Part 32 (1/2)

”But I _ain't_ ill,” returned Simkin, still declining, ”and I don't see why I shouldn't be as able as you are to carry my own weight.”

”Of course you are better able to do it than I am, in a general way,”

returned his friend, ”but I said that sometimes, you know, a fellow gives in, he don't well know why or how, an' then, of course, his comrades that are still strong are bound to help him. Here, hook on and pocket your pride. You'll have to do the same thing for me to-morrow, may-hap, when _I_ give in. And if it does come to that I'll lean heavy, I promise you.”

”You're a good fellow, Stevenson, even though you _are_ a Blue Light,”

said Simkin, taking the proffered arm.

”Perhaps it's _because_ I am a Blue Light,” returned the marine, with a laugh. ”At all events, it is certain that whatever good there may be about me at all is the result of that Light which is as free to you as to me.”

For some minutes the couple walked along in silence. At last Rattling Bill spoke.

”I wonder,” he said, ”why it is that a young and healthy fellow like me should break down sooner than you, Stevenson, for I'm both bigger and stronger--and yet, look at us new. Ain't it strange! I wonder why it is.”

”It is strange, indeed,” returned the marine quietly. ”P'r'aps the climate suits me better than you.”

”I know what you're thinkin',” said Simkin, almost testily. ”Why don't you say that _drink_ is the cause of it--straight out, like a man?”

”Because I knew you were saying that to yourself, lad, so there was no need for me to say it,” returned his friend, with a side-glance and a twinkle of the eyes.

”Well, whoever says it, it's a fact,” continued Simkin, almost sternly, ”an' I make no bones of admitting it. I have bin soakin' away, right and left, since I came to this country, in spite o' warnin's from you and other men like you, and now I feel as if all my boasted strength was goin' out at my heels.”

Stevenson was silent.

”Why don't you say `I told you so?'” asked Simkin, sharply.

”Because I _never_ say that! It only riles people; besides,” continued the marine, earnestly, ”I was asking G.o.d at the moment to enable me to answer you wisely. You see, I think it only fair to reveal some of my private thoughts to _you_, since you are making a father-confessor of _me_. But as you admit that drink has done you damage, my dear fellow, there is no need for me to say anything more on that subject. What you want now is encouragement as to the future and advice as to the present.

Shall I give you both just now, or shall I wait?”

”`Commence firing!'” replied Simkin, with a half-jesting smile.

”Well, then, as to encouragement,” said Stevenson. ”A point of vital importance with men who have gone in for drink as much as you have, is total-abstinence; and I regard it as an evidence of G.o.d's love to you that He has brought you here--”

”G.o.d's love that brought me _here_!” exclaimed the soldier in surprise.

”Well, that _is_ a view o' the case that don't seem quite plain.”

”Plain enough if you open your eyes wide enough. See here: If you was in camp now, with your present notions, and was to determine to give up drink, you'd have to face and fight two most tremendous devils. One devil is called Craving, the other is called Temptation, and all the Arabs in the Soudan rolled into one are not so terrible or so strong as these two when a man is left to fight them by himself. Now, is it not a sign of our Father's love that he has, by bringing you here, removed the devil Temptation entirely out of your way, for you can't get strong drink here for love or money. So, you see, you have only got Craving to fight, and that's encouraging, ain't it?”

”D'ye know, I believe you are not far wrong,” said Simkin, gravely; ”and it _is_ encouraging to know that Temptation's out o' the way, for I feel that the other devil has got me by the throat even now, and that it's him as has weakened me so much.”

”That's it, friend. You've got the truth by the tail now, so hold on; but, at the same time, don't be too hard on Craving. It's not _his_ fault that he's here. You have poured liquor down your throat to him daily, and cultivated his acquaintance, and helped him to increase his strength regularly, for many months--it may be for years. I don't want to be hard on you, lad, but it's of no use s.h.i.+ftin' the burden on to the wrong shoulders. It is not Craving but _you_ who are the sinner. Now, as to advice: do you really want it?”

”Well,” replied Simkin, with a ”humph!” ”it will be time enough for you to shut up when I sound the `cease firing!'”

”My advice, then, is that you go down on your knees, plead _guilty_ straight off, and ask for grace to help you in your time of need.”

”What! go down on my knees here before all them Arabs? If I did, they'd not only laugh at me, but they'd soon rouse me up with their spears.”

”I'm not so sure about that, Simkin. Arabs are accustomed to go on their own knees a good deal in public. It is chiefly Christians who, strange to say, are ashamed to be caught in that position at odd times.