Chapter VII: Forgiveness

"I DON'T know what Mr. Dodge will do," said Mr. Crawson to his wife when the boy had left the room. "I know what I should have done if it had been my boy that was hurt so. I'd have taken the fellow that did it, and if the law wouldn't punish him, I'd have thrashed him within an inch of his life. But the law will. There's no doubt about that. I never can live here disgraced, so there's an end of it!"

Mrs. Crawson was sobbing, frightened at her husband's fierce looks.

"They say Mr. Dodge is a church member," she began timidly, "and perhaps he'll remember Daniel is only a boy."

"When he does that I shall think there's some reality in religion," answered the man scornfully. "But," he added instantly, "I should ha' done it myself. It's no use to be angry. I can't sleep and so I may as well go back."

This was the time he saw Ellen.

"Oh Dan! Oh, my poor boy!" groaned the man turning away into the darkness.

Two more days of dreadful suspense followed. Another physician from the Hospital in the city near by had visited the poor boy, but did not change the course of treatment.

When the fever was at its height poor Jimmy talked incessantly. Sometimes he thought himself at school and repeated a few words of an old lesson in a loud voice. Then he was at home talking to his father or Dexter. Once he began a prayer, but stopped short with a cry of distress, and then added; "God wont hear liars!" This was succeeded by a loud unmeaning laugh.

Every word cut his mother's heart as with a knife. Still her constant cry to her merciful Father was:

"Spare! spare, for thy Son's sake! Give back his reason, and spare for repentance!"

At the close of the third day there seemed a change. The poor child lay more quiet. No one could tell whether the symptom was a favorable one. The afflicted family had repeated visits from their clergyman. As he was leaving the last time he asked:

"Have you seen Mr. Crawson? I never saw a man so changed. I am told he has not once left home or allowed his son to step over the threshold since the sad accident. He considers himself pledged to you not to let his son escape whatever the consequences may be."

"I remember nothing of that," remarked Mr. Dodge. "I sincerely pity him."

Not more than an hour later there was another call to Mr. Dodge from the bedside of his sick, perhaps dying child.

It was Mr. Crawson, haggard, pale and hollow-eyed.

"I can't stand it any longer," he exclaimed. "I want to know what you intend to do to my son."

"I don't understand you, neighbor."

"I mean in case of the worst. I know I ought not to come to you in your trouble; but I can't eat nor sleep till it's decided."

"Do you mean in regard to Daniel who struck the blow by which my son was injured?"

"Yes."

"Does he seem penitent?"

"He's done little but cry ever since."

"Then tell him I freely forgive him as I hope God will."

Mr. Crawson reeled forward as if he had been struck.

"Do you mean to say," he gasped, "that you shan't take him up, commit him to jail for trial?"

"I never thought of doing such a thing. Every day when I pray that God would give me back the life of my boy, I pray that this dreadful event may be blessed to his companion. You may tell him so. It would be in vain for us to ask God to forgive our sins, if we did not from the heart forgive each other."

There was a sound like a suppressed sob as Mr. Crawson without a word turned away. Before he left the yard, he was crying aloud.

He was half way home when he met the clergyman.

"I believe it. I believe it," he exclaimed wringing the man's hand. "I always scoffed at religion. I allus said it did for Sunday use; but it wouldn't work for every day wear; but I believe it now; and Mr. Dodge has got it too. I must go home and tell my poor boy."

The next day when Jimmy after a long sleep opened his eyes the light of reason dawned in them. He gazed at his mother a moment and then smiled a recognition.

She bent over, kissed his pale cheek and rushed from the room to give vent to her joy and gratitude. On her knees, with her hands clasped, did she thank the Giver of all her mercies for this last, best answer to her prayers; for the good Doctor had told them if he woke conscious, there would be good reason to hope. Jimmy saved, Jimmy's reason restored, that he might repent and forsake his sins; what more had she to ask for?

The first word the poor patient spoke was, "mother;" and before she could stop him he said:

"I'm sick; but I can't die till I've told you how naughty I was."

"You shall tell me all, darling; but you are too weak now."

"I can't be better till I tell you; and I want you to tell God for me how sorry I am."

Then in a few broken words he confessed his yielding to temptation, his deceit and all his sin, and asked in a tone of great anxiety:

"Will God forgive me all that?"

"Yes, for Christ's sake he will." Then she took his hot hands and bending over where he could hear her whispered words, she told her heavenly Father of his sin and his sorrow, and begged for pardon in the name of the blessed Saviour who came on earth to forgive sins.

After this Jimmy sunk into a sweet, refreshing sleep.

When the watchful Doctor came the next time, he comforted the parents by telling them that all immediate danger was past, though he added with a mysterious smile; "I have received orders to continue my visits to my patient as long as I can do him any good, so you wont be rid of me at present."