“But I want you to know,” said Knight. “One cannot talk much about it; but I ought to tell you, and I will. I had never prayed before, but then with all my heart I called upon Jesus Christ. I asked Him, if it were true, as so many people believed, that He was really the living Saviour, to reveal Himself now. And He did.” “But your friend did not live.” “No; we did not ask for that. That was not what we most wanted. What we needed was the assurance that there is SOME ONE who sees us in our weakness and cares for our pain, and hears us when we cry. The assurance came so certainly that I have never doubted since. Hutton grew first calm, and then radiantly happy—as I had never seen him before. He looked up with a wonderful light upon his face, as if he could really see what is beyond, and he died with the name of Jesus upon his lips.” “I am very glad. And what of yourself?” “Of course, I cannot explain things. Dallington and I have received pretty regularly from England all the books and journals which we could get; and I know that this is a time of great doubt. I cannot answer the questions that are asked. But”—and the young man bowed his head reverently—“I believe in the Son of God, and I rest in His salvation.” Such a conversation could not be a protracted one. Miss Wentworth could only look the sympathy and joy which she felt; and Arthur Knight walked the length of the deck twice, and then joined his friend. When the three met again on the following day the talk was of a less serious character. “I wonder,” said Miss Wentworth, “if you are going to rave against everything English, as so many of our countrymen do?” “No, indeed,” replied Dallington; “I think we shall be more likely to err in the opposite direction. I, for one, am proud of my country. I suppose we might learn a few things from other nations, but I am very well satisfied to be an Englishman.” “What are you going to do?” “I have an estate to look after,” said Dallington. “I am going to take care of my mother, and find out the best way of growing fruit and corn.” “And I am going to help my father,” said Knight. “He is a manufacturer.” “But his son does not wish to be a manufacturer,” said Dallington, significantly. “He hopes to talk the people of England round to his ideas.” Knight’s face flushed almost painfully. “We cannot always alter circumstances,” he said; “but I confess that there is to me a marvellous fascination in a listening crowd. There is, however, no lack of orators in England.” “A new man who has something to say, and knows how to say it, has always his chance, though,” said Miss Wentworth. What his dreams had been by night and day the young man did not tell. He said, “My father’s business is a large one. I have some ideas on the subject of heads and hands, or masters and men; and hope I may have the opportunity of putting them into practice.”