SET FREE!
THE master of Oaklands was somewhat surprised late that evening to
receive a message from his gardener requesting to speak with him in his
business room.
"Say I will be there in a few minutes," was the answer. "I hope there
is nothing wrong," said the gentleman to his wife. "It is most unusual
for Jonathan to ask for me at this time in the evening."
The few minutes seemed like hours to poor Robin as he sat waiting with
Jonathan, his ear attent for the first footstep along the passage, his
eye fixed on the handle of the door, watching for it to turn. Even the
clock on the mantelpiece seemed to be pronouncing a severe sentence
as it ticked loudly, and presently struck the hour with a sharp
decisive clang like the strokes of a hammer. Before Robin had finished
counting it, the master entered; and one look at the lad's downcast
shame-covered face caused him to inquire quickly, "Why, what is the
matter, Jonathan? Is Robin in disgrace?"
"Ah, sir, he is in sore trouble," replied Jonathan, rising to speak,
"and there can be no relief for him till you know all about it. I will
tell you the whole matter from beginning to end, and may God guide your
judgment."
So the master listened patiently to every word, only interrupting
the gardener now and then to ask Robin some questions, which were
truthfully answered.
"Say to your mistress, I should be glad if she would come here
immediately," said the gentleman to a servant, after ringing the bell;
"and tell cook I wish to speak to her."
Robin ventured to lift his eyes to the gentle lady's face as she
entered, hoping to find pity and sympathy there. As he did so, cook
appeared, looking very red and uncomfortable, yet with a bold stare
on her face, as though she could not imagine why she was wanted. She
darted a keen look of hatred at her victim, when she caught sight of
the fatal basket on the table, which so terrified the poor boy that he
shook from head to foot.
"Cook, will you tell me what is in that basket?" said her master
quietly.
The woman muttered something indistinctly about mother wanting a few
things; then, trying to cover her defeat by an outburst of passion,
said fiercely, "That is my basket. No one has a right to touch it but
me. That boy is a sneak and a liar, and—"
"Silence!" interrupted the master. "Before you say any more, I will, in
the presence of these witnesses, open the basket; and if it is found to
contain nothing but what belongs to you, all shall be returned."
The string that had so carefully secured the cover was then cut,
and the contents exposed to view. There was a large piece of bacon,
with some lard, half a pound of butter, two pots of jam, and a
good-sized cake. Nor was this all. On searching further, a small box
was discovered containing a sovereign, and beside an empty bottle
marked "Gin" lay a note addressed to her mother, and signed by cook.
It directed that fifteen shillings of the money should be taken to a
certain pawn-shop in Andover Street, with the enclosed numbered ticket,
to redeem a certain valuable ring her mistress had dropped in the
hay-field three weeks ago. Further instructions were added about the
refilling of the bottle, and a special request that all might be ready
for Robin to bring back the following morning. This was read aloud.
And the woman, seeing now there was no hope of escape, confessed to
the whole of her misdeeds, imploring forgiveness, as the sudden terror
seized her that the affair would be made public in the police-court.
She said she had been tempted to take the sovereign from the
embroidered purse on the morning of the birthday, when everybody was
engaged in the tent on the lawn. She had heard her master promise a
handsome reward to the finder of the lost ring, and therefore wished to
redeem it quickly, that she might receive the promised sum.
The truth was all out now; but the master and mistress soon discerned
there was no real repentance connected with cook's confession. It was
only made under fear of the retributive justice she expected would
swiftly follow. This was evident from the fact that, though the reading
of the note had proved Robin to be no accomplice in the theft, she did
her utmost to involve him in her own disgrace by telling tales of his
frequent visits to the kitchen, the half of which were untrue.
"You have said enough, cook," said her master sternly. "I do not wish
to hear any more. You have nothing to do with Robin; he has his own
punishment. You will leave my service to-morrow. A cab will take you to
your mother's house. For the sake of Mrs. Campbell, whom I respect, and
whose son's ruin you have sought, I will not bring the case before the
police; but let me never see you on these premises again."
The sentence was received with an expression of dogged indifference,
which changed to a look of defiance as she left the room. Long and
earnestly did her gentle mistress plead with the woman before her
departure, trying in vain to awaken the hardened heart and conscience
to a sense of sin. Those words of loving reproof and counsel fell upon
an ear of stone—an ear that some years afterwards longed for that voice
of Christian love, when none were nigh to speak a word of hope, as she
sat a wretched prisoner in a county jail.
Robin did not lose his place. His humble and penitent confession, given
without reserve as soon as cook had left the room, convinced the master
that his was genuine sorrow. Another chance of gaining an honourable
character must be given to the boy. This kind decision was confirmed by
Jonathan's entreaties, who pleaded for Robin as if he had been his own
son.
"Go home," said the old man after the interview was concluded, and he
was walking down the avenue with Robin. "Go to your knees in humble
thankfulness, and pour out your heart to your loving Father, against
whom you have sinned. If you want words, turn to the fifty-first Psalm.
You will find everything there; and God has said, 'If we confess our
sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us
from all unrighteousness.'"
So Robin went home; and there, after saying good-night to his mother,
who had awaited his return in much anxiety, and receiving her
forgiveness, he knelt down beside his bed, with his Bible open before
him, to cry with his whole heart:
"'Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Thy loving-kindness;
according unto the multitude of Thy tender mercies blot out my
transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me
from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever
before me. Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil
in Thy sight. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and
I shall be whiter than snow.'"
That prayer rolled back the cloud's dark face, and showed its silver
lining. The load was gone from Robin's heart, and he could rest in
peace.
Jonathan's master did not forget to thank his faithful servitor for all
the trouble he had taken in discovering the theft. But the ring was
still to be redeemed. Would Jonathan go to the pawn-shop and fetch it
back?
To this, he willingly consented.
"It will be best for me to go," said he. "They are a rough lot down in
that part of the town."
Accordingly, the following morning, he trudged off upon his errand,
and slowly threaded his way with his trusty staff through long close
streets, every turn of which he knew well.
At last he stood before a house, above whose doorway swung the familiar
sign of the three gilt balls. Jonathan had to wait ten minutes before
he could be attended to, as the shop was rather full, even at this
early hour.
"What a history some of those things could tell!" thought he, as he
stood and surveyed the various articles hanging one above another
without reference to sort or kind. Those little petticoats and shoes!
Where were the poor helpless children who once had worn them? Alas!
Perhaps hungry and barefoot, because the huge public-house at the
corner had tempted fathers and mothers to rob their little ones for the
sake of that cursed drink. A small hungry-eyed girl, with a tattered
pinafore and no frock, who held on by her mother's dirty gown, glanced
up at the kindly old man, as if the smile she found on his good-natured
face was something new in her experience.
At length there was a movement and shuffling of feet towards the door.
Jonathan's turn to be served had come. Several of the rough customers
eyed him askance as they passed out. His honest respectable face
looked as if it had no business in such a place. A sullen-visaged
woman scowled suspiciously when he made known his errand by presenting
the ticket. Some low-muttered words passed between her and the
rascally-looking man who held out his hand to receive the money. The
pearl ring was in Jonathan's possession; and he clutched it nervously,
lest by any mischance it should slip through his big fingers before he
had restored it to its rightful owner.
Robin met Jonathan as he went to his work, and the old man noticed
that the lad looked into his face with glad fearless eyes. The guilty
shame was no longer there. Ah! How happy Robin felt as he ran along
the road after that morning greeting! The birds' merry matin song made
true music in his ear, for he was in tune with it now. The hardest work
would be light to-day.
But it was some time before the shadow of that dark experience left the
boy's heart. In his calm review of the past, each wrong step showed
clear before him; he could see how pride had been his stumbling-block,
because he had been "wise in his own eyes." How easy he had thought it
was to be a Christian!
"The grass is always greenest in the valley of humility," he had heard
old Jonathan say, and wondered what he meant. It is there that the Good
Shepherd maketh His flock to lie down in the sultry noon, beside the
still waters. The boy recalled the lesson taught by the fragrant almond
boughs, and awakened to its meaning. Out of the shelter of the golden
ark, the rod had remained bare and fruitless. It was the work of the
Holy Spirit alone to revive and freshen, by leading him back to the
ever-open door.
One day, to Robin's great delight, he saw Miss Clarice running
through the garden gate towards him, rake in hand. There had been no
opportunity of speaking to her since the day cook departed, and there
was still something on his heart which made it heavy; so, moving
forward to meet her, he said, with a downcast look, "Please, miss,
I wanted to tell you it was I who broke the vase, and got you into
trouble. Mr. Jonathan knows about it."
"Oh yes, Robin! And so does mamma now; but she is not angry with you,
because you are sorry. I was naughty, you know," added the child, with
a sad look, which, however, quickly changed to a bright smile as she
ran to her garden, calling out, "It is all right now, Robin."
Ah! How free and unfettered did the boy feel now! That gentle touch had
healed the wound remorse had kept open.
"The birds have never sung so merrily before," thought he, as he worked
away with a happy will. "Surely the sky was never so blue!"
Certainly the mother had not heard her boy whistle so blithely for
weeks, or noticed such a bright smile on his face, as she did that
evening when he ran in and put his week's wages into her hand.
"I am so glad to think you know about everything, mother, and that
there is nothing to hide now," he whispered.
"You will tell me a nice story to-night, Robin," pleaded Corrie, who
had caught the reflection of her brother's smile.
"Yes, darling. Come away to the green fields. You shall fill your
basket with beautiful flowers to-night, and we will be so happy!"
"Happy and good," said Corrie, repeating a favourite household word.
Its significance sent a strange thrill through Robin's heart as he bent
down to kiss the pale face.