"But ye surely ken what it wad be to trust _me_, Mary?" continued the Sergeant.
Mary looked up and smiled. She made no reply, but was evidently puzzled by an attempt she was unconsciously making to understand the possibility of want of trust in the Sergeant. So, finding no response, he again asked, "Wad ye trust me, my wee woman?"
Mary seemed vexed, and said, "What wrang hae I dune? Ye telt me aye to ca’ you faither; I canna help; sae ye maunna be angry, for I hae nae faither but you."
"Richt! verra richt!" said the Sergeant; "but, Mary dear, wad ye trust God as weel as me?"
"What for no’?" asked the Sergeant, kindly.
"I’m awfu’ frichtened for him," said Mary.
"Why are ye frichtened for _Him_?" asked Adam.
Mary seemed to be counting the buttons on his coat.
"Because," said Mary, sorrowfully, yet encouraged by his tone, "Mrs. Craigie aye telt me He wad sen’ me to the bad place; and when I got my fit burned she said that I wad be a’ burnt thegither some day, as I was a bad lassie; and I’m sure I wasna’ doing her ony ill to mak’ her say that."
"God will never," remarked the Sergeant, reverently, "send ye to the bad place, unless ye gang yersel’."
"I hope no’, my lassie," said Adam, "for I wish you no’ to be bad, but to be good; and to trust God is the way to be good. Noo tell me, Mary, why wad ye trust me?"
"Because--jist because," said Mary, looking up to his face, "ye’re faither."
"Weel dune, Mary!" continued the Sergeant. "Noo tell me what’s the beginning o’ the Lord’s Prayer?"
"Our Faither which art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy----"
"That’ll do, Mary," interrupted Adam. "But can ye tell me noo wha’s yer Faither as weel as me?"
After a pause, Mary said, as if she had made a discovery, "Our Faither in heaven!"
"That’s a clever woman! _Faither!_ that’s God’s _Name_. And noo that ye ken his Name, ye maun trust Him faur mair than me: for He lo’es ye mair than I can do, and is aye wi’ ye; and never will forsake ye, and can aye help ye; and He has said that when faither and mither forsake you, he will tak’ ye up. That will He, my lassie!"
"But," said Mary, "my mither and faither, they tell me, dee’d wi’ fever, but didna forsake me."
"That’s true; but I mean, my bairn," said Adam, "that ye can never be an orphan lassie wi’ God as yer Faither."