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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77390 ***
+
+Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
+
+[Illustration: "OH! YOU LITTLE DARLING."]
+
+
+
+                                A
+
+                     CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM:
+
+
+                   THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT;
+
+                               AND
+
+                         ANOTHER MOSES.
+
+
+
+                               BY
+
+                         MARY E. ROPES
+
+
+                          ————————————
+
+
+                             LONDON:
+                       SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION
+                       56, OLD BAILEY, E.C.
+
+
+
+                         [Illustration]
+
+                            CONTENTS.
+
+                         [Illustration]
+
+ THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
+
+     I. This is the House that Jack built
+
+    II. This is the Malt that lay in the House that Jack built
+
+   III. This is the Rat that ate the Malt
+
+    IV. This is the Cat that killed the Rat
+
+     V. This is the Dog that worried the Cat
+
+    VI. This is the Cow with the Crumpled Horn
+
+   VII. This is the Maiden all forlorn
+
+  VIII. This is the Man all tattered and torn
+
+    IX. This is the Priest all shaven and shorn
+
+     X. This is the Cock that crowed in the morn
+
+                          ————
+
+ ANOTHER MOSES
+
+
+
+                         [Illustration]
+
+                         ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+                         [Illustration]
+
+
+ OH! YOU LITTLE DARLING (_Frontispiece_)
+
+ RATCLIFFE, THE PRODIGAL
+
+ WHY DON'T YOU GO?
+
+ I'LL DO AS I CHOOSE
+
+                         [Illustration]
+
+
+
+                    A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM.
+
+
+                   THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
+
+                          ————————————
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+"THIS IS THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT."
+
+THERE it stood, at the corner of the street, the finest public-house in
+the populous neighbourhood of this London suburb. There it stood, with
+its plate-glass windows, and grand swinging doors, and brilliant lights
+at night, and the air of warmth and welcome and cheer, that, like
+the will-o'-the-wisp of the treacherous marsh, lured many a foolish
+wayfarer to ruin.
+
+The place was kept by a man called John Drinkrow, to whom it had been
+bequeathed by his father, who had borne the same name. For a period of
+thirty years, John Drinkrow, the elder, had successfully carried on
+the business; then he died, leaving a considerable fortune, as well
+as the public-house itself, to his only son. During his long life,
+thrifty Jack (as he had been familiarly named) had laid claim to a
+sort of respectability upon which he had prided himself not a little.
+He had always gone to church once every Sunday, had paid his way
+punctually, and, though so much drinking went on under his very eyes,
+he himself was known to be very abstemious. He put his son to a good
+school, and it was not until the lad was sixteen that he suffered him
+to return home and join him in the daily work of the "business," as he
+complacently termed it.
+
+John the younger, grew up resembling his father in some things. Like
+him he was perfectly sober, and proud of his respectability; but the
+thriftiness that had characterised old Jack had turned to miserliness
+in the son, and the passion for hoarding had increased with every year,
+until at the time that our story commences, it was the ruling motive
+of the man's life. He had married at an early age; but after four
+years his wife had died, leaving two little boys, with just a year's
+difference between them.
+
+The children grew up with but little care from any one; the elder,
+Tom, taking after his father in quietness, steadiness, and love of
+hoarding; the younger, Ratcliffe, turning out wild and dissipated, with
+many good impulses, but also with a passionate love of excitement and
+pleasure which led him into bad companionship and into various forms
+of self-indulgence. Though often absent during many hours, for which
+he never accounted, he was still supposed to be living at home; but
+his father's anger and threats had lately become more frequent, and
+Ratcliffe knew that, sooner or later, unless he reformed, he would have
+to quit the parental roof. In the fear of this, he often resolved to
+mend his ways; but mere resolutions with no principle to back them are
+weak things at best, and generally a pressing invitation from some boon
+companion, or a few words of ridicule, were sufficient to tempt him
+back to old haunts and old sins, and the resolutions would be broken.
+
+John Drinkrow's hoarding propensities had prevented his educating
+his sons in a proper manner. Tom, however, had managed to pick up
+some knowledge by reading and study in over-hours; but poor Ratcliffe
+could do little more than read and write, and add up the score of the
+customers at the bar. Thus he was despised and sneered at by his better
+informed brother; and this state of feeling between the two young men
+added not a little to the family trouble and discord.
+
+One evening John Drinkrow was busy with his accounts in the little back
+parlour. His elder son was serving the customers; the younger was out.
+The gaslight shone full upon the old man as he bent with passionate
+intentness over his work; it shone on the hard-worn face with its deep
+lines and furrows, on the keen watchful eye gloating over the week's
+gains—gains not a few, as the long column of figures plainly testified.
+
+Suddenly the door opened and Ratcliffe entered, his face flushed, his
+gait somewhat unsteady. His father looked up, with no welcome but a
+frown on his dark countenance.
+
+"Father," said the young man, approaching the table and laying one hand
+upon it as though to steady himself; "father, it's some time since you
+gave me anything, and I'm hard up."
+
+John did not even glance at his son as the latter spoke; he went on
+adding up his figures and counting his gains.
+
+Ratcliffe waited a moment; then he said—
+
+"Father, did you hear what I said?"
+
+This time the publican looked up, cold, hard, contemptuous.
+
+"Yes, I did hear," replied he, in the unsympathetic, metallic voice
+which might have been borrowed from the chink of his beloved coin;
+"yes, I hear well enough; what of it?"
+
+Ratcliffe's face flushed more deeply. "Why, father," he said, "it's
+ever so long since I came to you for tin; I think you might give me
+some without all this business. I'm sure you've got heaps and needn't
+grudge it. I wouldn't grudge a child of mine a sov. over and above his
+wages now and then, if I'd a strong-room and bags and bags full like
+you."
+
+Now Ratcliffe was excited with drink and vexation, or he would never
+have dared to say all this; for if anything angered John Drinkrow, it
+was an allusion to his truly miserly and very unwise habit of keeping
+his money in coin stowed away in a strong box, in a little room
+expressly arranged for this purpose, and next to his own bedroom.
+
+The words had hardly gone out of Ratcliffe's mouth before his father
+rose and pointed to the door. His menacing wrath was terrible to
+witness, and Ratcliffe, sobered by the sight, his momentary boldness
+gene, staggered away from the table as though struck by a sudden blow.
+
+"Go," said the father; "you have long been a disgrace to your brother
+and me; and I'll bear the burden of a spendthrift no longer. Get you
+gone—where you will; living or dying, I'll have none of you! Get you
+gone!"
+
+"But, father!" cried the young man, with a wild gesture of despair.
+"Father, if you only knew! Oh, 'do' hear me! Hear me out!"
+
+John interrupted him. "No more, I'll hear no more—get you gone!"
+
+"Only one minute, father—God knows I'm—"
+
+The old man's face grew livid with anger; his eyes were ablaze with
+unholy fire. In his excitement he rose and advanced a step with his arm
+outstretched. The son recoiled once more, gave his father one look,
+half of dread, half of defiance, then opened the door and was gone; and
+this was the beginning of great troubles for Ratcliffe himself, and
+also for the master of "the house that Jack built."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+"THIS IS THE MALT THAT LAY IN THE HOUSE
+          THAT JACK BUILT."
+
+A WEEK had passed since Ratcliffe had been driven from his father's
+home, and his name had only once been mentioned between John and his
+elder son. This was on that first day when Tom had asked where his
+brother was, and had received the brief and not unwelcome reply, "He's
+gone, and he'll come back no more."
+
+A week had passed, and now it was night—deep night. The house had been
+closed, and the miser had come up to his strong-room to count his gold.
+His gold was his life now; all natural tenderness and right feeling
+had been consumed out of his heart by this canker. For long enough the
+Bible, given him years ago by his wife, had remained unopened—unopened
+until that morning when, as he took it up to remove it to the
+bookshelves, it opened of its own accord, and his eye had caught the
+words, "The love of money is the root of all evil."
+
+Down went the book on to the floor. Why had this silent messenger been
+sent thus to touch him where he felt it most? Yet he saw no warning in
+the solemn words; he tried not to feel the pricking of the conscience
+that was not yet quite dead, but had leaped up for a moment into
+the light of the great and awful truth as it flashed upon the man's
+unwilling intelligence.
+
+"Well," said he, suddenly recovering himself, "this is the last time
+that I shall ever see anything in this book."
+
+So saying, he raised the Bible once more (for he had dropped it in the
+first surprise that the reading of the text had occasioned him), looked
+at its cover, from which the silver clasp was gone, coldly estimated
+its money value as simply nothing; then, opening a window, he flung the
+volume out on to the dust-heap below.
+
+"There," he had said, sullenly, as he closed the window, "that's the
+last I shall see of you, you printed lie! Catch me ever having another
+Bible in the house!"
+
+But somehow, after he had left the room, and all through the day, the
+words had haunted him; and now again, when the shadows of night were
+about him, the brief sentence rang in his ears like the death knell
+of all faith and hope, "The love of money is the root of all evil;"
+and again other words that came to him like an avenging spirit out of
+the long ago, "How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the
+kingdom of God!"
+
+But John Drinkrow would not yield to these memories. With the
+resolution of a stubborn nature, he strove against them. He did not
+think of the time when death must overtake him, swift, and silent, and
+unrelenting; of a future state where he must reap as he had sown; of
+that eternity whither we can carry nothing, but where the poor and the
+rich in this world's goods will be as though they were alike.
+
+"No one can reproach me with dishonesty or drunkenness," said John, as
+he lighted the one meagre candle which he allowed himself, and buttoned
+his coat that he might not feel the damp chill of the fireless room. "I
+am better than most of my neighbours; I adulterate the beer less than
+many men would in my position, and I've never let my place get a bad
+name. Now that young scamp Ratcliffe is off, the house will be more
+respectable than ever. Tom will never ruin himself or me. He and I are
+of one mind in the matter of saving, and a very good mind it is."
+
+Thus, like the Pharisee of our Lord's parable, this hard old man
+prided himself upon his supposed virtues, and grew yet harder in their
+contemplation, forgetting that it was the poor publican—broken-hearted,
+humble, contrite—who went down to his house justified.
+
+Then the miser unlocked his safe and took out his bags of gold and laid
+them on the table, while into one less full than the rest, he poured
+the week's gains from a large leathern purse that he had brought up
+with him. And now his cold eyes began to kindle and to glitter; the
+unholy passion of avarice—of greed in its meanest form—flushed his
+wrinkled cheeks, and nerved his hands, and he fingered and counted the
+yellow heaps before him, whispering, "Mine! All mine!"
+
+And upstairs, in his own room, Tom—true son of a miser—was following
+his father's example. Stingy as John Drinkrow was, he was obliged
+to pay Tom a salary for his services, and even a small share of the
+profits; and Tom's only pleasure consisted in escaping to his room and
+drawing out of his cashbox the bank-notes and sovereigns he had earned,
+and to which he was steadily adding.
+
+"Now Ratcliffe is gone," said he to himself, "if anything happens to
+the old man, all that he leaves will be mine. I don't believe father
+will ever wish to see him again, but if he should seem as if he wanted
+him back, I will tell him what I have lately found out; and when he
+hears that Ratcliffe has been married on the sly, for ever so long,
+to a girl with no money, or next to none, and that this is what he
+has been doing with himself—let alone his gay life—the old gent will
+never forgive him, I'll be bound. And I shall mind it the less telling
+him all this, because of my having had a fancy for that girl myself
+once upon a time, and she wouldn't have anything to say to me. Ah! She
+waited for something better; and now she's got a treasure, and I wish
+her joy of him. But I owe them both a grudge for this, and I'll pay it
+some day."
+
+These thoughts, and thoughts like these, were passing through Tom's
+mind when a loud knock came at his door. Hastily he swept his money
+into the box, and hid it under the bed; then he went to the door, and,
+drawing aside the bolt, opened it. To his surprise and horror there
+stood Ratcliffe, his face pale and haggard, and softened a little with
+what looked like penitence.
+
+"Oh, Tom!" he said. "I managed to get in with my latch-key because I
+wanted a word with you—because I felt I must speak to you to-night."
+Here he paused and repressed the lump in his throat.
+
+But Tom said nothing, and Ratcliffe, mastering his emotion, went on:
+"Did you hear what passed between father and me, Tom, the other night?
+I'd been drinking—more fool I!—and emptied my pockets; and then I came
+to him and asked him for money, and, stupid ass that I was, I said
+something about the lots of tin he had got put away. I shouldn't have
+done it, Tom, if I'd been sober, but never was any saying truer than
+this, 'When the wine's in, the wit's out.' Well, he rose up like a
+black tempest, and he told me to go. I tried to speak, but he shut me
+up, and at last, seeing him like this, I did go. But that's a week ago,
+and I am hoping he may have softened down a bit and changed his mind;
+and I came to-night, Tom, to ask you whether you would say a good word
+for me to the governor. You're a child after his own heart (if he's got
+one to be after), and he'd do a deal for your asking. And think, Tom,
+we're brothers—you and I—and you're rich, and I'm nigh upon starving,
+and my poor girl at home the same. Help me a little, just this once,
+and to-morrow say a good word for me to the old man, and tell him you
+think, if he will only take me back, that I'll work and be steady. Will
+you do this for me, Tom, old boy?" And Ratcliffe's eyes moistened in
+his earnest pleading, and he laid his hand upon his brother's shoulder.
+
+Tom shook it off; not roughly, but coldly. "Look here, Ratcliffe,"
+said he, in that quiet voice of his, which, though so low-toned, had
+no sweetness or softness in it, "you must know you've brought this on
+yourself. Your own bad habits have done it all. Now, is it fair that
+you should come here and beg from me what I've saved by hard work for
+ever so long, when you've thrown away more than I've got to bless
+myself with?" And Tom's voice grew yet colder and more metallic as he
+hardened his heart against his brother's entreaties.
+
+Ratcliffe made a sudden exclamation, then checked himself, and Tom went
+on,—
+
+"As for speaking to father, you ought to know how little good that
+would do you; when he makes up his mind, he never changes, and I should
+only get into trouble myself if I tried to persuade him to take you
+back. Besides—think, Ratcliffe—it wouldn't be long before he found out
+about that marriage of yours, just as I did, and then you'd be as badly
+off as you are now. No, no; you'd better keep clear of this house—and,
+for the matter of that, of father and me too. Here's five shillings for
+your present necessities, but don't you come again."
+
+And Tom, with a mighty effort of will, took two half-crowns out of his
+pocket, and laid them on the table before his brother. He did not look
+at him while he did this, or he would have seen the sudden change in
+Ratcliffe's face—a change from humble, sorrowful penitence to defiant
+pride and anger.
+
+The prodigal took the two silver coins, drew himself up to his full
+height, and, with a passionate gesture, flung them into the farthest
+corner of the room.
+
+"There!" said he, in a husky voice. "We're brothers no more. I came
+to you for help that one brother might well give another; but I'm not
+quite crushed yet, and I'd sooner starve—and so would my Nan—than take
+from your hand the bread that would keep body and soul together after
+the words you've said to me to-night. Now I'm going; but mark what I
+say—my mood is changed, and some day you'll repent this night's work. I
+came here sorry I'd done wrong, and wanting to mend my ways, but you've
+turned me to flint!"
+
+Tom had risen too, and as the money rolled away against the wall, and,
+after spinning a moment, lay flat on the floor, he listened intently,
+as if fearing that the noise would be heard. Then he said, "A little
+more, Master Ratcliffe, and you'd have had the governor up to see
+what's the matter. I'm sure I hope the housekeeper hasn't heard the
+row. Now go, if you 'are' going, and remember that you and I cannot be
+friends again."
+
+Ratcliffe needed no second injunction; he fixed one look on his
+brother—a gaze of defiance, resentment, and menace; then he was gone,
+and Tom breathed freely once more. Hastily he shot home the bolt of his
+door, picked up the despised half-crowns and returned to his seat—not
+to reproach himself, but to try to calculate his gains, and to form
+some idea of the advantages which would come to him from his brother
+being disinherited.
+
+[Illustration: RATCLIFFE, THE PRODIGAL.]
+
+Alas! That the interests of two immortal souls should be sacrificed to
+the love of gold! Alas! That the priceless jewel of eternal life, and
+the joy of Christ's free and blessed service, should be bartered for
+the tarnishing glitter—the metallic ring—of perishable money! In this
+one home were two men deliberately choosing the evil and throwing away
+the good, shutting their hearts against all right influences—love and
+charity, a forgiving spirit, pity, and sympathy, and bowing down, as it
+were, with an idolatrous homage, like the Israelites of old at the foot
+of Mount Horeb, to the golden calf of their hoarded wealth. And this
+was the "malt that lay in the house that Jack built."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+"THIS IS THE RAT THAT ATE THE MALT."
+
+ON leaving his brother's room, Ratcliffe groped his way out of the
+house by the back door that led into the yard. He carefully locked it
+behind him, and was about to jump over the gate into the road, when the
+moon came suddenly from behind a cloud and shone full upon the yard and
+upon him. Like a guilty thing he shrank from the light, and had already
+placed one hand upon the top of the gate, when his eye was arrested by
+a small dark object that lay on the dust-heap in a corner. He made a
+step forward and picked it up; it was a book. This was all he saw, for
+the fickle moon retreated again behind the clouds, and all was dark
+once more, excepting for the flickering light of the lamp farther down
+the street.
+
+Lightly he sprang over the gate, and, book in hand, made his way into
+the main road. A sharp walk of half an hour brought him into a side
+street, and at length to the door of a shabby cottage. He paused here
+and knocked. The door was instantly opened, and he entered.
+
+"Ah, Nan, here I am, you see!" said the young man, trying to look
+careless and unconcerned, as he flung himself down into a seat.
+
+But his wife's clear eyes were searchingly, questioningly fixed upon
+him, and, moving uneasily beneath their gaze, he said at last, "No,
+my girl; no good! I got in easily enough, thanks to my key and to my
+knowledge of the sliding panel and inside bolt, but Tom is as hard as
+a millstone, and won't say a good word for me to father, or help me
+properly himself. There's no help for it, my poor Nan, we're adrift,
+sure enough; and there's father and Tom as rich as anything, and won't
+stretch a hand to help us."
+
+Ratcliffe paused, and looked again at his wife. Her young fair face was
+turned from him now, turned towards the corner of the room where stood
+a small trundle bed; and, following her eyes, his own rested on the
+tiny golden head of his child and hers.
+
+The sight of the little one seemed to rouse him to fresh passion, and
+he exclaimed,—
+
+"Nan, I went there to-night feeling humbled and sorry. I don't mind
+telling you this, because you've loved me and been patient with me—but
+I've come back a worse man than I went, for I believe I've turned as
+hard as Tom himself. And now I'll go no more to ask him for anything,
+but I know of something that shall keep us from starving, spite of
+father and Tom." And the young man's face darkened with a menacing
+scowl that made his wife shudder as she looked at him.
+
+"Don't go and do anything wicked, dear," she said, gently; "better
+starve, or go into the workhouse, than commit sin. I wish, Ratcliffe,
+that you hadn't the burden of me and the child, and then you'd do well
+enough. I wish I had not let my heart tempt me into marrying you—you'd
+have been better off." And Nan stole to her husband's side, and softly
+passed an arm round his neck, pressing her smooth cheek to his.
+
+At another time this loving caress would have touched and soothed him,
+but now, in his fierce mood, he hardly noticed it. Without a word he
+sprang up, and crushing his old cap again over his brows, he went out.
+
+Nan looked after him in fear and wonder; then she stooped and picked up
+the book which he had held mechanically, and had dropped when he rose.
+
+"What can this be?" she said to herself. "Why, how strange! It is a
+Bible. Where could Ratcliffe have found it?"
+
+Drawing a chair to the table, she opened the book, glancing over some
+of the pages. They were discoloured and defaced, but most of the
+print was still legible. On the fly-leaf were the initials E. D., and
+underneath was written the text, "For the Son of Man is come to seek
+and to save that which was lost."
+
+As she turned the leaves, her attention was caught by many underlined
+passages, some of which had been favourite ones of her own, and
+gradually the familiar words recalled old associations, and she found
+herself going back in thought to the events of the last few years.
+
+"I wonder what my old priest-uncle would say," she mused, "if he saw me
+reading this. How angry he was at the idea of my marrying a Protestant.
+And I remember it was not until I assured him that I did not think
+Ratcliffe had much religion of any kind that he half consented to
+my having him. He did not know that at heart I was more than half a
+Protestant long before Ratcliffe came to court me."
+
+And then there came vividly back to Nancy's recollections, how it
+was that she had first begun to doubt the faith in which she had
+been brought up. She remembered walking along the street one Sunday
+afternoon, and at the corner there was an open-air service going on.
+As she passed, the preacher was just closing his address, and Nancy,
+stopping for a moment to listen, had caught the following words:—
+
+"Dear friends, dear fellow-sinners and fellow-sufferers, ye whose
+hearts are aching with their burden of guilt; ye the darkness of whose
+souls may be felt, so deep is it; ye whose doubts are honest, and
+whose helpless hands are ever reaching through the night and striving
+to grasp at truth, here is a rest for the burdened, a light for the
+darkened, a solving of all doubt, truth ready to be embraced; for all
+these are in my text, 'Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the
+sin of the world.'"
+
+This had set the young girl thinking, and carefully studying a Bible
+which she bought for the purpose; and, though she said nothing to her
+uncle, she began to have a new faith and a new hope. Then Ratcliffe had
+come, and in spite of his wild ways she could not help loving him.
+
+"Ah," sighed she now, as she laid the book down on the table, and
+began to turn her wedding-ring round and round her finger, "it was
+not surprising that uncle disapproved of the match, for he is such
+a staunch Romanist, and so, he says, were my parents; and also, he
+did not like my marrying into a family of which he knew so little. I
+remember we had been married some time before Ratcliffe told me that
+his relatives must not know of his altered circumstances. No wonder
+uncle was offended then; the idea that his niece was married to a man
+who would not acknowledge her to his own friends hurt his feelings,
+and I could not be surprised that he ceased writing to us, and that a
+coolness sprang up between him and Ratcliffe. And yet all my husband's
+relations were not quite strangers, for I recollect long ago meeting
+Tom Drinkrow in my cousin's house near London. It seemed to me at
+the time as if he rather wanted to make me like him; but one look at
+that cold, hard face was enough for me, and I soon showed him what I
+thought. What an age it seems since all this happened, yet it isn't
+quite four years ago.
+
+"Poor uncle! He had very little satisfaction in either of his nieces,
+for Sister Susie married a sailor, and left the neighbourhood soon
+after I came to settle here. She wrote me that he had pretended to be
+a Roman Catholic just to get her, knowing that uncle would never have
+allowed his favourite niece to marry him otherwise. He had lived among
+Romanists in several countries, and knew their ways and the outward
+forms of their religion, or he could not have deceived uncle as he did.
+Poor Susie! She died soon after her baby's birth, and the little one
+only lived a week or two longer. As for her husband—Frank, as we used
+to call him—I suppose he went back to sea; strange I have never heard
+of him since: Only four years ago, yet how much has happened since
+then!" And Nancy glanced round the room till her eye rested on the crib
+where her child was lying.
+
+She was still living over the past when her husband returned. His
+passion had given place to a deep sullenness, and he did not explain
+why he had gone out, or answer a single question that Nan put to him.
+
+He only said in a surly tone, wholly different from that in which he
+usually addressed her, "Stop chattering, Nan, and get to bed. If you're
+not tired, I am."
+
+And Nancy obediently did as she was told. She did not soon fall asleep,
+however; long after Ratcliffe was breathing heavily at her side, she
+was broad awake, and thinking sadly over the troubles of which their
+lot was full, and trying to find a way out of them.
+
+At last, however, she was just dropping off into sleep, the tears yet
+wet on her cheeks, when her husband, turning uneasily in his feverish
+slumber, muttered with a groan, but in the strange unconscious voice
+of the sleep-talker, "Hist, don't tell her! Don't tell Nan; she'd
+never forgive me. But there; I can't see her starve for want of the
+gold—gold! Oh, those bags! So heavy; dragging me lower, lower still.
+No, they're not; gold's never too heavy; yes, they are; curse them! I'm
+going down, down, down to perdition. Save, oh save me!" And the young
+man awoke with a start and smothered cry, to find his wife's tender
+face bent over him in fear and anxiety.
+
+"Nothing but a dream, my girl; nothing in the world but a dream!" said
+he. "Don't be afraid; I shall sleep quieter now."
+
+Nan saw very little of her husband during the next few days, and what
+she saw caused her a strange, undefined uneasiness. On the evening of
+the fifth day he went out, saying, as he was about to close the door
+behind him, "Don't sit up for me, Nan; I've a little bit of business
+that may keep me late. Go to bed, and I'll let myself in with the key."
+
+"Won't you tell me where you're going?" cried Nancy. "Ratcliffe, dear,
+do stay one moment and answer me."
+
+But her words did not reach her husband's ear, for he was already gone,
+and the door was shut between them.
+
+There was no sleep for the wife that night; her heart was full of
+foreboding fear. It was about three o'clock in the morning when she
+heard Ratcliffe's step outside the door, and the key turned in the lock.
+
+Springing up at once, she struck a light which flashed full in the
+young man's face. It was deathly pale, and full of a ghastly expression
+of blended mental and physical pain.
+
+"I've been in a bit of a row, Nan," he stammered, as he sank into a
+chair; "and I got a blow and a fall which hurt me a little, and I think
+I must have broken a blood-vessel, for I've thrown up a lot of blood.
+Don't look so frightened, child; I'm better now. I'll keep quiet for a
+day or two, and then I shall be all right." And he smiled a dreadful
+smile, a conscious, guilty, hopeless kind of smile, which struck terror
+to the heart of his poor wife.
+
+"For God's sake, my darling," she cried, "tell me where you have been,
+and what you have done this night! No matter what it is, do tell me."
+And Nan threw her arms round her husband's neck and clung to him as
+though her embrace must bring to her a knowledge of the truth.
+
+But he put her away, not roughly, but decidedly, saying, "I am very
+tired and faint, Nan, and I haven't the strength to talk. Help me to
+undress and get to bed."
+
+So Nan obeyed without another word, and then lay down herself, her
+heart heavier than ever, and finding no outlet for its grief save in
+the plaintive cry of the Psalmist of old, "O Lord, I am oppressed;
+undertake for me."
+
+Ah, loving heart of God! Did ever a child of Thine cry to Thee in
+affliction and pain, and receive no help and comfort? Never, oh never!
+Blessed be Thy Holy Name!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+"THIS IS THE CAT THAT KILLED THE RAT."
+
+GREAT excitement and consternation were prevailing in — Street the next
+morning.
+
+John Drinkrow had been absent for a couple of nights—called away to the
+north of England to a dying relative—and during his absence a strange
+event had taken place.
+
+We might say here that attention to his relations' wishes was not
+John's invariable habit, but this kinsman was a rich man, and John
+thought that his presence at the bedside might influence the conditions
+of the will, and the consequent division of the property. Hence his
+venturing on a journey which, even by third-class in a cheap train,
+must have wrung the miser's heart by its expense.
+
+But be this as it may, on the second night of his absence "the house
+that Jack built" was broken into by a band of practised housebreakers,
+and, as if guided by instinct, they took their way straight to the
+miser's strong-room, where, having the proper instruments for the
+execution of their wicked designs, they had succeeded in forcing open
+one box and in carrying off a small bag of gold.
+
+They would doubtless have done more mischief, but the noise that they
+unavoidably made, awoke the old housekeeper, Mrs. Curr, who in her turn
+roused Tom.
+
+Tom armed himself with a life-preserver, and came down from his room;
+but the burglars had already caught the alarm, and two of them made
+off; the third, more venturesome or more greedy than the rest, stayed
+a moment longer in the miser's room, and was met at the head of the
+stairs by Tom. The black-masked figure tried to slip by him, but Tom
+made a rush, and as the burglar tried to gain the stairs, Tom struck at
+him with his heavy weapon. The blow fell full on the back, between the
+shoulders, and the robber, what with the pain and shock of the blow,
+what with the blind haste with which he was trying to escape, fell half
+way down stairs. To this fall, however, he mainly owed his escape,
+for Tom, of course, followed in a somewhat less headlong manner, and
+meanwhile the thief had time to pick himself up and make for the back
+door by which he had entered. A moment later and his dark form was lost
+in the shadows of the night.
+
+It would not have been wise to apply to the police, and thus to make
+public the private affairs of the miser; so Tom and his father—for the
+latter reached home that day—bore their trouble as they best might,
+and tried to make their possessions more secure by the fixing of an
+alarum, and by the addition of several modern appliances for further
+safety. But the loss the two men had sustained only strengthened still
+more their passion for hoarding, until at last John Drinkrow grudged
+himself even the necessaries of life; and Tom, though he grumbled at
+his father's meanness in the things that touched his own comfort, was
+almost as penurious in his way.
+
+Poor Mrs. Curr, the housekeeper, had hard work sometimes to provide
+food for the little household with the meagre allowance supplied her.
+Since Ratcliffe had gone, John Drinkrow had reduced by one-quarter the
+money for the expenses, and it was harder than ever to arrange and
+economise.
+
+For Ratcliffe was gone—gone for good; his father's home would be his no
+more; and only one of the three people whom he had left behind him at
+"the house that Jack built" missed him or wanted him back, and this was
+good Mrs. Curr, the kindest-hearted, most motherly body in the world.
+She had held her situation in John Drinkrow's family for some years,
+and had become really attached to Ratcliffe, who, with all his faults,
+had a warm heart, and seemed to be the only on capable of receiving or
+giving affection.
+
+Mrs. Curr was not a woman of much education, but she had strong good
+sense and high principle. And when she found, after the quarrel between
+father and son, that Ratcliffe returned no more, and that no wonder or
+anxiety was expressed either by John or Tom, Mrs. Curr became first
+distressed, then indignant; and she resolved to find out why her
+favourite had been banished from his home, and whether he were not to
+come back shortly.
+
+Accordingly, one evening, when she had carried her week's accounts to
+her master to look over and correct, as was his wont, she did not move
+away with her usual "Good night, sir," but stood in the doorway, almost
+filling it up with her portly figure.
+
+John looked up. "What are you waiting for, Mrs. Curr?" said he,
+sharply. "You've got your money for next week; why don't you go?"
+
+Mrs. Curr cleared her throat. Hers was a throat that required a good
+deal of clearing at times, and just now the process had an ominous
+sound.
+
+"Please, sir," said she, at last, "I was jist a-goin' to ask you about
+Master Ratcliffe, and when you'll be a-expectin' of him home, for his
+room ought to be cleaned, and I'd be glad to know when we're to hev
+the pleasure of him back. I wouldn't hev him find his room other than
+a welcome home, which clean blinds cost but little, and is worth their
+weight in anything reasonable for the genteel effect they perduces.
+Why, sir," and Mrs. Curr again cleared that much enduring throat, "in
+the last situation as I lived in, my missus (which never would I have
+left her if so be she hadn't died)—my missis, she said to me allers,
+'Curr, clean blinds is a mark of "genteelity," and folks as doesn't
+look after their winder drapery doesn't know what genteelity is, and—'"
+
+"There—there," growled the miser; "hold your noise, Mrs. Curr. Who
+cares to hear about your mistress's sayings, or your stupid white
+blinds? Save yourself the trouble and me the expense of having any got
+up for my son's room, as he's not coming back any more; and listen,
+Mrs. Curr, I forbid you to mention his name to me again."
+
+[Illustration: "WHY DON'T YOU GO?"]
+
+The old housekeeper drew herself up, while her cheeks turned the colour
+of her own cherry cap-ribbons. "Then, sir," she said, in a burst of
+honest indignation—"then, sir, you ought for to be ashamed of yourself;
+though, bein' as how I'm a sarvant, it's me that says it as shouldn't;
+but I can't see you turn agin' your own flesh and blood, and hold my
+tongue. God help us! Where should we be, I wonder, if our Father that's
+in heaven treated us as some fathers treat their children! Oh, master,
+master! I must have my say this once, and then you can send me away
+if you want to; but if poor Mr. Ratcliffe ain't jist the kind of lad
+as you wanted him to be, you oughtn't to forget he's been brought up
+without a mother; nor he wasn't never a child to be drove, but led,
+which you might have led him anywheres, if so be you'd have loved
+him. And though I know he's been and acted contrairy, and disobeyed
+God's command to obey his parents—which it's only one he's got, worse
+luck—there's a second command, which reads t'other way, 'Fathers,
+provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged.' And it's
+discouraged he's been, poor boy, as no one knows better than old Jemima
+Curr."
+
+As the brave old woman uttered these last words, she cleared her
+throat once more, and braced herself to meet the thunderbolt of John
+Drinkrow's indignation, which she thought must fall at once now upon
+her devoted head. But, much to her amazement, it did not come. John had
+been astonished at his housekeeper's vehemence, and her fearless way of
+speaking fairly cowed him for the moment. Besides, he knew her worth
+from an economical point of view, and he could not afford to quarrel
+with her yet.
+
+So while she waited, expecting her notice to leave, there was silence.
+Then the miser looked up, and said, quietly, "If that's all, I'll wish
+you good night, Mrs. Curr."
+
+"Good night, sir," said the housekeeper, in a tone that showed her
+amazement, and then she trotted off to her own room, where, after
+thinking over what had passed, she made up her mind to take the first
+opportunity she could get of seeking out Ratcliffe, and of showing him
+by every means in her power that he was not forgotten by at least one
+of the inmates of "the house that Jack built."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+"THIS IS THE DOG THAT WORRIED THE CAT."
+
+FOR some time Ratcliffe continued very ill; the bleeding from the
+lungs recurred at intervals, and he was extremely weak. Nor was this
+his wife's only or greatest source of anxiety. Though unable to do
+any work, he seemed to have money, which he gave her, a gold piece
+at a time, when she needed it for household expenses. Once when she
+ventured to ask how he had become possessed of it, he turned upon her
+almost fiercely, telling her to hold her tongue and not bother him; but
+she was very unhappy, for generally Ratcliffe was sullen and silent,
+sitting in his chair often for hours without speaking, and taking no
+notice even of his little girl, of whom he had always been devotedly
+fond. Nancy could see that a heavy burden was resting upon his heart,
+but she was not permitted to share it, and this was constant pain to
+her.
+
+Things were in the condition we have described, when one evening a
+knock came at the door, and Nan, on going to open it, found there a
+dame with a portly figure and a round, good-humoured face; while a
+throat cleared itself noisily, and a big hearty voice said—
+
+"Tell me, young woman, does a Mr. Ratcliffe Drinkrow live here, or near
+here?"
+
+"Yes; do you want him, ma'am?" said Nancy, gently. "He's not at all
+well, but I'll tell him who's come, if you'll just give me your name; I
+dare say he will see you."
+
+"I 'think' he will," replied the old woman, "if you'll have the
+goodness to tell him that it's Mrs. Curr. He and I was allers good
+friends."
+
+Nan went to her husband, but returned in a moment, and asked the
+visitor to come in. Mrs. Curr did so, but when she saw Ratcliffe's
+pale face and drooping form, she came towards him with both hands
+outstretched and tears of pity in her kind eyes. He as eagerly rose to
+meet her, saying—
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Curr, to think you have found me out, and come to see me! You
+were always my friend, weren't you? And you haven't gone and cast me
+off like the others, have you?"
+
+"Bless your dear face, no, Master Ratcliffe. How's a body to cast-off
+a boy which many and many a time I've given you bread and treacle when
+you was a hungry, growing lad, and your father couldn't abide your
+eating so much? Ah, my poor lad, that bread and treacle has stuck to
+me—leastwise the remembrance of it has—and it ain't Jemima Curr as can
+stop lovin' when she once begins. But la! Master Ratcliffe, it were a
+tidy job to find you out; nor I don't think I ever should, not if I'd
+wandered from Dan to Beersheba—as the sayin' is—hadn't it have been
+for my old friends the greengrocers over the way. They told me you
+was here, and what was more surprisin', that you'd took upon yourself
+the state of matrimony; though, for the matter of that, any money 's
+better than that as your father and brother thinks so much of at home.
+And besides this, you won't mind my sayin' that I consider your wife a
+werry promisin' young woman, and speaks that gentle and sweet, as she
+might be a lady borned and brought up."
+
+A faint smile rested for a moment on the young man's face, but it
+passed away, not, however, before it was broadly reciprocated on
+Mrs. Curr's own honest, full-blown countenance. There was a moment's
+silence, then the old housekeeper began again—
+
+"You're not livin' now, sir, in the 'house that Jack built,' and maybe
+you haven't heard of the robbery that's been and took place. You'll
+hardly believe it, sir, but your father's strong-room was broke into,
+and a bag of gold carried off, and not one of the thieves caught, which
+three there was. Not but what one of them was as near nabbed as might
+be, escaping, as you may say, with the skin of his teeth; for Master
+Tom were after him, and—Bless my soul, Master Ratcliffe, what's the
+matter? Look here, Mrs. Ratcliffe! Here's your husband took bad; he's
+a-goin' to faint or somethink like it. Why, what a hinvalid he's become
+since he left the parential roof!"
+
+Poor Ratcliffe! Apparently the excitement of seeing his old friend had
+been to much for him. Pale as death, he leant back in his chair, and
+did not recover for some time. When at last he did so, he turned to
+Mrs. Curr and said—
+
+"I've been but a poor creature the last few days, but I shall be all
+right soon, no doubt. And Mrs. Curr, I rely on you not to tell my
+father and brother where I am, or that you have been to see me. Perhaps
+you know I was turned out by father, and since then, when I went to
+ask Tom to plead my cause with the old man, he said he wouldn't. So
+now they're my father and brother no longer, and I—I—" Here a cough
+interrupted poor Ratcliffe, and he stopped abruptly.
+
+Mrs. Curr leaned forward eagerly.
+
+"Did I hear you say, sir," questioned she, "that you'd been to Master
+Tom since your father behaved that cruel to you? And did he send you
+off without trying to make matters smooth? Ain't that a shame, now? A
+shame it is indeed!"
+
+The old woman's affectionate sympathy brought tears to Ratcliffe's
+eyes, and he could not trust himself to reply, except by a hearty shake
+of the hand as she bade him good night. A moment more and she was
+trundling down the street at her best pace, and in due time she reached
+home just at the hour when she had to dish up the meagre meal called
+supper by the miser and his son.
+
+After supper Tom was about to go to the taproom, when the housekeeper
+said, "May I have a word with you please, Mr. Thomas?"
+
+"Yes, if there are no customers," replied Tom, who was in rather a
+surly mood, and resented the idea of a conversation with Mrs. Curr,
+whom he had always detested for her invariable kindness to Ratcliffe.
+
+The housekeeper peeped through the glass door; there happened to be no
+one at the bar just then.
+
+"If you please, sir," said she, "bein' an old servant, would you hev
+any objectings to tell me about your brother, Mr. Ratcliffe? I've been
+waitin' and hopin' to see if anythink would turn up to make peace
+between him and master, and nothink hasn't been and turned up yet;
+which the neighbours is all askin' what's got him, and why; and please,
+sir, what am I to tell them?"
+
+"Tell them to go and mind their own business," returned Tom, savagely.
+
+"It may be, sir, as you might hey seen him since he left home, and if
+so could you—"
+
+But Tom interrupted her with more heat and vehemence than she had ever
+seen him display. "What's the matter with you to-night?" he exclaimed,
+rudely. "What have I to do with Ratcliffe? No, I've not set eyes on him
+since the day he took himself off; how should I when I haven't an idea
+where he lives? Of course I haven't seen him. What a question!"
+
+This direct lie was too much for poor Mrs. Curr. She almost screamed
+with excitement; then she blurted out,—
+
+"Mr. Thomas, there's nothink easier than to tell a lie, but it's
+another thing quite to make folks believe it. Now I happen to know that
+Master Ratcliffe came to you one night, to ask you to try and make
+things right with the master, and you wouldn't; and this were the last
+time you see him."
+
+"And pray how did you hear this wonderful bit of news?" sneered Tom,
+white with rage. "You've been playing the spy, Mrs. Curr, if I'm not
+very much mistaken, and, mark my words, you'll suffer for this!"
+
+"Don't you be a-threatenin' me!" said Mrs. Curr, now well on the
+defensive, and bristling like a porcupine. "But there, you can't do me
+no harm, except to get me sent off, and I shouldn't cry if I was, which
+the life here ain't of the pleasantest, more partic'lar since Master
+Ratcliffe went. And now perwisions is a-gettin' dearer, and I don't hey
+no more money to pay for 'em, I can hardly make both ends meet. Talk of
+Mother Hubbard! Why, 'my' cupboard is allers bare, for I never hev a
+bone as I could ask a respectable dog to haccept of, bein' as how the
+goodness is inwariable boiled out."
+
+"Is this all you've got to say to me, Mrs. Curr?" asked Tom, coldly.
+"Because, if so, I can go and attend to my duties."
+
+Mrs. Curr did not reply. She only looked at him, and almost through
+him, with her indignant eyes, and cleared her throat at him in her most
+aggressive manner.
+
+This was too much for Tom, and he walked away, muttering to himself,
+"I'll serve her out for this—I'll lose her the place—worrying old hag
+that she is. I know what I'll say to my father, and he will turn her
+away at once. I'll serve her out yet."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+"THIS IS THE COW WITH THE CRUMPLED HORN."
+
+"I'VE got my warning, and I'm to leave this day month," said Mrs. Curr
+one evening to her old friend, a tradesman's widow, Mrs. Moo by name,
+with whom she was taking a quiet cup of tea; "and to tell you the
+truth, my dear, it's some time as I've been expectin' of it, and so it
+comes quite nat'rel like, but—"
+
+Here Mrs. Curr stopped even in the clearing of her throat, and stared
+at Mrs. Moo, whose face had suddenly undergone a most wonderful and
+comical change.
+
+"Oh, my good soul," said Mrs. Moo, "no one ought to know this better
+than I; I've heard all about it."
+
+"And, pray, how did you hear?" asked Mrs. Curr. "There's no one knows
+it yet, for I only heard it myself this morning."
+
+"Well, Jemima, I knew it before," replied Mrs. Moo, laughing, and
+rather red in the face. "The truth is, I'm a-goin' to marry John
+Drinkrow, and he waited for my answer before giving you warning."
+
+This was news indeed; and Mrs. Curr, with wide-open mouth and eyes, sat
+for several seconds unable to recover from the shock of this startling
+intelligence. At last she mastered her surprise sufficiently to blurt
+out—
+
+"I say, Sairey Ann, you ain't a-goin' into it blindfolded, are you?
+You're aware as how he's a miser, which Mr. Tom ain't no better; and
+though young in years, he's the more spitefuller of the two."
+
+"Yes, I know all about it," said Mrs. Moo, recovering her gravity; "but
+you see, Jemima, I'm very lonely since my old man died, and that's ten
+years come next Christmas. And then my son is always away at sea, poor
+lad! And as for John Drinkrow, and his son Tom too, I ain't afraid of
+them. I never yet saw the man as could come it over me."
+
+"Well," remarked Mrs. Curr, "I've kep' house for them, and Master
+Ratcliffe that's gone, for many a long year, and I never found as I
+could make the old man or his eldest son turn one step from anythink as
+they'd a mind to do; and for skrimpiness, there ain't a family anywhere
+as can do on what they do; though I say it myself as cooks their
+wittles, and can't get much of 'em for myself arterwards. Now don't you
+laugh, Sairey Ann, for it's the truth, as I'm a livin' woman."
+
+"My dear, I know it's the truth," replied Mrs. Moo; "but you won't
+frighten me. You must remember that you've been a servant at 'the house
+that Jack built,' while I shall be mistress. I mean to have my own way,
+and you'll see I shall." And Mrs. Moo took out her pocket-handkerchief
+and blew her big and rather crooked nose, with a defiant trumpet sound
+which spoke volumes.
+
+"You see," continued she presently, "it's Tom that's set his father
+against you, Jemima; I suppose you angered him in some way, and he's as
+spiteful as a cat; and his father thought, I suppose, that it would be
+a savin' to have a housekeeper what he'd not have to pay wages to, and
+so he come to me. Well, we shall see. I remember John Drinkrow as he
+was years ago, when my old man and him was friends; he wasn't near so
+bad then, and I don't dislike him now, nor I don't doubt but what I'll
+be able to manage him, and the house too."
+
+It was not possible that evening to carry the news to Ratcliffe and
+his wife, but as soon as she was able to go out again for an hour or
+two, Mrs. Curr set off to pay them a visit. She found Ratcliffe in
+bed, visibly weaker than he had been before, and terribly depressed.
+Nancy told her that once or twice he had rallied for a time, and seemed
+better, but that he changed again for the worse, and never made any
+real progress.
+
+There was no sign of poverty, however, in the house, and Mrs. Curr, who
+had brought in her pocket some of her hardly-earned savings to meet any
+want that might present itself, did not find it necessary to offer help.
+
+After telling the news of her own coming change of circumstances, and
+of John Drinkrow's proposed marriage, she said, clearing her throat
+vigorously, "And now, Master and Mrs. Ratcliffe, I am about, as you
+might say, to be turned out of house and home, and I should like, with
+your permission, to make a proposition. Will you let your spare room to
+me, and allow me to lodge here? I've got my savin's, and I'll pay you
+punctual, and then I can take my turn at anythink there is to do, and
+I'll try never to get in the way, and—"
+
+"You dear old soul, of course you shall come, and we'll only be too
+glad," said Ratcliffe, his weary face lighting up as the housekeeper
+came forward and took his hand.
+
+"And 'I' shall be very glad, too," said Nancy; "only I'm afraid we
+shan't be very pleasant people to live with, my husband being so ill,
+and our poor little Maida often fretful, through not being looked after
+as she ought to be; and I know I'm not the best manager in the world
+either."
+
+"'Taint jest yet as I shall be wantin' to come," said Mrs. Curr; "my
+month ain't up for a fortnight yet, and by that time you'll be all
+right again, I hope."
+
+After a little more conversation, Mrs. Curr took her leave, and
+Ratcliffe and his wife were left alone. The gloom had settled down
+again upon the young man's face, and this and its deadly pallor struck
+terror to the heart of his poor wife.
+
+Each day that had gone by since that night that he had come home
+ill, had convinced her more and more fully that he had fallen into
+some great temptation, and received some terrible moral, as well as
+physical, shock. As she had sat by his side, listening to his laboured
+breathing, or ministering to his many wants, her heart had gone up in
+agonised supplication to God—anguished cries for help and light; for
+it was as if a black cloud rested upon her life, and she could see no
+sunshine beyond it. Once or twice she took up her Bible and offered to
+read aloud a few verses, but Ratcliffe stopped her with a sullen "None
+of that, Nancy," and she was obliged to close the sacred volume and put
+it out of sight.
+
+Still, dark though these hours of trial seemed, they were, through
+their very darkness, and loneliness, and anxiety, teaching her to
+feel for the leading hand of her Heavenly Father, and to look, with
+ever-growing faith and love, to Him for sympathy and help. And He who
+sent His only begotten and well-beloved Son to suffer and die for
+a guilty world, for that Son's sake came near, to strengthen this
+suffering, struggling woman, whose heart was well-nigh broken with the
+terrible change that had come over her loved one—loved, oh how tenderly
+still, in spite of all his faults.
+
+A short time after Mrs. Curr's second visit, Ratcliffe told his wife
+one day—told her briefly and bluntly—that his money was all gone. "Or
+at least," he added, "we have only just enough to pay our doctor's
+account."
+
+To his surprise, however, Nan did not turn pale, or seem much
+surprised, or at all alarmed. For a long time past the money upon which
+they had been living had been a painful mystery to her, and, with a
+woman's penetration, she more than suspected something was wrong. And
+now, when her husband told her with lowering brow that his stock of
+gold was at an end, she felt, destitute as they were, as if one weight
+had been taken from her burdened heart.
+
+"Well, dear," she replied simply, "I must try to get some work to do
+that will help to keep us; then Mrs. Curr's paying for our front room
+will be something gained, and I think, as we haven't run into debt,
+that we may be able to manage till you are about again."
+
+Ratcliffe shook his head despondingly, but said nothing, and the
+subject was not resumed.
+
+     *     *     *     *     *
+
+That night there came a low tap at the door, and when Nancy opened
+it there entered a young man, a year or two older perhaps than her
+husband, but with a face from which she shrank as from that of some
+loathsome reptile.
+
+He came in and sat down by Ratcliffe's bed, and looked uneasily round
+the room, following, with his furtive eyes, first the little girl, who
+was toddling about and prattling in her pretty childish way, and then
+fixing his gaze suspiciously upon Nan, who had seated herself at the
+table, with some fine sewing.
+
+Ratcliffe saw the look, and turning restlessly in his bed, he said—
+
+"Nancy, leave this chap and me to ourselves for a quarter of an hour,
+and take the child with you."
+
+A deeper shadow stole over the young wife's face as she obeyed, and
+Maida cried as her mother took her up and bore her away.
+
+As soon as the door was shut, the stranger said—
+
+"Well, Rat., you don't look up to another game yet. That last little
+excursion 'pears to have done for you. And yet I came to tell you of a
+rare thing that's afloat, if you could take your part like a man."
+
+Ratcliffe clenched his hands.
+
+"Can't you see what a poor wretch I am?" said he. "I can do nothing but
+lie here, and curse myself and you and the others. If it hadn't been
+for that night's work, I should have been a sound man now, instead of
+lying here coughing my life away."
+
+"But you got your share of what we went in for," urged the stranger,
+"and that was what you wanted, wasn't it?"
+
+"Hold your tongue," retorted Ratcliffe, "or tell me something I don't
+know, if you want to talk. What are you going to do, you and the
+fellows?"
+
+The visitor rose. "No, no," said he, "you ain't a-goin' to join us, so
+I can't tell you nothin'! No tales allowed out of school, remember.
+Blabbin's dangerous to any one as isn't in the risk, so I'll wish you
+good evening." The stranger let himself out, and the air seemed purer
+for his absence.
+
+"What did that man want, Ratcliffe dear?" asked Nancy, as, having put
+the child to bed, she began to busy herself with preparations for their
+simple evening meal. She waited for an answer, but none came, and with
+a heavy sigh she busied herself with her household duties, feeling that
+her husband must have terrible reasons for his sullen silence—a silence
+which he had now maintained upon several subjects for weeks past.
+
+The time of Mrs. Curr's service at "the house that Jack built" had come
+to an end, and she packed up her things, received her wages, and took
+her leave, going straight to the house of Ratcliffe and his wife.
+
+"Here I am, you see," said she, in her big, hearty voice, as she walked
+in.
+
+"Mr. Ratcliffe, I've giv' up service and I'm a-goin' to rest in my old
+age; and rest it'll be, if you'll let me take care of you sometimes,
+and have an eye on that bonny bairn of your'n with her golden head."
+
+"You're very good, dear Mrs. Curr," said Ratcliffe, gratefully.
+
+Somehow the old woman's genial disposition and genuine affection seemed
+to do more towards removing the cloud from his brow than anything else,
+and now he added, more cheerfully than he had spoken for long enough—
+
+"It'll be a great pleasure for both Nan and me to have you here, and we
+bid you heartily welcome."
+
+So Mrs. Curr took off her bonnet and put on her cap, unpacked her big
+box and her extended carpet-bag, and arranged to her satisfaction the
+pieces of furniture she had managed to purchase; and thus established
+herself in her new home.
+
+And the very next day John Drinkrow brought his new wife home to "the
+house that Jack built," and in his old age recommenced married life.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+"THIS IS THE MAIDEN ALL FORLORN."
+
+IN spite of the devoted care of his wife and the added attention of
+Mrs. Curr, Ratcliffe's health grew steadily worse. Yet it was not for
+want of anything that he had been accustomed to have, for whatever
+self-denial Nancy felt it right to practise herself, her husband was
+not allowed to forego anything which had in the past been considered
+necessary. Early and late the busy little woman toiled. Always clever
+with her fingers, she had succeeded in obtaining some fancy work to
+do regularly, and whenever she was not actively employed in household
+matters, or in actual waiting upon Ratcliffe, her nimble hands would be
+earning money for the daily expenses.
+
+As for Mrs. Curr, no one could well have been more kind and unselfish.
+She insisted upon paying a high rent for her room, on the plea that it
+had "a lively lookout," and was bigger than most of the bedrooms in
+such houses. Nor did her kindness end here. In a wonderfully delicate
+manner she would often contrive to provide some little delicacy for the
+invalid, or cheer him by the gift of a few cut flowers or a fragrant
+plant; until at last both he and Nancy used to hail with delight the
+sight of her round face, and even fairly to enjoy the ominous clearing
+of the throat, which always heralded her approach to their rooms from
+the upper regions.
+
+But changes were at hand.
+
+One morning the doctor looked more grave than usual as he examined
+Ratcliffe's lungs. Again and again he applied the stethoscope. At last
+he said, "My good fellow, it's no use trying to deceive you, your chest
+is in a very bad state, and a change of air is positively necessary. I
+should recommend Devonshire if you can get as far, for I think that the
+air of some parts of that county is specially suited to your case."
+
+Ratcliffe said nothing in reply, but a flush dyed his cheeks, which the
+medical man did not fail to see, and very wisely he changed the subject
+and chatted on about other things. Presently Nancy, who had been out
+of the room with little Maida, came back with a neat packet which she
+had prepared to give the doctor; it contained the payment in full of
+the account sent in for his late visits. She kept it in her hand until
+he rose to go, then, following him to the door, she said, "Please,
+sir, will you allow me to pay your account now? I think you will find
+this right. Thank you very much for being so patient with us and so
+attentive to my husband."
+
+The doctor put back the hand and the parcel together. "No, Mrs.
+Drinkrow," said he, "I could not think of taking fees from you until
+your husband has shown more benefit from my treatment. I think that sea
+air and change of scene are the doctors for him now. Keep this to pay
+for them. No, not a word of thanks, if you please. Good morning," and
+the kind-hearted doctor raised his hat as respectfully as though he
+were saluting one of the high-born or wealthy of the land, and went his
+way with the music of Nan's trembling words, "God in heaven reward you,
+sir!" ringing in his ears.
+
+And so it was arranged that with this money Ratcliffe and Nancy should
+go down to Devon. Father Francis, Nancy's priest-uncle, lived there,
+and she thought that if he knew the circumstances of the case, he would
+perhaps allow them, to lodge in his house, which was a comfortable
+cottage close to the sea, in the outskirts of one of the towns.
+
+Nan accordingly wrote a letter to her uncle—wrote earnestly and
+humbly—asking this as a favour, and appealing to his love for her in
+former years, when, being left an orphan, she had lived under his
+protection. Almost by return of post an answer came granting Nan's
+petition, and expressing great sympathy for her in her misfortunes.
+
+It was arranged meanwhile for Maida to remain with Mrs. Curr, who was
+to move into a smaller and cheaper lodging, and there to await the
+return of Nancy and Ratcliffe.
+
+Our story would grow too long and prosy were we to go into all the
+details of preparation, or even of the journey. We will only say that
+the invalid and his wife got safely to their destination, and that
+Mrs. Curr, after looking in vain in the immediate neighbourhood for a
+suitable room for herself and the little forlorn maiden under her care,
+was at last so fortunate as to secure the lodging lately vacated by her
+friend, the former Mrs. Moo, now Mrs. Drinkrow, of "the house that Jack
+built."
+
+It was here that, soon after her moving in, she received a visit from
+the elderly bride, who seemed just as usual, only that her very strong
+and rather crooked nose had assumed—it appeared to Mrs. Curr—a somewhat
+more defiant aspect.
+
+Much to Mrs. Curr's delight, "Sairey Ann" was wonderfully taken with
+little Maida, and the child seemed to return the fancy, and not to have
+the slightest fear of her new friend and admirer.
+
+"Well, and how do you get on, Sairey Ann?" asked Mrs. Curr, after her
+friend had fairly rocked little Maida to sleep on her lap.
+
+"Get on?" replied the bride. "Oh, very well; just as I said I should.
+I saw at first that John was going to try and cut me off short, and I
+says to him, 'Look here now, John: I've promised to love, honour, and
+obey you, and so I will, but you've a share of the bargain too, for
+with all your worldly goods you me endow.' I say, Jemima, you should
+have seen his face when I out with that! So then he said, 'Well, my
+dear, what's the least you can do the housekeeping, and your dressing,
+and all that upon?' And I says, says I, 'The least? Why, John, I'm
+sorry as you're so badly off; I'd never have married you and added to
+your expenses if I'd known you was such a poor man, for I've lived
+comfortable even while I've been a lone widow, and could have gone on
+so for the rest of my life without incommodin' of you or any one else.'
+
+"So then, Jemima, he were a bit ashamed of hisself; but, bein' pretty
+tough when he's a mind to, I'm not sure as he'd have given in that time
+if it hadn't been as Tom came into the room just then, and says he,
+'Father, don't you go for to be extravagant in the first days of your
+married life. Brides is the folks for doing people, as you'll find out;
+there's no fool so big as an old one.'
+
+"Well, Jemima, whether the fool were meant for me or for his father, I
+can't tell; but John, he turned round, quite fiery-like, and says he,
+'Tom, you wiper! Who wanted your advice? I'll do as I choose in my own
+house. Here, Sarah Drinkrow, say what you want, and your husband won't
+ask his son's leave to give it you.'
+
+"So then, without any more fuss, I told him what I thought would be
+enough to keep the house as it should be kep'; and, says he, 'Why,
+that's twice as much as Mrs. Curr had.'
+
+"And at that, I laughed, you know, Jemima, remembering our talk. 'Yes,'
+says I, as soon as I could speak for laughin', 'that's likely; Mrs.
+Curr is a very good manager; but still from the looks and tempers of
+both you and Tom, I think you've not been properly fed; and people as
+isn't fed as they should be, and warmed as they should be, get ill and
+want the doctor, and the doctor costs more than food and firing, as
+you'd soon find out.'
+
+"Well, at that, Jemima, John, and Tom too, looked as uncomfortable as
+may be, and says John, 'Well, Sarah, you ought to know what's right, so
+I suppose I must give you what you want.' Then, seeing my battle was
+over, I said no more, and now all goes nice enough, only it's awful
+dull sometimes, for my friends don't come in to see me as they used
+to before I married again, and John and his son I never see except
+at meals. I was askin' about Ratcliffe, the younger son, the other
+day, wonderin' why I never saw him; but his father said he was gone,
+and gone for good, and his name wasn't to be mentioned no more. But I
+thought I'd ask you about him, for I knew you was always a friend of
+the lad's, and he loved you."
+
+[Illustration: "I'LL DO AS I CHOOSE."]
+
+"Oh! That's a sad story," replied Mrs. Curr, clearing her throat and
+wiping her eyes. "You won't say a word to his father and brother, will
+you, if I tell it you?" And then, when Mrs. Drinkrow promised silence,
+the old housekeeper told her Ratcliffe's story, or what she knew of it,
+including the marriage and the existence of a child.
+
+"Why, this is the child," she concluded, laying her broad hand
+caressingly on the curly golden head, as the little one lay asleep on
+Mrs. Drinkrow's lap.
+
+"This is the child!" exclaimed the bride. "Bless me, Jemima, but you
+are a surprisin' old creature. I made sure as you'd took the little one
+in for the day to look after, and oblige the mother, and that's why I
+didn't ask no questions. Sweet little lamb!" And she stooped and kissed
+the unconscious face. "I'd like to take her home with me; I should
+never be dull if I had her playing round near me."
+
+"Ay, very likely," responded Mrs. Curr, drily; "but it wouldn't never
+do for your husband to find out his son's child, partic'lar when he
+hasn't heard of the marriage."
+
+"No, that's true," said the bride, thoughtfully. "Well, I must come
+and see her when I can. Why, fancy, Jemima, I'm the little thing's
+grandmother by marriage! And I've a right to do all for her that I can.
+My own grandchild only lived a week or two—poor Frank's baby, you know.
+He married a girl down in Devon, of whom I knew nothing, and she died
+a year after, and the baby too; the little thing would have been about
+the age of Maida here."
+
+After some more conversation, Mrs. Drinkrow took her leave, promising
+to come again very soon and bring some present for the little girl, who
+had evidently quite fascinated her by her pretty ways.
+
+"Which I must write to Mrs. Ratcliffe, and tell her what I've done,"
+said Mrs. Curr to herself. "I hope there wasn't no harm in telling
+the whole story to Sairey Ann; she's quite to be trusted, and I did
+want little Maida here to have another friend. God knows she may want
+one very soon, and Sairey Ann will be a friend for sure, spite of her
+crooked nose and her odd ways. My! Didn't she work round that there old
+miser!"
+
+And Mrs. Curr chuckled and cleared her throat in her intense
+satisfaction, and then proceeded to put Maida to bed, an operation
+which was always regarded as a serious matter, and requiring a great
+deal of care and grave attention.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+"THIS IS THE MAN ALL TATTERED AND TORN."
+
+"WILL you please to tell me what you want?" said Mrs. Curr one morning,
+as she opened the door to a young man in rather disreputable garments,
+but with the unmistakable look of a sailor both about him and them.
+
+He stared at her as at an unexpected face; then he said,—
+
+"Why, I thought my—at least Mrs. Moo lived here."
+
+"Well, young man," replied Mrs. Curr, "if I was to say she never did
+live here, it would be a lie; likewise, one and the same thing if I was
+to say she lived here now, which she doesn't, nor will, except she turn
+single again, and that ain't likely."
+
+The stranger frowned. "What do you mean?" said he. "Mrs. Moo turn
+single again? Why, she's a widow, and has been one for years."
+
+"Humbly begging your pardings," replied Mrs. Curr in her most dignified
+manner; "she's now neither a widder nor yet Mrs. Moo. Come, it ain't
+no use beatin' about like this; tell me who you are as wants her, and
+maybe I'll tell you who she is, and where."
+
+The stranger had removed his cap, and was looking the old woman full in
+the face. She returned his gaze with a puzzled expression in her eyes,
+and as she finished her sentence, she cleared her throat in her most
+emphatic and peculiar manner. No sooner, however, had she done this,
+than the young man sprang a step forward, and laid his hand on her arm,
+saying—
+
+"Why, Mrs. Curr, it's you after all! I didn't know you till you made
+that noise, for all the world like the scraping of a boat's keel on the
+shore. Don't you know me? I'm Frank Moo!"
+
+"Frank Moo! No, really!" cried the old woman. "To think of your gettin'
+home at last after bein' so long away. Come in, come and sit down, if
+you can spare a quarter of an hour; you ought to hear what's happened
+afore you goes to them as it's happened to."
+
+"And what an age it is since I saw you!" said Frank, taking a seat.
+"Why, I haven't set eyes on you for years and years. Ah, talk of things
+happening! I've seen a peck of trouble since we met last. I married a
+girl down in Devon, and she only lived a year. Poor Susie! Ah, you say
+mother has told you about it. She didn't like the match because she was
+a Catholic, but I was in love, and of course mother couldn't prevent
+it."
+
+"Susie, and a Catholic?" questioned Mrs. Curr, to whom Nan had
+mentioned her sister, and her sister's marriage, though without giving
+the name of Susie's husband.
+
+"It were down in Devon, as you say, you met her, Frank?" said the old
+woman. "Were she the youngest niece of an old priest?"
+
+"Yes; how come you to know that?" asked Frank in his turn. "But, of
+course, you and my mother are friends, and you may have heard it from
+her. And now tell me what's come to mother, for bein' at sea, no letter
+has reached me, and I haven't heard any news."
+
+"Well," replied Mrs. Curr, "your mother has married John Drinkrow, of
+'the House that Jack built,' and she seems a-gettin' on all right. If
+you remember, Frank, I used to be housekeeper there, but one day I up
+and spoke to Mr. Tom about something as had angered me, and he talked
+his father into turning me off—out of spite, you know."
+
+"He always was a spiteful fellow," said Frank. "But what's become of
+t'other chap—the younger brother—they called him Ratcliffe, I think?"
+
+"Ah, poor boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Curr. "He offended his father and got
+sent about his business, which his father won't have nothin' more to
+say to him; no, nor his brother won't neither."
+
+"You don't say so!" cried Frank. "What a shame, to be sure! Ah, many
+and many's the spree we've had together when we were both boys, before
+I went to sea. How I'd like to see him again!"
+
+"He ain't in London," said Mrs. Curr, suddenly remembering that she
+must be reserved on the subject of Ratcliffe's whereabouts; "so your
+seein' him ain't possible. But look here, my lad; you surely ain't
+a-goin' to your mother in them old clothes, are you? Why, you might be
+a beggar instead of a well-to-do sailor. You're all tattered and torn.
+What's come to you?"
+
+Frank's eyes dropped for a moment.
+
+"Ah, Mrs. Curr," said he, "all my trouble hasn't cured me of my folly
+yet. When I came ashore last night, I somehow got among a bad set, and
+I drank too much, and when I woke up in the morning, I found I'd been
+robbed of my good clothes as I'd brought with me, and these old ones as
+I had on were torn and spoilt. The money too that I'd been fool enough
+to leave in my pockets was all gone; but happily most of my earnings
+was sewn up in a bag and hung by a string round my neck under my shirt,
+and they didn't find that. Still, I've lost more than I need have
+done—if I hadn't been so foolish."
+
+"Which I quite agrees with you," said Mrs. Curr. "But now sit down a
+moment longer, and let me get a needle and thread, and sew up some of
+these big rents. Then you'll be a little more respectabler to go to
+your mother, and see your new father."
+
+So saying, the good woman got out her workbox, and was just sitting
+down to mend Frank's coat, when little Maida toddled into the room,
+from the garden where she had been playing. Her checks were flushed,
+her golden curls fell over her brow, while her innocent blue eyes
+peeped through them wonderingly at the stranger.
+
+Frank looked round. "Oh you little darling!" he exclaimed. "You sweet,
+pretty little pet! Who are you?" And he caught the child, took her on
+his knee, and kissed the round pink cheeks.
+
+"Who is she, Mrs. Curr?" he asked. "She's the dearest little girl I
+ever saw; she must be about the age my baby boy would have been had he
+lived. Look up, little one! Bless me, why how like she is to what my
+wife was. The same golden hair and sweet blue eyes, only this little
+one's eyebrows and lashes are darker; how very strange!" And glancing
+at Mrs. Curr's face, he saw an expression there which made him lay his
+hand on her arm and say, "Tell me, who is this child? Surely there is
+no harm in my knowing. If it's a secret, I promise not to tell."
+
+"Well!" sighed Mrs. Curr. "If you must know, I suppose you must; she's
+Nancy's child—Nancy bein' sister to your wife that's gone. Nancy
+married your old friend Ratcliffe Drinkrow, but John Drinkrow (that's
+the father, as you know) hasn't heard nothink about it, so don't you
+let it out, whatever you do. As for Mr. Ratcliffe, he's down in Devon
+for his health, which it's consumption he's in, I'm certain sure; and
+his wife she's with him; and I'm a-takin' care of their little one
+while they're away. And Frank, here's your coat, which the biggest of
+the slits is cobbled up, and now you'd better go and see your mother.
+You know your way to 'the House that Jack built' without my tellin' of
+you. It's that as began you in your wild ways, and 'twas there you got
+to know Mr. Ratcliffe."
+
+"Yes, I know my way," replied Frank; "good-bye, Mrs. Curr, and thank
+you. Good-bye, little pet!" And once more the rough sailor stooped and
+kissed the child.
+
+As Mrs. Curr watched him away from the door, the postman came up and
+handed in a letter. It was from Nancy, and the old woman hastily
+retreated into the house, and putting on her spectacles, commenced
+reading the letter, which began thus—
+
+   "DEAR MRS. CURR,—I have been putting off writing to you, hoping to have
+better news to give; but I think now it is no use waiting any longer.
+My husband gets worse every day, and his spirits are no better. He
+hardly talks at all, and he groans and moans in his sleep fit to break
+one's heart. Uncle is very kind, and so is his servant boy, James
+Cocks, but all the kindness in the world cannot, I feel sure, save
+Ratcliffe's life.
+
+   "He does not grumble or complain, and the only wish he has expressed
+since he came down here is to see our little one. Sometimes I think if
+Maida were here, her pretty ways might cheer up her father a little
+bit."
+
+     *     *     *     *     *
+
+   "Here I had to stop writing, for at that moment uncle came in, saying
+that he had heard my husband sighing to himself as he lay in a half
+doze,—
+
+   "'Ah, my little one, I want you Maida dear, come, come!'
+
+   "And uncle said—oh! so kindly—'Nancy dear, if Ratcliffe wants the
+child, why not send for her? Mrs. Curr would bring her, and we'll
+manage somehow about a room; and listen, Nancy, I will bear the
+expenses of the journey.'
+
+   "So then, when I had thanked him, I said, 'Well, uncle, I am writing
+now to Mrs. Curr; am I to say this to her?' and he replied, 'Yes, do!'
+So, dear Mrs. Curr, come as soon as you can, for every day makes a
+difference now to my dear husband, and somehow I cannot help feeling as
+if God would make your coming with our darling a blessing to us all."
+
+A few more lines ended the letter, and Mrs. Curr laid it down, and,
+hiding her face in her hands, indulged in a hearty fit of sobbing. Then
+she roused herself, taking herself to task as if she had been another
+person: "Now, Jemima," she said, "don't go for to be a donkey; your
+duty's plain, and you must get ready and go to-morrow, you and the
+little one. And since there's heaps upon heaps to do, 'tain't no use in
+wastin' time weeping!"
+
+Wiping her eyes, Mrs. Curr first set about writing a letter to Nancy,
+saying that she would start with Maida the next morning. The letter was
+a wonderful production as regarded composition, spelling, and writing,
+but it carried with it such hearty sympathy and love as alone would
+ensure it a welcome.
+
+By that evening, Mrs. Curr and her little charge were ready for their
+morrow's journey, and when the morning came they set off, and after a
+long railway ride, which was pure enjoyment to Maida, if not to Mrs.
+Curr, they arrived safely at their destination, where they received a
+hearty welcome.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+"THIS IS THE PRIEST ALL SHAVEN AND SHORN."
+
+LITTLE Maida was like a sunbeam in the home of Father Francis. The old
+man had quite forgiven Ratcliffe for his former misdemeanours, and for
+the concealment of his marriage from his own relatives and friends;
+and now, in his loveless, childless old age, Ratcliffe's little one
+called forth all the best feelings of his nature. For some time past
+his health had been too poor to allow of his undertaking any active
+duty in connection with his religion or profession, but having a little
+property of his own, he contented himself with such quiet occupations
+as his little house and garden afforded, varied sometimes by a visit to
+a neighbouring friend, or a drive in his little chaise to some place of
+interest within easy distance.
+
+His only servant was a youth, James Cocks by name, whom he had employed
+in his service from a child. The boy was a staunch Protestant, nor did
+the priest ever try to influence him against the religion in which he
+had been brought up; and James, or Jim as he was usually called, repaid
+his master's kindness with the most devoted care and attention. A
+thorough Jack-of-all-trades, he united in himself the varied capacities
+of cook, housemaid, gardener, and coachman, and perhaps a more
+unselfish, industrious servant never sang and whistled over his work.
+
+Jim was like other people in the fancy that he took to little Maida,
+only that he showed his affection in a practical way, by trying to add
+the office of nurse to his numerous avocations.
+
+As for Ratcliffe, the presence of his child brought with it a softening
+influence which his wife could not but notice with thankful heart.
+Before he and Nancy had left home, the little one's prattle had
+sometimes seemed to annoy him, and he had even been impatient with her
+occasionally, and brought the frightened tears to her wondering blue
+eyes. But he had now been without her for some time, and had learned
+to miss and long for the nestling golden head, and the sweet-toned
+voice of his little maiden; and perhaps, too, as the disease which was
+slowly stealing away his life, marched on with rapid strides, all the
+fatherhood in him awoke and clutched instinctively at the treasure
+which he must so soon leave.
+
+Nor was this the only change visible in the behaviour of the young man.
+The sullen, dogged expression of his face was fast disappearing, and
+in its stead had come a sad, yearning, regretful look, which told of
+dawning repentance.
+
+Once, when his wife came suddenly into his room, she found the little
+old Bible which he had picked up on the dust-heap, lying on the bed.
+Ratcliffe had evidently put it down as she entered. Perhaps he was
+ashamed as yet to be seen reading it. On another occasion, when she had
+taken up the volume, she had asked him whose initials were the letters
+E. D., which were written in the fly-leaf, and he had answered, "They
+stand for Emily Drinkrow, Nancy dear. That was my mother's name; and,"
+he added with a sigh, "she was a real good woman, I believe, and if
+she'd only lived, I should have been a better man."
+
+Nancy was too wise to pursue the subject, but she welcomed these few
+words as tokens of the change for which she had so earnestly prayed,
+and so long waited.
+
+One evening the time had come for Maida to go to bed. It was Sunday,
+and Nancy was at church, as she had been unable to go out before that
+day. Mrs. Curr undressed the child, and then told her to say her
+prayers before going to sleep. But the little one, with the curious
+obstinacy that children sometimes show, declined, since her mother was
+out, to say them to any one but her father.
+
+"Baby go dadda!" she kept saying in piteous tones, until at last Mrs.
+Curr was obliged to take her to Ratcliffe's bedside, and tell him what
+the child wanted.
+
+A painful flush dyed his cheeks.
+
+"I never did such a thing in my life as hear a child's prayers," said
+he, glancing anxiously up at Mrs. Curr.
+
+"Never mind, sir," replied she; "which you might do worse than begin
+now. Chil'en gets nearer heaven with their little prayers than many
+of us grown ones; and, if it's the pure in heart a sees God, why, the
+babies must needs see Him, for ain't they the purest?"
+
+Ratcliffe was still hesitating, however, when the little one broke into
+a wailing cry, and stretched out both her arms to her father, sobbing,
+"Baby say p'ay'rs to dadda! Please dadda, take baby."
+
+Such entreaty as this Ratcliffe could not resist. With tears in his
+eyes, he motioned to Mrs. Curr to lift the child on to his bed. She did
+so, and left the room.
+
+Then Maida knelt, and, with her little hands folded reverently, and her
+golden head bent, she prayed—
+
+   "Dear Desus, b'ess dadda; and mamma, and mate Maidie dood, and mate
+dadda well, and mamma no k'y, and take us all up high wen us is 'eddy,
+for Desus died sake, amen."
+
+So the little three-year-old lisped her simple prayer in the hearing of
+her guilty, sorrowing father, and as she finished, and flung her soft
+arms round his neck, and laid her rosy cheek against his pale face, wet
+with tears of shame and remorse, he groaned aloud—
+
+"Oh, my little innocent child, God keep you so, never to be lost,
+oh, never, like your poor father! Oh, my child, my child!" And he
+strained little Maida to his breast, and covered her brow and hair with
+passionate kisses.
+
+As the child raised herself again to a sitting posture, her face had
+grown grave and thoughtful beyond her years. She gazed with strangely
+penetrating eyes at her father's suffering countenance; then, putting
+out her tiny hands and gently stroking his thin cheeks, her lips broke
+into a sudden smile, as if the child-spirit had seen a way out of
+the darkness which she felt was about her father. She stooped lower,
+lower still, till her face was close to that of the sick man; then she
+murmured in soft, caressing tones, "Desus loves 'oo, Desus does love
+'oo, dadda!"
+
+Ratcliffe started as if a new thought had struck him, then sank into a
+deep reverie. He hardly noticed when Mrs. Curr came and took away the
+little preacher with her one text. To his inmost heart the words had
+been spoken, "Jesus loves you!"
+
+In thought he went back to earlier days, to the time when he was
+a pleasure-loving boy, but before he became wicked and wild. He
+remembered the sadness that stole over him when he lay down at night,
+with no words of endearment sounding in his ears, no mother-kiss upon
+his cheek. Ah! If the words had been but spoken then, "Child, Jesus
+loves you!"
+
+Then had come the later time; the nights when evil companions began to
+tempt him, and he yielded; when the excitements and false pleasures of
+the world were smothering all the better feelings of his nature.
+
+"Surely not even God's love can have followed me since then!" said the
+stricken man to himself. But, as if in reply, his child's words echoed
+again in his heart and memory—
+
+"Desus 'does' love 'oo, dadda!"
+
+At length, unable to bear the strife of his own inner nature, he
+started up and seized the little old Bible that lay on the table beside
+his bed. He opened it and turned over some of the leaves. In doing
+so, he noticed with fresh interest, and a deeper understanding, the
+underlined passages which Nancy had remarked on the night when he had
+brought home the book.
+
+Parts of texts, the half of a verse—even a single sentence sometimes
+bore this mark, and Ratcliffe, with a strange feeling of being brought
+nearer to his dead mother by the perusal of her much-loved Bible, read
+such words as these in the fresh light that his child's words had shed—
+
+"When he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had
+compassion." "Now Jesus 'loved' Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus."
+"This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved
+you." "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us."
+"God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners,
+Christ died for us."
+
+He was still engaged in turning over the discoloured leaves, and
+reading such passages as we have given, when Father Francis came in.
+
+"Ah, Ratcliffe," said he, "I've come to sit with you a little till
+Nancy gets home. Is anything the matter, my boy?" For the old man
+noticed the tearstained cheeks, and the trembling hands that laid the
+book down.
+
+"No, uncle; I've only been thinking," replied Ratcliffe, with a touch
+of his old reticent manner; and the priest asked no more questions. But
+he said to Nancy privately, soon after she reached home—
+
+"Have an eye on your husband, my child, for his mind is very full of
+something. If he were of my religion, I should recommend him to confess
+to me that he might have the comfort of absolution, but I can't do that
+now, I suppose."
+
+"No, uncle, you cannot," replied Nan, gravely. "If he wants to confess,
+he has a Heavenly Father who is ever ready to hear him, and to grant
+him absolution through Christ."
+
+Father Francis sighed.
+
+"So be it then, child, so be it," said he, "but don't break your own
+heart meanwhile."
+
+Nancy made no reply, but stole away to her husband's room. He lay in
+the sort of stupor which took the place of sleep with him, and he
+seemed unconscious of her entrance; but as she bent over him, she heard
+him whisper to himself with a half sob—
+
+"Baby said, 'Desus does love 'oo, dadda!'"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+"THIS IS THE COCK THAT CROWED IN THE MORN."
+
+"IT'S six o'clock, sir, and please here's your shavin' water," said Jim
+Cocks's cheery voice outside Father Francis's bedroom door one morning.
+
+There was an immediate response.
+
+"Have you heard how Mr. Ratcliffe slept?"
+
+"Yes, sir; very bad, I believe," replied Jim; "at least, so Mrs.
+Ratcliffe says, and she do look well-nigh worn out."
+
+Father Francis dressed himself and went to the sick man's room.
+Ratcliffe was sitting, propped up by pillows, and coughing incessantly.
+As the priest entered, he just turned his languid eyes, but left his
+wife to speak for him.
+
+"He has had a very trying night, uncle," said Nancy, "and his cough is
+troublesome. Will you sit down for a few minutes, the cough will soothe
+down presently, and then he will be able to speak to you?"
+
+Father Francis took the offered seat, and presently Ratcliffe was able
+to say, in short, interrupted sentences, "Uncle, I'm sure I haven't
+long to live; my strength is giving way so fast. I want you to do
+something for me."
+
+"Anything you like, my dear boy; anything you like," replied Father
+Francis. "You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."
+
+"Then," said Ratcliffe, "would you be so good as to telegraph my father
+that I'm dying, and that I've something that I must tell him while I
+have the strength, and ask him to come at once, and—"
+
+"My dear fellow," interrupted the old man, "you really are mistaken,
+you're not going to die yet. Please God, we shall have you up and about
+again soon. Don't get low and desponding."
+
+Taking no notice of all this, however, Ratcliffe only said, "Will you
+telegraph what I ask you, please, uncle?"
+
+"Yes," replied Father Francis; "of course I will, if you really wish
+it; but I must say I can't see the need of it myself."
+
+"I think you had better do as he wishes, please, uncle," said Nan,
+gently.
+
+And after writing out a message under Ratcliffe's direction, the old
+man went out on his sad errand.
+
+Ever since his little child's prayer, on the night which we recorded
+in our last chapter, Ratcliffe had been undergoing a rapid and visible
+change. Growing weaker in health, he was strengthening in resolution to
+shake off the trammels of concealment and guilt that had bound him for
+so long, and to be a free man once more.
+
+In the solemn stillness of the many lonely hours which he and Nancy
+passed together, he had told her the story of the crime which
+our readers will not fail to have attributed to him and his evil
+companions; and together the repentant man and his wife petitioned the
+throne of grace for pardon through the Redeemer's name and for His sake.
+
+"I am justly punished for my sin," the young man had said, concluding
+his painful recital. "I met my death at the hand of my own brother
+while I was robbing my own father; but God is merciful as well as just,
+for here is another dying thief turning to Christ at the eleventh hour
+for salvation. Now I know how he felt when he cried, 'Lord, remember me
+when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.'"
+
+There was no more sullenness now; there were no unkind words, no surly
+looks. The sick man was truly penitent and humble, only saddened at the
+thought of harm done that could not be repaired, and those estranged
+who might never be recovered.
+
+As for Nancy, it need scarcely be said how she rejoiced in the blessed
+change that had come over her husband's heart and life; and while tears
+often rained down her face at the thought of losing one who had always
+been dear, and now had grown doubly precious, she thanked God for His
+great mercy in answering her prayers for his salvation.
+
+
+And now, leaving the cottage of Father Francis for a short time, we
+may just glance at "the house that Jack built," and see how the little
+company there are getting on.
+
+It is the mid-day meal, and four persons are sitting at table—John
+Drinkrow and his son, Mrs. Drinkrow and her son Frank, the latter no
+longer tattered and torn, but looking quite respectable. A servant,
+neatly dressed, brings in the dishes and sets them on the table. The
+meal, though not at all extravagant, is plentiful and well served.
+There is a look of comfort, too, about the room; and apparently John
+Drinkrow, at least, is becoming reconciled to the change, through the
+quiet persistency of his wife, and the increased comfort of all his
+surroundings.
+
+Nor had the miser made any great opposition to Frank's remaining in
+the house for a few days, and occupying Ratcliffe's old room. None, at
+least, after his wife had replied to his first objections by saying,
+"Well, John, of course Frank ain't your son, so it ain't a wonder you
+don't want him. He ain't got many days to spend on shore, and I'll tell
+him he'd better go to the Jewel and Crown and get a bed there. After
+all, if he's asked why he don't stay along of his mother, he can say as
+his mother's sitiwated different now, and her husband can't afford to
+feed an extra mouth for four days."
+
+As for Tom, he found his stepmother a far more clever and formidable
+adversary than poor Mrs. Curr had been; and, though he could not but
+enjoy the greater comfort of home, he grudged more than John himself
+did, the additional sum spent upon its attainment.
+
+To her husband—excepting in cases where he was obviously in the
+wrong—Sarah Drinkrow was as obedient and docile a wife as the most
+exacting husband could desire; but Tom's character was one for which
+she had a particular dislike; and, though she carefully avoided
+quarrelling with her stepson, she made him feel that she was a
+controlling influence in the house, and that she neither liked nor
+trusted him.
+
+Once or twice of late she had ventured to speak to her husband about
+his son Ratcliffe, and, by dint of tact and persuasion, got him at last
+to tell her why he had sent him away.
+
+"There don't seem as if there 'd been quite enough reason for your
+turning him off sudden like that, John," said she. "It's one thing to
+punish a lad, or not give him money when he wants it to waste, but it's
+another to disown your own flesh and blood."
+
+The miser excused himself by saying that his conduct was justified by
+Ratcliffe's years of wild life and undutiful behaviour; but his wife's
+words struck a sore spot in his heart notwithstanding.
+
+Of late, the questions of strangers, the parting words of Mrs. Curr,
+and, above all, the absence of news from Ratcliffe himself, had
+disturbed him. In vain he tried as before to stifle all feeling, and
+to become absorbed in his business and his savings. His marriage
+had introduced a new element into his life, and he found himself
+continually going, a step at a time, out of his usual groove, while Tom
+looked on with malicious envy at a change the progress of which he was
+powerless to resist.
+
+Such, then, was the condition of things as the little party of four
+sat round the dinner-table, three listening, while Frank, who was a
+thorough sailor in his love of "yarns" told tales of the sea and of his
+own experience abroad. He was interrupted, however, by the entrance of
+the servant with a telegram, which she handed to John. The old man's
+hand shook as he opened it, and read, but not aloud, the following
+sentence:—
+
+   "From Ratcliffe.—I am dying, and must see you once more. I have
+something to confess, and must ask pardon. Come quickly." This, with
+the address, was all.
+
+The paper dropped out of the miser's hand and fluttered to the floor,
+and the great change in his face showed the genuineness of the shock he
+had received.
+
+His wife got up from her seat, and, coming round, picked up the paper,
+read its contents, and placed it on the table, saying, as she laid her
+hand on her husband's shoulder—
+
+"You will go, of course, John?"
+
+Then Tom also took up the telegram and read it; and, turning to his
+father, said roughly—
+
+"Surely you won't be so silly as to go, father? This is nothing but a
+scheme to take you in, and make you receive Ratcliffe home again. I
+don't believe he's ill a bit. Why should he be?"
+
+Tom's stepmother cast one wrathful look at him, but his father as yet
+was silent. He sat with his head on his hands, and his elbows on the
+table. No one could tell that he had heard his wife, or his son, in
+their conflicting advice. Perhaps he had heard neither. His thoughts
+were busy—strangely so—considering the time and circumstances, with a
+train of memories which Ratcliffe's name and the sudden message had
+called up. Dying! Ratcliffe dying! Could it be possible? After all it
+was not so very long since they had met. He had said to himself again
+and again that he had no love for this undutiful son. Then what was
+it now that hurt him so in the thought that his boy was dying? What a
+pretty little fellow Ratcliffe had been as a tiny child of two years,
+sitting on his mother's knee, and playing with his baby toys! What
+winning ways he had, and what a loving, tender heart!
+
+And so one thing followed another in the old man's mind, till it came
+to that night when he had refused to hear any excuse or explanation
+that his son had to offer, and when, by his unmerciful, unfatherly
+sentence, he had cut him adrift to shift for himself. And not a word
+had come of tidings from this cast-off child—not a word pleading for
+forgiveness, not a petition for help. The first news was to be this,
+this fatal message flashed along the wires, and bearing a blow bitter
+as death itself to the remorseful father's heart.
+
+The miser got up from the table, and, looking like one in a dream,
+staggered into the next room, saying as he did so—
+
+"Come, Sarah."
+
+Mrs. Drinkrow followed him, and so did Tom, unbidden.
+
+"It's nothing but a hoax, father; I assure you it's nothing else.
+'They've' tried every other dodge, and now 'they' start this to work on
+your feelings."
+
+The miser looked up with one of his old suspicious looks.
+
+"What do you mean by 'they,' Tom?" said he, now thoroughly roused.
+"Ratcliffe isn't they."
+
+"No," replied Tom, a cruel pleasure dawning in his face, as now at
+last he thought he held the key to his brother's final and hopeless
+disgrace. "No," he repeated, "not he alone, but he and his wife."
+
+"His wife!" echoed John. "How can he be married?"
+
+"He has been for ever so long," replied Tom; "and there's a child, too.
+See what a deceitful managing fellow he's been—just the one to take you
+in now, and make you believe in that absurd dying."
+
+"Oh, John, John!" cried his wife. "Don't listen to Tom; he's always
+been against his brother. Listen to me, or listen to your own heart,
+which must feel for your child."
+
+The old man raised his head. He was recovering from the shock, and a
+little of his own natural perception and acuteness were returning to
+him.
+
+"Did you say," he questioned, turning to Tom, "that your brother was
+married?"
+
+"Yes, I did," said Tom, triumphantly.
+
+"And that there was a child?"
+
+"And that there is a child," answered Tom, "for I don't suppose
+'that's' gone and died too."
+
+"And you knew of this some time ago?" asked John, with a calmness which
+might well have deceived even a less sanguine man than Tom.
+
+"Yes, sir," replied he, adding, with a hypocritical air, "but of course
+I could not bear to get my brother into trouble by telling of him."
+
+"How 'very' kind and considerate, to be sure!" said Mrs. Drinkrow, with
+a toss of her head that would have thrown Tom into the air, had she
+been an infuriated cow instead of a woman.
+
+"Yes, 'very' kind and considerate," repeated John, with emphasis. Then
+with a sudden, passionate gesture, which seemed but the natural outlet
+for a world of pent-up feeling, he cried—
+
+"Do you mean to say, Tom, that, knowing this, you stood by and let me
+cut the boy off without a shilling, and never said, 'Father, if you do
+this, his wife and child may starve?' His getting married was foolish,
+and his hiding it was wrong, but you've done the wickedest thing of
+all, in not telling me at the right time. Sarah, get my things ready;
+I'm off to my boy by the next train."
+
+Furious at his unexpected defeat, Tom went away to his duties at the
+bar, while John walked upstairs, and his wife, while preparing a
+carpet-bag for the journey, told him such parts of Ratcliffe's story as
+she had heard from Mrs. Curr, and which she thought might still further
+soften the father's heart towards his son.
+
+She was still busily arranging things when John said, "Would you like
+to go with me, wife?"
+
+"Ay, that I should," replied she; "if poor Ratcliffe's so bad, his wife
+and child will need some help, and at least I needn't be in the way."
+
+That night John Drinkrow and his wife were steaming along in the train,
+and Tom, after supplying his latest customers with the slow poison they
+loved, laid his guilty head upon an unquiet pillow, and brooded over
+the failure of his attempt longer to separate father and son.
+
+
+It is not our intention in this story to detail the meeting between
+John and Ratcliffe, or to recount his confession, or the reconciliation
+that followed.
+
+No one was present as the penitent prodigal met his sad and remorseful
+father—as the grievous sin was confessed, and the father forgave, and
+craved forgiveness in the same breath.
+
+But out of that chamber where the shadow of death was already
+gathering, John Drinkrow stepped a changed man; and the prodigal having
+made his peace with his earthly father, now rested tranquil and serene
+in the loving arms of his Father in heaven.
+
+A few more hours and the young man's heart had ceased to beat, and the
+ransomed spirit had gone home to the God who gave it, to the Saviour
+who had purchased it.
+
+Nancy was sitting the same evening in the little kitchen, holding her
+child on her knee, and feeling that but for her she would fain be at
+rest, as was her beloved husband, when all at once a heavy, but not
+ungentle, hand was laid upon her shoulder, and a voice said huskily—
+
+"My girl, I've worked no end of trouble and sorrow in your life, and
+that of my boy that's gone. God forgive me! But now listen, Nancy, and
+believe I mean what I say. My son's wife must make her home with me,
+and so long as I've a crust or—no—so long as I've a piece of gold left,
+you and your child shall share it with me."
+
+A burst of tears was Nancy's only answer, and the child, seeing sorrow
+and sympathy in the rough face bent over her, put up her golden head,
+pouted her red lips, and said,—
+
+"Baby love oo, danpa."
+
+"Now bless her sweet little heart!" sobbed Mrs. Curr, who came in with
+Mrs. Drinkrow at that moment. "And God bless you too, master, which
+you've showed yourself a true father; and the blessing of the widder
+and the fatherless will be your'n for sure, as safe as my name is
+Jemima."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Drinkrow remained in lodgings, close by the good priest's
+cottage, until after the funeral. Then bidding farewell to Father
+Francis and Jim Cocks, the whole party journeyed home to their London
+suburb.
+
+
+But now came a wonderful change in the condition of "the House that
+Jack built."
+
+The strong-room was turned into a bath-room, the iron safe was sold,
+the money invested, and, strangest of all, the tavern was turned into
+a temperance coffee-house, where everything might be obtained except
+intoxicating liquors.
+
+Of course nearly the whole neighbourhood prophesied evil about this
+alteration; but the prophecies were disregarded, the necessary
+alterations went on, and the business was persevered in.
+
+Tom, however, who was among the loudest of the grumblers, found that no
+attention was paid to anything he said, and, taking offence at this,
+he soon told his father that he should look-out for a situation which
+might suit him better than the new work of "the House that Jack built."
+
+John made no objection to this. Tom's character had grown very
+distasteful to him, and though he kept faithfully a promise he had
+made to Ratcliffe, never to tell Tom that he had been the means of his
+brother's death, yet the fact was not forgotten by the father, and he
+was not sorry when Tom took himself off, having obtained a situation in
+a public-house at some distance.
+
+There we leave Thomas Drinkrow, certain that, though he has not
+received actual punishment for his hardheartedness and deceit, yet that
+such a heart constitutes its own punishment; and, however vindictively
+we may feel towards him, we can wish him nothing worse.
+
+As for Mrs. Curr, she took a little room near, and used often to pop in
+for a chat with "Sairey Ann," or to play with the pet and darling of
+the house, little Maida, of whom she was increasingly fond.
+
+Our friend Nancy was thankful to work hard, and try to forget her
+loneliness, in the duties of helping to get and keep a new business;
+and her sweet face and gentle manner did not a little in the way of
+attracting customers.
+
+Frank Moo went back to sea, but made occasional visits to his mother
+when his ship happened to be in port. He was a great favourite with his
+stepfather, who always gave him a hearty welcome.
+
+And with this summing-up our story comes to a close. Nor need we add
+any moral, for if characters and incidents convey no lesson, vain
+indeed will have been our writing, and your perusal, dear readers, of—
+
+                   "THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT."
+
+
+
+                         [Illustration]
+
+                         ANOTHER MOSES.
+
+                          ————————————
+
+IT was night—or at least the time that seems to belong rather to the
+night than to the day—about two o'clock. A gusty night, too, for
+August, but not cold; and the moon now and then stole from behind a
+cloud and shone down upon the mud-flats and low marsh-land, and upon
+the dark, sullen tidal river that flowed through them, on which, where
+the stream met the sea, stood the fishing village of Orlmuck.
+
+It was a desolate, solitary scene. Far away, nearer the sea-line,
+glimmered the light in a coast-guard's cabin, and a few sheep dotted
+the dark green of the grass here and there; but these did not take
+from the weirdness of the place, nor break the stillness which the
+thickening fog made more deathlike.
+
+Suddenly, out of the mists and under the moon, emerged a woman carrying
+a child in her arms. Her long, black hair streamed out on the wind
+behind her; her head had no other covering.
+
+The wan light above rested on the pale, wild face and horror-stricken
+eyes, and the wind itself, as it moaned along the marsh and ruffled
+the surface of the winding river, might have shuddered at the strange
+words that she uttered as she flitted along the slimy mud-bank by the
+water-side.
+
+There was madness in the eager yet shrinking gaze that bent itself
+upon the sullen depths beneath her. Madness in the passionate kisses
+which ever and anon she pressed upon the child's cheeks and lips. Wild,
+despairing madness in the resolute white mouth, with its set teeth.
+
+At length she paused, took off her shawl and folded it round the little
+boy, looking into his quiet sleeping face with a strange expression
+of sorrowful love and mad resolve. But now she turned her head away,
+and gazed steadfastly for a moment or two upon the river, murmuring
+hurriedly to herself, "He must go! He cannot live without his mother,
+and deserted by his own father. He must die, and this is the best I can
+do for him. I shall follow him directly. There, darling, one more kiss,
+and good-bye!"
+
+So saying, her lips touched his forehead, then she raised him in both
+arms and, with a low cry, threw him down the bank into the water.
+
+When she had done this, she clapped both hands to her ears and darted
+away along the river-side as though she dreaded to hear the voice of
+the little one whom she had left to perish.
+
+Swiftly she passed on to the spot where she intended to end her own
+wretched life. But we need not follow her, for we have only to do with
+the child—the poor forsaken babe. In the mother's haste, and in her
+horror lest she should see the little one's struggles in the water, she
+had not calculated upon the distance between her and the sullen flow of
+the river. She had thrown him from her, as we have seen, down the bank;
+but, as it happened, the tide was ebbing fast, and though where the
+child fell there was water, it was only a few inches deep, not enough
+to drown him; and even this in half an hour ebbed away, leaving the
+deserted little fellow vainly trying to clamber out of the mud.
+
+At last, quite exhausted with his efforts and in vain cries for his
+mother, he laid his curly head on a stone half buried in the mud, and
+fell asleep, just as the dawn was throwing open the black gates of
+night and bringing in a new day.
+
+And with the new day comes a brighter picture for our readers, for
+as the sun rose, and began to cheer the world, and to gild even the
+dark mud-flats and light up the murky river, Jael Jones, old Fisher
+Jones's only child, came from her home for her usual morning run before
+breakfast. Fisher Jones's cottage stood just outside the village, and
+not far from the bit of sandy beach strewn with shells, that showed
+where the river ended and the sea began.
+
+A strange man was Peter Jones—or Bible Jones, as his fellow-fishermen
+called him from his wonderful knowledge of the Holy Book, and his great
+love for it. Not that they named him thus in ridicule, however; not a
+man amongst them would have laughed at him, they respected him far too
+much for that. But somehow the name of Bible Jones had been given him,
+and the old man felt it an honour and a privilege, and accepted it as
+such.
+
+He had married late in life, and had made—at least, so folks said—not
+the wisest choice in the world.
+
+Mrs. Jones was a good-hearted woman, but she had been in service in
+what she considered grand families, and had acquired a few notions
+which had not improved her.
+
+It was reported among the villagers that Peter Jones would never have
+asked her to be his wife but for one thing, which made him decide in
+her favour. He had heard, through a friend and fellow-servant of hers,
+what an industrious, hard-working woman Catherine Gobie was, and how,
+when she dusted her master's library, her greatest care was to keep
+from every speck of dust the big Bible used at prayers in the family
+every night and morning.
+
+"Such a woman," thought Peter, "must be a treasure; for if she thinks
+so much of the mere cover of the Holy Book, how much more she will
+value its sacred teachings!" And arguing thus in his honest, simple
+heart, he went to Catherine Gobie, and offered her his hand, and they
+were married in a month's time.
+
+Alas! Poor Peter soon discovered that his wife's interest in the Bible
+did not get much beyond the binding, and also that she had but little
+sympathy with him in his Christian life, or indeed power to understand
+his feelings. But when a daughter was born to them, a precious gift of
+God to his old age, Peter began to feel comforted, and more hopeful.
+This little one should be early taught out of the Blessed Book; its
+narratives, its characters, and maxims should form part of her life.
+He named her Jael in a burst of enthusiastic admiration for the
+unflinching, courageous patriotism of the wife of Heber the Kenite,
+though perhaps he would scarcely have chosen (could he have done so)
+the same sort of character for his child.
+
+As she grew older, his great pleasure was in storing her memory with
+sacred lore, and in leading her young heart through all the beautiful
+outer courts of the Old Testament Scripture to the real Holy of Holies
+where Christ Himself, seen afar off before, now had become known as the
+Lover and Saviour of men, and—as Jael early believed, and rejoiced to
+think—of little children too.
+
+And now Jael was nine years old, a light-hearted, loving-natured,
+impulsive child, yet with every feeling and thought coloured and
+impressed by the religious training which made part of her life.
+
+It was no want of reverence that caused little Jael to associate Bible
+characters with the most common scenes and practical incidents of her
+everyday life.
+
+She had always thought that it must have been on just such a strip of
+sandy beach as that near Orlmuck that Jesus was walking when He called
+the fishermen to be His disciples. Every bald head suggested Elisha.
+A glorious sunset of crimson, fire, and gold gave her solemn thoughts
+of Elijah and the chariot and horses of fire; and she had all her life
+imagined that the mantle that fell from the great prophet as he left
+the earth, and that was the symbol of power to Elisha, must have been
+just like that black silk mantilla that her mother was married in, and
+that was only produced now on rare occasions of becoming gravity and
+importance.
+
+She recalled Solomon, and longed for something of his wisdom as she
+picked a wild flower which to her was without a name. The village
+church was the temple; and pretty, pensive Mrs. Williams, taking her
+boy Johnnie to morning Sunday-school, might have been Hannah of old
+leading her little Samuel to dedicate him to the temple service.
+
+Two brothers, joiners, who lived at a short distance from Peter's
+cottage, were just what she had fancied Jacob and Esau to be, and she
+was hardly four years old when she astonished one of them (a hairy,
+rough-looking fellow) by asking him if he'd "been naughty and sold his
+'birt-right.'"
+
+The blacksmith, the giant of Orlmuck, was another Goliath, only good
+instead of wicked, and David was represented to Jael's mind by the
+rosy-checked, fair-haired lad who came now and then on to the green
+flats to look after the sheep, and occasionally give them a feed of
+turnips and mangel-wurzel.
+
+Such then were little Jael's associations; but any one who had seen
+her on this bright August morning, would have felt sure that whatever
+influence the Bible might have had over her life, at least it was no
+painful or saddening one, for never was there a sunnier face, nor a
+step more light, nor a voice more blithe in its joyous, lark-like
+carolling. And now, as she bounded along the grass by the river, her
+close-cropped brown waves of hair taking a golden shade from the sun,
+it would have been hard to find a little maiden happier or more light
+of heart.
+
+Suddenly her springing step was checked. For one instant the colour
+left her cheek, then came back in a flood of crimson glow.
+
+There, on the mud-bank at her very feet, partly wrapped in an old
+shawl, which the sun and wind had not yet dried—there with hair
+dripping and matted, and poor wee hands scratched with sharp flints and
+broken shells, and dyed in the black ooze of the river—there, with his
+little golden head pillowed on a flat stone, lay a child, perhaps two
+years of age, and fast asleep.
+
+Down on her knees beside him, in a wandering ecstasy, went Jael, and
+peered into the sleeper's face; but the eyes did not open, and save for
+the heaving of the tiny chest, she would have thought it was a drowned
+child, such as the one her father had seen washed up on the beach long
+years ago.
+
+The little girl's mind and heart were full of mingled thoughts and
+feelings as she stood looking at her new treasure.
+
+No doubt, she said to herself, God had sent her this child because He
+knew she had no brothers and sisters. Perhaps He had even worked a
+miracle as He used to do in the old times, and her heart in its simple
+faith went out in grateful, childlike thanksgiving. The thought never
+crossed her mind that the little one could be claimed by any one else;
+God had guided her to him, and she felt sure that he now belonged to
+her, and to her only.
+
+"You're my boy, now," she whispered, in tender tones. And lifting the
+child in her strong, muscular young arms, she carried him back across
+the flat, towards her home.
+
+He woke up on the way and moaned a little, and she soothed him with
+gentle caresses like a wee mother.
+
+With a glad face yet solemn eyes, full of a new care and
+responsibility, she entered the cottage and walked straight up to her
+father, who sat with his great Bible open, waiting for Jael to come
+home to prayers.
+
+"See, father, see!" she said. "God has sent me this little boy to love
+and take care of."
+
+She paused a moment, while old Peter looked over his spectacles at her
+in speechless wonder. Then she added gravely, in low, clear tones,—
+
+"And she called his name Moses: and she said, Because I drew him out of
+the water."
+
+"I say, Peter," remarked Mrs. Jones to her husband that night, "you
+ain't a-goin' to give in to that child's odd notions, surely? You won't
+keep the little boy? Jael's that stupid in Bibly stories that I'll be
+bound she'll think herself a Ethiopian stranger princess next, and
+bound to save every foundlin' she come across."
+
+"If, Catherine, you mean Pharaoh's daughter, she was 'Egyptian,'"
+responded Peter, who often had to set his wife right on such subjects.
+
+"Well, Peter, and pray what do it matter?" exclaimed Mrs. Jones,
+peevishly. "Them outlandish creatures is all alike. To my mind a
+foundlin's a foundlin', and ought to be give up to the parish."
+
+"I'm loth to do that till I hear something more about the child and
+how it came there," said Peter, quietly. "Our little maid has no
+companions, and she seems to have set her heart on this boy, which now
+he's washed and tidied up, he do seem a sweet little fellow."
+
+"How can you tell, though, what he's sprung from?" remarked Mrs. Jones,
+severely. "It may be from the lowest of the low. You forget that
+we're respectable folk, Peter; leastways, though I may be mistook,
+I've always thought so; and we musn't go for to do anything as ain't
+becomin' to our respectableness."
+
+Peter looked up. "I'll do nothing, wife," said he, "what 'll get you
+nor any of us into trouble. But afore we hold our heads so high and
+think of others being low, let's think of the Master who never once, as
+I knows on, asked whether a child was respectable born and brought up
+afore He stretched out His arms and said, 'Suffer the little children
+to come unto Me, and forbid them not.' Don't forget, Catherine, that of
+such is the kingdom of heaven."
+
+"Bible again!" sighed Catherine. "I never see such a man! I believe, if
+I told you your shirts was wearin' out and would have to be re-fronted,
+you'd find some reason out of the Bible why I should or why I shouldn't
+do them."
+
+Peter said nothing to this. His wife's opinions were not new to him,
+and his forbearance was often severely taxed. If Catherine had but
+realised that it was from the comfort and teaching of the Holy Book
+that Peter drew his wonderful patience and gentleness towards herself,
+perhaps she would have refrained sometimes from nagging at her husband.
+But she was a woman who had no keen perceptions or delicate feelings,
+neither was she accustomed to restrain her words. So Peter's lot was
+not without its trials, and, but for his child, he would have had but
+little pleasure or satisfaction in his married life.
+
+Jael, however, was a great comfort and blessing. Her fresh young life
+made him recall the days of his youth; and her quick understanding of
+the things that interested him most brought her more into sympathy with
+him than could have been possible otherwise. Child though she was, her
+faith was hardly more simple than was that of her father, and to him
+she could pour out her childish thoughts and feelings, sure of being
+understood and helped.
+
+The next day came the sad news that the body of a woman had been
+found on the shore a mile beyond Orlmuck, but that no clue had been
+discovered as to who she was. There was nothing to connect the child
+with this dead woman, however.
+
+And Peter Jones now felt that whose ever the little boy was, he might
+keep him at least until he was claimed. So one evening, some little
+time after, he called Jael to him, and said, "I think, little daughter,
+we needn't fear now that the child will be taken away from us. He will
+belong to our family, and mother and father will try to be kind to him
+and teach him to be good, and I know my little Jael will do the same."
+
+Jael glanced up in her father's face.
+
+The doubt of being able to keep Moses had not as yet crossed her mind,
+because she had felt so sure that God had sent him to her. At last she
+said, "Father, no one but God shall take Moses away from me. If He
+calls him, I'll let him go, but not to nobody else."
+
+Fisher Jones said no more, and from this time Moses became a member of
+the family, and Jael's great delight.
+
+Nor Jael's alone. Peter grew to love the sunny little face and golden
+head that nestled up against his knee when he came in from his fishing
+and sat down in the chimney corner.
+
+At first the little fellow would cry for his mother in pitiful tones,
+and shrank from Peter and Catherine; but after a while, he grew
+reconciled to the faces of the old people, and began to show real
+affection for Peter. To Jael he took a fancy from the beginning,
+toddling after her wherever she went, and calling out "Jai! Jai!!"
+which was the nearest approach he could make to her name, while Jael
+acted the careful mother to perfection.
+
+It was Jael who washed and dressed the child in the morning.
+
+One day Mrs. Jones tried the experiment of getting him ready, but she
+never tried it again. The little fellow did nothing but sob and cry all
+the time in the most heartbroken way, gasping out, "Jai, tum to Mo!
+Jai, tum, tum!"
+
+He had accepted his name of Moses at once, and always spoke of himself
+as Mo or Baby, seeming to know no other. By the neighbours he was
+called "Old Bible's boy," and the history of his finding made him quite
+an object of interest to those who would otherwise have taken no notice
+of him.
+
+Jael had for two years belonged to a day-school at Orlmuck, and as
+there was a room for infants as well, it was thought best that Mo
+should become a scholar. Accordingly the two children trudged off
+together every day across the grass plots to the village, past the very
+place where the little one had been found. And very proud and happy was
+Jael when she heard other children saying, as she passed them, "There
+goes Bible Jones's girl and her boy."
+
+But even the possession of her new treasure was not quite unmixed
+pleasure for Jael. Mo was the cause sometimes of a deal of anxiety and
+trouble.
+
+For instance, one day all the children of the boys', girls', and
+infants' schools had come out into the playground for half an hour's
+recess, and to eat the luncheon they had brought with them.
+
+The night before, Mrs. Jones had made a small seed-cake for her two
+little people, and now Jael cut it in half and gave Mo his portion.
+The little fellow was just beginning to eat the tempting morsel when a
+boy, rather bigger and older than Jael, walked up to him, and snatching
+the cake out of his hand, gave him a blow on the side of the head
+which sent the child staggering up against the fence near which he was
+standing.
+
+Moses, who did not resemble his illustrious namesake as yet in meekness
+and patience, set up a howl of indignation and pain, and made a little
+feeble rush—baby-like—to revenge his wrongs with his tiny fists. But
+his champion was too quick for him. Jael threw her bit of cake into the
+child's hands and darted like a little fury upon the boy, her cheeks
+crimson, her great eyes flashing, while the cowardly bully, astonished
+and somewhat frightened, retreated to the other side of the ground,
+hooted and laughed at by all the other boys.
+
+After that Mo was usually pretty safe from insult; still, he always
+kept as near to his young protectress as he possibly could.
+
+But that night when Jael said her prayers at her father's knee as
+usual, she amazed him rather by commencing with the words, "Blessed is
+the Lord which teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight." But
+his eyes grew moist and glistening when her voice dropped into tones
+of penitence, and she added in her own simple style, "But, please God,
+I'm afraid I get too angry, 'cause I scratched as well as hit. But,
+O Lord, Thou knows why it all was, and how I love little Mo what I
+pulled out of the mud, and what's too small to fight with Joe Brown
+himself. And I hope it wasn't no worse than David fightin' the lion and
+the bear to save the lamb of the flock—'cause Joe's just like a wild
+beast sometimes; and if he'd had a beard, I'd have took him by it like
+David—only I'm glad he hadn't, for p'r'aps I'd have slew him, and then
+I'd have been sorry. But now, please God, let everybody be very good
+to little Mo, for he hasn't no father nor mother, and he's such a tiny
+fellow still, and make me very patient and kind, and help me to train
+him up in the way he should go, for Christ's sake. Amen."
+
+Any one but old Peter would have smiled at this prayer—the outpouring
+of the full little heart accustomed to tell God everything. But Peter
+only wiped a tear from his cheek and kissed Jael more tenderly even
+than usual as she said good night. For the world he would not have
+checked the innocent confidence of that child-heart—a heart so tender
+and frank and true, and that realised so vividly the Heavenly Father's
+presence.
+
+
+We have seen that Jael was not one of those faultless children whom we
+sometimes find in books, but rarely, if ever, in real life. We have had
+occasion to notice that she had a quick, hot temper, which soon rose
+when provoked.
+
+Very specially she resented any interference in her management of
+little Moses, or fault found with what concerned them both; and now and
+then Mrs. Jones was the cause of naughtiness and distress without at
+all meaning it.
+
+One holiday Jael and Moses were playing together in Jael's room—a tiny
+place opening out of her father's and mother's apartment, and just big
+enough for her bed and little Mo's crib, and a wee space on the floor.
+
+A kind carpenter at Orlmuck had made the children a box of blocks, and
+with these they were very fond of building.
+
+A Noah's Ark, with the box-lid for the bottom, was often launched
+upon the mighty deluge of the floor boards, with a priceless freight
+of living creatures in the shape of shells, old cotton-bobbins, and
+similar cargo. Or a Tower of Babel reared its stately pile against the
+wall under the window, toppling over at last through some oversight on
+the part of the little architects and builders.
+
+Jael's and Mo's amusements were nearly all of a grave and Scriptural
+character—indeed, it seemed as if the little girl was so steeped in
+Bible stories and their spirit, that whatever she did took the form of
+something she had read in or heard from the good old Book.
+
+On this day in particular Jael had been telling her little companion,
+in the simplest words she could command, of the great Moses whose
+namesake he was, and who led the children of Israel out of dark, cruel
+Egypt, where they had been so badly treated and made to work so hard.
+To make things plainer to the child's baby mind, Jael conceived the
+ingenious plan of illustrating everything with the blocks, and thus,
+with a big block for Moses, a host of smaller ones for the children of
+Israel, the dark space under the bed for Egypt, and a large wash-hand
+basin for the Red Sea, she managed at last to interest Mo in the
+stirring story of Israel's escape.
+
+But just as she had got to the triumphant landing of the favoured
+people on the other side, the door opened, and Mrs. Jones appeared.
+
+"Oh, my gracious!" exclaimed the good woman. "What's all this mess for?
+Really, Jael, you ought to know better than to teach Mo such naughty
+untidy ways. Get that wash-basin up at once, and put it back in its
+place."
+
+"Oh, mother, we've got nothing else for the Red Sea!" pleaded poor
+Jael, who had thoroughly entered into the spirit of the story, and had
+been gratified with little Mo's evident interest and pleasure.
+
+"Red Sea, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones. "What has the Red Sea to do
+with you?"
+
+"'Tisn't for us, it's for the children of Israel," replied Jael,
+somewhat nettled that her mother could not understand.
+
+"For the children of Israel? What does the child mean?" said Catherine.
+"Children of Israel, indeed! I think I've enough to do with the
+children of Peter Jones!"
+
+"Dese b'ocks is til'en of Is'el," lisped little Mo, proudly pointing
+out the wooden host; "and dere's big Mo."
+
+"What humbug and nonsense!" responded Mrs. Jones. "You tell that child
+such rubbish, Jael, I'm ashamed of you. A great girl like you ought to
+know better."
+
+"Mother, mother, 'tisn't true! I never teach Mo nothing naughty. He
+couldn't understand about the Israelites and all that, so I showed him
+with the blocks, and told him the story that way, and put a basin for
+the Red Sea."
+
+"If you're a-goin' for to say to your own mother as she's a liar, Miss
+Jael, I shall just speak to your father. The idea of tellin' me to my
+face as I said what wasn't true! Now set to work and clear away them
+Ishmaelites and that there Dead Sea, and all the nonsense, and give Mo
+his ball to play with, and you go and get your towels to hem."
+
+"Oh, mother! Mayn't we just finish?" cried Jael. "We'd brought the
+Israelites to the other side, and the Egyptians are all drowned and
+dead, and we was going to have the song of triumph."
+
+"You'll sing another sort of song if you say a word more!" said Mrs.
+Jones, now really vexed, and, taking up the Red Sea, she emptied it and
+the Egyptians into her pail, the unhappy pursuers being represented by
+some scraps of blue sugar-loaf paper.
+
+Jael looked up in her mother's face, the colour flashing angrily into
+her own, and said she, "Father wouldn't have done that! Only you call
+things naughty that isn't; and you're very unkind, and you set me tasks
+just like the naughty Egyptians, and you make me to serve with rigour!"
+
+This last sentence came out with grand emphasis. Jael was not very
+sure of its meaning, but she thought it sounded well, and now, in her
+passion, she felt inclined to put things as strongly as possible.
+
+The only answer to her rude, angry speech was a box on the ear and a
+hearty shake, which raised Jael's temper to boiling-point, and sent
+little Mo into a fit of terror and sobbing, during which Mrs. Jones
+went out of the room and left the children to themselves.
+
+To do Catherine Jones justice, she was really wishful to do what was
+right, but she had some set notions, and her want of sympathy with
+her husband, and understanding of "his" character, prevented her
+understanding Jael's also.
+
+To go out of the room, however, after the storm we have just described,
+was about the wisest thing she could have done under the circumstances,
+for Jael, no longer opposed, came to herself, a process helped somewhat
+by poor Mo's distress.
+
+"Don't cry, darlin'," whispered the little adopted mother, drawing
+the frightened child towards her from the corner where he had placed
+himself with his face to the wall. "Don't cry, Mo; come to Jae." And
+sitting down on the floor all among the wooden Israelites, she took the
+little one on to her lap, and, comforting him, forgot in part her own
+anger and misery.
+
+Mrs. Jones, who had perhaps some few pangs of conscience for having
+so completely lost her temper, did not come near the children again
+for the rest of the afternoon, and when Peter returned home about six
+o'clock he was surprised that neither Jael nor Mo ran, after their
+usual fashion, to meet him.
+
+"Where are the children, wife?" he asked, as he entered the kitchen.
+
+"Upstairs somewhere," replied Catherine. "I've been too busy to attend
+to them these two hours or more."
+
+The old man went to the foot of the staircase and called softly, "Jael,
+Mo, father's come home."
+
+Then, receiving no answer, and not hearing the patter of their little
+feet, he went up.
+
+His own door stood open, but Jael's was shut. He opened it noiselessly,
+and spied his daughter sitting on the floor and leaning against the
+bed, with Mo in her lap. Both children were fast asleep, and there were
+traces of tears on each face, showing to Peter's quick eye that there
+had been a storm of some sort.
+
+Gently he laid his hand on Jael's head, saying, "Tea-time, my girl.
+Come down and have tea with father."
+
+Then taking little Mo up in his arms, he carried him down, while Jael
+remained behind to wash the tear-stains from her cheeks.
+
+"Jael," said Peter that night, when the little maiden came to say her
+prayers at his knee, "what happened to you and Moses this afternoon?
+Had you been naughty?"
+
+"Not Mo, but 'I' had, father. I was cross to mother."
+
+"Tell father all about it," said Peter, in the tender voice that always
+drew out of Jael's heart all her troubles and their pain.
+
+Then Jael began at the beginning, keeping back none of the truth,
+and telling all in the simple child-language which is more eloquent,
+because unconsciously so, than the studied speech of the wisest man.
+
+"You were very wrong, my child," said Peter, as she finished. "It was
+your duty to do at once what mother wished, even if you saw no harm in
+your game. Children, obey your parents in all things: you know where
+that is written, Jael?"
+
+"Yes, father," whispered Jael.
+
+"Have you told mother you're sorry?"
+
+"No, father."
+
+"Then do so before you sleep. You'll rest all the better for God's
+forgiveness, and hers too. God bless you, my little daughter."
+
+As Jael went out, she met Catherine.
+
+"Mother," said she, penitently, "I was naughty to get so cross with you
+this afternoon; please forgive me."
+
+Mrs. Jones stooped down and kissed the child. "Forgive you, Jael? Of
+course I will. Why, bless you, my girl, I lost my temper too, it's only
+right to say. 'Tain't often as I lay a finger on you, is it, Jael? And
+I'm sorry I did it, but I was vexed, and didn't stop to think. Forgive
+me, too, Jael, and then we'll be quits."
+
+If Mrs. Jones had thought for a month, she could not have taken a
+better method of effacing the unpleasant little episode from the
+child's mind.
+
+The mother's frank confession that she also had been in the wrong made
+Jael's generous heart doubly sorry, and she respected the humility that
+was willing to acknowledge a fault to a child.
+
+Impulsively she threw her arms round Catherine's neck, and a few tears
+were shed on both sides ere mother and child parted for the night.
+
+
+Winter had come; the Christmas holidays had begun for Jael and Mo. It
+was a mild Christmas this year, no frost or snow, only plenty of wind
+and a glorious wild sea dashing up on the beach all along the coast
+beyond Orlmuck.
+
+Jael and Mo were two hardy little creatures, and nothing gave them so
+much pleasure as to race along the shore, at the foot of the cliffs,
+picking up shells, and now and then a bit of amber, listening to the
+roar of the sea, and watching its great hoary breakers come rolling in,
+flinging their white spray in clouds as they broke.
+
+Jael knew about the tides as well as any fisherman on the coast, so
+there was no danger of the children being caught by the rising water at
+any time, and Peter never felt uneasy about them. Often they would be
+out for hours, running about and playing, then coming home with rosy
+checks and bright eyes, all the rosier and the brighter for the brisk
+healthful exercise in the strong salt wind.
+
+But one day Jael and Mo had wandered away farther than usual, a long
+distance beyond Orlmuck, to quite a lonely part of the coast. Jael had
+heard that there were caves somewhere there, and her curiosity and love
+of adventure had been strongly excited. It was rather a long walk for
+Mo, but Jael carried him on her back when he complained of being weary,
+and now they stood close by the rocky cliff where the caves were said
+to be.
+
+Poking and peering into all the corners and holes, at last Jael gave a
+cry of triumph and delight.
+
+"Hurrah! Here it is, Mo! Here's a real live cave at last!"
+
+And she went a few steps in, leading the child by the hand. But it
+was rather dark, and Mo was frightened and began to cry, and so, very
+unwillingly, Jael turned and came out, as the child would not wait for
+her alone outside. However, it was just as well that she did so, for
+she found that the tide was rising, and that they would on this account
+have had but few spare minutes for exploring the cave.
+
+Accordingly they set out towards home. Mo was tired and did not chatter
+incessantly as usual, and Jael was left very much to her own thoughts.
+
+The discovery of the cave had recalled to her memory all the stories
+about caves that she had either read or heard, and she longed to know
+more about the one she had just discovered. Why, the Bible itself spoke
+of caves! Did not David and his followers hide in caves when pursued
+by Saul? Did not Obadiah hide those fifty prophets in a cave during
+the persecutions of weak, wicked Ahab and his cruel wife? Had not her
+father told her of the people of God in later days, who hid themselves
+in caves and holes of the earth that there they might worship in their
+own way?
+
+And, indeed, there were some strange stories told about the caves upon
+this very coast. Years ago smugglers made use of them for storing their
+ill-gotten wealth, and not so very long since, some treasure had been
+found in a cave—treasure which must have belonged to those long dead.
+
+Altogether there was a mysterious interest surrounding caves in
+general, and it had long been Jael's wish to discover one, penetrate to
+its darkest corners, and see if she too could not find some treasure
+which should make the family rich all their lives.
+
+Not that she wanted to be rich so far as she herself was concerned,
+for she was a contented child enough, and quite satisfied with her lot
+in life, but she had formed great plans for Moses, and had made up her
+mind that he must grow up to be a great and clever man, and do some
+grand work like the leader and lawgiver of old. Of course the little
+girl was rather misty in her ideas about Mo's future, but she liked to
+think that her boy was destined for a noble and useful life, and she
+wished she had plenty of money, so that as he grew older, he might go
+to good schools, and see the world, and learn a great deal, and fit
+himself for what might be.
+
+Jael's mind was full of all this as she led the little one home that
+winter afternoon. They had gone about half the distance, and Jael was
+just calculating how long it would take for the tide to get up to the
+foot of the cliff, and whether it would be better to clamber up the
+sheep-path now, and walk homeward across the downs, or quicken their
+pace and keep to the shore,—when she saw a man coming towards them.
+
+As he drew nearer, she could see that he was rather tall with very
+long dark hair and a bushy black beard; but what was visible of his
+complexion was fair, and his eyes, Jael noticed, were of that bright
+blue which you sometimes see with golden hair and a very white skin.
+
+As he met the children, he stared at them so hard that Jael wondered.
+He was quite a stranger to her, and she could not understand why he
+should look at them so steadfastly. He had hardly gone two steps
+farther when he came back and overtook them, saying to Jael:
+
+"What is your name, little girl?"
+
+"Jael Jones, sir," replied Jael.
+
+The man did not speak like a common person, and though he was dressed
+in working-clothes, Jael could not help feeling that he was not in her
+father's station of life.
+
+"And this little fellow?" questioned the stranger, laying a hand on
+Mo's head, which was enveloped, cap and all, in a little shawl of
+Jael's, and showed only a pair of bright eyes and rosy cheeks.
+
+"His name is Moses, sir. We live up there by the river, on the Flats.
+Father's a fisherman. But, please, sir, we mustn't stand talking,
+'cause we've not too much time to get home afore the tide rises, and
+father will be anxious."
+
+The man looked towards the sea.
+
+"Yes," said he, "it is coming up fast, and I've a long way to go still.
+Good-by, little people!" And off he strode, taking the way the children
+had just come, while Jael and Mo hurried on, managing to pass the last
+point of cliff before the water reached its foot.
+
+After that, they slackened their speed, and Jael carried Mo for some
+little distance across the Flats, reaching home just as the short
+winter twilight was deepening into night.
+
+At tea Jael told her father about the finding of the cave, and also how
+she and Mo had met a stranger, who had stopped to speak to them, and
+asked them who they were.
+
+"What sort of a looking man?" questioned Peter, with a look of eager
+interest, which Jael could not understand.
+
+"Why, a tall man, father, with long black hair and a big beard, and
+such blue eyes; as blue, I do think, as little Mo's."
+
+"'Dark' hair and beard, you say, little daughter? 'Quite dark?' You're
+sure it wasn't curly light hair?"
+
+Jael laughed.
+
+"'Quite' sure, father," said she.
+
+"Was he a stranger, think you, Jael, or one of our village folk?"
+
+"Oh, a stranger, of course. But strangers 'does' come to Orlmuck
+sometimes, father."
+
+"Yes, yes, child, of course they does," replied Peter, and there the
+conversation dropped.
+
+
+But when the children had gone to bed, Catherine said to her husband,
+"I say, Peter, what made you so particular about knowing all Jael could
+tell you of that there man as the chicks met on the sands?"
+
+"Well, the truth is, wife," replied Peter, "they tell me at Orlmuck
+that the police is on the lookout for a man what is thought to be in
+hidin' somewhere in this neighbourhood."
+
+"In hidin'? Why, what has he done?"
+
+"They say he is one of two travellers for a London house of business,
+and that a while ago—I don't rightly know how—they made away with a
+lot of money as was to have been paid into the bank. One of them went
+off and got clear to America, but the other only reached some town
+about ten miles away from Orlmuck. They tracked him as far as this, but
+there they lost sight of him. Still they think he can't have got much
+farther, and certainly not by train anywheres, for all the stations has
+been telegraphed to, and he'd have been stopped afore now."
+
+"But sure you don't think, Peter, that that there man as the children
+met on the shore was him? Why, bless me! What he mightn't have done to
+them!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones.
+
+Peter smiled.
+
+"The man who would rob his master may yet not be the man' to hurt a
+child, especially as he couldn't hope to get anything by it," replied
+he. "But, Catherine, I don't think it was that man at all. The
+description of this fellow the police is after is that he's fair, very
+good looking, and gentlemanly, with golden curly hair, and a fair skin
+and a smooth face; and the party Jael met has dark hair and a great
+beard. Now ain't it on the face of it as the two men can't be the
+same?" And Mrs. Jones was obliged to confess that it certainly was.
+
+
+The children's holidays were in all three weeks, and more than a
+fortnight was already past. Jael knew that when the vacation was over
+she should not be able to gratify her great wish to explore the cave
+she had found. The days were very short now, and as she should always
+have lessons to prepare after dinner as soon as her holidays were over,
+the afternoon would be broken into, and she could not get back before
+dark, much less allow herself any time there for searching the holes
+and corners of that dark mysterious place.
+
+Again, she had made up her mind not to take Mo. The child had been
+frightened on the last occasion, and Jael was quite determined not to
+try him a second time.
+
+So, directly after the early dinner one forenoon, she sallied out with
+Mo, and took him to a neighbour's near, where he often went to play
+with a little boy about his own age.
+
+Then, with a box of matches and a piece of candle in her pocket, and
+her basket on her arm, intended for the carrying of what treasures
+she might find, away she went, her young nimble feet going dancing
+along the shore, swifter than the great sea waves that were ebbing
+and leaving foamy tracks on the yellow sands. Now that she had not Mo
+to consider, she could go quickly, and a walk of about an hour and
+a quarter brought her to the cave. She paused at the entrance and
+listened for a moment before going in, but she heard not a sound. Then
+in she stole, eager and curious, but not a bit frightened, conscious
+only of a pleasant mysterious feeling, as though she were on the eve of
+a discovery.
+
+She made a few steps forward, the light from the entrance being
+sufficient for her to see her way for a short distance. Another yard or
+two, and the darkness became such that she could not see an inch before
+her.
+
+To take out her matches and light her candle was the work of an
+instant, and holding it above her head, she looked round and saw that
+she was in a roomy cave, not very high but broad, and apparently
+extending farther into the rock. The sand under her feet was quite deep
+and dry, showing that the tide did not penetrate beyond the mouth of
+the cavern.
+
+"I will go on till I find the end of this cave," said Jael to herself.
+
+And still holding her light aloft, and treading cautiously, she
+advanced, step by step, till the walls began to narrow, and at last
+there was no possibility of advancing, except through a hole in the
+rock, just large enough to admit a full-grown person.
+
+It was not difficult for Jael to scramble through, and as she did
+so, and looked about her, she found herself in a spacious, vaulted
+rock-hall, far larger than the adjoining outer cave.
+
+She was moving on to examine a little more carefully her new
+surroundings, when suddenly her light was blown out from behind, and
+she felt herself pinioned by a pair of strong arms, while a voice said,
+sternly, "What are you about here? Speak quick, or it will be the worse
+for you!"
+
+"I came to see what the cave was like," replied Jael, trying to speak
+calmly, but with her heart thumping like a steam-engine.
+
+"How did you know there was a cave here? Who told you?" asked the voice
+again.
+
+"No one. I found it out myself the other day. I had heard folks say
+that there was caves along this coast, and I'd always wanted to find
+one, but I didn't come far last time, 'cause I'd Mo with me, and the
+tide was risin' beside; so I came by myself to-day to have another try.
+And please don't hold me so tight, sir, it hurts my arms, and I won't
+run away if you want to talk to me."
+
+Jael's courage had come back after the momentary shock and surprise.
+She felt, too, that the grasp on her arm relaxed at once at her
+request, and now she said, "May I please strike a match and light my
+candle again? It's very dark here."
+
+"No, I prefer to be in the dark," was the reply.
+
+There was something in the voice that sounded familiar to Jael, and she
+was trying to remember where she had heard it, when it flashed upon her
+all of a sudden.
+
+"Please sir," said she, "you're the gent as we met on the beach the
+other day."
+
+"Am I? Then you're Jael Jones."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Why do you call me sir?" exclaimed the man, leaving go of Jael's arms
+and going a few paces off into the darkness. "If you remember me at
+all, you must recollect that I have the dress of a working man."
+
+"Yes, sir, but you don't talk like us common folk," replied Jael; "thy
+speech betrayeth thee."
+
+The man made no answer to this, but presently, after a pause, he said,
+"It's cold and damp here, I'll light a little fire now. I don't mind
+your seeing my face since you know me."
+
+So saying, he passed Jael again in the darkness, and then she suddenly
+saw him down on his knees in a corner, blowing into flame some sparks
+that were smouldering among a heap of dry seaweed and driftwood, in a
+hollow of the rock which served him as a fireplace, while the smoke
+escaped through a little hole overhead. Fresh wood was added, and in a
+few minutes the whole blazed up bright and warm, shedding a cheerful
+glow round the dark cave, and shining full upon the singular face, the
+long black hair and beard of the stranger.
+
+"He does not look at all happy," said Jael to herself, gazing into his
+blue eyes, which were heavy and dim to-day, looking almost as though
+they had been shedding tears.
+
+Forgetting the strangeness of her adventure, she found herself pitying
+this lonely, mysterious creature, who seemed so sad.
+
+"Why are you looking so steadfastly at me, little Jael?" asked he,
+after a moment or two, during which the spreading glow had illuminated
+her earnest face and eager, yet tender, pitiful eyes.
+
+"I was just thinking how miserable you looked," replied Jael. "Surely
+you haven't been living long in such a place as this?"
+
+There was a sound in the man's throat very like a sob. "Yes," said
+he, "I 'am' miserable, but it is not on account of living here. It is
+better for me just now to be alone and quiet till what I have to do is
+done."
+
+"Why?" asked Jael.
+
+"I think I had better not tell you my story, child; you would not
+understand it, perhaps, or it would shock you, which would be worse. I
+am not a good man, Jael, and I have much to make me wretched, and there
+is no hope for me in this world or the next."
+
+"Oh please, sir, beggin' your pardon, but that can't be!" said the
+little girl. "Father says there ain't no one who mayn't hope for
+forgiveness and peace, however naughty he's been; and you knows the
+Bible says so too, 'cause Christ came not to call the righteous, but
+sinners, to repentance—that means not the folks as thinks themselves
+righteous, but the poor ones that feel their sin. And Jesus Himself
+said, 'I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me,' and of course,
+as we're all sinners, He meant us all—at least, so father says, and he
+never says nothing but the truth. But perhaps you know all this?"
+
+The stranger looked up and said, more to himself than to Jael, "Yes;
+that's what my Emily used to say, or like it. Ah, if I'd only listened
+to her years ago!"
+
+"Was Emily your sister?" asked Jael.
+
+"No; my wife."
+
+"Have you a wife?" and Jael put on an expression of wonder and interest.
+
+"I 'had,'" replied the man, "and she was born not far from Orlmuck, as
+I've often heard her say. We were very happy together at first, but I
+got into bad company a few years after we were married, and I left her.
+And I'm afraid I shall never see her nor the little one again, for when
+I went home to tell her I was sorry, and would never grieve her again,
+the lodgings were let to other people, and wife and child were gone, no
+one knew where. A few of the neighbours said that she was quite crazed,
+and did nothing but talk about getting back to the place where she was
+born, though the friends there who knew her as a baby were all dead
+and gone, and she hadn't a relative either. Your little Mo reminded me
+so of my boy, only my child was very thin and pale, like his mother,
+though his hair and eyes were like mine."
+
+"Mo's hair isn't a bit like yours," said Jael; "it is golden and curly,
+and yours is black and straight."
+
+The stranger started, put a hand to his head, then dropped it again and
+said, "To be sure! To be sure!"
+
+"But won't you please tell me why you're hiding away here?" asked Jael.
+
+"Because I am suspected of being a thief, Jael," replied the man, "and
+appearances are terribly against me, and I should perhaps be put in
+prison if I were found, and then I could not look for my lost wife and
+child."
+
+"But were you a thief really?" questioned Jael, her face showing that
+she hoped he was not.
+
+"No; I was foolish, and made a bad man my friend, and was led into
+all sorts of wickedness. But I did not take the money, or help him do
+it. But when I found I was likely to be arrested, I ran away and hid
+myself because I had heard that some one like my wife, with a child in
+her arms, had a few months ago been seen about Orlmuck, or near it,
+and I wanted to find out more about them. I knew it might be ever so
+long before I came upon their track if once the police got hold of me.
+This cave was known to me years ago, and I thought I should be safer
+here than in lodgings. I buy a little food now and then in the evening
+at the smallest shops in the village, and I go about from place to
+place making inquiries, but no one knows me, and you are the first
+person that has found me here. If I could only learn what has become
+of poor Emily and my little Cyril I should be content to give myself
+up to those who are looking for me, and not hide away as though I were
+guilty. But there, I did not intend to tell you my story, and yet I
+have done so. But you are only a child, and not cruel and unjust like
+the world; may I trust you not to betray me?"
+
+"I won't betray you," said Jael; "but mayn't I tell father?"
+
+"No, not father, nor any one else," was the reply. "If you cannot keep
+my secret, I shall feel sorry I told you, and you will oblige me to
+leave this cave and seek a hiding-place elsewhere, and perhaps I shall
+be put in prison, and all through you."
+
+"I've never had a secret in my life afore," pleaded poor Jael; "and
+from father, too! Oh! It'll be too dreadful!"
+
+"I can't help it," replied the stranger, his voice growing hard and
+harsh. "It was not my fault that you found me out in my hiding-place,
+and now I will not let you go until you promise me never to breathe a
+word about me to any one."
+
+As Jael still hesitated, the man's face lowered; his blue eyes looked
+sternly at her.
+
+"I always do as I say," he added. "Choose between staying here till the
+next low tide and promising to keep my secret."
+
+But just at that moment there was a strange confusion of noises in the
+outer cave—talking, shouting, and rapping of sticks against the rocky
+walls. The stranger started as a bright light gleamed through the
+narrow entrance to the second chamber.
+
+"Good God!" he exclaimed. "They must have tracked me here after all!
+Ah, well! It must have come sooner or later."
+
+He drew himself up and walked a step or two as though to meet the
+new-comers as they came on, seeing the flicker of the fire, the smoke
+of which rising through the cliff above the cave, had confirmed
+previous suspicions and revealed the hiding-place.
+
+A constable advanced from the company and approached the stranger.
+
+"Why! This is not our man," exclaimed he, staring at the dark-haired,
+bearded man before him, and then turning in dismay towards his
+companions; "this isn't golden curly hair, smooth face, gentlemanly
+dress and bearing. What mare's-nest have we come upon now?"
+
+But even while the constable spoke, another man advanced from the
+company. He was a detective police-officer, but in plain clothes.
+
+"We are not mistaken," said he, quietly. "Bid him pull off that hair
+and beard."
+
+"Nay, if that's all, I'll save him the trouble," replied the constable,
+and striding up he made a sudden snatch at the dark beard and mass of
+hair.
+
+To Jael's surprise and horror she saw it come off bodily, and leave,
+before her astonished eyes, another man behind it. There stood a very
+handsome but rather youthful-looking fellow, with crisp, short golden
+curls all over his well-shaped head, and his face fresh-coloured and
+smooth as a girl's.
+
+The next minute the child sank down on the floor of the cave and
+buried her face in her hands. She forgot the policeman, she forgot the
+stranger, she forgot where she was. In that one moment a terrible truth
+had come upon her like a lightning flash. Child though she was, we have
+seen that her perceptions were keen, and now she knew—knew as well as
+though an angel had declared it in her hearing—that her little Mo, the
+child whom she had found, whom she so loved and cherished, and had
+prized as God's gift to her, was this man's lost boy. There could be no
+mistake about it. Even her young eyes could not but see the striking
+likeness between father and son. The same clear, white skin, the same
+brilliant blue eyes, the same crisp rings of golden hair.
+
+Jael heard not the talk that passed between the prisoner and his
+captors. She had been in a dark corner, too, and had been unobserved,
+and thus unnoticed, and herself seeing nothing, she knew not when the
+party left the cave, nor heard the noise of their voices and footsteps
+gradually dying away.
+
+She was fairly crushed, poor child, with the one absorbing thought that
+her Mo was hers no longer, and would have to be given up to his father.
+
+She sobbed and cried as she considered what it would be to live without
+him. Never to kiss that dear, sunny little face, never to arrange those
+silky golden curls, or feel those soft arms round her neck, or hear the
+little plaintive voice, "Jai, Jai, tum to Mo." Oh, "must" she give him
+up? Could even his father love him as she did?
+
+And then a temptation, a very real and terrible one for the little
+girl, presented itself before her. Did any one know of this besides
+herself? The stranger, when she and Mo had met him upon the sands, had
+failed to recognise his own child. Need she speak the whole truth? Need
+she say the words that would separate her from her treasure, perhaps
+for ever? It lay in her own power, in her own hands, whether to keep or
+lose him; and after all, she would have to tell no lies. She would only
+need to keep back the truth—in short, to keep a secret. And yet how
+could she hide it from her father?—her upright, truthful, God-fearing
+father, from whom, as she had told the stranger, she had never had a
+secret in her life? Still, except for her own feelings, it would not be
+so very difficult. She was not obliged to say where she had been that
+day, or even if she spoke of the cave, she need not tell Peter whom she
+had met there, and what had happened in her presence.
+
+The little boy, she reflected, would be no better off if given up to
+his father, and no one need ever know that the child was his. It was
+all plain enough; she had nothing to do but keep quiet and let things
+be as they were.
+
+But Jael's was not a hardened conscience, and though the temptation
+came before her in glowing colours, like a fair, bright picture, there
+came also the warning voice which the Great Father puts into every
+heart to tell of danger at hand and rouse the soul to watchfulness and
+resistance.
+
+Little Jael knew she was wrong. She felt the force of the temptation,
+and felt, too, how weak she was, and she did the best thing that she
+or any other Christian could have done at such a time, for she knelt
+down and prayed earnestly that God would show her very plainly what was
+right, and help her to do it. And when the prayer was ended, Jael had
+resolved what she would do, for she felt that whatever happened, she
+could not bear to carry about with her a secret such as this, or to
+keep the truth from that loving, tender father of hers.
+
+Jael's mind was full of strange thoughts as she walked homeward along
+the beach. She felt as if she were making a great sacrifice for the
+sake of right. She thought of Abraham, and of his wonderful obedience
+and faith, and she tried to think that if she imitated his example God
+would, perhaps, in some way she could not see now, give her back her
+little Mo.
+
+
+Jael did not reach home until half-past five, and her father and mother
+and Mo were seated at tea.
+
+The little fellow held out his arms with a cry of delight as the girl
+entered, and the sight of his bright, sweet face was too much for poor
+Jael after all she had gone through. Clasping the child in her arms, as
+he sat at table in his high chair, she burst out sobbing,—
+
+"How can I let you go, darlin', O darlin'? O my little Mo, my little
+Mo! God can't be so unkind as to take you away from me."
+
+"Goodness gracious! The child's gone clean out of her mind!" exclaimed
+Catherine. Then in a sharper, louder voice, "What ails you, ye silly
+girl? Was there ever a mother bothered with such a only daughter as
+mine!"
+
+"Hush, wife," said Peter, gently; "there's more in this than we can
+see yet. Don't let us be the ones to break the bruised reed or quench
+smoking flax. The child's in trouble. Come to father, Jael, and tell
+him all about it."
+
+Then Jael, throwing herself into her father's arms, told him the whole
+story, keeping back nothing, though she was often obliged to stop
+in the recital, for her tears would flow in spite of her efforts to
+control them.
+
+But it was some comfort when she finished at last to have her father
+caress her fondly, and to hear him say, "Bless you, my dear brave
+little daughter! Even a child is known by his doings, whether they be
+pure and whether they be right; and God's children need not fear to
+take all that He sends them, if but they try to know His will and to do
+it. Seek ye 'first' the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all
+these things shall be added unto you."
+
+"And will He add unto me my little Mo?" questioned Jael, lifting her
+tearful eyes to Peter's face.
+
+"I don't know, child; but this I 'do' know, that we may safely trust
+Him to give what is best for you and for us all. The love that withheld
+not His only begotten and well-beloved Son from death for our sake will
+surely not keep back any lesser gift that's good for us. Trust Him,
+Jael! Only trust Him!"
+
+And Jael trusted.
+
+
+Time went on. The story of Edwin Garston's arrest had been on every
+one's lips. During his trial, his sad story, too, had come out in the
+account of why he had hidden himself. Then people put two and two
+together, and concluded that the dead body found months ago must have
+been that of poor Emily Garston, who, deserted by her husband as she
+thought for ever, had lost her senses and destroyed herself.
+
+Of course, the fact of there having been a child lost, too, made every
+one pretty sure that the little one picked up by Jael and adopted by
+Bible Jones the fisherman must be the little Cyril, though at the time
+that the body of the woman was found, there had been no clue to her
+name, nor anything to make a connecting link between her and the baby.
+
+The trial was over at last, and the prisoner acquitted. Ere this,
+however, Peter had written to him, and had given him some particulars
+relative to the finding of the child, and of the prevailing feeling at
+Orlmuck that the drowned woman was the little fellow's mother.
+
+The first visit that Edwin Garston paid after his release was to the
+cottage of the fisherman, and one look at father and son together would
+have convinced anybody of the relationship between them, for little Mo
+was just the image of the stranger who had been so rudely robbed of his
+disguise before Jael's astonished eyes in the cave that day. His visit
+was a sore trial to Jael, for the poor child was in fear and trembling,
+and could hardly help bursting into tears when the newly-found father
+took the little fellow in his arms, and called him his own Cyril, all
+he had left in the world now.
+
+"I'd like to have a few minutes' chat with you, please sir," said
+Peter, when Edwin Garston had somewhat recovered from the excitement
+natural to such an occasion as the present. "If you wouldn't mind going
+outside with me, there's something as would be the better of being
+settled soon."
+
+Jael never knew just what passed between her father and his visitor,
+but when they came in again, Peter called her and said, "Jael, my
+girl, this gentleman wants to begin life again over in America, and it
+wouldn't be well for him to take the boy so far, and he's been good
+enough to say as he'll trust him with us for the present till he can
+make some different arrangements."
+
+We need hardly say that Jael was radiant with delight, and even
+Catherine was much pleased when she heard that little Mo was to
+remain at the cottage. Her advice to her husband that evening when
+Jael came home and told of her adventure in the cave had been to
+keep it all quiet and say nothing about it, but now she was fain to
+acknowledge that the straightforward, honest way was the best, and that
+her husband's study of God's Word had taught him wisdom as well as
+uprightness.
+
+Before Edwin Garston sailed for America, he called at the cottage one
+day and asked Jael if she "remembered their talk in the cave?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Jael, "I remember it very well indeed."
+
+"Then you may recollect saying that there was no one who might not hope
+for forgiveness, because Christ came to call sinners to repentance."
+
+"Yes, sir, I remember; it's all quite true, sir."
+
+"Your words have never left me. My heart was very despairing and dark,
+and what you said gave me the first ray of hope and light, and since
+then I have been reading and praying for myself. Dear little girl, if I
+become a Christian, it will be by God's mercy in directing you to me,
+and in so filling your heart with the truths of His Word that you were
+enabled to impart them to one in such need of help and cheering. I feel
+very happy in leaving my little son with you, Jael, for, child though
+you are, you may be taught of God, and in your turn can teach Cyril.
+May the Great Father, whom I am just learning to know and love, have
+you both in His holy keeping!"
+
+
+This was Edwin Garston's farewell visit, and he sailed the day after.
+It is not our intention to follow him into his new life; let us rather
+look forward a few years, and tell our readers that when he came back,
+a prosperous man, it was to find Jael grown into a blooming girl of
+fourteen, and little Cyril—or Mo, as he preferred to be called—a fine
+boy of seven, who was getting on splendidly at school, and was still
+the pride and delight of Jael's heart. Peter and Catherine looked
+somewhat older, of course, and the latter was a little infirm, but she
+had improved in character, and the little home was more peaceful and
+pleasant than ever.
+
+Peter had suffered a good deal of late from rheumatism, and now Edwin
+insisted upon his giving up his hard work of fisherman—or, as he called
+it, retiring from business.
+
+"God has prospered me, dear old friend," said the young man when
+Peter tried to object, "and now you must let me be like a son to you.
+Whatever I may be permitted to do, I could never repay a tenth of what
+you have done for me and my boy."
+
+So it was settled that all should live together, and Edwin Garston took
+a house at some distance from Orlmuck, and near a large town, where
+there were good schools, and to these he sent both Jael and Cyril. And
+in the evenings, could you but have looked in at the windows, you might
+have seen Edwin Garston helping his son with his lessons for next day,
+and Jael, too, with her earnest face bent over her books.
+
+Old Peter sits in the chimney corner, with his big Bible open on his
+knee, and Catherine opposite him with her knitting.
+
+Let us lean over old Peter's shoulder and see upon what his eyes are
+dwelling so intently. Ah! There are the words:
+
+   "The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of
+the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.
+
+   "The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the
+commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.
+
+   "The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the
+Lord are true and righteous altogether."
+
+
+
+                      —————————————————————————
+         R. K. BURT AND CO., PRINTERS, WINE OFFICE COURT, E.C.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77390 ***
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+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <title>
+      A Child Shall Lead Them: The House that Jack Built; and Another Moses, by Mary E. Ropes │ Project Gutenberg
+    </title>
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+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77390 ***</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;"><a id="Image002">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"></a>
+</figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>"OH! YOU LITTLE DARLING."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h1>A<br>
+<br>
+CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM:</h1>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t1">
+THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT;<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+AND<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t1">
+ANOTHER MOSES.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+BY<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t1">
+MARY E. ROPES<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+————————————<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+LONDON:<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+56, OLD BAILEY, E.C.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003">
+</figure>
+
+<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><a href="#The_House">THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_1"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I. This is the House that Jack built</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_2"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">II. This is the Malt that lay in the House that Jack built</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_3"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">III. This is the Rat that ate the Malt</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_4"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">IV. This is the Cat that killed the Rat</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_5"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">V. This is the Dog that worried the Cat</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_6"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">VI. This is the Cow with the Crumpled Horn</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_7"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">VII. This is the Maiden all forlorn</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_8"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">VIII. This is the Man all tattered and torn</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_9"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">IX. This is the Priest all shaven and shorn</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_House_Ch_10"><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">X. This is the Cock that crowed in the morn</span></a></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+————<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Another_Moses">ANOTHER MOSES</a></p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005">
+</figure>
+
+<p class="t3b">
+ILLUSTRATIONS.<br>
+</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Image002">OH! YOU LITTLE DARLING (<em>Frontispiece</em>)</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Image009">RATCLIFFE, THE PRODIGAL</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Image011">WHY DON'T YOU GO?</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Image013">I'LL DO AS I CHOOSE</a></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><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+<b>A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="t1">
+<b><a id="The_House">THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.</a></b><br>
+<br>
+————————————<br>
+</p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>THERE it stood, at the corner of the street, the finest public-house in
+the populous neighbourhood of this London suburb. There it stood, with
+its plate-glass windows, and grand swinging doors, and brilliant lights
+at night, and the air of warmth and welcome and cheer, that, like
+the will-o'-the-wisp of the treacherous marsh, lured many a foolish
+wayfarer to ruin.</p>
+
+<p>The place was kept by a man called John Drinkrow, to whom it had been
+bequeathed by his father, who had borne the same name. For a period of
+thirty years, John Drinkrow, the elder, had successfully carried on
+the business; then he died, leaving a considerable fortune, as well
+as the public-house itself, to his only son. During his long life,
+thrifty Jack (as he had been familiarly named) had laid claim to a
+sort of respectability upon which he had prided himself not a little.
+He had always gone to church once every Sunday, had paid his way
+punctually, and, though so much drinking went on under his very eyes,
+he himself was known to be very abstemious. He put his son to a good
+school, and it was not until the lad was sixteen that he suffered him
+to return home and join him in the daily work of the "business," as he
+complacently termed it.</p>
+
+<p>John the younger, grew up resembling his father in some things. Like
+him he was perfectly sober, and proud of his respectability; but the
+thriftiness that had characterised old Jack had turned to miserliness
+in the son, and the passion for hoarding had increased with every year,
+until at the time that our story commences, it was the ruling motive
+of the man's life. He had married at an early age; but after four
+years his wife had died, leaving two little boys, with just a year's
+difference between them.</p>
+
+<p>The children grew up with but little care from any one; the elder,
+Tom, taking after his father in quietness, steadiness, and love of
+hoarding; the younger, Ratcliffe, turning out wild and dissipated, with
+many good impulses, but also with a passionate love of excitement and
+pleasure which led him into bad companionship and into various forms
+of self-indulgence. Though often absent during many hours, for which
+he never accounted, he was still supposed to be living at home; but
+his father's anger and threats had lately become more frequent, and
+Ratcliffe knew that, sooner or later, unless he reformed, he would have
+to quit the parental roof. In the fear of this, he often resolved to
+mend his ways; but mere resolutions with no principle to back them are
+weak things at best, and generally a pressing invitation from some boon
+companion, or a few words of ridicule, were sufficient to tempt him
+back to old haunts and old sins, and the resolutions would be broken.</p>
+
+<p>John Drinkrow's hoarding propensities had prevented his educating
+his sons in a proper manner. Tom, however, had managed to pick up
+some knowledge by reading and study in over-hours; but poor Ratcliffe
+could do little more than read and write, and add up the score of the
+customers at the bar. Thus he was despised and sneered at by his better
+informed brother; and this state of feeling between the two young men
+added not a little to the family trouble and discord.</p>
+
+<p>One evening John Drinkrow was busy with his accounts in the little back
+parlour. His elder son was serving the customers; the younger was out.
+The gaslight shone full upon the old man as he bent with passionate
+intentness over his work; it shone on the hard-worn face with its deep
+lines and furrows, on the keen watchful eye gloating over the week's
+gains—gains not a few, as the long column of figures plainly testified.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the door opened and Ratcliffe entered, his face flushed, his
+gait somewhat unsteady. His father looked up, with no welcome but a
+frown on his dark countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said the young man, approaching the table and laying one hand
+upon it as though to steady himself; "father, it's some time since you
+gave me anything, and I'm hard up."</p>
+
+<p>John did not even glance at his son as the latter spoke; he went on
+adding up his figures and counting his gains.</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe waited a moment; then he said—</p>
+
+<p>"Father, did you hear what I said?"</p>
+
+<p>This time the publican looked up, cold, hard, contemptuous.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did hear," replied he, in the unsympathetic, metallic voice
+which might have been borrowed from the chink of his beloved coin;
+"yes, I hear well enough; what of it?"</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe's face flushed more deeply. "Why, father," he said, "it's
+ever so long since I came to you for tin; I think you might give me
+some without all this business. I'm sure you've got heaps and needn't
+grudge it. I wouldn't grudge a child of mine a sov. over and above his
+wages now and then, if I'd a strong-room and bags and bags full like
+you."</p>
+
+<p>Now Ratcliffe was excited with drink and vexation, or he would never
+have dared to say all this; for if anything angered John Drinkrow, it
+was an allusion to his truly miserly and very unwise habit of keeping
+his money in coin stowed away in a strong box, in a little room
+expressly arranged for this purpose, and next to his own bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>The words had hardly gone out of Ratcliffe's mouth before his father
+rose and pointed to the door. His menacing wrath was terrible to
+witness, and Ratcliffe, sobered by the sight, his momentary boldness
+gene, staggered away from the table as though struck by a sudden blow.</p>
+
+<p>"Go," said the father; "you have long been a disgrace to your brother
+and me; and I'll bear the burden of a spendthrift no longer. Get you
+gone—where you will; living or dying, I'll have none of you! Get you
+gone!"</p>
+
+<p>"But, father!" cried the young man, with a wild gesture of despair.
+"Father, if you only knew! Oh, 'do' hear me! Hear me out!"</p>
+
+<p>John interrupted him. "No more, I'll hear no more—get you gone!"</p>
+
+<p>"Only one minute, father—God knows I'm—"</p>
+
+<p>The old man's face grew livid with anger; his eyes were ablaze with
+unholy fire. In his excitement he rose and advanced a step with his arm
+outstretched. The son recoiled once more, gave his father one look,
+half of dread, half of defiance, then opened the door and was gone; and
+this was the beginning of great troubles for Ratcliffe himself, and
+also for the master of "the house that Jack built."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image008" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image008.jpg" alt="image008">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE MALT THAT LAY IN THE HOUSE</b><br>
+<b>THAT JACK BUILT."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>A WEEK had passed since Ratcliffe had been driven from his father's
+home, and his name had only once been mentioned between John and his
+elder son. This was on that first day when Tom had asked where his
+brother was, and had received the brief and not unwelcome reply, "He's
+gone, and he'll come back no more."</p>
+
+<p>A week had passed, and now it was night—deep night. The house had been
+closed, and the miser had come up to his strong-room to count his gold.
+His gold was his life now; all natural tenderness and right feeling
+had been consumed out of his heart by this canker. For long enough the
+Bible, given him years ago by his wife, had remained unopened—unopened
+until that morning when, as he took it up to remove it to the
+bookshelves, it opened of its own accord, and his eye had caught the
+words, "The love of money is the root of all evil."</p>
+
+<p>Down went the book on to the floor. Why had this silent messenger been
+sent thus to touch him where he felt it most? Yet he saw no warning in
+the solemn words; he tried not to feel the pricking of the conscience
+that was not yet quite dead, but had leaped up for a moment into
+the light of the great and awful truth as it flashed upon the man's
+unwilling intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said he, suddenly recovering himself, "this is the last time
+that I shall ever see anything in this book."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he raised the Bible once more (for he had dropped it in the
+first surprise that the reading of the text had occasioned him), looked
+at its cover, from which the silver clasp was gone, coldly estimated
+its money value as simply nothing; then, opening a window, he flung the
+volume out on to the dust-heap below.</p>
+
+<p>"There," he had said, sullenly, as he closed the window, "that's the
+last I shall see of you, you printed lie! Catch me ever having another
+Bible in the house!"</p>
+
+<p>But somehow, after he had left the room, and all through the day, the
+words had haunted him; and now again, when the shadows of night were
+about him, the brief sentence rang in his ears like the death knell
+of all faith and hope, "The love of money is the root of all evil;"
+and again other words that came to him like an avenging spirit out of
+the long ago, "How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the
+kingdom of God!"</p>
+
+<p>But John Drinkrow would not yield to these memories. With the
+resolution of a stubborn nature, he strove against them. He did not
+think of the time when death must overtake him, swift, and silent, and
+unrelenting; of a future state where he must reap as he had sown; of
+that eternity whither we can carry nothing, but where the poor and the
+rich in this world's goods will be as though they were alike.</p>
+
+<p>"No one can reproach me with dishonesty or drunkenness," said John, as
+he lighted the one meagre candle which he allowed himself, and buttoned
+his coat that he might not feel the damp chill of the fireless room. "I
+am better than most of my neighbours; I adulterate the beer less than
+many men would in my position, and I've never let my place get a bad
+name. Now that young scamp Ratcliffe is off, the house will be more
+respectable than ever. Tom will never ruin himself or me. He and I are
+of one mind in the matter of saving, and a very good mind it is."</p>
+
+<p>Thus, like the Pharisee of our Lord's parable, this hard old man
+prided himself upon his supposed virtues, and grew yet harder in their
+contemplation, forgetting that it was the poor publican—broken-hearted,
+humble, contrite—who went down to his house justified.</p>
+
+<p>Then the miser unlocked his safe and took out his bags of gold and laid
+them on the table, while into one less full than the rest, he poured
+the week's gains from a large leathern purse that he had brought up
+with him. And now his cold eyes began to kindle and to glitter; the
+unholy passion of avarice—of greed in its meanest form—flushed his
+wrinkled cheeks, and nerved his hands, and he fingered and counted the
+yellow heaps before him, whispering, "Mine! All mine!"</p>
+
+<p>And upstairs, in his own room, Tom—true son of a miser—was following
+his father's example. Stingy as John Drinkrow was, he was obliged
+to pay Tom a salary for his services, and even a small share of the
+profits; and Tom's only pleasure consisted in escaping to his room and
+drawing out of his cashbox the bank-notes and sovereigns he had earned,
+and to which he was steadily adding.</p>
+
+<p>"Now Ratcliffe is gone," said he to himself, "if anything happens to
+the old man, all that he leaves will be mine. I don't believe father
+will ever wish to see him again, but if he should seem as if he wanted
+him back, I will tell him what I have lately found out; and when he
+hears that Ratcliffe has been married on the sly, for ever so long,
+to a girl with no money, or next to none, and that this is what he
+has been doing with himself—let alone his gay life—the old gent will
+never forgive him, I'll be bound. And I shall mind it the less telling
+him all this, because of my having had a fancy for that girl myself
+once upon a time, and she wouldn't have anything to say to me. Ah! She
+waited for something better; and now she's got a treasure, and I wish
+her joy of him. But I owe them both a grudge for this, and I'll pay it
+some day."</p>
+
+<p>These thoughts, and thoughts like these, were passing through Tom's
+mind when a loud knock came at his door. Hastily he swept his money
+into the box, and hid it under the bed; then he went to the door, and,
+drawing aside the bolt, opened it. To his surprise and horror there
+stood Ratcliffe, his face pale and haggard, and softened a little with
+what looked like penitence.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Tom!" he said. "I managed to get in with my latch-key because I
+wanted a word with you—because I felt I must speak to you to-night."
+Here he paused and repressed the lump in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>But Tom said nothing, and Ratcliffe, mastering his emotion, went on:
+"Did you hear what passed between father and me, Tom, the other night?
+I'd been drinking—more fool I!—and emptied my pockets; and then I came
+to him and asked him for money, and, stupid ass that I was, I said
+something about the lots of tin he had got put away. I shouldn't have
+done it, Tom, if I'd been sober, but never was any saying truer than
+this, 'When the wine's in, the wit's out.' Well, he rose up like a
+black tempest, and he told me to go. I tried to speak, but he shut me
+up, and at last, seeing him like this, I did go. But that's a week ago,
+and I am hoping he may have softened down a bit and changed his mind;
+and I came to-night, Tom, to ask you whether you would say a good word
+for me to the governor. You're a child after his own heart (if he's got
+one to be after), and he'd do a deal for your asking. And think, Tom,
+we're brothers—you and I—and you're rich, and I'm nigh upon starving,
+and my poor girl at home the same. Help me a little, just this once,
+and to-morrow say a good word for me to the old man, and tell him you
+think, if he will only take me back, that I'll work and be steady. Will
+you do this for me, Tom, old boy?" And Ratcliffe's eyes moistened in
+his earnest pleading, and he laid his hand upon his brother's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Tom shook it off; not roughly, but coldly. "Look here, Ratcliffe,"
+said he, in that quiet voice of his, which, though so low-toned, had
+no sweetness or softness in it, "you must know you've brought this on
+yourself. Your own bad habits have done it all. Now, is it fair that
+you should come here and beg from me what I've saved by hard work for
+ever so long, when you've thrown away more than I've got to bless
+myself with?" And Tom's voice grew yet colder and more metallic as he
+hardened his heart against his brother's entreaties.</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe made a sudden exclamation, then checked himself, and Tom went
+on,—</p>
+
+<p>"As for speaking to father, you ought to know how little good that
+would do you; when he makes up his mind, he never changes, and I should
+only get into trouble myself if I tried to persuade him to take you
+back. Besides—think, Ratcliffe—it wouldn't be long before he found out
+about that marriage of yours, just as I did, and then you'd be as badly
+off as you are now. No, no; you'd better keep clear of this house—and,
+for the matter of that, of father and me too. Here's five shillings for
+your present necessities, but don't you come again."</p>
+
+<p>And Tom, with a mighty effort of will, took two half-crowns out of his
+pocket, and laid them on the table before his brother. He did not look
+at him while he did this, or he would have seen the sudden change in
+Ratcliffe's face—a change from humble, sorrowful penitence to defiant
+pride and anger.</p>
+
+<p>The prodigal took the two silver coins, drew himself up to his full
+height, and, with a passionate gesture, flung them into the farthest
+corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" said he, in a husky voice. "We're brothers no more. I came
+to you for help that one brother might well give another; but I'm not
+quite crushed yet, and I'd sooner starve—and so would my Nan—than take
+from your hand the bread that would keep body and soul together after
+the words you've said to me to-night. Now I'm going; but mark what I
+say—my mood is changed, and some day you'll repent this night's work. I
+came here sorry I'd done wrong, and wanting to mend my ways, but you've
+turned me to flint!"</p>
+
+<p>Tom had risen too, and as the money rolled away against the wall, and,
+after spinning a moment, lay flat on the floor, he listened intently,
+as if fearing that the noise would be heard. Then he said, "A little
+more, Master Ratcliffe, and you'd have had the governor up to see
+what's the matter. I'm sure I hope the housekeeper hasn't heard the
+row. Now go, if you 'are' going, and remember that you and I cannot be
+friends again."</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe needed no second injunction; he fixed one look on his
+brother—a gaze of defiance, resentment, and menace; then he was gone,
+and Tom breathed freely once more. Hastily he shot home the bolt of his
+door, picked up the despised half-crowns and returned to his seat—not
+to reproach himself, but to try to calculate his gains, and to form
+some idea of the advantages which would come to him from his brother
+being disinherited.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image009" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image009">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image009.jpg" alt="image009"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>RATCLIFFE, THE PRODIGAL.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Alas! That the interests of two immortal souls should be sacrificed to
+the love of gold! Alas! That the priceless jewel of eternal life, and
+the joy of Christ's free and blessed service, should be bartered for
+the tarnishing glitter—the metallic ring—of perishable money! In this
+one home were two men deliberately choosing the evil and throwing away
+the good, shutting their hearts against all right influences—love and
+charity, a forgiving spirit, pity, and sympathy, and bowing down, as it
+were, with an idolatrous homage, like the Israelites of old at the foot
+of Mount Horeb, to the golden calf of their hoarded wealth. And this
+was the "malt that lay in the house that Jack built."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image010" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image010.jpg" alt="image010">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_3">CHAPTER III.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE RAT THAT ATE THE MALT."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>ON leaving his brother's room, Ratcliffe groped his way out of the
+house by the back door that led into the yard. He carefully locked it
+behind him, and was about to jump over the gate into the road, when the
+moon came suddenly from behind a cloud and shone full upon the yard and
+upon him. Like a guilty thing he shrank from the light, and had already
+placed one hand upon the top of the gate, when his eye was arrested by
+a small dark object that lay on the dust-heap in a corner. He made a
+step forward and picked it up; it was a book. This was all he saw, for
+the fickle moon retreated again behind the clouds, and all was dark
+once more, excepting for the flickering light of the lamp farther down
+the street.</p>
+
+<p>Lightly he sprang over the gate, and, book in hand, made his way into
+the main road. A sharp walk of half an hour brought him into a side
+street, and at length to the door of a shabby cottage. He paused here
+and knocked. The door was instantly opened, and he entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Nan, here I am, you see!" said the young man, trying to look
+careless and unconcerned, as he flung himself down into a seat.</p>
+
+<p>But his wife's clear eyes were searchingly, questioningly fixed upon
+him, and, moving uneasily beneath their gaze, he said at last, "No,
+my girl; no good! I got in easily enough, thanks to my key and to my
+knowledge of the sliding panel and inside bolt, but Tom is as hard as
+a millstone, and won't say a good word for me to father, or help me
+properly himself. There's no help for it, my poor Nan, we're adrift,
+sure enough; and there's father and Tom as rich as anything, and won't
+stretch a hand to help us."</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe paused, and looked again at his wife. Her young fair face was
+turned from him now, turned towards the corner of the room where stood
+a small trundle bed; and, following her eyes, his own rested on the
+tiny golden head of his child and hers.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of the little one seemed to rouse him to fresh passion, and
+he exclaimed,—</p>
+
+<p>"Nan, I went there to-night feeling humbled and sorry. I don't mind
+telling you this, because you've loved me and been patient with me—but
+I've come back a worse man than I went, for I believe I've turned as
+hard as Tom himself. And now I'll go no more to ask him for anything,
+but I know of something that shall keep us from starving, spite of
+father and Tom." And the young man's face darkened with a menacing
+scowl that made his wife shudder as she looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't go and do anything wicked, dear," she said, gently; "better
+starve, or go into the workhouse, than commit sin. I wish, Ratcliffe,
+that you hadn't the burden of me and the child, and then you'd do well
+enough. I wish I had not let my heart tempt me into marrying you—you'd
+have been better off." And Nan stole to her husband's side, and softly
+passed an arm round his neck, pressing her smooth cheek to his.</p>
+
+<p>At another time this loving caress would have touched and soothed him,
+but now, in his fierce mood, he hardly noticed it. Without a word he
+sprang up, and crushing his old cap again over his brows, he went out.</p>
+
+<p>Nan looked after him in fear and wonder; then she stooped and picked up
+the book which he had held mechanically, and had dropped when he rose.</p>
+
+<p>"What can this be?" she said to herself. "Why, how strange! It is a
+Bible. Where could Ratcliffe have found it?"</p>
+
+<p>Drawing a chair to the table, she opened the book, glancing over some
+of the pages. They were discoloured and defaced, but most of the
+print was still legible. On the fly-leaf were the initials E. D., and
+underneath was written the text, "For the Son of Man is come to seek
+and to save that which was lost."</p>
+
+<p>As she turned the leaves, her attention was caught by many underlined
+passages, some of which had been favourite ones of her own, and
+gradually the familiar words recalled old associations, and she found
+herself going back in thought to the events of the last few years.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what my old priest-uncle would say," she mused, "if he saw me
+reading this. How angry he was at the idea of my marrying a Protestant.
+And I remember it was not until I assured him that I did not think
+Ratcliffe had much religion of any kind that he half consented to
+my having him. He did not know that at heart I was more than half a
+Protestant long before Ratcliffe came to court me."</p>
+
+<p>And then there came vividly back to Nancy's recollections, how it
+was that she had first begun to doubt the faith in which she had
+been brought up. She remembered walking along the street one Sunday
+afternoon, and at the corner there was an open-air service going on.
+As she passed, the preacher was just closing his address, and Nancy,
+stopping for a moment to listen, had caught the following words:—</p>
+
+<p>"Dear friends, dear fellow-sinners and fellow-sufferers, ye whose
+hearts are aching with their burden of guilt; ye the darkness of whose
+souls may be felt, so deep is it; ye whose doubts are honest, and
+whose helpless hands are ever reaching through the night and striving
+to grasp at truth, here is a rest for the burdened, a light for the
+darkened, a solving of all doubt, truth ready to be embraced; for all
+these are in my text, 'Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the
+sin of the world.'"</p>
+
+<p>This had set the young girl thinking, and carefully studying a Bible
+which she bought for the purpose; and, though she said nothing to her
+uncle, she began to have a new faith and a new hope. Then Ratcliffe had
+come, and in spite of his wild ways she could not help loving him.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," sighed she now, as she laid the book down on the table, and
+began to turn her wedding-ring round and round her finger, "it was
+not surprising that uncle disapproved of the match, for he is such
+a staunch Romanist, and so, he says, were my parents; and also, he
+did not like my marrying into a family of which he knew so little. I
+remember we had been married some time before Ratcliffe told me that
+his relatives must not know of his altered circumstances. No wonder
+uncle was offended then; the idea that his niece was married to a man
+who would not acknowledge her to his own friends hurt his feelings,
+and I could not be surprised that he ceased writing to us, and that a
+coolness sprang up between him and Ratcliffe. And yet all my husband's
+relations were not quite strangers, for I recollect long ago meeting
+Tom Drinkrow in my cousin's house near London. It seemed to me at
+the time as if he rather wanted to make me like him; but one look at
+that cold, hard face was enough for me, and I soon showed him what I
+thought. What an age it seems since all this happened, yet it isn't
+quite four years ago.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor uncle! He had very little satisfaction in either of his nieces,
+for Sister Susie married a sailor, and left the neighbourhood soon
+after I came to settle here. She wrote me that he had pretended to be
+a Roman Catholic just to get her, knowing that uncle would never have
+allowed his favourite niece to marry him otherwise. He had lived among
+Romanists in several countries, and knew their ways and the outward
+forms of their religion, or he could not have deceived uncle as he did.
+Poor Susie! She died soon after her baby's birth, and the little one
+only lived a week or two longer. As for her husband—Frank, as we used
+to call him—I suppose he went back to sea; strange I have never heard
+of him since: Only four years ago, yet how much has happened since
+then!" And Nancy glanced round the room till her eye rested on the crib
+where her child was lying.</p>
+
+<p>She was still living over the past when her husband returned. His
+passion had given place to a deep sullenness, and he did not explain
+why he had gone out, or answer a single question that Nan put to him.</p>
+
+<p>He only said in a surly tone, wholly different from that in which he
+usually addressed her, "Stop chattering, Nan, and get to bed. If you're
+not tired, I am."</p>
+
+<p>And Nancy obediently did as she was told. She did not soon fall asleep,
+however; long after Ratcliffe was breathing heavily at her side, she
+was broad awake, and thinking sadly over the troubles of which their
+lot was full, and trying to find a way out of them.</p>
+
+<p>At last, however, she was just dropping off into sleep, the tears yet
+wet on her cheeks, when her husband, turning uneasily in his feverish
+slumber, muttered with a groan, but in the strange unconscious voice
+of the sleep-talker, "Hist, don't tell her! Don't tell Nan; she'd
+never forgive me. But there; I can't see her starve for want of the
+gold—gold! Oh, those bags! So heavy; dragging me lower, lower still.
+No, they're not; gold's never too heavy; yes, they are; curse them! I'm
+going down, down, down to perdition. Save, oh save me!" And the young
+man awoke with a start and smothered cry, to find his wife's tender
+face bent over him in fear and anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing but a dream, my girl; nothing in the world but a dream!" said
+he. "Don't be afraid; I shall sleep quieter now."</p>
+
+<p>Nan saw very little of her husband during the next few days, and what
+she saw caused her a strange, undefined uneasiness. On the evening of
+the fifth day he went out, saying, as he was about to close the door
+behind him, "Don't sit up for me, Nan; I've a little bit of business
+that may keep me late. Go to bed, and I'll let myself in with the key."</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you tell me where you're going?" cried Nancy. "Ratcliffe, dear,
+do stay one moment and answer me."</p>
+
+<p>But her words did not reach her husband's ear, for he was already gone,
+and the door was shut between them.</p>
+
+<p>There was no sleep for the wife that night; her heart was full of
+foreboding fear. It was about three o'clock in the morning when she
+heard Ratcliffe's step outside the door, and the key turned in the lock.</p>
+
+<p>Springing up at once, she struck a light which flashed full in the
+young man's face. It was deathly pale, and full of a ghastly expression
+of blended mental and physical pain.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been in a bit of a row, Nan," he stammered, as he sank into a
+chair; "and I got a blow and a fall which hurt me a little, and I think
+I must have broken a blood-vessel, for I've thrown up a lot of blood.
+Don't look so frightened, child; I'm better now. I'll keep quiet for a
+day or two, and then I shall be all right." And he smiled a dreadful
+smile, a conscious, guilty, hopeless kind of smile, which struck terror
+to the heart of his poor wife.</p>
+
+<p>"For God's sake, my darling," she cried, "tell me where you have been,
+and what you have done this night! No matter what it is, do tell me."
+And Nan threw her arms round her husband's neck and clung to him as
+though her embrace must bring to her a knowledge of the truth.</p>
+
+<p>But he put her away, not roughly, but decidedly, saying, "I am very
+tired and faint, Nan, and I haven't the strength to talk. Help me to
+undress and get to bed."</p>
+
+<p>So Nan obeyed without another word, and then lay down herself, her
+heart heavier than ever, and finding no outlet for its grief save in
+the plaintive cry of the Psalmist of old, "O Lord, I am oppressed;
+undertake for me."</p>
+
+<p>Ah, loving heart of God! Did ever a child of Thine cry to Thee in
+affliction and pain, and receive no help and comfort? Never, oh never!
+Blessed be Thy Holy Name!</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_4">CHAPTER IV.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE CAT THAT KILLED THE RAT."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>GREAT excitement and consternation were prevailing in — Street the next
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>John Drinkrow had been absent for a couple of nights—called away to the
+north of England to a dying relative—and during his absence a strange
+event had taken place.</p>
+
+<p>We might say here that attention to his relations' wishes was not
+John's invariable habit, but this kinsman was a rich man, and John
+thought that his presence at the bedside might influence the conditions
+of the will, and the consequent division of the property. Hence his
+venturing on a journey which, even by third-class in a cheap train,
+must have wrung the miser's heart by its expense.</p>
+
+<p>But be this as it may, on the second night of his absence "the house
+that Jack built" was broken into by a band of practised housebreakers,
+and, as if guided by instinct, they took their way straight to the
+miser's strong-room, where, having the proper instruments for the
+execution of their wicked designs, they had succeeded in forcing open
+one box and in carrying off a small bag of gold.</p>
+
+<p>They would doubtless have done more mischief, but the noise that they
+unavoidably made, awoke the old housekeeper, Mrs. Curr, who in her turn
+roused Tom.</p>
+
+<p>Tom armed himself with a life-preserver, and came down from his room;
+but the burglars had already caught the alarm, and two of them made
+off; the third, more venturesome or more greedy than the rest, stayed
+a moment longer in the miser's room, and was met at the head of the
+stairs by Tom. The black-masked figure tried to slip by him, but Tom
+made a rush, and as the burglar tried to gain the stairs, Tom struck at
+him with his heavy weapon. The blow fell full on the back, between the
+shoulders, and the robber, what with the pain and shock of the blow,
+what with the blind haste with which he was trying to escape, fell half
+way down stairs. To this fall, however, he mainly owed his escape,
+for Tom, of course, followed in a somewhat less headlong manner, and
+meanwhile the thief had time to pick himself up and make for the back
+door by which he had entered. A moment later and his dark form was lost
+in the shadows of the night.</p>
+
+<p>It would not have been wise to apply to the police, and thus to make
+public the private affairs of the miser; so Tom and his father—for the
+latter reached home that day—bore their trouble as they best might,
+and tried to make their possessions more secure by the fixing of an
+alarum, and by the addition of several modern appliances for further
+safety. But the loss the two men had sustained only strengthened still
+more their passion for hoarding, until at last John Drinkrow grudged
+himself even the necessaries of life; and Tom, though he grumbled at
+his father's meanness in the things that touched his own comfort, was
+almost as penurious in his way.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mrs. Curr, the housekeeper, had hard work sometimes to provide
+food for the little household with the meagre allowance supplied her.
+Since Ratcliffe had gone, John Drinkrow had reduced by one-quarter the
+money for the expenses, and it was harder than ever to arrange and
+economise.</p>
+
+<p>For Ratcliffe was gone—gone for good; his father's home would be his no
+more; and only one of the three people whom he had left behind him at
+"the house that Jack built" missed him or wanted him back, and this was
+good Mrs. Curr, the kindest-hearted, most motherly body in the world.
+She had held her situation in John Drinkrow's family for some years,
+and had become really attached to Ratcliffe, who, with all his faults,
+had a warm heart, and seemed to be the only on capable of receiving or
+giving affection.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Curr was not a woman of much education, but she had strong good
+sense and high principle. And when she found, after the quarrel between
+father and son, that Ratcliffe returned no more, and that no wonder or
+anxiety was expressed either by John or Tom, Mrs. Curr became first
+distressed, then indignant; and she resolved to find out why her
+favourite had been banished from his home, and whether he were not to
+come back shortly.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, one evening, when she had carried her week's accounts to
+her master to look over and correct, as was his wont, she did not move
+away with her usual "Good night, sir," but stood in the doorway, almost
+filling it up with her portly figure.</p>
+
+<p>John looked up. "What are you waiting for, Mrs. Curr?" said he,
+sharply. "You've got your money for next week; why don't you go?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Curr cleared her throat. Hers was a throat that required a good
+deal of clearing at times, and just now the process had an ominous
+sound.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, sir," said she, at last, "I was jist a-goin' to ask you about
+Master Ratcliffe, and when you'll be a-expectin' of him home, for his
+room ought to be cleaned, and I'd be glad to know when we're to hev
+the pleasure of him back. I wouldn't hev him find his room other than
+a welcome home, which clean blinds cost but little, and is worth their
+weight in anything reasonable for the genteel effect they perduces.
+Why, sir," and Mrs. Curr again cleared that much enduring throat, "in
+the last situation as I lived in, my missus (which never would I have
+left her if so be she hadn't died)—my missis, she said to me allers,
+'Curr, clean blinds is a mark of "genteelity," and folks as doesn't
+look after their winder drapery doesn't know what genteelity is, and—'"</p>
+
+<p>"There—there," growled the miser; "hold your noise, Mrs. Curr. Who
+cares to hear about your mistress's sayings, or your stupid white
+blinds? Save yourself the trouble and me the expense of having any got
+up for my son's room, as he's not coming back any more; and listen,
+Mrs. Curr, I forbid you to mention his name to me again."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image011" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image011">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image011.jpg" alt="image011"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>"WHY DON'T YOU GO?"</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The old housekeeper drew herself up, while her cheeks turned the colour
+of her own cherry cap-ribbons. "Then, sir," she said, in a burst of
+honest indignation—"then, sir, you ought for to be ashamed of yourself;
+though, bein' as how I'm a sarvant, it's me that says it as shouldn't;
+but I can't see you turn agin' your own flesh and blood, and hold my
+tongue. God help us! Where should we be, I wonder, if our Father that's
+in heaven treated us as some fathers treat their children! Oh, master,
+master! I must have my say this once, and then you can send me away
+if you want to; but if poor Mr. Ratcliffe ain't jist the kind of lad
+as you wanted him to be, you oughtn't to forget he's been brought up
+without a mother; nor he wasn't never a child to be drove, but led,
+which you might have led him anywheres, if so be you'd have loved
+him. And though I know he's been and acted contrairy, and disobeyed
+God's command to obey his parents—which it's only one he's got, worse
+luck—there's a second command, which reads t'other way, 'Fathers,
+provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged.' And it's
+discouraged he's been, poor boy, as no one knows better than old Jemima
+Curr."</p>
+
+<p>As the brave old woman uttered these last words, she cleared her
+throat once more, and braced herself to meet the thunderbolt of John
+Drinkrow's indignation, which she thought must fall at once now upon
+her devoted head. But, much to her amazement, it did not come. John had
+been astonished at his housekeeper's vehemence, and her fearless way of
+speaking fairly cowed him for the moment. Besides, he knew her worth
+from an economical point of view, and he could not afford to quarrel
+with her yet.</p>
+
+<p>So while she waited, expecting her notice to leave, there was silence.
+Then the miser looked up, and said, quietly, "If that's all, I'll wish
+you good night, Mrs. Curr."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, sir," said the housekeeper, in a tone that showed her
+amazement, and then she trotted off to her own room, where, after
+thinking over what had passed, she made up her mind to take the first
+opportunity she could get of seeking out Ratcliffe, and of showing him
+by every means in her power that he was not forgotten by at least one
+of the inmates of "the house that Jack built."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image012" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image012.jpg" alt="image012">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_5">CHAPTER V.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE DOG THAT WORRIED THE CAT."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>FOR some time Ratcliffe continued very ill; the bleeding from the
+lungs recurred at intervals, and he was extremely weak. Nor was this
+his wife's only or greatest source of anxiety. Though unable to do
+any work, he seemed to have money, which he gave her, a gold piece
+at a time, when she needed it for household expenses. Once when she
+ventured to ask how he had become possessed of it, he turned upon her
+almost fiercely, telling her to hold her tongue and not bother him; but
+she was very unhappy, for generally Ratcliffe was sullen and silent,
+sitting in his chair often for hours without speaking, and taking no
+notice even of his little girl, of whom he had always been devotedly
+fond. Nancy could see that a heavy burden was resting upon his heart,
+but she was not permitted to share it, and this was constant pain to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Things were in the condition we have described, when one evening a
+knock came at the door, and Nan, on going to open it, found there a
+dame with a portly figure and a round, good-humoured face; while a
+throat cleared itself noisily, and a big hearty voice said—</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, young woman, does a Mr. Ratcliffe Drinkrow live here, or near
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; do you want him, ma'am?" said Nancy, gently. "He's not at all
+well, but I'll tell him who's come, if you'll just give me your name; I
+dare say he will see you."</p>
+
+<p>"I 'think' he will," replied the old woman, "if you'll have the
+goodness to tell him that it's Mrs. Curr. He and I was allers good
+friends."</p>
+
+<p>Nan went to her husband, but returned in a moment, and asked the
+visitor to come in. Mrs. Curr did so, but when she saw Ratcliffe's
+pale face and drooping form, she came towards him with both hands
+outstretched and tears of pity in her kind eyes. He as eagerly rose to
+meet her, saying—</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mrs. Curr, to think you have found me out, and come to see me! You
+were always my friend, weren't you? And you haven't gone and cast me
+off like the others, have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bless your dear face, no, Master Ratcliffe. How's a body to cast-off
+a boy which many and many a time I've given you bread and treacle when
+you was a hungry, growing lad, and your father couldn't abide your
+eating so much? Ah, my poor lad, that bread and treacle has stuck to
+me—leastwise the remembrance of it has—and it ain't Jemima Curr as can
+stop lovin' when she once begins. But la! Master Ratcliffe, it were a
+tidy job to find you out; nor I don't think I ever should, not if I'd
+wandered from Dan to Beersheba—as the sayin' is—hadn't it have been
+for my old friends the greengrocers over the way. They told me you
+was here, and what was more surprisin', that you'd took upon yourself
+the state of matrimony; though, for the matter of that, any money 's
+better than that as your father and brother thinks so much of at home.
+And besides this, you won't mind my sayin' that I consider your wife a
+werry promisin' young woman, and speaks that gentle and sweet, as she
+might be a lady borned and brought up."</p>
+
+<p>A faint smile rested for a moment on the young man's face, but it
+passed away, not, however, before it was broadly reciprocated on
+Mrs. Curr's own honest, full-blown countenance. There was a moment's
+silence, then the old housekeeper began again—</p>
+
+<p>"You're not livin' now, sir, in the 'house that Jack built,' and maybe
+you haven't heard of the robbery that's been and took place. You'll
+hardly believe it, sir, but your father's strong-room was broke into,
+and a bag of gold carried off, and not one of the thieves caught, which
+three there was. Not but what one of them was as near nabbed as might
+be, escaping, as you may say, with the skin of his teeth; for Master
+Tom were after him, and—Bless my soul, Master Ratcliffe, what's the
+matter? Look here, Mrs. Ratcliffe! Here's your husband took bad; he's
+a-goin' to faint or somethink like it. Why, what a hinvalid he's become
+since he left the parential roof!"</p>
+
+<p>Poor Ratcliffe! Apparently the excitement of seeing his old friend had
+been to much for him. Pale as death, he leant back in his chair, and
+did not recover for some time. When at last he did so, he turned to
+Mrs. Curr and said—</p>
+
+<p>"I've been but a poor creature the last few days, but I shall be all
+right soon, no doubt. And Mrs. Curr, I rely on you not to tell my
+father and brother where I am, or that you have been to see me. Perhaps
+you know I was turned out by father, and since then, when I went to
+ask Tom to plead my cause with the old man, he said he wouldn't. So
+now they're my father and brother no longer, and I—I—" Here a cough
+interrupted poor Ratcliffe, and he stopped abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Curr leaned forward eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Did I hear you say, sir," questioned she, "that you'd been to Master
+Tom since your father behaved that cruel to you? And did he send you
+off without trying to make matters smooth? Ain't that a shame, now? A
+shame it is indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>The old woman's affectionate sympathy brought tears to Ratcliffe's
+eyes, and he could not trust himself to reply, except by a hearty shake
+of the hand as she bade him good night. A moment more and she was
+trundling down the street at her best pace, and in due time she reached
+home just at the hour when she had to dish up the meagre meal called
+supper by the miser and his son.</p>
+
+<p>After supper Tom was about to go to the taproom, when the housekeeper
+said, "May I have a word with you please, Mr. Thomas?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if there are no customers," replied Tom, who was in rather a
+surly mood, and resented the idea of a conversation with Mrs. Curr,
+whom he had always detested for her invariable kindness to Ratcliffe.</p>
+
+<p>The housekeeper peeped through the glass door; there happened to be no
+one at the bar just then.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, sir," said she, "bein' an old servant, would you hev
+any objectings to tell me about your brother, Mr. Ratcliffe? I've been
+waitin' and hopin' to see if anythink would turn up to make peace
+between him and master, and nothink hasn't been and turned up yet;
+which the neighbours is all askin' what's got him, and why; and please,
+sir, what am I to tell them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell them to go and mind their own business," returned Tom, savagely.</p>
+
+<p>"It may be, sir, as you might hey seen him since he left home, and if
+so could you—"</p>
+
+<p>But Tom interrupted her with more heat and vehemence than she had ever
+seen him display. "What's the matter with you to-night?" he exclaimed,
+rudely. "What have I to do with Ratcliffe? No, I've not set eyes on him
+since the day he took himself off; how should I when I haven't an idea
+where he lives? Of course I haven't seen him. What a question!"</p>
+
+<p>This direct lie was too much for poor Mrs. Curr. She almost screamed
+with excitement; then she blurted out,—</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Thomas, there's nothink easier than to tell a lie, but it's
+another thing quite to make folks believe it. Now I happen to know that
+Master Ratcliffe came to you one night, to ask you to try and make
+things right with the master, and you wouldn't; and this were the last
+time you see him."</p>
+
+<p>"And pray how did you hear this wonderful bit of news?" sneered Tom,
+white with rage. "You've been playing the spy, Mrs. Curr, if I'm not
+very much mistaken, and, mark my words, you'll suffer for this!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you be a-threatenin' me!" said Mrs. Curr, now well on the
+defensive, and bristling like a porcupine. "But there, you can't do me
+no harm, except to get me sent off, and I shouldn't cry if I was, which
+the life here ain't of the pleasantest, more partic'lar since Master
+Ratcliffe went. And now perwisions is a-gettin' dearer, and I don't hey
+no more money to pay for 'em, I can hardly make both ends meet. Talk of
+Mother Hubbard! Why, 'my' cupboard is allers bare, for I never hev a
+bone as I could ask a respectable dog to haccept of, bein' as how the
+goodness is inwariable boiled out."</p>
+
+<p>"Is this all you've got to say to me, Mrs. Curr?" asked Tom, coldly.
+"Because, if so, I can go and attend to my duties."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Curr did not reply. She only looked at him, and almost through
+him, with her indignant eyes, and cleared her throat at him in her most
+aggressive manner.</p>
+
+<p>This was too much for Tom, and he walked away, muttering to himself,
+"I'll serve her out for this—I'll lose her the place—worrying old hag
+that she is. I know what I'll say to my father, and he will turn her
+away at once. I'll serve her out yet."</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_6">CHAPTER VI.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE COW WITH THE CRUMPLED HORN."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"I'VE got my warning, and I'm to leave this day month," said Mrs. Curr
+one evening to her old friend, a tradesman's widow, Mrs. Moo by name,
+with whom she was taking a quiet cup of tea; "and to tell you the
+truth, my dear, it's some time as I've been expectin' of it, and so it
+comes quite nat'rel like, but—"</p>
+
+<p>Here Mrs. Curr stopped even in the clearing of her throat, and stared
+at Mrs. Moo, whose face had suddenly undergone a most wonderful and
+comical change.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my good soul," said Mrs. Moo, "no one ought to know this better
+than I; I've heard all about it."</p>
+
+<p>"And, pray, how did you hear?" asked Mrs. Curr. "There's no one knows
+it yet, for I only heard it myself this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Jemima, I knew it before," replied Mrs. Moo, laughing, and
+rather red in the face. "The truth is, I'm a-goin' to marry John
+Drinkrow, and he waited for my answer before giving you warning."</p>
+
+<p>This was news indeed; and Mrs. Curr, with wide-open mouth and eyes, sat
+for several seconds unable to recover from the shock of this startling
+intelligence. At last she mastered her surprise sufficiently to blurt
+out—</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Sairey Ann, you ain't a-goin' into it blindfolded, are you?
+You're aware as how he's a miser, which Mr. Tom ain't no better; and
+though young in years, he's the more spitefuller of the two."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know all about it," said Mrs. Moo, recovering her gravity; "but
+you see, Jemima, I'm very lonely since my old man died, and that's ten
+years come next Christmas. And then my son is always away at sea, poor
+lad! And as for John Drinkrow, and his son Tom too, I ain't afraid of
+them. I never yet saw the man as could come it over me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," remarked Mrs. Curr, "I've kep' house for them, and Master
+Ratcliffe that's gone, for many a long year, and I never found as I
+could make the old man or his eldest son turn one step from anythink as
+they'd a mind to do; and for skrimpiness, there ain't a family anywhere
+as can do on what they do; though I say it myself as cooks their
+wittles, and can't get much of 'em for myself arterwards. Now don't you
+laugh, Sairey Ann, for it's the truth, as I'm a livin' woman."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, I know it's the truth," replied Mrs. Moo; "but you won't
+frighten me. You must remember that you've been a servant at 'the house
+that Jack built,' while I shall be mistress. I mean to have my own way,
+and you'll see I shall." And Mrs. Moo took out her pocket-handkerchief
+and blew her big and rather crooked nose, with a defiant trumpet sound
+which spoke volumes.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," continued she presently, "it's Tom that's set his father
+against you, Jemima; I suppose you angered him in some way, and he's as
+spiteful as a cat; and his father thought, I suppose, that it would be
+a savin' to have a housekeeper what he'd not have to pay wages to, and
+so he come to me. Well, we shall see. I remember John Drinkrow as he
+was years ago, when my old man and him was friends; he wasn't near so
+bad then, and I don't dislike him now, nor I don't doubt but what I'll
+be able to manage him, and the house too."</p>
+
+<p>It was not possible that evening to carry the news to Ratcliffe and
+his wife, but as soon as she was able to go out again for an hour or
+two, Mrs. Curr set off to pay them a visit. She found Ratcliffe in
+bed, visibly weaker than he had been before, and terribly depressed.
+Nancy told her that once or twice he had rallied for a time, and seemed
+better, but that he changed again for the worse, and never made any
+real progress.</p>
+
+<p>There was no sign of poverty, however, in the house, and Mrs. Curr, who
+had brought in her pocket some of her hardly-earned savings to meet any
+want that might present itself, did not find it necessary to offer help.</p>
+
+<p>After telling the news of her own coming change of circumstances, and
+of John Drinkrow's proposed marriage, she said, clearing her throat
+vigorously, "And now, Master and Mrs. Ratcliffe, I am about, as you
+might say, to be turned out of house and home, and I should like, with
+your permission, to make a proposition. Will you let your spare room to
+me, and allow me to lodge here? I've got my savin's, and I'll pay you
+punctual, and then I can take my turn at anythink there is to do, and
+I'll try never to get in the way, and—"</p>
+
+<p>"You dear old soul, of course you shall come, and we'll only be too
+glad," said Ratcliffe, his weary face lighting up as the housekeeper
+came forward and took his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"And 'I' shall be very glad, too," said Nancy; "only I'm afraid we
+shan't be very pleasant people to live with, my husband being so ill,
+and our poor little Maida often fretful, through not being looked after
+as she ought to be; and I know I'm not the best manager in the world
+either."</p>
+
+<p>"'Taint jest yet as I shall be wantin' to come," said Mrs. Curr; "my
+month ain't up for a fortnight yet, and by that time you'll be all
+right again, I hope."</p>
+
+<p>After a little more conversation, Mrs. Curr took her leave, and
+Ratcliffe and his wife were left alone. The gloom had settled down
+again upon the young man's face, and this and its deadly pallor struck
+terror to the heart of his poor wife.</p>
+
+<p>Each day that had gone by since that night that he had come home
+ill, had convinced her more and more fully that he had fallen into
+some great temptation, and received some terrible moral, as well as
+physical, shock. As she had sat by his side, listening to his laboured
+breathing, or ministering to his many wants, her heart had gone up in
+agonised supplication to God—anguished cries for help and light; for
+it was as if a black cloud rested upon her life, and she could see no
+sunshine beyond it. Once or twice she took up her Bible and offered to
+read aloud a few verses, but Ratcliffe stopped her with a sullen "None
+of that, Nancy," and she was obliged to close the sacred volume and put
+it out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>Still, dark though these hours of trial seemed, they were, through
+their very darkness, and loneliness, and anxiety, teaching her to
+feel for the leading hand of her Heavenly Father, and to look, with
+ever-growing faith and love, to Him for sympathy and help. And He who
+sent His only begotten and well-beloved Son to suffer and die for
+a guilty world, for that Son's sake came near, to strengthen this
+suffering, struggling woman, whose heart was well-nigh broken with the
+terrible change that had come over her loved one—loved, oh how tenderly
+still, in spite of all his faults.</p>
+
+<p>A short time after Mrs. Curr's second visit, Ratcliffe told his wife
+one day—told her briefly and bluntly—that his money was all gone. "Or
+at least," he added, "we have only just enough to pay our doctor's
+account."</p>
+
+<p>To his surprise, however, Nan did not turn pale, or seem much
+surprised, or at all alarmed. For a long time past the money upon which
+they had been living had been a painful mystery to her, and, with a
+woman's penetration, she more than suspected something was wrong. And
+now, when her husband told her with lowering brow that his stock of
+gold was at an end, she felt, destitute as they were, as if one weight
+had been taken from her burdened heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dear," she replied simply, "I must try to get some work to do
+that will help to keep us; then Mrs. Curr's paying for our front room
+will be something gained, and I think, as we haven't run into debt,
+that we may be able to manage till you are about again."</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe shook his head despondingly, but said nothing, and the
+subject was not resumed.</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+*****
+</p>
+
+<p>That night there came a low tap at the door, and when Nancy opened
+it there entered a young man, a year or two older perhaps than her
+husband, but with a face from which she shrank as from that of some
+loathsome reptile.</p>
+
+<p>He came in and sat down by Ratcliffe's bed, and looked uneasily round
+the room, following, with his furtive eyes, first the little girl, who
+was toddling about and prattling in her pretty childish way, and then
+fixing his gaze suspiciously upon Nan, who had seated herself at the
+table, with some fine sewing.</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe saw the look, and turning restlessly in his bed, he said—</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy, leave this chap and me to ourselves for a quarter of an hour,
+and take the child with you."</p>
+
+<p>A deeper shadow stole over the young wife's face as she obeyed, and
+Maida cried as her mother took her up and bore her away.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the door was shut, the stranger said—</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Rat., you don't look up to another game yet. That last little
+excursion 'pears to have done for you. And yet I came to tell you of a
+rare thing that's afloat, if you could take your part like a man."</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe clenched his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you see what a poor wretch I am?" said he. "I can do nothing but
+lie here, and curse myself and you and the others. If it hadn't been
+for that night's work, I should have been a sound man now, instead of
+lying here coughing my life away."</p>
+
+<p>"But you got your share of what we went in for," urged the stranger,
+"and that was what you wanted, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hold your tongue," retorted Ratcliffe, "or tell me something I don't
+know, if you want to talk. What are you going to do, you and the
+fellows?"</p>
+
+<p>The visitor rose. "No, no," said he, "you ain't a-goin' to join us, so
+I can't tell you nothin'! No tales allowed out of school, remember.
+Blabbin's dangerous to any one as isn't in the risk, so I'll wish you
+good evening." The stranger let himself out, and the air seemed purer
+for his absence.</p>
+
+<p>"What did that man want, Ratcliffe dear?" asked Nancy, as, having put
+the child to bed, she began to busy herself with preparations for their
+simple evening meal. She waited for an answer, but none came, and with
+a heavy sigh she busied herself with her household duties, feeling that
+her husband must have terrible reasons for his sullen silence—a silence
+which he had now maintained upon several subjects for weeks past.</p>
+
+<p>The time of Mrs. Curr's service at "the house that Jack built" had come
+to an end, and she packed up her things, received her wages, and took
+her leave, going straight to the house of Ratcliffe and his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Here I am, you see," said she, in her big, hearty voice, as she walked
+in.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Ratcliffe, I've giv' up service and I'm a-goin' to rest in my old
+age; and rest it'll be, if you'll let me take care of you sometimes,
+and have an eye on that bonny bairn of your'n with her golden head."</p>
+
+<p>"You're very good, dear Mrs. Curr," said Ratcliffe, gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow the old woman's genial disposition and genuine affection seemed
+to do more towards removing the cloud from his brow than anything else,
+and now he added, more cheerfully than he had spoken for long enough—</p>
+
+<p>"It'll be a great pleasure for both Nan and me to have you here, and we
+bid you heartily welcome."</p>
+
+<p>So Mrs. Curr took off her bonnet and put on her cap, unpacked her big
+box and her extended carpet-bag, and arranged to her satisfaction the
+pieces of furniture she had managed to purchase; and thus established
+herself in her new home.</p>
+
+<p>And the very next day John Drinkrow brought his new wife home to "the
+house that Jack built," and in his old age recommenced married life.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_7">CHAPTER VII.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE MAIDEN ALL FORLORN."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IN spite of the devoted care of his wife and the added attention of
+Mrs. Curr, Ratcliffe's health grew steadily worse. Yet it was not for
+want of anything that he had been accustomed to have, for whatever
+self-denial Nancy felt it right to practise herself, her husband was
+not allowed to forego anything which had in the past been considered
+necessary. Early and late the busy little woman toiled. Always clever
+with her fingers, she had succeeded in obtaining some fancy work to
+do regularly, and whenever she was not actively employed in household
+matters, or in actual waiting upon Ratcliffe, her nimble hands would be
+earning money for the daily expenses.</p>
+
+<p>As for Mrs. Curr, no one could well have been more kind and unselfish.
+She insisted upon paying a high rent for her room, on the plea that it
+had "a lively lookout," and was bigger than most of the bedrooms in
+such houses. Nor did her kindness end here. In a wonderfully delicate
+manner she would often contrive to provide some little delicacy for the
+invalid, or cheer him by the gift of a few cut flowers or a fragrant
+plant; until at last both he and Nancy used to hail with delight the
+sight of her round face, and even fairly to enjoy the ominous clearing
+of the throat, which always heralded her approach to their rooms from
+the upper regions.</p>
+
+<p>But changes were at hand.</p>
+
+<p>One morning the doctor looked more grave than usual as he examined
+Ratcliffe's lungs. Again and again he applied the stethoscope. At last
+he said, "My good fellow, it's no use trying to deceive you, your chest
+is in a very bad state, and a change of air is positively necessary. I
+should recommend Devonshire if you can get as far, for I think that the
+air of some parts of that county is specially suited to your case."</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe said nothing in reply, but a flush dyed his cheeks, which the
+medical man did not fail to see, and very wisely he changed the subject
+and chatted on about other things. Presently Nancy, who had been out
+of the room with little Maida, came back with a neat packet which she
+had prepared to give the doctor; it contained the payment in full of
+the account sent in for his late visits. She kept it in her hand until
+he rose to go, then, following him to the door, she said, "Please,
+sir, will you allow me to pay your account now? I think you will find
+this right. Thank you very much for being so patient with us and so
+attentive to my husband."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor put back the hand and the parcel together. "No, Mrs.
+Drinkrow," said he, "I could not think of taking fees from you until
+your husband has shown more benefit from my treatment. I think that sea
+air and change of scene are the doctors for him now. Keep this to pay
+for them. No, not a word of thanks, if you please. Good morning," and
+the kind-hearted doctor raised his hat as respectfully as though he
+were saluting one of the high-born or wealthy of the land, and went his
+way with the music of Nan's trembling words, "God in heaven reward you,
+sir!" ringing in his ears.</p>
+
+<p>And so it was arranged that with this money Ratcliffe and Nancy should
+go down to Devon. Father Francis, Nancy's priest-uncle, lived there,
+and she thought that if he knew the circumstances of the case, he would
+perhaps allow them, to lodge in his house, which was a comfortable
+cottage close to the sea, in the outskirts of one of the towns.</p>
+
+<p>Nan accordingly wrote a letter to her uncle—wrote earnestly and
+humbly—asking this as a favour, and appealing to his love for her in
+former years, when, being left an orphan, she had lived under his
+protection. Almost by return of post an answer came granting Nan's
+petition, and expressing great sympathy for her in her misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p>It was arranged meanwhile for Maida to remain with Mrs. Curr, who was
+to move into a smaller and cheaper lodging, and there to await the
+return of Nancy and Ratcliffe.</p>
+
+<p>Our story would grow too long and prosy were we to go into all the
+details of preparation, or even of the journey. We will only say that
+the invalid and his wife got safely to their destination, and that
+Mrs. Curr, after looking in vain in the immediate neighbourhood for a
+suitable room for herself and the little forlorn maiden under her care,
+was at last so fortunate as to secure the lodging lately vacated by her
+friend, the former Mrs. Moo, now Mrs. Drinkrow, of "the house that Jack
+built."</p>
+
+<p>It was here that, soon after her moving in, she received a visit from
+the elderly bride, who seemed just as usual, only that her very strong
+and rather crooked nose had assumed—it appeared to Mrs. Curr—a somewhat
+more defiant aspect.</p>
+
+<p>Much to Mrs. Curr's delight, "Sairey Ann" was wonderfully taken with
+little Maida, and the child seemed to return the fancy, and not to have
+the slightest fear of her new friend and admirer.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, and how do you get on, Sairey Ann?" asked Mrs. Curr, after her
+friend had fairly rocked little Maida to sleep on her lap.</p>
+
+<p>"Get on?" replied the bride. "Oh, very well; just as I said I should.
+I saw at first that John was going to try and cut me off short, and I
+says to him, 'Look here now, John: I've promised to love, honour, and
+obey you, and so I will, but you've a share of the bargain too, for
+with all your worldly goods you me endow.' I say, Jemima, you should
+have seen his face when I out with that! So then he said, 'Well, my
+dear, what's the least you can do the housekeeping, and your dressing,
+and all that upon?' And I says, says I, 'The least? Why, John, I'm
+sorry as you're so badly off; I'd never have married you and added to
+your expenses if I'd known you was such a poor man, for I've lived
+comfortable even while I've been a lone widow, and could have gone on
+so for the rest of my life without incommodin' of you or any one else.'</p>
+
+<p>"So then, Jemima, he were a bit ashamed of hisself; but, bein' pretty
+tough when he's a mind to, I'm not sure as he'd have given in that time
+if it hadn't been as Tom came into the room just then, and says he,
+'Father, don't you go for to be extravagant in the first days of your
+married life. Brides is the folks for doing people, as you'll find out;
+there's no fool so big as an old one.'</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Jemima, whether the fool were meant for me or for his father, I
+can't tell; but John, he turned round, quite fiery-like, and says he,
+'Tom, you wiper! Who wanted your advice? I'll do as I choose in my own
+house. Here, Sarah Drinkrow, say what you want, and your husband won't
+ask his son's leave to give it you.'</p>
+
+<p>"So then, without any more fuss, I told him what I thought would be
+enough to keep the house as it should be kep'; and, says he, 'Why,
+that's twice as much as Mrs. Curr had.'</p>
+
+<p>"And at that, I laughed, you know, Jemima, remembering our talk. 'Yes,'
+says I, as soon as I could speak for laughin', 'that's likely; Mrs.
+Curr is a very good manager; but still from the looks and tempers of
+both you and Tom, I think you've not been properly fed; and people as
+isn't fed as they should be, and warmed as they should be, get ill and
+want the doctor, and the doctor costs more than food and firing, as
+you'd soon find out.'</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at that, Jemima, John, and Tom too, looked as uncomfortable as
+may be, and says John, 'Well, Sarah, you ought to know what's right, so
+I suppose I must give you what you want.' Then, seeing my battle was
+over, I said no more, and now all goes nice enough, only it's awful
+dull sometimes, for my friends don't come in to see me as they used
+to before I married again, and John and his son I never see except
+at meals. I was askin' about Ratcliffe, the younger son, the other
+day, wonderin' why I never saw him; but his father said he was gone,
+and gone for good, and his name wasn't to be mentioned no more. But I
+thought I'd ask you about him, for I knew you was always a friend of
+the lad's, and he loved you."</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image013" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"><a id="Image013">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image013.jpg" alt="image013"></a></figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>"I'LL DO AS I CHOOSE."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"Oh! That's a sad story," replied Mrs. Curr, clearing her throat and
+wiping her eyes. "You won't say a word to his father and brother, will
+you, if I tell it you?" And then, when Mrs. Drinkrow promised silence,
+the old housekeeper told her Ratcliffe's story, or what she knew of it,
+including the marriage and the existence of a child.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, this is the child," she concluded, laying her broad hand
+caressingly on the curly golden head, as the little one lay asleep on
+Mrs. Drinkrow's lap.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the child!" exclaimed the bride. "Bless me, Jemima, but you
+are a surprisin' old creature. I made sure as you'd took the little one
+in for the day to look after, and oblige the mother, and that's why I
+didn't ask no questions. Sweet little lamb!" And she stooped and kissed
+the unconscious face. "I'd like to take her home with me; I should
+never be dull if I had her playing round near me."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, very likely," responded Mrs. Curr, drily; "but it wouldn't never
+do for your husband to find out his son's child, partic'lar when he
+hasn't heard of the marriage."</p>
+
+<p>"No, that's true," said the bride, thoughtfully. "Well, I must come
+and see her when I can. Why, fancy, Jemima, I'm the little thing's
+grandmother by marriage! And I've a right to do all for her that I can.
+My own grandchild only lived a week or two—poor Frank's baby, you know.
+He married a girl down in Devon, of whom I knew nothing, and she died
+a year after, and the baby too; the little thing would have been about
+the age of Maida here."</p>
+
+<p>After some more conversation, Mrs. Drinkrow took her leave, promising
+to come again very soon and bring some present for the little girl, who
+had evidently quite fascinated her by her pretty ways.</p>
+
+<p>"Which I must write to Mrs. Ratcliffe, and tell her what I've done,"
+said Mrs. Curr to herself. "I hope there wasn't no harm in telling
+the whole story to Sairey Ann; she's quite to be trusted, and I did
+want little Maida here to have another friend. God knows she may want
+one very soon, and Sairey Ann will be a friend for sure, spite of her
+crooked nose and her odd ways. My! Didn't she work round that there old
+miser!"</p>
+
+<p>And Mrs. Curr chuckled and cleared her throat in her intense
+satisfaction, and then proceeded to put Maida to bed, an operation
+which was always regarded as a serious matter, and requiring a great
+deal of care and grave attention.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_8">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE MAN ALL TATTERED AND TORN."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"WILL you please to tell me what you want?" said Mrs. Curr one morning,
+as she opened the door to a young man in rather disreputable garments,
+but with the unmistakable look of a sailor both about him and them.</p>
+
+<p>He stared at her as at an unexpected face; then he said,—</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I thought my—at least Mrs. Moo lived here."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, young man," replied Mrs. Curr, "if I was to say she never did
+live here, it would be a lie; likewise, one and the same thing if I was
+to say she lived here now, which she doesn't, nor will, except she turn
+single again, and that ain't likely."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger frowned. "What do you mean?" said he. "Mrs. Moo turn
+single again? Why, she's a widow, and has been one for years."</p>
+
+<p>"Humbly begging your pardings," replied Mrs. Curr in her most dignified
+manner; "she's now neither a widder nor yet Mrs. Moo. Come, it ain't
+no use beatin' about like this; tell me who you are as wants her, and
+maybe I'll tell you who she is, and where."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger had removed his cap, and was looking the old woman full in
+the face. She returned his gaze with a puzzled expression in her eyes,
+and as she finished her sentence, she cleared her throat in her most
+emphatic and peculiar manner. No sooner, however, had she done this,
+than the young man sprang a step forward, and laid his hand on her arm,
+saying—</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Mrs. Curr, it's you after all! I didn't know you till you made
+that noise, for all the world like the scraping of a boat's keel on the
+shore. Don't you know me? I'm Frank Moo!"</p>
+
+<p>"Frank Moo! No, really!" cried the old woman. "To think of your gettin'
+home at last after bein' so long away. Come in, come and sit down, if
+you can spare a quarter of an hour; you ought to hear what's happened
+afore you goes to them as it's happened to."</p>
+
+<p>"And what an age it is since I saw you!" said Frank, taking a seat.
+"Why, I haven't set eyes on you for years and years. Ah, talk of things
+happening! I've seen a peck of trouble since we met last. I married a
+girl down in Devon, and she only lived a year. Poor Susie! Ah, you say
+mother has told you about it. She didn't like the match because she was
+a Catholic, but I was in love, and of course mother couldn't prevent
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Susie, and a Catholic?" questioned Mrs. Curr, to whom Nan had
+mentioned her sister, and her sister's marriage, though without giving
+the name of Susie's husband.</p>
+
+<p>"It were down in Devon, as you say, you met her, Frank?" said the old
+woman. "Were she the youngest niece of an old priest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; how come you to know that?" asked Frank in his turn. "But, of
+course, you and my mother are friends, and you may have heard it from
+her. And now tell me what's come to mother, for bein' at sea, no letter
+has reached me, and I haven't heard any news."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," replied Mrs. Curr, "your mother has married John Drinkrow, of
+'the House that Jack built,' and she seems a-gettin' on all right. If
+you remember, Frank, I used to be housekeeper there, but one day I up
+and spoke to Mr. Tom about something as had angered me, and he talked
+his father into turning me off—out of spite, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"He always was a spiteful fellow," said Frank. "But what's become of
+t'other chap—the younger brother—they called him Ratcliffe, I think?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, poor boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Curr. "He offended his father and got
+sent about his business, which his father won't have nothin' more to
+say to him; no, nor his brother won't neither."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say so!" cried Frank. "What a shame, to be sure! Ah, many
+and many's the spree we've had together when we were both boys, before
+I went to sea. How I'd like to see him again!"</p>
+
+<p>"He ain't in London," said Mrs. Curr, suddenly remembering that she
+must be reserved on the subject of Ratcliffe's whereabouts; "so your
+seein' him ain't possible. But look here, my lad; you surely ain't
+a-goin' to your mother in them old clothes, are you? Why, you might be
+a beggar instead of a well-to-do sailor. You're all tattered and torn.
+What's come to you?"</p>
+
+<p>Frank's eyes dropped for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Mrs. Curr," said he, "all my trouble hasn't cured me of my folly
+yet. When I came ashore last night, I somehow got among a bad set, and
+I drank too much, and when I woke up in the morning, I found I'd been
+robbed of my good clothes as I'd brought with me, and these old ones as
+I had on were torn and spoilt. The money too that I'd been fool enough
+to leave in my pockets was all gone; but happily most of my earnings
+was sewn up in a bag and hung by a string round my neck under my shirt,
+and they didn't find that. Still, I've lost more than I need have
+done—if I hadn't been so foolish."</p>
+
+<p>"Which I quite agrees with you," said Mrs. Curr. "But now sit down a
+moment longer, and let me get a needle and thread, and sew up some of
+these big rents. Then you'll be a little more respectabler to go to
+your mother, and see your new father."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, the good woman got out her workbox, and was just sitting
+down to mend Frank's coat, when little Maida toddled into the room,
+from the garden where she had been playing. Her checks were flushed,
+her golden curls fell over her brow, while her innocent blue eyes
+peeped through them wonderingly at the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>Frank looked round. "Oh you little darling!" he exclaimed. "You sweet,
+pretty little pet! Who are you?" And he caught the child, took her on
+his knee, and kissed the round pink cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is she, Mrs. Curr?" he asked. "She's the dearest little girl I
+ever saw; she must be about the age my baby boy would have been had he
+lived. Look up, little one! Bless me, why how like she is to what my
+wife was. The same golden hair and sweet blue eyes, only this little
+one's eyebrows and lashes are darker; how very strange!" And glancing
+at Mrs. Curr's face, he saw an expression there which made him lay his
+hand on her arm and say, "Tell me, who is this child? Surely there is
+no harm in my knowing. If it's a secret, I promise not to tell."</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" sighed Mrs. Curr. "If you must know, I suppose you must; she's
+Nancy's child—Nancy bein' sister to your wife that's gone. Nancy
+married your old friend Ratcliffe Drinkrow, but John Drinkrow (that's
+the father, as you know) hasn't heard nothink about it, so don't you
+let it out, whatever you do. As for Mr. Ratcliffe, he's down in Devon
+for his health, which it's consumption he's in, I'm certain sure; and
+his wife she's with him; and I'm a-takin' care of their little one
+while they're away. And Frank, here's your coat, which the biggest of
+the slits is cobbled up, and now you'd better go and see your mother.
+You know your way to 'the House that Jack built' without my tellin' of
+you. It's that as began you in your wild ways, and 'twas there you got
+to know Mr. Ratcliffe."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know my way," replied Frank; "good-bye, Mrs. Curr, and thank
+you. Good-bye, little pet!" And once more the rough sailor stooped and
+kissed the child.</p>
+
+<p>As Mrs. Curr watched him away from the door, the postman came up and
+handed in a letter. It was from Nancy, and the old woman hastily
+retreated into the house, and putting on her spectacles, commenced
+reading the letter, which began thus—</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"DEAR MRS. CURR,—I have been putting off writing to you, hoping to have
+better news to give; but I think now it is no use waiting any longer.
+My husband gets worse every day, and his spirits are no better. He
+hardly talks at all, and he groans and moans in his sleep fit to break
+one's heart. Uncle is very kind, and so is his servant boy, James
+Cocks, but all the kindness in the world cannot, I feel sure, save
+Ratcliffe's life.<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"He does not grumble or complain, and the only wish he has expressed
+since he came down here is to see our little one. Sometimes I think if
+Maida were here, her pretty ways might cheer up her father a little
+bit."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="thought">
+*****
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Here I had to stop writing, for at that moment uncle came in, saying
+that he had heard my husband sighing to himself as he lay in a half
+doze,—<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"'Ah, my little one, I want you Maida dear, come, come!'<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"And uncle said—oh! so kindly—'Nancy dear, if Ratcliffe wants the
+child, why not send for her? Mrs. Curr would bring her, and we'll
+manage somehow about a room; and listen, Nancy, I will bear the
+expenses of the journey.'<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"So then, when I had thanked him, I said, 'Well, uncle, I am writing
+now to Mrs. Curr; am I to say this to her?' and he replied, 'Yes, do!'
+So, dear Mrs. Curr, come as soon as you can, for every day makes a
+difference now to my dear husband, and somehow I cannot help feeling as
+if God would make your coming with our darling a blessing to us all."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>A few more lines ended the letter, and Mrs. Curr laid it down, and,
+hiding her face in her hands, indulged in a hearty fit of sobbing. Then
+she roused herself, taking herself to task as if she had been another
+person: "Now, Jemima," she said, "don't go for to be a donkey; your
+duty's plain, and you must get ready and go to-morrow, you and the
+little one. And since there's heaps upon heaps to do, 'tain't no use in
+wastin' time weeping!"</p>
+
+<p>Wiping her eyes, Mrs. Curr first set about writing a letter to Nancy,
+saying that she would start with Maida the next morning. The letter was
+a wonderful production as regarded composition, spelling, and writing,
+but it carried with it such hearty sympathy and love as alone would
+ensure it a welcome.</p>
+
+<p>By that evening, Mrs. Curr and her little charge were ready for their
+morrow's journey, and when the morning came they set off, and after a
+long railway ride, which was pure enjoyment to Maida, if not to Mrs.
+Curr, they arrived safely at their destination, where they received a
+hearty welcome.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_9">CHAPTER IX.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE PRIEST ALL SHAVEN AND SHORN."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>LITTLE Maida was like a sunbeam in the home of Father Francis. The old
+man had quite forgiven Ratcliffe for his former misdemeanours, and for
+the concealment of his marriage from his own relatives and friends;
+and now, in his loveless, childless old age, Ratcliffe's little one
+called forth all the best feelings of his nature. For some time past
+his health had been too poor to allow of his undertaking any active
+duty in connection with his religion or profession, but having a little
+property of his own, he contented himself with such quiet occupations
+as his little house and garden afforded, varied sometimes by a visit to
+a neighbouring friend, or a drive in his little chaise to some place of
+interest within easy distance.</p>
+
+<p>His only servant was a youth, James Cocks by name, whom he had employed
+in his service from a child. The boy was a staunch Protestant, nor did
+the priest ever try to influence him against the religion in which he
+had been brought up; and James, or Jim as he was usually called, repaid
+his master's kindness with the most devoted care and attention. A
+thorough Jack-of-all-trades, he united in himself the varied capacities
+of cook, housemaid, gardener, and coachman, and perhaps a more
+unselfish, industrious servant never sang and whistled over his work.</p>
+
+<p>Jim was like other people in the fancy that he took to little Maida,
+only that he showed his affection in a practical way, by trying to add
+the office of nurse to his numerous avocations.</p>
+
+<p>As for Ratcliffe, the presence of his child brought with it a softening
+influence which his wife could not but notice with thankful heart.
+Before he and Nancy had left home, the little one's prattle had
+sometimes seemed to annoy him, and he had even been impatient with her
+occasionally, and brought the frightened tears to her wondering blue
+eyes. But he had now been without her for some time, and had learned
+to miss and long for the nestling golden head, and the sweet-toned
+voice of his little maiden; and perhaps, too, as the disease which was
+slowly stealing away his life, marched on with rapid strides, all the
+fatherhood in him awoke and clutched instinctively at the treasure
+which he must so soon leave.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was this the only change visible in the behaviour of the young man.
+The sullen, dogged expression of his face was fast disappearing, and
+in its stead had come a sad, yearning, regretful look, which told of
+dawning repentance.</p>
+
+<p>Once, when his wife came suddenly into his room, she found the little
+old Bible which he had picked up on the dust-heap, lying on the bed.
+Ratcliffe had evidently put it down as she entered. Perhaps he was
+ashamed as yet to be seen reading it. On another occasion, when she had
+taken up the volume, she had asked him whose initials were the letters
+E. D., which were written in the fly-leaf, and he had answered, "They
+stand for Emily Drinkrow, Nancy dear. That was my mother's name; and,"
+he added with a sigh, "she was a real good woman, I believe, and if
+she'd only lived, I should have been a better man."</p>
+
+<p>Nancy was too wise to pursue the subject, but she welcomed these few
+words as tokens of the change for which she had so earnestly prayed,
+and so long waited.</p>
+
+<p>One evening the time had come for Maida to go to bed. It was Sunday,
+and Nancy was at church, as she had been unable to go out before that
+day. Mrs. Curr undressed the child, and then told her to say her
+prayers before going to sleep. But the little one, with the curious
+obstinacy that children sometimes show, declined, since her mother was
+out, to say them to any one but her father.</p>
+
+<p>"Baby go dadda!" she kept saying in piteous tones, until at last Mrs.
+Curr was obliged to take her to Ratcliffe's bedside, and tell him what
+the child wanted.</p>
+
+<p>A painful flush dyed his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"I never did such a thing in my life as hear a child's prayers," said
+he, glancing anxiously up at Mrs. Curr.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, sir," replied she; "which you might do worse than begin
+now. Chil'en gets nearer heaven with their little prayers than many
+of us grown ones; and, if it's the pure in heart a sees God, why, the
+babies must needs see Him, for ain't they the purest?"</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe was still hesitating, however, when the little one broke into
+a wailing cry, and stretched out both her arms to her father, sobbing,
+"Baby say p'ay'rs to dadda! Please dadda, take baby."</p>
+
+<p>Such entreaty as this Ratcliffe could not resist. With tears in his
+eyes, he motioned to Mrs. Curr to lift the child on to his bed. She did
+so, and left the room.</p>
+
+<p>Then Maida knelt, and, with her little hands folded reverently, and her
+golden head bent, she prayed—</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Dear Desus, b'ess dadda; and mamma, and mate Maidie dood, and mate
+dadda well, and mamma no k'y, and take us all up high wen us is 'eddy,
+for Desus died sake, amen."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>So the little three-year-old lisped her simple prayer in the hearing of
+her guilty, sorrowing father, and as she finished, and flung her soft
+arms round his neck, and laid her rosy cheek against his pale face, wet
+with tears of shame and remorse, he groaned aloud—</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my little innocent child, God keep you so, never to be lost,
+oh, never, like your poor father! Oh, my child, my child!" And he
+strained little Maida to his breast, and covered her brow and hair with
+passionate kisses.</p>
+
+<p>As the child raised herself again to a sitting posture, her face had
+grown grave and thoughtful beyond her years. She gazed with strangely
+penetrating eyes at her father's suffering countenance; then, putting
+out her tiny hands and gently stroking his thin cheeks, her lips broke
+into a sudden smile, as if the child-spirit had seen a way out of
+the darkness which she felt was about her father. She stooped lower,
+lower still, till her face was close to that of the sick man; then she
+murmured in soft, caressing tones, "Desus loves 'oo, Desus does love
+'oo, dadda!"</p>
+
+<p>Ratcliffe started as if a new thought had struck him, then sank into a
+deep reverie. He hardly noticed when Mrs. Curr came and took away the
+little preacher with her one text. To his inmost heart the words had
+been spoken, "Jesus loves you!"</p>
+
+<p>In thought he went back to earlier days, to the time when he was
+a pleasure-loving boy, but before he became wicked and wild. He
+remembered the sadness that stole over him when he lay down at night,
+with no words of endearment sounding in his ears, no mother-kiss upon
+his cheek. Ah! If the words had been but spoken then, "Child, Jesus
+loves you!"</p>
+
+<p>Then had come the later time; the nights when evil companions began to
+tempt him, and he yielded; when the excitements and false pleasures of
+the world were smothering all the better feelings of his nature.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely not even God's love can have followed me since then!" said the
+stricken man to himself. But, as if in reply, his child's words echoed
+again in his heart and memory—</p>
+
+<p>"Desus 'does' love 'oo, dadda!"</p>
+
+<p>At length, unable to bear the strife of his own inner nature, he
+started up and seized the little old Bible that lay on the table beside
+his bed. He opened it and turned over some of the leaves. In doing
+so, he noticed with fresh interest, and a deeper understanding, the
+underlined passages which Nancy had remarked on the night when he had
+brought home the book.</p>
+
+<p>Parts of texts, the half of a verse—even a single sentence sometimes
+bore this mark, and Ratcliffe, with a strange feeling of being brought
+nearer to his dead mother by the perusal of her much-loved Bible, read
+such words as these in the fresh light that his child's words had shed—</p>
+
+<p>"When he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had
+compassion." "Now Jesus 'loved' Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus."
+"This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved
+you." "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us."
+"God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners,
+Christ died for us."</p>
+
+<p>He was still engaged in turning over the discoloured leaves, and
+reading such passages as we have given, when Father Francis came in.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Ratcliffe," said he, "I've come to sit with you a little till
+Nancy gets home. Is anything the matter, my boy?" For the old man
+noticed the tearstained cheeks, and the trembling hands that laid the
+book down.</p>
+
+<p>"No, uncle; I've only been thinking," replied Ratcliffe, with a touch
+of his old reticent manner; and the priest asked no more questions. But
+he said to Nancy privately, soon after she reached home—</p>
+
+<p>"Have an eye on your husband, my child, for his mind is very full of
+something. If he were of my religion, I should recommend him to confess
+to me that he might have the comfort of absolution, but I can't do that
+now, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"No, uncle, you cannot," replied Nan, gravely. "If he wants to confess,
+he has a Heavenly Father who is ever ready to hear him, and to grant
+him absolution through Christ."</p>
+
+<p>Father Francis sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"So be it then, child, so be it," said he, "but don't break your own
+heart meanwhile."</p>
+
+<p>Nancy made no reply, but stole away to her husband's room. He lay in
+the sort of stupor which took the place of sleep with him, and he
+seemed unconscious of her entrance; but as she bent over him, she heard
+him whisper to himself with a half sob—</p>
+
+<p>"Baby said, 'Desus does love 'oo, dadda!'"</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image014" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image014.jpg" alt="image014">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="The_House_Ch_10">CHAPTER X.</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<b>"THIS IS THE COCK THAT CROWED IN THE MORN."</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"IT'S six o'clock, sir, and please here's your shavin' water," said Jim
+Cocks's cheery voice outside Father Francis's bedroom door one morning.</p>
+
+<p>There was an immediate response.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you heard how Mr. Ratcliffe slept?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; very bad, I believe," replied Jim; "at least, so Mrs.
+Ratcliffe says, and she do look well-nigh worn out."</p>
+
+<p>Father Francis dressed himself and went to the sick man's room.
+Ratcliffe was sitting, propped up by pillows, and coughing incessantly.
+As the priest entered, he just turned his languid eyes, but left his
+wife to speak for him.</p>
+
+<p>"He has had a very trying night, uncle," said Nancy, "and his cough is
+troublesome. Will you sit down for a few minutes, the cough will soothe
+down presently, and then he will be able to speak to you?"</p>
+
+<p>Father Francis took the offered seat, and presently Ratcliffe was able
+to say, in short, interrupted sentences, "Uncle, I'm sure I haven't
+long to live; my strength is giving way so fast. I want you to do
+something for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Anything you like, my dear boy; anything you like," replied Father
+Francis. "You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said Ratcliffe, "would you be so good as to telegraph my father
+that I'm dying, and that I've something that I must tell him while I
+have the strength, and ask him to come at once, and—"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow," interrupted the old man, "you really are mistaken,
+you're not going to die yet. Please God, we shall have you up and about
+again soon. Don't get low and desponding."</p>
+
+<p>Taking no notice of all this, however, Ratcliffe only said, "Will you
+telegraph what I ask you, please, uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Father Francis; "of course I will, if you really wish
+it; but I must say I can't see the need of it myself."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you had better do as he wishes, please, uncle," said Nan,
+gently.</p>
+
+<p>And after writing out a message under Ratcliffe's direction, the old
+man went out on his sad errand.</p>
+
+<p>Ever since his little child's prayer, on the night which we recorded
+in our last chapter, Ratcliffe had been undergoing a rapid and visible
+change. Growing weaker in health, he was strengthening in resolution to
+shake off the trammels of concealment and guilt that had bound him for
+so long, and to be a free man once more.</p>
+
+<p>In the solemn stillness of the many lonely hours which he and Nancy
+passed together, he had told her the story of the crime which
+our readers will not fail to have attributed to him and his evil
+companions; and together the repentant man and his wife petitioned the
+throne of grace for pardon through the Redeemer's name and for His sake.</p>
+
+<p>"I am justly punished for my sin," the young man had said, concluding
+his painful recital. "I met my death at the hand of my own brother
+while I was robbing my own father; but God is merciful as well as just,
+for here is another dying thief turning to Christ at the eleventh hour
+for salvation. Now I know how he felt when he cried, 'Lord, remember me
+when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.'"</p>
+
+<p>There was no more sullenness now; there were no unkind words, no surly
+looks. The sick man was truly penitent and humble, only saddened at the
+thought of harm done that could not be repaired, and those estranged
+who might never be recovered.</p>
+
+<p>As for Nancy, it need scarcely be said how she rejoiced in the blessed
+change that had come over her husband's heart and life; and while tears
+often rained down her face at the thought of losing one who had always
+been dear, and now had grown doubly precious, she thanked God for His
+great mercy in answering her prayers for his salvation.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>And now, leaving the cottage of Father Francis for a short time, we
+may just glance at "the house that Jack built," and see how the little
+company there are getting on.</p>
+
+<p>It is the mid-day meal, and four persons are sitting at table—John
+Drinkrow and his son, Mrs. Drinkrow and her son Frank, the latter no
+longer tattered and torn, but looking quite respectable. A servant,
+neatly dressed, brings in the dishes and sets them on the table. The
+meal, though not at all extravagant, is plentiful and well served.
+There is a look of comfort, too, about the room; and apparently John
+Drinkrow, at least, is becoming reconciled to the change, through the
+quiet persistency of his wife, and the increased comfort of all his
+surroundings.</p>
+
+<p>Nor had the miser made any great opposition to Frank's remaining in
+the house for a few days, and occupying Ratcliffe's old room. None, at
+least, after his wife had replied to his first objections by saying,
+"Well, John, of course Frank ain't your son, so it ain't a wonder you
+don't want him. He ain't got many days to spend on shore, and I'll tell
+him he'd better go to the Jewel and Crown and get a bed there. After
+all, if he's asked why he don't stay along of his mother, he can say as
+his mother's sitiwated different now, and her husband can't afford to
+feed an extra mouth for four days."</p>
+
+<p>As for Tom, he found his stepmother a far more clever and formidable
+adversary than poor Mrs. Curr had been; and, though he could not but
+enjoy the greater comfort of home, he grudged more than John himself
+did, the additional sum spent upon its attainment.</p>
+
+<p>To her husband—excepting in cases where he was obviously in the
+wrong—Sarah Drinkrow was as obedient and docile a wife as the most
+exacting husband could desire; but Tom's character was one for which
+she had a particular dislike; and, though she carefully avoided
+quarrelling with her stepson, she made him feel that she was a
+controlling influence in the house, and that she neither liked nor
+trusted him.</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice of late she had ventured to speak to her husband about
+his son Ratcliffe, and, by dint of tact and persuasion, got him at last
+to tell her why he had sent him away.</p>
+
+<p>"There don't seem as if there 'd been quite enough reason for your
+turning him off sudden like that, John," said she. "It's one thing to
+punish a lad, or not give him money when he wants it to waste, but it's
+another to disown your own flesh and blood."</p>
+
+<p>The miser excused himself by saying that his conduct was justified by
+Ratcliffe's years of wild life and undutiful behaviour; but his wife's
+words struck a sore spot in his heart notwithstanding.</p>
+
+<p>Of late, the questions of strangers, the parting words of Mrs. Curr,
+and, above all, the absence of news from Ratcliffe himself, had
+disturbed him. In vain he tried as before to stifle all feeling, and
+to become absorbed in his business and his savings. His marriage
+had introduced a new element into his life, and he found himself
+continually going, a step at a time, out of his usual groove, while Tom
+looked on with malicious envy at a change the progress of which he was
+powerless to resist.</p>
+
+<p>Such, then, was the condition of things as the little party of four
+sat round the dinner-table, three listening, while Frank, who was a
+thorough sailor in his love of "yarns" told tales of the sea and of his
+own experience abroad. He was interrupted, however, by the entrance of
+the servant with a telegram, which she handed to John. The old man's
+hand shook as he opened it, and read, but not aloud, the following
+sentence:—</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"From Ratcliffe.—I am dying, and must see you once more. I have
+something to confess, and must ask pardon. Come quickly." This, with
+the address, was all.<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>The paper dropped out of the miser's hand and fluttered to the floor,
+and the great change in his face showed the genuineness of the shock he
+had received.</p>
+
+<p>His wife got up from her seat, and, coming round, picked up the paper,
+read its contents, and placed it on the table, saying, as she laid her
+hand on her husband's shoulder—</p>
+
+<p>"You will go, of course, John?"</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom also took up the telegram and read it; and, turning to his
+father, said roughly—</p>
+
+<p>"Surely you won't be so silly as to go, father? This is nothing but a
+scheme to take you in, and make you receive Ratcliffe home again. I
+don't believe he's ill a bit. Why should he be?"</p>
+
+<p>Tom's stepmother cast one wrathful look at him, but his father as yet
+was silent. He sat with his head on his hands, and his elbows on the
+table. No one could tell that he had heard his wife, or his son, in
+their conflicting advice. Perhaps he had heard neither. His thoughts
+were busy—strangely so—considering the time and circumstances, with a
+train of memories which Ratcliffe's name and the sudden message had
+called up. Dying! Ratcliffe dying! Could it be possible? After all it
+was not so very long since they had met. He had said to himself again
+and again that he had no love for this undutiful son. Then what was
+it now that hurt him so in the thought that his boy was dying? What a
+pretty little fellow Ratcliffe had been as a tiny child of two years,
+sitting on his mother's knee, and playing with his baby toys! What
+winning ways he had, and what a loving, tender heart!</p>
+
+<p>And so one thing followed another in the old man's mind, till it came
+to that night when he had refused to hear any excuse or explanation
+that his son had to offer, and when, by his unmerciful, unfatherly
+sentence, he had cut him adrift to shift for himself. And not a word
+had come of tidings from this cast-off child—not a word pleading for
+forgiveness, not a petition for help. The first news was to be this,
+this fatal message flashed along the wires, and bearing a blow bitter
+as death itself to the remorseful father's heart.</p>
+
+<p>The miser got up from the table, and, looking like one in a dream,
+staggered into the next room, saying as he did so—</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Sarah."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Drinkrow followed him, and so did Tom, unbidden.</p>
+
+<p>"It's nothing but a hoax, father; I assure you it's nothing else.
+'They've' tried every other dodge, and now 'they' start this to work on
+your feelings."</p>
+
+<p>The miser looked up with one of his old suspicious looks.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by 'they,' Tom?" said he, now thoroughly roused.
+"Ratcliffe isn't they."</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Tom, a cruel pleasure dawning in his face, as now at
+last he thought he held the key to his brother's final and hopeless
+disgrace. "No," he repeated, "not he alone, but he and his wife."</p>
+
+<p>"His wife!" echoed John. "How can he be married?"</p>
+
+<p>"He has been for ever so long," replied Tom; "and there's a child, too.
+See what a deceitful managing fellow he's been—just the one to take you
+in now, and make you believe in that absurd dying."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, John, John!" cried his wife. "Don't listen to Tom; he's always
+been against his brother. Listen to me, or listen to your own heart,
+which must feel for your child."</p>
+
+<p>The old man raised his head. He was recovering from the shock, and a
+little of his own natural perception and acuteness were returning to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you say," he questioned, turning to Tom, "that your brother was
+married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did," said Tom, triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>"And that there was a child?"</p>
+
+<p>"And that there is a child," answered Tom, "for I don't suppose
+'that's' gone and died too."</p>
+
+<p>"And you knew of this some time ago?" asked John, with a calmness which
+might well have deceived even a less sanguine man than Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," replied he, adding, with a hypocritical air, "but of course
+I could not bear to get my brother into trouble by telling of him."</p>
+
+<p>"How 'very' kind and considerate, to be sure!" said Mrs. Drinkrow, with
+a toss of her head that would have thrown Tom into the air, had she
+been an infuriated cow instead of a woman.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, 'very' kind and considerate," repeated John, with emphasis. Then
+with a sudden, passionate gesture, which seemed but the natural outlet
+for a world of pent-up feeling, he cried—</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to say, Tom, that, knowing this, you stood by and let me
+cut the boy off without a shilling, and never said, 'Father, if you do
+this, his wife and child may starve?' His getting married was foolish,
+and his hiding it was wrong, but you've done the wickedest thing of
+all, in not telling me at the right time. Sarah, get my things ready;
+I'm off to my boy by the next train."</p>
+
+<p>Furious at his unexpected defeat, Tom went away to his duties at the
+bar, while John walked upstairs, and his wife, while preparing a
+carpet-bag for the journey, told him such parts of Ratcliffe's story as
+she had heard from Mrs. Curr, and which she thought might still further
+soften the father's heart towards his son.</p>
+
+<p>She was still busily arranging things when John said, "Would you like
+to go with me, wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, that I should," replied she; "if poor Ratcliffe's so bad, his wife
+and child will need some help, and at least I needn't be in the way."</p>
+
+<p>That night John Drinkrow and his wife were steaming along in the train,
+and Tom, after supplying his latest customers with the slow poison they
+loved, laid his guilty head upon an unquiet pillow, and brooded over
+the failure of his attempt longer to separate father and son.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>It is not our intention in this story to detail the meeting between
+John and Ratcliffe, or to recount his confession, or the reconciliation
+that followed.</p>
+
+<p>No one was present as the penitent prodigal met his sad and remorseful
+father—as the grievous sin was confessed, and the father forgave, and
+craved forgiveness in the same breath.</p>
+
+<p>But out of that chamber where the shadow of death was already
+gathering, John Drinkrow stepped a changed man; and the prodigal having
+made his peace with his earthly father, now rested tranquil and serene
+in the loving arms of his Father in heaven.</p>
+
+<p>A few more hours and the young man's heart had ceased to beat, and the
+ransomed spirit had gone home to the God who gave it, to the Saviour
+who had purchased it.</p>
+
+<p>Nancy was sitting the same evening in the little kitchen, holding her
+child on her knee, and feeling that but for her she would fain be at
+rest, as was her beloved husband, when all at once a heavy, but not
+ungentle, hand was laid upon her shoulder, and a voice said huskily—</p>
+
+<p>"My girl, I've worked no end of trouble and sorrow in your life, and
+that of my boy that's gone. God forgive me! But now listen, Nancy, and
+believe I mean what I say. My son's wife must make her home with me,
+and so long as I've a crust or—no—so long as I've a piece of gold left,
+you and your child shall share it with me."</p>
+
+<p>A burst of tears was Nancy's only answer, and the child, seeing sorrow
+and sympathy in the rough face bent over her, put up her golden head,
+pouted her red lips, and said,—</p>
+
+<p>"Baby love oo, danpa."</p>
+
+<p>"Now bless her sweet little heart!" sobbed Mrs. Curr, who came in with
+Mrs. Drinkrow at that moment. "And God bless you too, master, which
+you've showed yourself a true father; and the blessing of the widder
+and the fatherless will be your'n for sure, as safe as my name is
+Jemima."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Drinkrow remained in lodgings, close by the good priest's
+cottage, until after the funeral. Then bidding farewell to Father
+Francis and Jim Cocks, the whole party journeyed home to their London
+suburb.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>But now came a wonderful change in the condition of "the House that
+Jack built."</p>
+
+<p>The strong-room was turned into a bath-room, the iron safe was sold,
+the money invested, and, strangest of all, the tavern was turned into
+a temperance coffee-house, where everything might be obtained except
+intoxicating liquors.</p>
+
+<p>Of course nearly the whole neighbourhood prophesied evil about this
+alteration; but the prophecies were disregarded, the necessary
+alterations went on, and the business was persevered in.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, however, who was among the loudest of the grumblers, found that no
+attention was paid to anything he said, and, taking offence at this,
+he soon told his father that he should look-out for a situation which
+might suit him better than the new work of "the House that Jack built."</p>
+
+<p>John made no objection to this. Tom's character had grown very
+distasteful to him, and though he kept faithfully a promise he had
+made to Ratcliffe, never to tell Tom that he had been the means of his
+brother's death, yet the fact was not forgotten by the father, and he
+was not sorry when Tom took himself off, having obtained a situation in
+a public-house at some distance.</p>
+
+<p>There we leave Thomas Drinkrow, certain that, though he has not
+received actual punishment for his hardheartedness and deceit, yet that
+such a heart constitutes its own punishment; and, however vindictively
+we may feel towards him, we can wish him nothing worse.</p>
+
+<p>As for Mrs. Curr, she took a little room near, and used often to pop in
+for a chat with "Sairey Ann," or to play with the pet and darling of
+the house, little Maida, of whom she was increasingly fond.</p>
+
+<p>Our friend Nancy was thankful to work hard, and try to forget her
+loneliness, in the duties of helping to get and keep a new business;
+and her sweet face and gentle manner did not a little in the way of
+attracting customers.</p>
+
+<p>Frank Moo went back to sea, but made occasional visits to his mother
+when his ship happened to be in port. He was a great favourite with his
+stepfather, who always gave him a hearty welcome.</p>
+
+<p>And with this summing-up our story comes to a close. Nor need we add
+any moral, for if characters and incidents convey no lesson, vain
+indeed will have been our writing, and your perusal, dear readers, of—</p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+"THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image015" style="max-width: 25.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image015.jpg" alt="image015">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="t1">
+<b><a id="Another_Moses">ANOTHER MOSES.</a></b><br>
+<br>
+————————————<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IT was night—or at least the time that seems to belong rather to the
+night than to the day—about two o'clock. A gusty night, too, for
+August, but not cold; and the moon now and then stole from behind a
+cloud and shone down upon the mud-flats and low marsh-land, and upon
+the dark, sullen tidal river that flowed through them, on which, where
+the stream met the sea, stood the fishing village of Orlmuck.</p>
+
+<p>It was a desolate, solitary scene. Far away, nearer the sea-line,
+glimmered the light in a coast-guard's cabin, and a few sheep dotted
+the dark green of the grass here and there; but these did not take
+from the weirdness of the place, nor break the stillness which the
+thickening fog made more deathlike.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, out of the mists and under the moon, emerged a woman carrying
+a child in her arms. Her long, black hair streamed out on the wind
+behind her; her head had no other covering.</p>
+
+<p>The wan light above rested on the pale, wild face and horror-stricken
+eyes, and the wind itself, as it moaned along the marsh and ruffled
+the surface of the winding river, might have shuddered at the strange
+words that she uttered as she flitted along the slimy mud-bank by the
+water-side.</p>
+
+<p>There was madness in the eager yet shrinking gaze that bent itself
+upon the sullen depths beneath her. Madness in the passionate kisses
+which ever and anon she pressed upon the child's cheeks and lips. Wild,
+despairing madness in the resolute white mouth, with its set teeth.</p>
+
+<p>At length she paused, took off her shawl and folded it round the little
+boy, looking into his quiet sleeping face with a strange expression
+of sorrowful love and mad resolve. But now she turned her head away,
+and gazed steadfastly for a moment or two upon the river, murmuring
+hurriedly to herself, "He must go! He cannot live without his mother,
+and deserted by his own father. He must die, and this is the best I can
+do for him. I shall follow him directly. There, darling, one more kiss,
+and good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>So saying, her lips touched his forehead, then she raised him in both
+arms and, with a low cry, threw him down the bank into the water.</p>
+
+<p>When she had done this, she clapped both hands to her ears and darted
+away along the river-side as though she dreaded to hear the voice of
+the little one whom she had left to perish.</p>
+
+<p>Swiftly she passed on to the spot where she intended to end her own
+wretched life. But we need not follow her, for we have only to do with
+the child—the poor forsaken babe. In the mother's haste, and in her
+horror lest she should see the little one's struggles in the water, she
+had not calculated upon the distance between her and the sullen flow of
+the river. She had thrown him from her, as we have seen, down the bank;
+but, as it happened, the tide was ebbing fast, and though where the
+child fell there was water, it was only a few inches deep, not enough
+to drown him; and even this in half an hour ebbed away, leaving the
+deserted little fellow vainly trying to clamber out of the mud.</p>
+
+<p>At last, quite exhausted with his efforts and in vain cries for his
+mother, he laid his curly head on a stone half buried in the mud, and
+fell asleep, just as the dawn was throwing open the black gates of
+night and bringing in a new day.</p>
+
+<p>And with the new day comes a brighter picture for our readers, for
+as the sun rose, and began to cheer the world, and to gild even the
+dark mud-flats and light up the murky river, Jael Jones, old Fisher
+Jones's only child, came from her home for her usual morning run before
+breakfast. Fisher Jones's cottage stood just outside the village, and
+not far from the bit of sandy beach strewn with shells, that showed
+where the river ended and the sea began.</p>
+
+<p>A strange man was Peter Jones—or Bible Jones, as his fellow-fishermen
+called him from his wonderful knowledge of the Holy Book, and his great
+love for it. Not that they named him thus in ridicule, however; not a
+man amongst them would have laughed at him, they respected him far too
+much for that. But somehow the name of Bible Jones had been given him,
+and the old man felt it an honour and a privilege, and accepted it as
+such.</p>
+
+<p>He had married late in life, and had made—at least, so folks said—not
+the wisest choice in the world.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jones was a good-hearted woman, but she had been in service in
+what she considered grand families, and had acquired a few notions
+which had not improved her.</p>
+
+<p>It was reported among the villagers that Peter Jones would never have
+asked her to be his wife but for one thing, which made him decide in
+her favour. He had heard, through a friend and fellow-servant of hers,
+what an industrious, hard-working woman Catherine Gobie was, and how,
+when she dusted her master's library, her greatest care was to keep
+from every speck of dust the big Bible used at prayers in the family
+every night and morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Such a woman," thought Peter, "must be a treasure; for if she thinks
+so much of the mere cover of the Holy Book, how much more she will
+value its sacred teachings!" And arguing thus in his honest, simple
+heart, he went to Catherine Gobie, and offered her his hand, and they
+were married in a month's time.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! Poor Peter soon discovered that his wife's interest in the Bible
+did not get much beyond the binding, and also that she had but little
+sympathy with him in his Christian life, or indeed power to understand
+his feelings. But when a daughter was born to them, a precious gift of
+God to his old age, Peter began to feel comforted, and more hopeful.
+This little one should be early taught out of the Blessed Book; its
+narratives, its characters, and maxims should form part of her life.
+He named her Jael in a burst of enthusiastic admiration for the
+unflinching, courageous patriotism of the wife of Heber the Kenite,
+though perhaps he would scarcely have chosen (could he have done so)
+the same sort of character for his child.</p>
+
+<p>As she grew older, his great pleasure was in storing her memory with
+sacred lore, and in leading her young heart through all the beautiful
+outer courts of the Old Testament Scripture to the real Holy of Holies
+where Christ Himself, seen afar off before, now had become known as the
+Lover and Saviour of men, and—as Jael early believed, and rejoiced to
+think—of little children too.</p>
+
+<p>And now Jael was nine years old, a light-hearted, loving-natured,
+impulsive child, yet with every feeling and thought coloured and
+impressed by the religious training which made part of her life.</p>
+
+<p>It was no want of reverence that caused little Jael to associate Bible
+characters with the most common scenes and practical incidents of her
+everyday life.</p>
+
+<p>She had always thought that it must have been on just such a strip of
+sandy beach as that near Orlmuck that Jesus was walking when He called
+the fishermen to be His disciples. Every bald head suggested Elisha.
+A glorious sunset of crimson, fire, and gold gave her solemn thoughts
+of Elijah and the chariot and horses of fire; and she had all her life
+imagined that the mantle that fell from the great prophet as he left
+the earth, and that was the symbol of power to Elisha, must have been
+just like that black silk mantilla that her mother was married in, and
+that was only produced now on rare occasions of becoming gravity and
+importance.</p>
+
+<p>She recalled Solomon, and longed for something of his wisdom as she
+picked a wild flower which to her was without a name. The village
+church was the temple; and pretty, pensive Mrs. Williams, taking her
+boy Johnnie to morning Sunday-school, might have been Hannah of old
+leading her little Samuel to dedicate him to the temple service.</p>
+
+<p>Two brothers, joiners, who lived at a short distance from Peter's
+cottage, were just what she had fancied Jacob and Esau to be, and she
+was hardly four years old when she astonished one of them (a hairy,
+rough-looking fellow) by asking him if he'd "been naughty and sold his
+'birt-right.'"</p>
+
+<p>The blacksmith, the giant of Orlmuck, was another Goliath, only good
+instead of wicked, and David was represented to Jael's mind by the
+rosy-checked, fair-haired lad who came now and then on to the green
+flats to look after the sheep, and occasionally give them a feed of
+turnips and mangel-wurzel.</p>
+
+<p>Such then were little Jael's associations; but any one who had seen
+her on this bright August morning, would have felt sure that whatever
+influence the Bible might have had over her life, at least it was no
+painful or saddening one, for never was there a sunnier face, nor a
+step more light, nor a voice more blithe in its joyous, lark-like
+carolling. And now, as she bounded along the grass by the river, her
+close-cropped brown waves of hair taking a golden shade from the sun,
+it would have been hard to find a little maiden happier or more light
+of heart.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly her springing step was checked. For one instant the colour
+left her cheek, then came back in a flood of crimson glow.</p>
+
+<p>There, on the mud-bank at her very feet, partly wrapped in an old
+shawl, which the sun and wind had not yet dried—there with hair
+dripping and matted, and poor wee hands scratched with sharp flints and
+broken shells, and dyed in the black ooze of the river—there, with his
+little golden head pillowed on a flat stone, lay a child, perhaps two
+years of age, and fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Down on her knees beside him, in a wandering ecstasy, went Jael, and
+peered into the sleeper's face; but the eyes did not open, and save for
+the heaving of the tiny chest, she would have thought it was a drowned
+child, such as the one her father had seen washed up on the beach long
+years ago.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl's mind and heart were full of mingled thoughts and
+feelings as she stood looking at her new treasure.</p>
+
+<p>No doubt, she said to herself, God had sent her this child because He
+knew she had no brothers and sisters. Perhaps He had even worked a
+miracle as He used to do in the old times, and her heart in its simple
+faith went out in grateful, childlike thanksgiving. The thought never
+crossed her mind that the little one could be claimed by any one else;
+God had guided her to him, and she felt sure that he now belonged to
+her, and to her only.</p>
+
+<p>"You're my boy, now," she whispered, in tender tones. And lifting the
+child in her strong, muscular young arms, she carried him back across
+the flat, towards her home.</p>
+
+<p>He woke up on the way and moaned a little, and she soothed him with
+gentle caresses like a wee mother.</p>
+
+<p>With a glad face yet solemn eyes, full of a new care and
+responsibility, she entered the cottage and walked straight up to her
+father, who sat with his great Bible open, waiting for Jael to come
+home to prayers.</p>
+
+<p>"See, father, see!" she said. "God has sent me this little boy to love
+and take care of."</p>
+
+<p>She paused a moment, while old Peter looked over his spectacles at her
+in speechless wonder. Then she added gravely, in low, clear tones,—</p>
+
+<p>"And she called his name Moses: and she said, Because I drew him out of
+the water."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Peter," remarked Mrs. Jones to her husband that night, "you
+ain't a-goin' to give in to that child's odd notions, surely? You won't
+keep the little boy? Jael's that stupid in Bibly stories that I'll be
+bound she'll think herself a Ethiopian stranger princess next, and
+bound to save every foundlin' she come across."</p>
+
+<p>"If, Catherine, you mean Pharaoh's daughter, she was 'Egyptian,'"
+responded Peter, who often had to set his wife right on such subjects.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Peter, and pray what do it matter?" exclaimed Mrs. Jones,
+peevishly. "Them outlandish creatures is all alike. To my mind a
+foundlin's a foundlin', and ought to be give up to the parish."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm loth to do that till I hear something more about the child and
+how it came there," said Peter, quietly. "Our little maid has no
+companions, and she seems to have set her heart on this boy, which now
+he's washed and tidied up, he do seem a sweet little fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"How can you tell, though, what he's sprung from?" remarked Mrs. Jones,
+severely. "It may be from the lowest of the low. You forget that
+we're respectable folk, Peter; leastways, though I may be mistook,
+I've always thought so; and we musn't go for to do anything as ain't
+becomin' to our respectableness."</p>
+
+<p>Peter looked up. "I'll do nothing, wife," said he, "what 'll get you
+nor any of us into trouble. But afore we hold our heads so high and
+think of others being low, let's think of the Master who never once, as
+I knows on, asked whether a child was respectable born and brought up
+afore He stretched out His arms and said, 'Suffer the little children
+to come unto Me, and forbid them not.' Don't forget, Catherine, that of
+such is the kingdom of heaven."</p>
+
+<p>"Bible again!" sighed Catherine. "I never see such a man! I believe, if
+I told you your shirts was wearin' out and would have to be re-fronted,
+you'd find some reason out of the Bible why I should or why I shouldn't
+do them."</p>
+
+<p>Peter said nothing to this. His wife's opinions were not new to him,
+and his forbearance was often severely taxed. If Catherine had but
+realised that it was from the comfort and teaching of the Holy Book
+that Peter drew his wonderful patience and gentleness towards herself,
+perhaps she would have refrained sometimes from nagging at her husband.
+But she was a woman who had no keen perceptions or delicate feelings,
+neither was she accustomed to restrain her words. So Peter's lot was
+not without its trials, and, but for his child, he would have had but
+little pleasure or satisfaction in his married life.</p>
+
+<p>Jael, however, was a great comfort and blessing. Her fresh young life
+made him recall the days of his youth; and her quick understanding of
+the things that interested him most brought her more into sympathy with
+him than could have been possible otherwise. Child though she was, her
+faith was hardly more simple than was that of her father, and to him
+she could pour out her childish thoughts and feelings, sure of being
+understood and helped.</p>
+
+<p>The next day came the sad news that the body of a woman had been
+found on the shore a mile beyond Orlmuck, but that no clue had been
+discovered as to who she was. There was nothing to connect the child
+with this dead woman, however.</p>
+
+<p>And Peter Jones now felt that whose ever the little boy was, he might
+keep him at least until he was claimed. So one evening, some little
+time after, he called Jael to him, and said, "I think, little daughter,
+we needn't fear now that the child will be taken away from us. He will
+belong to our family, and mother and father will try to be kind to him
+and teach him to be good, and I know my little Jael will do the same."</p>
+
+<p>Jael glanced up in her father's face.</p>
+
+<p>The doubt of being able to keep Moses had not as yet crossed her mind,
+because she had felt so sure that God had sent him to her. At last she
+said, "Father, no one but God shall take Moses away from me. If He
+calls him, I'll let him go, but not to nobody else."</p>
+
+<p>Fisher Jones said no more, and from this time Moses became a member of
+the family, and Jael's great delight.</p>
+
+<p>Nor Jael's alone. Peter grew to love the sunny little face and golden
+head that nestled up against his knee when he came in from his fishing
+and sat down in the chimney corner.</p>
+
+<p>At first the little fellow would cry for his mother in pitiful tones,
+and shrank from Peter and Catherine; but after a while, he grew
+reconciled to the faces of the old people, and began to show real
+affection for Peter. To Jael he took a fancy from the beginning,
+toddling after her wherever she went, and calling out "Jai! Jai!!"
+which was the nearest approach he could make to her name, while Jael
+acted the careful mother to perfection.</p>
+
+<p>It was Jael who washed and dressed the child in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>One day Mrs. Jones tried the experiment of getting him ready, but she
+never tried it again. The little fellow did nothing but sob and cry all
+the time in the most heartbroken way, gasping out, "Jai, tum to Mo!
+Jai, tum, tum!"</p>
+
+<p>He had accepted his name of Moses at once, and always spoke of himself
+as Mo or Baby, seeming to know no other. By the neighbours he was
+called "Old Bible's boy," and the history of his finding made him quite
+an object of interest to those who would otherwise have taken no notice
+of him.</p>
+
+<p>Jael had for two years belonged to a day-school at Orlmuck, and as
+there was a room for infants as well, it was thought best that Mo
+should become a scholar. Accordingly the two children trudged off
+together every day across the grass plots to the village, past the very
+place where the little one had been found. And very proud and happy was
+Jael when she heard other children saying, as she passed them, "There
+goes Bible Jones's girl and her boy."</p>
+
+<p>But even the possession of her new treasure was not quite unmixed
+pleasure for Jael. Mo was the cause sometimes of a deal of anxiety and
+trouble.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, one day all the children of the boys', girls', and
+infants' schools had come out into the playground for half an hour's
+recess, and to eat the luncheon they had brought with them.</p>
+
+<p>The night before, Mrs. Jones had made a small seed-cake for her two
+little people, and now Jael cut it in half and gave Mo his portion.
+The little fellow was just beginning to eat the tempting morsel when a
+boy, rather bigger and older than Jael, walked up to him, and snatching
+the cake out of his hand, gave him a blow on the side of the head
+which sent the child staggering up against the fence near which he was
+standing.</p>
+
+<p>Moses, who did not resemble his illustrious namesake as yet in meekness
+and patience, set up a howl of indignation and pain, and made a little
+feeble rush—baby-like—to revenge his wrongs with his tiny fists. But
+his champion was too quick for him. Jael threw her bit of cake into the
+child's hands and darted like a little fury upon the boy, her cheeks
+crimson, her great eyes flashing, while the cowardly bully, astonished
+and somewhat frightened, retreated to the other side of the ground,
+hooted and laughed at by all the other boys.</p>
+
+<p>After that Mo was usually pretty safe from insult; still, he always
+kept as near to his young protectress as he possibly could.</p>
+
+<p>But that night when Jael said her prayers at her father's knee as
+usual, she amazed him rather by commencing with the words, "Blessed is
+the Lord which teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight." But
+his eyes grew moist and glistening when her voice dropped into tones
+of penitence, and she added in her own simple style, "But, please God,
+I'm afraid I get too angry, 'cause I scratched as well as hit. But,
+O Lord, Thou knows why it all was, and how I love little Mo what I
+pulled out of the mud, and what's too small to fight with Joe Brown
+himself. And I hope it wasn't no worse than David fightin' the lion and
+the bear to save the lamb of the flock—'cause Joe's just like a wild
+beast sometimes; and if he'd had a beard, I'd have took him by it like
+David—only I'm glad he hadn't, for p'r'aps I'd have slew him, and then
+I'd have been sorry. But now, please God, let everybody be very good
+to little Mo, for he hasn't no father nor mother, and he's such a tiny
+fellow still, and make me very patient and kind, and help me to train
+him up in the way he should go, for Christ's sake. Amen."</p>
+
+<p>Any one but old Peter would have smiled at this prayer—the outpouring
+of the full little heart accustomed to tell God everything. But Peter
+only wiped a tear from his cheek and kissed Jael more tenderly even
+than usual as she said good night. For the world he would not have
+checked the innocent confidence of that child-heart—a heart so tender
+and frank and true, and that realised so vividly the Heavenly Father's
+presence.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>We have seen that Jael was not one of those faultless children whom we
+sometimes find in books, but rarely, if ever, in real life. We have had
+occasion to notice that she had a quick, hot temper, which soon rose
+when provoked.</p>
+
+<p>Very specially she resented any interference in her management of
+little Moses, or fault found with what concerned them both; and now and
+then Mrs. Jones was the cause of naughtiness and distress without at
+all meaning it.</p>
+
+<p>One holiday Jael and Moses were playing together in Jael's room—a tiny
+place opening out of her father's and mother's apartment, and just big
+enough for her bed and little Mo's crib, and a wee space on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>A kind carpenter at Orlmuck had made the children a box of blocks, and
+with these they were very fond of building.</p>
+
+<p>A Noah's Ark, with the box-lid for the bottom, was often launched
+upon the mighty deluge of the floor boards, with a priceless freight
+of living creatures in the shape of shells, old cotton-bobbins, and
+similar cargo. Or a Tower of Babel reared its stately pile against the
+wall under the window, toppling over at last through some oversight on
+the part of the little architects and builders.</p>
+
+<p>Jael's and Mo's amusements were nearly all of a grave and Scriptural
+character—indeed, it seemed as if the little girl was so steeped in
+Bible stories and their spirit, that whatever she did took the form of
+something she had read in or heard from the good old Book.</p>
+
+<p>On this day in particular Jael had been telling her little companion,
+in the simplest words she could command, of the great Moses whose
+namesake he was, and who led the children of Israel out of dark, cruel
+Egypt, where they had been so badly treated and made to work so hard.
+To make things plainer to the child's baby mind, Jael conceived the
+ingenious plan of illustrating everything with the blocks, and thus,
+with a big block for Moses, a host of smaller ones for the children of
+Israel, the dark space under the bed for Egypt, and a large wash-hand
+basin for the Red Sea, she managed at last to interest Mo in the
+stirring story of Israel's escape.</p>
+
+<p>But just as she had got to the triumphant landing of the favoured
+people on the other side, the door opened, and Mrs. Jones appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my gracious!" exclaimed the good woman. "What's all this mess for?
+Really, Jael, you ought to know better than to teach Mo such naughty
+untidy ways. Get that wash-basin up at once, and put it back in its
+place."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother, we've got nothing else for the Red Sea!" pleaded poor
+Jael, who had thoroughly entered into the spirit of the story, and had
+been gratified with little Mo's evident interest and pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Red Sea, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones. "What has the Red Sea to do
+with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Tisn't for us, it's for the children of Israel," replied Jael,
+somewhat nettled that her mother could not understand.</p>
+
+<p>"For the children of Israel? What does the child mean?" said Catherine.
+"Children of Israel, indeed! I think I've enough to do with the
+children of Peter Jones!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dese b'ocks is til'en of Is'el," lisped little Mo, proudly pointing
+out the wooden host; "and dere's big Mo."</p>
+
+<p>"What humbug and nonsense!" responded Mrs. Jones. "You tell that child
+such rubbish, Jael, I'm ashamed of you. A great girl like you ought to
+know better."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, mother, 'tisn't true! I never teach Mo nothing naughty. He
+couldn't understand about the Israelites and all that, so I showed him
+with the blocks, and told him the story that way, and put a basin for
+the Red Sea."</p>
+
+<p>"If you're a-goin' for to say to your own mother as she's a liar, Miss
+Jael, I shall just speak to your father. The idea of tellin' me to my
+face as I said what wasn't true! Now set to work and clear away them
+Ishmaelites and that there Dead Sea, and all the nonsense, and give Mo
+his ball to play with, and you go and get your towels to hem."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother! Mayn't we just finish?" cried Jael. "We'd brought the
+Israelites to the other side, and the Egyptians are all drowned and
+dead, and we was going to have the song of triumph."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll sing another sort of song if you say a word more!" said Mrs.
+Jones, now really vexed, and, taking up the Red Sea, she emptied it and
+the Egyptians into her pail, the unhappy pursuers being represented by
+some scraps of blue sugar-loaf paper.</p>
+
+<p>Jael looked up in her mother's face, the colour flashing angrily into
+her own, and said she, "Father wouldn't have done that! Only you call
+things naughty that isn't; and you're very unkind, and you set me tasks
+just like the naughty Egyptians, and you make me to serve with rigour!"</p>
+
+<p>This last sentence came out with grand emphasis. Jael was not very
+sure of its meaning, but she thought it sounded well, and now, in her
+passion, she felt inclined to put things as strongly as possible.</p>
+
+<p>The only answer to her rude, angry speech was a box on the ear and a
+hearty shake, which raised Jael's temper to boiling-point, and sent
+little Mo into a fit of terror and sobbing, during which Mrs. Jones
+went out of the room and left the children to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>To do Catherine Jones justice, she was really wishful to do what was
+right, but she had some set notions, and her want of sympathy with
+her husband, and understanding of "his" character, prevented her
+understanding Jael's also.</p>
+
+<p>To go out of the room, however, after the storm we have just described,
+was about the wisest thing she could have done under the circumstances,
+for Jael, no longer opposed, came to herself, a process helped somewhat
+by poor Mo's distress.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't cry, darlin'," whispered the little adopted mother, drawing
+the frightened child towards her from the corner where he had placed
+himself with his face to the wall. "Don't cry, Mo; come to Jae." And
+sitting down on the floor all among the wooden Israelites, she took the
+little one on to her lap, and, comforting him, forgot in part her own
+anger and misery.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jones, who had perhaps some few pangs of conscience for having
+so completely lost her temper, did not come near the children again
+for the rest of the afternoon, and when Peter returned home about six
+o'clock he was surprised that neither Jael nor Mo ran, after their
+usual fashion, to meet him.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are the children, wife?" he asked, as he entered the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"Upstairs somewhere," replied Catherine. "I've been too busy to attend
+to them these two hours or more."</p>
+
+<p>The old man went to the foot of the staircase and called softly, "Jael,
+Mo, father's come home."</p>
+
+<p>Then, receiving no answer, and not hearing the patter of their little
+feet, he went up.</p>
+
+<p>His own door stood open, but Jael's was shut. He opened it noiselessly,
+and spied his daughter sitting on the floor and leaning against the
+bed, with Mo in her lap. Both children were fast asleep, and there were
+traces of tears on each face, showing to Peter's quick eye that there
+had been a storm of some sort.</p>
+
+<p>Gently he laid his hand on Jael's head, saying, "Tea-time, my girl.
+Come down and have tea with father."</p>
+
+<p>Then taking little Mo up in his arms, he carried him down, while Jael
+remained behind to wash the tear-stains from her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Jael," said Peter that night, when the little maiden came to say her
+prayers at his knee, "what happened to you and Moses this afternoon?
+Had you been naughty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not Mo, but 'I' had, father. I was cross to mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell father all about it," said Peter, in the tender voice that always
+drew out of Jael's heart all her troubles and their pain.</p>
+
+<p>Then Jael began at the beginning, keeping back none of the truth,
+and telling all in the simple child-language which is more eloquent,
+because unconsciously so, than the studied speech of the wisest man.</p>
+
+<p>"You were very wrong, my child," said Peter, as she finished. "It was
+your duty to do at once what mother wished, even if you saw no harm in
+your game. Children, obey your parents in all things: you know where
+that is written, Jael?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," whispered Jael.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you told mother you're sorry?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, father."</p>
+
+<p>"Then do so before you sleep. You'll rest all the better for God's
+forgiveness, and hers too. God bless you, my little daughter."</p>
+
+<p>As Jael went out, she met Catherine.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," said she, penitently, "I was naughty to get so cross with you
+this afternoon; please forgive me."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jones stooped down and kissed the child. "Forgive you, Jael? Of
+course I will. Why, bless you, my girl, I lost my temper too, it's only
+right to say. 'Tain't often as I lay a finger on you, is it, Jael? And
+I'm sorry I did it, but I was vexed, and didn't stop to think. Forgive
+me, too, Jael, and then we'll be quits."</p>
+
+<p>If Mrs. Jones had thought for a month, she could not have taken a
+better method of effacing the unpleasant little episode from the
+child's mind.</p>
+
+<p>The mother's frank confession that she also had been in the wrong made
+Jael's generous heart doubly sorry, and she respected the humility that
+was willing to acknowledge a fault to a child.</p>
+
+<p>Impulsively she threw her arms round Catherine's neck, and a few tears
+were shed on both sides ere mother and child parted for the night.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Winter had come; the Christmas holidays had begun for Jael and Mo. It
+was a mild Christmas this year, no frost or snow, only plenty of wind
+and a glorious wild sea dashing up on the beach all along the coast
+beyond Orlmuck.</p>
+
+<p>Jael and Mo were two hardy little creatures, and nothing gave them so
+much pleasure as to race along the shore, at the foot of the cliffs,
+picking up shells, and now and then a bit of amber, listening to the
+roar of the sea, and watching its great hoary breakers come rolling in,
+flinging their white spray in clouds as they broke.</p>
+
+<p>Jael knew about the tides as well as any fisherman on the coast, so
+there was no danger of the children being caught by the rising water at
+any time, and Peter never felt uneasy about them. Often they would be
+out for hours, running about and playing, then coming home with rosy
+checks and bright eyes, all the rosier and the brighter for the brisk
+healthful exercise in the strong salt wind.</p>
+
+<p>But one day Jael and Mo had wandered away farther than usual, a long
+distance beyond Orlmuck, to quite a lonely part of the coast. Jael had
+heard that there were caves somewhere there, and her curiosity and love
+of adventure had been strongly excited. It was rather a long walk for
+Mo, but Jael carried him on her back when he complained of being weary,
+and now they stood close by the rocky cliff where the caves were said
+to be.</p>
+
+<p>Poking and peering into all the corners and holes, at last Jael gave a
+cry of triumph and delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah! Here it is, Mo! Here's a real live cave at last!"</p>
+
+<p>And she went a few steps in, leading the child by the hand. But it
+was rather dark, and Mo was frightened and began to cry, and so, very
+unwillingly, Jael turned and came out, as the child would not wait for
+her alone outside. However, it was just as well that she did so, for
+she found that the tide was rising, and that they would on this account
+have had but few spare minutes for exploring the cave.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly they set out towards home. Mo was tired and did not chatter
+incessantly as usual, and Jael was left very much to her own thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>The discovery of the cave had recalled to her memory all the stories
+about caves that she had either read or heard, and she longed to know
+more about the one she had just discovered. Why, the Bible itself spoke
+of caves! Did not David and his followers hide in caves when pursued
+by Saul? Did not Obadiah hide those fifty prophets in a cave during
+the persecutions of weak, wicked Ahab and his cruel wife? Had not her
+father told her of the people of God in later days, who hid themselves
+in caves and holes of the earth that there they might worship in their
+own way?</p>
+
+<p>And, indeed, there were some strange stories told about the caves upon
+this very coast. Years ago smugglers made use of them for storing their
+ill-gotten wealth, and not so very long since, some treasure had been
+found in a cave—treasure which must have belonged to those long dead.</p>
+
+<p>Altogether there was a mysterious interest surrounding caves in
+general, and it had long been Jael's wish to discover one, penetrate to
+its darkest corners, and see if she too could not find some treasure
+which should make the family rich all their lives.</p>
+
+<p>Not that she wanted to be rich so far as she herself was concerned,
+for she was a contented child enough, and quite satisfied with her lot
+in life, but she had formed great plans for Moses, and had made up her
+mind that he must grow up to be a great and clever man, and do some
+grand work like the leader and lawgiver of old. Of course the little
+girl was rather misty in her ideas about Mo's future, but she liked to
+think that her boy was destined for a noble and useful life, and she
+wished she had plenty of money, so that as he grew older, he might go
+to good schools, and see the world, and learn a great deal, and fit
+himself for what might be.</p>
+
+<p>Jael's mind was full of all this as she led the little one home that
+winter afternoon. They had gone about half the distance, and Jael was
+just calculating how long it would take for the tide to get up to the
+foot of the cliff, and whether it would be better to clamber up the
+sheep-path now, and walk homeward across the downs, or quicken their
+pace and keep to the shore,—when she saw a man coming towards them.</p>
+
+<p>As he drew nearer, she could see that he was rather tall with very
+long dark hair and a bushy black beard; but what was visible of his
+complexion was fair, and his eyes, Jael noticed, were of that bright
+blue which you sometimes see with golden hair and a very white skin.</p>
+
+<p>As he met the children, he stared at them so hard that Jael wondered.
+He was quite a stranger to her, and she could not understand why he
+should look at them so steadfastly. He had hardly gone two steps
+farther when he came back and overtook them, saying to Jael:</p>
+
+<p>"What is your name, little girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jael Jones, sir," replied Jael.</p>
+
+<p>The man did not speak like a common person, and though he was dressed
+in working-clothes, Jael could not help feeling that he was not in her
+father's station of life.</p>
+
+<p>"And this little fellow?" questioned the stranger, laying a hand on
+Mo's head, which was enveloped, cap and all, in a little shawl of
+Jael's, and showed only a pair of bright eyes and rosy cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"His name is Moses, sir. We live up there by the river, on the Flats.
+Father's a fisherman. But, please, sir, we mustn't stand talking,
+'cause we've not too much time to get home afore the tide rises, and
+father will be anxious."</p>
+
+<p>The man looked towards the sea.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said he, "it is coming up fast, and I've a long way to go still.
+Good-by, little people!" And off he strode, taking the way the children
+had just come, while Jael and Mo hurried on, managing to pass the last
+point of cliff before the water reached its foot.</p>
+
+<p>After that, they slackened their speed, and Jael carried Mo for some
+little distance across the Flats, reaching home just as the short
+winter twilight was deepening into night.</p>
+
+<p>At tea Jael told her father about the finding of the cave, and also how
+she and Mo had met a stranger, who had stopped to speak to them, and
+asked them who they were.</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a looking man?" questioned Peter, with a look of eager
+interest, which Jael could not understand.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, a tall man, father, with long black hair and a big beard, and
+such blue eyes; as blue, I do think, as little Mo's."</p>
+
+<p>"'Dark' hair and beard, you say, little daughter? 'Quite dark?' You're
+sure it wasn't curly light hair?"</p>
+
+<p>Jael laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"'Quite' sure, father," said she.</p>
+
+<p>"Was he a stranger, think you, Jael, or one of our village folk?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, a stranger, of course. But strangers 'does' come to Orlmuck
+sometimes, father."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, child, of course they does," replied Peter, and there the
+conversation dropped.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>But when the children had gone to bed, Catherine said to her husband,
+"I say, Peter, what made you so particular about knowing all Jael could
+tell you of that there man as the chicks met on the sands?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the truth is, wife," replied Peter, "they tell me at Orlmuck
+that the police is on the lookout for a man what is thought to be in
+hidin' somewhere in this neighbourhood."</p>
+
+<p>"In hidin'? Why, what has he done?"</p>
+
+<p>"They say he is one of two travellers for a London house of business,
+and that a while ago—I don't rightly know how—they made away with a
+lot of money as was to have been paid into the bank. One of them went
+off and got clear to America, but the other only reached some town
+about ten miles away from Orlmuck. They tracked him as far as this, but
+there they lost sight of him. Still they think he can't have got much
+farther, and certainly not by train anywheres, for all the stations has
+been telegraphed to, and he'd have been stopped afore now."</p>
+
+<p>"But sure you don't think, Peter, that that there man as the children
+met on the shore was him? Why, bless me! What he mightn't have done to
+them!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones.</p>
+
+<p>Peter smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"The man who would rob his master may yet not be the man' to hurt a
+child, especially as he couldn't hope to get anything by it," replied
+he. "But, Catherine, I don't think it was that man at all. The
+description of this fellow the police is after is that he's fair, very
+good looking, and gentlemanly, with golden curly hair, and a fair skin
+and a smooth face; and the party Jael met has dark hair and a great
+beard. Now ain't it on the face of it as the two men can't be the
+same?" And Mrs. Jones was obliged to confess that it certainly was.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>The children's holidays were in all three weeks, and more than a
+fortnight was already past. Jael knew that when the vacation was over
+she should not be able to gratify her great wish to explore the cave
+she had found. The days were very short now, and as she should always
+have lessons to prepare after dinner as soon as her holidays were over,
+the afternoon would be broken into, and she could not get back before
+dark, much less allow herself any time there for searching the holes
+and corners of that dark mysterious place.</p>
+
+<p>Again, she had made up her mind not to take Mo. The child had been
+frightened on the last occasion, and Jael was quite determined not to
+try him a second time.</p>
+
+<p>So, directly after the early dinner one forenoon, she sallied out with
+Mo, and took him to a neighbour's near, where he often went to play
+with a little boy about his own age.</p>
+
+<p>Then, with a box of matches and a piece of candle in her pocket, and
+her basket on her arm, intended for the carrying of what treasures
+she might find, away she went, her young nimble feet going dancing
+along the shore, swifter than the great sea waves that were ebbing
+and leaving foamy tracks on the yellow sands. Now that she had not Mo
+to consider, she could go quickly, and a walk of about an hour and
+a quarter brought her to the cave. She paused at the entrance and
+listened for a moment before going in, but she heard not a sound. Then
+in she stole, eager and curious, but not a bit frightened, conscious
+only of a pleasant mysterious feeling, as though she were on the eve of
+a discovery.</p>
+
+<p>She made a few steps forward, the light from the entrance being
+sufficient for her to see her way for a short distance. Another yard or
+two, and the darkness became such that she could not see an inch before
+her.</p>
+
+<p>To take out her matches and light her candle was the work of an
+instant, and holding it above her head, she looked round and saw that
+she was in a roomy cave, not very high but broad, and apparently
+extending farther into the rock. The sand under her feet was quite deep
+and dry, showing that the tide did not penetrate beyond the mouth of
+the cavern.</p>
+
+<p>"I will go on till I find the end of this cave," said Jael to herself.</p>
+
+<p>And still holding her light aloft, and treading cautiously, she
+advanced, step by step, till the walls began to narrow, and at last
+there was no possibility of advancing, except through a hole in the
+rock, just large enough to admit a full-grown person.</p>
+
+<p>It was not difficult for Jael to scramble through, and as she did
+so, and looked about her, she found herself in a spacious, vaulted
+rock-hall, far larger than the adjoining outer cave.</p>
+
+<p>She was moving on to examine a little more carefully her new
+surroundings, when suddenly her light was blown out from behind, and
+she felt herself pinioned by a pair of strong arms, while a voice said,
+sternly, "What are you about here? Speak quick, or it will be the worse
+for you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I came to see what the cave was like," replied Jael, trying to speak
+calmly, but with her heart thumping like a steam-engine.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you know there was a cave here? Who told you?" asked the voice
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"No one. I found it out myself the other day. I had heard folks say
+that there was caves along this coast, and I'd always wanted to find
+one, but I didn't come far last time, 'cause I'd Mo with me, and the
+tide was risin' beside; so I came by myself to-day to have another try.
+And please don't hold me so tight, sir, it hurts my arms, and I won't
+run away if you want to talk to me."</p>
+
+<p>Jael's courage had come back after the momentary shock and surprise.
+She felt, too, that the grasp on her arm relaxed at once at her
+request, and now she said, "May I please strike a match and light my
+candle again? It's very dark here."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I prefer to be in the dark," was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>There was something in the voice that sounded familiar to Jael, and she
+was trying to remember where she had heard it, when it flashed upon her
+all of a sudden.</p>
+
+<p>"Please sir," said she, "you're the gent as we met on the beach the
+other day."</p>
+
+<p>"Am I? Then you're Jael Jones."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you call me sir?" exclaimed the man, leaving go of Jael's arms
+and going a few paces off into the darkness. "If you remember me at
+all, you must recollect that I have the dress of a working man."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, but you don't talk like us common folk," replied Jael; "thy
+speech betrayeth thee."</p>
+
+<p>The man made no answer to this, but presently, after a pause, he said,
+"It's cold and damp here, I'll light a little fire now. I don't mind
+your seeing my face since you know me."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he passed Jael again in the darkness, and then she suddenly
+saw him down on his knees in a corner, blowing into flame some sparks
+that were smouldering among a heap of dry seaweed and driftwood, in a
+hollow of the rock which served him as a fireplace, while the smoke
+escaped through a little hole overhead. Fresh wood was added, and in a
+few minutes the whole blazed up bright and warm, shedding a cheerful
+glow round the dark cave, and shining full upon the singular face, the
+long black hair and beard of the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"He does not look at all happy," said Jael to herself, gazing into his
+blue eyes, which were heavy and dim to-day, looking almost as though
+they had been shedding tears.</p>
+
+<p>Forgetting the strangeness of her adventure, she found herself pitying
+this lonely, mysterious creature, who seemed so sad.</p>
+
+<p>"Why are you looking so steadfastly at me, little Jael?" asked he,
+after a moment or two, during which the spreading glow had illuminated
+her earnest face and eager, yet tender, pitiful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I was just thinking how miserable you looked," replied Jael. "Surely
+you haven't been living long in such a place as this?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a sound in the man's throat very like a sob. "Yes," said
+he, "I 'am' miserable, but it is not on account of living here. It is
+better for me just now to be alone and quiet till what I have to do is
+done."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" asked Jael.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I had better not tell you my story, child; you would not
+understand it, perhaps, or it would shock you, which would be worse. I
+am not a good man, Jael, and I have much to make me wretched, and there
+is no hope for me in this world or the next."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh please, sir, beggin' your pardon, but that can't be!" said the
+little girl. "Father says there ain't no one who mayn't hope for
+forgiveness and peace, however naughty he's been; and you knows the
+Bible says so too, 'cause Christ came not to call the righteous, but
+sinners, to repentance—that means not the folks as thinks themselves
+righteous, but the poor ones that feel their sin. And Jesus Himself
+said, 'I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me,' and of course,
+as we're all sinners, He meant us all—at least, so father says, and he
+never says nothing but the truth. But perhaps you know all this?"</p>
+
+<p>The stranger looked up and said, more to himself than to Jael, "Yes;
+that's what my Emily used to say, or like it. Ah, if I'd only listened
+to her years ago!"</p>
+
+<p>"Was Emily your sister?" asked Jael.</p>
+
+<p>"No; my wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you a wife?" and Jael put on an expression of wonder and interest.</p>
+
+<p>"I 'had,'" replied the man, "and she was born not far from Orlmuck, as
+I've often heard her say. We were very happy together at first, but I
+got into bad company a few years after we were married, and I left her.
+And I'm afraid I shall never see her nor the little one again, for when
+I went home to tell her I was sorry, and would never grieve her again,
+the lodgings were let to other people, and wife and child were gone, no
+one knew where. A few of the neighbours said that she was quite crazed,
+and did nothing but talk about getting back to the place where she was
+born, though the friends there who knew her as a baby were all dead
+and gone, and she hadn't a relative either. Your little Mo reminded me
+so of my boy, only my child was very thin and pale, like his mother,
+though his hair and eyes were like mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Mo's hair isn't a bit like yours," said Jael; "it is golden and curly,
+and yours is black and straight."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger started, put a hand to his head, then dropped it again and
+said, "To be sure! To be sure!"</p>
+
+<p>"But won't you please tell me why you're hiding away here?" asked Jael.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I am suspected of being a thief, Jael," replied the man, "and
+appearances are terribly against me, and I should perhaps be put in
+prison if I were found, and then I could not look for my lost wife and
+child."</p>
+
+<p>"But were you a thief really?" questioned Jael, her face showing that
+she hoped he was not.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I was foolish, and made a bad man my friend, and was led into
+all sorts of wickedness. But I did not take the money, or help him do
+it. But when I found I was likely to be arrested, I ran away and hid
+myself because I had heard that some one like my wife, with a child in
+her arms, had a few months ago been seen about Orlmuck, or near it,
+and I wanted to find out more about them. I knew it might be ever so
+long before I came upon their track if once the police got hold of me.
+This cave was known to me years ago, and I thought I should be safer
+here than in lodgings. I buy a little food now and then in the evening
+at the smallest shops in the village, and I go about from place to
+place making inquiries, but no one knows me, and you are the first
+person that has found me here. If I could only learn what has become
+of poor Emily and my little Cyril I should be content to give myself
+up to those who are looking for me, and not hide away as though I were
+guilty. But there, I did not intend to tell you my story, and yet I
+have done so. But you are only a child, and not cruel and unjust like
+the world; may I trust you not to betray me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I won't betray you," said Jael; "but mayn't I tell father?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not father, nor any one else," was the reply. "If you cannot keep
+my secret, I shall feel sorry I told you, and you will oblige me to
+leave this cave and seek a hiding-place elsewhere, and perhaps I shall
+be put in prison, and all through you."</p>
+
+<p>"I've never had a secret in my life afore," pleaded poor Jael; "and
+from father, too! Oh! It'll be too dreadful!"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help it," replied the stranger, his voice growing hard and
+harsh. "It was not my fault that you found me out in my hiding-place,
+and now I will not let you go until you promise me never to breathe a
+word about me to any one."</p>
+
+<p>As Jael still hesitated, the man's face lowered; his blue eyes looked
+sternly at her.</p>
+
+<p>"I always do as I say," he added. "Choose between staying here till the
+next low tide and promising to keep my secret."</p>
+
+<p>But just at that moment there was a strange confusion of noises in the
+outer cave—talking, shouting, and rapping of sticks against the rocky
+walls. The stranger started as a bright light gleamed through the
+narrow entrance to the second chamber.</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" he exclaimed. "They must have tracked me here after all!
+Ah, well! It must have come sooner or later."</p>
+
+<p>He drew himself up and walked a step or two as though to meet the
+new-comers as they came on, seeing the flicker of the fire, the smoke
+of which rising through the cliff above the cave, had confirmed
+previous suspicions and revealed the hiding-place.</p>
+
+<p>A constable advanced from the company and approached the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"Why! This is not our man," exclaimed he, staring at the dark-haired,
+bearded man before him, and then turning in dismay towards his
+companions; "this isn't golden curly hair, smooth face, gentlemanly
+dress and bearing. What mare's-nest have we come upon now?"</p>
+
+<p>But even while the constable spoke, another man advanced from the
+company. He was a detective police-officer, but in plain clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"We are not mistaken," said he, quietly. "Bid him pull off that hair
+and beard."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, if that's all, I'll save him the trouble," replied the constable,
+and striding up he made a sudden snatch at the dark beard and mass of
+hair.</p>
+
+<p>To Jael's surprise and horror she saw it come off bodily, and leave,
+before her astonished eyes, another man behind it. There stood a very
+handsome but rather youthful-looking fellow, with crisp, short golden
+curls all over his well-shaped head, and his face fresh-coloured and
+smooth as a girl's.</p>
+
+<p>The next minute the child sank down on the floor of the cave and
+buried her face in her hands. She forgot the policeman, she forgot the
+stranger, she forgot where she was. In that one moment a terrible truth
+had come upon her like a lightning flash. Child though she was, we have
+seen that her perceptions were keen, and now she knew—knew as well as
+though an angel had declared it in her hearing—that her little Mo, the
+child whom she had found, whom she so loved and cherished, and had
+prized as God's gift to her, was this man's lost boy. There could be no
+mistake about it. Even her young eyes could not but see the striking
+likeness between father and son. The same clear, white skin, the same
+brilliant blue eyes, the same crisp rings of golden hair.</p>
+
+<p>Jael heard not the talk that passed between the prisoner and his
+captors. She had been in a dark corner, too, and had been unobserved,
+and thus unnoticed, and herself seeing nothing, she knew not when the
+party left the cave, nor heard the noise of their voices and footsteps
+gradually dying away.</p>
+
+<p>She was fairly crushed, poor child, with the one absorbing thought that
+her Mo was hers no longer, and would have to be given up to his father.</p>
+
+<p>She sobbed and cried as she considered what it would be to live without
+him. Never to kiss that dear, sunny little face, never to arrange those
+silky golden curls, or feel those soft arms round her neck, or hear the
+little plaintive voice, "Jai, Jai, tum to Mo." Oh, "must" she give him
+up? Could even his father love him as she did?</p>
+
+<p>And then a temptation, a very real and terrible one for the little
+girl, presented itself before her. Did any one know of this besides
+herself? The stranger, when she and Mo had met him upon the sands, had
+failed to recognise his own child. Need she speak the whole truth? Need
+she say the words that would separate her from her treasure, perhaps
+for ever? It lay in her own power, in her own hands, whether to keep or
+lose him; and after all, she would have to tell no lies. She would only
+need to keep back the truth—in short, to keep a secret. And yet how
+could she hide it from her father?—her upright, truthful, God-fearing
+father, from whom, as she had told the stranger, she had never had a
+secret in her life? Still, except for her own feelings, it would not be
+so very difficult. She was not obliged to say where she had been that
+day, or even if she spoke of the cave, she need not tell Peter whom she
+had met there, and what had happened in her presence.</p>
+
+<p>The little boy, she reflected, would be no better off if given up to
+his father, and no one need ever know that the child was his. It was
+all plain enough; she had nothing to do but keep quiet and let things
+be as they were.</p>
+
+<p>But Jael's was not a hardened conscience, and though the temptation
+came before her in glowing colours, like a fair, bright picture, there
+came also the warning voice which the Great Father puts into every
+heart to tell of danger at hand and rouse the soul to watchfulness and
+resistance.</p>
+
+<p>Little Jael knew she was wrong. She felt the force of the temptation,
+and felt, too, how weak she was, and she did the best thing that she
+or any other Christian could have done at such a time, for she knelt
+down and prayed earnestly that God would show her very plainly what was
+right, and help her to do it. And when the prayer was ended, Jael had
+resolved what she would do, for she felt that whatever happened, she
+could not bear to carry about with her a secret such as this, or to
+keep the truth from that loving, tender father of hers.</p>
+
+<p>Jael's mind was full of strange thoughts as she walked homeward along
+the beach. She felt as if she were making a great sacrifice for the
+sake of right. She thought of Abraham, and of his wonderful obedience
+and faith, and she tried to think that if she imitated his example God
+would, perhaps, in some way she could not see now, give her back her
+little Mo.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Jael did not reach home until half-past five, and her father and mother
+and Mo were seated at tea.</p>
+
+<p>The little fellow held out his arms with a cry of delight as the girl
+entered, and the sight of his bright, sweet face was too much for poor
+Jael after all she had gone through. Clasping the child in her arms, as
+he sat at table in his high chair, she burst out sobbing,—</p>
+
+<p>"How can I let you go, darlin', O darlin'? O my little Mo, my little
+Mo! God can't be so unkind as to take you away from me."</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness gracious! The child's gone clean out of her mind!" exclaimed
+Catherine. Then in a sharper, louder voice, "What ails you, ye silly
+girl? Was there ever a mother bothered with such a only daughter as
+mine!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, wife," said Peter, gently; "there's more in this than we can
+see yet. Don't let us be the ones to break the bruised reed or quench
+smoking flax. The child's in trouble. Come to father, Jael, and tell
+him all about it."</p>
+
+<p>Then Jael, throwing herself into her father's arms, told him the whole
+story, keeping back nothing, though she was often obliged to stop
+in the recital, for her tears would flow in spite of her efforts to
+control them.</p>
+
+<p>But it was some comfort when she finished at last to have her father
+caress her fondly, and to hear him say, "Bless you, my dear brave
+little daughter! Even a child is known by his doings, whether they be
+pure and whether they be right; and God's children need not fear to
+take all that He sends them, if but they try to know His will and to do
+it. Seek ye 'first' the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all
+these things shall be added unto you."</p>
+
+<p>"And will He add unto me my little Mo?" questioned Jael, lifting her
+tearful eyes to Peter's face.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, child; but this I 'do' know, that we may safely trust
+Him to give what is best for you and for us all. The love that withheld
+not His only begotten and well-beloved Son from death for our sake will
+surely not keep back any lesser gift that's good for us. Trust Him,
+Jael! Only trust Him!"</p>
+
+<p>And Jael trusted.</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>Time went on. The story of Edwin Garston's arrest had been on every
+one's lips. During his trial, his sad story, too, had come out in the
+account of why he had hidden himself. Then people put two and two
+together, and concluded that the dead body found months ago must have
+been that of poor Emily Garston, who, deserted by her husband as she
+thought for ever, had lost her senses and destroyed herself.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, the fact of there having been a child lost, too, made every
+one pretty sure that the little one picked up by Jael and adopted by
+Bible Jones the fisherman must be the little Cyril, though at the time
+that the body of the woman was found, there had been no clue to her
+name, nor anything to make a connecting link between her and the baby.</p>
+
+<p>The trial was over at last, and the prisoner acquitted. Ere this,
+however, Peter had written to him, and had given him some particulars
+relative to the finding of the child, and of the prevailing feeling at
+Orlmuck that the drowned woman was the little fellow's mother.</p>
+
+<p>The first visit that Edwin Garston paid after his release was to the
+cottage of the fisherman, and one look at father and son together would
+have convinced anybody of the relationship between them, for little Mo
+was just the image of the stranger who had been so rudely robbed of his
+disguise before Jael's astonished eyes in the cave that day. His visit
+was a sore trial to Jael, for the poor child was in fear and trembling,
+and could hardly help bursting into tears when the newly-found father
+took the little fellow in his arms, and called him his own Cyril, all
+he had left in the world now.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to have a few minutes' chat with you, please sir," said
+Peter, when Edwin Garston had somewhat recovered from the excitement
+natural to such an occasion as the present. "If you wouldn't mind going
+outside with me, there's something as would be the better of being
+settled soon."</p>
+
+<p>Jael never knew just what passed between her father and his visitor,
+but when they came in again, Peter called her and said, "Jael, my
+girl, this gentleman wants to begin life again over in America, and it
+wouldn't be well for him to take the boy so far, and he's been good
+enough to say as he'll trust him with us for the present till he can
+make some different arrangements."</p>
+
+<p>We need hardly say that Jael was radiant with delight, and even
+Catherine was much pleased when she heard that little Mo was to
+remain at the cottage. Her advice to her husband that evening when
+Jael came home and told of her adventure in the cave had been to
+keep it all quiet and say nothing about it, but now she was fain to
+acknowledge that the straightforward, honest way was the best, and that
+her husband's study of God's Word had taught him wisdom as well as
+uprightness.</p>
+
+<p>Before Edwin Garston sailed for America, he called at the cottage one
+day and asked Jael if she "remembered their talk in the cave?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," replied Jael, "I remember it very well indeed."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you may recollect saying that there was no one who might not hope
+for forgiveness, because Christ came to call sinners to repentance."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, I remember; it's all quite true, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Your words have never left me. My heart was very despairing and dark,
+and what you said gave me the first ray of hope and light, and since
+then I have been reading and praying for myself. Dear little girl, if I
+become a Christian, it will be by God's mercy in directing you to me,
+and in so filling your heart with the truths of His Word that you were
+enabled to impart them to one in such need of help and cheering. I feel
+very happy in leaving my little son with you, Jael, for, child though
+you are, you may be taught of God, and in your turn can teach Cyril.
+May the Great Father, whom I am just learning to know and love, have
+you both in His holy keeping!"</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>This was Edwin Garston's farewell visit, and he sailed the day after.
+It is not our intention to follow him into his new life; let us rather
+look forward a few years, and tell our readers that when he came back,
+a prosperous man, it was to find Jael grown into a blooming girl of
+fourteen, and little Cyril—or Mo, as he preferred to be called—a fine
+boy of seven, who was getting on splendidly at school, and was still
+the pride and delight of Jael's heart. Peter and Catherine looked
+somewhat older, of course, and the latter was a little infirm, but she
+had improved in character, and the little home was more peaceful and
+pleasant than ever.</p>
+
+<p>Peter had suffered a good deal of late from rheumatism, and now Edwin
+insisted upon his giving up his hard work of fisherman—or, as he called
+it, retiring from business.</p>
+
+<p>"God has prospered me, dear old friend," said the young man when
+Peter tried to object, "and now you must let me be like a son to you.
+Whatever I may be permitted to do, I could never repay a tenth of what
+you have done for me and my boy."</p>
+
+<p>So it was settled that all should live together, and Edwin Garston took
+a house at some distance from Orlmuck, and near a large town, where
+there were good schools, and to these he sent both Jael and Cyril. And
+in the evenings, could you but have looked in at the windows, you might
+have seen Edwin Garston helping his son with his lessons for next day,
+and Jael, too, with her earnest face bent over her books.</p>
+
+<p>Old Peter sits in the chimney corner, with his big Bible open on his
+knee, and Catherine opposite him with her knitting.</p>
+
+<p>Let us lean over old Peter's shoulder and see upon what his eyes are
+dwelling so intently. Ah! There are the words:</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of
+the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the
+commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the
+Lord are true and righteous altogether."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+—————————————————————————<br>
+R. K. BURT AND CO., PRINTERS, WINE OFFICE COURT, E.C.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77390 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+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
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+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #77390
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77390)