Buck himself had no such hope; but, being a man of strong will, he refused to let it be seen in his demeanour that he thought his case to be hopeless. Yet he did not act from bravado, or the slightest tincture of that spirit which resolves to “die game.” The approach of death had indeed torn away the veil and permitted him to see himself in his true colours, but he did not at that time see Jesus to be the Saviour of even “the chief of sinners.” Therefore his hopelessness took the form of silent submission to the inevitable.
Of course Charlie Brooke spoke to him more than once of the love of God in Christ, and of the dying thief who had looked to Jesus on the cross and was saved, but Buck only shook his head. One afternoon in particular Charlie tried hard to remove the poor man’s perplexities.
“It’s all very well, Brooke,” said Buck Tom, “and very kind of you to interest yourself in me, but the love of God and the salvation of Christ are not for me. You don’t know what a sinner I have been, a rebel all my life—all my life, mark you. I would count it mean to come whining for pardon now that the game is up. I deserve hell—or whatever sort o’ punishment is due—an’ I’m willing to take it.”
“Ralph Ritson,” said Brooke impressively, “you are a far greater sinner than you think or admit.”
“Perhaps I am,” returned the outlaw sadly, and with a slight expression of surprise. “Perhaps I am,” he repeated. “Indeed I admit that you are right, but—but your saying so is a somewhat strange way to comfort a dying man. Is it not?”
“I am not trying to comfort you. I am trying, by God’s grace, to convince you. You tell me that you have been a rebel all your days?”
“Yes; I admit it.”
“There are still, it may be, a few days yet to run, and you are determined, it seems, to spend these in rebellion too—up to the very end!”
“Nay, I do not say that. Have I not said that I submit to whatever punishment is due? Surely that is not rebellion. I can do nothing now to make up for a mis-spent life, so I am willing to accept the consequences. Is not that submission to God—at least as far as lies in my power?”
“No; it is not submission. Bear with me when I say it is rebellion, still deeper rebellion than ever. God says to you, ‘You have destroyed yourself but in me is your help.’ He says, ‘Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be white as snow.’ He says, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved,’ and assures you that ‘whoever will’ may come to Him, and that no one who comes shall be cast out—yet in the face of all that you tell me that the love of God and the salvation of Christ are not for you! Ralph, my friend, you think that if you had a chance of living your life over again you would do better and so deserve salvation. That is exactly what God tells us we cannot do, and then He tells us that He Himself, in Jesus Christ, has provided salvation from sin for us, offers it as a free unmerited gift; and immediately we dive to the deepest depth of sin by deliberately refusing this deliverance from sin unless we can somehow manage to deserve it.”