Recognizing how much Terry had to learn of the very essentials of religion, Mr. Sargent took abundant pains to make the matter clear to the Irish boy, whose warm heart readily responded to the argument from the infinite love of the Father, and he had his reward in finding his pupil laying hold upon the truth with a grasp that would not be readily shaken.
Each day the attachment between them deepened, until Mr. Sargent began to wish that he might keep Terry altogether; he discovered in him such possibilities of good.
But, sincerely grateful as he was, Terry's anxiety to get back to Halifax grew keener every day. He seemed so near now, and there were vessels sailing every day, on one of which he could without difficulty obtain a passage.
Of Captain Afleck no trace could be found. As a matter of fact, he, too, on reaching Boston had spent some time hunting for Terry; but being unsuccessful, concluded that Terry had gone on to Halifax, and accordingly gave up the search until he should hear from that place.
It had just been arranged that Terry should take the train for Halifax one afternoon, when, in the morning, walking along Tremont Street, he caught sight of a familiar face over the way, and darting across the street he cried delightedly,—
"Mr. Hobart! is it yourself?"
CHAPTER X.
REINSTATED.
The gentleman whom Terry had thus startlingly accosted looked with surprised inquiry for a moment upon the boy; then a bright smile of joyful recognition breaking over his face, he caught him by both shoulders, and shook him playfully, exclaiming,—