“You’re just as straight and plucky as Master Dudley, and you’ll grow up a big, strong man, I dare say,” said Hob, sympathetically.

“Old Principle says you may be a maker, a mender, or a breaker in your life.  I want to be a maker.  And I should like to find a country and make it into a nice big town.  I want to do something big.  I ask God every day to let me find something to do.”

“Do you believe in—­in God?” asked Rob, rather sheepishly.

“Of course I do; what do you mean?  Don’t you?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know much about Him, only you often talk as if you’re—­well quite friends with Him, and I’ve wondered at it.”

Roy brought down his gaze from the hilltops to his companion’s face with grave interest.

“I’ve known God since I was a baby,” he said.  “I don’t remember when I didn’t know Him.  Nurse used to talk to me when I was very small, and when my father was dying he called me to him, and said,—­’Fitz Roy!  Serve God first, then your Queen, and then your fellow men!’ I’ve always remembered it, only you know we don’t talk about these things, and I’ve only told Dudley.  I’m trying to serve God—­you don’t want to be very strong to do that; but I’m longing to serve the Queen, and when Mr. Selby talked to us of opportunities for doing good to all men I’ve been longing to find them ever since.  Don’t you know much about God, Rob?”

Rob shook his head.  “I used to larn He made the world and me, and I know He’ll punish the wicked, but I’ve never tried to serve Him, and—­and I don’t think as how I care about it.”

“P’raps you don’t know about Jesus Christ?” asked Roy, solemnly.

“Well, yes, I used to larn about Him when I was a kid at the Sunday-school.  I know He came into the world to save people, but I never rightly understood why, nor what difference it makes.”

“I’ll be able to tell you that.  If He hadn’t died, I suppose I shouldn’t have cared about serving God because it would have been no use—­nothing would have been any use, for we should all have had to go to hell when we died, to punish us for our sins.  We could never have got to heaven at all.”

“If we had been very good I reckon we could,” put in Rob, knitting his brows with this aspect of the subject.

“But you see the Bible says we can’t be good, not one of us—­the devil won’t let us.”

“But there are good people in the world.”

“You interrupt so,” said Roy, a little impatiently.  “I was going to tell you.  Jesus died to let God be able to forgive us and take us to heaven.  It’s rather difficult to explain, but God punished Him instead of us, do you see?  So now we can all go to heaven, and the reason we try to be good is to please Jesus because He has loved us, and the reason we are able to be good is because Jesus helps us to be, and He can fight the devil better than we can.  There, I think I’ve told you it right.  Now shall we go on with the reading?”