“Do you not regret that your life has been so full of wrong, and such a failure?” she asked.
“Yes, indeed, miss,” he replied, earnestly; “I’m bitter sorry, and I’ve thought it all over and over again the long nights I’ve had to lie awake here with the cough, but I couldn’t see any way out of it.”
“Jesus is the way, the truth, and the light,” came involuntarily from Editha’s lips.
“Yes, I’ve heard that more times than I can count, but I can’t understand it, some way,” he said, with a perplexed look.
Editha sighed.
What could she say to comfort him? And the thought came to her that, after all, she would rather be in Earle’s place, who had patiently and innocently suffered a great wrong, even though the cloud which now overshadowed him should never be dissipated until that day when all things shall be revealed, than to be lying here like this guilty one, upon the borders of eternity, with no hope beyond, even though his life of sin had escaped all worldly chastisement.
“If you were in some dark and dangerous place,” she said again, and speaking very slowly and earnestly, “and I should tell you to take my hand, for I knew the way, and would lead you safely out, would you refuse to do as I asked you?”
“Truth, no, miss; and you would not have to ask me more than once, either. But the future is mighty dark to me, and you can’t lead me through that.”
“No; but the Friend of sinners can.”
“Friend of sinners!” he repeated, feebly. “That sounds pleasant.”