“Oh Joseph,” said Little One, “I have been praying you would see that. Dear Grandfather Reuben said the very same thing to me the day he died.”
Abu looked at the brother and sister. “This God of yours is something, I must say. He certainly sounds like a God worth knowing.” “He is, Abu,” said Joseph, “He really is!”
“The trunk is down there,” she said, throwing open a door to reveal a narrow flight of stairs. “Bring it up into the kitchen where we can see better. It is heavy, and it will take all three of you to carry it.” Holding the candle high, Hans led Jacob and Gretchen down into the cellar. A huge trunk sat along in one corner. As Hans set the candle down, the door at the top of the stairs suddenly slammed shut, and all three heard the ominous sound of a heavy bolt being thrown.
Gold, flowers, gifts were falling around him. But Onesimus turned his back on them all and fled from the arena. He was gasping from loss of blood and in agony from his fracture, but this was nothing compared with the agony of his heart. What were riches and fame and glory now?
“I’ll read the Bible that Master Tyndale translates,” I said. “And ponder it.” “And ponder it,” I agreed.” “Praise the Lord,” said Uncle Jack. But there was a hollow sound to his words. I had heard if oft before. It came when he said, in his deepest voice, “Praise the Lord.” He was not, I was certain, as interested in my pondering the Bible as he was in the tidy profit the books would bring.