The Sargents were very glad to hear of their protégé's good fortune, and although manifestly reluctant to bid him good-bye, they gave him their blessing with a warmth that showed how he had found the way into their hearts.
"Remember, my dear boy," were the old gentleman's parting words, "the truths I have sought to teach you in our brief sojourn together. Lay fast hold on eternal life; and although we may never meet again on earth, I shall look for you above."
Deeply affected by these solemn words, Terry with tear-filled eyes murmured, "I'll try my best, sir," as he turned to follow Mr. Hobart, who had gone on a little in advance.
That afternoon the two set forth for Halifax, and on the way thither Terry had time to tell his companion in full detail the wonderful experiences which had been his during the past two months. Mr. Hobart was intensely interested, as may be imagined, and would often exclaim,—
"Why, Terry, you'll be the hero of the place for nine days at least. If one of these newspaper men get hold of your story, they'll make a great to-do over it. I think I must tell the editor of the Herald to have you interviewed."
"Sure now and you're only joking, Mr. Hobart," was Terry's response to this banter, for it never entered his mind that any doing of his could be worth newspaper notice.
"Not a bit of it, Terry," Mr. Hobart insisted; "you'll see when we get to Halifax."
They reached their destination without mishap in due time, and as it was too late to go to the office that day they each went to their own homes, Terry promising to be at Drummond and Brown's bright and early the next morning.
It was not without some misgivings as to the kind of reception awaiting him that Terry made his way to Blind Alley. What would his mother say to him? And would his father strike him, as he had done more than once before when he had been away from home for a time?
He passed and repassed the entrance to the alley several times before he could make up his mind to enter its forbidding gloom. But at last, saying to himself, "Ah! what's the use of foolin' like this? Here goes," he pushed in with quickened pace until he was within ten yards of the tenement house, when his progress was suddenly arrested by a familiar voice falling upon his ear. It was saying, in tones of despairing grief,—