MEANTIME, there was a great wonder what could have become of
Christopher.
Mrs. Parsons waited till supper-time without much alarm. She thought
Christopher had perhaps stopped to play with the children who lived
near the school-house—a thing he sometimes did, though his mother had
forbidden it—but when the sun was near setting, and still he did not
come, she grew uneasy and went over to her brother-in-law's house to
see if David knew anything about his cousin. She met David himself at
the gate, apparently just come home.
"I have not been in school this afternoon," said he, in answer to
her eager question. "Father had an errand he wanted done over at
Shortsville (which was another little village on the outlet about five
miles away), and I saw a man from there down at the mill, so I just got
Miss Hilliard to excuse me, and rode over with him. I came back to the
Springs on the cars, and walked the rest of the way. The last I saw of
Christopher, he and Osric Dennison were talking together over Osric's
dinner."
"It is very strange," said Mrs. Parsons. "Christy never stays so late."
"I don't exactly see what could happen to him between here and the
village," said David. "He always comes by the road when he is alone,
and even if he had started to come through the woods, the path is
perfectly plain. To be sure, he might go off after flowers or some such
nonsense. I'll tell you what, auntie, I will just get a bite of supper,
and then, if father is willing, I will go back to the village and look
him up. Maybe he has gone home with some of the boys, and such young
ones never know what time it is, you know."
"It will be making you a great deal of trouble after your long walk,"
said poor Mrs. Parsons, "but I should be very much obliged to you,
David. I can't help feeling very uneasy."
Mr. Ezra Parsons made no objection to David's going to look for his
cousin, but his mother rather demurred.
"You have had a long walk already, and you are as tired as you can be.
I dare say the young one will turn up all right. Celia is just like a
hen with one chicken."
"Well, that's just what she is,—a hen with one chicken!" said Mr.
Parsons, smiling. "She is a widow, you know, and Christy is all she has
in the world. If she had such a brood as you, mother, she would be more
reasonable."
David laughed, and his mother smiled also, for she knew very well that
she had been just as anxious about every one of her seven sons as Mrs.
Celia was about her one.
"After all, I should feel uneasy, if Harry were out of the way. Chris
is a delicate boy, and, as you say, he is all she has. I don't mind if
David don't, I'm sure, but the child ought to know better than to stay
so."
"He does know better," returned David. "However, Chris is a pretty good
boy in general, that I will say for him. The worst thing about him is,
that he is so easily led away. The boys can make him do anything only
by laughing at and teasing him. I hope they have not coaxed him to go
in swimming, or any such thing. I tell you what, ma, I begin to feel
rather uneasy. I guess I will start off now, without waiting for my
supper. I'll take the lantern and go through the woods."
"What time will you be back?"
"I can't tell. If I can't hear of him in the village, nor find him in
the woods, I will go out to Mr. Dennison's. He may have gone home with
Osric, though I don't think it likely."
"If you don't come back in an hour, I will hitch up and come down to
the village myself," said Mr. Parsons. "Though I dare say, the little
scamp is as comfortable as can be, somewhere or other. He will deserve
a thrashing for making so much trouble."
By this time, David had the bright kerosene lantern trimmed and
lighted, and was ready to set out on his expedition. His mother kept
him waiting while she filled his pockets with cakes.
She was not one of those mothers who pet their children when they are
little, and turn them off like a brood of last month's chickens as soon
as a younger one comes along. When her biggest boy, who was a rising
lawyer in the city, came home for a visit, he came to his mother for
his good-night and good-morning kiss as regularly as little Harry, who
was only seven years old.
David kissed his mother, and whistling for his dog Sandy, a beautiful
and intelligent Scotch colly, he set out on his expedition. Mrs. Celia
Parsons was standing at her gate looking down the road.
"Keep up good courage, auntie," said David, cheerfully. "I hope to
bring him home all right."
David spoke encouragingly, but in his heart he felt rather uneasy.
He crossed a field, and turned into a path which formed his usual
short-cut to the village. This path led through a corner of the great
woods mentioned in the first chapter of this story, and was a favourite
with all the Parsons boys, though Christopher did not usually dare to
go or come that way unless in his cousin's company. The woods were
very dark and thick, and swampy in places, and were haunted by numbers
of owls, which often made themselves heard even in daylight. Birds
sung and flitted there which were heard nowhere else, and whose voices
sounded shrill and strange, and there was an awful tradition that
somewhere in the depths of the forest, among the tangled bushes, there
was or had been a wild cat's den, which said wild cat had been heard
to screech by sundry people "just like a cat owl," which it probably
was. The older boys were fond of these woods, and explored them in
every direction to find rare wild flowers, ferns, and mosses for Miss
Hilliard, who was a great botanist, but the younger children were
rather afraid of them.
David walked along, swinging his lantern on every side, peering into
the woods, and now and then giving a peculiar shrill whistle or calling
aloud. Sandy, the dog, went sniffing at the path, now and then making
a short excursion into the bushes. No sign of Christopher was seen or
heard, as may be supposed. Arrived at the village, David made inquiries
of every one he thought likely to know anything about the matter. He
soon learned from some of the children that Christopher had gone with
Osric for a pail of water just before recess, and that neither of them
had returned to school.
"Run away to see the funeral, I dare say," said David to himself. "If I
don't give it to Chris, when I catch him! I wonder whether I had better
go out to Dennison's or wait a little longer? There's Jeduthun Cooke. I
will ask him."
Jeduthun had seen nothing of the boys. He and Keziah had been expressly
invited to attend Miss Lilla's funeral from the house, and had borrowed
a horse and buggy to drive over to the Springs. He had not seen the
boys in the crowd round the door of the vault, nor afterwards, and he
did not think they had been at the funeral.
At this moment, Mr. Parsons came up in his buggy. He had driven over by
the road, keeping a sharp lookout on every side, but—as the reader need
hardly be told—had seen nothing of the child. He heard David's story
with some uneasiness. "After all, he may be out at Squire Dennison's
all the time. We had better drive out there and see."
Osric had walked home with Elsie in a very unenviable and uncomfortable
frame of mind. He would give no account of himself to Elsie, and coolly
told her to mind her business.
"Just as if you were my master," said he. "I dare say you will tell
mother of me?"
"I shall have to tell her what made me so late," said Elsie. "She will
be sure to ask me, and I shall have to tell her the truth."
"Oh yes! You are mighty particular about the truth all at once," said
Osric, scornfully. "You were not so very careful this morning. You just
as good as told sister a lie about that book, and you know you did. So!"
"I didn't, either," said Elsie, almost crying.
"You let her think what wasn't true, and that is just the same,"
persisted Osric. "Mother always says so, and you very often do."
"If I did, it was for your sake, Ozzy," returned Elsie. "I never meant
to tell a lie, only to keep you from being blamed. And I do wish you
would tell mother the truth about your running away from school. She
will be sure to find out some way or other, and she will be a great
deal more angry."
"You mind your business," was all Ozzy would say.
As it happened, the children were not very closely questioned. A
houseful of company had arrived in the course of the afternoon, and
Mrs. Dennison had her hands full.
She easily accepted Osric's excuse that Miss Hilliard had kept the
whole arithmetic class after school, and that Elsie had waited for
him, for even Osric hesitated about involving Elsie in a scrape
unnecessarily.
"You must be more careful another time," said she. "Elsie, you did
not do wrong in waiting for your brother, so you need not look so
sorrowful. It was nothing worse than an error in judgment, and you
could not know that I needed you. Run and put on your clean pink frock,
and then set the table."
Elsie obeyed, feeling more unhappy than she had ever done in all her
life. She knew that by her silence, she made herself a party to Osric's
lie, and a lie was dreadful to Elsie. Still, she could not bear to
betray her brother. Even the beautiful new book which her aunt had
brought her, could not divert her attention from her troubles, and
every one noticed how quiet and sober she was.
"Is Elsie always so sedate?" asked her aunt.
"She is always a quiet child," replied her mother. "Elsie is one of
those who always have to carry other people's burdens, and I suspect
she feels Osric's being kept after school far more than he does. She is
so good herself that she rarely has any faults of her own to repent of,
and she makes it up by repenting of her brother's."
Elsie overheard these words, and she could bear her trouble no longer.
She ran up to her room, and throwing herself down on her knees beside
the bed, she burst into tears and cried as if her heart would break.
Presently, Osric heard her, and came into the room.
"Do be still," said he, angrily. "What do you make such a fuss for?
Nobody has said anything to you."
"I can't help it, Ozzy," said Elsie, between her sobs. "I feel so
wicked."
"Pshaw! You are always making a fuss about something," returned
Osric, who felt uneasy himself, and as usual felt a strong desire to
revenge that uneasiness on somebody. "You just spoil all the comfort
of my life, Elsie Dennison, and especially since you've got to be so
wonderful pious. I wish you were not my sister at all. You do nothing
but plague me all the time."
"Oh, Ozzy, how can you say so?" exclaimed Elsie, in a new burst of
grief.
"Because I feel so," answered Osric. "I almost hate you, Elsie
Dennison, so there!" And with these wicked words, Osric quitted
the room and went to his own, which was close by. He was very
uncomfortable; for the more he thought about it, the more he felt that
he had left Christopher shut up in the vault. He tried to think that
somebody would be sure to let him out, but it was not very pleasant to
think of poor Christopher confined in that dismal place, and crying for
his mother, perhaps frightened to death by the darkness and loneliness:
for Osric had heard of such things.
Then, if Christopher should get out alive, he would be sure to tell,
and what would his father say? He had been threatened with severe
punishment the next time he told a lie, and he knew that his father was
a man of his word. Osric was frightened at himself when he found he was
actually hoping Christopher might never come out alive. Oh no, he did
not mean that, only he wished he had never gone to see the funeral. It
was all Christopher's fault, anyway. Osric would never have gone but
for him.
Presently he heard a buggy drive up, and a few minutes afterwards his
father called him from the foot of the stairs: "Osric! Come down here,
directly!"
"I am just going to bed," replied Osric, beginning to undress as fast
as possible. "I was all undressed."
"Dress yourself, then, and come down. I want you."
There was nothing for it but to obey. Osric put on his clothes again,
and went down to the kitchen, where he found his father and mother,
with Mr. Parsons and David.
"Come here, Osric," said his mother. "Mr. Parsons wants to speak to
you."
"Don't be afraid, now, but tell me the exact truth," said Mr. Parsons.
"Where did you and Christopher go when you were sent after water?"
"We didn't go anywhere," said Osric. "Only the school-house pump
wouldn't work, somehow, and we went to Mr. Peters, and he wouldn't let
us have any, and so we went up to the tavern."
[Illustration: The Dark Night.
Where he found his father and mother
with Mr. Parsons and David.]
"Well, and what then? Why did you not come back to school at once,
instead of staying out all the afternoon?"
"We did go back as soon as we could," replied Osric.
"But, Ozzy, Miss Hilliard and all the children say that you did not
come back at all," said David. "Miss Hilliard says she has never seen
you since she sent you for the water before the girls' recess."
"Call Elsie," said Mr. Dennison. "She will tell the truth, if she is
asked, I am sure."
Elsie was called, and came down, her eyes red with crying. "Now, Elsie,
tell us the exact truth," said her father, drawing her towards him.
"Did Osric and Christopher go out after water before recess?"
Once being asked a straightforward question, Elsie had no hesitation in
answering. She checked her tears, and replied plainly, "Yes, father."
"And when did they come back?"
Osric looked threateningly at Elsie, but she did not hesitate. She had
made up her mind as to her duty, and was determined to do it.
"They did not come back at all, father. They had not come when school
was out, and I waited ever so long for Ozzy after the school-house was
locked up."
"Now, Osric, you must tell us the truth," said Mr. Parsons, firmly but
kindly. "Christopher is missing and cannot be found, and his mother is
very much distressed about him."
At first, Osric would say nothing, but finally, he admitted that he and
Christopher had hid among the willows on the bank of the river to see
the funeral pass, that they had watched it across the river, and then
Christopher said his head ached, and he would go home.
"Which way did he go?"
"Through the woods."
"You are sure you did not go in swimming?" said Mr. Parsons.
"No," returned Osric, doggedly.
"Quite sure?"
"No, we didn't. We talked about it, but Christopher was afraid, and
wouldn't go."
"But where were you all the time, Osric?" asked his father. "You must
have been gone from the school-house almost two hours, according to
Elsie's account."
"I wasn't gone near so long," said Osric, reckless of consequences, and
with a burning desire to be revenged on Elsie. "I got back just after
school was out. I walked a little way with Christy, and then came right
back to the school-house. Elsie was playing with some girls on the
meeting-house steps, and she would not come for ever so long."
"Why, Ozzy!" exclaimed Elsie, perfectly aghast at this new falsehood.
"Well, you were, and you know it! Everybody thinks you are so good, and
you tell more lies than any girl I know. You made me wait ever so long,
and you wouldn't come at all till I said I'd tell mother."
"That does not agree very well with the story you told me when you
first came home—that Miss Hilliard had kept you after school, and that
Elsie waited for you," said his mother. "Which are we to believe?"
Osric was silent. He had forgotten that story. It is inconvenient for
liars to have short memories.
"You may ask any of the girls about it, mother," said Elsie.
"Now, Osric, tell us the exact truth, for it is very important that we
should know," said Mr. Parsons. "Where did you part from Christopher?"
"In the woods," replied Osric.
"Where in the woods?"
"By a great pine stump. He wanted me to go all the way with him; and I
wouldn't;" and to this story Osric doggedly adhered.
"That must have been about half-past four, as nearly as we can get at
it," said David. "What can have become of the child, father?"
"I cannot guess," replied his father; "but we must lose no time in
seeking for him. There is a storm threatening, and if Christopher is
lost in the woods, he may die of fright, if of nothing else, before
morning. We must go back to the village, turn out the men, and search
the woods. You are sure Christopher did not go in swimming?"
"He didn't while he was with me, that's all I know," said Osric,
sullenly.
Mr. Parsons and David got into the buggy and drove rapidly towards the
village. Mr. Dennison tried to get something more out of Osric, but in
vain. At last, wearied out with his obstinacy, he punished him severely
and sent him to bed.
Mrs. Dennison reproved Elsie for not telling the truth about the reason
of her delay.
"I know it was naughty," sobbed Elsie. "I have felt so bad about it
ever since, but I didn't know what to do."
"You may always know what to do when anybody, no matter who, tries to
make you a sharer in any deceit," said her mother, "You do Osric harm
instead of good, by always trying to cover up his faults. It is much
better that he should be found out and punished. I do not mean that you
are always to be telling of him, but you should never allow yourself
to be drawn in by him to do what you know to be wrong. Now go to bed,
and when you say your prayers, don't forget to ask forgiveness both for
yourself and your brother, and pray that poor Osric may see his sin and
repent of it."
There was no danger of Elsie's forgetting. She remembered what Alice
had said about casting her burden on the Lord, and she tried to do
it with all her heart. Then feeling very much humbled, but very much
comforted, she went to bed, and was soon fast asleep.
Meantime, all the men in the little village were out searching for
Christopher. One party explored the woods, and another searched the
banks of the stream up and down. David was with the party, and about
a quarter of a mile above the school-house, he found a handkerchief
belonging to his little cousin. David groaned at the sight, and hid his
face in his hands.
"I am afraid he did go in swimming, after all, and if he did, this is
all we shall ever see of him," said he.
"But Osric says he started for home through the woods," said one of the
large boys.
"Osric didn't tell the truth," replied David. "I don't know what the
truth is, but I know he didn't tell it. Oh, poor Aunt Celia!"
"Don't give up," said John Lee. "This handkerchief may have been left
here before. You know the little boys like to play up and down the
creek. Let us go back and see if any news has come from the woods. My!
What a flash that was! I am afraid we are going to have a great storm.
It's not a good night to be out in."
"The wind is rising too," said David. "Oh what will become of that poor
little child?"
"We'll give that Osric a lesson, anyhow!" said John Lee. "The little
rascal! He is always in some mischief or other! Won't he catch it from
Miss Hilliard, though?"
A furious gust of wind now came tearing down the valley, bending the
trees and snapping the branches, and the lightning flashed incessantly
on every side. The scouting-party hastened to get out of the woods as
quickly as possible. It was evident, even to David, that nothing could
be done till the storm was over.
Jeduthun Cooke had been one of the most active of the scouters, and
he came home wearied and wet enough, to find that Keziah had provided
him with a hot supper, and laid out dry clothes all ready for him. He
changed his wet garments, drank a cup of coffee, and then threw himself
on the bed to catch a little sleep. He had not slept, as it seemed to
him, more than five minutes, when he was wakened by Keziah:
"'Duthun! I say, 'Duthun! Nobody has thought of looking in the vault!"
Jeduthun was on his feet, wide awake, in an instant.
"The vault!" he exclaimed. "What's gone and put that in your head,
Kissy?"
"I dunno," replied Kissy. "I got up to see if the storm was over, and
it come to me all at once."
"But Osric says they did not go to the funeral, and I'm sure I didn't
see 'em there. To be sure, David Parsons mistrusted all the time that
Osric didn't tell the truth, but then I should think somebody would
have seen them."
"I can't help that," said Kissy, positively. "I'm just as sure as I can
be, that that poor child is in General Dent's vault this very minute. I
feel that for sure and certain."
When Kissy felt things "for sure and certain," there was no use in
arguing with her, as Jeduthun knew from long experience. Moreover, he
was struck with the idea himself.
"It don't seem very likely, and yet it is just possible," said he. "If
I had the key, I'd go up there this minute. Come to think of it, I
have got it, or what's as good," he exclaimed, starting up again. "Our
grainery key fits the vault-lock. I know, because the old general said
so one day when he was down at the mill. He saw me have the key, and
said it looked like his'n, and he and Mr. Antis tried it, and it just
fitted. Put on your rubbers, Kissy, and we'll go and see, anyhow. The
storm's over now."
Kissy lost no time in getting ready, but she detained her husband while
she put some wood in her stove and set on a kettleful of water.
"If he's been in that damp, cold place all night, he'll be about
chilled through," she explained to her husband. "The first thing to do,
will be to put him in a warm bed and give him hot tea."
"It takes women-folks to think of everything all in a minute," said
Jeduthun, admiring his wife's talents as usual; "but suppose the young
one isn't there, after all?"
"There ain't never no harm done by getting things ready," returned
Keziah, who always liked to make her sentences as strong as possible.
"Besides, he is there! I'm just as sure as if I saw him this minute.
Come on."
But by this time, succour was approaching Christopher from another
quarter. Elsie, who had gone to bed and to sleep early, was wakened
by the lightning, which flashed sharply in at her uncurtained window.
Elsie was not afraid of lightning. She lay quietly watching the flashes
and listening to the rapidly approaching thunder, wondering where
Christopher could be, and whether they had found him.
Elsie felt very unhappy both on her own account and her brother's. She
was sorry to have Osric disgraced and punished, but she was grieved
above all that he had been so wicked. Elsie did not believe Osric's
story any more than David did. As she thought the matter over, she
remembered that Osric had come, not from the direction of the woods,
but exactly the other way, from the village. She did not believe
that Christopher would undertake to go home alone through the woods,
especially as the old story of the wild cat had been revived and talked
over only the day before. As she lay pondering over these matters,
she was started by a tremendous flash and roar coming, as it seemed,
at the same moment, and then she heard Osric, whose room was next her
own, burst into a loud fit of crying. Forgetful of all his unkindness,
Elsie jumped out of bed at once and went to her brother, whom she found
burying his head under the bedclothes and crying bitterly.
"What's the matter, Ozzy?" said she, sitting down on the bed. "Are you
afraid?"
"Yes," sobbed Osric. "The house will be struck; I know it will."
"But, Ozzy, you know that God can take care of us, even if the house is
struck. Don't you know the pretty verse we learned last Sunday?—
"'Ye winds of heaven, your force combine;
Without His high behest
Ye cannot in the mountain-pine
Disturb the sparrow's nest!'
"He will take care of us, if we ask him."
"He won't take care of me," sobbed Osric, "I have been so wicked. You
don't know how wicked I have been, Elsie. I am sorry I told such a lie
about you."
"Never mind me," said Elsie. "I am sorry you told the lie, because that
was wicked, but I don't mind about myself. But, Ozzy, if you have not
told the truth about Christopher, do tell it now!"
"Oh what a flash!" exclaimed Osric, shrinking once more. "It seemed to
come right into the window."
"It is very near," said Elsie.
"There, again! Oh, the house will be struck, I know it will, and we
shall all be killed, and what will become of Christopher?"
"Christopher!" exclaimed Elsie, catching at the words. "Oh, Ozzy, do
you know where he is? Do tell the truth, if you know. Just think how
his poor mother is feeling about him! Do tell!"
"I am afraid father will punish me again," said Osric, shrinking. "Oh
dear! What shall I do?"
"Oh, Ozzy, don't be such a coward," said Elsie, disgusted in spite
of herself. "Suppose he does? Wouldn't you rather be punished, even,
than to have poor Christopher out in this storm, and perhaps dying of
fright? Just think! If he dies in consequence of your keeping back the
truth, you will be the cause of his death. Come, do tell me! Where did
you and Christopher go?"
"We went to the funeral," said Osric, reluctantly, at last. "We watched
till Isaac went away, and then hid in the vault to see the coffin. Then
Chris was scared, and cried, and went and hid in the farther end of the
vault, and I slipped out with the bearers, and hid in a bush till the
people went away, and—and—"
"But didn't Christopher come out?" asked Elsie, struck with horror.
"I don't know whether he did or not. I never saw him. I did not think
anything about him, till you asked where he was. Oh, Elsie, where are
you going?" cried Osric as Elsie rose and went towards the door. "Don't
go away and leave me alone! Suppose the lightning should strike me!"
"I can't help it, Ozzy. I must tell father this minute, so that he
can know what to do. And if you are afraid, just think what poor
Christopher must be. How would you feel if you were shut up in the
burial-vault, instead of being safe at home? The best thing you can do
is to get up and come and tell father yourself."
"Oh, I can't! I durstn't!" cried Osric. "Elsie, do come back! Only wait
till morning, and I will tell him."
Osric cried and pleaded, but in vain. Elsie had had enough of
concealments, and she felt how much might depend on the little boy's
having timely assistance. She went down to her father's room and told
him the story. Mr. Dennison came up and questioned Osric himself,
and felt convinced that Elsie's suspicions were correct, and that
Christopher had been left in the vault.
As soon as the storm abated, he harnessed his horse, drove down to the
village as fast as possible, and seeing a light in Jeduthun's cottage,
he went straight to his door, and arrived there just as Jeduthun and
Kissy came out.
"There!" said Jeduthun, as soon as he heard the story. "Kissy, she
waked me up half an hour ago. She felt it for 'sure and certain' that
Christopher was in there, and started me out to see."
"How shall we get in?" asked Mr. Dennison.
Jeduthun explained that he had a key which would unlock the vault.
"You'd better hitch the horse under the shed," said he. "That road
always washes badly with such a heavy rain, and we shall get on faster
a-foot."
"Seeing you've got company, I'll stay at home and have everything
ready," said Kissy. "You had better bring him right here the first
thing. I'm as sure you will find him, as if I see him this minute."
Three or four minutes brought the two men to the door of the vault.
Jeduthun unlocked it without difficulty, and entered, holding up his
lantern. The next moment he uttered a suppressed exclamation:
"Here he is, sure enough! Softly, squire! 'Twon't do to wake him too
sudden. See how he lies, poor lamb! Tired himself out worrying and
crying, I suppose."
Jeduthun knelt down and took the child's hand, saying gently:
"Why, Christie, what brought you here?"
But the next moment, he looked up, pale as ashes, and said in a half
whisper, "Squire, we're too late. I'm dreadful afraid he's dead."
"Dead! He can't be," exclaimed Mr. Dennison, hardly knowing what he
said. "What could kill him?"
"Fright, as likely as anything," replied Jeduthun. "But we won't give
up hope," he added as he raised Christopher's apparently lifeless body
gently in his arms. "Maybe there is life in him yet. Anyhow, we will
give him a chance."
In a few minutes, Christopher was undressed and laid in a warm bed,
while Kissy surrounded him with hot-water bottles and rubbed him
vigorously with her strong hands. David Parsons, abroad at the first
dawn, had seen Mr. Dennison and Jeduthun issue from the vault with the
child, and was at the cottage as soon as they. Mr. Dennison went for
the doctor, though there seemed little hope of his doing any good, and
Mr. Parsons rode in the other direction to fetch his sister-in-law.
Before the poor mother arrived, Christopher showed signs of returning
life, but he knew no one, and it was hard to rouse him sufficiently to
swallow the hot drinks that Kissy gave him.
Mrs. Parsons would have taken her son home, but the doctor declared
that he must not be moved, since everything depended on the most
perfect quietness.
When Christopher began to recover his strength, he showed such signs of
terror, that Doctor Henry feared for his reason. He knew no one about
him, not even his mother,—she, poor woman! was almost overcome,—but
kept calling for Osric, and begging him not to go away and leave him
alone.
"Suppose I should bring my son over to see him?" said Mr. Dennison to
the doctor.
"It can do no harm, that is certain," said Doctor Henry, "and it may be
good for him, if not for Christopher."
Osric cried, and begged to be allowed to stay at home at first, but he
yielded when his father represented to him that he might perhaps save
Christopher's life by going to see him. He shrank back in the carriage
as they drove through the village, and burst out crying at the sight of
Mrs. Parsons's pale face and the sound of Christopher's voice from the
room beyond.
"Listen to me, Osric," said Mrs. Parsons, sitting down and drawing
Osric towards her. "I am not going to reproach you. I am sure your
own conscience does that. We want you to go in and speak gently to
Christopher, and try to quiet him and make him sleep. But to do this
you must be very quiet yourself—not cry or be afraid. Will you try?"
"Yes, ma'am," answered Osric, choking down his sobs. "Oh, Mrs. Parsons,
I am so sorry that I led Christopher off!"
"I hope you are, my poor boy! Now see what you can do to repair your
fault."
The moment Christopher's eyes fell on Osric, he stretched out his hand
to him.
"Oh, Ozzy, I knew you wouldn't leave me all alone to die. But what made
you stay so long?"
"Never mind that now, Christopher," said his mother. "You see he has
come back."
"And you won't leave me again, will you?" continued Christopher,
holding Osric's hand tightly in his own. "It was very wicked to tell a
lie and run away from school, but we will confess our sins and say our
prayers, and when the angels come to take Miss Lilla to heaven, perhaps
they will let us out if we ask them. Don't you believe they will, Ozzy?"
Osric could not bear these words, and he burst into tears, and hid
his face on the pillow. His tears seemed to have a quieting effect on
Christopher, who said, soothingly, "There! Don't cry. Maybe we shall
get out, after all. I wish you could sing, Ozzy. It would make the time
pass quicker. I would, but my voice seems all gone away."
Jeduthun looked inquiringly at the doctor, who nodded in return, and
he began to sing, very softly and gently, the old lulling tune of
Amsterdam. Christopher listened with evident pleasure. His eyelids
presently began to droop, and at last he fell asleep, holding fast to
Osric's hand.
"That is worth everything," whispered the doctor. "I hope he will have
a good sleep, and wake up himself. Some of you must watch and keep
everything quiet outside. Don't try to draw your hand away, Osric. Sit
quite still, and, Kissy, have some broth ready to give him, the moment
he wakes. I will come over again towards evening, and see how he gets
on."
"Don't you think he will live, doctor?" whispered Osric.
"I don't know, my boy. I can tell better when he wakes. He has had a
great shock, and we cannot foresee the effects."
As Osric sat by Christopher's bed through the long morning hours, he
thought more earnestly than he had ever done before in all his life.
He saw how mean and wicked he had been—how selfish and cowardly. He
remembered how he had treated his kind little sister the night before,
and how he had lied about her. Somehow or other, Osric had always been
in the habit of thinking himself rather a good boy, because he did not
swear and use bad words, like some of the boys, or fly into a passion
at every little thing, like Tom Badger, or sulk, like his brother. But
now he saw himself in some degree as he really was, and he was ashamed
and disgusted at the sight.
"Oh how mean I have been!" he said to himself. "I wonder if I ever
could be as good as Elsie, if I were to try? Perhaps I could if I were
to pray and read the Bible as she does. I will try, anyway;" and Osric
made a good beginning by laying his head down, confessing his sins
to his heavenly Father, and begging for forgiveness and help for his
Redeemer's sake.
When Christopher awoke, he was perfectly sensible, but so weak that
the doctor thought he would hardly live through the night. He rallied
a little towards morning, but for many days, he hovered between life
and death, sometimes insensible, at other times deranged and thinking
himself again in the burial-vault.
At these times, no one could quiet him like Osric. Osric stayed at
Jeduthun's cottage day and night, always at the sick boy's call, never
seeming to care for rest or amusement, or anything else, but waiting on
Christopher. These days, dreary and anxious as they were, proved the
turning-point in Osric Dennison's life. He had many long and profitable
talks with Jeduthun and Mrs. Parsons, and learned a great deal. His
devotion to his friend was of service to him in another way. Even
David, who had thought at first that he never would forgive Osric, felt
his heart soften towards him as he saw how thin and pale Ozzy grew day
by day, and how careful he was never to go out of calling distance from
the cottage, lest Christopher should want him.
David told the story to the other boys, and they all agreed that when
Osric came among them once more, they would never reproach him with his
faults, but would try and help him to be a good boy.
At last, Christopher was so much better, that the doctor said that he
could be taken home. He begged hard that Osric might go with him, and
Mr. Dennison consented, thinking justly that the lesson his son was
learning was worth more to him than any he would lose in school. Osric
stayed all summer at Mrs. Parsons's, who became much attached to him.
He on his part, was never weary of waiting on her, and Mr. Ezra Parsons
said one day that his sister had lost one son to find two.
The society of the Parsons boys was of great benefit to Osric. They
were brave, truthful, manly lads, good both at work and play, and they
did their best to make a man of him. Every one noticed the improvement
when Osric went back to school in the winter, and no one rejoiced in it
more than Elsie.
Children, when any one tries to make you do wrong by laughing at or
threatening you, remember that "the fear of man bringeth a snare,"
while "the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom," and that no man can
really hurt you while you put your trust in him.
THE END.