WHILE Osric and Christopher had been hatching their conspiracy, Elsie
and Anna had been sitting with Alice Brown under the willow by the side
of the river.
It was a beautiful place. The river ran sparkling along, and made a
cheerful, pleasant murmur against its banks. Just above the dam it was
still and glassy, and poured over the edge of the dam in a smooth, even
sheet. It was just the same, winter or summer, for it was the outlet
of quite a large lake ten or twelve miles away, and was not affected
by the dry weather. Across the river was a green bank, and above that
the steep hillside in which General Dent's vault was built. The vault
was shaded by trees, and the grass grew close to the threshold. The sun
was shining on it, and a robin was sitting singing on one of the carved
pinnacles over the door, but still Elsie thought it looked dismal.
"I shouldn't like to be buried in a vault," said she, with a shiver. "I
should rather be put in the ground, where the grass could grow over me,
and the sun shine on my grave."
"I think I should feel as thee does," replied Alice Brown; "but, after
all, dear, thee knows it does not make any great difference. When the
trumpet shall sound and the dead be raised, it will not matter much
whether we are received from a grass-covered grave, or a stone vault,
or the waters of the sea. We shall all meet the Lord in the air, to be
ever with him, and that is the great thing."
Alice Brown was the oldest girl in school—quite a grown-up young woman.
All the girls looked up to her, and she was kind to them all, but she
was especially fond of Elsie and Anna. They on their part loved Alice
dearly, told her all their troubles, and went to her for help and
advice on all occasions. When Elsie first began to hope that she really
loved her Saviour, Alice was the first person who found out what she
was thinking of, and she had been a great help to Elsie ever since, in
directing her by precept and example in the right way.
The girls sat silent for some moments, and then Elsie said suddenly:
"Alice, if you had a dear friend who kept doing wrong, and would do
wrong whatever you could say to him, and if he would not mind a word
you said, but only kept out of your way, what would you do?"
Alice knew well enough what Elsie meant, for Osric's faults were no
secret at school, whatever they might be at home. She said nothing of
him, however, but answered quietly:
"I think, Elsie, I should try to cast my burden on the Lord."
"Yes, but how?" asked Elsie. "I don't understand, Alice."
"Well, thee knows, Elsie, that we always have liberty to tell him
all our troubles in our prayers, because he himself invites us, and
promises us his help. If we see our friends going wrong, as thee says,
and cannot help it ourselves, we must just ask the Lord to take the
case in hand. We must ask him to send his Spirit to our friend, to lead
him into the right way and keep him there, and then we must try to
believe that he will do it."
"That seems to be the hard part of it," said Anna.
"It is hard sometimes," said Alice, sighing, "very hard indeed—but yet
he will give us that grace as well as any other, if we are patient and
humble in asking and in waiting for it. But, dears, it is time for the
bell to ring, and we must not be late."
"Alice, won't you pray? You know what I mean," whispered Elsie, hanging
back and squeezing her friend's hand. "I can't tell you about it, but
you know who I mean."
"Yes, my dear," replied Alice. "Thee may be sure I will."
If Miss Hilliard had noticed, she might have seen that Christopher
looked red and confused, and hesitated a moment, when she told him to
go with Osric and bring a pail of fresh water. As he rose to obey,
Christie's conscience gave him a last pull and whisper—a last draw
before it was too late. He had half a mind to ask to be excused, but he
thought how vexed Osric would be, and how he would laugh at him, and
the fear of man was stronger in his mind than the fear of doing wrong.
When Osric and Christopher came out of the school-house, it wanted a
quarter to three.
"We shall be just in time," said Osric. "Hurry, Chris! Never mind the
old pail. Leave it anywhere."
Christopher, however, hid the pail behind the corner of the fence, and
then ran on after Osric, who was already at the bridge. They went up
along the road leading to the vault, and stopped among the trees.
"There! You see we can't go into the vault," said Christopher. "There
is General Dent's man Isaac watching the door."
"Likely as not he will go away in a minute," returned Osric. "Wait a
little and see. Yes, there he goes. Now let us run and peep in before
he comes back again."
The two boys hastened up the hill and into the vault, the door of which
stood open. There was not much to see, after all. There were no coffins
standing about, as Osric had expected. In truth, the coffins were
placed in niches in the wall, and there built up, and a marble slab or
tablet placed over the spot to show who was buried there. Christopher
and Osric peeped about trying to read the inscriptions on these tablets.
"Do you suppose the coffins are in behind the wall or under the floor?"
asked Christopher.
"I suppose they are in behind these marble slabs," replied Osric, in a
tone of disappointment. "I thought they would be lying on shelves or on
the ground, so that we could see them. How cold it is in here, isn't
it?"
"I suppose that is because the vault is under ground. See here,
Ozzy—here is the old general's stone. Born 1750. More than a hundred
years ago."
"He was an old man when he died, too," said Osric. "I can just remember
him. Here is the general's youngest sister. Aged twelve—just as old as
I am, and she died so long ago—1802."
"I wonder if she has been in heaven all that time?" said Christopher,
who was a thoughtful child. "I wonder whether the general will know
her when he gets there, too? Oh dear! I wish I hadn't come here!"
said Christopher, struck with sudden remorse. "Suppose we should die
suddenly, Ozzy?"
"Now, Christy Parsons, if you begin whining, I will never speak to you
again as long as I live!" said Osric, angrily. "I should never have
come, if you hadn't been so ready to come with me, and now you begin
blaming me."
"I didn't blame you, either!" returned Christopher, greatly hurt.
"I only said, What if we should die suddenly? And I didn't make you
come, either, you know. I never should have thought of running away
from school, if you hadn't coaxed me, and I mean to go right back this
minute and tell Miss Hilliard I am sorry and I won't do so again."
"And so get punished and kept after school, and have all the boys laugh
at you for a tattle-tale and a girl-boy," said Osric, "and just as
likely as not, have General Dent taking you up and putting you into
jail for trespass. They do put people into jail for trespass, I know,
and of course trespassing in a vault would be worse than any other."
As the two boys were wrangling at the far end of the vault, they heard
outside a noise of horses' feet and wheels and subdued voices. The
funeral train had come up, and they had not seen it, after all.
"We can't get out now, anyhow," said Osric. "We shall have to wait till
they bring in the coffin, and then we can see that, at any rate, and
slip out with the rest of the people."
"But somebody will be sure to see us," said Christopher, on whose mind
the idea of going to jail for trespass had taken a strong hold. "I
don't see how we can ever get out at all."
"Hush, can't you?" returned Osric, giving him a pinch. "Somebody will
hear you. Just you do as I do. There! They are saying the prayers."
"In the midst of life, we are in death: of whom may we seek for succour
but of thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased? Yet,
O Lord most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and merciful Saviour,
deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death!"
How solemn the words sounded! Christopher felt as if they were meant
for him—as if he were being buried instead of Miss Lilla. He burst out
crying in spite of himself, and of Osric's shakes and pinches.
"Do be still, you great baby! I never saw such a dunce in my life! I
never will go anywhere with you again!"
"I can't help it!" sobbed Christopher. "I feel so bad;" and he withdrew
from Osric's grasp to the very farthest end of the vault, which was
quite spacious, and leaning his head against the damp wall, he cried as
if his heart would break.
Meantime, the service was concluded; the white and glistening coffin,
covered with flowers, was brought in and set down on the floor. Osric
had his wits about him, and as the bearers withdrew, he slipped out
with them without being noticed, and hid in a thick bush which grew
close to the door. There were no pall-bearers dressed in white, no
plumes of white feathers or white velvet pall. There were no grand
carriages from Hobartown, but only Mr. Parmalee's own, with General
Dent's, Doctor Henry's, and a few others from the Springs. It was no
such great show, after all.
Osric was so busy noticing these things that he never thought of
Christopher. There was some confusion among the carriages at going
away: one was upset, and the horses were frightened. Osric waited
till all was quiet and every one had gone. Then he came out and ran
towards the school-house. He did not see any one, and thought with some
vexation that recess was over, and he should be caught, after all. What
was his astonishment, on arriving within sight of the school-house, to
see the door and windows closed, and nobody about but Elsie, who as
soon as she saw him, came running along the road to meet him.
"Why, Ozzy, where have you been?" she exclaimed. "School has been out
almost an hour, and it is five o'clock. Where is Christy?"
"He has gone home long ago," said Osric, but as he spoke his heart
sank, and he turned as pale as death, for it struck him all at once
like a blow, that he had left Christopher locked up in the burial-vault.