"It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks," Jeremiah Jackson had said, and Tad had proved to his cost how true these words were. Just as some kinds of blindness can only be cured by the surgeon's knife, so there are some forms of blindness of the soul, for which the Great Physician has to use sharp remedies, ere it can see itself as it is, and turn repenting to Him Who alone giveth sight to the spiritually blind.
"I'm a bad lot, I am, Phil!" said the boy at length, after a long silence, during which he was taking stock of what he was worth, and finding how little it amounted to. "Yes, I'm a bad lot, Phil, more's the pity!"
"You've been awfully good and kind to me, Tad," replied Phil, turning towards him affectionately, and putting a confiding hand through his arm. "Yes, you've been like a brother to me, ever since that day at Granville when you give me and the monkey your baked dumplin'. What's that you're sayin', Tad dear? Do I love you? Rather! Of course I love you true and faithful, dear old man."
Tad gulped down a sob.
"I don't deserve it, Phil, and that's the truth," he said humbly; "but if you'll keep on doin' of it, I'll try to deserve it. There! That's a bargain!"
"Let's try and help each other to be good!" said Phil simply. "Mother used to tell me as how, if we chose, we might always have the Lord on our side. And if we did have Him, we was more than a match for any enemy. Do you remember that story in the Bible, Tad, about 'Lisha, when his enemies came and got all round the place where he was? There was chariots and horsemen and a great host—all sent to take that one poor feller. No wonder his servant was frightened and said, 'Alas, my master, how shall we do?' For thinks he to hisself, 'Here we are—the two of us—all by our lone; no one to care for us, nor no one to help us, and the enemy down there a-spreadin' hisself like a green baize.' Do you call to mind the story, Tad?"
"No; go on, Phil."
"Well," said Phil, "then what does 'Lisha do but pray to God to open the servant's eyes, and the answer to that there prayer must have come mighty quick, for all of a sudden, the man saw plain enough what he'd never thought of afore—that the mountain was full of chariots and horsemen of fire, round about 'Lisha; and that there was more friends than enemies; many more for than agen them. But as mother said," added Phil, "God's host were there afore the servant's eyes were opened, only he didn't know it. And that's how it is with us sometimes. We think we're all alone, because we don't see the chariots and horsemen of fire round about us, and we don't understand how much we may be helped, if we will, nor how ready the Lord is to hear and answer if we pray."
"I shouldn't wonder if you was right, Phil," said Tad; "howsumdever there ain't no 'Lisha nowadays, nor no chariots and horsemen of fire to come between old Foxy or Paul and us poor lads—worse luck! And when we can't see nothin', it's hard to believe that help's near. But now, Phil, I've got a idea, so just you listen and tell me what you think of it. Other things bein' equal, we'd like to leave France and get back to England, eh?"
"Yes," replied Phil, "I s'pose so."