CAUGHT!
"GOOD-NIGHT, my boy."
"Good-night, Mr. Jonathan," said Robin as he turned the corner by the
lodge to go towards his home the following evening.
The old man shaded his eyes with his hand as he watched the retreating
figure for some distance, until a bend in the lane hid him from view,
then said aloud as he entered his house, "There is something wrong with
the lad, and I cannot come at it; he is no more like the same boy he
was three months ago than a fresh rose is like the withered one I have
just thrown away. What can it be? Bad companions, perhaps; but I never
see him about with any of the town lads. I wonder if his mother notices
the difference."
Jonathan was about to seat himself in his big arm-chair for a good
rest, when suddenly he recollected there was something he had forgotten
to see to in one of the glass-houses; so, taking his knotted stick from
behind the door, he once more began to trudge slowly up the avenue.
Did his eyes deceive him? It was surely Robin that he saw leaping over
the fence and running across the field as if for his life. Why did he
come that way? Was he going to the house? Yes; he opened the white gate
leading to the back premises, and presently disappeared.
Jonathan's first impulse was to meet him in the field on his return,
and question him as to his errand; but the old man knew his stiff legs
would not reach thus far in time, the boy was flying at such a rate.
He therefore hid himself behind a large tree, and from his place of
concealment saw Robin a few minutes after return through the gate, and
by the same short cut regain the high road. But he had a basket on his
arm! Where was he taking it to? Why did he come back to fetch it? Here
was an explanation of the boy's restless impatient manner when detained
at the lodge gate for a few moments before wishing him good-night.
"There is something underhand going on," muttered old Jonathan sadly.
"I was sure of it. The poor lad could not look me in the face to-day
when I asked him a question; he got scarlet when I mentioned cook's
name. What can it be? He has got into a thorny path, and I must see him
out of it, even though my own hands get torn. I will be his friend,
whatever it costs; and I pray God we may see the right side of this
business before long."
While his dear old teacher and friend was thus sadly musing over what
he had just seen, Robin, wholly unconscious of detection, was doing his
utmost to make up for the time so unwillingly lost while talking to
Jonathan at the lodge. But he had not got more than half-way when he
heard the sonorous tones of a church clock warning him that the hour
had come when he had promised his mother he would try to be at home.
She had said she wanted him particularly.
There was therefore no time to go round by Andover Street, though cook
had urged the necessity of his doing so. He must carry the basket home
with him, and take it there in the morning. Thus resolved, he sped
swiftly up the street leading to his own home; and, lest his mother
should question him about the basket if she saw it, he ran quickly
through to the court, and deposited it in a corner hidden by a stack of
sticks, before entering the room where she and Corrie were sitting.
Mrs. Campbell greeted her son with a bright smile, saying, "Ah! Robin,
you are a good boy. I hoped you would not keep me waiting long, for I
have to go and see a lady to-night who owes me some money for washing.
Take Corrie out for a bit to the green fields. It has been so hot here
all day for her. I am obliged to keep up the fire for the ironing."
"All right, mother," was Robin's quiet response. And she, hastily
putting on her bonnet and shawl, had not time to observe how miserable
he looked.
After her departure, Robin carefully considered whether he could not
first take Corrie to Andover Street and leave the basket. But he
knew that the house his mother was bound for was in that immediate
neighbourhood. What if she met and questioned him? He dared not risk it.
Besides, she had often said she did not wish Corrie to be taken into
close dirty streets; and there had been a great deal of fever in the
town of late. The child, too, would be sure to tell mother about the
basket if she saw it. No; he must leave it until to-morrow morning; but
meantime, for greater security, he would remove it from the backyard
and hide it away under his bed. So Robin kept Corrie waiting in her
carriage outside the door while he did this.
"Oh, what a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive!"
He went sadly and quietly along towards the fields, which lay some
distance beyond the town. At last they turned off the high road to a
favourite spot beside a running brook, where were grassy hollows and
tall shady trees.
Robin was so busily occupied gathering wild flowers for Corrie, and so
preoccupied with his own thoughts, that he did not notice the gardener
of Oaklands was trudging, quite close to them, the other side of the
hedge, along the white dusty road. But old Jonathan's sharp eyes had
spied out the brother and sister, though he passed by without any sign
of recognition, muttering, "There is no time to be lost."
Mrs. Campbell was disappointed In not finding the lady at home, and
therefore returned sooner than she expected. Great was her surprise
after reaching home to hear old Jonathan's voice at the door.
"Come in, Mr. Jonathan," she answered cheerily, on catching sight of
the wrinkled face. "It is many a long day since I have seen you down as
far as this. I hope nothing is wrong at the house, or that Robin is not
wanted, for he is gone out with Corrie; but I expect them in soon."
The old man seated himself, and paused for a moment to wipe his
forehead with his red handkerchief and regain his breath, for he had
walked quicker than was his wont. Then he said, "Did Robin not tell you
about the lost sovereign?"
"No," replied the widow, turning pale at the thought of her son being
suspected of a theft. "Indeed, he has had no time, for I went out
directly he got back this evening. Pray tell me about it."
The gardener accordingly proceeded to recount the story of the missing
money as he had heard it in the kitchen that morning.
"You don't think Robin touched it, do you?" said his listener, aghast
and trembling.
"No," replied her true-hearted friend, "I don't, for I believe he is
honest to the backbone; but, for all that, there is something wrong
with the boy, Mrs. Campbell; and I've failed as yet to find it out. I
can only see he is miserable and unhappy; and I've a notion that cook
has beguiled him into underhand ways. I have long suspected this, but
could prove nothing until this evening, when I watched him return by a
short cut over the fields to fetch a basket from the back premises."
"He brought no basket here, Mr. Jonathan. Of course I should have seen
it if he had," added the poor woman hotly, for she felt her temper
rising.
"Then he did not come straight home," said the gardener.
"Oh yes, he did; he was in much earlier than usual, and there was
nothing in his hand."
The conversation continued until it was suddenly interrupted by
Corrie's voice in merry chatter as Robin brought her in. Jonathan was
the last person he expected to see, and he looked both ashamed and
foolish on perceiving him seated by the fire. The boy's guilty fears,
bred of an accusing conscience, nearly made him drop his sister after
lifting her from the carriage. Mrs. Campbell saw the look, and, taking
Corrie from his arms, she carried her into the adjoining room to put
her to bed.
"Robin," said Jonathan sternly when they were left alone, "tell me the
truth at once: what did you do with that basket I saw you fetch from
the house?"
"The basket?" stammered the boy, hoping to evade the question by
gaining time to frame a suitable answer; but, meeting the piercing
look of those keen grey eyes, his own fell before it. The whole truth
must come out now, and Robin burst into tears. "Oh, Mr. Jonathan!"
he sobbed. "I am so glad you know about it! I have been so very very
miserable? There it is," he added in a husky tone of voice—"there it
is, hidden away under my bed, because I could not take it to Andover
Street to-night for cook. But oh, Mr. Jonathan, I know no more than you
do what is inside it!"
Then followed a full and free confession of the sin that like a
millstone had been weighing him down for so many weeks. Mrs. Campbell
entered the room unobserved by her son, so great was his agitation.
She listened in silence for some minutes, then sat down upon a chair,
to cover her face with her bands and weep bitterly.
"Oh, Robin, how could you be so wicked?" she cried. "What would father
have said if he had been here? Oh, that I should have lived to see my
son act so deceitfully!"
A piteous glance at his mother was the only answer he could make.
"Give me the basket," said Jonathan, stretching out a hand, which shook
as though palsied. "Robin, you must return with me to Oaklands. I must
see the master to-night. There can be no sleep for either of us until
this matter is cleared up."
"Oh, Mr. Jonathan, I dare not see master! He will turn me from his
service directly he hears what I have done."
"Don't be a coward, Robin! 'Dare and do the right!' is the Christian's
motto, whatever the consequences may be," said the old man resolutely.
"Master is a just and upright man, and ever a friend to those who need
one. Commit your cause to God, and He will plead it for you."
But the boy's agony of mind was so great that he still sought for a
subterfuge, and said, "But there may be nothing wrong in the basket. I
never looked inside to see what cook put there. She said it was only
something for her mother. Do open it and see."
"Not for the world," replied Jonathan. "Nobody but master shall cut
that cord. Ah, Robin, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift
you like wheat; but the Lord Jesus is praying for you, I am sure of
that, though you are now too miserable to pray for yourself. If there
was nothing wrong about that basket, there would have been no need to
send it away secretly. You know that as well as I do. I quite believe
you did not know what terrible trouble you were bringing upon yourself
when you promised to obey that dishonest woman; but that is another
matter altogether."
"It will be in the hands of the police to-morrow!" sobbed the poor
mother as her head bent still lower.
"Well, I believe there will be a piece of work for them here," said
Jonathan, pointing to the basket, "if ever they were wanted; but I
hope, for your sake, master will not expose it publicly. Come, Robin,
we are wasting precious moments."
But the boy still lingered, though his old friend had moved to the door.
"Mother, forgive me!" he cried, melted into the deepest contrition, and
quite overcome at sight of her hopeless stricken expression. His arms
were round her neck now. "I never never will do such a thing again! Do
believe me!"
"Robin," she said slowly, and raising her tear-filled eyes to his,
"you have sinned deeply against God, and brought a stain on our good
name which can never, I fear, be wiped out. Your master could not keep
anyone in his service who had acted as you have."
"Do not add to the lad's distress," said kind old Jonathan, returning
to lay his hand upon her arm. "Rather encourage him to face his duty
like a man. Master is a Christian gentleman, who will do the right,
whatever that may be. Pray for Robin; and may God send you an answer
of mercy and peace! But take heart to believe your prayer will be
answered, or it will not be the prayer of faith. I will do my best to
speak up for the lad, you may be sure."
So saying, he went slowly out.
The boy gave one more look at his mother, and followed Jonathan with a
sinking heart.
The two walked on together for some time in silence, Robin feeling as
though he were being led to execution, while Jonathan lifted up his
heart at every step to entreat the Father of the fatherless to look
down in pity, and avert the shadow of evil now resting upon those in
whom he took so deep an interest.