He was "nobody" to the rich and great of this world, and he never would be of any consequence. But could it be true that his soul was as precious in God's sight as that of, say Mr. Drummond, or Mr. John Rutherford? He might go higher still, and say, as the soul of the Queen of England? If God had given His only Son for the sake of Adam Livesey, why, He could give no more or better for the greatest king in the world!
"He must have loved me, or He couldn't ha' done it," thought Adam; and he found a new joy in the thought, while in his ears seemed to sound again the words in which he had felt unable to join when at the Mission Room, "I am so glad that Jesus loves me."
He felt as if he could sing them now, and caught himself whispering "Even me" with a new sense of happiness. But he wanted to know a great deal more, and he felt that he could not sleep while all this inner questioning was going on.
The preacher had said they must begin by repenting. Now, what had he to repent about? There was marrying Maggie. He had troubled about that. But dear me! How she had silenced his regrets on that score whilst they sat in the railway carriage. She didn't own to having eaten rue pie, not she, indeed, but said that if it were to do again, she, knowing all that was to follow, would take him to her heart.
Thinking over that little scene, Adam smiled to himself, and seeming to feel the wife's kisses on his rough face, said softly, "No, no. If she doesn't rue, I needn't." So repentance on this score was out of the question.
Then Adam began to think what else there was. He was resolved, if he made a start on the new road, it should be a fair one, and so he looked back as far as he could on his past life, with the honest intention of finding out what he ought to be sorry for.
Not about mother. He had given up much, done his best, stuck to her alone, and to the last.
Conscience expressed herself satisfied on this point. Not with respect to his employers! As boy and man no one could say that Adam Livesey had not given a fair penn'orth of work for every penny of wages.
Again conscience affirmed the assertion.
There were wife and children. Well, he had never abused the one or the other. He gave them all he could win by steady, honest toil. He never used hard or cruel words, or struck his innocent little ones, or spent on drink and self-indulgence even a small portion of the wages he earned.