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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f57f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text +*.htm text +*.html text +*.png binary +*.jpg binary +*.svg text +*.pdf binary +*.bmp binary +*.zip binary +*.midi binary +*.mp3 binary diff --git a/79226-0.txt b/79226-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa2e00a --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1574 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79226 *** + +Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + + + +[Illustration: "I HEARD GRANDPA SAY HE WAS A REG'LAR HEATHEN."] + + + + A THREE-FOLD PROMISE + + + BY + + MARIAN ISABEL HURRELL + + AUTHOR OF "CECILY MORDAUNT." + + + [Illustration] + + + LONDON + S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO. + 8 & 9 PATERNOSTER ROW. + + + + CONTENTS. + + [Illustration] + +CHAP. + + I. "A REG'LAR HEATHEN" + + II. IN DISGRACE + + III. DORIS MAXWELL'S LETTER + + IV. "PROFESSOR" WRAGGS, THE SHOWMAN + + V. THE MISSING CHILD + + VI. DISCOVERY + + VII. MADAME FAIVRE + + VIII. REUNION + + + A THREE-FOLD PROMISE. + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER I. + +"A REG'LAR HEATHEN." + +THE carriage stood waiting at the door, the boxes carefully packed by +a mother's loving hand were all ready to be shouldered by the stalwart +"cabby," and in the shabby little sitting-room of a poor London home, +the last few words of parting were being spoken. + +Gerald Weston's heart was very heavy, for on that day, he and his +mother were to be separated for the first time in his young life. And +the boy's spirit failed him as he thought of the long months which must +elapse ere he saw her face again. + +"My laddie," said his mother, fondly, "I want you to promise to do +three things whilst I am away from you: Never to forget your prayers, +to speak the truth 'always,' and to remember that whatever may happen, +God loves you and is watching over you." + +"Yes, mother, I promise, but why must you leave me?" sobbed the boy, +clinging to her as though he never meant to let go. + +"Because, darling, it is for your good. You know, since your father's +death we have been very, very poor, and your uncle has promised to +provide for you if I give you up to him for two years. In the meantime, +I must work hard, and perhaps you and I can have a cosy little home in +the country in the days to come. The time will soon pass, and we shall +be together again." But the mother's tear-filled eyes belied her brave +words. + +"Why can't you teach me 'stead of other little boys and girls?" said +Gerald, half rebelliously. + +"Come, my boy, you must be brave for my sake." + +A tap at the door signified that the boxes were disposed of, and that +the bitter moment of parting had arrived. A long, lingering clasp, a +loving embrace, and the good-byes were over, and an entirely new life +had commenced for Gerald Weston. He was but eight years old, and little +wonder that the future looked dark and drear, with no mother at hand to +comfort him. + +Nothing but absolute poverty would have driven her to part with the +child, and the conditions made by Sir Herbert Weston, his uncle, were +hard to bear. Only in case of illness on either side, were mother and +son to meet within the next two years, during which time Gerald would +be entirely provided for, at Sir Herbert's expense. Had Mrs. Weston +known more of the character of the man to whom she was entrusting her +child, nothing would have persuaded her to part with him, but the +inducements held out so dazzled her, that she agreed to Sir Herbert's +proposals, believing him to be possessed of a kindly, albeit somewhat +severe, disposition. + + +Sir Herbert Weston, and his friend Mr. Wilfrid Sharpe—the family +lawyer—were engaged in an after-dinner chat, when a loud ring resounded +through the house. + +"H'm!" ejaculated the baronet, with a grim smile on his features. "That +is my hopeful young nephew, I suppose." + +Mr. Sharpe looked up inquiringly. + +"I have not told you yet of my latest little—fad, I suppose you will +call it. You remember poor Oliver? Well, his widow, a poverty-stricken +descendant of some old Scotch Covenanter, is reduced to great straits, +and I have undertaken to provide for the boy, on condition that his +mother gives him up to me entirely for the space of two years. If I +find out during that time he is a lad to my liking, I shall make him my +heir; if not, well—" Here Sir Herbert snapped his thumb and finger as +though he were quite indifferent to the matter in hand. + +Mr. Sharpe, despite his keen professional manner, had a nature beneath +which belied his name, and in his heart, he pitied the child who was +thus given up to his uncle's tender mercies. + +"Poor little chap!" he muttered. + +"Why?" said the baronet, sharply. + +"Well, I don't wish to hurt your feelings, Sir Herbert, but you don't +seem exactly the kind of man to train a mother-sick laddie." + +Sir Herbert was in no way offended, being accustomed to the lawyer's +plain speech. + +"We bachelors can't be expected to understand children's ways," added +Mr. Sharpe, as though his first remark required toning down a little. + +"I have no wish to understand children's ways," said the baronet, with +a frown; "my nephew is going to understand mine, and I shall expect +him to follow in them unquestioningly. You shall see the child for +yourself, and give me your opinion of him afterwards." So saying, Sir +Herbert rung the bell sharply. + +"Send Master Weston in to me," he said to the maid who promptly +answered the summons. + +In a very short space of time the door opened, and a childish figure +stood on the threshold. + +Mr. Sharpe, who prided himself on being a keen judge of character, +looked at the little fellow critically, and seeing in the +straightforward blue eyes traces of recent tears, felt a rush of pity +and tenderness, and made up his mind there and then to befriend, so far +as it lay in his power, Sir Herbert's young nephew. + +"How do you do, Uncle Herbert?" said the boy, coming forward half +shyly, yet with a certain childish self-possession which amused the +baronet. + +"How do you do, Gerald?" answered Sir Herbert, after which he +introduced his nephew to Mr. Sharpe. + +Little notice was taken of Gerald for some time, until the lawyer with +kindly interest in his tone said: "And how did you leave your mother, +little man?" + +With the memory of that bitter parting fresh in his mind, little wonder +that the boy's eyes filled with tears, and that for a moment he was +unable to answer. + +One of his mother's counsels rung in his ears: "Be a brave laddie, +Gerald." And with a mighty effort he pulled himself together, and tried +to smile as he replied to the gentleman's polite inquiry. + +Such a weak, watery smile it was, that it brought a sudden moisture to +the glasses of the lawyer. Removing them from his eyes, he wiped them +very deliberately before making any further remark. + +Sir Herbert, who had also noticed the boy's brave effort at +self-control, was secretly pleased, and with a desire to avoid any +further upset, he bade Gerald say "Good night," and prepare for bed. + +Once upstairs in the bedroom prepared for his use in Sir Herbert's town +residence, the boy buried his face in the white counterpane and sobbed +bitterly. + +A brisk movement at the door, and the housekeeper, a comely woman, with +cheeks like rosy apples, entered the room. + +She stared aghast at the crying child, and then her womanliness getting +the better of her, she dropped her quick business-like manner, and +clasping her arms around the boy, drew him towards her, and let him sob +to his heart's content. + +"My mother! My mother! I want her so badly," he cried. + +"Yes, yes, I know you do," said the good woman, "but you must cheer up; +you'll feel ever so much better to-morrow." + +Mrs. Webster, for the past twenty years, had been Sir Herbert's +housekeeper, both in his town residence, and also at The Towers, his +lovely home in one of the Eastern counties. She was well accustomed +to his ways, and her presence in his household was a necessity to his +comfort. Knowing her master as she did, she rather trembled for the +effect he would have upon this sensitive and warm-hearted child. + +"Hilda will be your maid in future, my dear, but to-night 'I' am going +to put you to bed." And so saying, she undressed him, as she would a +baby. As the child knelt in his little white night-shirt to say his +prayers, her eyes overflowed. + +"Not many prayers rise from this house I'm thinking," she murmured to +herself; "maybe the child is sent to lift us out of the world a bit, +and nearer to a better one." + +All unknown to his little forlorn self, Gerald Weston had made two new +friends, who in his unknown future would stand by him right well. + +There was silence for a while in the library below, where the two +gentlemen were sitting, whilst upstairs the boy slept the dreamless +slumber of tired-out childhood. + +"So you are going away to-morrow, Sir Herbert," said the lawyer after a +long pause. + +"Yes, but my business on the Continent will only last a few days, and +then I shall return, and think what is best to be done concerning the +boy." + +"In the meantime, I wish you would grant me a favour." + +"With pleasure, if I can do so." + +"Let me have the boy whilst you are away. My sister's little girl +is staying at my house, and needs a companion sorely. They would be +capital playmates, I fancy." + +At the word "playmates," Sir Herbert frowned, for he did not approve of +recreation; life to him was all earnest. Nevertheless, he agreed to Mr. +Sharpe's proposition, as the lawyer had been too good a friend to him +in the past, for him to refuse to grant such a small favour. + + +Thus it was, that on the following day, Gerald found himself a guest at +the pleasant suburban home of Mr. Sharpe, and his maiden sister, Rachel. + +He was not at all sorry to leave the gloomy house of his uncle behind +him, for already it seemed to him like a prison. + +Miss Sharpe's welcome consisted of a peck on the cheek, intended for +a kiss, and a limp handshake, but what was lacking on her part, her +little niece supplied. Doris Maxwell, a child of about six years of +age—and not at all troubled with shyness—came forward, and put her +arms around his neck, as she would have done to one of her own little +brothers. + +Gerald was a little taken aback first of all, but he came to the +conclusion that she was a very nice little girl. + +The two children soon became great friends, and the merry games they +played helped Gerald to forget his grief awhile. + +"You 'are' a kind boy," said the little maid to him, after a friendship +of twenty-four hours. "You don't tease me, nor poke my dollie's eyes +in, nor nothing." + +Gerald grew rosy with pleasure. + +"Do your brothers tease you then?" he asked. + +"Oh! Drefful. I can't 'tell' you all the naughty things they do," said +Doris, opening wide her brown eyes with righteous indignation. + +To further gain the little lady's approval, Gerald bethought himself of +what he could give her for a present. + +Feeling in his pocket, he drew forth one of his chief possessions, a +little knife. It was a great sacrifice on Gerald's part, and he looked +at it lingeringly before parting with it. + +"I am going to give you a present, 'cause we're friends, you and me." + +"What is it? Oh, a knife! How lovely, Gerald, but I 'spect I must hide +it away from Aunt Rachel. She is a very 'culiar lady, and might take it +from me; she isn't half so kind as Uncle Wilfrid. Is your uncle nice, +Gerald?" inquired the child, with some curiosity in her tone. + +Gerald scarcely knew at first how to answer this very communicative +little girl. "I don't know, I hope he is," he said, with a deep sigh. + +"Don't 'spect he is, for I heard my grandpa say he was a reg'lar +heathen." + +"Heathen?" repeated Gerald in surprise. + +"Yes, p'raps you don't know what they are. Well, I'll tell you! +Heathens is black, and they have little idols, which they says their +prayers to. Mother told me, so I know it's true. Is your uncle black?" + +"No," said Gerald, bursting into a merry laugh, which would have +cheered his mother's heart could she have heard it. + +Doris looked disappointed. + +"Oh well, perhaps he'll turn black by-and-by; anyhow I know he's a +heathen, 'cause grandpa says so, and he knows everything. He's so +'very' old, nearly a thousand years, I should think." + +"What a funny old man he must be!" said Gerald, bubbling over with +amusement. + +"I shall come and see you one day, 'cause I love you very much," said +Doris after a slight pause, for a brilliant idea had just occurred to +her mind. + +"Perhaps my uncle won't let you come," answered Gerald a little sadly. + +"Oh, yes he will, I shall come with Uncle Wilfrid, see if I don't, +and—" here the child lowered her voice mysteriously—"we will try and +find the idol what he prays to." + +Gerald began to think that Doris was the dearest and funniest little +girl he had ever met, and he was quite comforted to think there might +be a chance of meeting her again at his uncle's house. + +The days spent at Mr. Sharpe's pretty suburban home, passed all too +quickly away, and it was with regret he bade "good bye" to new friends. + +Doris came to the gate to see the last of him, and called out in her +childish treble, "I'll be sure to come and see you, Gerald, and the +heathen as well. I wish he was black, though!" + +"Gracious!" said Miss Rachel. "What 'does' the child mean?" But hearing +at that moment from cook that the kitchen chimney was on fire, she +puzzled her brains no more about the subject. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +IN DISGRACE. + +SIR HERBERT returned from the Continent, eager to commence the training +which he considered advisable for his future heir. A competent tutor +was engaged to give him lessons daily, and many were the restrictions +imposed upon the child. After the freedom of his home life, the boy +felt the change greatly, and pined like a bird in captivity. + +No Scripture lessons were allowed, and but for good Mrs. Webster's +influence, the child would have been discouraged to say his morning and +evening prayers, for Sir Herbert believed in none of these things. He +found the lad tolerably submissive, and was congratulating himself on +the success of his system of education, little dreaming that the boy +was chafing even as a prisoner in the house of bondage. + +One day in the midst of Gerald's lessons, a tap was heard at the +schoolroom door. + +"Come in," said the tutor, and in walked a little figure, with merry +brown eyes, and curly hair. + +Gerald at once recognised her as his little friend Doris Maxwell, and +sprung forward to greet her. In the presence of his tutor she only +nodded and smiled, then turning to the tall, scholarly-looking young +man, she addressed her remarks to him. + +"Please what is your name?" she said, commencing her catechism at once. + +"I am Marmaduke Trevor, little maid, this young gentleman's tutor," he +answered pleasantly. + +"What a funny name!" said the irrepressible Doris. "It 'minds me of +marmalade." + +Gerald laughed, but the tutor looked grave, as if he considered Doris +rather an impudent little girl, though the child really meant no +disrespect. + +"Please I've come with a message, Mr. 'Marmaluke.' Gerald's uncle says +he wishes him to have a little holiday, and come out in the garden with +me." + +Sir Herbert's slightest wish being a command, the tutor dismissed his +pupil, and smiled to see what an utterly different boy he was in the +companionship of this little girl, from the repressed, serious child +who usually looked as though there was an ache in his heart for his +absent mother. + +Glad peals of laughter presently rang out in the garden below, and so +merry were the children's voices, that they made quite a pleasant break +in the business conversation which was going on in the library between +Sir Herbert and the lawyer; at least, such was the opinion of the +latter gentleman. + +After lunch, of which the children partook with their elders, and +behaved with the utmost propriety (although there were times when Sir +Herbert found Doris's inquiring gaze almost embarrassing), the boy and +girl went upstairs to the deserted schoolroom, as the little apartment +in which Gerald did his studies was called. Here they amused themselves +looking over a certain picture book, which Gerald's mother had given +him on his eighth birthday. + +"There's our uncles walking round the garden," said Doris, after a +while, craning her neck to look out of the window on to the small patch +of ground, which was all Sir Herbert's town residence could boast in +the way of garden. "Now shall we go and look for the idol?" murmured +Doris, mysteriously. + +"What idol?" said Gerald, little dreaming of the importance the +imaginative child had placed on her grandfather's words. + +"The one your uncle bows down to," she answered; "surely you 'member +what I told you." + +"Doris, what a little goose you are!" laughed Gerald. + +"I'm not a goose, and you're a rude boy," she said, with a pout, and a +suggestion of tears in her voice. "If you don't come, I shall go all by +myself," she added. + +Now I fear Doris was a naughty spoilt child, for she certainly on this +day led Gerald to be guilty of his first act of disobedience. + +"I'll go with you, Doris," he said, anxious to appease the offended +little lady, and the two children started off on a voyage of discovery, +Doris leading the way. + +Gerald followed until they came to the library, the door of which stood +partly open. + +"I'm going in here, Gerald; 'spect that's where he keeps it," said the +child. + +Now Gerald had been forbidden to enter the library at any time without +his uncle's permission, and fearful of disregarding the stern order, he +stood for a moment hesitatingly on the threshold. + +A little scream of delight from Doris made him enter. + +Before an Indian cabinet stood the little girl, her brown eyes wide +open with wonder and surprise. + +"I've found it! I've found it! There's the idol what your uncle +worships. Oh, Gerald! What a hid'ous old thing." + +There on the top of the cabinet, amongst other treasures, was placed +a small heathen god, brought from India as a curiosity some years +previously by Sir Herbert after a brief stay in that country. + +"Don't touch it, Doris," cried Gerald in alarm; "uncle would be 'so' +angry!" + +"I shall just see what it's made of," said the child, taking the little +image into her hands to examine it. + +By this time Gerald was in a fever of fright, and snatching the +treasure from Doris, was about to replace it, when Sir Herbert himself +entered the room. + +Every particle of colour forsook the cheeks of the boy, and he looked +as though convicted of some terrible crime. + +"Your uncle is ready for you, Doris," said Sir Herbert with great +dignity, and feeling like a very naughty child—as indeed she was—Doris +hastily left the library. + +"I will speak to you later, Gerald, about this matter. Meanwhile you +can go up to the schoolroom and remain there until Mr. Sharpe and his +niece have left." + +In a short space of time, Gerald heard the sound of carriage wheels +departing, and then he knew that his hour of judgment was come. + +A message was despatched to the schoolroom, summoning him to come at +once to the library, and tremblingly the boy obeyed. + +Sir Herbert stood facing the door, with a small cane in his hand, as +Gerald entered the room. + +"What excuse have you to offer, Gerald, for this disgraceful act of +disobedience!" he demanded. + +Deep down in his cold, worldly heart, he was becoming attached to the +little fellow who submitted himself so patiently to his rule, though +Sir Herbert little knew the depths of love and passion of which the +sensitive, fragile boy was capable. + +Gerald hesitated as to whether he might not justify himself by throwing +the blame on to his little companion, but to his childish sense of +honour, such a course of action was inexcusable, for was not Doris his +chosen friend? + +No, he would bear whatever punishment Sir Herbert might inflict, for he +knew that if the blame were to fall upon Doris, never again would she +be permitted to be his playmate and companion. + +"I'm sorry," began the child. + +"So am I, as I hoped and believed I could trust you. What would your +mother say to such an act of disobedience?" + +The boy's lip quivered, but Sir Herbert was merciless. + +"I intend you shall obey me in everything whilst you are in my house. +'Implicit obedience,' remember! And for this act I shall punish you." + +Now Gerald in all his young life had never once been beaten, and he +had a babyish fear of the cane. His father had been too indolent to +put himself out in any way, and his young loving mother had ruled him +entirely by the law of kindness; therefore corporal punishment was to +him a revelation, and a very unpleasant one too. + +"Don't beat me, 'please,' Uncle Herbert, I'll never do it again!" +pleaded the boy, with a deep sob in his voice. + +"No, my lad, I don't think you will, but I shall whip you all the same." + +It was not a cruel, merciless beating which Gerald had to endure, but +the shame and humiliation of it all, entered like iron into his soul. + +"He bore it like a man, ay and a gentleman," said Sir Herbert long +afterwards, when remorse and sorrow had touched his heart, for the +punishment he had so hastily bestowed. + +Banishment for the rest of the day followed his chastisement, and by +his uncle's desire, the culprit's meals were served in his bedroom. + +"I can't eat anything, thank you, Hilda," he said, when the +good-natured girl brought him up his supper. + +"Do now, Master Gerald, dearie. Here's a lovely piece of sponge cake, +which cook made on purpose, knowing as you was fond of it. Come, do +try, you'll feel ever so much better when you've eaten it, and had a +good drink of milk." + +To please Hilda, the child made an effort to eat, and was really +refreshed and comforted, both by the meal, and the girl's tender +sympathy combined. Having said his prayers, which, faithful to the +promise he had given his mother, were never forgotten, he laid his +weary little head on the pillow, and very soon the deep sobs were +hushed to the calm even breathing of childhood's peaceful slumber. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +DORIS MAXWELL'S LETTER. + +A MASS of correspondence awaited Sir Herbert's perusal, and amongst the +heap of letters was one addressed to him in a round, childish hand. + +Something unusual about the envelope caused him to open this letter +first of all, and he was in the midst of reading it, when Gerald made +his appearance in the breakfast room, on the morning which followed his +disgrace. + +A curt greeting was all that Sir Herbert bestowed on the child, but as +he folded his letter, and put it back into the envelope, he looked at +the boy with a softened expression in his eyes, and felt a slight pang +of reproach, as he marked the pale cheeks and heavy eyes of the little +lad. + +Gerald proceeded with his breakfast in silence, for he knew better than +to interrupt Sir Herbert during the reading of his correspondence, +besides which he was too sore at heart for conversation. + +The business letter having been disposed of, Sir Herbert once more took +up the childish epistle, and read it through carefully. The spelling +was somewhat quaint, but then so was the little writer, and cold and +worldly as he was, he could not fail to be touched with the sincerity +of the letter. It was as follows:— + + "DEER SIR HERBET,—pleese do not be angery with gerild, it was all my + folt that we went into your libery and looked at the little idle what + you wership. gerild was afrade to disobey you, only I made him come. + Pleese let us be frends still, and we wont never do it again. Nurse is + helping me to spell the long words, as I cant rite a letter all alone. + Good bye sir herbet.—Yours truely, DORIS." + +Somehow this letter pleased him, and he felt quite kindly disposed +towards the little writer, although her reference to the "idle" +somewhat puzzled him. He determined however to get to the root of the +matter. + +"What made Doris so anxious to go into my library yesterday?" he +demanded of his nephew. + +Sir Herbert required the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the +truth, and the least deviation from this path was ever a matter of the +keenest annoyance to him. + +Gerald hesitated a moment, thinking that were his uncle to know all +that Doris had said, he would indeed be angry. + +His mother's precepts again seemed to ring in his ears, and truth +prevailed. + +"Because, uncle, she wished to see the idol." + +"How came she to know I possessed one?" + +"She did not know, only 'spected it." + +"But what made her suspect such an extraordinary thing?" + +Sir Herbert felt that there was a mystery somehow, and he was more than +ever determined to unravel it. + +"Because—" and here the boy's voice trembled a little, for fear of +the effect his words would have upon his questioner—"because her +grandfather said—" + +"Said what? Speak out." + +"You were a heathen." + +There was perfect silence, and at length Sir Herbert, finishing his +breakfast somewhat abruptly, rose from the table; then turning to the +child, he said quite gently, "There is an old French saying, my boy, +which means, translated into English—'Do the right, come what may.' If +you continue to go on as you have begun, I shall one day be proud of my +nephew." + +Gerald was utterly astounded. These were the first words of +commendation he had yet received from his uncle, and the boy, who had +expected nothing less than an outburst of wrath, in return for his +candour, was immensely relieved. + +Shortly after this event, preparations were made for Sir Herbert +Weston's return to his country home, The Towers, which was situated in +a picturesque village in the county of Suffolk. + +With a childish love of variety, Gerald was quite looking forward to +seeing the beautiful home, about which Mrs. Webster had told him. + +His tutor was to accompany him, as Sir Herbert considered regularity in +lessons a most important part in his system of education, and he had +great faith in Mr. Marmaduke Trevor's abilities. + + +The first breath of autumn was in the air, and the leaves quivered on +the branches, as though they knew their summer prime was over. + +In the days which followed, Gerald saw but little of his uncle, as +there were frequently large shooting parties at The Towers. Mr. Trevor +employed much of his leisure time in studying up for an examination; +thus, the boy felt his life to be somewhat of a lonely one. + +His spirits, owing to the healthy life which he led, were higher than +in other days. And occasionally, he resented even Mrs. Webster's +control, although fear of his uncle made him most submissive when he +was near. + +Hilda was not at all satisfied with the change in her young charge. + +"He's getting that masterful, I soon shan't be able to manage him at +all," she complained to Mrs. Webster. + +"Nonsense, Hilda, he is only growing a bit more 'spirity,' like other +boys. He wants companions, only of course the master thinks, and +rightly too, there are no children about here for him to associate +with." Thus spoke Mrs. Webster who had grown to love the lonely child. + +And Hilda was silenced, but not convinced. + +"I wish I could go fishing, Hilda," said Gerald one sunny September +morning. + +"'Taint no use wishing, Master Gerald," answered the girl; "you know +the master wouldn't let you go." + +"Mother would let me go if she was here." + +"Pity she ain't, Master Gerald; maybe you'd be a bit more easy to +manage if she was." + +"Do you think I am 'really' a naughty boy, Hilda?" inquired Gerald, +rather anxiously. + +"Not exactly naughty, Master Gerald, only you are a bit too fond of +your own way." + +Gerald was silent for a time, thinking out the matter. If his mother +were but near, he thought, how he would fling his arms around her neck, +and tell her he had tried to be good, only somehow it was so hard. + +Never once had he forgotten his prayers, and it was a well-known fact +in the household that "Master Gerald spoke the truth," but the little +lad had yet to learn the fact that whatever might happen, God was +watching over him. + +The foregoing conversation took place in the orchard, under an old +spreading tree, where a swing was placed. This was a very favourite +spot of Gerald's, and he spent much of his leisure time there. + +"Don't your little brothers go fishing?" he inquired, returning to the +first subject of conversation. + +"Yes, my brother Bob is a real good little fisherman." + +"How does he manage it, Hilda?" + +"Well, he has a rod and line and a little tin of worms. Ugh! Nasty +things. He baits his hook with dough sometimes, but more often with +them wriggling worms." + +To the town-bred child, the idea of a rod and line and a day's fishing +seemed the most perfect enjoyment possible, and his enthusiasm reached +such a pitch that he determined to ask his uncle to let him go. + +"No, certainly not," was the crushing reply when he proffered his +request. "That's how your father fooled away his time, as a young man. +Stick to your lessons, boy; they are better for you than fiddling with +a rod and line." + +Never dreaming but that he would be implicitly obeyed, Sir Herbert +thought no more of the matter. + + +A week passed away, and to Gerald's delight, his old friend Mr. Wilfrid +Sharpe came down to see his uncle, and lunched at The Towers. + +The old lawyer complimented Sir Herbert on the appearance of the child, +and indeed Gerald Weston looked a very different specimen from the +pale-faced boy he had met only a few months previously. + +"He looks well, certainly," said Sir Herbert, with a pleased expression +on his face. + +It was Saturday afternoon, and therefore a half-holiday, and Gerald, +thinking that his uncle and Mr. Sharpe would be engaged in business +matters, considered his opportunity had arrived at last for a fishing +expedition. + +Already, without saying a word to anyone, he had bought himself a +little rod and line with his pocket money. + +The worms, however, had been a more difficult matter, but Jones the +gardener had managed this, after a little persuasion. Thus equipped +with all the necessaries for juvenile fishing, Gerald crept by stealth +out of the garden gate, and making his way through the meadows, he soon +reached the stream where the fish were swimming merrily, unconscious of +their fate. + +Several other lads, whose ages varied from eight to twelve, were +there already, and Gerald, joining the little party, soon commenced +operations. + +To his intense delight, he caught several perch and gudgeon, during the +happy hours-which followed. + +At length, feeling both tired and hungry, he began to think of tea-time. + +Sir Herbert and Mr. Sharpe were wending their way across the meadows +deep in conversation. + +"Yes, Sharpe," Sir Herbert was saying, in a smoothly complacent tone of +voice, "the boy will do; he has the making of a man in him. He has more +'grit' than his father ever had, and I have fully decided to make him +my heir." + +"I'm right glad, Sir Herbert," answered the lawyer. "I took to the +child from the first. He has grown into a noble-looking boy, and +certainly does you infinite credit." + +"Yes," said the baronet, with a smile of self-satisfaction. "I am quite +satisfied with my method of training; he is ever most obedient and +submissive to my will." + +At this moment, turning a corner of the meadow, Sir Herbert and Mr. +Sharpe came suddenly upon the little group of fishermen. + +"I've caught another!" cried a clear young voice, in a tone of ecstasy. + +Alas! In a moment Sir Herbert recognised it to be that of his young +nephew. + +Suddenly catching sight of the two gentlemen, Gerald let fall his rod +and line (from which dangled a poor helpless little gudgeon), and grew +white to the lips, convicted of an act of wilful disobedience. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"PROFESSOR" WRAGGS, THE SHOWMAN. + +"MY orders, Mrs. Webster, are to be obeyed." + +"But, sir, doesn't it seem a little hard?" + +"Hard, or otherwise, my will is law; till my return, Master Weston +is to remain a prisoner in his room. His meals may be served in the +dining-room as usual, but I forbid one member of my household to hold +conversation with him, save yourself." And with a haughty expression on +his face, Sir. Herbert abruptly turned away. + +The carriage which was to convey him to the station already stood at +the gate. It was the evening of the same day on which Gerald had so +grievously offended, and Sir Herbert was on the point of returning to +town with Mr. Sharpe on an important matter of business. The lawyer +saw that it was of little use to plead for the lad, but Gerald, now +bitterly repentant, begged to be forgiven. + +"I cannot forgive you yet, Gerald," he said, as he coldly repulsed him, +"neither shall I be able to trust you again. When I return on Monday, I +shall decide on what punishment to inflict." + +"I don't want to be shut up alone, uncle. I can't bear it," half sobbed +the child. "Won't you forgive me this once?" + +As though scorning the boy's distress, he utterly ignored his plea, and +Gerald's heart grew hard within him. + +Mr. Sharpe, who was a witness of the scene, forbore to make any remark, +but his heart was sore for the unhappy child. + + * * * * * + +The Punch and Judy Showman and his wife were at tea, and right well +were they enjoying the meal. + +"Season pretty well over now," said the man, "Professor" Wraggs, as he +styled himself; "guess we'll have to make a move soon." + +"Bless you, Bob! There are plenty of people down at the sea yet. We +made a tidy little sum yesterday; you ain't content with your mercies." + +"Well, old gal, I daresay you're right. Here, Toby!—" This was +addressed to the show dog—"You must have your share." + +And so saying, he threw a choice morsel to the clever little animal, +whose daily performance at a certain sea-side town on the Suffolk +coast, was the delight of a crowd of children. + +"Hullo! Little chap, what do you want?" said the "Professor" to a +tired-looking boy of about nine years of age, who stood for a moment +watching them. + +[Illustration: "HULLO! LITTLE CHAP, WHAT DO YOU WANT?"] + +"I'm hungry, that's all," answered the lad, rather wearily. + +"Hungry! What, with them nice clothes on yer!" said the man in surprise. + +"Lo! Bob, he can't eat his clothes. Come here, little chap," added +the woman, addressing the child, "I'll give you a slice of bread and +butter; after that, you can run home to your ma." + +"I can't, she's too far away, and I've nobody to care for me now." + +The boy, who was none other than Gerald Weston, munched his bread and +butter as if it were the choicest delicacy he had ever eaten, and well +he might, for it was many hours since he had tasted a good meal. + +The woman gazed at the boy with an expression almost amounting to +tenderness. Only the week before, the worthy couple had followed their +only son, a lad of about Gerald's age, to the quiet cemetery, and +something about his face reminded her of the child she had lost. A +whispered consultation then followed between the husband and wife. + +"Just the very thing!" murmured the showman, eyeing the boy up and +down, as he sat there enjoying his bread and butter. + +Presently the woman said aloud, "How would you like to stay with us, my +boy; we'll give you a home and shelter." + +Gerald's eyes sparkled, and without waiting to think a second time, he +accepted the offer. + +"But what about mother?" thought the child a minute later. "I will +write her a letter, to tell her where I am. And perhaps when she knows +all, she will come and fetch me." + +And in due time the letter was written, but his mother, an English +governess in a continental city, never received that childish effusion, +for Mrs. Wraggs, to whom it was given to post, forgot all about doing +so, and the unfortunate missive was lost amongst the stage properties +of the Punch and Judy Show. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE MISSING CHILD. + +"WHAT is the matter, Sir Herbert? I fear you've had bad news." + +"Good heavens! Sharpe, it's appalling." + +The baronet stood with an open telegram in his trembling hand, with a +look of fear and dread in his eyes. + +"The west wing of The Towers was partially destroyed by fire last +night, and Gerald is missing. And I left him in anger!" said Sir +Herbert in acute distress. + +Mr. Sharpe was greatly shocked, but equal to the occasion. He rung the +bell imperatively, and gave orders for a cab to be brought round at +once. A few hours later, and the two gentlemen were on the scene, where +the conflagration had taken place. + +"What has become of my nephew?" sternly demanded Sir Herbert of the +housekeeper. + +"Heaven only knows, sir," said the woman, with the tears streaming down +her face. "We made every effort to save him. At the first outbreak of +fire, I went to his room, which, as you know, sir, was in the west +wing. Already it was filling with smoke, and I feared he must be +suffocated. But he was nowhere to be seen, search as we might—for we +all did our utmost, sir, indeed, we did, when we knew his little life +was in danger. It is feared that he was overcome by the smoke on the +landing, and—" + +Good Mrs. Webster's sobs checked her further utterance, but Sir Herbert +had heard enough to fear the worst, and he groaned in his despair. For +though he knew it not, the child had grown into his heart and life. + +The overheating of a flue was said to be the cause of the fire, which +but for its comparatively early discovery, would have wrought even +greater damage to the ancestral home of Sir Herbert Weston. The shock +proved to be more than he knew how to bear, and for some days the +baronet was too seriously indisposed to do more than lie passive in the +doctor's hands. + +The terrible fate which he feared had overtaken the child, and remorse +for the hardness with which he had treated him, weighed upon Sir +Herbert so terribly that for a time the good doctor was afraid lest +his brain should be affected, and he advised a complete change for his +patient, as soon as he should be well enough to travel. + + +To account for Gerald's disappearance, we must return to the Sunday +which followed the day whereon he had so grievously displeased his +uncle. The lad's high spirit chafed against the punishment accorded to +him, and upon thinking the matter over, he made up his mind that when +opportunity occurred, he would leave The Towers secretly, and for ever. + +Mrs. Webster, who sincerely pitied the child, despite his disobedience, +kissed him that night with more tenderness than usual, and the kindness +touched his heart. Leaning his head on her shoulder, he broke into a +passion of sobs. + +"I can't be good here, without mother; I'm growing worser every day. +Oh! If only Uncle Herbert would send me back to her again." + +"Come, Master Weston, my dear, this won't do; you must be a good boy, +for your mother's sake. You know it was really very naughty of you to +disobey the master; wasn't it now?" + +"I suppose it was, only I don't seem to care," said the boy, in +reckless abandonment of grief. + +"Yes, yes, my laddie, you 'do' care," answered the good woman gently. + +"If Uncle Herbert was only as kind to me as you are, I would always be +a good boy, but—" + +Mrs. Webster, fearful of another outburst of tears, softly interrupted +him,— + +"It is time now for you to say your prayers, my dear, and then you must +go to sleep. When your uncle comes home on Monday, you will be able to +tell him how sorry you are, and he will forgive you right enough." + +With a more cheerful tone than her convictions warranted, Mrs. Webster +left her young charge, settled as she thought for the night. + +But Gerald had other plans, for an hour or two later, he slipped +quietly out of bed. And hastily dressing himself, he made his simple +preparations for departure. + +Taking his little purse, which contained just one half-crown, he +managed with great caution to leave the house unobserved. It was +moonlight, therefore the night to the solitary child was robbed of its +terrors. He made his way across the meadows, tramping on and on till +he was both footsore and weary. The plans which he had formed in his +childish mind were these: To make his way to the station about three +miles distant, and take a ticket there for the sea-side town of A. +which was the nearest watering-place to the village where The Towers +was situated. + +In his ignorance, he imagined that once by the sea-side, he would have +no difficulty in finding a steamer which would bear him across the +Channel. As regarded the payment of his passage, he fondly hoped that +by referring the captain to his mother's address, which he carried in +his pocket, all would be well. + +"Mother will pay him all right," thought he. + +Alas! Poor Gerald had much to learn in worldly wisdom. + +How silent it all was in the peaceful September moonlight. The birds +long ago were hushed to sleep, and only the winds whispered in the +leafy branches. The stars gleamed faintly in the cloud-flecked sky, +overcome by the brilliance of the great round moon. + +Gerald at length, becoming too tired to proceed on his journey, sat +down beneath an old tree, and leaned his head against the trunk. + +The heavy eyelids would fain have closed in sleep, but with an effort, +he roused himself. It seemed to his overwrought imagination that the +twinkling stars looked down upon him with reproving gaze, and this, +added to the feeling of utter desolation, brought the bitter tears to +his eyes. How dreary his young life seemed to him now that his mother +was so far away; he almost cherished reproachful thoughts of her—no one +cared, no one was near to love and protect him. + +"Remember that God loves you, and is watching over you!" + +With a mysterious power, his mother's words again seemed to ring in his +ears. + +"God was watching over him! Could it be possible that He, whose Throne +was in Heaven, amid the holy angels, was looking down upon him in love +and pity? Surely not in 'love,' for he had been so naughty." Thus +reasoned the desolate child. + +Then feeling his utter need of 'some' one to care for him, his cry went +up beyond the shadows of earthly night, to Him who is the Friend of +little children. + + "O God!" he pleaded. "I am afraid to go back. I know I've been wicked, + but please forgive me, and take care of me, for Jesus' sake. Amen." + +It seemed to him that after his prayer, the stars looked at him more +kindly. And in a very few minutes, the tired child was fast asleep. + + +When he awoke, the sun had already mounted the heavens, and at first +Gerald wondered what had happened, and how he came to be out of doors, +with a green field for his resting-place. + +Then it all flashed upon him, and vigorously rubbing his eyes, he arose +from his mossy couch, feeling slightly stiff but considerably refreshed +by his long sleep. Then he trudged on, making his way to the nearest +station. On his arrival there, he was conscious of feeling very hungry, +and spent part of his small store in buying himself a roll and a cup of +coffee at a stall close by the station, which was opened early for the +benefit of workmen. + +After breakfast, he took his ticket for A., and a train being due for +that place, in a very short time the boy was on his way thither. + +Gerald had never known the delights of a sea-side holiday, and the +glorious expanse of water sparkling in the sunshine was a revelation to +him. Once there, he very soon made his way down to the beach, where the +sight of the children at play with spade and pail amused him so much +that for a while he forgot his troubles. Towards mid-day he began to +feel hungry again, and remembering he had but one solitary half-penny +left in his purse, after paying his fare, he pondered in his mind the +best method of spending it. + +He arrived at the conclusion that a bun would be his best purchase, so +seeking out a baker's shop, he bought himself the necessary article. + +The afternoon was a dreary one for him; his penniless condition made +him feel for the first time how foolish as well as wrong he had been +in running away from the home his uncle had provided for him. He would +gladly have gone on to the pier, to watch for the steam-boats, but he +had not the wherewithal to do so, and neither had he the courage to +face any captain with his request. + +Feeling both sad and forlorn, Gerald walked aimlessly to the farther +end of the beach, where, as we already know, he was soon befriended by +the Punch and Judy Showman and his wife. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +DISCOVERY. + +"HOW do-do, do-do, do-do?" shrieked out the unmusical voice of Mr. +Punch, who came proudly to the front, decked in his gold and spangled +attire. "Don't yer know me, my little dog Toby?" + +Toby, befrilled and unmuzzled, gazed upon Punch with seeming +indifference, and then upon the assembled crowd, as much as to say: +"Did you ever see such a silly old thing in your life?" + +"Shake hands, Toby!" echoed the shrill voice again. + +Toby's paw was held out obediently. "Now the other one, Toby! +Beautiful! Beautiful!" cried Mr. Punch in rapture, winking one of his +great eyes, and forthwith embracing the clever little doggie. + +To Gerald, the Punch and Judy Show was most enthralling, and the +kindness he received from the hands of the good proprietor and his +wife, justified all the golden opinions he had formed of them. + +Finding the boy's manner and appearance a great source of profit to +their coffers—for few could resist the lad as he came round with the +little collecting bag—they tried to make the life as attractive as +possible to him. But try as they would, there was much in it that +jarred against Gerald's sensibilities, and he occasionally longed for +the refined surroundings of his uncle's home. + +The novelty of his existence very soon wore off, and though he did +not care to show his reluctance, he grew at last to hate the task of +collecting the money. + +After he had been about ten days with "Professor" Wraggs and his wife, +a delightful event took place. He was going round as usual, during the +performance, with his bag, when a clear young voice fell upon his ear. + +"Uncle Wilfrid," said a child, on the verge of the crowd, "dear Uncle +Wilfrid, do stop and see the Punch and Judy Show!" + +"'You' may, little one, if you like. Nurse will take care of you, while +I go to buy a paper. I'll soon be with you again," answered Uncle +Wilfrid. + +And Doris Maxwell, to whom the sad story of Gerald's supposed fate had +never been told, for fear of the shock it would give the tender little +heart, watched the performance, with her merry brown eyes twinkling +with fun. + +Gerald saw with great surprise that his little friend Doris was amongst +the audience, but not caring to be recognised in his new position, +turned his back upon the pretty child and her nurse. + +"May I give that boy with the bag my fripenny-piece, Nurse?" + +"A penny is quite enough, dearie," said Nurse, with an air of wisdom. + +Not waiting for the boy's approach, she slipped away from her nurse, +and was about to drop the silver coin—for Doris was self-willed as +ever—into the bag, when glancing up, she saw the face of her friend and +former playmate, Gerald Weston. + +"Gerald, oh, Gerald!" she cried in surprised delight. + +The boy turned crimson with shame at the recognition, although he felt +a keen sense of pleasure in again seeing his little friend. + +But business was business, and Mrs. Wraggs noticed that something +unusual had taken place, and that the attention of some of the +bystanders was diverted from the Show. This could not be allowed to go +on, and calling the boy to her side, she took the collecting bag out +of his hand and bade him remain at the back of the Show, whilst she +undertook his duties. With a lingering look at Doris, he obeyed. + +A few minutes later, Mr. Sharpe appeared upon the scene, and to him +Doris told her story. + +"Impossible, my dear, impossible!" he said, though wherefore he dared +not tell her. + +"But, uncle, I know it was Gerald." And in distress at his unbelief, +the child's eyes filled with tears. + +At the conclusion of the Show, Mr. Sharpe, at his little niece's urgent +request, made the acquaintance of the "Professor," desiring to see the +lad whose business it was to collect the money. And feeling it was +useless to deny the wish of such an important looking gentleman, the +man gave Gerald a call. + +"Gerry, my lad, you're wanted!" + +The similarity of the names gave Mr. Sharpe a slight shock. Could it be +possible that Doris was right after all? The boy, who was standing at +some little distance, obeyed the call. Upon seeing Mr. Sharpe, he gave +a glad look of recognition, but the eyes, instead of looking at him in +the old genial manner, had an expression of sternness therein, although +deep down in his heart the lawyer was conscious of a feeling of great +relief and thankfulness. + +"You must come home with me, Gerald, at once," he said. + +"Yes, yes, I will, only 'please' don't send me back to Uncle Herbert." + +"We don't want to part with him, sir; he's a very good lad to us," said +Mrs. Wraggs, who had joined the little group. + +"How came he to be under your care?" demanded the lawyer. + +Then the whole story was truthfully told. + +And Mr. Sharpe, feeling that the showman and his wife had acted the +part of Good Samaritans, acquitted them of all blame; nay more, he +amply rewarded them out of his own pocket for the care they had +bestowed upon Sir Herbert Weston's runaway heir. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MADAME FAIVRE. + +THE Towers was in the hands of workmen, who were busy repairing the +damage wrought by the fire. In the meantime, Sir Herbert was in +town, making preparations for a foreign tour. It was already growing +autumnal; the golden September days had given place to chill October, +and Sir Herbert, feeling still somewhat of an invalid, sat by the fire, +after his solitary breakfast was over, reading a letter which, to judge +by his expression, caused him considerable agitation. + +It was at this moment when a tap was heard at the door, and Mr. Sharpe +entered the room. + +"You are an early visitor this morning, but none the less welcome, +Sharpe," said the baronet, with an effort at cheerfulness. + +"My business was urgent, Sir Herbert, which is my only apology for +coming at this hour. You're not looking the thing—no fresh trouble, I +hope?" + +"Well, perhaps not a trouble in one sense, but I have had a letter from +my sister-in-law this morning about the boy. She wants to see him. God +help me! What shall I do?" + +The man in his extremity called upon the Name he had for so many long +years disregarded. + +"I've never had the courage to write and tell her of her loss. I know +it was wrong, but believe me, Sharpe, I have felt too wretchedly ill, +both in mind and body, to undertake the task. I have meant to do it +each morning, but my strength has failed me. I am as weak and nerveless +as a child." + +"What does his mother say?" inquired Mr. Sharpe, as he pondered in his +mind how to break the good news he had to tell. + +"She says that she is able to provide a home for him now; a relative +has recently died and left her all his property—read the letter for +yourself," added Sir Herbert, as he gave the epistle into the lawyer's +hand. + +"So she is coming for him at Christmas," said Mr. Sharpe, after reading +it through. + +"Coming! Man, yes! But what shall I say to her? These words seem burnt +upon my brain—'Whoso shall offend one of these little ones . . . it +were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and +that he were drowned in the depth of the sea'—" + +"But Gerald was greatly to blame," said Mr. Sharp, interrupting. + +"I suppose in a sense he was, but what is that child's sin in +comparison with mine?" + +"Would you forgive him 'fully' and 'freely' if he were here to ask you?" + +"Forgive him! Would God he were here to put me to the test." + +"Sir Herbert, Gerald 'is' here, and is only waiting to ask your pardon. +I left him in the hall, whilst I prepared you for his coming." + +"Gerald here!" cried the man, unconsciously raising his voice. + +And the little lad outside the door, thinking he was called, entered, +and Mr. Sharpe went out, and left the two together. + +[Illustration: "UNCLE, DEAR UNCLE, FORGIVE ME," HALF SOBBED THE BOY.] + +"Uncle, dear uncle, forgive me. I've been 'very,' 'very' naughty," half +sobbed the boy. And this time he did not plead in vain. + +Words failed the baronet at that moment, but opening his arms, he drew +the agitated child closely into them, and kissed him gently, as a +tender mother might have done. From that time, the heart of Sir Herbert +Weston became soft, even as the heart of a little child. + + * * * * * + +"So you really mean to leave us at Christmas, Mrs. Weston? Well, I'm +sure I don't know what Marie and Louise will say, when they hear of it!" + +"You are very good, Madame, and I shall never forget the kindness +received from your hands, when I came a stranger into a foreign land." + +Madame Faivre shook her head, and tears gathered in her kindly eyes. + +"It is 'you' who have been good to us, dear Mrs. Weston, and may God +reward you for the wise and gentle influence you have exerted over our +unruly household—mere money can never repay you." + +Poor Madame Faivre was in dire distress at the idea of parting with +her valued governess, to whom both she and her daughters had become +sincerely attached. Being herself of English birth, her affection and +sympathies were readily bestowed upon the lonely woman who had been +thus thrown upon her own resources for her daily bread. + +At this moment, Marie Faivre, a bright, high-spirited girl, of about +twelve years of age, entered the room. Owing to the fact that Marie and +Louise possessed an English mother, they spoke the language fluently. + +"Maman!" ejaculated Marie, seeing Madame Faivre in tears. "What 'is' +the matter?" + +Then for the first time, the tidings of Mrs. Weston's intended +departure was mentioned, and Marie's blank look of dismay testified to +her feelings. + +Louise, who followed Marie into the room shortly afterwards, was also +told the sad news, and she in her grief burst into sudden tears. + +"Come, come, girls, we must not be selfish. Your dear Madame has no +longer any need to earn her living, and we must think of her happiness +in once more seeing her little son, and having him to live with her +again." + +And Madame Faivre, as she thus spoke, briskly wiped her tears away. + +Mrs. Weston, touched with their affection and kindness of heart, felt +her cup of happiness well-nigh full. + +"Ah, your petit Gerald 'will' be rejoiced," said Marie gently. + +"He will be just as glad as we are sorry," said poor Louise with a deep +sob. + +"My 'dear' Gerald! Oh! How I long to see him," said Mrs. Weston, +forgetful for the moment of the present, as her thoughts roamed +backward to their bitter parting. + +"You'll wait till Christmas, won't you?" cried Louise in selfish +affright. + +"Yes, I promise you that," said Mrs. Weston, feeling that the weeks +would soon pass, and that in justice to her friends, she must give them +time to find another governess to take her place. + +But alas! For the promise she had bestowed—"L'homme propose, Dieu +dispose." + +The day following was a bright October morning, and Mrs. Weston (or +Madame as she was usually called), after despatching a letter to Sir +Herbert Weston to inform him of the change in her fortunes, and her +proposed return to England, sat contentedly in the cheerful schoolroom +preparing lessons. + +For some weeks she had had no news of her child, but still no anxiety +concerning this fact troubled her, for her brother-in-law was a very +occasional correspondent, and seemed to desire as little communication +as possible between mother and son. + +Presently upon lifting her eyes from the book she was studying, +her attention was attracted by an untidy mass of papers near the +fireplace—for Madame Faivre would have no stove in the schoolroom, but +a bright fire blazed away in true English fashion, when the chilly days +rendered it necessary. + +"Rosine must have forgotten these, when she lit the fire," she said, as +she rose to ring the bell. + +But ere doing so, she noticed that one was a part of an old copy of an +English daily paper. In some curiosity she glanced over the columns, +for it was a long time since it had been her lot to see a London +newspaper. + +A few minutes later, when Marie entered the schoolroom, what was her +grief and consternation to see her beloved Madame in a dead faint on +the floor, still clutching in her hand the portion of newspaper. + +"Maman! Maman!" cried out poor Marie. "Madame has fainted." + +Louise, who was following close at hand, found it even as her sister +had said, and hastily fetching her mother, together they endeavoured to +restore the poor lady to consciousness. + +Taking the paper from her hands, Madame Faivre read the paragraph which +had caused such bitter distress. It was an account of the fire at The +Towers, Sir Herbert's residence, and the supposed death of poor little +Gerald. Gradually, Mrs. Weston recovered her powers of thought, and +moaned pitifully in her distress: + +"My boy! My little Gerald! Oh, God help me!" cried the unhappy mother. + +"Pauvre Madame!" sobbed the girls in sympathetic grief. + +"What is it, maman, that has made her so ill?" inquired Marie. + +"Read the paper, mes chères, and then run away and leave me alone with +Madame." + +The girls read the ill-fated paragraph with blanched faces. + +"However did such a paper come into the schoolroom?" said little Louise. + +"I can guess," answered Marie; "you know Rosine has an English friend, +and he must have given it to her. Oh! If only poor Madame had never +seen it." + +Ere the day was out, Mrs. Weston had started on her homeward journey, +leaving behind her sad and anxious hearts. + + +"A telegram, maman, and for Madame," said Marie excitedly, a few hours +after Mrs. Weston's departure. + +"We must open it for her, Marie, as she is not here." And so saying, +Madame Faivre with considerable anxiety read the words contained +therein. + +"Come to England at once. Good news." + +"We must praise the good God for this," said the lady, while tears of +joy and thankfulness rained down her cheeks. "Run and tell Louise the +glad news," added she. "Oh, if Madame could only know!" + +Ah! Could Mrs. Weston but have known, much anguish of heart would have +been spared her. Meanwhile, she was making her way in bitter grief to +England, little recking of how soon her sorrow would be turned into joy. + +Upon arriving in London, she telegraphed to Sir Herbert Weston at The +Towers, but the reply came to the effect that the baronet's whereabouts +were not known, and referred the sender to Mr. Wilfrid Sharpe, 18 Hope +Gardens, Sydenham. + +And thither, without taking any rest, hastened the poor mother, each +step bringing her nearer—could she but have realised it—to happiness +and Gerald. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +REUNION. + +"I HAVE despatched the telegram, Sir Herbert, and we shall very soon +have the lady in England, I fancy." + +"You're a good friend Sharpe—you'll see me through this, won't you?" + +"Yes, yes, Sir Herbert, only it seems to me your troubles are over now." + +"No, they're not. I have to face the boy's mother, and I don't know +what she'll say to me." + +"Come, come, Sir Herbert, keep up your spirit," said the lawyer, +cheerfully. "What is she like—this mother whom Gerald thinks so much +about?" + +"I only remember her as a fragile looking girl of about two or three +and twenty—I haven't seen her now for some years. All our business +concerning the boy was done in writing. She was pretty, too, I fancy." + +"Well, this doesn't sound very alarming. I wish you would come and +lunch with me to-day, and bring Gerald with you. Doris is staying with +me again, and is just crazy to see her Punch and Judy hero, for such +she considers the boy now." + +"Perhaps the child won't appreciate lunching with 'the heathen,'" said +the baronet with a smile. + +Mr. Sharpe reddened a little. "I am afraid you must have thought her +very impertinent, but believe me, she never meant it," said the lawyer +anxiously. + +"Impertinent! Oh dear no, she only spoke the truth. I 'was' a heathen, +but since the boy's coming, somehow I've felt different. Yet he doesn't +look much like a missionary, does he?" + +A recollection of Gerald, as he dangled the hapless little fish on his +line upon that memorable Saturday flashed across Mr. Sharpe's mind. + +"No, certainly the child bore no resemblance to a missionary, and yet—" +the lawyer's face softened as he recalled a passage from Holy Writ—"'A +little child shall lead them.'" + +There was a pause, which was broken by the baronet. + +"Yes, Sharpe, I 'will' accept your invitation, and bring the boy with +me." + +The above conversation took place in Mr. Sharpe's London office, Gerald +in the meanwhile amusing himself very contentedly talking to the chief +clerk about the fish he meant to catch when he was grown up, whilst his +elders were discussing matters of more serious moment in the little +sanctum beyond. + + * * * * * + +Miss Sharpe was in quite a flutter of excitement, for the baronet was +an honoured, though somewhat unusual guest at her brother's table. +And in the pretty Sydenham villa residence, grand preparations were +speedily made for the illustrious visitor and his little nephew, Mr. +Sharpe with great worldly wisdom and forethought, having despatched a +telegram to his sister, to inform her of the expected arrivals. + +Doris, looking the very pink of propriety, sat next Sir Herbert, for +whom she had conceived quite a respectful affection. Gerald, brimming +over with joy—for was not his mother coming home very soon—was in a +state of mind which bordered on transport. + +Presently a loud ring was heard at the door bell, and a maid shortly +afterwards tapped at the dining-room door and informed Mr. Sharpe that +a lady desired to see him immediately. + +"What name, Henderson?" inquired he. + +"Mrs. Weston, please sir." + +There was a sudden rush—the sound of a falling chair, and the maid was +pushed unceremoniously aside. + +Then followed a cry of "Mother, mother." + +And Mr. Sharpe knew that for a little while at least, his presence was +not required in the drawing-room. + +Joy seldom kills, and the sight of the boy whom she believed never to +behold again with earthly eyes, was in itself such a rapture to Mrs. +Weston that she could do nothing but clasp him in her arms, asking not +the why or wherefore, whilst tears and smiles followed each other in +April-like succession. The bitter resentment she had been cherishing +against Sir Herbert for withholding the fateful news all faded away at +the sight of the little lad in his sailor suit. + +The baronet presently entered the room, his calm self-possession +well-nigh deserting him. + +Instead of the reproaches she had prepared herself to utter, she +grasped his hand, saying brokenly, "God bless you." + +Ah, mothers are not always quite reasonable, and such sweet +inconsistency was very welcome to Sir Herbert Weston's broken and +contrite spirit. + + * * * * * + +Months and years have passed away since Mrs. Weston's return to +England. It is the season of Christmas, the time of peace and goodwill. + +Gerald and his mother now live together in a charming little residence +called "The Lindens," situated in close proximity to The Towers, a fact +which is largely owing to Sir Herbert's generosity. It is well-known to +those around how deeply attached the baronet is to his young nephew and +heir. And in the lad's eyes, there are few to compare with his uncle, +whom, next to his mother, he regards with deepest affection. + +On the morrow, being Christmas day, there are to be great festivities +at The Towers, and amongst the invited guests, to Gerald's delight, are +Mr. Wilfrid Sharpe and little Doris Maxwell. + +"Mother," said Gerald, as they sat together in the firelight listening +to the Yule-tide bells ringing out their message of peace and goodwill, +"I sometimes wonder how little boys get on without any mother to keep +them right." + +Mrs. Weston rightly conjectured that his mind was reverting to the days +of the past, when he felt his need of her so sorely. + +"You must not forget, my boy, that there is a Love which far exceeds +that of a mother," she answered gently. + +"Oh, yes! That reminds me of what you said to me a long while ago—at +the time we bade 'good bye.'" + +"I remember, Gerald—a time when you gave me a 'three-fold promise.'" + + + + THE END. + + + + ———————————————————————————————— + LORIMER AND GILLIES, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79226 *** diff --git a/79226-h/79226-h.htm b/79226-h/79226-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..67d48b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/79226-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1795 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + A Three-Fold Promise │ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h2 {font-size: 1.17em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 5em ; + text-align: center } + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79226 ***</div> + + +<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>"I HEARD GRANDPA SAY HE WAS A</b><br> +<b>REG'LAR HEATHEN."</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h1>A THREE-FOLD PROMISE</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +MARIAN ISABEL HURRELL<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +AUTHOR OF "CECILY MORDAUNT."<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +LONDON<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO.<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +8 & 9 PATERNOSTER ROW.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS.<br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>CHAP.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. "A REG'LAR HEATHEN"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. IN DISGRACE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. DORIS MAXWELL'S LETTER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. "PROFESSOR" WRAGGS, THE SHOWMAN</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. THE MISSING CHILD</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. DISCOVERY</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. MADAME FAIVRE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_8">VIII. REUNION</a></p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>A THREE-FOLD PROMISE.</b><br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>"A REG'LAR HEATHEN."</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE carriage stood waiting at the door, the boxes carefully packed by +a mother's loving hand were all ready to be shouldered by the stalwart +"cabby," and in the shabby little sitting-room of a poor London home, +the last few words of parting were being spoken.</p> + +<p>Gerald Weston's heart was very heavy, for on that day, he and his +mother were to be separated for the first time in his young life. And +the boy's spirit failed him as he thought of the long months which must +elapse ere he saw her face again.</p> + +<p>"My laddie," said his mother, fondly, "I want you to promise to do +three things whilst I am away from you: Never to forget your prayers, +to speak the truth 'always,' and to remember that whatever may happen, +God loves you and is watching over you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother, I promise, but why must you leave me?" sobbed the boy, +clinging to her as though he never meant to let go.</p> + +<p>"Because, darling, it is for your good. You know, since your father's +death we have been very, very poor, and your uncle has promised to +provide for you if I give you up to him for two years. In the meantime, +I must work hard, and perhaps you and I can have a cosy little home in +the country in the days to come. The time will soon pass, and we shall +be together again." But the mother's tear-filled eyes belied her brave +words.</p> + +<p>"Why can't you teach me 'stead of other little boys and girls?" said +Gerald, half rebelliously.</p> + +<p>"Come, my boy, you must be brave for my sake."</p> + +<p>A tap at the door signified that the boxes were disposed of, and that +the bitter moment of parting had arrived. A long, lingering clasp, a +loving embrace, and the good-byes were over, and an entirely new life +had commenced for Gerald Weston. He was but eight years old, and little +wonder that the future looked dark and drear, with no mother at hand to +comfort him.</p> + +<p>Nothing but absolute poverty would have driven her to part with the +child, and the conditions made by Sir Herbert Weston, his uncle, were +hard to bear. Only in case of illness on either side, were mother and +son to meet within the next two years, during which time Gerald would +be entirely provided for, at Sir Herbert's expense. Had Mrs. Weston +known more of the character of the man to whom she was entrusting her +child, nothing would have persuaded her to part with him, but the +inducements held out so dazzled her, that she agreed to Sir Herbert's +proposals, believing him to be possessed of a kindly, albeit somewhat +severe, disposition.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Sir Herbert Weston, and his friend Mr. Wilfrid Sharpe—the family +lawyer—were engaged in an after-dinner chat, when a loud ring resounded +through the house.</p> + +<p>"H'm!" ejaculated the baronet, with a grim smile on his features. "That +is my hopeful young nephew, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sharpe looked up inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"I have not told you yet of my latest little—fad, I suppose you will +call it. You remember poor Oliver? Well, his widow, a poverty-stricken +descendant of some old Scotch Covenanter, is reduced to great straits, +and I have undertaken to provide for the boy, on condition that his +mother gives him up to me entirely for the space of two years. If I +find out during that time he is a lad to my liking, I shall make him my +heir; if not, well—" Here Sir Herbert snapped his thumb and finger as +though he were quite indifferent to the matter in hand.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sharpe, despite his keen professional manner, had a nature beneath +which belied his name, and in his heart, he pitied the child who was +thus given up to his uncle's tender mercies.</p> + +<p>"Poor little chap!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Why?" said the baronet, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't wish to hurt your feelings, Sir Herbert, but you don't +seem exactly the kind of man to train a mother-sick laddie."</p> + +<p>Sir Herbert was in no way offended, being accustomed to the lawyer's +plain speech.</p> + +<p>"We bachelors can't be expected to understand children's ways," added +Mr. Sharpe, as though his first remark required toning down a little.</p> + +<p>"I have no wish to understand children's ways," said the baronet, with +a frown; "my nephew is going to understand mine, and I shall expect +him to follow in them unquestioningly. You shall see the child for +yourself, and give me your opinion of him afterwards." So saying, Sir +Herbert rung the bell sharply.</p> + +<p>"Send Master Weston in to me," he said to the maid who promptly +answered the summons.</p> + +<p>In a very short space of time the door opened, and a childish figure +stood on the threshold.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sharpe, who prided himself on being a keen judge of character, +looked at the little fellow critically, and seeing in the +straightforward blue eyes traces of recent tears, felt a rush of pity +and tenderness, and made up his mind there and then to befriend, so far +as it lay in his power, Sir Herbert's young nephew.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Uncle Herbert?" said the boy, coming forward half +shyly, yet with a certain childish self-possession which amused the +baronet.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Gerald?" answered Sir Herbert, after which he +introduced his nephew to Mr. Sharpe.</p> + +<p>Little notice was taken of Gerald for some time, until the lawyer with +kindly interest in his tone said: "And how did you leave your mother, +little man?"</p> + +<p>With the memory of that bitter parting fresh in his mind, little wonder +that the boy's eyes filled with tears, and that for a moment he was +unable to answer.</p> + +<p>One of his mother's counsels rung in his ears: "Be a brave laddie, +Gerald." And with a mighty effort he pulled himself together, and tried +to smile as he replied to the gentleman's polite inquiry.</p> + +<p>Such a weak, watery smile it was, that it brought a sudden moisture to +the glasses of the lawyer. Removing them from his eyes, he wiped them +very deliberately before making any further remark.</p> + +<p>Sir Herbert, who had also noticed the boy's brave effort at +self-control, was secretly pleased, and with a desire to avoid any +further upset, he bade Gerald say "Good night," and prepare for bed.</p> + +<p>Once upstairs in the bedroom prepared for his use in Sir Herbert's town +residence, the boy buried his face in the white counterpane and sobbed +bitterly.</p> + +<p>A brisk movement at the door, and the housekeeper, a comely woman, with +cheeks like rosy apples, entered the room.</p> + +<p>She stared aghast at the crying child, and then her womanliness getting +the better of her, she dropped her quick business-like manner, and +clasping her arms around the boy, drew him towards her, and let him sob +to his heart's content.</p> + +<p>"My mother! My mother! I want her so badly," he cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know you do," said the good woman, "but you must cheer up; +you'll feel ever so much better to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Webster, for the past twenty years, had been Sir Herbert's +housekeeper, both in his town residence, and also at The Towers, his +lovely home in one of the Eastern counties. She was well accustomed +to his ways, and her presence in his household was a necessity to his +comfort. Knowing her master as she did, she rather trembled for the +effect he would have upon this sensitive and warm-hearted child.</p> + +<p>"Hilda will be your maid in future, my dear, but to-night 'I' am going +to put you to bed." And so saying, she undressed him, as she would a +baby. As the child knelt in his little white night-shirt to say his +prayers, her eyes overflowed.</p> + +<p>"Not many prayers rise from this house I'm thinking," she murmured to +herself; "maybe the child is sent to lift us out of the world a bit, +and nearer to a better one."</p> + +<p>All unknown to his little forlorn self, Gerald Weston had made two new +friends, who in his unknown future would stand by him right well.</p> + +<p>There was silence for a while in the library below, where the two +gentlemen were sitting, whilst upstairs the boy slept the dreamless +slumber of tired-out childhood.</p> + +<p>"So you are going away to-morrow, Sir Herbert," said the lawyer after a +long pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but my business on the Continent will only last a few days, and +then I shall return, and think what is best to be done concerning the +boy."</p> + +<p>"In the meantime, I wish you would grant me a favour."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, if I can do so."</p> + +<p>"Let me have the boy whilst you are away. My sister's little girl +is staying at my house, and needs a companion sorely. They would be +capital playmates, I fancy."</p> + +<p>At the word "playmates," Sir Herbert frowned, for he did not approve of +recreation; life to him was all earnest. Nevertheless, he agreed to Mr. +Sharpe's proposition, as the lawyer had been too good a friend to him +in the past, for him to refuse to grant such a small favour.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Thus it was, that on the following day, Gerald found himself a guest at +the pleasant suburban home of Mr. Sharpe, and his maiden sister, Rachel.</p> + +<p>He was not at all sorry to leave the gloomy house of his uncle behind +him, for already it seemed to him like a prison.</p> + +<p>Miss Sharpe's welcome consisted of a peck on the cheek, intended for +a kiss, and a limp handshake, but what was lacking on her part, her +little niece supplied. Doris Maxwell, a child of about six years of +age—and not at all troubled with shyness—came forward, and put her +arms around his neck, as she would have done to one of her own little +brothers.</p> + +<p>Gerald was a little taken aback first of all, but he came to the +conclusion that she was a very nice little girl.</p> + +<p>The two children soon became great friends, and the merry games they +played helped Gerald to forget his grief awhile.</p> + +<p>"You 'are' a kind boy," said the little maid to him, after a friendship +of twenty-four hours. "You don't tease me, nor poke my dollie's eyes +in, nor nothing."</p> + +<p>Gerald grew rosy with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Do your brothers tease you then?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Drefful. I can't 'tell' you all the naughty things they do," said +Doris, opening wide her brown eyes with righteous indignation.</p> + +<p>To further gain the little lady's approval, Gerald bethought himself of +what he could give her for a present.</p> + +<p>Feeling in his pocket, he drew forth one of his chief possessions, a +little knife. It was a great sacrifice on Gerald's part, and he looked +at it lingeringly before parting with it.</p> + +<p>"I am going to give you a present, 'cause we're friends, you and me."</p> + +<p>"What is it? Oh, a knife! How lovely, Gerald, but I 'spect I must hide +it away from Aunt Rachel. She is a very 'culiar lady, and might take it +from me; she isn't half so kind as Uncle Wilfrid. Is your uncle nice, +Gerald?" inquired the child, with some curiosity in her tone.</p> + +<p>Gerald scarcely knew at first how to answer this very communicative +little girl. "I don't know, I hope he is," he said, with a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"Don't 'spect he is, for I heard my grandpa say he was a reg'lar +heathen."</p> + +<p>"Heathen?" repeated Gerald in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes, p'raps you don't know what they are. Well, I'll tell you! +Heathens is black, and they have little idols, which they says their +prayers to. Mother told me, so I know it's true. Is your uncle black?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Gerald, bursting into a merry laugh, which would have +cheered his mother's heart could she have heard it.</p> + +<p>Doris looked disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Oh well, perhaps he'll turn black by-and-by; anyhow I know he's a +heathen, 'cause grandpa says so, and he knows everything. He's so +'very' old, nearly a thousand years, I should think."</p> + +<p>"What a funny old man he must be!" said Gerald, bubbling over with +amusement.</p> + +<p>"I shall come and see you one day, 'cause I love you very much," said +Doris after a slight pause, for a brilliant idea had just occurred to +her mind.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps my uncle won't let you come," answered Gerald a little sadly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes he will, I shall come with Uncle Wilfrid, see if I don't, +and—" here the child lowered her voice mysteriously—"we will try and +find the idol what he prays to."</p> + +<p>Gerald began to think that Doris was the dearest and funniest little +girl he had ever met, and he was quite comforted to think there might +be a chance of meeting her again at his uncle's house.</p> + +<p>The days spent at Mr. Sharpe's pretty suburban home, passed all too +quickly away, and it was with regret he bade "good bye" to new friends.</p> + +<p>Doris came to the gate to see the last of him, and called out in her +childish treble, "I'll be sure to come and see you, Gerald, and the +heathen as well. I wish he was black, though!"</p> + +<p>"Gracious!" said Miss Rachel. "What 'does' the child mean?" But hearing +at that moment from cook that the kitchen chimney was on fire, she +puzzled her brains no more about the subject.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>IN DISGRACE.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>SIR HERBERT returned from the Continent, eager to commence the training +which he considered advisable for his future heir. A competent tutor +was engaged to give him lessons daily, and many were the restrictions +imposed upon the child. After the freedom of his home life, the boy +felt the change greatly, and pined like a bird in captivity.</p> + +<p>No Scripture lessons were allowed, and but for good Mrs. Webster's +influence, the child would have been discouraged to say his morning and +evening prayers, for Sir Herbert believed in none of these things. He +found the lad tolerably submissive, and was congratulating himself on +the success of his system of education, little dreaming that the boy +was chafing even as a prisoner in the house of bondage.</p> + +<p>One day in the midst of Gerald's lessons, a tap was heard at the +schoolroom door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said the tutor, and in walked a little figure, with merry +brown eyes, and curly hair.</p> + +<p>Gerald at once recognised her as his little friend Doris Maxwell, and +sprung forward to greet her. In the presence of his tutor she only +nodded and smiled, then turning to the tall, scholarly-looking young +man, she addressed her remarks to him.</p> + +<p>"Please what is your name?" she said, commencing her catechism at once.</p> + +<p>"I am Marmaduke Trevor, little maid, this young gentleman's tutor," he +answered pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"What a funny name!" said the irrepressible Doris. "It 'minds me of +marmalade."</p> + +<p>Gerald laughed, but the tutor looked grave, as if he considered Doris +rather an impudent little girl, though the child really meant no +disrespect.</p> + +<p>"Please I've come with a message, Mr. 'Marmaluke.' Gerald's uncle says +he wishes him to have a little holiday, and come out in the garden with +me."</p> + +<p>Sir Herbert's slightest wish being a command, the tutor dismissed his +pupil, and smiled to see what an utterly different boy he was in the +companionship of this little girl, from the repressed, serious child +who usually looked as though there was an ache in his heart for his +absent mother.</p> + +<p>Glad peals of laughter presently rang out in the garden below, and so +merry were the children's voices, that they made quite a pleasant break +in the business conversation which was going on in the library between +Sir Herbert and the lawyer; at least, such was the opinion of the +latter gentleman.</p> + +<p>After lunch, of which the children partook with their elders, and +behaved with the utmost propriety (although there were times when Sir +Herbert found Doris's inquiring gaze almost embarrassing), the boy and +girl went upstairs to the deserted schoolroom, as the little apartment +in which Gerald did his studies was called. Here they amused themselves +looking over a certain picture book, which Gerald's mother had given +him on his eighth birthday.</p> + +<p>"There's our uncles walking round the garden," said Doris, after a +while, craning her neck to look out of the window on to the small patch +of ground, which was all Sir Herbert's town residence could boast in +the way of garden. "Now shall we go and look for the idol?" murmured +Doris, mysteriously.</p> + +<p>"What idol?" said Gerald, little dreaming of the importance the +imaginative child had placed on her grandfather's words.</p> + +<p>"The one your uncle bows down to," she answered; "surely you 'member +what I told you."</p> + +<p>"Doris, what a little goose you are!" laughed Gerald.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a goose, and you're a rude boy," she said, with a pout, and a +suggestion of tears in her voice. "If you don't come, I shall go all by +myself," she added.</p> + +<p>Now I fear Doris was a naughty spoilt child, for she certainly on this +day led Gerald to be guilty of his first act of disobedience.</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you, Doris," he said, anxious to appease the offended +little lady, and the two children started off on a voyage of discovery, +Doris leading the way.</p> + +<p>Gerald followed until they came to the library, the door of which stood +partly open.</p> + +<p>"I'm going in here, Gerald; 'spect that's where he keeps it," said the +child.</p> + +<p>Now Gerald had been forbidden to enter the library at any time without +his uncle's permission, and fearful of disregarding the stern order, he +stood for a moment hesitatingly on the threshold.</p> + +<p>A little scream of delight from Doris made him enter.</p> + +<p>Before an Indian cabinet stood the little girl, her brown eyes wide +open with wonder and surprise.</p> + +<p>"I've found it! I've found it! There's the idol what your uncle +worships. Oh, Gerald! What a hid'ous old thing."</p> + +<p>There on the top of the cabinet, amongst other treasures, was placed +a small heathen god, brought from India as a curiosity some years +previously by Sir Herbert after a brief stay in that country.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch it, Doris," cried Gerald in alarm; "uncle would be 'so' +angry!"</p> + +<p>"I shall just see what it's made of," said the child, taking the little +image into her hands to examine it.</p> + +<p>By this time Gerald was in a fever of fright, and snatching the +treasure from Doris, was about to replace it, when Sir Herbert himself +entered the room.</p> + +<p>Every particle of colour forsook the cheeks of the boy, and he looked +as though convicted of some terrible crime.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle is ready for you, Doris," said Sir Herbert with great +dignity, and feeling like a very naughty child—as indeed she was—Doris +hastily left the library.</p> + +<p>"I will speak to you later, Gerald, about this matter. Meanwhile you +can go up to the schoolroom and remain there until Mr. Sharpe and his +niece have left."</p> + +<p>In a short space of time, Gerald heard the sound of carriage wheels +departing, and then he knew that his hour of judgment was come.</p> + +<p>A message was despatched to the schoolroom, summoning him to come at +once to the library, and tremblingly the boy obeyed.</p> + +<p>Sir Herbert stood facing the door, with a small cane in his hand, as +Gerald entered the room.</p> + +<p>"What excuse have you to offer, Gerald, for this disgraceful act of +disobedience!" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Deep down in his cold, worldly heart, he was becoming attached to the +little fellow who submitted himself so patiently to his rule, though +Sir Herbert little knew the depths of love and passion of which the +sensitive, fragile boy was capable.</p> + +<p>Gerald hesitated as to whether he might not justify himself by throwing +the blame on to his little companion, but to his childish sense of +honour, such a course of action was inexcusable, for was not Doris his +chosen friend?</p> + +<p>No, he would bear whatever punishment Sir Herbert might inflict, for he +knew that if the blame were to fall upon Doris, never again would she +be permitted to be his playmate and companion.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," began the child.</p> + +<p>"So am I, as I hoped and believed I could trust you. What would your +mother say to such an act of disobedience?"</p> + +<p>The boy's lip quivered, but Sir Herbert was merciless.</p> + +<p>"I intend you shall obey me in everything whilst you are in my house. +'Implicit obedience,' remember! And for this act I shall punish you."</p> + +<p>Now Gerald in all his young life had never once been beaten, and he +had a babyish fear of the cane. His father had been too indolent to +put himself out in any way, and his young loving mother had ruled him +entirely by the law of kindness; therefore corporal punishment was to +him a revelation, and a very unpleasant one too.</p> + +<p>"Don't beat me, 'please,' Uncle Herbert, I'll never do it again!" +pleaded the boy, with a deep sob in his voice.</p> + +<p>"No, my lad, I don't think you will, but I shall whip you all the same."</p> + +<p>It was not a cruel, merciless beating which Gerald had to endure, but +the shame and humiliation of it all, entered like iron into his soul.</p> + +<p>"He bore it like a man, ay and a gentleman," said Sir Herbert long +afterwards, when remorse and sorrow had touched his heart, for the +punishment he had so hastily bestowed.</p> + +<p>Banishment for the rest of the day followed his chastisement, and by +his uncle's desire, the culprit's meals were served in his bedroom.</p> + +<p>"I can't eat anything, thank you, Hilda," he said, when the +good-natured girl brought him up his supper.</p> + +<p>"Do now, Master Gerald, dearie. Here's a lovely piece of sponge cake, +which cook made on purpose, knowing as you was fond of it. Come, do +try, you'll feel ever so much better when you've eaten it, and had a +good drink of milk."</p> + +<p>To please Hilda, the child made an effort to eat, and was really +refreshed and comforted, both by the meal, and the girl's tender +sympathy combined. Having said his prayers, which, faithful to the +promise he had given his mother, were never forgotten, he laid his +weary little head on the pillow, and very soon the deep sobs were +hushed to the calm even breathing of childhood's peaceful slumber.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>DORIS MAXWELL'S LETTER.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>A MASS of correspondence awaited Sir Herbert's perusal, and amongst the +heap of letters was one addressed to him in a round, childish hand.</p> + +<p>Something unusual about the envelope caused him to open this letter +first of all, and he was in the midst of reading it, when Gerald made +his appearance in the breakfast room, on the morning which followed his +disgrace.</p> + +<p>A curt greeting was all that Sir Herbert bestowed on the child, but as +he folded his letter, and put it back into the envelope, he looked at +the boy with a softened expression in his eyes, and felt a slight pang +of reproach, as he marked the pale cheeks and heavy eyes of the little +lad.</p> + +<p>Gerald proceeded with his breakfast in silence, for he knew better than +to interrupt Sir Herbert during the reading of his correspondence, +besides which he was too sore at heart for conversation.</p> + +<p>The business letter having been disposed of, Sir Herbert once more took +up the childish epistle, and read it through carefully. The spelling +was somewhat quaint, but then so was the little writer, and cold and +worldly as he was, he could not fail to be touched with the sincerity +of the letter. It was as follows:—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "DEER SIR HERBET,—pleese do not be angery with gerild, it was all my +folt that we went into your libery and looked at the little idle what +you wership. gerild was afrade to disobey you, only I made him come. +Pleese let us be frends still, and we wont never do it again. Nurse is +helping me to spell the long words, as I cant rite a letter all alone. +Good bye sir herbet.—Yours truely, DORIS."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Somehow this letter pleased him, and he felt quite kindly disposed +towards the little writer, although her reference to the "idle" +somewhat puzzled him. He determined however to get to the root of the +matter.</p> + +<p>"What made Doris so anxious to go into my library yesterday?" he +demanded of his nephew.</p> + +<p>Sir Herbert required the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the +truth, and the least deviation from this path was ever a matter of the +keenest annoyance to him.</p> + +<p>Gerald hesitated a moment, thinking that were his uncle to know all +that Doris had said, he would indeed be angry.</p> + +<p>His mother's precepts again seemed to ring in his ears, and truth +prevailed.</p> + +<p>"Because, uncle, she wished to see the idol."</p> + +<p>"How came she to know I possessed one?"</p> + +<p>"She did not know, only 'spected it."</p> + +<p>"But what made her suspect such an extraordinary thing?"</p> + +<p>Sir Herbert felt that there was a mystery somehow, and he was more than +ever determined to unravel it.</p> + +<p>"Because—" and here the boy's voice trembled a little, for fear of +the effect his words would have upon his questioner—"because her +grandfather said—"</p> + +<p>"Said what? Speak out."</p> + +<p>"You were a heathen."</p> + +<p>There was perfect silence, and at length Sir Herbert, finishing his +breakfast somewhat abruptly, rose from the table; then turning to the +child, he said quite gently, "There is an old French saying, my boy, +which means, translated into English—'Do the right, come what may.' If +you continue to go on as you have begun, I shall one day be proud of my +nephew."</p> + +<p>Gerald was utterly astounded. These were the first words of +commendation he had yet received from his uncle, and the boy, who had +expected nothing less than an outburst of wrath, in return for his +candour, was immensely relieved.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this event, preparations were made for Sir Herbert +Weston's return to his country home, The Towers, which was situated in +a picturesque village in the county of Suffolk.</p> + +<p>With a childish love of variety, Gerald was quite looking forward to +seeing the beautiful home, about which Mrs. Webster had told him.</p> + +<p>His tutor was to accompany him, as Sir Herbert considered regularity in +lessons a most important part in his system of education, and he had +great faith in Mr. Marmaduke Trevor's abilities.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The first breath of autumn was in the air, and the leaves quivered on +the branches, as though they knew their summer prime was over.</p> + +<p>In the days which followed, Gerald saw but little of his uncle, as +there were frequently large shooting parties at The Towers. Mr. Trevor +employed much of his leisure time in studying up for an examination; +thus, the boy felt his life to be somewhat of a lonely one.</p> + +<p>His spirits, owing to the healthy life which he led, were higher than +in other days. And occasionally, he resented even Mrs. Webster's +control, although fear of his uncle made him most submissive when he +was near.</p> + +<p>Hilda was not at all satisfied with the change in her young charge.</p> + +<p>"He's getting that masterful, I soon shan't be able to manage him at +all," she complained to Mrs. Webster.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Hilda, he is only growing a bit more 'spirity,' like other +boys. He wants companions, only of course the master thinks, and +rightly too, there are no children about here for him to associate +with." Thus spoke Mrs. Webster who had grown to love the lonely child.</p> + +<p>And Hilda was silenced, but not convinced.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could go fishing, Hilda," said Gerald one sunny September +morning.</p> + +<p>"'Taint no use wishing, Master Gerald," answered the girl; "you know +the master wouldn't let you go."</p> + +<p>"Mother would let me go if she was here."</p> + +<p>"Pity she ain't, Master Gerald; maybe you'd be a bit more easy to +manage if she was."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I am 'really' a naughty boy, Hilda?" inquired Gerald, +rather anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly naughty, Master Gerald, only you are a bit too fond of +your own way."</p> + +<p>Gerald was silent for a time, thinking out the matter. If his mother +were but near, he thought, how he would fling his arms around her neck, +and tell her he had tried to be good, only somehow it was so hard.</p> + +<p>Never once had he forgotten his prayers, and it was a well-known fact +in the household that "Master Gerald spoke the truth," but the little +lad had yet to learn the fact that whatever might happen, God was +watching over him.</p> + +<p>The foregoing conversation took place in the orchard, under an old +spreading tree, where a swing was placed. This was a very favourite +spot of Gerald's, and he spent much of his leisure time there.</p> + +<p>"Don't your little brothers go fishing?" he inquired, returning to the +first subject of conversation.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my brother Bob is a real good little fisherman."</p> + +<p>"How does he manage it, Hilda?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he has a rod and line and a little tin of worms. Ugh! Nasty +things. He baits his hook with dough sometimes, but more often with +them wriggling worms."</p> + +<p>To the town-bred child, the idea of a rod and line and a day's fishing +seemed the most perfect enjoyment possible, and his enthusiasm reached +such a pitch that he determined to ask his uncle to let him go.</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not," was the crushing reply when he proffered his +request. "That's how your father fooled away his time, as a young man. +Stick to your lessons, boy; they are better for you than fiddling with +a rod and line."</p> + +<p>Never dreaming but that he would be implicitly obeyed, Sir Herbert +thought no more of the matter.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>A week passed away, and to Gerald's delight, his old friend Mr. Wilfrid +Sharpe came down to see his uncle, and lunched at The Towers.</p> + +<p>The old lawyer complimented Sir Herbert on the appearance of the child, +and indeed Gerald Weston looked a very different specimen from the +pale-faced boy he had met only a few months previously.</p> + +<p>"He looks well, certainly," said Sir Herbert, with a pleased expression +on his face.</p> + +<p>It was Saturday afternoon, and therefore a half-holiday, and Gerald, +thinking that his uncle and Mr. Sharpe would be engaged in business +matters, considered his opportunity had arrived at last for a fishing +expedition.</p> + +<p>Already, without saying a word to anyone, he had bought himself a +little rod and line with his pocket money.</p> + +<p>The worms, however, had been a more difficult matter, but Jones the +gardener had managed this, after a little persuasion. Thus equipped +with all the necessaries for juvenile fishing, Gerald crept by stealth +out of the garden gate, and making his way through the meadows, he soon +reached the stream where the fish were swimming merrily, unconscious of +their fate.</p> + +<p>Several other lads, whose ages varied from eight to twelve, were +there already, and Gerald, joining the little party, soon commenced +operations.</p> + +<p>To his intense delight, he caught several perch and gudgeon, during the +happy hours-which followed.</p> + +<p>At length, feeling both tired and hungry, he began to think of tea-time.</p> + +<p>Sir Herbert and Mr. Sharpe were wending their way across the meadows +deep in conversation.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sharpe," Sir Herbert was saying, in a smoothly complacent tone of +voice, "the boy will do; he has the making of a man in him. He has more +'grit' than his father ever had, and I have fully decided to make him +my heir."</p> + +<p>"I'm right glad, Sir Herbert," answered the lawyer. "I took to the +child from the first. He has grown into a noble-looking boy, and +certainly does you infinite credit."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the baronet, with a smile of self-satisfaction. "I am quite +satisfied with my method of training; he is ever most obedient and +submissive to my will."</p> + +<p>At this moment, turning a corner of the meadow, Sir Herbert and Mr. +Sharpe came suddenly upon the little group of fishermen.</p> + +<p>"I've caught another!" cried a clear young voice, in a tone of ecstasy.</p> + +<p>Alas! In a moment Sir Herbert recognised it to be that of his young +nephew.</p> + +<p>Suddenly catching sight of the two gentlemen, Gerald let fall his rod +and line (from which dangled a poor helpless little gudgeon), and grew +white to the lips, convicted of an act of wilful disobedience.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>"PROFESSOR" WRAGGS, THE SHOWMAN.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"MY orders, Mrs. Webster, are to be obeyed."</p> + +<p>"But, sir, doesn't it seem a little hard?"</p> + +<p>"Hard, or otherwise, my will is law; till my return, Master Weston +is to remain a prisoner in his room. His meals may be served in the +dining-room as usual, but I forbid one member of my household to hold +conversation with him, save yourself." And with a haughty expression on +his face, Sir. Herbert abruptly turned away.</p> + +<p>The carriage which was to convey him to the station already stood at +the gate. It was the evening of the same day on which Gerald had so +grievously offended, and Sir Herbert was on the point of returning to +town with Mr. Sharpe on an important matter of business. The lawyer +saw that it was of little use to plead for the lad, but Gerald, now +bitterly repentant, begged to be forgiven.</p> + +<p>"I cannot forgive you yet, Gerald," he said, as he coldly repulsed him, +"neither shall I be able to trust you again. When I return on Monday, I +shall decide on what punishment to inflict."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be shut up alone, uncle. I can't bear it," half sobbed +the child. "Won't you forgive me this once?"</p> + +<p>As though scorning the boy's distress, he utterly ignored his plea, and +Gerald's heart grew hard within him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sharpe, who was a witness of the scene, forbore to make any remark, +but his heart was sore for the unhappy child.</p> + +<p class="thought"> +***** +</p> + +<p>The Punch and Judy Showman and his wife were at tea, and right well +were they enjoying the meal.</p> + +<p>"Season pretty well over now," said the man, "Professor" Wraggs, as he +styled himself; "guess we'll have to make a move soon."</p> + +<p>"Bless you, Bob! There are plenty of people down at the sea yet. We +made a tidy little sum yesterday; you ain't content with your mercies."</p> + +<p>"Well, old gal, I daresay you're right. Here, Toby!—" This was +addressed to the show dog—"You must have your share."</p> + +<p>And so saying, he threw a choice morsel to the clever little animal, +whose daily performance at a certain sea-side town on the Suffolk +coast, was the delight of a crowd of children.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Little chap, what do you want?" said the "Professor" to a +tired-looking boy of about nine years of age, who stood for a moment +watching them.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>"HULLO! LITTLE CHAP, WHAT DO YOU WANT?"</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"I'm hungry, that's all," answered the lad, rather wearily.</p> + +<p>"Hungry! What, with them nice clothes on yer!" said the man in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Lo! Bob, he can't eat his clothes. Come here, little chap," added +the woman, addressing the child, "I'll give you a slice of bread and +butter; after that, you can run home to your ma."</p> + +<p>"I can't, she's too far away, and I've nobody to care for me now."</p> + +<p>The boy, who was none other than Gerald Weston, munched his bread and +butter as if it were the choicest delicacy he had ever eaten, and well +he might, for it was many hours since he had tasted a good meal.</p> + +<p>The woman gazed at the boy with an expression almost amounting to +tenderness. Only the week before, the worthy couple had followed their +only son, a lad of about Gerald's age, to the quiet cemetery, and +something about his face reminded her of the child she had lost. A +whispered consultation then followed between the husband and wife.</p> + +<p>"Just the very thing!" murmured the showman, eyeing the boy up and +down, as he sat there enjoying his bread and butter.</p> + +<p>Presently the woman said aloud, "How would you like to stay with us, my +boy; we'll give you a home and shelter."</p> + +<p>Gerald's eyes sparkled, and without waiting to think a second time, he +accepted the offer.</p> + +<p>"But what about mother?" thought the child a minute later. "I will +write her a letter, to tell her where I am. And perhaps when she knows +all, she will come and fetch me."</p> + +<p>And in due time the letter was written, but his mother, an English +governess in a continental city, never received that childish effusion, +for Mrs. Wraggs, to whom it was given to post, forgot all about doing +so, and the unfortunate missive was lost amongst the stage properties +of the Punch and Judy Show.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE MISSING CHILD.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"WHAT is the matter, Sir Herbert? I fear you've had bad news."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens! Sharpe, it's appalling."</p> + +<p>The baronet stood with an open telegram in his trembling hand, with a +look of fear and dread in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"The west wing of The Towers was partially destroyed by fire last +night, and Gerald is missing. And I left him in anger!" said Sir +Herbert in acute distress.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sharpe was greatly shocked, but equal to the occasion. He rung the +bell imperatively, and gave orders for a cab to be brought round at +once. A few hours later, and the two gentlemen were on the scene, where +the conflagration had taken place.</p> + +<p>"What has become of my nephew?" sternly demanded Sir Herbert of the +housekeeper.</p> + +<p>"Heaven only knows, sir," said the woman, with the tears streaming down +her face. "We made every effort to save him. At the first outbreak of +fire, I went to his room, which, as you know, sir, was in the west +wing. Already it was filling with smoke, and I feared he must be +suffocated. But he was nowhere to be seen, search as we might—for we +all did our utmost, sir, indeed, we did, when we knew his little life +was in danger. It is feared that he was overcome by the smoke on the +landing, and—"</p> + +<p>Good Mrs. Webster's sobs checked her further utterance, but Sir Herbert +had heard enough to fear the worst, and he groaned in his despair. For +though he knew it not, the child had grown into his heart and life.</p> + +<p>The overheating of a flue was said to be the cause of the fire, which +but for its comparatively early discovery, would have wrought even +greater damage to the ancestral home of Sir Herbert Weston. The shock +proved to be more than he knew how to bear, and for some days the +baronet was too seriously indisposed to do more than lie passive in the +doctor's hands.</p> + +<p>The terrible fate which he feared had overtaken the child, and remorse +for the hardness with which he had treated him, weighed upon Sir +Herbert so terribly that for a time the good doctor was afraid lest +his brain should be affected, and he advised a complete change for his +patient, as soon as he should be well enough to travel.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>To account for Gerald's disappearance, we must return to the Sunday +which followed the day whereon he had so grievously displeased his +uncle. The lad's high spirit chafed against the punishment accorded to +him, and upon thinking the matter over, he made up his mind that when +opportunity occurred, he would leave The Towers secretly, and for ever.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Webster, who sincerely pitied the child, despite his disobedience, +kissed him that night with more tenderness than usual, and the kindness +touched his heart. Leaning his head on her shoulder, he broke into a +passion of sobs.</p> + +<p>"I can't be good here, without mother; I'm growing worser every day. +Oh! If only Uncle Herbert would send me back to her again."</p> + +<p>"Come, Master Weston, my dear, this won't do; you must be a good boy, +for your mother's sake. You know it was really very naughty of you to +disobey the master; wasn't it now?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it was, only I don't seem to care," said the boy, in +reckless abandonment of grief.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, my laddie, you 'do' care," answered the good woman gently.</p> + +<p>"If Uncle Herbert was only as kind to me as you are, I would always be +a good boy, but—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Webster, fearful of another outburst of tears, softly interrupted +him,—</p> + +<p>"It is time now for you to say your prayers, my dear, and then you must +go to sleep. When your uncle comes home on Monday, you will be able to +tell him how sorry you are, and he will forgive you right enough."</p> + +<p>With a more cheerful tone than her convictions warranted, Mrs. Webster +left her young charge, settled as she thought for the night.</p> + +<p>But Gerald had other plans, for an hour or two later, he slipped +quietly out of bed. And hastily dressing himself, he made his simple +preparations for departure.</p> + +<p>Taking his little purse, which contained just one half-crown, he +managed with great caution to leave the house unobserved. It was +moonlight, therefore the night to the solitary child was robbed of its +terrors. He made his way across the meadows, tramping on and on till +he was both footsore and weary. The plans which he had formed in his +childish mind were these: To make his way to the station about three +miles distant, and take a ticket there for the sea-side town of A. +which was the nearest watering-place to the village where The Towers +was situated.</p> + +<p>In his ignorance, he imagined that once by the sea-side, he would have +no difficulty in finding a steamer which would bear him across the +Channel. As regarded the payment of his passage, he fondly hoped that +by referring the captain to his mother's address, which he carried in +his pocket, all would be well.</p> + +<p>"Mother will pay him all right," thought he.</p> + +<p>Alas! Poor Gerald had much to learn in worldly wisdom.</p> + +<p>How silent it all was in the peaceful September moonlight. The birds +long ago were hushed to sleep, and only the winds whispered in the +leafy branches. The stars gleamed faintly in the cloud-flecked sky, +overcome by the brilliance of the great round moon.</p> + +<p>Gerald at length, becoming too tired to proceed on his journey, sat +down beneath an old tree, and leaned his head against the trunk.</p> + +<p>The heavy eyelids would fain have closed in sleep, but with an effort, +he roused himself. It seemed to his overwrought imagination that the +twinkling stars looked down upon him with reproving gaze, and this, +added to the feeling of utter desolation, brought the bitter tears to +his eyes. How dreary his young life seemed to him now that his mother +was so far away; he almost cherished reproachful thoughts of her—no one +cared, no one was near to love and protect him.</p> + +<p>"Remember that God loves you, and is watching over you!"</p> + +<p>With a mysterious power, his mother's words again seemed to ring in his +ears.</p> + +<p>"God was watching over him! Could it be possible that He, whose Throne +was in Heaven, amid the holy angels, was looking down upon him in love +and pity? Surely not in 'love,' for he had been so naughty." Thus +reasoned the desolate child.</p> + +<p>Then feeling his utter need of 'some' one to care for him, his cry went +up beyond the shadows of earthly night, to Him who is the Friend of +little children.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "O God!" he pleaded. "I am afraid to go back. I know I've been wicked, +but please forgive me, and take care of me, for Jesus' sake. Amen."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>It seemed to him that after his prayer, the stars looked at him more +kindly. And in a very few minutes, the tired child was fast asleep.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>When he awoke, the sun had already mounted the heavens, and at first +Gerald wondered what had happened, and how he came to be out of doors, +with a green field for his resting-place.</p> + +<p>Then it all flashed upon him, and vigorously rubbing his eyes, he arose +from his mossy couch, feeling slightly stiff but considerably refreshed +by his long sleep. Then he trudged on, making his way to the nearest +station. On his arrival there, he was conscious of feeling very hungry, +and spent part of his small store in buying himself a roll and a cup of +coffee at a stall close by the station, which was opened early for the +benefit of workmen.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, he took his ticket for A., and a train being due for +that place, in a very short time the boy was on his way thither.</p> + +<p>Gerald had never known the delights of a sea-side holiday, and the +glorious expanse of water sparkling in the sunshine was a revelation to +him. Once there, he very soon made his way down to the beach, where the +sight of the children at play with spade and pail amused him so much +that for a while he forgot his troubles. Towards mid-day he began to +feel hungry again, and remembering he had but one solitary half-penny +left in his purse, after paying his fare, he pondered in his mind the +best method of spending it.</p> + +<p>He arrived at the conclusion that a bun would be his best purchase, so +seeking out a baker's shop, he bought himself the necessary article.</p> + +<p>The afternoon was a dreary one for him; his penniless condition made +him feel for the first time how foolish as well as wrong he had been +in running away from the home his uncle had provided for him. He would +gladly have gone on to the pier, to watch for the steam-boats, but he +had not the wherewithal to do so, and neither had he the courage to +face any captain with his request.</p> + +<p>Feeling both sad and forlorn, Gerald walked aimlessly to the farther +end of the beach, where, as we already know, he was soon befriended by +the Punch and Judy Showman and his wife.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>DISCOVERY.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"HOW do-do, do-do, do-do?" shrieked out the unmusical voice of Mr. +Punch, who came proudly to the front, decked in his gold and spangled +attire. "Don't yer know me, my little dog Toby?"</p> + +<p>Toby, befrilled and unmuzzled, gazed upon Punch with seeming +indifference, and then upon the assembled crowd, as much as to say: +"Did you ever see such a silly old thing in your life?"</p> + +<p>"Shake hands, Toby!" echoed the shrill voice again.</p> + +<p>Toby's paw was held out obediently. "Now the other one, Toby! +Beautiful! Beautiful!" cried Mr. Punch in rapture, winking one of his +great eyes, and forthwith embracing the clever little doggie.</p> + +<p>To Gerald, the Punch and Judy Show was most enthralling, and the +kindness he received from the hands of the good proprietor and his +wife, justified all the golden opinions he had formed of them.</p> + +<p>Finding the boy's manner and appearance a great source of profit to +their coffers—for few could resist the lad as he came round with the +little collecting bag—they tried to make the life as attractive as +possible to him. But try as they would, there was much in it that +jarred against Gerald's sensibilities, and he occasionally longed for +the refined surroundings of his uncle's home.</p> + +<p>The novelty of his existence very soon wore off, and though he did +not care to show his reluctance, he grew at last to hate the task of +collecting the money.</p> + +<p>After he had been about ten days with "Professor" Wraggs and his wife, +a delightful event took place. He was going round as usual, during the +performance, with his bag, when a clear young voice fell upon his ear.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Wilfrid," said a child, on the verge of the crowd, "dear Uncle +Wilfrid, do stop and see the Punch and Judy Show!"</p> + +<p>"'You' may, little one, if you like. Nurse will take care of you, while +I go to buy a paper. I'll soon be with you again," answered Uncle +Wilfrid.</p> + +<p>And Doris Maxwell, to whom the sad story of Gerald's supposed fate had +never been told, for fear of the shock it would give the tender little +heart, watched the performance, with her merry brown eyes twinkling +with fun.</p> + +<p>Gerald saw with great surprise that his little friend Doris was amongst +the audience, but not caring to be recognised in his new position, +turned his back upon the pretty child and her nurse.</p> + +<p>"May I give that boy with the bag my fripenny-piece, Nurse?"</p> + +<p>"A penny is quite enough, dearie," said Nurse, with an air of wisdom.</p> + +<p>Not waiting for the boy's approach, she slipped away from her nurse, +and was about to drop the silver coin—for Doris was self-willed as +ever—into the bag, when glancing up, she saw the face of her friend and +former playmate, Gerald Weston.</p> + +<p>"Gerald, oh, Gerald!" she cried in surprised delight.</p> + +<p>The boy turned crimson with shame at the recognition, although he felt +a keen sense of pleasure in again seeing his little friend.</p> + +<p>But business was business, and Mrs. Wraggs noticed that something +unusual had taken place, and that the attention of some of the +bystanders was diverted from the Show. This could not be allowed to go +on, and calling the boy to her side, she took the collecting bag out +of his hand and bade him remain at the back of the Show, whilst she +undertook his duties. With a lingering look at Doris, he obeyed.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, Mr. Sharpe appeared upon the scene, and to him +Doris told her story.</p> + +<p>"Impossible, my dear, impossible!" he said, though wherefore he dared +not tell her.</p> + +<p>"But, uncle, I know it was Gerald." And in distress at his unbelief, +the child's eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>At the conclusion of the Show, Mr. Sharpe, at his little niece's urgent +request, made the acquaintance of the "Professor," desiring to see the +lad whose business it was to collect the money. And feeling it was +useless to deny the wish of such an important looking gentleman, the +man gave Gerald a call.</p> + +<p>"Gerry, my lad, you're wanted!"</p> + +<p>The similarity of the names gave Mr. Sharpe a slight shock. Could it be +possible that Doris was right after all? The boy, who was standing at +some little distance, obeyed the call. Upon seeing Mr. Sharpe, he gave +a glad look of recognition, but the eyes, instead of looking at him in +the old genial manner, had an expression of sternness therein, although +deep down in his heart the lawyer was conscious of a feeling of great +relief and thankfulness.</p> + +<p>"You must come home with me, Gerald, at once," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I will, only 'please' don't send me back to Uncle Herbert."</p> + +<p>"We don't want to part with him, sir; he's a very good lad to us," said +Mrs. Wraggs, who had joined the little group.</p> + +<p>"How came he to be under your care?" demanded the lawyer.</p> + +<p>Then the whole story was truthfully told.</p> + +<p>And Mr. Sharpe, feeling that the showman and his wife had acted the +part of Good Samaritans, acquitted them of all blame; nay more, he +amply rewarded them out of his own pocket for the care they had +bestowed upon Sir Herbert Weston's runaway heir.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>MADAME FAIVRE.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE Towers was in the hands of workmen, who were busy repairing the +damage wrought by the fire. In the meantime, Sir Herbert was in +town, making preparations for a foreign tour. It was already growing +autumnal; the golden September days had given place to chill October, +and Sir Herbert, feeling still somewhat of an invalid, sat by the fire, +after his solitary breakfast was over, reading a letter which, to judge +by his expression, caused him considerable agitation.</p> + +<p>It was at this moment when a tap was heard at the door, and Mr. Sharpe +entered the room.</p> + +<p>"You are an early visitor this morning, but none the less welcome, +Sharpe," said the baronet, with an effort at cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>"My business was urgent, Sir Herbert, which is my only apology for +coming at this hour. You're not looking the thing—no fresh trouble, I +hope?"</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps not a trouble in one sense, but I have had a letter from +my sister-in-law this morning about the boy. She wants to see him. God +help me! What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>The man in his extremity called upon the Name he had for so many long +years disregarded.</p> + +<p>"I've never had the courage to write and tell her of her loss. I know +it was wrong, but believe me, Sharpe, I have felt too wretchedly ill, +both in mind and body, to undertake the task. I have meant to do it +each morning, but my strength has failed me. I am as weak and nerveless +as a child."</p> + +<p>"What does his mother say?" inquired Mr. Sharpe, as he pondered in his +mind how to break the good news he had to tell.</p> + +<p>"She says that she is able to provide a home for him now; a relative +has recently died and left her all his property—read the letter for +yourself," added Sir Herbert, as he gave the epistle into the lawyer's +hand.</p> + +<p>"So she is coming for him at Christmas," said Mr. Sharpe, after reading +it through.</p> + +<p>"Coming! Man, yes! But what shall I say to her? These words seem burnt +upon my brain—'Whoso shall offend one of these little ones . . . it +were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and +that he were drowned in the depth of the sea'—"</p> + +<p>"But Gerald was greatly to blame," said Mr. Sharp, interrupting.</p> + +<p>"I suppose in a sense he was, but what is that child's sin in +comparison with mine?"</p> + +<p>"Would you forgive him 'fully' and 'freely' if he were here to ask you?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive him! Would God he were here to put me to the test."</p> + +<p>"Sir Herbert, Gerald 'is' here, and is only waiting to ask your pardon. +I left him in the hall, whilst I prepared you for his coming."</p> + +<p>"Gerald here!" cried the man, unconsciously raising his voice.</p> + +<p>And the little lad outside the door, thinking he was called, entered, +and Mr. Sharpe went out, and left the two together.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>"UNCLE, DEAR UNCLE, FORGIVE ME,"</b><br> +<b>HALF SOBBED THE BOY.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"Uncle, dear uncle, forgive me. I've been 'very,' 'very' naughty," half +sobbed the boy. And this time he did not plead in vain.</p> + +<p>Words failed the baronet at that moment, but opening his arms, he drew +the agitated child closely into them, and kissed him gently, as a +tender mother might have done. From that time, the heart of Sir Herbert +Weston became soft, even as the heart of a little child.</p> + +<p class="thought"> +***** +</p> + +<p>"So you really mean to leave us at Christmas, Mrs. Weston? Well, I'm +sure I don't know what Marie and Louise will say, when they hear of it!"</p> + +<p>"You are very good, Madame, and I shall never forget the kindness +received from your hands, when I came a stranger into a foreign land."</p> + +<p>Madame Faivre shook her head, and tears gathered in her kindly eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is 'you' who have been good to us, dear Mrs. Weston, and may God +reward you for the wise and gentle influence you have exerted over our +unruly household—mere money can never repay you."</p> + +<p>Poor Madame Faivre was in dire distress at the idea of parting with +her valued governess, to whom both she and her daughters had become +sincerely attached. Being herself of English birth, her affection and +sympathies were readily bestowed upon the lonely woman who had been +thus thrown upon her own resources for her daily bread.</p> + +<p>At this moment, Marie Faivre, a bright, high-spirited girl, of about +twelve years of age, entered the room. Owing to the fact that Marie and +Louise possessed an English mother, they spoke the language fluently.</p> + +<p>"Maman!" ejaculated Marie, seeing Madame Faivre in tears. "What 'is' +the matter?"</p> + +<p>Then for the first time, the tidings of Mrs. Weston's intended +departure was mentioned, and Marie's blank look of dismay testified to +her feelings.</p> + +<p>Louise, who followed Marie into the room shortly afterwards, was also +told the sad news, and she in her grief burst into sudden tears.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, girls, we must not be selfish. Your dear Madame has no +longer any need to earn her living, and we must think of her happiness +in once more seeing her little son, and having him to live with her +again."</p> + +<p>And Madame Faivre, as she thus spoke, briskly wiped her tears away.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston, touched with their affection and kindness of heart, felt +her cup of happiness well-nigh full.</p> + +<p>"Ah, your petit Gerald 'will' be rejoiced," said Marie gently.</p> + +<p>"He will be just as glad as we are sorry," said poor Louise with a deep +sob.</p> + +<p>"My 'dear' Gerald! Oh! How I long to see him," said Mrs. Weston, +forgetful for the moment of the present, as her thoughts roamed +backward to their bitter parting.</p> + +<p>"You'll wait till Christmas, won't you?" cried Louise in selfish +affright.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I promise you that," said Mrs. Weston, feeling that the weeks +would soon pass, and that in justice to her friends, she must give them +time to find another governess to take her place.</p> + +<p>But alas! For the promise she had bestowed—"L'homme propose, Dieu +dispose."</p> + +<p>The day following was a bright October morning, and Mrs. Weston (or +Madame as she was usually called), after despatching a letter to Sir +Herbert Weston to inform him of the change in her fortunes, and her +proposed return to England, sat contentedly in the cheerful schoolroom +preparing lessons.</p> + +<p>For some weeks she had had no news of her child, but still no anxiety +concerning this fact troubled her, for her brother-in-law was a very +occasional correspondent, and seemed to desire as little communication +as possible between mother and son.</p> + +<p>Presently upon lifting her eyes from the book she was studying, +her attention was attracted by an untidy mass of papers near the +fireplace—for Madame Faivre would have no stove in the schoolroom, but +a bright fire blazed away in true English fashion, when the chilly days +rendered it necessary.</p> + +<p>"Rosine must have forgotten these, when she lit the fire," she said, as +she rose to ring the bell.</p> + +<p>But ere doing so, she noticed that one was a part of an old copy of an +English daily paper. In some curiosity she glanced over the columns, +for it was a long time since it had been her lot to see a London +newspaper.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, when Marie entered the schoolroom, what was her +grief and consternation to see her beloved Madame in a dead faint on +the floor, still clutching in her hand the portion of newspaper.</p> + +<p>"Maman! Maman!" cried out poor Marie. "Madame has fainted."</p> + +<p>Louise, who was following close at hand, found it even as her sister +had said, and hastily fetching her mother, together they endeavoured to +restore the poor lady to consciousness.</p> + +<p>Taking the paper from her hands, Madame Faivre read the paragraph which +had caused such bitter distress. It was an account of the fire at The +Towers, Sir Herbert's residence, and the supposed death of poor little +Gerald. Gradually, Mrs. Weston recovered her powers of thought, and +moaned pitifully in her distress:</p> + +<p>"My boy! My little Gerald! Oh, God help me!" cried the unhappy mother.</p> + +<p>"Pauvre Madame!" sobbed the girls in sympathetic grief.</p> + +<p>"What is it, maman, that has made her so ill?" inquired Marie.</p> + +<p>"Read the paper, mes chères, and then run away and leave me alone with +Madame."</p> + +<p>The girls read the ill-fated paragraph with blanched faces.</p> + +<p>"However did such a paper come into the schoolroom?" said little Louise.</p> + +<p>"I can guess," answered Marie; "you know Rosine has an English friend, +and he must have given it to her. Oh! If only poor Madame had never +seen it."</p> + +<p>Ere the day was out, Mrs. Weston had started on her homeward journey, +leaving behind her sad and anxious hearts.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"A telegram, maman, and for Madame," said Marie excitedly, a few hours +after Mrs. Weston's departure.</p> + +<p>"We must open it for her, Marie, as she is not here." And so saying, +Madame Faivre with considerable anxiety read the words contained +therein.</p> + +<p>"Come to England at once. Good news."</p> + +<p>"We must praise the good God for this," said the lady, while tears of +joy and thankfulness rained down her cheeks. "Run and tell Louise the +glad news," added she. "Oh, if Madame could only know!"</p> + +<p>Ah! Could Mrs. Weston but have known, much anguish of heart would have +been spared her. Meanwhile, she was making her way in bitter grief to +England, little recking of how soon her sorrow would be turned into joy.</p> + +<p>Upon arriving in London, she telegraphed to Sir Herbert Weston at The +Towers, but the reply came to the effect that the baronet's whereabouts +were not known, and referred the sender to Mr. Wilfrid Sharpe, 18 Hope +Gardens, Sydenham.</p> + +<p>And thither, without taking any rest, hastened the poor mother, each +step bringing her nearer—could she but have realised it—to happiness +and Gerald.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h2> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>REUNION.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"I HAVE despatched the telegram, Sir Herbert, and we shall very soon +have the lady in England, I fancy."</p> + +<p>"You're a good friend Sharpe—you'll see me through this, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Sir Herbert, only it seems to me your troubles are over now."</p> + +<p>"No, they're not. I have to face the boy's mother, and I don't know +what she'll say to me."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Sir Herbert, keep up your spirit," said the lawyer, +cheerfully. "What is she like—this mother whom Gerald thinks so much +about?"</p> + +<p>"I only remember her as a fragile looking girl of about two or three +and twenty—I haven't seen her now for some years. All our business +concerning the boy was done in writing. She was pretty, too, I fancy."</p> + +<p>"Well, this doesn't sound very alarming. I wish you would come and +lunch with me to-day, and bring Gerald with you. Doris is staying with +me again, and is just crazy to see her Punch and Judy hero, for such +she considers the boy now."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the child won't appreciate lunching with 'the heathen,'" said +the baronet with a smile.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sharpe reddened a little. "I am afraid you must have thought her +very impertinent, but believe me, she never meant it," said the lawyer +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Impertinent! Oh dear no, she only spoke the truth. I 'was' a heathen, +but since the boy's coming, somehow I've felt different. Yet he doesn't +look much like a missionary, does he?"</p> + +<p>A recollection of Gerald, as he dangled the hapless little fish on his +line upon that memorable Saturday flashed across Mr. Sharpe's mind.</p> + +<p>"No, certainly the child bore no resemblance to a missionary, and yet—" +the lawyer's face softened as he recalled a passage from Holy Writ—"'A +little child shall lead them.'"</p> + +<p>There was a pause, which was broken by the baronet.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sharpe, I 'will' accept your invitation, and bring the boy with +me."</p> + +<p>The above conversation took place in Mr. Sharpe's London office, Gerald +in the meanwhile amusing himself very contentedly talking to the chief +clerk about the fish he meant to catch when he was grown up, whilst his +elders were discussing matters of more serious moment in the little +sanctum beyond.</p> + +<p class="thought"> +***** +</p> + +<p>Miss Sharpe was in quite a flutter of excitement, for the baronet was +an honoured, though somewhat unusual guest at her brother's table. +And in the pretty Sydenham villa residence, grand preparations were +speedily made for the illustrious visitor and his little nephew, Mr. +Sharpe with great worldly wisdom and forethought, having despatched a +telegram to his sister, to inform her of the expected arrivals.</p> + +<p>Doris, looking the very pink of propriety, sat next Sir Herbert, for +whom she had conceived quite a respectful affection. Gerald, brimming +over with joy—for was not his mother coming home very soon—was in a +state of mind which bordered on transport.</p> + +<p>Presently a loud ring was heard at the door bell, and a maid shortly +afterwards tapped at the dining-room door and informed Mr. Sharpe that +a lady desired to see him immediately.</p> + +<p>"What name, Henderson?" inquired he.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Weston, please sir."</p> + +<p>There was a sudden rush—the sound of a falling chair, and the maid was +pushed unceremoniously aside.</p> + +<p>Then followed a cry of "Mother, mother."</p> + +<p>And Mr. Sharpe knew that for a little while at least, his presence was +not required in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Joy seldom kills, and the sight of the boy whom she believed never to +behold again with earthly eyes, was in itself such a rapture to Mrs. +Weston that she could do nothing but clasp him in her arms, asking not +the why or wherefore, whilst tears and smiles followed each other in +April-like succession. The bitter resentment she had been cherishing +against Sir Herbert for withholding the fateful news all faded away at +the sight of the little lad in his sailor suit.</p> + +<p>The baronet presently entered the room, his calm self-possession +well-nigh deserting him.</p> + +<p>Instead of the reproaches she had prepared herself to utter, she +grasped his hand, saying brokenly, "God bless you."</p> + +<p>Ah, mothers are not always quite reasonable, and such sweet +inconsistency was very welcome to Sir Herbert Weston's broken and +contrite spirit.</p> + +<p class="thought"> +***** +</p> + +<p>Months and years have passed away since Mrs. Weston's return to +England. It is the season of Christmas, the time of peace and goodwill.</p> + +<p>Gerald and his mother now live together in a charming little residence +called "The Lindens," situated in close proximity to The Towers, a fact +which is largely owing to Sir Herbert's generosity. It is well-known to +those around how deeply attached the baronet is to his young nephew and +heir. And in the lad's eyes, there are few to compare with his uncle, +whom, next to his mother, he regards with deepest affection.</p> + +<p>On the morrow, being Christmas day, there are to be great festivities +at The Towers, and amongst the invited guests, to Gerald's delight, are +Mr. Wilfrid Sharpe and little Doris Maxwell.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Gerald, as they sat together in the firelight listening +to the Yule-tide bells ringing out their message of peace and goodwill, +"I sometimes wonder how little boys get on without any mother to keep +them right."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston rightly conjectured that his mind was reverting to the days +of the past, when he felt his need of her so sorely.</p> + +<p>"You must not forget, my boy, that there is a Love which far exceeds +that of a mother," she answered gently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! That reminds me of what you said to me a long while ago—at +the time we bade 'good bye.'"</p> + +<p>"I remember, Gerald—a time when you gave me a 'three-fold promise.'"</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE END.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +————————————————————————————————<br> +LORIMER AND GILLIES, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79226 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/79226-h/images/image001.jpg b/79226-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3856f1f --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/79226-h/images/image002.jpg b/79226-h/images/image002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f3a9a9 --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/images/image002.jpg diff --git a/79226-h/images/image003.jpg b/79226-h/images/image003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa451f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/images/image003.jpg diff --git a/79226-h/images/image004.jpg b/79226-h/images/image004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..79f76bf --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/images/image004.jpg diff --git a/79226-h/images/image005.jpg b/79226-h/images/image005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b69c2c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/images/image005.jpg diff --git a/79226-h/images/image006.jpg b/79226-h/images/image006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d880ea --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/images/image006.jpg diff --git a/79226-h/images/image007.jpg b/79226-h/images/image007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfbf02c --- /dev/null +++ b/79226-h/images/image007.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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