted Christian at one time; and a morial example, but ’twarn’t no manner of use. No one never heard nor answered my prayers, and so I left off a saying ’em, and I don’t see as my troubles are a bit the wuss for it, neither. Everybody seems to get much of a muchness in this world, let ’em wear out their marrer bones or not.’
He re-applied himself to the patching of his sail, and the young man who had addressed him looked over the dark blue waters and sighed. He, too, had prayed for some weeks past that a certain blessing on which he had set his heart might be granted him, and his prayers had been returned upon his hands, as it were, unanswered. He was a very sad and disappointed man that evening, but his faith in Heaven was not one whit shaken by the trouble that had overtaken him. Even the clear, ringing laughter of Miss Herbert, as she sat on the poop and responded to the badinage and compliments of the group of gentlemen by which she was surrounded, although it made Egerton’s brave heart quiver with pain, had not the power to cause it to despair.
‘Williams,’ he said, after a pause, ‘you are altogether wrong. Prayer may not be answered at once, nor in the manner we anticipate, but it is always heard, and what that song says is true,—“Whatever is, is best.” It must be.’
But Williams still looked dubious.
‘It’s all very well for them, sir, as is rich and young, and got all their life before ’em, to think so. I dare say everything do seem best to them; but let ’em be sick and sorry and old, and obliged to work hard for their living, and I warrant they’d sing to a different sort of tune.’
‘Are you sick, Williams?’
‘Pretty middlin’, sir. I’ve done a deal of hard work in my time, and I has the rhoomatics that bad in my hands sometimes as makes every stitch I put a trouble to me.’
‘Are you sorry?’
‘Well, I’ve had my share of that lot, Mr Egerton; but as I’ve told you already, ’twas nothin’ to nobody what I suffered nor what I felt, and so I’ve larned to hold my tongue upon the matter.’