"I hadna prayed for years," said Ezekiel Pollard, "till thou went to the Front, but every night sin' I have asked God to take care o' thee. I have asked nowt for myself," he added almost proudly. "I didn't deserve it; but I've asked God to take care o' thee."
"So have I," said his mother. "I never towd anybody about it; I wur a bit ashamed, I reckon, but I have prayed twenty times a day."
"Then," said Tom, "let us kneel down and thank God for His goodness."
And the three knelt down together.
CHAPTER XI
It was nearly midday when Tom awoke. The church bells had ceased ringing for nearly an hour, indeed at nearly all the churches the congregations were being dismissed. The Town Hall clock chimed a quarter to twelve, but all else seemed strangely silent. Tom rose in his bed, and rubbed his eyes.
"Where am I?" he gasped; "this is—this is—ay, where am I? Why, I'm home! I'm home!"
Immediately he jumped out of bed, and pulling up the blinds looked out upon the smoky town.
"Dear old Brunford, dear old Brunford," he said; "ay, this is a change!"
"Art 'a' got up, Tom?"