"I followed him to the city, ma'am, found he'd sailed the morning before, in company with one of his mates, the worst boy in town."
The last words were accompanied by a groan.
"Where was the vessel bound?" asked the lady.
"For the West Indies, ma'am. She's due next week; but I'm afeard that during the voyage my boy has learned nothing but wickedness in company with those rough, swearing sailors."
Mrs. Curtis thought this so probable that she could not think of a word to comfort the poor father's heart, and Bertie could only gaze sorrowfully in his face.
The man turned away, and made a step towards his oxen, but then came back and said abruptly:
"I never shall forget your boy, ma'am. His words led me to the Bible. Bad as wife and I have taken on since our only child ran away from us, we should have been a great deal worse but for the words of comfort we found in God's book."
"I am truly rejoiced to hear you say that," exclaimed Mrs. Curtis, warmly. "If you have learned to pray, you will find comfort in leaving your child in the hands of the almighty Friend whose eye has followed him in all his wanderings. Remember the heart of our Saviour yearns over the creatures for whom he has shed his blood."
"Thank you, ma'am," faltered the man, his eyes growing dim. "I wish wife could have heard you talk; but I shall tell her every word I can remember. I don't mind saying to you, that wife and I were never so nigh each other as since we began to pray. There used to be high words between us, I accusing her of humoring the boy; and she calling me a hard old tyrant. But each of us sees now that we were both in the wrong. If we'd taught him the Bible from the first, he would have stuck to it. There's the promise, 'Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.'"
At this moment Mr. Curtis was seen hurrying toward them; and Mr. Cahart with a "God bless your boy, ma'am," turned abruptly away.