Then Nelson straightened himself up and said—
‘Well, sir! I believe a lot of the men would go in for this if they were dead sure they would get through.’
‘Get through!’ said Craig; ‘never a fear of it. It is a hard fight, a long fight, a glorious fight,’ throwing up his head, but every man who squarely trusts Him, and takes Him as Lord and Master, comes out victor!’
‘Bon!’ said Baptiste ‘Das me. You tink He’s take me in dat fight, M’sieu Craig, heh?’ His eyes were blazing.
‘You mean it?’ asked Craig almost sternly.
‘Yes! by gar!’ said the little Frenchman eagerly.
‘Hear what He says, then’; and Craig, turning over the leaves of his Testament, read solemnly the words, ‘Swear not at all.’
‘Non! For sure! Den I stop him,’ replied Baptiste earnestly; and Craig wrote his name down.
Poor Abe looked amazed and distressed, rose slowly, and saying, ‘That jars my whisky jug,’ passed out. There was a slight movement near the organ, and glancing up I saw Mrs. Mavor put her face hastily in her hands. The men’s faces were anxious and troubled, and Nelson said in a voice that broke—
‘Tell them what you told me, sir.’ But Craig was troubled too, and replied, ‘You tell them, Nelson!’ and Nelson told the men the story of how he began just five weeks ago. The old man’s voice steadied as he went on, and he grew eager as he told how he had been helped, and how the world was all different, and his heart seemed new. He spoke of his Friend as if He were some one that could be seen out at camp, that he knew well, and met every day.