Ned, though he cared very little as to what the old man might say about him, did not wish to have Mary’s feelings hurt, and promising obedience, walked on to a spot whence he could watch for her when she came out.
She rapped at the door, the bolts were withdrawn, and she entered.
“Glad to see you, little girl,” said Mr Shank, as he led the way into his room. “No one has come here for many a day. I am well-nigh starving, for the people in the village yonder do not trouble themselves about the wretched old miser, as they call me; and I could not go out yesterday to buy food—if I did, where was I to get the money to pay for it?”
“Aunt, fearing that you might be in want, has sent you something to eat,” said Mary, unpacking her basket, and placing the contents on the three-legged table.
The old man drew it towards him, and began to eat far more voraciously than usual, showing that in one respect at all events his assertion was correct. Mary, thinking that it might amuse him, mentioned the lieutenant’s journey to London and its object.
“So they intend to send that boy off to sea! The best thing they can do with him. Boys are always up to mischief at home, and it is to be hoped he’ll never come back.”
“You should not say that, Mr Shank!” exclaimed Mary, indignantly. “Ned is a good honest boy, he never harmed you in any way, and if he had it is your duty to forgive him, for God tells us in His Word to forgive our enemies, and do good to those who ill-treat us.”
“I don’t understand that; if we are not to hate our enemies, who and what are we to hate?” muttered the old man.
“We are to hate nothing except sin and Satan, because that is what God hates, I am very sure,” said Mary. “Doesn’t the book I brought you last week say that? And here is another which aunt has sent you, perhaps you will like to read it,” and she put the volume on the table.
“What the book says doesn’t concern me. I do no harm to any one; all I want is to lead a quiet life and be let alone,” he muttered, evidently not wishing to enter into a discussion with the little girl, fearing perhaps that he might lose his temper. He, however, took the book she had brought and gave her back the other, observing, “Perhaps your aunt will lend it me at some other time if I feel ill and fancy I am going to die; but I shan’t die yet, O no, no, I want to live a great many years longer.”