Chapter V

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."

"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.