“Is he still master?” said Luke, thoughtfully, as the old days came vividly back.
“No, my boy, not for these two years; and he’s quite laid by. An old man before his time, Luke, and it is the drink that has done it. I don’t judge him hardly though, for we never know what another’s weakness has been, and it is not for us to sit in judgment upon our brother’s faults. Will you go and see him, Luke?”
“I will, father,” said the younger man, smiling and feeling refreshed, after his arduous daily toil and study of man’s greed, rapacity, and sin, with the simple, innocent kindness of his father’s heart.
“That does me good, my boy, indeed it does,” said the old man, pathetically; and he held his son’s hand against his true old breast. “I’m very sorry for a great deal that I have done, my boy, and I like to see you growing up free from many of the weaknesses and hard ways that have been mine. What I am obliged to leave undone, Luke, I want you to do, for my time is very short, and I often lie here and think that I should like to go before the Master feeling that I had tried to do my best, and taught you, my boy, according to such knowledge of good as in me lay.”
“My dear old father!” cried Luke, tenderly; and the hard, worldly crust that was gathering upon him seemed to melt away as he leaned over and carefully smoothed and turned the old man’s pillow with all the gentleness of a woman’s hand. “Why, what is it?” he said, as the old man uttered quite a sob, and the weak tears gathered in his eyes.
“Nothing, my boy, it is nothing,” he said. “It only made me think of thirty years ago, when I was ill, and your mother used to turn my pillow like that—just like that, my boy—and you are so much like her, Luke; and as I lie here, a worn-out, trembling old man, and you come down—you, my boy, who have grown so great, and who, they tell me, will some day be Queen’s Counsel, and perhaps Attorney-General, and then a Judge, such a great man as you’ve become, Luke—I lie here thinking that you can come down and tend to me like this, it makes me thank God that I have such a son.”
“Why, what have I done more than any other son would do? And as to becoming great, what nonsense!”
“But it isn’t nonsense, Luke, my boy,” quavered the old man. “I’ve heard all about it; and, Luke, when you are Queen’s Counsel, nay boy, give her good advice, for kings and queens have much to answer for, and I should like her—God bless her!—to have a very long and happy reign.”
“Indeed I will, father,” said Luke, laughing, “if ever it falls to my lot to be her adviser. But there, you are getting too much excited. Suppose you try and have a nap?”
“I will, my boy, I will, and you’ll go round town a bit, and walk up and see the parson. He’ll be strange and glad to see thee, and if you see Mrs Cyril, say a kind word to the poor soul; she’s been very good to me, my boy, and comes and sits and talks to me a deal. Don’t think about the past, my boy, but about the future. Let’s try and do all the kindness we can, Luke, while we are here. Life is very short, my boy—a very, very little span.”