"
"Of course I know Who can bring us through if He will," said Armine.
"There's the Rock. I've been asking Him all this time-—every moment-
—only I get so sleepy."
"If He will; but if He won't?"
"Then there's Paradise. And Himself and father," said Armine, still
in a dreamy tone.
"Oh, yes; that's for you! But how about a mad fellow like me? It's
so sneaking just to take to one's prayers because one's in a bad
case."
"Oh, Jock! He is always ready to hear! More ready than we to pray!"
"Now don't begin to improve the occasion," broke out Jock. "By all
the stories that ever were written, I'm the one to come to a bad end,
not you."
"Don't," said Armine, with an accent of pain that made Jock cry,
hugging him tighter. "There, never mind, Armie; I'll let you say all
you like. I don't know what made me stop you, except that I'm a
beast, and always have been one. I'd give anything not to have gone
on playing the fool all my life, so as to be able to mind this as
little as you do."
"I don't seem awake enough to mind anything much," said the little
boy, "or I should trouble more about Mother and Babie; but somehow I
can't."
"Oh!" wailed Jock, "you must! You must get out of it, Armie. Come
closer. Shove in between me and the rock.
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