“I didn’t know what to do, nor where to go, but I prayed to the Lord to guide me, and lead me in his own good time to fayther and our Betty, and the Lord has heard me, and he’s done it in his own gracious way.”
He then recounted his meeting with Old Crow, the knife-grinder, and his subsequent history to the time when, on that very evening, he was led in the good providence of his heavenly Father to turn down the lane to the little cottage.
“The Lord be praised, the Lord be praised!” exclaimed poor Johnson, when the story was finished. “Surely goodness and mercy he’s been to us all. And, oh, he’s been very good in bringing back our Sammul.”
“We shall have a rare family gathering when we all meet, Old Crow, Deborah, and all,” said Betty. “There’ll be fayther, and our John, and our Sammul, and our Jacob, and our Deborah, and Old Crow, and little Sammul, and the babe. We must get the squire to build us another cottage.”
“Ah, Betty, my own sister,” said Samuel, “it does my heart good to hear your voice once more. Add now I want fayther to tell his tale. I want to know all about the flitting, and the black and red letters, and all, and how you came to light on this lovely spot.”
Johnson raised himself in his chair, and prepared to speak. What a wondrous change Christian total abstinence had made in his whole appearance. The prominent animal features had sunk or softened down, the rational and intellectual had become developed. He looked like a man, God’s thinking and immortal creature now; before, he had looked more like a beast, with all that was savage intensified by the venom of perverted intelligence. Now he sat up with all that was noble in his character shining out upon his countenance, specially his quiet iron determination and decision, in which father and son were so much alike. And there was, hallowing every line and look, that peace which passeth understanding, and which flows from no earthly fountain.
“Sammul, my lad,” he said, “God has been very good to me, for I can say, ‘This my son was lost, and is found.’ He’s given me a cup brimful of mercies; but the biggest of all is, he’s sent us our Sammul back again. But I will not spin out my tale with needless talk, as you’ll be impatient to know all about our flitting. You’ll remember Ned Brierley?”
“Ay, well enough,” said his son.
“Well, Ned were my best friend on earth, for you must know it were he as got me to sign the pledge. That were arter I got well arter the explosion. Ye heard of the explosion?”
“Yes,” replied Samuel; “I heard on it arter I left Langhurst.”