"Oh, Father William, could you but have lived to see this day!" thought Jack. "But you gained your martyr's crown in good time."
Jack had no difficulty in finding out his father, who, with his family, was seated very near the reader. Master Lucas had grown old within ten years, but still looked hale and hearty.
His wife, bright and cheerful as ever, sat by his side, and next her was a very old man in the dress of a priest, who sat leaning his two hands on the head of his staff, and listening evidently with the closest attention. Jack looked at the group, and the tears rose to his eyes as he thought of one who should have been with them. He waited till the reader ceased and the congregation rose to depart, and then drew near his father, who was helping the old man to his feet.
"Let me give you a helping hand," said he, as if speaking to a stranger. "The venerable father seems infirm."
"He can walk very well when he gets to his feet," said Master Lucas. "He is very old, but nothing will keep him from the Bible readings in the church."
"Yes, yes, I am an old man—I am almost ninety years old," said the father, in a feeble but cheery voice. "I am an old man, but I am very well—and everybody is good to me."
"That is the burden of his daily song," said Master Lucas. "Truly, it is a privilege to be allowed to tend him in his age, and I love him like a father."
"It is much to say," returned Jack in an unsteady voice. "I have ever found a father's love the warmest and truest in the world!"
Something in the tone caused Master Lucas to look round suddenly. At the same moment his wife exclaimed—
"Surely, surely—this is our Jack come home. Master Lucas, do you not know your own son?"