“It was at a place, maybe, you have not been to nor heard of either, seeing it’s of no great size,” answered the old man; “it’s called Springvale, and is not far from the little town of Oldport; and my name is Gray, sir, at your service.”
“Gray!” exclaimed Peter, taking the old man’s hand, and scarcely able to speak. “Come into my cabin, I wish to tell you more about your wife and son.”
Peter had no longer any doubt that his long-lost father stood before him, but he was unwilling to make himself known in sight of his crew, fearing also the effect the announcement would have on the old man.
Conducting the old sailor, whose countenance wore an expression of astonishment, down into the cabin, he closed the door, and placing him respectfully on a sofa, still holding his hand, sat himself down by his side.
“You were telling me,” he said, “that you have learned the truth, and you know, therefore, God’s love and mercy, and that He orders all things for the best. You have been very many years from home, and must be aware that though your son when you saw him last was a little boy, he must now be a grown man; your wife, too, would be an old woman. Have you ever thought of the hardships and trials to which she would probably have been exposed, left all alone to struggle with the hard world, and still having to go through them? But suppose God in His mercy had taken her to Himself, and you knew that she had been spending all these years in happiness unspeakable, would you not have cause to rejoice?”
The old sailor gazed at the young captain, scarcely able to comprehend him clearly.
“God is very merciful; He loves me, though I am a sinner, and orders all for the best. I know that is what Mr Wilson says, and he speaks the truth, for he turned me from little better than a savage into a Christian man,” answered the old sailor.
As he spoke his eyes fell on Peter’s Bible, which lay on the table with the leathern case beside it.
“What are you driving at, sir?” he exclaimed in an agitated tone. “I remember that book, as if I had seen it but yesterday; it was my wife’s. Do you know her? tell me, tell me.”
Peter placed his arm so that the old man’s head might rest on it. “My name is Gray, sir,” he said. “That book was indeed your wife’s, my mother’s, and I am very sure that I am your son.”