"Dost thou believe in a God?" I asked. "Art thou a Christian?"
"Surely," he replied indignantly. "Dost thou take me for a heathen, that thou shouldst ask me such a question?"
"Well," I answered, "dost thou remember the tale of the good Samaritan, how the poor man, stricken by his wound, fell by the wayside, and how the priest with holy look passed by on the other side, then the Samaritan, seeing him, took pity upon him, and binding up his wounds, put him upon his own beast, and carrying him to the inn, paid for his lodging and left him there? Thou hast thy choice. Wilt thou be the priest or the good Samaritan?"
The tears were in his eyes as he answered:
"I will take the lad and keep him until he is restored to health and strength."
"I thank thee," I answered. "I know not whether I will see thee again, but I shall not forget thy kindness. May thy God reward thee if I cannot, and as thou dealest with the lad, so may he deal with thee," and I put into his hands my purse. It had some money left in it.
"Tell the boy that my thoughts shall be of him, and that I shall ever treasure in sweetest remembrance his friendship and love. It will brighten the pathway, and if I do not see him again, may God be with him." And turning, I passed to the door.
The little Doctor followed me, and stretched out his hand.
"Thou art a man," he said, "whatever thy faults. I will hold ever sacred the trust thou hast given me, and will deal with the boy as I would with my own."