“It’s theirs,” was the hearty answer,—“or, rather, it’s yours, my dear lady!”
“Oh, no, no, no!” she disclaimed. “The generous gift is all your own, dear friend,—all your own. And it will be repaid. Dan and his good old aunt may have no words to thank you, to bless you; but some day” (and the glad voice grew softer, sweeter),—“some day when life’s long voyage is over for you, Captain, and the log-book is open to the Master’s gaze—”
“It will be a tough showing,” interrupted the old man, gruffly,—“a tough showing through and through.”
“Oh, no, no, no!” she said gently. “One entry, I am sure, will clear many a page, dear friend. One entry will give you safe anchorage—harbor rights; for has not the Master Himself said, ‘As long as you did it to one of these My least brethren, you did it to Me’?”
XXV.—Going Home.
“We’re to be off to-morrow,” said Brother Bart, a little sadly. “And, though it will be a blessed thing to get back in the holy peace of St. Andrew’s, with the boys all safe and sound—which is a mercy I couldn’t expect,—to say nothing of laddie’s father being drawn out of his wanderings into the grace of God, I’m sore-hearted at leaving Killykinick. You’ve been very good to us, Jeroboam,—both you and your brother, who is a deal wiser than at first sight you’d think. You’ve been true friends both in light and darkness; and may God reward you and bring you to the true faith! That will be my prayer for you night and day.—And now you’re to pack up, boys, and get all your things together; for it’s Father Regan’s orders that we are to come back home.”
“Where is our home, daddy?” asked Freddy, with lively interest. “For we can have a real true home now, can’t we?”
“I hope so, my boy.” They were out on the smooth stretch of beach, where daddy, growing strong and well fast, spent most of his time, stretched out in one of Great-uncle Joe’s cushiony chairs; while Roy and Rex crouched contentedly at his feet, or broke into wild frolic with Freddy on the rocks or in the sea. “I hope so; though I’m afraid I don’t know much about making a home, my little Boy Blue!”
“Oh, don’t you, daddy?” said Freddy, ruefully. “I have always wanted a home so much,—a real true home, with curtains and carpets, and pictures on the walls, and a real fire that snaps and blazes.”
“Yes, I heard you say that before,” answered his father, softly. “I think it was that little talk on the boat that brought me down, where I could take a peep at my homeless little boy again; though I was afraid Captain Jeb would find me out if I ventured to Killykinick. I was just making up my mind to risk it and go over, when this fever caught me.”