“See here, Nell,” he said, with a strange mixture of eagerness and modesty, “I’ve joined ’em at last old girl. Look at that.”
He unrolled a M.D.S.F. flag, which he had purchased from the skipper of the mission smack.
“An’ I’ve signed the pledge too, lass.”
“Oh! David,” she exclaimed, grasping her husband’s right hand in both of hers. But her heart was too full for more.
“Yes, Nell, I’ve had grace given me to hoist the Lord’s colours in the Short Blue, an’ it was your little book as done it. I’d ha’ bin lost by now, if it hadn’t bin for the blessed Word of God.”
Again Nell essayed to speak, but the words refused to come. She laid her head on her husband’s shoulder and wept for joy.
We have said that David Bright was not by nature given to the melting mood, but his eyes grew dim and his voice faltered at this point and it is not improbable that there would have been a regular break-down, if Joe’s blessed babby had not suddenly come to the rescue in the nick of time with one of her unexpected howls. As temporary neglect was the cause of her complaint it was of course easily cured. When quiet had been restored Mrs Bright turned to her son—“Now, Billy, my boy, I must send you off immediately.”
“But what if I won’t go off—like a bad sky-rocket?” said the boy with a doubtful expression on his face.
“But you’ll have to go—and you’ll be willing enough, too, when I tell you that it’s to see Miss Ruth Dotropy you are going.”
“What!—the angel?”