Danny was taken aback. This was so different from the kind, jolly artist of this morning. Suddenly he realized a little the bitterness of soul produced by those seven years’ unjust confinement, and by the cruel loss of his child.
He saw the whole story in a new light and understood it better. More than ever did he long to help this man, and yet those words, spoken so deliberately, filled him with horror. Revenge is a grievous sin. How could this man pray every day to find his daughter, and expect God to hear his prayers, while, in his heart of hearts, there was revenge?
“Well,” said the tramp, staring at Danny, “what’s the matter?”
“Oh, sir,” cried Danny, “then we shall never find Mariette!”
“What do you mean?” said the tramp.
“I mean,” said Danny, “that the only possible chance of finding her is for God to answer your prayers. And He won’t do that till you forgive your enemies.”
The tramp scowled darkly.
“You’re only a boy,” he said; “you don’t understand. There are some things a man can’t forgive.”
There was nothing more to be said. Danny’s heart was heavy as he went to bed that night.