“Yes,” said Christian, touching the open Bible, “God’s book has told me. It has told me more than that. It has told me there is forgiveness for the chief of sinners.”
“You say the truth, sir,” returned Adams, with an approving nod. “Repenting as you do, sir, an’ as I may say we all do, of what is past and can’t be helped, a merciful God will no doubt forgive us all.”
“That’s not it, that’s not it,” said Christian, quickly. “Repentance is not enough. Why, man, do you think if I went to England just now, and said ever so earnestly or so truly, ‘I repent,’ that I’d escape swinging at the yard-arm?”
“Well, I can’t say you would,” replied the sailor, somewhat puzzled; “but then man’s ways ain’t the same as God’s ways; are they, sir?”
“That’s true, Adams; but justice is always the same, whether with God or man. Besides, if repentance alone would do, where is the need of a Saviour?”
Adams’s puzzled look increased, and finally settled on the horizon. The matter had evidently never occurred to him before in that light. After a short silence he turned again to Christian.
“Well, sir, to be frank with you, I must say that I don’t rightly understand it.”
“But I do,” said Christian, again laying his hand on the Bible, “at least I think I do. God has forgiven me for Jesus Christ’s sake, and His Spirit has made me repent and accept the forgiveness, and now I feel that there is work, serious work, for me to do. I have just been praying that God would help me to do it. I’ll explain more about this hereafter. Meanwhile, I will go with you to the settlement, and try at least some parts of your plan. Come.”
There was a quiet yet cheerful air of alacrity about Fletcher Christian that day, so strongly in contrast with his previous sad and even moody deportment, that John Adams could only note it in silent surprise.
“Have you been readin’ much o’ that book up here, sir?” he asked, as they began to descend the hill.