“What be His frock all red for, then? Bright red, like blood. ’Tis like them figures in—in”—
Here Abel wandered again, and only muttered to himself. But when Jan crept near to him, and touching him said, “The figures in the window, Abel dear,” he opened his eyes and said,—
“So it be, Janny. With the sun shining through ’em. Thee knows.”
And then he wailed fretfully,—
“Why do He keep His back to me all along? I follows Him up and down, all over, till I be tired. Why don’t He turn His face?”
Jan was speechless from tears, but the old schoolmaster took Abel’s hot hand in his, and said, with infinite tenderness,—
“He will, my lad. He’ll turn His face to thee very soon. Wait for Him, Abel.”
“Do ’ee think so?” said Abel. And after a while he muttered, “You be the schoolmaster, and ought to know.”
And, seemingly satisfied, he dozed once more.
Master Swift hurried away. He had business in the village, and he wanted to catch the doctor, and ask his opinion of Abel’s case.