“No,” replied I; “go I must, but still I do not like to part with him. He is the only friend that I ever had, that I can remember.”
“When you have lived longer, and mixed more with the world, my poor boy, you will then find how many sacrifices you will be obliged to make, much more serious than parting with an animal that you are attached to. I suppose you expect to be very happy if ever you get back to England?”
“Of course I do; why should I not be?” replied I; “I shall be always happy.”
The missionary’s wife shook her head. “I fear not. Indeed, I think if you live long enough, you will acknowledge that the happiest of your days were passed on this barren rock.”
“Jackson said otherwise,” replied I. “He was always grieving at being on the island, and not able to get back to England; and he told me so many stories about England, and what is done there and what a beautiful place it is, that I’m sure I shall like it better than being here, even if I had somebody with me.”
“Well, you are in the hands of God, and you must put your trust in him. He will do with you as he thinks best for you—that you know, as you read your Bible.”
“No, I didn’t know that,” replied I. “God lives beyond the stars, a long way off.”
“Is that all you have gained by reading your Bible?” inquired she, looking me in the face.
“No, not all,” replied I; “but I do not understand a great deal that I read; I want some one to tell me. I am so glad you came with the men in the boat, for I never saw a woman before. I used to see somebody in my dreams, and now I know it was a woman. It was my mother; but I have not seen her for a long while now, and I have nobody but Nero.”
“My poor boy, you have a father in heaven.”