"But he must come in!" exclaimed Mr. Shafto, eagerly. "Mary, my love, do you go and make him come in. Perhaps he would give me the slip if I went, and I could never catch him if he took to running. We must have him in."
Mrs. Shafto had not waited to hear all he said, but was already at the shop door, with her hand on Sandy's arm, urging him to come inside, and not listening to any objection from the boy. Not that he wished to make any objection, for he had been longing to have a look at John Shafto and a word with him all day. He followed her with timid steps and hanging head into the kitchen, where Mr. Shafto was sitting.
"Come up to the fire, my boy," said Mr. Shafto, cordially; "there's plenty of room for us all. And, Mary, pour him out a cup of hot tea to warm him. He's welcome to it. Johnny, sit down to the table, and let us all be comfortable together."
Sandy hardly knew what to do; but at a quiet sign from Mrs. Shafto, he sat down on a stool near the fire, and took a large cupful of tea from her, without a word. All this was quite different from what he had expected when he had stolen across the grave-yard, and scratched against the window, and whined like a dog, in the hope that John Shafto would come out; ready, if Mr. Shafto appeared, to hide behind one of the tall head-stones. It was so different, too, from hanging about the bakers' shop windows till they were closed, and then going to sleep in a cask. So different! He wished it could only last.
"Sandy," said Mr. Shafto, when tea was over, "I've been searching for you all day to tell you that it is all true what my Mary and Johnny believe. It is true that God sees and hears all, and that He loves you as much as He loves the Queen upon her throne. It is true that the Lord Jesus Christ is seeking to save you, and your mother, and little Gip, as much as if you were as rich and learned as anybody in London. He's been seeking me many and many a long year, but I've been keeping back from Him; I did not want Him to find me out in my selfishness and idleness. But He has found me to-day, and shown me what I am; and I believe He sent you here to help me to find myself out. It is not much that we can do for you, at any rate, till I can get some work; but what we have, we will give to you; and please God, Sandy, we'll help you to find both Christ and little Gip."
Mrs. Shafto was wiping away her tears quietly; and John pressed close to his father's side, and slipped his thin hand into his. It was one of the happiest evenings they had ever known, whilst they discussed ways and means of how Sandy could be clothed, and taught, and put into some way of getting his living, less uncertain than selling fusees.
"Mary, my love," said Mr. Shafto, as bed-time drew near, "would it do for Sandy's mattress to go into Johnny's room, beside his bed? For we are not going to let him live in the streets again. I'll come upstairs with you, and see what can be done."
That night Sandy slept in a corner between John's bed and the wall, where the low roof slanted over him. If John lay awake in the night, he would never again feel lonely; and if Sandy roused up out of his sound slumbers, he would know that John was close beside him. Both the boys were filled with delight at this arrangement; but it was John who, during the sleepless and painful hours of the night, thanked God again and again for having given him Sandy for a companion and friend.
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