SUNSHINE AND SHADE.
Clarice and Owen generally breakfasted together very early, some time
before Mr. and Mrs. Hadleigh appeared. Clarice had spent an anxious
night, partly on her own account, and partly being troubled about Owen,
as Norris continued to speak against him whenever he could; so that she
was quite startled to see her cousin come into the room with a calm,
sunny face.
"What is the matter!" she exclaimed; "has father found out it was not
you?"
"No; I wish he had."
"Then what makes you look so happy?"
"Clarice, I do believe the Lord Jesus has saved me, and made me His
child."
They were simple words, but they told of a great change, and Clarice
burst into tears.
"Why do you cry?" asked Owen, presently.
"Because I want the same; I see it has made you 'rich,' Owen."
"You can have it too, if you will. Only you must go to the Lord Jesus
for it, as I did."
The rest of the breakfast passed almost in silence. Clarice could not
speak, and it was not easy for Owen to tell of his new-found joy. They
went down together to the shop, and the morning's work began. The boy's
bright face was not unnoticed, though no one else asked him the reason
of it.
A fortnight passed away, and Owen seemed no nearer being cleared. Norris
was as disagreeable as ever, doing all he could to get the boy into
trouble; but his unfailing truthfulness and integrity saved him from
falling into the traps laid for him, and this angered Norris still more.
Mrs. Hadleigh, too, continued as distant as ever, and was much annoyed
to see the change in Clarice, which she attributed solely to her
cousin's influence.
"I can't think what has taken the girl," she said to her husband one
day; "your nephew has brought his religious notions here, and has turned
her head. Such trouble as I've taken to keep her from all pious people,
too, fearing they would fill her head with fancies. And here she is as
religious as any of them. I might just as well have saved myself the
trouble."
"Exactly so," said her husband, dryly.
"I do believe you will go the same way, James."
"Might do worse."
"And after all our toil to work up the business!"
"My dear, the business won't suffer."
Meanwhile, in the shop below, Norris had sent Owen on an errand to the
stores underneath the ground; he had to go down through a trap door to
the cellar, and not going quick enough to suit the young man, or out of
spite, Norris give him a push, which, loaded as he was, made him lose
his footing and fall heavily through the opening.
"What a stupid!" exclaimed the man; "he is no more fit for business than
a calf."
"Norris!" said Clarice, coming hastily out of the counting-house, "I saw
the whole affair. You pushed him down, and my father shall know."
"You make a mistake, Miss Hadleigh," he said, blandly; "he is the most
useless boy we ever had on the premises."
One of the porters and Dawson had hastily descended after the boy, who
was lifted up in their arms, groaning heavily.
Mr. Hadleigh came in at the moment, asking what had happened. Every one
gave a different answer.
"He is severely injured," he said, as he bent over the boy. "David, run
for Mr. Daly; ask him to come at once. Can you two carry the lad
upstairs?"
When Mrs. Hadleigh had found out what had happened, she declared he
ought to be sent at once to the hospital. But her husband said the boy
reminded him more of his brother every day, and for that brother's sake
he should be nursed in the house. The doctor's verdict settled
everything; he said the patient must on no account be moved; the
hip-bone was broken, and he must be kept perfectly quiet.
When the bone was set, and the boy somewhat more comfortable, though in
great pain and weakness, Clarice crept softly into the room, and watched
him for a moment with tears in her eyes. He looked so white and
suffering; and to think it should happen through the carelessness and
unkindness of another!
Presently Owen opened his eyes. "Is that you, Clarice?"
"Yes; how are you now?"
"Isn't it a good thing I was saved in time?" His voice was feeble,
though the tone was glad.
"Saved in time?" questioned Clarice.
"Yes, I mean saved before this happened. You see, I could not have
thought about these things while I was in such pain--at least, it would
have made me feel worse. Now the pain is all outside; my heart is happy.
Jesus comes and says to me, 'My peace I give unto you.'"
Clarice knelt down by the side of the bed, and softly stroked the boy's
hair back from his forehead. He seemed to like the caressing motion, for
he did not move till she said softly, "I know something of that peace,
too, Owen, and it was through your lips the blessing came to me."
A sunny smile spread over the white face as he said, "It was worth all
the pain to know that, Clarice. God has found us both now."
"Yes, I had been trying to help father to make his fortune; and you had
come to Barmston wishing to make your fortune; but God has given us His
riches."
"Would you mind reading to me a little? My head is so bad; I think it
would comfort me, and give me something to think of while I am alone in
the night."
Clarice was much touched to find that her young cousin expected no care
or nursing during the night. It showed her how accustomed he was to be
neglected, and put on one side in the house. But she said nothing, only
opened Owen's Bible, and softly read the Psalm that so many, young and
old, have rested their souls on in times of joy and sorrow: "The Lord is
my Shepherd; I shall not want." Quietly and slowly, without any comment,
she read the Psalm through, and then, seeing the boy was exhausted, went
noiselessly out of the room to seek some refreshment for him.
As soon as the shop was closed Mr. Hadleigh came up himself to visit his
nephew, and assure him that he would take all care of him, and that he
was not to trouble about the accusation, for the more he watched him,
the more he was convinced that he was innocent, though where the goods
had gone to was a great mystery.
"David shall sit up with you to-night," he said, "and we will see about
a better nurse in the morning."
Owen was much surprised at his uncle's tender manner, for he had always
been too absorbed in business to speak kindly to any of his family. But
though Owen did not know it, his influence was working unconsciously
upon his uncle, and opening his eyes to see that other things are worth
obtaining besides money.
The pain was very severe, and Owen felt thoroughly sore all over, for,
beside the broken bone, he was considerably bruised and shaken. Clarice
peeped in again before she went to bed, bringing a little plate of jelly
to moisten his mouth during the night, and to see that everything was
arranged as comfortably as might be. Presently
[Illustration: "QUIETLY AND SLOWLY ... SHE READ THE PSALM
THROUGH."--_Page 50._]
David came up, and took a seat by the bedside. He looked gravely at the
drawn, white face, as he asked anxiously, "Is the pain terribly bad?"
"Bad enough," said Owen, faintly.
"What a coward that Norris is!" said the boy, indignantly; "the master
ought to turn him away."
"Does uncle know he did it?"
"I don't know. I saw Norris talking away to him in the soft, sweet
manner he has; and no doubt he made out it was no fault of his. I should
like to tell Mr. Hadleigh himself."
"You must not do that."
"Why not?"
"Because we must not carry accusations of one another about."
"But it is true that he did knock you down."
"Yes; and if uncle asked you to tell him, you might do so; but I am sure
you ought not to offer to tell him."
"That's rather queer, isn't it? Mr. Hadleigh was not there, and he may
think it was your fault after all."
"God was there. He saw it all, and He knows everything--even why Norris
is so against me; and He will make it right."
But Owen could not go on talking; the pain was so severe, he could only
just bear it by keeping perfectly quiet. An hour or two passed away
slowly, when Owen was surprised to hear his uncle's voice at the door,
calling softly, "David!"
The boy rose. "Yes, sir," he replied.
"Is Owen asleep?"
"No, sir, he can't sleep, the pain is so bad."
"Well, come with me a minute, and then you shall return to him."
The door was gently closed, and Owen heard no more, except a whispered
consultation outside. Then he was left alone for some time.
A strange thing had happened. In the bustle and confusion of Owen's
accident Mr. Hadleigh had been somewhat upset, and just as he was
getting into bed he remembered that he had left his cash-box in the
counting-house. Such a thing had never occurred before in all his
business life, and he was a good deal dismayed when he thought of it.
Throwing on a dressing-gown, and stepping softly for fear of disturbing
Owen, he went downstairs. He carried no candle, for he knew just where
he had left the box, and he feared a light might set fire to something.
He had just reached the glass door leading into the shop, and was about
to put his hand out to open it, when he observed a faint light in one
corner, and a figure moving. For a moment he seemed paralysed, but
gathering his wits together, he carefully watched for a moment or two,
when he saw the muffled figure of a man reaching down canisters and
boxes, carefully and gently, and abstracting part of their contents. Not
much out of each, evidently, for the parcels he made up were small; but
the basket on the floor held a good many of them. The man's face he
could not see, nor could he at all make out the figure.
After watching him for a moment, he crept upstairs, and calling David
out of Owen's room, sent him off by a back-door to the neighbouring
police-station, while he again mounted guard at the glass door. It
seemed a long time to Mr. Hadleigh as he stood watching the thief
walking softly about the shop, helping himself here and there to tea,
sugar, cloves and spices, dried fruit, and other goods. He felt sure it
was one who knew the premises well, by the way he went about, laying his
hands on exactly what he wanted. Who could it be? It was neither Owen
nor David, that was clear, and Mr. Hadleigh felt quite relieved when
David returned with two policemen, who did not speak a word, but looked
through the glass door, as Mr. Hadleigh silently pointed out the thief
to them.
As they turned the handle of the door, the slight click caused the thief
to start, and when he saw the policemen he hastily extinguished his
light, and flew across the shop. But the policemen rushed after him;
there was a few moments' struggle in the dark, as the thief tried to
reach a small window at the back, from which he had evidently entered;
but the two powerful men held him down and secured him, while David got
matches, and lighted a lamp.
"That was a pretty tidy catch," said one of the men; "caught in the very
act of stealing. A pretty long sentence you'll get, my man."
Mr. Hadleigh drew nearer to look at the man as they were leading him
away, and to his surprise and indignation, saw Norris!
"Is it possible!" he exclaimed. "What can have been your object?"
"Let me off this time, Mr. Hadleigh," he whined; "let me off this time.
It will ruin me for life if you put me in prison. Let me go this time."
"A likely thing!" said the policemen, grimly, as they led him out into
the street.
When they were gone, Mr. Hadleigh went round the house and shop to see
that all was safe, David following with a light; and when everything was
secure, they went upstairs again.
"Where have you been?" was Owen's first question. "Do lift up my pillow
a bit; my head is so uncomfortable."
David did as he was asked; but he looked so excited that Owen inquired
again, "Where have you been?"
"Mr. Hadleigh wanted me down in the shop."
"In the night! What time is it?"
"Two o'clock."
"What could he want?"
"We caught a thief stealing the goods out of the shop. I went for two
policemen, and they got hold of him."
"How dreadful it must be to be a thief; it is worse for him even than
for uncle to lose his things."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"I wish he knew I did not take those things of Mr. Davenport's."
"I think he'll know soon."
"Do you? Why?"
"I expect it was the same thief all along, and the truth will come out."
To David's relief, Owen did not ask any more questions, for Mr. Hadleigh
had warned him not to excite the boy, nor tell him more than was
needful. But David could hardly contain himself, it had been such a
strange episode in the night.