John disappeared; but he was not away long, and he returned to Sandy to urge him to go in. Mr. Shafto looked at him through the corners of his eyes, and muttered some words. But the other two made up for his grudging reception, and Sandy was not in a mood to take offence readily. It was too good fortune for him to sit in the clean cosy room, with John Shafto to talk to him, that he should throw it away for a trifle. He kept as far back as he could, and did not lift his voice above a whisper; but he felt happier than he had ever done in his life, except at a few rare times with little Gip.
———◆———
[CHAPTER X.]
IS IT TRUE?
SANDY was off again by daybreak, before Mrs. Shafto could get down. But he had promised John the night before to return every evening until Gip was found. He had done his utmost to describe her to him, though he had not been very successful; except in giving him to understand that she had black eyes and black hair, curling all over her head. But the vague idea he had gained of another Person, who knew Gip as well as he did, and who was looking for her, had lifted the heaviest part of the burden from him. He had listened eagerly to all John Shafto and his mother had been able to tell him about the Lord Jesus Christ, who had lived a sorrowful life, and died a painful death for the sake of a lost world; and though there was very much that he could not understand, he began to feel that he was not left alone. The true and tender Friend, whom John Shafto knew to be always near to him, would surely take a little notice of the poor boy John Shafto was befriending!
It was rather earlier than it had been the night before when Sandy turned out of the street into the quiet grave-yard that evening. It was quite light enough for him to see at the first glance the tall lanky figure of Mr. Shafto, loitering along the smooth path of gravestones, in slipshod shoes trodden down at the heels. He called to Sandy, and pointed out to him an old smoke-stained tablet fixed against the wall of the chapel.
"Can you read, boy?" he enquired.
"No, sir, never a word," replied Sandy, putting his head on one side, and staring at the blackened stone, as if he could by staring make out the inscription upon it.
"That," said Mr. Shafto, "is my grandfather's tombstone, John Shafto, minister of this chapel. He was a very learned man; and large numbers of people flocked to hear him preach—rich people and grand people. He ought to have been rich himself; but he left nothing more to his children than yonder poor tumble-down hovel. He never thought that his great-grandson would make a friend of a boy out of the streets."
"I'm very sorry, sir," remarked Sandy, as Mr. Shafto paused in his speech. "I s'pose, sir, you took to buryin' folks because it were so handy bein' near the buryin' ground?"