“No, auntie,” said Harry, taking up Hughie's cause, “not exactly, but something very like it. You said that Pharaoh could not possibly have acted in any other way than he did.” “Yes, I said that.” “Not even if he wanted to?” asked Hughie. “Oh, I did not say that.” “The Lord hardened Pharaoh's heart,” quoted Ranald, who knew his Bible better than Harry. “Yes, that is it,” said Harry, “and so that made it impossible for Pharaoh to do anything else. He could not help following after those people.” “Why not?” said Mrs. Murray. “What made him follow? Now just think, what made him follow after those people?” “Why, he wanted to get them back,” said Hughie. “Quite true,” said his mother. “So you see, he did exactly as he wanted to.” “Then you mean the Lord had nothing to do with it?” asked Ranald. “No, I could not say that.” “Then,” said Harry, “Pharaoh could not help himself. Now, could he?” “He did what he wished to do,” said his aunt. “Yes,” said Ranald, quickly, “but could he help wishing to do what he did?” “If he had been a different man, more humble minded, and more willing to be taught, he would not have wished to do what he did.” “Mother,” said Hughie, changing his ground a little, and lowering his voice, “do you think Pharaoh is lost, and all his soldiers, and--and all the people who were bad?” Mrs. Murray looked at him in silence for a few moments, then said, very sadly, “I can't answer that question, Hughie. I do not know.” “But, mother,” persisted Hughie, “are not wicked people lost?” “Yes, Hughie,” replied his mother, “all those who do not repent of their sins and cry to God for mercy.” “Oh, mother,” cried Hughie, “forever?” His mother did not reply. “Will He never let them out, mother?” continued Hughie, in piteous appeal. “Listen to me, Hughie,” said his mother, very gently. “We know very little about this. Would you be very sorry, even for very bad men?” “Oh, mother,” cried Hughie, his tender little heart moved with a great compassion, “think of a whole year, all summer long, and all winter long. I think I would let anybody out.” “Then, Hughie, dear,” said his mother, “remember that God is much kinder than you are, and has a heart far more tender, and while He will be just and must punish sin, He will do nothing unjust or unkind, you may be quite sure of that. Do not forget how He gave up His own dear son for us.” Poor Hughie could bear it no longer. He put his head in his mother's lap and sobbed out, “Oh, mother, I hope he will let them out.” As he uttered this pitiful little cry, his cousin Harry got up from his chair, and moved across to the window, while Maimie openly wiped her eyes, but Ranald sat with his face set hard, and his eyes gleaming, waiting eagerly for Mrs. Murray's answer. The mother stroked Hughie's head softly, and while her tears fell on the brown curls, said to him, “You would not be afraid to trust your mother, Hughie, and our Father in heaven loves us all much more than I love you.”