"I think I can," said the old man.
"And you can say it when you're out under the railway-bridge, can't you?" asked Audrey.
"I think so; I'll try," said the old man humbly.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" said little Stephen. "'I do so want you to be one of the Children of Light."
[CHAPTER XI]
The Hot Summer
AFTER this Audrey and Stephen had many a talk with old Joe, in the evening, about the Kingdom of Light. He kept his promise, and said the little prayer; and Granny Robin said that she felt sure that it was being answered—he was so humble, so sorry for his sinful life, so anxious to walk as the Children of Light ought to walk.
It was touching to see his love for the children. He had been so long without any one to care for him, that it was a new life to him to be amongst kind, friendly faces, and all the love of his poor old heart went out to them. As the evenings grew long and light, he followed them about the churchyard, helping them to water the graves, and to cut down the long grass at the foot of the stones.
But if old Maria happened, by any chance, to come into the churchyard to show the old building to a stranger, he always hid behind a bush until she was out of sight. He seemed to fear that, by some means, she would know how often he had spent the night in the pulpit, and would speak to him about it.
Stephen and Audrey were very pleased to find that old Joe had watched the swallows with as much interest as they had done. He told them that he had liked to have their company in the deserted church, and that when he woke early in the morning he had loved to hear them twittering overhead, and to watch them flying in and out of the broken pane in the east window. There were young birds in the nest now, and Audrey and Stephen spent a great part of every day in looking in through the window, and in watching the parent birds feeding them.