Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished: A Tale of City Arab Life and Adventure

“Oh! you know me then?”

“No. I never saw you till to-night, but I learned your name accidentally, and I’m anxious about your soul.”

“You don’t know me,” Ned repeated, slowly, “you never saw me till to-night, yet you’re anxious about my soul! What stuff are you talkin’! ’Ow can that be?”

“Now, you have puzzled me,” said the missionary. “I cannot tell how that can be, but it is no ‘stuff’ I assure you. I think it probable, however, that your own experience may help you. Didn’t you once see a young girl whom you had never seen before, whom you didn’t know, whom you had never even heard of, yet you became desperately anxious to win her?”

Ned instantly thought of a certain woman whom he had often abused and beaten, and whose heart he had probably broken.

“Yes,” he said, “I did; but then I had falled in love wi’ her at first sight, and you can’t have falled in love wi’ me, you know.”

Ned grinned at this idea in spite of himself.

“Well, no,” replied the missionary, “not exactly. You’re not a very lovable object to look at just now. Nevertheless, I am anxious about your soul at first sight. I can’t tell how it is, but so it is.”

“Come, now,” said Ned, becoming suddenly stern. “I don’t believe in your religion, or your Bible, or your prayin’ and psalm-singin’. I tell you plainly, I’m a infidel. But if you can say anything in favour o’ your views, fire away; I’ll listen, only don’t let me have any o’ your sing-songin’ or whinin’, else I’ll kick you down the trap-door and down the stair an’ up the court and out into the street—speak out, like a man.”

“I will speak as God the Holy Spirit shall enable me,” returned the missionary, without the slightest change in tone or manner.

“Well, then, sit down,” said Ned, pointing to the only chair in the room, while he seated himself on the rickety table, which threatened to give way altogether, while the reckless man swung his right leg to and fro quite regardless of its complainings.

“Have you ever studied the Bible?” asked the missionary, somewhat abruptly.

“Well, no, of course not. I’m not a parson, but I have read a bit here and there, an’ it’s all rubbish. I don’t believe a word of it.”

“There’s a part of it,” returned the visitor, “which says that God maketh his rain to fall on the just and on the unjust. Do you not believe that?”

“Of course I do. A man can’t help believin’ that, for he sees it—it falls on houses, fields, birds and beasts as well.”

“Then you do believe a word of it?”

“Oh! come, you’re a deal too sharp. You know what I mean.”

“No,” said his visitor, quickly, “I don’t quite know what you mean. One who professes to be an infidel professes more or less intelligent disbelief in the Bible, yet you admit that you have never studied the book which you profess to disbelieve—much less, I suppose, have you studied the books which give us the evidences of its truth.”

“Don’t suppose, Mr parson, or missioner, or whatever you are,” said Ned, “that you’re goin’ to floor me wi’ your larnin’. I’m too old a bird for that. Do you suppose that I’m bound to study everything on the face o’ the earth like a lawyer before I’m entitled to say I don’t believe it. If I see that a thing don’t work well, that’s enough for me to condemn it.”

“You’re quite right there. I quite go with that line of reasoning. By their fruits shall ye know them. A man don’t usually go to a thistle to find grapes. But let me ask you, Ned, do you usually find that murderers, drunkards, burglars, thieves, and blackguards in general are students of the Bible and given to prayer and psalm-singing?”

“Ha! ha! I should rather think not,” said Ned, much tickled by the supposition.

“Then,” continued the other, “tell me, honestly, Ned, do you find that people who read God’s Word and sing His praise and ask His blessing on all they do, are generally bad fathers, and mothers, and masters, and servants, and children, and that from their ranks come the worst people in society?”

“Now, look here, Mr missioner,” cried Ned, leaping suddenly from the table, which overturned with a crash, “I’m one o’ them fellers that’s not to be floored by a puff o’ wind. I can hold my own agin most men wi’ fist or tongue. But I like fair-play in the ring or in argiment. I have not studied this matter, as you say, an’ so I won’t speak on it. But I’ll look into it, an’ if you come back here this day three weeks I’ll let you know what I think. You may trust me, for when I say a thing I mean it.”

“Will you accept a Testament, then,” said the missionary, rising and pulling one out of his pocket.

“No, I won’t,” said Ned, “I’ve got one.”

The missionary looked surprised, and hesitated.

“Don’t you believe me?” asked Ned, angrily.

“At first I did not,” was the reply, “but now that I stand before your face and look in your eyes I do believe you.”

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 God 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.

God 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 God’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 God 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?”