Afraid of exciting her patient, Mrs. Power did not answer, hoping that sleep would come to quiet the troubled brain, but after a few moments' pause Ben began again--
"When the doctor came this afternoon I know you all thought I was unconscious, but I heard him say, 'Field's got a bad case against him,' as he left the room. I was jolly glad at first, for I'd been wanting to have a handle against him for a long time past. However, when a man's on the brink of the grave, he's bound to think a bit, so I feel I ought to speak up. It certainly was Field who shot me, but he didn't know I was there. I was putting down food for the pheasants, the plantation being a grand place for poaching, and I hid in the bushes as he came by. He fired at a cat, but he got me instead. I was stunned for a while, and then only managed to stagger to the wall, hoping someone would find me as they passed along the road. I thought I was done for when I fell again in the wood."
"Do you want to make this known?" asked Mrs. Power. "Suspicions have been very rife in Mr. Field's direction, everyone knowing that he had a grudge against you."
"Yes," answered Ben slowly, "I want to make it known. I've had a hard fight inside me this last hour, when you believed I was asleep. I felt I had him at my mercy, and at first I determined that I wouldn't lift up my little finger to help him, knowing that if I died he would probably have to swing for me. It's a solemn thing, though, to know for certain that God is just on the other side of those gates, and that if they open for you, you will have to face Him right there by yourself, and that His holy eyes will search you through and through. Well, somehow things look different when it comes to that, and if I should die I dare not meet Him with a black thought like that in my heart. So I shall be glad if you will tell them all that it was entirely my fault and not Mr. Field's. I had no business to be there at all."
In the presence of the landlord, Mrs. Power took down the statement, which, with much difficulty, Ben managed to sign, after which he sank back upon the pillow, wearied with the exertion, and soon fell into a calm and restful sleep.
During the days which followed, many a long talk had Ben with his kind and patient nurse. The man's heart was softened by the danger which he had so lately passed through, and his ears were attentive as she sought to lead him to the One his father had known and trusted so well.
"I should like to make my peace with God," was his cry, "but I've sinned against Him all my life and I'm ashamed to come to Him now."
"Nevertheless you may be quite sure of a welcome," replied Mrs. Power. "The wonder is that it is He Who invites us to make peace with Him--not we who have to wring forgiveness from an unwilling God. He actually pleads with us to come to Him. Listen to what St. Paul says, Ben, 'Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.'"
"To think of God beseeching us to come to Him," said Ben, "when we have neglected Him so long! It seems too good to be true!"
"It is only through our Lord Jesus Christ that we can come to Him," answered Mrs. Power. "It is He Who has made it possible for God to forgive. 'He hath made Him to be sin for us, Who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him.' You remember the old hymn--