“What about yourself? I guess you’re in the same boat,” said Sleeman with an oath.
“Oh, no,” said Paul.
“Why not?” said Sleeman savagely.
“Because there’s ‘repentance unto life,’ you know,” said the boy, with no attempt to conceal his satisfaction.
“And what’s that?” asked Sleeman, with a sneer.
“Tell him, Paul. Tell the benighted sinner.” Gaspard was hugely enjoying himself. Nothing loth, Paul recited the noble words, ‘Repentance unto life is a saving grace, whereby a sinner, out of a true sense of his sin, and apprehension of the mercy of God in Christ, doth, with grief and hatred of his sin, turn from it unto God, with full purpose of and endeavour after new obedience.’
“There, Sleeman, did you ever hear anything more complete?”
Sleeman growled out an oath. “I don’t know what the devil you’re talkin’ about.”
Gaspard laughed loud and long. “Of course not, my dear fellow. Have another drink. A man needs brains to understand that little book. That’s why the great unwashed gag at our great system of theology. Ha! ha!” Gaspard was immensely tickled at the boy’s answer. “Brains, my dear fellow, brains. We furnish the system, we Calvinists, but not the brains.”
“All the same, I guess I got as good a chance of missin’ hell as you, anyhow.”