Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished Part 46

Ned gave a cynical laugh. "You're easy to gull," he said; "why, when it serves my purpose I can lie like a trooper."

"I know that," returned the visitor, quietly, "but it serves your purpose to-night to speak the truth. I can see that. May I pray that G.o.d should guide you?"

"Yes, you may, but not here. I'll have no hypocritical goin' down on my knees till I see my way to it. If I don't see my way to it, I'll let you know when you come back this day three weeks."

"Well, I'll pray for you in my own room, Ned Frog."

"You may do what you like in your own room. Good-night."

He lifted the trap-door as he spoke, and pointed downward. The missionary at once descended after a brief "good-night," and a pleasant nod. Ned just gave him time to get his head out of the way when he let the trap fall with a clap like thunder, and then began to pace up and down his little room with his hands in his pockets and his chin on his breast.

After a short time he went to a corner of the room where stood a small wooden box that contained the few articles of clothing which he possessed. From the bottom of this he fished up the New Testament that had been given to him long ago by Reggie North. Drawing his chair to the table and the candle to his elbow, the returned convict opened the Book, and there in his garret began for the first time to read in earnest the wonderful Word of Life!

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

THE GREAT CHANGE.

Punctual to the day and the hour, the missionary returned to Ned's garret.

Much and earnestly had he prayed, in the meantime, that the man might be guided in his search after truth, and that to himself might be given words of wisdom which might have weight with him.

But the missionary's words were not now required.

G.o.d had spoken to the rough man by his own Word. The Holy Spirit had carried conviction home.

He had also revealed the Saviour, and the man was converted before the missionary again saw him. Reader, we present no fancy portrait to you.

Our fiction had its counterpart in actual life. Ned Frog, in essential points at least, represents a real man--though we have, doubtless, saddled on his broad shoulders a few unimportant matters, which perhaps did not belong to him.

"I believe that this is G.o.d's Word, my friend," he said, extending his hand, the moment the missionary entered, "and in proof of that I will now ask you to kneel with me and pray."

You may be sure that the man of G.o.d complied gladly and with a full heart.

We may not, however, trace here the after-course of this man in detail.

For our purpose it will suffice to say that this was no mere flash in the pan. Ned Frog's character did not change. It only received a new direction and a new impulse. The vigorous energy and fearless determination with which he had in former days pursued sin and self-gratification had now been turned into channels of righteousness.

Very soon after finding Jesus for himself, he began earnestly to desire the salvation of others, and, in a quiet humble way, began with the poor people in his own stair.

But this could not satisfy him. He was too strong both in body and mind to be restrained, and soon took to open-air preaching.

"I'm going to begin a mission," he said, one day, to the missionary who had brought him to the Saviour. "There are many stout able fellows here who used to accept me as a leader in wickedness, and who will, perhaps, agree to follow me in a new walk. Some of them have come to the Lord already. I'm goin', sir, to get these to form a band of workers, and we'll take up a district."

"Good," said the missionary, "there's nothing like united action. What part of the district will you take up yourself, Ned?"

"The place where I stand, sir," he replied. "Where I have sinned there will I preach to men the Saviour of sinners."

And he did preach, not with eloquence, perhaps, but with such fervour that many of his old comrades were touched deeply, and some were brought to Christ and joined his "Daniel Band." Moreover, Ned kept to his own district and cla.s.s. He did not a.s.sume that all rich church-goers are hypocrites, and that it was his duty to stand in conspicuous places and howl to them the message of salvation, in tones of rasping discord. No, it was noted by his mates, as particularly curious, that the voice of the man who could, when he chose, roar like a bull of Bashan, had become soft and what we may style entreative in its tone. Moreover, he did not try to imitate clerical errors. He did not get upon a deadly monotone while preaching, as so many do. He simply _spoke_ when he preached-- spoke loud, no doubt, but in a tone precisely similar to that in which, in former days, he would have seriously advised a brother burglar to adopt a certain course, or to carefully steer clear of another course, in order to gain his ends or to avoid falling into the hands of the police. Thus men, when listening to him, came to believe that he was really speaking to them in earnest, and not "preaching!"

Oh! that young men who aim at the high privilege of proclaiming the "good news" would reflect on this latter point, and try to steer clear of that fatal rock on which the Church--not the Episcopal, Presbyterian, or any other Church, but the whole Church militant--has been b.u.mping so long to her own tremendous damage!

One point which told powerfully with those whom Ned sought to win was, that he went about endeavouring, as far as in him lay, to undo the evil that he had done. Some of it could never be undone--he felt that bitterly. Some could be remedied--he rejoiced in that and went about it with vigour.

For instance, he owed several debts. Being a handy fellow and strong, he worked like a horse, and soon paid off his debts to the last farthing. Again, many a time had he, in days gone by, insulted and defamed comrades and friends. These he sought out with care and begged their pardon. The bulldog courage in him was so strong that in former days he would have struck or insulted any man who provoked him, without reference to his, it might be, superior size or strength. He now went as boldly forward to confess his sin and to apologise. Sometimes his apologies were kindly received, at other times he was rudely repelled and called a hypocrite in language that we may not repeat, but he took it well; he resented nothing now, and used to say he had been made invulnerable since he had enlisted under the banner of the Prince of Peace.

Yet, strange to say, the man's pugilistic powers were not rendered useless by his pacific life and profession.

One day he was pa.s.sing down one of those streets where even the police prefer to go in couples. Suddenly a door burst open and a poor drunken woman was kicked out into the street by a big ruffian with whom Ned was not acquainted. Not satisfied with what he had done, the rough proceeded to kick the woman, who began to scream "murder!"

A crowd at once collected, for, although such incidents were common enough in such places, they always possessed sufficient interest to draw a crowd; but no one interfered, first, because no one cared, and, second, because the man was so big and powerful that every one was afraid of him.

Of course Ned interfered, not with an indignant statement that the man ought to be ashamed of himself, but, with the quiet remark--

"She's only a woman, you know, an' can't return it."

"An' wot 'ave _you_ got to do with it?" cried the man with a savage curse, as he aimed a tremendous blow at Ned with his right-hand.

Our pugilist expected that. He did not start or raise his hands to defend himself, he merely put his head to one side, and the huge fist went harmlessly past his ear. Savagely the rough struck out with the other fist, but Ned quietly, yet quickly put his head to the other side, and again the fist went innocently by. A loud laugh and cheer from the crowd greeted this, for, apart altogether from the occasion of the disagreement, this turning of the head aside was very pretty play on the part of Ned--being a remarkably easy-looking but exceedingly difficult action, as all boxers know. It enabled Ned to smile in the face of his foe without doing him any harm. But it enraged the rough to such an extent, that he struck out fast as well as hard, obliging Ned to put himself in the old familiar att.i.tude, and skip about smartly.

"I don't want to hurt you, friend," said Ned at last, "but I _can_, you see!" and he gave the man a slight pat on his right cheek with one hand and a tap on the forehead with the other.

This might have convinced the rough, but he would not be convinced. Ned therefore gave him suddenly an open-handed slap on the side of the head which sent him through his own doorway; through his own kitchen--if we may so name it--and into his own coal-cellar, where he measured his length among cinders and domestic _debris_.

"I didn't want to do it, friends," said Ned in a mild voice, as soon as the laughter had subsided, "but, you see, in the Bible--a book I'm uncommon fond of--we're told, as far as we can, to live peaceably with all men. Now, you see, I couldn't live peaceably wi' this man to-day.

He wouldn't let me, but I think I'll manage to do it some day, for I'll come back here to-morrow, and say I'm sorry I had to do it. Meanwhile I have a word to say to you about this matter."

Here Ned got upon the door-step of his adversary, and finished off by what is sometimes styled "improving the occasion."

Of course, one of the first things that Ned Frog did, on coming to his "right mind," was to make earnest and frequent inquiries as to the fate of his wife and family. Unfortunately the man who might have guided him to the right sources of information--the City missionary who had brought him to a knowledge of the truth--was seized with a severe illness, which not only confined him to a sick-bed for many weeks, but afterwards rendered it necessary that he should absent himself for a long time from the sphere of his labours. Thus, being left to himself, Ned's search was misdirected, and at last he came to the heart-breaking conclusion that they must have gone, as he expressed it, "to the bad;" that perhaps his wife had carried out her oft-repeated threat, and drowned herself, and that Bobby, having been only too successful a pupil in the ways of wickedness, had got himself transported.

To prosecute his inquiries among his old foes, the police, was so repugnant to Ned that he shrank from it, after the failure of one or two attempts, and the only other source which might have been successful he failed to appeal to through his own ignorance. He only knew of George Yard and the Home of Industry by name, as being places which he had hated, because his daughter Hetty was so taken up with them. Of course he was now aware that the people of George Yard did good work for his new Master, but he was so ignorant of the special phase of their work at the beginning of his Christian career that he never thought of applying to them for information. Afterwards he became so busy with his own special work, that he forgot all about these inst.i.tutions.

When the missionary recovered and returned to his work, he at once--on hearing for the first time from Ned his family history--put him on the scent, and the discovery was then made that they had gone to Canada. He wrote immediately, and soon received a joyful reply from Hetty and a postscript from Bobby, which set his heart singing and his soul ablaze with grat.i.tude to a sparing and preserving G.o.d.

About that time, however, the robust frame gave way under the amount of labour it was called on to perform. Ned was obliged to go into hospital. When there he received pressing invitations to go out to Canada, and offers of pa.s.sage-money to any extent. Mrs Frog also offered to return home without delay and nurse him, and only waited to know whether he would allow her.

Ned declined, on the ground that he meant to accept their invitation and go to Canada as soon as he was able to undertake the voyage.

A relapse, however, interfered with his plans, and thus the visit, like many other desirable events in human affairs, was, for a time, delayed.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HOME AGAIN.

Time pa.s.sed away, and Bobby Frog said to his mother one morning, "Mother, I'm going to England."