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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/9940-8.txt b/9940-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ed63ab --- /dev/null +++ b/9940-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4912 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Life in London + +Author: Edwin Hodder + +Posting Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #9940] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: November 2, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE IN LONDON *** + + + + +Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + + +LIFE IN LONDON + +OR, THE PITFALLS OF A GREAT CITY + +BY EDWIN HODDER, ESQ. + +1890. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + I. THE INTRODUCTION + + II. SCHOOL-BOY DAYS + + III. STARTING WELL + + IV. MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW + + V. A FARCE + + VI. THE LECTURE + + VII. GETTING ON IN THE WORLD + +VIII. A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP + + IX. IN EXILE + + X. MAKING DISCOVERIES + + XI. THE SICK CHAMBER + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE INTRODUCTION. + + +Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street in +Islington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience, +until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon the +panels. + +"Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as he +hurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron on +and sleeves tucked up, was busy in her domestic affairs. "Such splendid +news!" repeated George. "I have been down to Mr. Compton's with the +letter Uncle Henry gave me, in which he said I wanted a situation, and +should be glad if Mr. Compton could help me; and, sure enough, I was +able to see him, and he is such a kind, fatherly old gentlemen, mother. +I am sure I shall like him." + +"Well, George, and what did he say!" + +"Oh! I've got ever so much to tell you, before I come to that part. The +office, you know, is in Falcon Court, Fleet Street; such a dismal place, +with the houses all crammed together, and a little space in front, not +more than large enough to turn a baker's bread-truck in. All the windows +are of ground glass, as if the people inside were too busy to see out, +or to be seen; and on every door there are lots of names of people who +have their offices there, and some of them are actually right up at the +top storeys of the houses. Well, I found out the name of Mr. Compton, +and I tapped at a door where 'Clerk's Office' was written. I think I +ought not to have tapped, but to have gone in, for somebody said rather +sharply, 'Come in,' and in I went. An old gentleman was standing beside +a sort of counter, with a lot of heavy books on it, and he asked me what +I wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Compton, and had got a letter for +him. He told me to sit down until Mr. Compton was disengaged, and then +he would see me." + +"And what sort of an office was it, George? And who was the old +gentleman? The manager, I suppose!" + +"I think he was, because he seemed to do as he liked, and all the clerks +talked in a whisper while he was there. I had to wait more than +half-an-hour, and I was able to look round and see all that was going +on. It is a large office, and there were ten clerks seated on +uncomfortable high stools, without backs, poring over books and papers. +I don't think I shall like those clerks, they stared at me so rudely, +and I felt so ashamed, because one looked hard at me, and then whispered +to another: and I believe they were saying something about my boots, +which you know, mother, are terribly down at heel, and so I put one foot +over the other, to try and hide them." + +"There was no need of that, George. It did not alter the fact that they +were down at heel; and there is no disgrace in being clothed only as +respectable as we can afford, is there?" + +"Not a bit, mother: and I feel so vexed with myself because I knew I +turned red, which made the two clerks smile. But I must go on telling +you what else I saw. The old gentleman seems quite a character--he is +nearly bald, has got no whiskers, wears a big white neckcloth and a tail +coat, and takes snuff every five minutes out of a silver box. Whether he +knows it or not, the clerks are very rude to him: for when he took +snuff, one of them sneezed, or pretended to sneeze, every time, and +another snuffled, as if he were taking snuff too." + +"That certainly does not speak well for the clerks," said Mrs. Weston. +"Old gentlemen do have peculiar ways sometimes, but it is not right for +young people to ridicule them." + +"No, it is not; and I don't like to see people do a thing behind another +one's back they are afraid to do before his face. When the clerks had to +speak to the old gentleman, they were as civil as possible, and said, +'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' to him so meekly, as if they were quite +afraid of him; but after a little while, when he took up his hat and +went out, they all began talking and laughing out loud, although when he +was there, they had only occasionally spoken in low whispers. There was +only one young man, out of the whole lot, who did not join with them, +but kept at his work; and I thought if I got a situation in that office, +I should try and make friends with him." + +"That's right, George. I would rather you should not have a situation at +all, than get mixed up with bad companions. But go on, I am so anxious +to hear what Mr. Compton said." + +"Well, after half-an-hour, I heard a door in the next room close, and a +table-bell touched, and then the old gentleman, who had by this time +returned, went in Presently he came out again, and said Mr. Compton +would see me. Oh, mother! I felt so funny, you don't know. My mouth got +quite dry, my face flushed, and I couldn't think whatever I should say, +I felt just as I did that day at the school examination, when I had to +make one of the prize speeches. But I got all to rights directly I saw +Mr. Compton. He said, 'Good morning to you--be seated,' in such a nice +way, that I felt at home with him at once." + +"And what did you say to him, George?" + +"I had learnt by heart what I was going to say, but in the hurry I had +forgotten every word. So I said, 'My name is--' (it's a wonder I did not +say Norval, for I felt a bit bewildered at the sound of my own voice) +'--my name is George Weston, sir, and I have brought you a letter from +my uncle, Mr. Henry Brunton, who knows you, I think.' 'Oh! yes," he +said, 'he knows me very well; and, if I mistake not, this letter is +about you, for he was talking to me about a nephew the other day.' Isn't +that just like Uncle Henry?--he never said anything about that to us, +but he is so good and kind, we are always finding out some of his +generous actions, about which he never speaks. While Mr. Compton was +reading the letter, I had leisure to look at him, and at his room. He is +such a fine-looking old man, just like that picture we saw in the +Academy, last year, of the village squire. He looks as if he were very +benevolent and kind-hearted, and he dresses just like some of the +country gentlemen, with a dark green coat and velvet collar, a frill +shirt, and a little bit of buf. waistcoat seen under his coat, which he +keeps buttoned. He had got lots of books, and papers, and files about, +and sat hi an arm-chair so cosily--in fact, I should not have thought +that nice carpeted room was really an office, if it had not been for the +ground-glass windows. Just as I was thinking why it was the glorious +sunshine is not admitted into offices, Mr. Compton said--" + +"What did he say, George? I have waited so patiently to hear." + +"He said, 'Well, _Mr_. Weston,'--(he did really call me Mr. Weston, +mother; I suppose he took me for a young man: it is evident he did not +know I was wearing a stick-up shirt collar for the first time in my +life)--'I have read this letter, and am inclined to think I may be able +to do something for you.' That put my 'spirits up,' as poor father used +to say; and I said, 'I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.' So then he told me +that he wanted a junior clerk in his office, who could write quickly, be +brisk at accounts, and make himself generally useful, as the +advertisements in the _Times_ say. I told him I could do all these +things; and he passed me a sheet of paper, to give him a specimen of my +handwriting. I hardly knew what to write, but I fixed upon a passage of +Scripture, 'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the +Lord.' My hand was so shaky, that all the letters with tails to them had +the queerest flourishes you ever saw. Mr. Compton smiled when I handed +him the sheet of paper--I don't know whether it was at the writing, or +at the quotation, and I wished I had written a passage from Seneca +instead!" + +"You did not feel ashamed at having written a part of God's word, did +you, George?" + +"No, not ashamed, mother; but I thought it was not business-like, and +seemed too much like a schoolboy." + +"I think it was very business-like. It would convey the idea that you +would seek to do your business from the best and highest motives. But +what did Mr. Compton say?" + +"He only said he thought the handwriting was good. Then he told me that +he would take me as his clerk, and should expect me to be at my post +next Monday morning, at nine o'clock. 'And now,' he said, 'we must fix +upon a salary; and as your uncle has told me that you are anxious to +maintain yourself, I will give you a weekly sum sufficient for that +purpose; and if you give me satisfaction, I will raise it yearly.' And +what do you think he offered me, mother?" + +"I really do not know; perhaps, as you are young, and have never been in +a situation before, he said five shillings a week, although I did not +think you would get any salary at all for the first six months." + +"No, mother, more than five shillings; guess again," said George, his +face shining with excited delight. + +"Then I will guess seven and sixpence a week," said his mother, +doubtfully, for she thought she had gone too high. + +"More than that, mother; guess only once more, for I cannot keep it in +if you are not very quick." + +"Then I shall say ten shillings a week, George; but I am afraid I have +guessed too much." + +"No, mother, under the mark again. I am to have ten shillings and +sixpence--half a guinea a week! Isn't that splendid? Only fancy, Mr. +George Weston, Junior Clerk to Mr. Compton, at half-a-guinea a week! My +fortune is made; and, depend upon it, mother, we shall get on in the +world now, first-rate. Why, I shall only want--say, half-a-crown a week +for myself, and then there will be all the rest for you. Now don't you +think blind-eyed Fortune must have dropped her bandage this morning, and +have spied me out?" + +"No, George; but I think that kind Providence; which has always smiled +upon us when we have been in the greatest difficulties, has once more +shown us that all our ways are in the hands of One who doeth all things +well." + +"So do I, mother; and I do hope that this success, which has attended my +journey this morning, may turn out to our real good. I feel it will--we +shall be able to go on now so swimmingly, and I shall be getting a +footing in the world, so that by-and-bye we shan't have a single debt, +or a single care, and you will be growing younger as fast as I grow +older: and then, after a time, we will get a little house in the +country, and finish up our days the happiest couple in the British +dominions." + +For the remainder of that day, poor George was in a regular whirl of +excitement. A thousand schemes were afloat in his mind about the future, +of the most improbable kind. His income of half-a-guinea a week was to +do wonders, which were never accomplished by half a score of guineas. +He speculated about the rise in his salary at the end of the year, which +he was determined, if it rested upon his own industry, should not be +less than a pound a week; and then he forgot the first year, and +commenced calculating what he could do, with his increased salary, till, +at last, worn out with scheming, he said,-- + +"Money is a great bother, after all, mother. I've been calculating all +this day how we can spend my salary; and I am really more perplexed than +if Mr. Compton had said I should not have anything for the first six +months. I can't make ends meet if I attempt to do what I have planned, +that's very certain; so I shall quietly wait till the first Saturday +night comes, and I feel the half-guinea in my hand, and then I shall +better realize what it is worth." + +That was a pleasant evening Mrs. Weston and George spent together in +discussing the events of the day, and when it became time to separate +for the night, she said-- + +"This is one of the happiest days we have spent for a long time, George. +How your poor father would have enjoyed sharing it with us!" and the +widow sighed. + +"Mother," said George, "I have thought of poor father so many times +to-day, and I have formed a resolution which I mean to try and keep. He +was a good man. I don't think he ever did anything really wrong--and I +recollect so well what he used to tell me, when I was a boy"--(George +had jumped into manhood in a day, he fancied)--"I mean to take him for a +model; and if I find myself placed in dangers and difficulties, I shall +always ask myself, 'What would father have done if he had been in this +case?' and then I should try and do as he would." + +"May you have strength given to you, my deal boy, to carry out every +good resolution! But remember, there is a model which must be taken even +before that of your father. I mean the pure, sinless example of our +Lord; follow this, and adhere to the plain directions of God's word, and +you cannot go wrong. And now, good night; God bless you, my son!" + +It was a long time before George went to sleep; again and again the +events of the day came to his memory, and he travelled in thought far +into the future, peering through the mist which hung over unborn time, +and weighing circumstances which might never have a being. + +"I shall be quite accustomed to my duties by next Monday," he said to +his mother in the morning; "for I was all night long busy in the office, +counting money, posting books, and when I awoke I was just signing a +deed of partnership in the name of Compton and Weston." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SCHOOL-BOY DAYS. + + +George Weston was an only son, and, at the time our story commences, was +nearly seventeen years of age. His early years had been spent at home, +under the watchful care of kind and good parents. When he was ten years +old he was sent to a boarding school at Folkestone, and placed in the +charge of Dr. Seaward, a good man, who superintended his education, and, +besides imparting secular instruction, endeavoured to train his +character and make him good as well as clever. George was a sharp, +shrewd boy, a keen observer, who would know the why and the wherefore of +everything, and his lessons always came to him more as an amusement than +a task. He had a horror of being low down in his class, and if he did +not retain his place at the top, it was rarely through inattention or +want of study on his part. + +George was a great favourite with the whole school; he was a merry, +joyous fellow, who always had sunshine in his face and a kind word on +his lips; a ringleader in any harmless fun, and a champion on the side +of all the younger boys who met with oppression or injustice from the +elder classes. At cricket or football, swimming or boating, George had +few superiors; and as he was one of those boys who seem determined, +whatever they do, to do it with all their might, he went heart and soul +into all the spoils with such a zest and earnestness that he acquired +the name of the "Indefatigable." Nor did this name merely apply to his +zeal in sports. There was not in the whole school a more diligent +student than George: there was for him "a time to work and a time to +play," and he never allowed one to trespass upon the other. He would +rather go without a game at cricket for a fortnight than be behindhand +in one of his lessons. The boys would laugh at him for this, but George +could bear to be laughed at on such points, because he knew he was in +the right. "I came to school to learn," he would say, "and I don't see +any fun in making my parents pay heavy fees for me every year to play +cricket at the expense of study." Every boy knew there was wisdom in +this, and they secretly admired George for it, although it condemned +their own conduct, more especially when they had to go to him not +unfrequently, and say, "Weston, I shall get in a scrape with these +lessons to-morrow, unless you can help me a bit with them. Do give me a +leg up, that's a good fellow!" and though George never said "No," he did +sometimes take an opportunity to say, "If you did not waste so much time +in play, you might be independent of any help that I can give." + +It was a source of great pleasure to his parents to hear from time to +time, through Dr. Seaward, some good account of his conduct; and when he +returned home at the holiday seasons, generally laden with prizes which +he had victoriously borne off, they did not feel a little proud of their +only son. + +George remained at the school at Folkestone for five years, during which +time he rose from the lowest to the highest form. It was the intention +of his parents then to place him in a college for a year or two, in +order to give him in opportunity to complete his education, and have the +means to make a good start in life. But this purpose was frustrated by +an event which happened only a month before George was to have been +removed. + +One day, when all the boys were out in the playfield, busily engaged in +marking out boundaries for a game at hockey, Dr. Seaward was seen coming +from the house towards the field. This was an unusual event, as he +rarely interfered with them during play hours. "Something's up," said +the boys; and waited expectantly until the Doctor came up to them. + +"Call George Weston," said he; "I want to speak to him." + +"Weston! George Weston!" shouted one or two at once; and George came +running up, nothing abashed, for he knew he had done nothing wrong. + +"George," said the Doctor, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to +come with me; I have something to tell you;" and they walked together +away from the field. + +"What is it, sir? You look pained: I hope I have done nothing to offend +you?" + +"No, George," replied the Doctor; "few lads have ever given me so little +cause of offence at any time as you have. But I _am_ pained. I have some +sad news to tell you." + +"Sad news for me, sir? Oh, do tell me at once. Is anything the matter at +home?" + +"Yes, George; a messenger has just arrived to say that your father has +met with a serious accident; he has been thrown from his chaise, and is +much hurt. The messenger is your uncle, Mr. Brunton; and he desires you +to return at once to London with him." + +George waited to hear no more; he bounded away from the Doctor, cleared +the fence which enclosed the garden at a leap, and rushed into the room +where Mr. Brunton was anxiously awaiting him. No tear stood in his eye; +but he was dreadfully pale, and his hands trembled like aspen leaves. +"Oh, uncle!" was all he could say; and, throwing himself into a chair, +he covered his face with his hands. + +"Come, George, my boy," said Mr. Brunton, tenderly; "do not give way to +distress. Your poor father is seriously hurt, but he is yet alive. We +have just half an hour to catch the train." + +That was enough for George; in a moment he was calm and collected, ran +up to his room to make a few hasty arrangements, and in five minutes was +again with his uncle prepared for the journey. + +"Good-bye, Dr. Seaward," he said as he left the house. + +"God bless you, my young friend," said the kind-hearted Doctor; "and +grant that you may find His providence better than your fears." + +George thought he had never known the train go so slowly as it did +during that long, wearisome journey to London. At last it arrived at +the terminus, and then, jumping into a cab, they were hurried away +towards Stamford Hill as quickly as the horse could travel. + +"Now, George," said Mr. Brunton, as they came near their journey's end, +"we know not what may have happened while we have been coming here. Be a +man, and recollect there is one who suffers more than you." + +"Do not fear, uncle. I will not add to my mother's grief," was all he +could reply. + +We will not pry into that interview between mother and son when they +first met; there is a grief too solemn for a stranger's eye. + +Mr. Weston was still alive, and that was all that could be said. The +doctors had pronounced his case beyond human skill, and had intimated +that there were but a few hours for him on earth. + +As George stood beside the bed of his dying father, the tears which had +been long pent up came pouring thick and fast down his cheek. + +"Don't give way to sorrow, George," said his father, in a low voice, for +he had difficulty in speaking; "it will be only a little while before we +meet again; for what is life but a vapour, which soon vanisheth away?" + +"Oh, father, it is so sudden, so sudden!" sobbed George. + +"Therefore, my boy, remember that at all times there is but a step +between us and death; and if for us to live is Christ, then to die is +gain. Make that your motto through life, my dear boy, 'For me to live is +Christ.'" + +That night the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken, and +the spirit of Mr. Weston returned to God who gave it. "Precious in the +eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints." + +Never did a mother more realize the joy of possessing the unbounded love +of an affectionate son, than did Mrs. Weston during those melancholy +days between the death and the funeral of her husband, "Cheer up, dear +mother," he would say; "God is the father of the fatherless, and the +husband of the widow, and did not _He_ say 'to die is gain'?" + +George and Mr. Brunton followed the remains of the good man to their +last resting-place; and then the body was lowered to the grave "in the +sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection." + +Mr. Weston had not been a rich man, nor had he been a far-seeing, +provident man. He had moved in comfortable circumstances, with an income +only sufficient to pay his way in the world, and had made but scanty +provision for the future. At the time of his sudden death, his affairs +were in anything but a satisfactory state; and it was found that it +would be impossible for his widow to live in the same comfortable style +she had formerly done. + +After all his accounts were wound up, it was seen that she would only +have a sufficient sum of money, even if invested in the best possible +manner, to keep her in humble circumstances. She determined therefore to +leave her house at Stamford Hill, and take a smaller one in Islington, +and let some of the rooms to boarders. + +Mr. Brunton acted the part of a kind brother in all her difficulties; he +was never wearied in advising her, and on him principally devolved all +the necessary arrangements for her removal. Everything he did was with +such delicacy and refinement that, although his hand was daily and +hourly felt, it was never seen. + +One evening, shortly before leaving the locality in which they had lived +so many years, George and his mother walked together to the cemetery +where Mr. Weston had been buried, to pay a farewell visit to that +hallowed spot. They had been too much reduced in circumstances to have a +stone placed over the grave where he lay, and they were talking about it +as they journeyed along, saying, how the very first money they could +afford should be expended for that purpose. What was their surprise to +find a handsome stone raised above the spot, bearing these words:-- + + _Sacred to the Memory of_ + MR. GEORGE WESTON, + Who departed this life, Feb. 18th, 18--, aged 46 years. + + * * * * * + + "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." + +Tears of grateful joy stood in their eyes as they recognized another +token of the kind, tender love of Mr. Brunton. + +The bereavement and change of fortune were borne by the widow with that +fortitude which is only shown by the true Christian. It was hard, very +hard, to begin the world again; to be denied the pleasure of allowing +George to go to college and complete his studies; and to bear the +struggles and inconveniences of poverty. But Mrs. Weston knew that vain +regrets would never alter the case; the Lord had given, the Lord had +taken away, and from her heart she could say cheerfully, "Blessed be +the name of the Lord." + +George had not been idle. Every hour in which he was not occupied for or +with his mother, he was diligently engaged in prosecuting his studies, +and preparing himself for the time when he should be able to procure a +situation. Mr. Brunton had not been anxious for him to enter upon one at +once; he knew how lonely the widow would be without her son, and +therefore he did not take any steps to obtain for George a situation. +But when a twelvemonth had passed, and the keenness of sorrow had worn +off, he mentioned the matter to his friend Mr. Compton; with what +success we have seen in the first chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +STARTING WELL. + + +Never did days drag along more heavily than those which elapsed between +the interview with Mr. Compton, and the morning when George was to enter +upon his new duties. Every day the office was a subject of much +conversation; and neither George nor his mother ever seemed to weary in +talking over his plans and purposes. George wrote a long letter to Mr. +Brunton, telling him of the successful issue of his application to Mr. +Compton, and thanking him in the most hearty way for all his kindness. +The next day Mr. Brunton replied to George's letter as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR NEPHEW, + + "I am delighted to hear that you have obtained an appointment, and + that you seem so well satisfied with your prospects. May you find it + to be for your good in every way. Remember, you are going into new + scenes, and will be surrounded with many dangers and temptations to + which you have hitherto been a stranger. Seek to be strong against + everything that is evil; aim at the highest mark, and press towards + it. Much of your future depends upon how you begin--therefore begin + well; hold yourself aloof from everything with which your conscience + tells you you should not be associated, and then all your bright + dreams may, I hope, be fully realized. + + "I shall hope to be with you for an hour or two on Sunday evening. + + "You will have some unavoidable expenses to incur before entering + upon your duties, and will require a little pocket-money. Accept the + enclosed cheque, with the love of + + "Your affectionate Uncle, + + "HENRY BRUNTON." + +George's eyes sparkled with delight as he read the letter; and found the +enclosure to be a cheque for five pounds. This was a great treasure and +relief to him, for he had thought many times about his boots, which were +down at heel, and his best coat, which shone a good deal about the +elbows, and showed symptoms of decay in the neighbourhood of the +button-holes. + +A new suit of clothes and a pair of boots were therefore purchased at +once, and when Sunday morning came, and George dressed himself in them, +and stood ready to accompany his mother to the house of God, she thought +(although, of course, she did not say so) that she had never seen a more +handsome and gentlemanly-looking youth than her son. + +"Mother," said George, as they walked along, "what a treat the Sunday +will always be now, after being pent up in the office all the week. I +shall look forward to it with such pleasure, not only for the sake of +its rest, but because I shall have a whole day with you." + +"The Sabbath is, indeed, a boon," replied Mrs. Weston, "when it is made +a rest-day for the soul, as well as for the body. You remember those +lines I taught you, when you were quite another fellow, before you went +to school, do you not?-- + + "'A Sunday well spent brings a week of content + And health for the toils of the morrow; + But a Sabbath profaned, whatsoe'er may be gained, + Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'" + +"Yes, mother, I remember them; and capital lines they are. Dr. Seaward +once said, 'Strike the key-note of your tune incorrectly, and the whole +song will be inharmonious;' so, if the Sabbath is improperly spent, the +week will generally be like it." + +That morning the preacher took for his text the beautiful words in +Isaiah xli. 10, "Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed, for +I am thy God: I will strengthen thee--yea, I will help thee yea, I will +uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." These words came +like the sound of heavenly music into the soul of the widow; and she +prayed, with the fervency a mother alone can pray for a beloved and only +son, that the time might speedily come when he would be able to +appropriate these words, and realize, in the true sense of the term, God +as his Father. For George, although he had from early infancy been +brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and had learnt to +love holiness from so constantly seeing its beauty exemplified by his +parents, had not yet undergone that one great change which creates the +soul anew in Christ Jesus. + +Mr. Brunton arrived in the evening, just as Mrs. Weston and George were +starting out to the second service, and so they all went together to the +same place. The minister, an excellent man, who felt the responsibility +of his office, and took every opportunity of doing good, was in the +habit of giving four sermons a year especially to young men, and it so +happened that on this evening one of these discourses was to be +delivered. Nothing could have been more appropriate to a young man just +starting out in life than his address. The text was taken from those +solemn, striking words of the wise man, "My son, if sinners entice +thee, consent thou not." + +He spoke of the powerful influences continually at work to allure young +travellers along life's journey into the snares and pitfalls of sin, and +pointed to God's armoury, and the refuge from all the wiles of the +adversary. + +As the trio sat round the supper-table that evening, discussing the +events of the day, George said-- + +"I feel very glad that this Sunday has come before I go to Mr. +Compton's. I thought, when the text was given out this evening, that the +minister had prepared his sermon especially for me. I have no doubt all +he said was quite true; and so, being prepared, I shall be able to be on +my guard against the evils which he says are common to those who make +their first start in life." + +When Mr. Brunton rose to leave that night, he took George aside; and, +laying his hand on his shoulder, said-- + +"George, I am glad you have got your appointment, my boy; but I am +sorry, for some reasons, that it is in Mr. Compton's office, for I have +made inquiries about the clerks there, and I regret to find that they +are not the set of young men I should have liked you to be with. Now, I +want you to make me a promise. If ever you are placed in critical +circumstances, or dangers, or difficulties (I say _if_, because I do not +know why you should, but _if_ you are), be sure and come to me. Tell me, +as you always have done, honestly and openly, your difficulty, and you +will always find in me one willing to advise and assist you. Will you +promise?" + +"With all my heart I will, uncle; and thank you, too, for this, and all +your interests on my account." + +"Good-bye, then, George. Go on and prosper; and God bless you." + +Punctually at nine o'clock on Monday morning, George was at the office. +Mr. Sanders, the manager (the old gentleman whom George had seen on his +first visit), introduced him to the clerks by saying-- + +"This is Mr. George Weston, our new junior;" and George, with his face +all aglow, made a general bow in return to the salutations which were +given him. + +"This is to be your seat," said Mr. Sanders; "and that peg is for your +hat. And now, as you would, no doubt, like to begin at once, here is a +document I want copied." + +George was glad to have something to do; he felt all eyes were upon him, +and the whispered voices of the clerks rather grated upon his ears. He +took up his pen, and began to write; but he found his hand shaky, and he +was so confused that, after he had written half a page, and found he had +made two or three blunders, he was obliged to take a fresh sheet, and +begin again. + +"Take your time," said Mr. Sanders, who noticed his dilemma; "you will +get on right enough by-and-bye, when you are more accustomed to the +place and the work." + +George felt relieved by this; and making up his mind to try and forget +all around him, he set to work busily again, and in an hour or two had +finished the job. + +"I have done this, sir," he said, taking it to Mr. Sanders. "What shall +I do next?" + +"We will just examine it, and then you may take it into Mr. Compton's +room. After that you can go and get your dinner, and be back again in an +hour." + +The document was examined, and, to the surprise of George and Mr. +Sanders, not one mistake was found. "Come, this is beginning well," said +the manager; "we shall soon make a clerk of you, I see." + +When George went into Mr. Compton's room, and presented the papers, he +was again rewarded with an encouraging commendation. "This is very well +written--very well written indeed, and shows great painstaking," he +said. + +George felt he could have shaken hands with both principal and manager +for those few words. "How cheap a kind word is," he thought, "to those +who give it; but it is more precious than gold to the receiver. I like +these two men; and, if I can manage it, they shall like me too." + +George had not as yet exchanged a word with any of the clerks; but as he +was leaving the office to go to dinner, one of them was going out at the +same time, on the same errand. + +"Well, Mr. Weston, you find it precious dull, don't you, cooped up in +your den?" + +"Do you mean the office?" said George. + +"Yes; what else should I mean?" + +"It seems a comfortable office enough," said George, "and not +particularly dull; but I have not had sufficient experience in it to +judge." + +"You see, that old ogre (I beg his pardon, I mean old Sanders) takes +jolly good care there shall be no flinching from work while he's there, +and it makes a fellow deuced tired, pegging away all day long." + +"If this is a specimen of the clerks," thought George, "Uncle Brunton +was not far wrong when he said they were not a very good set." + +"From what I have seen of Mr. Sanders," he said, "I think him a very +nice man! and as for work, I always thought that was what clerks were +engaged to do, and therefore it is their duty to do it, whether under +the eye of the manager or not." + +George got this sentence out with some difficulty. He felt it was an +aggressive step, and did not doubt it would go the round of the office +as a tale against him. + +"Ugh!" said the clerk; "you've got a thing or two to learn yet, I see. +You must surely be fresh and green from the country; but such notions +soon die out. I don't like to be personal though, so we'll change the +subject. Where are you going to dine? Most of our chaps patronize the +King's Head--first-rate place; get anything you like in two twinklings +of a lamb's tail. I'm going there now; will you go? By the way, I should +have told you before this that my name is Williams." + +"I suppose, Mr. Williams,' the King's Head is a tavern? If so, I prefer +a coffee-house; but thank you, notwithstanding, for your offer." + +"By George! that's a rum start. Our chaps all hate coffee-shops, with +the exception of young Hardy, and he's coming round to our tastes now. +You can get a good feed at the King's Head--stunning tackle in the shape +of beer, and meet a decent set of fellows who know how to crack a joke +at table; whereas, if you go to a coffee-shop, you have an ugly slice of +meat set before you, a jorum of tea leaves and water, or some other +mess, and a disagreeable set of people around. Now, which is best?" + +"Your description is certainly unfavourable in the latter case; but I do +not suppose all coffeehouses are alike, and therefore I shall try one +to-day. Good morning." + +George soon found a nice-looking quiet place where he could dine, and +felt sure he had no need to go to taverns for better accommodation. + +When he returned to the office, at two o'clock, Mr. Sanders was absent, +and the clerks were busily engaged, not at work, but in conversation. +Mr. Williams was the principal speaker, and seemed to have something +very choice to communicate. George made no doubt that he was the subject +of conversation, for he had caught one or two words as he entered, which +warranted the supposition. He had nothing to do until Mr. Sanders +returned; this was an opportunity, therefore, for Mr. Williams to make +himself officious. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, "allow me to do the honours of the office by +introducing you, in a more definite manner than that old ----, I mean +than Mr. Sanders did this morning. This gentleman is Mr. Lawson, this is +Mr. Allwood, this is Mr. Malcolm, and this my young friend, Mr. Charles +Hardy, who is of a serious turn of mind, and is meditating entering the +ministry, or the undertaking line." + +A laugh at Hardy's expense was the result of this attempt at jocularity +on the part of Mr. Williams. George hardly knew how to acknowledge these +introductions; but, turning to Charles Hardy, he said,-- + +"As Mr. Williams has so candidly mentioned your qualities, Mr. Hardy, +perhaps you will favour me with a description of his." + +Hardy rose from his seat, for up to this time he had been engaged in +writing, and, in a tone of mock gravity, replied, + +"This is Mr. Williams, who lives at the antipodes of everything that is +quiet or serious, whose mission to the earth seems expressly to turn +everything he touches into a laugh. He is not a 'youth to fortune and +to fame unknown,' for in the archives of the King's Head his name is +emblazoned in imperishable characters." + +"Well said, Hardy!" said one or two at once. "Now, Williams, you are on +your mettle, old boy; stand true to your colours, and transmute the +sentence into a joke in self-defence." + +Williams was on the point of replying when Mr. Sanders entered. In an +instant all the clerks pretended to be up to their eyes in business; +each had his book or papers to hand as if by magic; whether upside down +or not was immaterial. + +But George Weston stood where he was; he could not condescend to so mean +an imposition, and he felt pleased to see that Charles Hardy, unlike the +others, made no attempt to hide the fact that he had been engaged in +conversation, instead of continuing at his work. + +At six o'clock the day's duties were over; and George felt not a little +pleased when the hour struck, and Mr. Sanders told him he could go. +Hardy was leaving just at the same time, and so they went out together. + +"Are you going anywhere in my direction?" said Hardy; "I live at +Canonbury." + +"Indeed!" replied George; "I'm glad to hear that, for I live at +Islington, close by you. If you are willing, we will bear one another +company, for I want to ask you one or two questions;" and taking Hardy's +arm, the two strolled homewards together. + +Now George would never have thought of walking arm in-arm with Mr. +Williams, or any of the other clerks; but, from the first time he saw +Hardy, and noticed his quiet, gentlemanly manners, he felt sure he +should like him. Hardy, too, had evidently taken a fancy to George; and +therefore both felt pleased that accident had brought them together. +Accident? No, that is a wrong word; whenever a heart feels that there is +another heart beating like its own, and those two hearts go out one +towards the other, until they become knit together in the bonds of +friendship, there is something more than accident in that. + +"How long have you been in Mr. Compton's office?" said George, as they +walked along, + +"Nearly two years," he replied; "I went there as soon as I left school. +I was then about seventeen years old; and there I have been ever since." + +"Then you are my senior by two years," said George. "I left school a +year ago, and this is my first situation. How do you like the office?" + +"Do you mean my particular seat, the clerks, or the duties, or all +combined?" + +"I should like to know how you like the whole combined." + +"I prefer my desk to yours, because I sit next to Mr. Malcolm, who is +one of the steadiest and most respectable clerks in the office; and +therefore I am not subject to so much annoyance as you will be, seated +next to that empty-headed Williams, and coarse low-minded Lawson. I do +not really like any of the clerks; there are none of them the sort of +young men I should choose as companions. As to the duties, they are +agreeable enough, and I have nothing to find fault with on that score." + +"I tell you candidly," said George, "I am not prepossessed in favour of +the clerks; they are far too 'fast' a set to please me; but I am very +glad, for my own sake, that you are in the office, Mr. Hardy." + +"Why?" + +"Because, although we are almost strangers at present, I know I shall +find in you some one who will be companionable. You don't seem very +thick with the others; you don't join with them in that mean practice of +shirking work directly Mr. Sanders's back is turned; and you don't, from +what I have heard, approve of the society at the King's Head, in which +the others seem to take so much delight. Now, in these points, I think, +our tastes are similar." + +"Ah! Mr. Weston," said Hardy, "you will find, as I have done, that +amongst such a set we are obliged to allow a great many things we do not +approve. But I'm very glad you have come amongst us; unity is strength, +you know, and two can make a better opposition than one. Now, will you +let me give you a hint?" + +"Certainly," said George. + +"Be on your guard with Lawson and Williams; they are two dangerous young +men, and can do no end of mischief, because they are double-faced--sneaking +sometimes, and bullying at others. I don't know whether you have heard +that you are filling a vacancy caused by one of our clerks leaving the +office in disgrace. It is not worth while my telling you the story now, +but that poor chap would never have left in the way he did, had it not +been for Lawson and Williams." + +"Many thanks, Mr. Hardy, for your information and advice, upon which I +will endeavour to act. And now, as our roads lay differently, we must +say good evening." + +"Adieu, then, till to-morrow," said Hardy. "By-the-bye, I pass this +road in the morning, at half-past eight; if you are here we will walk to +the office together." + +It took George the whole of the evening to give his mother a full +account of the day's proceedings; there were so many questions to ask on +her part, and so many descriptions to give on his, and such a number of +events occurred during the day, that it seemed as if he had at least a +week's experience to narrate. + +"I like Hardy, mother," said George, once or twice during the evening; +"he is such a thorough open-hearted fellow, and I know we shall get +along together capitally." + +"I hope so, my boy," said his mother; "but be very careful how you form +any other friendships." + +When Mrs. Western retired to her room for the night, it was not to +sleep. She felt anxious and uneasy about George; she thought of him as +the loving, gentle child, the merry, light-hearted boy, and the manly, +conscientious youth. Then she thought of the future. How would he stand +against the evil influences surrounding him? Would his frank, ingenuous +manner change, and the confidence he always reposed in her cease? Would +he be led away by the gay and thoughtless young men with whom he would +be associated? + +Tears gathered in the widow's eyes, and many a sigh sounded in that +quiet room; but Mrs. Weston had a Friend at hand, to whom she could go +and pour out all her anxieties. She would cast her burden on Him, for +she knew He cared for her. As she knelt before the mercy-seat, these +were her prayers:-- + +"Lord, create in him a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within him. +May he remember Thee in the days of his youth. Heavenly Father, lead him +not into temptation, but deliver him from evil Guide him by Thy counsel, +and lead him in the paths of righteousness, for Thy Name's sake." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW. + + +Six months passed rapidly away. George continued to give satisfaction to +Mr. Compton, soon learnt the office routine, and earned the warmest +expressions of approbation from Mr. Sanders, who said he was the best +junior clerk he ever remembered to have entered that office. + +George had carefully guarded against forming any kind of intimacy with +the other clerks; he had declined to have more to say to them during +office hours than possible, and when business was over he purposely +shunned them. But a strong friendship had sprung up between him and +Charles Hardy; every morning they came to the city together, and +returned in company in the evening. Sometimes George would spend an +evening at the house of Hardy's parents, and Hardy, in like manner, +would occasionally spend an evening with George. + +Williams and Lawson had, as Hardy predicted, been a source of great +annoyance to George. He was constantly obliged to bear their ridicule +because he would not conform to their habits, and sometimes the insults +he received were almost beyond his power of endurance. He and Hardy +received the name of the "Siamese youths," and were generally greeted +with such salutations as "How d'ye do? Is mamma pretty well?"--or +something equally galling. But George bore it all with exemplary +patience, and he did not doubt that after a while they would grow tired +of annoying him. At all events, he felt certain some new policy would be +adopted by them; for he had so risen in the estimation of his employer, +who began to repose confidence in him, and entrust him with more +important matters than he allowed the others to interfere with, that +George anticipated the time when the clerks would either be glad to +curry favour with him, or at least have to acknowledge that he was +regarded more highly than they were. + +So matters went on. Mrs. Weston was full of joy as she saw how well +George had kept his resolutions, and full of hope that he would continue +as he had begun. + +Mr. Brunton had given him many kind encouragements during this time, and +had felt himself well rewarded for all his trouble on George's behalf +by hearing from Mr. Compton of the satisfaction his services had given. + +And now an event occurred, simple and unimportant in itself, and yet it +was one that affected the whole of George's after-life. + +One evening, as he was leaving the office, and had just turned into +Fleet-street, a nice-looking, fashionably-dressed young man came running +up, and, clapping him on the shoulder, exclaimed, + +"What! George Weston, my old pippin, who ever thought of turning you up +in London!" + +"Harry Ashton! my old school-chum, how are you?" and the two friends +shook hands with a heartiness that surprised the passers-by. + +"Where ever have you been to, all these long years, George?" said Aston; +"only fancy, we have never seen each other since that day we were +playing hockey at dear old Dr. Seaward's, and you were hastily called +away to London. The Doctor told us the sad news, and we all felt for you +deeply, old fellow; in fact I never recollect the place having been so +gloomy before or since." + +"It was a sad time for me," said George; "and after that I lived at home +for a twelvemonth. Then I got an appointment in an office in +Falcon-court, and have held it just six months. Now, tell me where you +have sprung from, and where you have been since I last saw you?" + +"I stayed only six months longer at Dr. Seaward's and was then articled +to a surveyor in the Strand, with whom I have been nearly a year, and +now I am bound for my lodgings, and you must come with me." + +"You had better come with me," said George; "my mother will be so +pleased to welcome an old school-fellow of mine, and she is not +altogether a stranger to you." + +"Thank you, old fellow," replied Ashton; "I shall be very glad to accept +your invitation some other night; but, after our long separation, we +want to have a quiet, confidential chat over old times together, and I +must introduce you to my crib. I am a bachelor--all alone in my glory. +The old folks still live in the country, and I boarded at first in a +family; but that that was terribly slow work, and since that time I have +hung out on my own hook. So come along, George; I really can't hear any +excuse." + +George hesitated only a moment; he had never spent an evening from home +without first acquainting his mother; but this was an unusual event, +and he was so anxious to hear about Dr. Seaward, and talk over old +school days, the temptation was irresistible. + +Harry Ashton called a cab, much to George's surprise, into which they +jumped; and were not very long in getting into the Clapham road, where +they alighted before a large, nice looking house. + +"This is the crib," said Ashton, as he ushered George into a large +parlour, handsomely furnished with everything contributing to comfort +and amusement. "Now, make yourself at home. Here are some cigars +(producing a box of Havannahs), and here (opening a cellaret) is bottled +beer and wine; which shall it be?" + +"As to smoking, that is a bad habit, or an art (which you like) I have +never yet practised," said George; "but I will join you in a glass of +wine just to toast 'Dr. Seaward and our absent friends in the school.'" + +Then the two school friends fell into conversation. Many and many a +happy recollection came into their minds, and one long yarn was but the +preface to another. + +"Come, George, fill up your glass," said Ashton repeatedly; but George +declined. + +Two or three hours slipped rapidly away, and then George rose to leave. +"Not a bit of it, George," said Ashton; "we must have some supper and +discuss present times yet. I have not heard particulars of what you are +doing, or how you are getting on, and you only know I'm here, without +any of the history about it." + +So George yielded: how could he help it? Harry Ashton had become his +bosom-chum during the five years he had been at school, and all the old +happy memories of those days were again fresh upon him. + +"Now, George, tell your story first, and then mine shall follow." Then +George narrated all the leading circumstances which had attended his +life, from the time he left school up to that very evening, and a long +story it was. + +"Now," said Ashton, "for mine. When you left Folkestone I got up to your +place at the head of the school, and there I held on till I left. Six +months after you left, the holidays came, and I came up to town. I spent +a few days with Mr. Ralston, an old friend of the family, and one of the +first engineers and surveyors in London. He took a liking to me, offered +to take me into his office, wrote to the governor (I know you don't like +that term, though--I mean my father), proposed a sum as premium, +arrangements were made; and, instead of returning to school, I came to +London and commenced learning the arts and mysteries of a profession. I +had only been with Mr. Ralston two or three months, when one morning my +father came into the office, out of wind with excitement, and said, +'Harry, I have got sad and joyful, and wonderful news for you! Poor old +Mr. Cornish is dead; the will has been opened, and--make up your mind +for a surprise--the bulk of his property is left to you.' I was +thunderstruck. I knew the old gentleman would leave me something, but I +did not know that he had quarrelled with his relatives, and therefore +appropriated to me the share originally intended for them. So, you see, +I have stepped into luck's way. I am allowed an income now which amounts +to something like two hundred a year, as I shall not come into my rights +till I am twenty-one, and how I am not nineteen; so I have a long time +to wait, you see, which is rather annoying. I took this crib, and have +managed to enjoy my existence pretty well, I can assure you. Sometimes I +run down into the country to spend a week or two with the old folks, and +sometimes they come up and see me." + +"Don't you find it rather dull, living here alone, though?" said George. + +"Dull? far from it. I have a good large circle of friends, who like to +come round here and spend a quiet evening; and there are no end of +amusements in this great city, so that no one need never be dull. +Besides, if I am alone, I am not without friends, you see,"--pointing to +a well-stocked book case. + +"I have been running my eye over them, Harry. There are some very nice +books; but your tastes are changed since I knew you last, or you would +never waste your time over all this lot here which seem to have been +best used. I mean the 'Wandering Jew,' 'Ernest Maltravers,' and the +like." + +"I won't attempt to defend myself, George; but when I was at school, I +did as school-boys did: now I have come to London, I do as the Londoners +do. I know there is an absence of anything like reason in this, but I am +not much thrown amongst reasoners. But, to change the subject; now you +have found me out, George, I do hope you will very often chum with me. I +shall enjoy going about with you better than with anybody else; and as +we know one another so well, we shall soon have tastes and habits in +common again, as we used to have." + +Presently the clock struck. George started up in surprise. "What! +twelve o'clock! impossible. It never can be so late as that?" + +"It is, though," said Ashton, "but what of that? you don't surely call +twelve o'clock bad hours for once in a way?" + +"No, not for once in a way," replied George; "but I have never kept my +mother up so late before. Good-bye, old fellow. Promise to come and see +me some night this week. There is my address." And so saying, George ran +out into the street and made his way towards Islington. + +That was an anxious night for Mrs. Weston. "What can have happened?" she +asked herself a hundred times. Fortunately, Mr. Brunton called, and he +assisted to while away the time. + +"George does not often stay out of an evening, does he?" he asked. + +"No, never," replied Mrs. Weston; "unless it is with his friend, Charles +Hardy, and then I always know where they are, and what they are doing. +But something extraordinary must have happened to-night, and I feel very +anxious to know what it is. Not that I think he is anywhere he ought not +to be. I feel sure he is not," continued Mrs. Weston confidently; "but +what it is that has detained him, I am altogether at a loss to guess." + +"Well, I will not leave you till he comes home," said Mr. Brunton. + +It was one o'clock before George arrived; it was too late to get an +omnibus, and a cab, he thought, was altogether out of the question; +therefore he had to walk the whole distance--or rather run, for he was +as anxious now to get home as they were to see him. + +He was very much surprised, and, if it must be confessed, rather vexed +on some accounts, to find Mr. Brunton waiting up for him with his +mother. + +His explanation of what had happened, told in his merry, ingenuous way, +at once dissipated any anxiety they had felt. + +"I recollect Harry Ashton well," said Mrs. Weston. "Dr. Seaward pointed +him out to me, the first time I went to see you at Folkestone, as being +one of his best scholars; and he came home once with you in the holidays +to spend a day or two with us, did he not?" + +"That is the same, mother, and a better-hearted fellow it would be hard +to find." + +"There is only one disadvantage that I see in your having him as an +intimate friend," said Uncle Brunton, "and that is, he is now very +differently situated in position to you as regards wealth, and you +might find him a companion more liable to lead you into expense than any +of your other friends, because I know what a proud fellow you are, +George," he said, laughingly, "you like to do as your friends do, and +would not let them incur expense on your account unless you could return +their compliment. But I will not commence a moral discourse to-night--it +is time all good folks should be in bed." + +All the next day George was thinking over the events of the previous +evening; he was pleased to have found out Harry Ashton, and thought he +would be just the young man he wanted for a companion. Then he compared +their different modes of life--Ashton living in luxuriant circumstances, +without anybody or anything to interfere with his enjoyment, and he, +obliged to live very humbly and carefully in order to make both ends +meet; and then came a new feeling, that of restraint. + +"There is Ashton," he thought, "can go out when he likes and where he +likes, without its being necessary to say where he is going or what he +is going to do, and he can come in at night without being obliged to +account for all his actions like a child. If I happen to stay out, there +is Uncle Brunton and my mother in a great state of excitement about me, +which I don't think is right. I really do not wonder that the clerks +have made me a laughing-stock. All this while I have lived in London I +have seen nothing; have not been to any of the places of amusement; and +have not been a bit like the young men with whom I get thrown into +contact. I think Ashton is right, after all, in saying that when he was +at school he did as school-boys did, and when he came to London he did +as the Londoners do. Far be it from me to be undutiful to those who care +for me; but I think, as a young man, I do owe a duty to myself, +different altogether from that which belonged to me as a schoolboy." + +These were all new thoughts to George: he had never felt or even thought +of restraint before; he had never even expressed a wish to do as other +young men did, in wasting precious time on useless amusements; he had +always looked forward to an evening at home with pleasure, and had never +felt the least inclination to wander forth in search of recreation +elsewhere. Nay, he had always condemned it; and when Lawson or Williams, +or any of the other clerks, had proposed such a thing to him, he never +minded bearing their ridicule in declining. + +And here was George's danger. He was upon his guard with his +fellow-clerks, and was able to keep his resolution not to adopt their +ideas, nor fall into their ways and habits; but when those very evils he +condemned in them were presented to him in a different form by Harry +Ashton, his old friend and school-fellow--leaving the principle the +same, and only the practice a little altered--he was off his guard; and +the habits he regarded with dislike in Williams and Lawson, he was +beginning secretly to admire in Ashton. + +As he walked home that evening with Hardy he gave him a long description +of his meeting with Ashton, and all that happened during his interview +and upon his return home. + +"Now, Hardy," said George, "which do you think is really +preferable--Harry Ashton's life or ours? We never go out anywhere; and, +for the matter of that, might as well be living in monasteries, as far +as knowing what is going on in the world is concerned." + +"For my own part, Weston," said Hardy, "I would rather be as I am. Your +friend is surrounded with infinitely greater temptations than we are, +from the fact of his living as he does without any control. He is +evidently free from his parents, and although he is old enough to take +care of himself, still there is a certain restraint felt under a +parent's roof which is very desirable." + +"Quite true," said George; "but that involves a point which has been +perplexing me all day. Should we, after we have arrived at a certain +age, acknowledge a parent's control as we did when we were mere +school-boys? I do not mean are we to cease to honour them, because that +we cannot do while God's commandment lasts; but are we, as Williams +says, always to go in leading-strings, or are we at liberty to think and +act for ourselves?" + +"That depends a good deal on the way in which we wish to think and act. +For instance, my parents object to Sunday travelling and Sunday +visiting. Now, while I am living with them, I feel it would not be right +for me to do either of these things--even though as a matter of +principle I might not see any positive wrong in them--because it would +bring me into opposition with my parents. So, in spending evenings away +from home, I know it would be contrary to their wish, and it is right to +try and prevent our opinions clashing." + +"I agree with you, partly, Hardy; but only partly. We must study our +parents' opinions in the main, but not in points of detail. Suppose I +want to attend a course of lectures, for example, which would take me +from home sometimes in the evening; and my mother objects to my spending +evenings from home, although the study might be advantageous to me--then +I think I should be at liberty to adhere to my own opinion; if not, I +should be under the same restraint I was as a child. It is right and +natural that parents should feel desirous to know what associations +their sons are forming, and what are their habits, and all that sort of +thing; but I am inclined to think it is not right for a parent to +exercise so strong a control as to say, 'So-and-so shall be your +companion;' and, 'You may go to this place, but you may not go to +that.'" + +"Well, Weston, your digestion must be out of order, or you are a little +bilious, or something; for I never heard you talk like this before. I +have told you, confidentially sometimes, that I have wanted to rebel +against the wishes of my parents on some points, and you have always +counselled me, like a sage, grey-headed father, to give up my desire. +But now you turn right round, and place me in the position of the +parent, and you the rebellious son. I recommend, therefore, that you +take two pills, for I am sure bile is at the bottom of this; and then I +will feel your pulse upon this point again." + +Mrs. Weston noticed a difference in George that evening. He seemed as +if he had got something upon his mind which was perplexing him. He was +not so cheerful and merry as usual, but his mother attributed it partly +to his late hours, followed by a hard day's work, and therefore she said +nothing to him about it. + +A day or two elapsed, and George was still brooding upon the same +subject. He did not know that the great tempter was weaving a subtle net +around him, to lure him into the broad road which leadeth to +destruction. He tried a hundred times to fight against the strange +influence he felt upon him; but he did not fight with the right weapons, +and therefore he failed. Had the tempter suggested to him that, as he +was a young man, he should do as his fellow-clerks, or even Ashton did, +and have his way in all things, he would have seen the temptation; but +it came altogether in a different way. The evil voice said, "You are +under restraint. Ask any young man of your own age, and he will tell you +so. It is high time you should unloose yourself from apron-strings." And +this idea of restraint was preying upon him, and he could not throw it +off. George was anxious to do the right, but did not know how to fight +against the wrong. Conscience whispered to him, "Do you remember that +motto your dying father gave you, 'For me to live is Christ?'" George +replied, "Yes, I remember it; and it is still my desire to follow it." +Conscience said again, "Do you recollect that sermon you heard, and the +resolutions you made, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou +not?'" And he answered, "I remember it well; but I am not aware that any +are endeavouring to entice me." + +This was the effect of the unconscious influence of Harry Ashton. He had +unknowingly fanned a latent spark into a flame, which, unless checked, +would consume all those high and praiseworthy resolutions which George +had formed, and carefully kept for years. He had cast a shadow over the +landscape of his friend's well-being, which made the sign-posts pointing +"upward and onward" almost indistinct. He had breathed into the +atmosphere a subtle malaria, and George had caught the disease. The +little leaven was now mixed with his life, which would leaven the whole. +The genus of that moral consumption, which, unless cured by the Great +Physician, ends in death, had been sown, and were now taking root. + +George was unconscious of any foreign influence working upon him--he +could not see that Ashton had in any way exerted a power over him; nor +in the new and undefined feelings which had taken possession of him +could he recognise the presence of evil. He had consulted conscience, +and, he fancied, had satisfactorily met the warnings of its voice. + +But he had _not_ gone to that high and sure source of strength which can +alone make a way of escape from all temptations; he had _not_ obtained +that armour of righteousness which is the only defence against the fiery +darts of the wicked one; he had _not_ that faith, in the power of which +alone Satan can be resisted; and therefore his eyes were holden so that +he could not see the snares which the subtle foe was laying around him, +nor could he, in his own strength, bear up against the strong tide which +was threatening to overwhelm him. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A FARCE. + + +Harry Ashton kept his promise, and went one evening that week to see +George at Islington. Hardy had been invited to meet him; and the three +friends, as they kept up a perfect rattle of conversation, interspersed +with many crossfired jokes, made the merriest and happiest little party +that could be imagined. + +Mrs. Weston was very much pleased with Ashton--his refined thought and +gentlemanly address, joined with an open-hearted candour and a fund of +humour which sparkled in every sentence, made it impossible for any one +not to like him. Charles Hardy thought he had never met a more +entertaining companion than Ashton; Ashton thought Hardy was an +intelligent, agreeable fellow; and George declared to his mother that, +if he had had the pick of all the young men in London, he could not have +found two nicer fellows. + +A hundred topics were discoursed upon during the evening, in which +Ashton generally took the lead, and showed himself to be very well +informed on all ordinary subjects. Incidentally the theatre was +mentioned. + +"Have you seen that new piece at the Lyceum?" said Ashton. "It is really +a very capital thing." + +"No," said George. "I have never been to a theatre." + +"Nor I," said Hardy. + +"Nor I," said Mrs. Weston. + +"Well, that is really very extraordinary," said Ashton; "I thought +almost everybody went to a theatre at some time or other. But perhaps +you have some objection?" + +"I have," said Mrs. Weston. "I think there is a great deal of evil +learnt there, and very little good, if any. It is expensive; and it +leads into other bad habits." + +"Those last objections cannot be gainsaid," said Ashton; "but they +equally apply to all amusements, and therefore, by that rule, all +amusements are bad." + +"But not in an equal degree with that of the theatre," George remarked; +"because other amusements do not possess such an infatuation. For my +own part, I should not mind going to a concert; but I very much +disapprove of the theatre, and should never hesitate to decline going +there." + +"Yours is not a good argument, George. You have never been to the +theatre, you say, and yet you disapprove of it. Are you right in +pronouncing such an opinion, which cannot be the result of your own +investigation?" + +"I think I am," replied George; "I can adopt the opinions of those whom +experience has instructed in the matter, and in whom I can rely with +implicit confidence. If a man goes through a dangerous track, and falls +into a bog, I should be willing to admit the track was dangerous, and +avoid the bog, without going in to prove the former traveller was right; +and this applies to going to theatres." + +"No, George; there is your error. There would be no two opinions about +the bog; but suppose you go for a tour to the Pyrenees, and, from +prejudice or some other cause, come back disgusted. You warn me not to +go, telling me I shall be wasting my time, and find nothing interesting +to reward my trouble in the journey. But Hardy goes the same tour, comes +home delighted, and says, 'Go to the Pyrenees by all means; it is a +glorious place, the most pleasant in the whole world for a tour.' To +decide the question, I read two books; one agrees with you, and the +other with Hardy. How can I arrive at an opinion unless I go myself, and +see what it is like? So it is with the theatre: some say it is the great +teacher of morals, others that it is the most wicked and hurtful place. +Therefore I think every one should form his own opinion from his own +experience." + +"You may be right," said George, waveringly. "I am not clear upon the +subject; but I do not think, even if I were to form an opinion in the +way you prescribe, that I should ever choose the theatre as a place of +amusement." + +"Then what is your favourite amusement?" asked Ashton. + +"To come home and read, or spend a social evening with a friend," George +answered. + +"Then I know what will suit you all to pieces," said Ashton; "and your +friend Hardy too. I am a member of a literary institution. It is a +first-rate place--the best in London. There are lectures and classes, +and soirées, a debating society, a good library, and rooms for +chess-playing and that sort of thing. Now, you really must join it; it +will be so very nice for us to have a regular place of meeting; and, +besides that, we can combine study with amusement. What do you say, Mrs. +Weston?" + +"I cannot see any objection to literary institutions," said Mrs. Weston; +"but I have always considered them better suited to young men who are +away from home, than for those who have comfortable homes in which to +spend their evenings. You speak about having a regular place of meeting. +I shall always be very pleased to see you and Mr. Hardy here, as often +as ever you can manage to spend an evening with us." + +"Many thanks for your kindness, Mrs. Weston," returned Ashton; "but it +would not be right for us to trespass on your good nature. Now I will +give you and your friend a challenge, George," he continued. "Next +Monday, the first debate of the season comes off; will you allow me to +introduce you to the institution on that evening?--it is a member's +privilege." + +"I shall be very pleased to join you, then," said George. "What say you, +Hardy?" + +"I accept the invitation, with thanks," replied Hardy. + +On Monday night, as George and Hardy journeyed towards the place of +meeting, they discussed the question of joining the institution. + +"If you will, I will," said Hardy. "My parents do not much like the +idea; but, as you said the other evening, 'we must not allow ourselves +to be controlled like mere children.'" + +"I do think we really require a little recreation after business hours; +and we can obtain none better than that of an intellectual kind, such as +is found at literary institutions. The new term has only just commenced; +so we may as well be enrolled as members at once." + +"I wish the institution was a little nearer home," said Hardy, "for it +will be so late of an evening for us to be out. However, we need not +always attend, nor is it necessary we should very often be late. Have +you had any difficulty in obtaining Mrs. Weston's consent to your +joining?" + +"None at all; she prefers my attending an institution of this kind to +any other, although probably she would be better pleased if I did not +join one at all. But, as Ashton says, we really must live up to the +times, and know something of what is going on in the world around us. +Did you not notice, the other evening, how Ashton could speak upon every +subject brought on the carpet? My mother said, 'What a remarkably +agreeable young man he is! he has evidently seen a good deal of +society;' and I think the two things are inseparable--to be agreeable +in society, one must mix more with it." + +Ashton was punctual to his appointment; and all were at the institution +just as the members were assembling for the debate. George was surprised +to find how many of the young men knew Ashton, and he admired the ease +and elegance of his friend in acknowledging the greetings which met him +on every hand. + +"I won't bore you with introductions to-night," he said, "except to just +half-a-dozen fellows in particular, who, I am sure, you will like to +know; and we can all sit together and compare opinions during the +debate." + +The friends were accordingly introduced; and as the proceedings of the +evening went on, and all waxed warm upon the subject under discussion, +the party which Ashton had drawn together soon became known to one +another, and were on terms of conversational acquaintance. + +The meeting separated at ten o'clock, and then George and Hardy essayed +to bid good-night to their friends, and make their way at once towards +Islington. + +"Nonsense," said Ashton; "I want you to come with me to a nice quiet +place I know, close by, and have a bit of supper and a chat over all +that has been said, and then I will walk part of the way home with you." + +"No, not to-night, Ashton; it is quite late enough already; and it will +be past eleven o'clock before we get home as it is." + +"What say you, Hardy? Can you persuade our sage old friend to abandon +his ten o'clock habits for one night?" asked Ashton. + +"I do not like to establish a bad precedent," said Hardy; "and as we +have to-night joined the institution, I think we should make a rule to +start off home as soon as we leave the meetings, because we have some +distance to go, and bad hours, you know, interfere with business." + +"I did not expect you to make a rule to keep bad hours," said Ashton;" +but every rule has an exception--" + +"And therefore it will not do to commence with the exception; so +good-bye, till we meet again on Wednesday." + +Three nights a-week there was something going on at the institution +sufficiently attractive to draw George and Hardy there. One evening a +lecture, another the discussion class, and the third an elocution class, +or more frequently that was resigned in favour of chess. From meeting +the same young men, night after night, a great number of new +acquaintanceships were formed, and George would never have spent an +evening at home, had he accepted the invitations which were frequently +being given him; but he had made a compact with himself, that he would +never be out more than three evenings a week, and would devote the +remainder to the society of his mother. A certain little voice did +sometimes say to him, "Is it quite right and kind of you, George, to +leave your mother so often? Do you not think it must be rather lonely +for her, sometimes, without you?" And George would answer to the voice, +"Mother would never wish to stand between me and my improvement. +Besides, she has many friends who visit her, and with whom she visits; +and few young men of my age give their mothers more than three evenings +of their society a week." + +One evening, as George and Hardy were entering the institution, Harry +Ashton came up to them, and said,-- + +"I have just had some tickets sent me for the Adelphi. There is nothing +going on here worth staying for, so I shall go. Dixon will make one, and +you and Hardy must make up the quartette." + +"Dixon going?" asked George; "why, I thought he was such a sedate +fellow, and never went to anything of the sort!" + +"Neither does he, as a rule; but he has never been to the Adelphi, and +he wants to go. Will you accompany us?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "I told you once I did not like theatres; +perhaps you recollect we discussed the point one evening?" + +"We did, and you said you had never been to a theatre: you disapproved +of them, without ever having had an opportunity of judging whether they +were good or bad places. Now, take the opportunity." + +"I am not anxious to form a judgment; and I so dislike all the +associations of a theatre that it would be no pleasure for me to go." + +"Complimentary, certainly!" laughed Ashton. "But I will grant you this +much--there are bad associations connected with the theatres, and this +is the stronghold of objectors; but we are four staid sober fellows, we +shall go to our box without any bother, sit and see the play without +exchanging a word with anybody beyond our own party, and then leave as +soon as the performance is over. You had better say you will go, eh?" + +"No, it would be very late before I got home," said George: "and I do +not like keeping my mother up, more particularly as I was so very late +the other evening. But what do you say, Hardy?" + +"I don't know what to say," said Hardy. "I did once say to myself I +would never go to a theatre; but I am not sure that there is any moral +obligation why I should keep my word, when the compact rests only with +myself. I have not time to consult Paley, and so I put the question to +you--Can I go, seeing I have said to myself I will not?" + +"Arrange it in this way," said Ashton; "both of you go, and when you get +there, if you decide you have done wrong, then leave at once; or if you +find that your consciences are in durance vile, and you have not +patience or sufficient interest to stay and see the play out, go, and I +will excuse you then with all my heart; but I won't excuse your not +going. Now is your time to decide; for here comes Dixon, true to his +appointment." + +"I suppose you have got your party complete, Ashton?" he said; "and if +so, we had better start at once, or the play will have begun before we +get there." + +George pondered no longer. "Suppose we try it, Hardy, on Ashton's +plan," said he; "I don't see any harm in that, do you?" + +"No, I think that is the best way in which the case can be put," he +replied; "and I don't see that any harm can possibly come of it." + +Away went the party, full of high spirits, bent upon amusement. But +George felt a certain uneasy something, which tried to make him feel +less pleased with himself than usual, and his laugh was at first forced +and unnatural; there was not the same joyousness there would have been +had he been starting on some recreation which he knew would be approved +by parent and friends, and his own conscience. Ashton noticed he did not +seem to be quite at ease; and therefore he brought all his humour into +play to provoke hilarity. By the time they arrived at the theatre, that +love of novelty and excitement which is so natural to young people +completely overcame all other feelings, and the sight of the crowds +flocking into all parts of the house was now an irresistible temptation +to follow in too. + +They were shown into a very comfortable box, commanding a good view of +the whole of the theatre. The thrilling strains of music issuing from +the orchestra, the dazzling lights, and the large assembly of elegantly +dressed ladies in the boxes, a mass of people in the pit, and tiers of +heads in the galleries, filled George with excitement. He who a little +while before had been the dullest of the party, was now the gayest of +the gay; he was lost in astonishment at all he saw and heard, dazzled +with the brilliancy of the scene, and abandoned to all the enjoyments of +the hour. + +The performances that evening consisted of a farce, the comedy of the +"Serious Family," and a ballet. When the curtain rose, and the farce +commenced, George entered heart and soul into the spirit of the +performance; laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks at the +dilemmas of an unlucky wight who acted a prominent part, and stamped +applause in favour of a young lady who tried in every way to defend this +unfortunate individual from his persecutors. + +When it was over, Ashton turned to George, and said-- + +"Well, Weston, so much for the farce; now, if you think it is +objectionable, off you go, old fellow, and we will forgive you." + +"No," said George; "I think that farce was capital, and I shall stay now +and see the end. I am not surprised people like the theatre--I never +enjoyed a laugh more in my life. But there is one thing I have not +liked. That hero of the piece did not scruple to use language for which +he would have been kicked out of any respectable private house--and yet +there are respectable people here, old and young, all listening and +seeming to enjoy it. That shows there is insincerity somewhere; either +these people hush their sensitive feelings in the playhouse, or they are +hypocrites at home, and profess to be much more refined than they really +are." + +"You evidently don't understand plays yet," said Ashton; "that man +depicts a certain style of life, and he must be true to it. If he enacts +the part of a costermonger, he must swear and talk slang, and commit +crimes, if need be, or anything suiting the character he assumes; or +else the thing would be absurd, and the gentleman and costermonger would +be both alike." + +"The theatre must be a 'great teacher of morals,' then, if we come here +to be initiated into the vices of costermongers," said George, rather +sarcastically. + +"George," whispered Hardy, "we've got into a mess; look down in the +pit--Williams and Lawson are there. They have recognized us, and are +nodding--shall we nod?" + +"Yes," said George, and he nodded; but his face was red as crimson. "I +would not have had Lawson and Williams see us here for the world," he +whispered to Hardy; "but it's too late now--as you say, we've got into a +mess." + +Just then the curtain rose again, and the play of the "Serious Family," +commenced. + +The plot of the piece is this:-- + +Mr. Abinadab Sleek and Lady Creamly are two hypocrites, introduced as +ordinary specimens of Christians. They are living in the house of their +daughter and son-in-law (Mr. and Mrs. Charles Torrens), over whom they +exercise a stern and despotic control. Mr. Charles Torrens, "for the +sake of peace and quietness," agrees to all the solemnities opposed upon +him; and is willing to pass himself off in Christian circles as a +co-worker with Mr. Abinadab Sleek. In his heart he detests everything +like seriousness; and whenever an opportunity occurs, on the pretext of +going into the country, indulges in the gaieties and vices of London +fashionable life. He is visited by an old friend, Captain Murphy +Maguire, who persuades him to renounce boldly the sanctimonious customs +of the "Serious Family," and enjoy with unshackled freedom the pleasures +of the world. To this he consents; but he has not courage to alter the +family customs. Captain Maguire aids his plans by convincing Mrs. C. +Torrens that unless she provides in her home those amusements which are +found in the world, her husband will prefer the world to his home. A +conspiracy is laid to oppose the religious tyranny of Mr. Abinadab +Sleek, the result of which is, that a ball is given by Mr. Torrens, +assisted by his wife, who, throwing off her former profession of +Christianity, becomes a woman of the world. On all this their future +happiness as man and wife is made to hinge; and when, through the flimsy +plot of the piece, the tableau arrives, the curtain drops, leaving the +younger members of the "Serious Family" whirling in the giddy dance, +commencing the new era of domestic happiness. + +Throughout the play, Scripture is quoted and ridiculed, religion is made +contemptible, and vice under the name of "geniality, openheartedness, +and merriment," is made to appear the one thing necessary to constitute +real happiness. + +George followed the play through all its shifting scenes; now laughed, +now sighed, now felt the hot blush of shame as he listened to the +atrocious mockery of everything which, from the time he had been an +infant on his mother's knee, he had been taught to regard as good and +pure. He was heated to indignation when the audience applauded the base +character of Maguire, and shuddered when as he thought that a masked +hypocrite was brought before the world as the type of a Christian, and +that a "Serious Family" was only another name for an unhappy, canting +set of ignorant people. + +And yet George did not leave the theatre. He was hurt, wounded to the +heart by what he saw and heard, felt he would have given the world to +have stood up in the box, and have told the audience that the play was a +libel upon everything sacred and solemn; but he stayed and saw it out, +rivetted by that strange, unholy infatuation which has been the bane of +so many. + +"Let us go now, Hardy," he said, as the curtain dropped; "you do not +care to see the ballet, do you?" + +"Oh, in for a penny, in for a pound. While we are here, we may as well +see all that is to be seen. I won't ask you how you liked the comedy. I +want to see something lively now, to remove the disagreeable impressions +it has left upon me." + +And so they stayed, delighted with the music, fascinated with the +graceful dancing, and dazzled with the scenery. At length the curtain +fell, and the evening's performance was over. + +"It is only half-past eleven," said Ashton, when they got outside; "now +we must just turn in somewhere, and get a bit of supper, and then, I +suppose we must separate. There is a first-rate hotel close handy, where +I sometimes dine. What do you say?" + +"Just the place for us," said Dixon; "because we must limit ourselves to +half an hour, and we shall get what we want quickly there." + +As they went into the supper-room, George saw, to his vexation, Lawson +and Williams, with a party of boon companions, seated round a table at +the further end. He instantly drew back; but it was too late, they had +recognised him. + +"Confound it!" he said to Ashton, "there are some chaps from our office, +at the end there. I do not wish to meet them; cannot we go into a +private room?" + +"Certainly," said Ashton; and the party retreated. "But why do you not +wish to meet your fellow clerks?" + +"Because they are a low set of fellows with whom I have nothing in +common." + +When supper was over and the clock had struck twelve, the party +separated. + +"Good night, old fellow," said Ashton to George. "I am sorry we have +not seen quite the sort of play you would have liked; but now you have +seen the worst side of the theatre, and next time we go together we will +try and see the best; so that between the two extremes you will be able +to discriminate and determine what sort of place the theatre is as an +amusement." + +"Thank you, Ashton, for your share in the entertainment to-night. I will +talk to you about the play some other time; but I must say, candidly, I +never felt so distressed in my life as I did while that gross insult to +all good feeling, 'The Serious Family,' was being performed. If you had +said to me what that wretch, Captain Maguire, said in my hearing +to-night, I would not have shaken hands with you again as I do now." + +An omnibus happened to be passing for the Angel at Islington that +moment, and George and Hardy got up. + +"What shall we do with regard to Williams and Lawson?" said Hardy. "They +have got a victory to-night. I fear our protest against theatres and +taverns is over with them for ever now, seeing they have caught us at +both places." + +"I cannot but regret the circumstance," said George, "but it is nothing +to them; they are not our father-confessors, and we are not bound to +enter into any particulars with them. The greatest difficulty with me is +how to manage when I get home. I don't like deceiving my mother; but I +should not like to pain her by saying I have been to the theatre. She +knew I started for the institution, and that I might possibly be late; +so, unless she asks me where I have been, I don't see that there will be +any good in unnecessarily distressing her." + +"The disagreeable thing in such a case is," replied Hardy, "if the fact +comes out afterwards, it _looks_ as if a deception had been practised." + +George and Hardy had never talked together like this before; and they +spoke hesitatingly, as if they hardly liked to hear their own voices +joining to discuss a mean, unworthy, dishonourable trick. + +O temptation! what an inclined path is thine! How slippery for the feet, +and how rapidly the unwary traveller slides along, lower and lower--each +step making the attempt to ascend again to high ground more difficult! +George had made many dangerous slips that night--would he ever regain +his position? + +Mrs. Weston was sitting up for George, and pleased was she to hear, at +last, his knock at the door. + +"Mother, this is too bad of me, keeping you up so late," said George. "I +really did not mean to keep bad hours to-night; but I will turn over a +new leaf for the future." + +"I do not mind sitting up, George, if it is for your good," she +answered; "but I fear you will not improve your health by being so late +as this. Have you enjoyed your meeting to-night?" + +"Pretty well," said George; "but I have been with Ashton, Dixon, and +Hardy since." + +"Then you have not had supper?" + +"Yes, we had supper with Ashton." George got red as he said this. It was +the first time he ever remembered wilfully deceiving his mother. + +"Oh! that has made you late, then," said Mrs. Weston. "I am afraid +Ashton has so many attractions in those apartments of his--what with +friends, books, and curiosities--that you find it difficult to break up +your social gatherings." + +"It is too bad of me to leave you so often, my dear mother; but I don't +mean to go to Ashton's again for some time, unless he comes to see us; +and so I shall return straight home from the institution for a long +while." + +When George retired to his room, he felt so distracted with all that +had taken place, that his old custom of reading a chapter from God's +Word, and kneeling down to pray before getting into bed, was abandoned +for that night. He tried to sleep, but could not. The strains of music +were yet ringing in his ears, and the dazzling light was still flashing +before his eyes. Then the plays came again before him; and he followed +the plots throughout, smiling again over some of the jokes, and feeling +depressed at the sad parts. Then he thought of Williams and Lawson, and +reproached himself for having acted that evening very, very foolishly. +Alas! this was not the right term; it was more than foolishness to +tamper with the voice of conscience, to violate principles which had +been inculcated from childhood, to plot wilful deceit, and act a lie. +Instead of saying he had acted foolishly, he should have said, "Father, +I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight Have mercy upon me, O God! +Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquities, and cleanse me from my sin; for +against Thee, Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil." But George +only said, "I am so very vexed I went with Ashton to-night; it was very +foolish!--very foolish!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE LECTURE. + + +"You look seedy this morning, Mr. Weston," said Williams, as George +entered the office on the following day. "The effect of last night's +dissipation, I suppose. How did you like the play?" + +"Not at all," answered George, mortified and angry at having the +question put to him before all the clerks, who were now informed of the +fact of his having been there. + +"No; I suppose one Abinadab Sleek does not like to hear another one of +the same gang spoken ill of, eh?" + +"I do not understand you," said George. + +"Then, to put it plainer, you and Hardy, who are of the 'Serious Family' +style, don't like to see yourselves taken off quite so true to life as +you were last night at the Adelphi. You saw that old canting Abinadab +Sleek was up to every dodge and vice, although he did seem such a +sanctified individual in public; and our young Solomons, who condemn +wicked theatres and disgusting taverns, can go to both on the sly, and +be as sanctimonious as ever Abinadab was in office." + +George felt his hands clench, and his eyes flash fire. He could bear +taunts from Williams, when he had right on his side, and felt the +consciousness of innocence; but he could not bear it now. + +"You lie," said George passionately, "in drawing that comparison." + +"And you lie continually," said Williams, "in acting a perpetual edition +of that part of the 'Serious Family' represented by Abinadab Sleek." + +"Fight it out I fight it out!" said Lawson. "The Governor won't be here +for half an hour; bolt the door and have it out." + +"Nothing of the kind," said Hardy, stepping forward. "Williams is the +aggressor in this instance; it is nothing to him if Weston and I went to +the theatre every night in our lives; he has no right to interfere; if +he fights it must be with Weston and me, for he insults me as much as my +friend." + +"Then come on," said Williams, taking off his coat, "and I'll take you +both: one man is worth two canting hypocrites, any day." + +But no one had bolted the door, and, to the surprise of all, Mr. +Compton stood before them. + +"What is this?" he said; "young men in my office talking of fighting, as +if it were the tap-room of a public house? George Weston! I did not +think this of you." + +"Do not judge hastily, sir," said Hardy. "My friend Weston has been +grossly insulted by Mr. Williams, and the little disturbance has only +been got up through jealousy, to get him into trouble." + +"Step into my room a moment, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Compton; "and you, +too, Weston and Williams." + +George was flushed with excitement; but his proud, manly bearing, in +contrast to the crest-fallen Williams, won for him the admiration of the +whole staff of clerks. + +Mr. Compton patiently heard from Hardy a recital of the causes leading +to the fray, and was made acquainted with the course of opposition +George had to contend with, from Williams and Lawson, ever since he had +been in the office. + +"I regret this circumstance," said Mr. Compton, "for several reasons. I +have always held you, Weston, in the highest estimation, nor do I see +sufficient cause, from this event, to alter my estimate; but I have +always found my best clerks those who have been in the habit of spending +their evenings elsewhere than in theatres and taverns. I am not +surprised at the part you have taken, Mr. Williams; and it now rests +with you, whether you remain in this office or leave. I will not have +the junior clerks in this establishment held in subjection to those who +have been with me a few years longer; nor will I have a system of insult +and opposition continued, which must eventually lead to unpleasant +results. If I hear any more of this matter, or find that you persist in +your unwarranted insults on Mr. Weston, I shall at once dismiss you from +my service. You did well, Mr. Hardy, in interfering to prevent a +disgraceful fight; and, much as I dislike tale-bearing, I request you to +inform me, for the future, of any unpleasantness arising to Mr. Weston +from this affair." + +Williams was terribly crest-fallen, and the tide of office opinion +turned from him in favour of George and Hardy, who, without crowing over +the victory they had gained, yet showed a manly determination not to +allow an insult which reflected upon their characters. + +"I tell you what it is," whispered Lawson to Williams; "Old Compton +takes a fancy to those two sneaking fellows, and, after this affair, +the office will get too hot for us if we do not draw it milder to them. +If I were you, I should waylay them outside the office and say something +civil, by way of soft soap, so as to nip this matter off, for you've got +the worst of it so far." + +Williams determined to accept the hint Lawson had given him, and when +the office closed, remained in the court until George came out. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, stretching out his hand, which George felt would +be mean-spirited not to take, "that was an unpleasant affair this +morning, but I didn't think you would fire up as you did; and when I let +fly at you, it was only in joke." + +"I must deny that it was a joke," George replied; "it was an intended +insult. Probably you might not have thought it would have produced +indignation in me, because you, evidently, do not understand my feelings +in the matter. However, let the thing drop now. I will not retract what +I said to you this morning, that you lied in forming that estimate of my +character, nor do I ask you to retract your words, unless your +conscience tells you that you wronged me." + +"What I said was hasty, and I don't mind eating all my words," said +Williams; "so, as the song says, 'Come, let us be happy together.' Will +you come into the King's Head, and take a glass of wine on the strength +of it?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "but as it is no wish of mine to live at +loggerheads with any one, here is my hand upon it." + +And then they shook hands, and so the matter ended. But it ended only so +far as Williams was concerned. A day or two afterwards Mr. Brunton was +passing the office, and he called in to say "How d'ye do?" to Mr. +Compton. In the course of conversation he asked how George was getting +on, and whether he continued to give satisfaction. + +"Yes," said Mr. Compton, "I have no fault to find with him; on the +contrary, he is the best junior clerk I ever had, and I trust him with +matters I never placed in the hands of a junior clerk before. But there +was an unfortunate occurrence the other day, which I think it right to +mention to you confidentially." And then Mr. Brunton heard the whole +history of the theatre adventure, and its consequences in the office on +the following morning. He was grieved, deeply grieved. At first he could +not credit the account; but when he heard that George had himself +confessed to the truth of the circumstances before Mr. Compton, and +there was no longer room to doubt, a tear stood in his eye as he thought +of his nephew--that noble, manly boy, whom he loved with all the +affection of a father--stooping to temptation, and acting the part of a +deceiver; for Mr. Brunton had spent an evening with Mrs. Weston and +George, and had heard nothing of his having been to a theatre, nor did +he believe Mrs. Weston was aware of it. + +"What I have told you is strictly confidential," said Mr. Compton; "but +as you are, as it were, the father of George Weston, I thought it only +right that you should know this, in order that you may warn him, if he +has got into the hands of bad companions." + +George was absent from the office during the interview, and did not know +until some days afterwards of his uncle's visit. + +Mr. Brunton went from Falcon-court a sadder man. He was perplexed and +harassed; he could not conscientiously tell Mrs. Weston, as he had +received the information in confidence; he could not speak directly to +George upon the subject, because he would at once have known that Mr. +Compton must have given the statement to his uncle. He was obliged, +therefore, to remain passive in the matter for a day or two, and +resolved to spend an evening that week at Islington. + +In the meantime the affair became known to Mrs. Weston, and in rather a +curious manner. George had worn his best coat on the evening he went to +the theatre; and one day as Mrs. Weston, according to custom, was +brushing it, before putting it away in his drawers, she turned out the +pockets, and, amongst other things, drew forth a well-used play-bill. + +"George has never been to the theatre, surely?" she asked herself. +"Impossible! he would have told me had he done so, for he is far too +high-principled to deceive me." + +But the sight of that play-bill worried Mrs. Weston. She thought over it +all day, and longed for the evening to come, when she might ask George +about it. + +That evening Mr. Brunton had determined to spend at Islington; and as he +was passing Falcon-court, he called for George on his way, and they +walked home together. + +The play-bill happened to be on the table when they entered, and it +caught the eye of both George and Mr. Brunton at once. + +"Where did you get that from?" asked George, colouring, not with the +honest flush of self-respect, but with the burning sense of deceit +detected. + +"I found it in your pocket, George; and as I have never found one there +before, I thought I would leave it out, to ask you how you came by it." + +"I came by it the other night, when I went to the theatre," said George; +for he could not tell a direct falsehood. "I did not tell you of it at +the time, but led you to suppose that I had been at the institution." + +Mrs. Weston was indeed sorry to hear George's account of what had +passed; but Mr. Brunton felt all his old confidence in George restored +by the open, genuine statement he made. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton, "I know you are old enough to manage your +affairs for yourself, without an uncle's interference, but do take from +me one word of caution. I fear you may be led unwittingly into error by +your associates. Do be on your guard--'if sinners entice thee, consent +thou not.' If you feel it right, and can conscientiously go with them +and adopt their habits, I have no right, nor should I wish to advise +you; but if you feel that you are wrong in what you do, listen to the +voice of your better self, and pause to consider. Do not turn a deaf +ear to its entreaties, but be admonished by its counsel, and rather +sacrifice friends and pleasure than that best of all enjoyments--the +satisfaction of acting a part of duty to God and yourself." + +George did not argue the point with his uncle; he felt himself in the +wrong, but could not see his way clear to get right again. + +"I have made so many resolves in my short life," he said, "and have +broken them so often, that I will not pledge myself to making fresh ones +My error, in this instance, has not been the fault of my companionships, +but entirely my own; and, as far as I can see, the chief blame lies in +having concealed the matter from my mother, which I did principally out +of kindness to her. But I will endeavour to take your counsel, uncle." + +Weeks passed away, and with them the vivid memories of that time. George +had at length reasoned himself into the idea that a great deal of +unnecessary fuss had been made about nothing, and instead of weaning +himself from the society of Ashton, they became more than ever thrown +into each other's company. George was a constant attendant at the +institution, where he was surrounded by a large circle of intimate +acquaintances, with whom much of his time was spent. In the office he +had risen in the estimation of the clerks. Williams and Lawson, finding +that opposition was unavailing, altered their conduct towards him, and +became as civil and obliging as they had before been insulting and +disagreeable. George began to think he had belied their characters from +not having known sufficient of them; and instead of shunning them, as he +had hitherto done, sometimes took a stroll with them in the evening +after office hours, and once or twice had dined with them at the King's +Head. + +Imperceptibly, George began to alter. Sooner or later, evil +communications must corrupt good manners; and from continually beholding +the lives of his companions, without possessing that one thing needful +to have kept him free from the entanglement of their devices, he became +changed into the same image, by the dangerous power of their influence +and example. + +A month or two after the theatre adventure, Mrs. Weston received an +invitation to spend a week or two in the country with some relatives, +whom she had not seen for several years. Mr. Brunton persuaded her to +accept it, as the change would be beneficial; and George, knowing how +seldom his mother had an opportunity for recreation, added all his +powers of argument to induce her to go. The only obstacle presenting +itself was the management of the house during her absence. Mr. Brunton +invited George to stay with him while Mrs. Weston would be away; and she +did not like to leave her servant alone in the house with the boarders. +It was at last arranged that George should decline Mr. Brunton's +invitation, and have the oversight of the house during his mother's +absence. + +The first night after her departure, George brought Hardy home with him +to spend the evening, and a pleasant, quiet time they had together. + +"It will be rather dull for you, George," said Hardy, "if Mrs. Weston is +going to remain away for a few weeks. What shall you do on Sunday? You +had better come and spend the day with us." + +"No, I cannot do that, because I promised I would be here, to let the +servant have an opportunity of going to church. But I mean to ask Ashton +to come and spend the day here, and you will come too; and there's +Dixon, he is a nice fellow, I'll ask him to come as well." + +"What is to be the programme for the day?" said Hardy. "Of course it +will be a quiet one." + +"We will all go to church or chapel in the morning, spend the afternoon +together at home, and take a stroll in the evening after the service. +Are you agreed?" + +"I think we shall have a very nice day of it. Let the other chaps know +of it early, and we will meet here in good time in the morning." + +Sunday came, and George's friends arrived as he expected. They were +early, and had time for a chat before starting out. + +"Where shall we go this morning?" asked George. "There is a very good +minister close by at the church, and another equally good at the chapel. +My principles are unsectarian, and I do not mind where it is we go." + +"Don't you think," said Dixon, "we might do ourselves more good by +taking a stroll a few miles out of town, and talking out a sermon for +ourselves?" + +"I am inclined to the belief that nature is the best preacher," Ashton +remarked. "We hear good sermons from the pulpit, it is true; but words +are poor things to teach us of the Creator, in comparison with +creation." + +"I do not agree with you in your religious sentiments, Ashton, as you +know," said George. "Creation tells us nothing about our Saviour, and, +as I read the Scriptures, no man can know God, the Father and Great +Creator, but through Him." + +"And yet, if I remember rightly, the Saviour said that He made the +world, and without Him was not anything made that was made--so that He +was the Creator; and when we look from nature up to nature's God we see +Him, and connecting His history with the world around us, we have in +creation, as I said before, the best sermon; aye, and what the parsons +call a 'gospel' sermon, too." + +"I agree with you," said Dixon; "preaching is all very well in its way, +and I like a good sermon; but the words of man can never excel the works +of God." + +"A proper sermon," replied George, "is not uttered in the words of man; +they are God's words applied and expounded. Nature may speak to the +senses, but the Scriptures alone speak to the heart; and that is the +object of preaching. But you are my visitors, and you shall decide the +point." + +"Then I say a stroll," said Ashton. + +"And so do I," chimed in Dixon. + +"I am for going to a place of worship," said Hardy. + +"And so am I," Ashton replied; "is not all God's universe a place of +worship?" + +"Perhaps so," answered Hardy; "but I mean the appointed and proper +place, where those who try to keep holy the Sabbath day are accustomed +to meet--a church or chapel." + +"I side with Hardy," said George. "But I am willing to meet you halfway. +If I go with you this morning, you must all promise to go with me in the +evening. But bear in mind I am making a concession, and I go for a +stroll under protest, because it is contrary to my custom." + +"All right, old chap," said Ashton. "I never knew anybody's conscience +fit them so uneasily as yours does. But it always did; at school, you +were a martyr to it, and I believe the blame lies at the door of dear +old Dr. Seaward, who persisted in training us up in the way we should +go, just as if we were all designed to be parsons." + +"Poor old Dr. Seaward!" said George. "If he only knew two of his old +scholars were going out for a stroll on Sunday morning to hear nature +preach, I believe his body would hardly contain his troubled spirit." + +"And he would appear before us to stop us on our way--" + +"Like the spirit before Balaam and his ass, seems the most appropriate +simile," said Dixon, "for, if I recollect rightly, Balaam was going +where he should not have gone, and his conscience gave him as much +trouble as Weston's does." + +George did not think and say, as Balaam did, "I have sinned;" but he +felt the sting of ridicule, and determined he would allow no +conscientious scruple to bring it upon him again during that day. + +"After all," he argued with himself, "what is the use of my being +conscientious, for I am so wretchedly inconsistent? I had better go all +one way, or all the other, instead of wavering between the two, and +perpetually showing my weakness." + +It would have puzzled any one to have told what sermon nature preached +to that merry party, as they wandered through green fields and quiet +lanes, talking upon a hundred different subjects, and making the calm +Sabbath morn ring with the strains of their laughter. + +"Your idea of creation's voice is better in theory than in practice," +George said, when they returned home. "Can any of you tell me what the +text was which nature took to preach from, for I have no distinct +remembrance of it?" + +"The text seemed to me to be this," said Dixon, "that 'to everything +there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens--a time +to weep and a time to laugh--a time to keep silence and a time to +speak;' and the application was, that we had chosen the right time for +enjoying much speaking and much laughing." + +The afternoon was not spent as George had been accustomed to spend it. +Light, frivolous conversation, and still more dangerous debate upon +religious subjects, without religious feeling, occupied the time, and +George felt glad when the evening came, and they started off together to +hear a popular preacher, whose merits they had been discussing during +the afternoon. + +On their way thither they passed a large building, into which several +people were entering, and as the outside of the place was ornamented +with handbills, they paused to read them. They ran thus:-- + + "HALL OF SCIENCE.--A Lecture will be delivered in this Hall on + Sunday evening, at half past six, by Professor Martin, on 'The Uses + of Reason.' Young men are cordially invited to attend. + + "What is truth? Search and see." + +"Do you know anything of this Professor Martin?" asked Dixon. "Is he +worth hearing?" + +"A friend of mine told me he had heard him, a little while ago, and was +never better pleased with any lecture," Ashton answered. "Shall we put +up here for the evening?" + +"Is he a preacher, or a mere lecturer?" asked George. The question +attracted the attention of a person entering the Hall; and, turning to +George, he answered:-- + +"Professor Martin is one of those best of all preachers. He can interest +without sending you to sleep, and his discourses are full of sound +wisdom. He is a lover of truth, and advocates the only way to arrive at +it, which is by unfettered thought. In his lectures he puts his theory +into practice by freely expressing his unfettered thoughts. I have seats +in the front of the lecture-room; if you will favour me by accepting +them, they are at your service." + +The plausible and polite manner of the stranger was effectual with +George. + +"I don't think we can do better than go in and hear what the lecturer +has to say," he said to the others. And, assent being given, they +followed the stranger, and were conducted to the proffered seats. + +The audience consisted principally of men, the majority of whom were +young and of an inferior class, such as shopmen and mechanics. There was +a large platform, with chairs upon it, but no pulpit or reading-desk. +When the lecturer, accompanied by a chairman and some friends, entered, +George and his companions were surprised to hear a clapping of hands and +stamping of feet, similar to the plan adopted at public amusements. + +"This does not seem much like a Sunday evening service," said George. +"We have time to leave, if you like; or shall we stay and see it out?" + +"Oh! let us stay," replied the others. + +No hymn was sung, no prayer was offered at the commencement, but the +lecturer, with a pocket Bible in his hands, quoted a few passages of +Scripture, as follows:-- + +"Come now, and let us reason together,"--Isa. i. 18; "I applied mine +heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, and to know the +reason of things,"--Eccles. vii. 25; "And Paul, as his manner was, went +in unto them, and three Sabbath days reasoned with them out of the +Scriptures,"--Acts xvii. 2; "Be ready alway to give an answer to every +man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,"--1 Peter iii. +15. + +The object of the lecturer was to show that no intelligent being could +receive truth unless that truth commended itself to reason, because the +two were never in opposition one with the other. Conscience, he said, +was the soul's safeguard, and reason the safeguard of the heart and +intellect. It was irrational to condemn any course of conduct which +conscience approved, and it was equally irrational to believe anything +that could not be understood. The Word of God might be useful in its +way, but only as studied with unfettered thought. If that Word exalted +reason and then taught inconsistencies and absurdities, reason must +discriminate between the right and the wrong. "For example," he +continued, "if that book tells me that there are three Gods, and yet +those three are one, I reason by analogy and say, here are three +fingers; each one has its particular office; but I cannot make these +three fingers one finger, neither can I make three Gods one God." + +So the lecturer continued, but he did not put his case in so many plain +words as these; every argument he clothed with doubtful words, so as to +make falsehood look like truth, and blasphemy like worship. He was an +educated and intelligent man, gifted with that dangerous power of +preaching the doctrine of devils in the guise of an angel of light, and +handling deadly sophistry with as firm a grasp as if it were the sword +of the Spirit. + +At the conclusion of the lecture he announced his intention to speak +from that platform again on the following Sunday, and invited all who +were inquiring the way of truth to be present, and judge what he said, +"whether it be right, or whether it be wrong." + +As George and his friends were leaving the hall, the stranger, who had +accosted them before, came up, and bowing politely said-- + +"Will you allow me to offer you the same seats, for next Sunday evening? +If you will say yes, I will reserve them for you; otherwise you may have +difficulty in obtaining admission, for the room will, in all +probability, be more crowded than to-night, as Professor Martin was not +announced to lecture until late in the week, and the friends who +frequent the Hall had no notice of his being here." + +"I will certainly come," said Ashton. "I never heard a speaker I liked +better. What say you?" he asked, turning to the others. + +"I am anxious to hear the conclusion of the argument," said George; "so +we will accept your invitation," he added to the stranger, "and thank +you for your kindness and courtesy." + +It was a long conversation the friends had as they strolled along that +evening. To George every argument the lecturer had brought forward was +new; and bearing, as they did, the apparent stamp of truth, he was +utterly confounded. Although he was a good biblical scholar, as regarded +the historical and narrative parts of the Scriptures, he was but ill +informed on those more subtle points which the lecturer handled. He had +never heard the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, disputed, and had +always implicitly believed it; now, when the lecturer quoted Scripture +to prove that truth was to be analysed by reason, and reason rejected +the idea of a Trinity, he was as unable to reconcile the two as if he +had never received any religious instruction at all. + +"If what he advances be true," said George, "how irrational many things +in the Christian religion are! And how singular that men like him, who +'search into the reason of things' for wisdom, and hold opinions +contrary to the orthodox notions of those whom we call Christians, +should be looked upon with suspicion and distrust." + +"No," replied Ashton; "he met that idea by saying that it was not more +than singular, in the early stages of science, for people to be burnt as +witches and magicians, because they made discoveries which are now +developed and brought into daily use, than it is now for men to be +scouted as infidel and profane, because they teach opinions which only +require investigation to make them universally admitted." + +An unhappy day was that Sunday for George Weston. He had violated +principle, made concessions against the dictates of conscience (how poor +a safeguard for him!) and had learnt lessons which taught him to despise +those instructions which had hitherto been as a lamp unto his feet and a +light unto his path. + +"Blessed is the man that _walketh_ not in the counsel of the ungodly, +nor _standeth_ in the way of sinners, nor _sitteth_ in the seat of the +scornful." George little thought how rapidly he was passing through +those different stages on the downward road. Had he never listened to +the council of the ungodly, he would not have walked in the way of evil, +but would have avoided even its very appearance; he would not have stood +in the way of sinners, parleying with temptations, as he had done on so +many occasions; nor would he have occupied that most dangerous of all +positions, the fatal ease of sitting in the seat of the scornful. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +GETTING ON IN THE WORLD. + + +"Mr. Compton wishes to speak with you, Weston," said Mr. Sanders, the +manager, to George one morning, during the visit of Mrs. Weston in the +country. + +"Good morning, Weston," said Mr. Compton; "I want to have a few minutes' +conversation with you: sit down. You have been in my office now more +than a twelvemonth, and I promised that you should have an increased +salary at the expiration of that time. Your services have been very +valuable to me during the past year, and I am in every way satisfied +with you. As a tangible proof of this, I beg your acceptance of this +little present," (handing him a ten-pound note,) "and during this year +on which you have entered, I shall have much pleasure in giving you a +salary of two guineas a week." + +"I am exceedingly obliged to you sir," George stammered out, for he was +flabbergasted at the kindness of his employer; "I hope I may always +continue to do my duty in your office, and deserve your approbation." + +"I hope so, too;" said Mr. Compton, "both for your sake and for my own. +If you continue as you have begun, there is a fair field before you, and +I will advance you as opportunity occurs. Now, apart from business, I +want one word with you. I kept you purposely last year upon a low +salary, because I have found that sometimes it is beneficial to young +men to have only a small income. With your increased salary, you will +have increased means for entering that style of life which is, +unfortunately, too universal with young men--I mean the gaieties and +dissipations of a London life are now more open to you than they were +before. But what is termed a 'fast' young man never makes a good clerk, +and I do hope you will not allow yourself to fail into habits which will +be obstacles to your future promotion." + +"I will endeavour, sir, always to maintain my position in your office," +said George; "and I feel very grateful to you for the interest you take +in my personal welfare." + +George was in high spirits with his good fortune. He had not expected +more than a guinea, or at the utmost thirty shillings a week increase +for his second year, and had never dreamt of receiving so handsome a +present as £10. By that night's post he sent off a long letter to his +mother, giving her an account of the interview, and of his future +prospects. + +But George had different ideas about his future now, to those he +cherished a twelvemonth back. Then he thought only of himself and his +mother; how happy they would be together, and how much he would +endeavour to contribute to her enjoyment. Now he congratulated himself +that he would be upon a footing with his friends, that he could do as +they did, and that he had the means to follow up those recreations which +were becoming habitual to him. For since Mrs. Weston had been away, +George had gone step by step further on unhallowed ground. Even Ashton +said, "Weston, you are coming it pretty strong, old fellow!" and Hardy +had declared that he could not keep pace with him. Night after night, as +he had no one at home to claim his presence there, he had been to +theatres and other places of amusement. Sunday after Sunday he had +attended the lectures at the Hall of Science, and abandoning himself to +the tide which was hurrying him along, he floated down the dangerous +stream. + +The principles of infidelity which had been inculcated, appealed to him +with a voice so loud as to drown the appeals from a higher source. The +one approved his conduct, the other condemned it--the one pointed to the +world as a scene of enjoyment, the other as at enmity with God. George +felt that if he would hold one he must resign the other. He had not that +moral courage, or rather he had not the deep-rooted conviction of sin, +or the earnest love and fear of God, to enable him to burst through the +entanglements of the world and the world's god, and choosing whom he +would serve: he loved darkness rather than light. + +When Mrs. Weston returned, after a month's absence, she could not but +observe an alteration in George. Although he never told her of his +attendance at the lectures on Sunday, or the arguments he had had with +friends who held infidel opinions, she soon perceived that George's +feelings were undergoing a rapid and dangerous change. Those subjects on +which he was once in the habit of conversing with her, he now carefully +shunned. He was affectionate and kind to his mother still, and loved her +with all his old intense love, but that ingenuous confidence which he +had always reposed in her was gone. Things that were dear to him now he +could not discuss with her; instead of telling her how he spent his +time, and what were his amusements, he avoided any mention of them. The +deception which he first practised on that night when he yielded to +Ashton's persuasion, was now a system. He reasoned the matter over with +himself: there could be no good in telling her; their opinions were +different; he would take his course, independently of hers. + +Uncle Brunton noticed the change; for to those who saw him seldom the +change was sudden. But to George, every day there seemed an epoch, and +he was unconscious of the rapidity with which old associations and ideas +cherished from childhood were thrown down and trampled upon by the new +feelings which had taken possession of him. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton to him one day, "I am growing uneasy about +you. I feel that I am not the same to you, nor you to me, we used to be, +only a few months back. I cannot tell the reason--cannot tell when the +difference commenced or how--but for some months past--ever since your +mother's visit to the country--there has been a want of that old +confidential, affectionate intercourse between us there used to be." + +"I was younger then," said George, "and the freshness of youthful +feeling and attachment may die away as we advance in years; but I am not +aware that I have ever given you occasion to say I do not love you +sincerely still, uncle. Your kindness to me never can, and never will be +forgotten." + +"Well, George, I cannot explain what I mean. I have a kind of feeling +about you that something is wrong which I cannot put into words. I fancy +that if I offer you a word of counsel, you do not receive it as you once +did; if I talk seriously with you, it does not make the same impression, +or touch the spring of the same feelings. You do not talk to me with the +old frankness and candour which made my heart leap, when I thanked God I +had got some one in the world to love, and who loved me. But perhaps I +wrong you, and expect too much from you." + +"No, not that, uncle. Frankness, candour, and love are due to you, and +while I have them they shall always be yours; and to prove it, I will +tell what I have never told any one before, what I have hardly spoken to +my own heart. I think of the George Weston you brought away from Dr. +Seaward's, who stood with you beside a father's deathbed, and who, +eighteen months ago, went into Mr. Compton's office; then I think of +George Weston of to-day, and I feel amazed at the change a few years has +made. I have asked myself a hundred times, am I really the same? Oh, +uncle! you do not know what I would give to be that boy again--to live +once more in that old world of sunshine." + +Tears started to George's eyes as he spoke, and Mr. Brunton could only +squeeze his hand, and say, "God bless you, my boy! God bless you!" + +A few days later Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston were one whole evening +together talking about George. Both hearts were heavy, but Mr. Brunton's +was the lighter of the two. + +"I tell you what I think will be the very best thing for you and for +George," he said, "It is now the early spring, and the country is +beginning to look fresh and green. Leave this house and take one in the +country. I think George can easily be made to accede to this +proposition--he was always fond of country life and recreations. He can +have a season ticket on the railway, and come down every night. This +will wean him from his associates, and induce him to keep earlier hours, +and give us, too, a better opportunity to lure him back to his old +habits of life." + +The arrangements were made. Mrs. Weston, with that loving self-denial +which only a mother can exercise, gave up the house, and her circle of +friends, and took up her residence in the country, about twenty miles +from London. George was pleased with the change, and acquiesced in all +the plans which were made. + +About this time, an event happened of considerable importance in the +family history. An old relative of Mrs. Weston's, from whom she had +monetary expectations, died; and upon examination of the will, it was +found that a legacy had been left her of about three thousand pounds, +which was safely invested, and would bring to her an income of nearly a +hundred and fifty pounds a year. + +This was a cause of fear and rejoicing to Mrs. Weston--fear, lest it +should be a snare to George, as he would now have the whole of his +salary at his own disposal, there being no longer any necessity for her +to share it; rejoicing, that she should be able to give him that start +in life which had always been the desire and ambition of Mr. Weston. + +A few months' trial of Mr. Brunton's plan for weaning George from the +allurements of society in London, by taking a house in the country, +proved it to be a failure. For the first month, George went down almost +immediately after leaving business, but it was only for the first month. +Gradually it became later and later, until the last train was generally +the one by which he travelled. Then it sometimes occurred that he lost +the last train, and was obliged to stay at an hotel in town for the +night. At length, this occurred so frequently, that sometimes for three +nights out of the week he never went home at all. On one of these +occasions, a party of gentlemen in the commercial room of the hotel +where he was staying proposed a game of cards, and asked George to make +one at a rubber of whist. George had often played with his own friends, +but never before with total strangers. However, without any hesitation, +he accepted the invitation, and yielded to the proposition that they +should play sixpenny points. The game proceeded, rubber after rubber was +lost and won, and when George rose from the card-table at a late hour he +was loser to the amount of thirty shillings. + +"There is no playing against good cards," said George; "and the run of +luck has been in your favour to-night; but I will challenge you to +another game to-morrow evening, if you will be here?" + +The next night George played again, and won back a pound of the money +he had lost on the preceding evening. This was encouraging. "One more +trial," said George to himself, "and nobody will catch me card-playing +for money again with strangers." But that one more trial was the worst +of all. George lost three pounds! He could ill afford it; as it was he +was living at the very extent of his income, and three pounds was a +large sum. He was obliged to give an I O U for the amount, and in the +meantime borrow the sum from one of his friends. + +"Hardy, have you got three pounds to lend me?" he asked, next morning; +"you shall have it again to-morrow." + +"I have not got that sum with me," said Hardy, "but I can get it for +you. Is it pressing?" + +"Yes; I had a hand at cards last night, and lost." + +"What! with Ashton?" + +"No; with some strangers at the hotel where I have hung out for the last +night or two." + +"You shall have that sum early this evening, George; and twice that +amount, if you will make me one promise. I ask it as an old friend, who +has a right to beg a favour. Give up card-playing, don't try to win back +what you have lost; no good can possibly come of it" + +"Is Saul among the prophets?" asked George, with something like a +sneer. + +"No, George Weston: but a looker-on at chess sees more of the game than +the player; and I have been looking at your last few moves in the game +of life, without taking part with you, and I see you will be checkmated +soon, if you do not alter your tactics. I can't blame you, nor do I wish +to, if I could; but when I first heard you had taken to card playing, I +did feel myself among the prophets then, and prophesied no good would +come of it." + +"When you first heard of my card playing?" asked George. "When did you +hear of it?" + +"A few days since. My father came up from the country by a late train +one night, and stayed at the hotel you patronize. There he saw you, and +told me about it." + +"Confound it! a fellow can't do a thing, even in this great city, +without somebody ferretting it out. But I don't mean to play again. I +have made a fool of myself too many times already; and it serves me +right that I have lost money." + +That evening, while George was making his way to the hotel, a lady was +journeying towards the railway station. An hour later, she was at the +house of Mrs. Weston, and was shown into the drawing-room. + +"I must apologise," said Mrs. Hardy, for it was she, "in calling upon +you at this hour: but I am very anxious to have some conversation with +you." + +"It is strange," said Mrs. Weston, "that as our sons have been intimate +so long, we should have continued strangers; but I am very delighted to +see you, Mrs. Hardy, for I have heard much of you." + +"It is with regard to the intercourse between your son and mine that I +have called. I do not wish to alarm you; but I feel it right that you +should be in possession of information I have of your son." + +Mrs. Hardy then narrated the circumstances connected with her husband's +visit to the hotel on the evening when he found George there card +playing. + +"This evening," she continued, "my son returned home earlier than usual, +and went to his drawer, where I saw him take out some money--two or +three sovereigns. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and after +some difficulty I ascertained he intended lending it to your son. It +occurred to me at once that George Weston was in trouble with those men; +and I thought it only right that you should know." + +It was kind of Mrs. Hardy to shew this interest, and Mrs. Weston +esteemed her for it. But had they stood beside the table at which George +was seated while they were talking, or could they have seen the flush of +excitement as he threw down the cards, exclaiming, "By Jove! I've lost +again!" and have watched the flashing eye and heaving breast, they would +have felt, even more keenly than they did, how futile were words or +sympathies to check the evil. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP. + + +We pass over two years of George Weston's life--years full of strange +experiences--and look into the office in Falcon-court one morning in the +summer of 18--. + +Mr. Compton is away on the Continent for a holiday tour, Mr. Sanders is +still the manager, and nearly all the same old faces are in the office. +George, who is now verging on the legal age of manhood, has risen to a +good position in the establishment, and is regarded as second only to +Mr. Sanders. He is wonderfully altered from when we saw him first in +that office. He is still handsome; but the old sparkling lustre of his +eye has gone, and no trace of boyishness is left. + +Hardy is still there. Two years have not made so much difference in him +as George. He looks older than he really is; but there is no mistaking +him for the quiet, gentlemanly Charles Hardy of former days. Lawson and +Williams are there, coarse and bloated young men, whose faces tell the +history of their lives. Hardy rarely exchanges a word with them. George +does more frequently, but not with the air of superiority he once did. + +A close observer would have noticed in George that morning a careworn +anxious look; would have heard an occasional sigh, and have seen him at +one time turning pale, and again flushing with a crimson red. + +"You are not well," said Hardy. "You have not done a stroke of work all +this morning; quite an unusual thing for you, George." + +"I am not well," he replied; "but it is nothing of importance. I shall +get Mr. Sanders to let me off for an hour's stroll when he comes in from +the Bank." + +Mr. Sanders came in from the Bank, but he was later than usual. His +round generally occupied an hour; this morning he had been gone between +two and three. George watched him anxiously as he took off his hat, +rubbed his nose violently with his pocket handkerchief, and stood gazing +into the fire, ejaculating every now and then, as was his custom if +anything extraordinary or disagreeable had happened, "Ah! umph!" + +"The old boy has found out that the wind has veered to the northeast, +or has stepped upon some orange peel," whispered Lawson to Williams, who +saw that something had gone wrong with the manager. + +"Your proposed stroll will be knocked on the head," said Hardy to +George. "Mr. Sanders is evidently in an ill humour." + +"I shall not trouble him about it," said George; "shirking work always +worries him, and he seems to be worried enough as it is." + +When Mr. Sanders had gazed in the fire for half an hour, and had walked +once or twice up and down the office, as his manner was on such +occasions, he turned to George and said, "I want to speak with you in +the next room." + +"I wish you a benefit, Weston," said Williams as he passed. "Recommend +him a day or two in the country, for the good of his health and our +happiness." + +"Mr. Weston," said the manager, when George had shut the door and seated +himself, "I am in great difficulties. This event has happened at a most +unfortunate time, Mr. Compton is away, and I don't know how to act for +the best. Will you give me your assistance in the matter?" + +"Cannot you make the accounts right, sir?" asked George. "I thought you +had satisfactorily arranged them last night." + +"No, Weston; I have been through them over and over again, but I cannot +get any nearer to a balance. I have been round to the Bank this morning +again, and have seen Mr. Smith about it, but he cannot assist me. +However, inquiries will be made this afternoon, and all our accounts +carefully checked and examined; in the meantime, I wish you would have +out the books and go through them for me. Hardy can assist you, if you +like." + +"I will do all I can for you, to make this matter right," said George; +"but I can do it better alone. If you will give Hardy the job I was +about, I will check the books here by myself." + +All that afternoon George sat alone in Mr. Compton's room surrounded +with books and papers. But he did not examine them. Resting his head +upon his hands, he looked upon them and sighed. Now the perspiration +stood in big drops upon his forehead and his hands trembled. Then he +would walk up and down the room, halting to take deep draughts of water +from a bottle on the table. + +Mr. Sanders occasionally looked in to ask how he was going on, and if he +had discovered the error. + +"No," said George; "the accounts seem right; but I cannot make them +agree with the cash-book. There is still a hundred pounds short; but I +will go through them again if you like." + +"Perhaps you had better. I expect Mr. Smith here by six o'clock; will +you remain with me and see him? He may assist us." + +"Certainly," said George; "I feel as anxious as you do about the matter, +for all the bills and cheques have passed through my hands as well as +yours; and I shall not rest easy until the missing amount is +discovered." + +Mr. Smith arrived just as the clerks were leaving the office, and Mr. +Sanders and George were alone with him. + +"Well," said Mr. Smith, "we have gone carefully over every item to-day, +and at last the defalcation is seen. This cheque," he continued, +producing the document, "is forged. The signature is unquestionably Mr. +Compton's, but the rest of the writing is counterfeit." + +"A forged cheque!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, aghast; "impossible!" + +"There must be some mistake here," said George, "the accounts in our +books, if I recollect rightly, correspond with the cheques; but--" + +"It is a clumsily arranged affair, although the forgery is a +masterpiece of penmanship," said Mr. Smith; "and if it passes first +through your office, and is entered in your books with the false amount, +it is clear that some one in your employ has committed the offence. I +leave the matter now with you for the present," he added, to Mr. +Sanders; "of course you will put the case at once into the proper medium +and find out the offender." + +When Mr. Smith had gone, George sat down again in the seat he had +occupied during that long afternoon, pale and exhausted. + +"This is a lamentable business," said Mr. Sanders, pacing the room, "a +lamentable business, indeed! I confess I am completely baffled. Mr. +Weston, I look to you for assistance. Can you form any idea how this +matter has come about? Have you suspicion of any of the clerks?" + +"I am equally at a loss with you how to manage in this case. I have no +reason to doubt the integrity of any one in this office. Except one," +said George, as if a sudden idea had come to his mind. "Yes, I have a +suspicion of one; but I cannot tell even you who it is, until I have +made inquiries sufficient to warrant the suspicion. Can you let the +affair rest over to-night, and in the meantime I will do what I can, and +confer with you in the morning." + +"That seems the only plan," answered Mr. Sanders. "If I can render any +assistance in making these inquiries, I will." + +"No, thank you, you will have trouble enough in the matter as it is; and +I can do what I have to do better alone." + +Half an hour after this conversation, a cab was travelling at the utmost +speed along the Clapham road. It stopped at the house of Harry Ashton, +and George alighted. + +"Ashton," said he, "I want to speak to you for two minutes. I have got +into trouble; don't ask me how, or in what way. Unless I can borrow a +hundred pounds to-night, I am ruined. Can you get it for me?" + +"My dear George, sit down and calm yourself, and we will talk the matter +over," said Ashton. "It strikes me you are up to some joke, or you would +never suppose that I, an assistant surveyor with a present limited +income, could fork out a hundred pounds down as a hammer. + +"I am not joking. I dare not explain more. I require your confidence for +what I have already said; but I know you have money, and moneyed +friends. Can you get it for me anyhow, from anywhere?" + +"No, I cannot, and that's plump," answered Ashton; "it is the end of the +quarter, and I have not more than ten pounds in my pocket You are +welcome to that, if it is any good; but I cannot go into the country to +my father's to-night, that is very certain; and if I could, he would not +advance so much without knowing exactly what it was for; nor should I +care to lend that sum, even to you, George, unless I knew what you were +going to do with it, and when I should see it back. If it is so +pressing, you might have my ten, ten more from Dixon, and I could get a +pound or two from other sources." + +"No, that would take too long, and I have but an hour or two to make the +arrangements." As he spoke, George fell into a chair, and buried his +face in his hands. + +"What, George, my old pippin, what is the matter?" said Ashton, going to +him. "You have lost at cards again, I suppose: but take heart, man, +never get out of pluck for such a thing as that. But you are ill, I know +you are, you are as white as a sheet. Here, take tins glass of brandy." + +"I only feel faint." said George, rising. "I shall be all right when I +get out into the open air. Good-bye, Ashton, my old school-chum, we +shall never meet again after to-night; but I shan't forget our happy +days together--I mean the days at Dr. Seaward's--they were the happy +ones, after all." + +"George, you are ill, and your brain is touched. Not meet again after +to-night? Nonsense, we don't part so easily, if that is the case;" and +Ashton locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. + +"Unfasten that door!" almost shouted George; "you do not know my +strength at this moment, and I might do you some harm; but I should not +like to part with my oldest friend like that. Open the door!" + +"Not a bit of it," answered Ashton. "Tell me more particulars, and I +will try what I can do in getting the money." + +"No; you have told me you cannot. I have one more chance elsewhere; let +me try that. Ashton, do not be a fool; open that door, and let me go." + +"Then I will go with you," answered Ashton; and he unlocked the door. +But while he turned to get his hat, George rushed from the room, opened +the hall-door, and, closing it again upon Ashton, jumped into the cab +awaiting him, and giving the word, "Islington, quick!" drove off, +leaving his friend in the road, running after the vehicle, and calling +upon the driver to stop. + +"Don't mind him," George called to the man; "an extra five shillings for +driving quickly." + +Ashton was at his wit's end. He ran on, till he could run no longer. +Just then, an empty cab passing, he hailed the driver. + +"Drive after that cab in front," said Ashton, as he got in; "follow it +wherever it goes. Sharp's the word, man!" + +It was a long time before the traffic in the roads allowed Ashton's cab +to overtake the one ahead; but both came up nearly abreast in the +Waterloo road, and then the one he was pursuing turned abruptly towards +the railway station. + +"Ah! George, my old fellow," said Ashton to himself, "you little think I +have been so closely on your scent; but I knew I had not seen the last +of you." + +Both cabs drew up at the station steps together. Ashton jumped out, and +ran to meet George; but blank was his astonishment to see an oldish lady +and her attendant alight from the vehicle, which he had imagined +contained his friend! + +We will leave Ashton at the Waterloo station in a mortified and +disconsolate state, quarrelling with the driver for having pursued the +wrong cab, and follow George Weston to Islington. + +"Hardy," he said, as soon as he found himself alone with his friend, +"are you willing to help me, to save me, perhaps, from ruin? I want to +raise a hundred pounds to-night. I must have it. Do you think you can get +it for me?" + +"Me get a hundred pounds? Why, George, my friend, you know the thing is +a clear impossibility. I could not get it, if it were to save my own +life. But why is it so urgent?" he asked. + +"You will know in a day or two. I have now one resource left, and only +one. Will you go to-night to my uncle, Mr. Brunton. Tell him that I want +to save a friend from ruin, and want to borrow a hundred and fifty +pounds, which shall be faithfully repaid. Do not give him to understand +I want it for myself, but that it is for a friend dear to him and to me. +Use every argument you can, and above everything persuade him not to +make any inquiries about it at present. Say I shall have to take part of +it into the country to-morrow morning, and I will see him or write to him +in the evening. Say anything you like, so that you can get the money +for me, and prevent him coming to the office to-morrow morning." + +"George, I am afraid you have got into some bad business again," said +Hardy. "You know I am willing to help you; but I cannot do so, if it is +to encourage you in getting yourself into still greater trouble." + +"This is the last time, Hardy, I shall ever ask a favour of you. Do +assist me; you cannot guess the consequences if you do not." + +"Then tell me, George, what it is that is upsetting you. I never saw you +look so wild and excited before. You can confide in me, old fellow; we +have always kept each other's counsel." + +"To-morrow you shall know all. Now, do start off at once, and see what +you can do. If you cannot bring all the money, bring what you can. Put +the case urgently to my uncle; he cannot refuse me. I will be here again +in about three hours' time; it will not take you longer than that." + +Hardy took a cab, and drove off at once. George remained in the street; +he paced up and down, and took no rest--he was far too excited and +nervous for that. He had got a dangerous game to play, and his plans +were vague and shadowy. He had promised Mr. Sanders he would make +inquiries about the person he suspected had forged the cheque, and let +him know in the morning. His plan was to try and raise the money, pay it +to Mr. Sanders on account of the transgressor, and induce him to take no +further steps until Mr. Compton returned home. On no other ground would +he refund the money on behalf of the forger; and unless Mr. Sanders +would agree to these terms, George was determined the matter might take +its own way, and be placed in the hands of the magistrates or police. + +The hours seemed like days to George while Hardy was on his mission. At +length he returned. + +"What success?" asked George running to meet him as soon as he came in +view. + +"Your uncle is in a terrible state of alarm on your account," replied +Hardy, "and I fear he will be at the office some time to-morrow, although +I tried to persuade him not to do so, because it was no matter in which +you were so deeply interested as he supposed. But he cannot lend you the +money, nor can he get the amount you want until to-morrow afternoon. +However he had fifty pounds with him, and he has sent that." + +George took it eagerly. "My plan must fail," he said to Hardy; "but it +would only have been a question of time after all. Hardy, you will hear +strange reports of me after to-morrow; do not believe them all; remember +your old friend as you once knew him, not as report speaks of him. +Good-night, old fellow, you have been a good friend to me. I wish we +could have parted differently." + +"Parted!" ejaculated Hardy; "what do you mean? where are you going?" + +"I cannot tell, but I shall see you at the office to-morrow morning as +usual; I will tell you more then. Do not say a word to anybody about +what has occurred to-night. I know I may trust you; may I not?" + +"Yes, always," answered Hardy; "but I wish you would trust me a little +more, and let me share this trouble with you. We have been old friends +now for years, George; shared ups and downs, and joys and sorrows +together; been brothers in everything which concerned each other's +welfare: and now you are distressed, why not relieve yourself by letting +me bear part of it with you? Recollect our old and earliest days of +friendship, and show that they are still dear to you, as they are to me, +by telling me what has gone wrong with you, and how I can serve or +soothe you in the emergency." + +George could not bear this last touch of kindness. Had Hardy reproached +him for having acted foolishly, or warned him from getting into future +trouble; had he even accused him of having sought to lead others astray, +besides wandering in downward paths himself, George could have listened +calmly and unmoved! but this out-going of his friend's heart overcame +him, and he burst into tears. + +"Good night, Hardy," he said, wringing his friend's hand. "If a prayer +may come from my lips, so long unused to prayer, I say God bless you, +and preserve you from such a lot as mine." George could not utter +another word; he could only shake hands again, and then hurried away to +the hotel where he sometimes slept. + +It was past midnight when he arrived there. Calling for some spirits and +water, and writing materials, he seated himself dejectedly at a table +and wrote. The first letter ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAREST MOTHER, + + "I have some painful news to tell you--so painful that I would rather + you should have received intelligence of my death, than that which + this letter contains. I know you will not judge me harshly, dear + mother; I know you will stretch out to me your forgiveness, and + still pray for me that I may receive pardon from _your_ heavenly + Father--would I could say _mine_. + + "Step by step I have been going wrong, as you know--as I might have + known--and now I have sunk to the lowest depths, from which I shall + never rise again. Mother, I know the sorrow you will feel when you + hear what has happened. I grieve more for you than I do for myself; + I would give all the world, if I had it, to save your heart the + misery which awaits it, from the conduct of a worthless, rebellious + son. + + "I cannot bear to see that sorrow. My heart seems nearly broken as + it is, and it would quite break if I were to see you suffering as + you will suffer. + + "I could not bear to see again any whom I have known under other + circumstances. I could not bear to be taunted with all the + remembrances of the past. Dear mother, I have resolved to leave + you--leave London--perhaps leave England. I _may_ never see you + again; it is better for you that I never should. + + "My tears blind me as I write; if tears could cleanse the past, my + guilt would be soon removed. God bless you, dearest mother! I will + write to you again; and some day, after I have been into new scenes, + started anew in life, and won back again the character I have + lost--then, perhaps, I may once more see you again. + + "Uncle Brunton will tell you more. He will comfort you; he must be + husband, brother, and son to you now. + + "God bless you, my dearest mother! I have so wronged you, have been + such a continual trouble to you, instead of the comfort poor father + thought I should have been, and so unworthy of your love, that I + hardly dare hope you will forgive and forget the past, and still + pray for + + "Your erring Son-- + + "GEORGE WESTON." + +George then wrote two letters to Mr. Brunton. In one of them he thanked +him for all his care and kindness, passionately regretted the causes of +anxiety he had given him, and the disgrace which now attached to his +name. In the other, he begged the loan of the £50 sent to him through +Hardy, which, he said, he hoped to pay back in a few years. He also +requested that Mr. Brunton would arrange all his accounts, and pay them +either from his mother's income, or by advancing the money as a loan. + +When the morning dawned, it found George still writing. As the clock +struck seven, he packed up what few things he had with him, paid his +hotel bill, and drove off to Falcon-court. He was there by eight +o'clock, before any of the clerks had arrived. + +"Have the letters come?" he asked the housekeeper. + +"Yes, sir, they are in Mr. Compton's room," was the answer. + +George hastened into the room, looked through the packet, and alighting +upon a letter with a foreign post-mark addressed to Mr. Sanders in Mr. +Compton's handwriting, he broke the seal. The note was short, merely +saying that he had arrived in Paris, on his way home, and expected to be +back in a day or two; therefore any communications must be forwarded at +once, or he would have left Paris. + +George went direct to the Electric Telegraph Office. A form was handed +to him, on which the message he desired to send must be written, and he +filled it up thus:-- + + "_From Mr. Sanders to Mr. Compton_. + + "Come back at once. A cheque has been forged in your name for + _£100._ George Weston is the forger. It is a clear and aggravated + case. Shall he be arrested? Will you prosecute? Answer at once." + +In an incredibly short space of time an answer was returned. George was +at the Telegraph Office to receive it. + + "_From Mr. Compton to Mr. Sanders._ + + "I will return to-morrow. Take no steps in the matter; let it be + kept silent, I am deeply grieved, but I will not prosecute under any + circumstances." + +"Well, Mr. Weston," said Mr. Sanders, when George entered the office," +I expected you would have been here before; but I suppose you have had +some difficulty in your investigations?" + +"I have had difficulty," George answered. "I have been endeavouring to +borrow a hundred pounds to pay the deficiency, and then I would have +screened the forger; but my plan has failed, and it is better that it +should, because the innocent would have been sure to have suffered for +the guilty. I am now bound to tell you the name of the criminal upon his +own confession." + +"Who is it? who is it?" asked Mr. Sanders, eagerly. + +"I--George Weston," he answered. "No matter how I did it, or why; I +alone am guilty." + +Mr. Sanders caught hold of the back of a chair for support. His hands +trembled, and his voice failed him. + +"It is a shock to you, sir," said George; "and it will be a shock to Mr. +Compton. Give him this letter when he comes home, it will explain the +circumstances to him. I deeply regret that I should have caused you so +much anxiety as I have during the past week, while this inquiry has been +pending. I knew the truth must come out sooner or later--but I would +rather you should know it from me; crushed and ruined as I am, I have no +hope that you will look with any other feelings than those of abhorrence +on me, but you do not know the heavy punishment I have already suffered, +or you would feel for me." + +"Are you aware, George Weston, that there is a yet heavier punishment, +and that, as Mr. Compton's representative, I shall feel it my painful +duty to--" + +"No, sir; here is Mr. Compton's opinion upon the case," said George, +handing the telegraphic message to Mr. Sanders, who listened with +astonishment as he explained the circumstances. "But should Mr. Compton, +upon a careful examination into the case, wish to prosecute," he +continued, "I will appear whenever and wherever he pleases. And now, Mr. +Sanders, I leave this office, ruined and disgraced, the result of my own +folly and sin." + +George spoke hoarsely, and his face was pale as Death. Mr. Sanders was +moved; and put out his hand to shake hands with him, and say good-bye, +but George held his back. + +"Remember, sir, you are an honest man; you cannot shake hands with me," +said George. + +"Weston, I am not your judge; there is One who will judge not only this +act, but all the acts that have led to it," said Mr. Sanders, solemnly. +"I have had more interest and greater hopes in you than in any young man +who ever came into this office; and I feel more sorrow now, on your +account, than I can put into words. Do not let this great and disastrous +fall sink you into lower depths of sin. If you have forfeited man's +respect and esteem, there is a God with whom there is mercy and +forgiveness. Seek Him, and may He bless you! Good-bye, George Weston," +and the manager, with tears in his eyes, wrung the cold, trembling hand +that was stretched out to his. + +George took up his carpet-bag, which he had brought from the hotel, and +was about to leave, but he paused a moment. + +"Will you send Hardy in here?" he asked Mr. Sanders. "I must have a word +with him before I go." + +Hardy had been expecting all the morning to have some explanation from +George, and had been uneasy at his absence. When he went into Mr. +Compton's room he was surprised to see George, with his bag in his hand, +ready to make a departure. + +"Hardy," said George, "I told you last night I should soon have to bid +you good-bye, and now the time has arrived. I am going away from the +office, and perhaps from England, but I cannot tell you where I am +going. I leave in disgrace; my once good name is now blighted and +withered; my old friends will look upon me with abhorrence." + +"No, George, I am one of your old friends; I never shall," interrupted +Hardy. "I do not know what you have done, nor do I wish to know, but I +cannot believe your heart and disposition are changed, or will ever +change so much as to make me regard you in any other light than that of +a dear and valued friend. But where are you going, George? Do tell me +that." + +"No, Hardy, I cannot. I am going away, God only knows where; it may be +abroad, it may not. I am going somewhere where I shall not be known, and +where I can try to work back for myself a character and a good name, +which I can never redeem in London. Some day I may let you know where I +am." + +"But, George, does your mother know where you are going?" + +"No," said George, and his voice was tremulous as he spoke. "No; I have +no mother now. I am too fallen to claim relationship with one so good +and noble and holy as my mother is." + +"Oh, George, give up this wild scheme! Have you thought that you are +going the most direct way to break your mother's heart, and to make her +life, as well as your own, blank, solitary, and miserable? Whatever +wrong you have done, do not add to it by breaking that commandment which +bids us honour our parents. Your mother has claims upon you which you +have no right to disregard in this way." + +"I have thought it all well over, Hardy. I believe it is for her good +as well as for mine that our paths should run differently, but I cannot +explain all now. I am in dread lest my uncle should call here before I +get away. Hardy, good-bye, old fellow." + +"No, I cannot say good-bye yet. George, give me your address; promise to +let me see you again, and I will promise to keep your secret sacredly." + +"I do not know where I am going; I have no fixed plan; but I do promise +to write to you, Hardy." + +"And now, George, make me one other promise. If you are in difficulties, +and I can assist you, or do anything for you in any way, at any time, +you will let me know--remember I shall always be Charles Hardy to you, +and you will always be George Weston to me. Do you agree?" + +"Yes, Hardy, I agree. I cannot thank you. I cannot say what I would, or +tell you what I feel. May you be blessed and be happy, and never know +what it is to have a heavy, broken heart like mine. And now one promise +from you. Go and see my mother; try and comfort her; tell her how I +grieve to part from her." + +George could not continue; the nervous twitching of his face showed the +struggle within, and it was a relief when the hot tears broke through +and coursed down his cheek. Hardy was greatly affected. He loved George +with an intensity of love like that which knit together the soul of +Jonathan and David; he had been to him more than a brother ever since +they had been acquainted; in hours of business and recreation, in joys +and sorrows, in plans and aims, they had been one; and now the tie was +to be severed, and severed under such sad circumstances. + +There is a solemnity about sorrow which speech desecrates. Not another +word was spoken by either--both hearts were too full for that; but as +the tears ran thickly down their cheeks, they grasped each other's hand, +and then, fairly sobbing, George hurried from the office. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +IN EXILE. + + +George went direct from the office to the railway station, and took a +ticket to Plymouth. He had but a short time to wait before the train +left, and bore him away. The green fields and smiling country were +nothing to him; he felt no pleasure in seeing the merry, happy children +playing in the lanes, as the train whizzed past. The greetings of +friends on the platforms at the different stations only made him sigh. +Who would greet him on his journeys? Tired and worn out with sleepless +nights and anxious days, he tried to doze, but the attempt was vain. He +feared lest some one might have tracked his steps to the station, and +have telegraphed for him to be stopped at the terminus. Then, when he +had thought and pondered over such probabilities as these, and +endeavoured to dismiss them, he tried to form some plans for the future; +but all the future was dark--no ray of light, however faint or distant, +could be seen, and every plan he would make must be left to +circumstances. When the passengers alighted at one of the stations to +take refreshments, George got out too, for the purpose of breaking his +long fast. He tried to eat a biscuit, but he could not get it down,--all +appetite was gone; so, drinking a glass of ale, he wandered to the book +stall, and purchased a newspaper to read during the remainder of the +journey. The train started off again, and George settled himself to +read. The first thing that met his eye was an account of the assizes, +and the first case was headed, "Forgery by a Banker's Clerk." This +brought back to remembrance, more vividly than ever, the sad scenes of +the past few days; he threw the paper out of the window, and abandoned +himself to thought. + +At last the train arrived at Plymouth. George hastened on to the +platform, and walked rapidly into the town, fearing lest any one should +recognize him, or lest any official should wish to detain him. With his +bag in hand, he wandered through the streets, uncertain what to do or +where to go. Presently he came to a small house, in an obscure street, +with a placard in the window stating that apartments were to let. He +knocked, and was answered by the landlady, a respectable looking woman, +who told him that she had a bedroom and sitting-room to let, and would +accommodate him on reasonable terms. George said he should not require +the room more than a few days, or a week, as he was about to leave by +one of the vessels in the port. The terms were arranged, and he at once +took possession. As it was very late, he thought he would go to bed +without delay. + +"Will you not have some supper first?" asked the landlady. + +"No, thank you," said George: "I am tired with my journey, and shall be +glad to get to sleep as soon as I can." + +"But, sir, you really look ill," persisted the landlady, who was a kind, +motherly woman; "will you let me make you a little spirits and water?" + +"I will not refuse that," said George, "for I do feel ill. Parting with +friends and relatives is at all times a disagreeable matter, and I have +bidden good-bye to them in London to-day, rather than bring them down +here." + +"Ah, sir! parting is a sad thing," answered the woman. "It is two years +since my son went to sea; he was much about your age, sir, and he went +away against my wish, and I have never seen or heard from him since. He +has nearly broken my heart, poor boy, and left me all alone in this +wide, hard world." + +George was glad to have some one to talk to, but he was distressed by +this narration of his landlady. If she mourned for her son, who had been +absent for two years, how would his mother mourn? + +George passed a restless, anxious night; when he dozed off to sleep, it +was only to be tormented with harrowing dreams, in which he fancied +himself at one time standing before a judge in a court of justice, +answering to the crime of forgery. At another, gazing upon a funeral +procession moving slowly and solemnly along, with his Uncle Brunton +following as sole mourner. Then he would start up, half with joy and +half with sorrow, as he fancied he heard voices like those of his mother +and uncle calling to him from the street. His head ached, and his heart +was heavy. He felt thankful when the morning dawned, and it was time to +rise. He bathed his hot, feverish head in water, and dressed; but as he +passed by the looking-glass and caught a glance at his pale, haggard +countenance, so changed within a few short hours, he started. + +"Oh, God! give me strength! give me strength!" he said. "If I should be +ill, if anything should happen to me, what should I do? I am all alone; +there is no one to care for me now!" And he sank down in a chair, +burying his face in his hands as if to hide the picture his mind had +drawn. + +After breakfast, he strolled to the docks, looked over some of the +vessels, and made inquiries about the shipping offices. He learned that +a ship was about to sail immediately to Port Natal, and that all +information could be obtained of the agents. Thither George repaired; +the agent gave him an exaggerated account of the signal prosperity which +all enterprising young men met with in Natal, praised Pietermaritzburg, +the capital of the colony, and offered to give him letters of +introduction to residents there, who would advise him as to the best +ways of making a comfortable living. The agent then took him down to the +vessel, told him that he must take a passage at once, if he wished to +leave by her, as she would sail in two or three days at the latest. It +was a matter of comparative indifference to George where he went--the +large, lonely world was before him, and Port Natal might make him as +good a home as anywhere else. George went back with the agent to the +office, and paid a deposit of fifteen pounds on the passage money. + +"What is your name, sir?" asked the agent, with pen in hand, ready to +make the entry. + +George coloured as he answered, "Frederick Vincent." + +"Then, Mr. Vincent, you will be on board not later than nine o'clock on +Tuesday morning; the vessel will go out of harbour by twelve. You can +come on board as much earlier as you like, but I have named the latest +time. You had better send your luggage down on Monday." + +"Luggage?" said George. "Oh, yes! that shall be sent in time." + +As George returned to his lodgings, he felt even more wretched than when +he started out It was Wednesday morning, and the vessel would not leave +till the following Tuesday. The excitement of choosing a vessel was +over; there was now only the anxiety and suspense of waiting its +departure. True, he had his outfit to purchase, but this would have to +be done furtively; he could not bear to be walking in the streets in +broad daylight, noticed by passers-by, every one of whom he fancied knew +his whole history, and was plotting either to prevent his departure, or +to reveal his secret. + +Mrs. Murdoch (that was the name of his landlady) endeavoured to make him +as comfortable as possible in his apartments; but external comfort was +nothing to George--he wanted some word of love, some one to talk to, as +in days of old. He avoided conversation as much as possible with Mrs. +Murdoch, for she would talk of her absent son, and every word went as an +arrow to George's heart. + +That first day seemed a week. Hour after hour dragged wearily along, and +when six o'clock in the evening came, George thought all time must have +received some disarrangement, for it seemed as if days had elapsed since +the morning. He went out after dark to a neighbouring shop and made some +purchases of outfit; but he was thankful when he had completed his task, +for he had noticed a man walking backwards and forwards in front of the +shop, and he felt a nervous dread lest it should be some spy upon him. +He resolved that he would remain in his rooms, and not go out again +until he left for the voyage on Tuesday, but would ask Mrs. Murdoch to +make the remainder of the necessary purchases for him. + +How lonely and desolate George felt that night! More than once he half +determined rather to bear shame and reproach, and have the society of +those he loved, than continue in that dreadful isolation. He was +thoroughly unmanned. "Oh, that Hardy or Ashton were here, or any friend, +just to say, 'George Weston, old fellow,' once more; what a weight of +dreariness it would remove!" Then he would wonder what was going on at +home, whether his mother was plunged in grief, or whether she was +saying, "He has brought it all on himself, let him bear it." But George +could not reconcile this last thought; he tried hard to cherish it; he +felt he would infinitely rather know his mother was filled with anger +and abhorrence at his crime, than that she mourned for him, and longed +to press him to her bosom and bind up the wounded heart. But he could +not shake off this last idea. It haunted him every moment, and added to +the weight of sorrow which seemed crushing him. + +Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed, and George was still the victim +to anxiety and corroding care. He had paced his room each day, and +tossed restlessly in his bed each night; had tried reading and writing, +to while away the time, and had found every attempt futile. + +Mrs. Murdoch was anxious on his account. + +"Mr. Vincent," she said to him, "you eat nothing, you take no exercise; +you don't sleep at night, for I can hear you, from my room, tossing +about; and I am doctor enough to know that you are ill, and will be +worse, if you do not make some alteration. Do be persuaded by me, and +take some little recreation, or else you will not be in a fit state to +go on board on Tuesday." + +"You are very kind, Mrs. Murdoch," replied George, "but I have no bodily +ailment. If I could get a change of thought, that is the best physic for +a mind diseased." + +"It is, sir," replied the landlady; "and now will you think me rude if I +tell you how you may have that change of thought? You are about to start +on a very dangerous voyage; for long months you will have the sky above +and the sea below, and only a few planks between you and death. Have +you, sir, committed your way to the Lord, and placed your life in His +hands? I know it is a strange thing to ask you, but I hope you will not +be offended. You have seemed so sad for the past day or two, that I +could not help feeling you wanted comfort, and none can give it but the +Heavenly Friend." + +"I do want comfort and support, Mrs. Murdoch, but--" + +"No, sir, there is no _but_ in the case. 'Come onto Me, all ye that are +weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest'--is said to all; and +we only have to go to Him to find all we want." + +"Well, Mrs. Murdoch, I will see if I cannot combine both your +suggestions; and as to-morrow will be Sunday, it will be a recreation to +go to some church or chapel. Can you recommend me a good preacher?" + +"Yes, sir, that I can. If you will go to my pew at chapel to-morrow +morning, I am sure you will like the gentleman who preaches there." + +"Then I will go," said George. + +When he went up to his room again, those few words of Mrs. Murdoch were +still speaking to him. + +"'Weary and heavy laden!' he thought; surely that is my lot. I so young, +once so happy, to feel weary and heavy laden; how strange! But no, it is +not strange--it is natural. Sin brings its punishment, and it is hard +work, bearing its burden! oh! that I could find some spot where I could +rest." + +There was a spot, not far from George, where he could have rested, but +he did not know it. He was oppressed with his weariness, and he longed +for peace and ease of mind to come to him. He did not consider the +words, "Come unto ME." + +There was an old Family Bible on the book-case in his room, and George +took it down. It was a long time since he had read the Word of God: and +when he had it was only to compare it with the dangerous opinions he had +received, and find out what he imagined to be its discrepancies and +contradictions. A feeling of remorse came over him as he put the book on +the table. + +"What right have I to open this book, or attempt to find anything here +for encouragement?" he asked himself. "I have mocked and ridiculed it in +days of prosperity, and yet I am willing to take it up in trouble, as if +it were an old friend. Ah! it was an old friend once, but that has all +gone by now." + +He sat a long time looking at the book. Perhaps there is nothing that +brings back the memories of the past more vividly than the sight of a +Family Bible to one who has long ceased to read and love it. There are +old scenes of childhood associated with it which time can never erase. +Who cannot remember sitting on his mother's knee, or with chair drawn up +beside his father, hearing its sweet music sounded in the home circle on +the Sabbath night? Who can forget the last evening of the holidays +before going back to school, when the old book was brought out, and some +useful text was selected as a monitor and remembrancer? Who can forget +the time when some loved one was ill, and as friends and relatives sat +round the bed of the invalid, the Book was laid upon the table, and +words of comfort were proclaimed to all. + +Many and many a scene moved past George in the mental panorama which the +sight of Mrs. Murdoch's book created. He seemed not to be remembering, +but to be living in the former days. There was his father seated in the +old arm-chair, with Carlo, the faithful dog at his feet, and his elbows +rented upon the table, and his head upon his hand--a favourite +attitude--as he read the Sacred Word. There was dear old Dr. Seaward, +with his spectacles stuck up on his forehead, in his study at +Folkestone, and a party of boys round him, listening eagerly to the +words of instruction and advice which fell from his lips. + +And then the past merged into the present, and George started to find +himself alone in a strange room, in a strange town, with a strange Bible +before him. + +He opened the Book and read. The fifty-first Psalm was the portion of +Scripture to which he inadvertently turned, commencing, "Have mercy upon +me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness; according unto the +multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions." + +He read the Psalm through in amazement. Again he read it, with +increased wonder and astonishment, that any one should have made a +prayer so exactly like that which he felt in his heart he wanted to +pray; and at last he went to the door and locked it, for fear of +interruption, took the Bible from the table and placed it on a chair, +and kneeling down read the prayer again; and repeating it aloud, +sentence by sentence, offered it up as his petition to the throne of +Mercy. + + * * * * * + +On Sunday morning, when the bells were ringing their glad peals, and the +people were already in the streets, on their way to the different places +of worship, George started off, directed by Mrs. Murdoch, to the chapel +of which she had spoken to him. + +He felt very sad as he walked along; it was the last Sunday, perhaps, he +should ever spend in England, and he must spend it alone, an alien from +all whom he loved. The temporary calm which he had experienced on the +previous evening had gone; no prayer for assistance through the day had +issued from his lips that morning, but there was the old feeling of +shame, and chagrin, and disgrace, which had haunted him for the past +week, and with it the dogged determination to bear up against it until +it should be lost in forgetfulness. But George had resolved to go to +chapel that morning, because he felt he wanted a change of some sort, +and there was a melancholy pleasure in spending a part of his last +Sunday in England after his once customary manner. + +The preacher was an old gentleman, of a mild, benevolent countenance, +and with a winning, persuasive manner. When he gave out the first hymn, +reading it solemnly and impressively, George felt he should have +pleasure in listening to the sermon. The congregation joined in the hymn +of praise, with heart and voice lifted up to the God of the Sabbath in +thanksgiving. The singing was rich and good, and George, who was a +passionate lover of music, was touched by its sweet harmony. He did not +join in the hymn, his heart was too full for that; but the strains were +soothing, and produced a natural, reverential emotion which he had been +long unaccustomed to feel. + +The minister took for his text the words, "'Lord, if thou wilt, thou +canst make me clean.' And Jesus put forth His hand, and touched him, +saying, 'I will, be thou clean.'" + +A rush of joy thrilled through George as he heard the words. His +attention was rivetted as he listened to the simple story of the leper +being restored to health; and when the preacher drew the comparison +between leprosy and sin, and revealed Jesus as the Great Physician to +the sick soul, who, in reply to the heartfelt wish, could say, "Thy +sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee," George felt the whole +strength of his soul concentrated in that one desire, "Lord, if thou +wilt, thou canst make _me_ clean." He looked into his own heart--he was +almost afraid to look--and saw the ravages of disease there. He thought +of his past life; there was not one thing to recommend him to God. +NEVER before had he seen his sin in the light in which it was now +revealed by God's Word. He had viewed it in relation to man's opinion, +and his own consciousness; but now the Holy Spirit was striving within +him, and showing him his position in the sight of God. + +The preacher went on to unfold the sweet story of the Cross, to tell of +the simple plan of salvation, and to point to Jesus, the Lamb of God, +"who taketh away the sins of the world." It seemed to George as if he +had never heard the glad tidings before; it had never made the hot tear +run down his cheek, as he thought of the Saviour suffering for sins not +His own, until now; it had never before torn the agonised sigh from his +heart, as the truth flashed before him that it was he who had helped to +nail the Holy One to the accursed tree; he had never realised before +that earth was but the portal to the heavenly mansions--that time was +but the herald of eternity. Now, all these things came crowding upon his +mind, and when the sermon concluded he was in a bewilderment of joy and +sorrow. + +A parting hymn was sung--that glorious old hymn-- + + "There is a fountain filled with blood, + Drawn from Emmanuel's veins." + +When it came to those lines-- + + "The dying _thief_ rejoiced to see + That fountain in his day; + And there may I, though vile as he, + Wash all my sins away:" + +he could bear it no longer: he could not restrain the torrent of tears +which was struggling to get free; he could not stay in that assembly of +people; he must be alone, alone with God, alone with his own heart. + +When he reached his apartments, he went immediately to his room, and +there, beside his bed, he knelt and poured out his soul to God. Words +could not tell his wants, words could not express his contrition; but +there he knelt, a silent pleader, presenting himself with all the dark +catalogue of a life's sin before his dishonoured God. + +George thought he had experienced the extremity of sorrow during the few +days he had been in Plymouth, but it was as nothing compared with that +he now felt. He had grieved over name and reputation lost, prospects +blighted, and self-respect forfeited, but now he mourned over a God +dishonoured, a Saviour slighted, a life mis-spent. Is there any sorrow +like unto that sorrow which is felt by a soul crushed beneath the sense +of sin? + +How that day passed, George hardly knew. He felt his whole life +epitomised in those few hours spent in solemn confession. Oh, how he +longed to realise a sense of pardon--to know and feel, as the leper knew +and felt, that he was made clean. But he could not do so: he only felt +himself lost and ruined, and found expression but in one cry, "Unclean! +unclean!" + +He was aroused in the evening by the ringing of church bells again; and, +taking a hasty cup of tea, at Mrs. Murdoch's solicitation, he once more +bent his steps to the place of worship he had visited in the morning, +with the earnest desire and prayer that he might hear such truths +taught as would enable him to see Jesus. + +How often does God "_devise means_ that His banished be not expelled +from Him," and in His providential mercy order those events and +circumstances to occur, which are instrumental in preparing the mind for +the reception of His truth! It was no chance, no mere coincidence, that +the preacher took for his text those words which were associated with so +many recollections of George, "_for me to live is Christ_." + +Simply, but earnestly, he drew pictures of life, in its many phases, and +contrasted them with the one object worth living for. Upon all else was +written, vanity of vanities--living for pleasure was but another name +for living for future woe: living for wealth was losing all; living for +honour was but heaping condemnation for the last day: while living for +Christ gave not only pleasure, and riches, and honour here, but +hereafter. Then he spoke of the preciousness of Jesus to those who +believe, as the sympathising Friend, and the loving Brother; of the +honour and joy of living for Him who had died to bring life and +immortality to light; and of that "peace which passeth understanding." + +That night there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over a +new-born soul. As George listened to the voice of the preacher, there +fell from his eyes as it had been scales, and he saw the Father running +to embrace the returning prodigal, and felt the kiss of His forgiving +love. The words which his earthly father had last spoken to him, were +those chosen by his heavenly Father to show him his new blissful +relationship as a son. And at what a gracious time! George was a +wanderer, an outcast, without father or friend, without object or aim in +life, and the doors of heaven were thrown open to him; the sympathy of +Divine love was poured into that aching heart, and the words of +rejoicing were uttered, "This, MY SON, was dead, and is alive again; was +lost, and is found." + +The weary one was at rest, the heart of stone palpitated with a living +breath, "The dead one heard the voice of the Son of God, and lived." + +Who can sympathise with George as he sat in his room that night, +overwhelmed with joy unspeakable? He was a new creature in a new world; +old things had passed away, behold all things had become new. He looked +up to heaven as his home, to God as his Father, to Jesus as his great +elder Brother; and he realised his life as hidden with Christ in God, +redeemed and reconciled, henceforth not his own, but given to Him who +had washed him, and made him clean in His own blood. + + * * * * * + +Great joy is harder to bear than great sorrow. George had suddenly gone +from one to the other extreme, and at a time when he was suffering from +physical prostration, the result of such strong mental struggles. + +"Mr. Vincent, it is nine o'clock," Mrs. Murdoch called out, as she +knocked at his door next morning. No answer was returned. + +"Mr. Vincent, will you come down to breakfast, sir?" she repeated more +loudly, but with no greater success. + +Again she knocked, wondering that George should sleep so soundly, and be +so difficult to arouse, as he was accustomed to answer at the first +call. + +"Mr. Vincent, breakfast is waiting!" + +No answer coming, Mrs. Murdoch was anxious; she knew George had been +really ill for several days past, and had noticed his strange manner on +the previous evening. Without further hesitation, she opened the door, +and there on the floor lay George Weston, insensible, having apparently +fallen while in the act of dressing. + +Calling for assistance, she at once laid him upon the bed, applied all +the restoratives at hand, and without a moment's delay despatched a +messenger to the chemist in the next street, with instructions for him +to attend immediately. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MAKING DISCOVERIES. + + +"Will you grant me leave of absence for to-day?" Charles Hardy asked Mr. +Sanders, a few minutes after George had left the office, on the gloomy +and eventful morning when he disclosed the secret of his guilt. + +"I hardly know what to say--what to do," answered Mr. Sanders, puffing +and blowing; "business will come to a stand-still--the shutters had +better go up at once. But if you want particularly to be off to-day, I +suppose I must manage to spare you." + +"I may want several days, sir; but if that should be the case, I will +return to the office to-morrow in time to see Mr. Compton immediately he +comes back" + +It was but the work of five minutes for Charles to write a short note, +change his office coat, and prepare to start The note was addressed to +Mr. Brunton, care of Mr. Sanders till called for, and ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR SIR, + + "Do not be more uneasy than necessary about George. I think I have a + clue by which his address may be ascertained. If so, I will report + progress to you to-night; but I leave this note for you, in order to + allay the distress you will feel in learning he is not here. Rest + assured of my earnest desire to serve my dear friend, and to relieve + him if possible. My time and services you may command in this cause. + In haste, + + "Yours very faithfully, + + "CHARLES HARDY." + +Hardy had a clue, it is true; but it was a very faint one. He had +noticed, upon the table of Mr. Compton's room, a "Bradshaw's Railway +Guide;" and as he had not seen one there previously, he imagined it must +have been brought in by George, with his carpet-bag and other things, +and there left. One page of the book was turned down; Hardy had eagerly +opened it, and found it referred to the departures from the Great +Western Station. + +"I'll go on at once to that station," he thought. "He told me he might +be leaving England; perhaps he has gone to Liverpool, Plymouth, or Cork, +or some shipping place that can be reached by this line. At all events, +I have no other chance but this." + +With all speed Charles drove off to Paddington. Diligently he conned +over the intricate mysteries of "Bradshaw" as he journeyed along, +endeavouring to ascertain when trains would be leaving for any of the +places to which he had imagined his friend might be going. It is hardly +necessary to say he could not find what he wanted; but his anxiety and +suspense were relieved by the search. + +Before alighting at the station, Hardy carefully glanced all around to +ascertain that George was not in sight; for it was not his intention to +speak to him or endeavour to turn him from his purpose, knowing that, in +his present excited state he would stand no chance whatever of +frustrating his friend's plans, but would rather be adopting the most +certain means of destroying his own. Hardy's present object was only to +try and find out to what part George would travel, and then communicate +with Mr. Brunton and get his advice how to proceed. + +Cautiously he walked along the platform, looking into every +waiting-room, and making inquiries of the porters it they had seen any +one answering to the description he gave of George. This course proving +futile, he went to the ticket-office, and consulted a time-table, to +find whether any train had recently left for any of the places which, he +felt convinced, were the most probable for George to choose. An hour or +two had elapsed since the last train left, and George had not had more +than twenty minutes' start ahead of him. He took down in his pocket-book +the time for the departure of the next train; and then choosing a +secluded spot in the office, where he would be out of observation, and +yet able to see all who came up for tickets, he waited patiently until +the slow, dawdling hand of the clock neared the hour. + +Hardy felt the chances were fifty to one that while he was waiting there +George might be at some other station, leaving London without a trace to +his whereabouts; he thought whether, after all, George might not have +purposely, instead of accidentally, left the "Bradshaw" with that +particular page turned down, in order that, should he be sought, a wrong +scent might be given; and even if he intended to travel by this line and +to one of these particular places, might he not choose nighttime as the +most desirable for his object? But Hardy had _purpose_ in him; he would +not throw away the strongest clue he had, although that was faint, and +he resolved to stay there until midnight, it need be, rather than +abandon his design, + +His patience was not put to such a test as this. While he was standing, +with palpitating heart, behind that door in the booking office, George +was in the porters' room, not a hundred yards off, waiting with deeper +anxiety for the clock to point to the hour when the train should start. +Presently, the first bell rang. A number of people, with bags and +packages in hand, came crowding up to the ticket office, but George was +not there. Hardy could scarcely refrain from rushing out to look around. +What if he should get into a train without a ticket, or send a guard to +procure one for him? A hundred doubts and fears were pressing upon him, +and--the second bell rang. Two or three minutes more, and the train +would be off. At the moment he was consulting his pocket-book to see how +long a time must elapse before the next train would leave, he started +with joyful surprise to see George walk hurriedly up to the office and +obtain a ticket. As hurriedly he disappeared. "Now is my chance," +thought Hardy. + +"Where did that young man take his ticket for?" he asked the clerk, as +soon as he had elbowed his way past the few remaining persons who were +before the window. + +"Which one?" said he; "two or three young men have just taken tickets." + +"I mean the last ticket but one you issued?" + +"Plymouth." + +"Hurrah!" cried Hardy, to the astonishment of the clerk, who probably +would not have given the information, had he not thought the inquirer +wanted a ticket for the same place. + +Hardy was too cautious, even in the moment of his surprise, to let his +object be lost by over-haste; he knew it would not be wise to let +himself be seen, and though he longed to rush after George and say, +"Good-bye, cheer up, old chap!" he only allowed himself the painful +pleasure of looking through the window of a waiting-room, and seeing his +old friend and chum, sad and solitary, get into the carriage. Shriek +went the whistle, and away went the train. Whether it whizzed along so +rapidly, or the smoke and steam enveloped it, or from whatever cause it +was, Charles Hardy found his sight growing dimmer, until a mist shut out +the scene. + +From the station Hardy went home. He wanted to tell his parents some of +the occurrences of the day, and let them know of his expected absence. +He knew that he had difficulties to meet. George had always been kindly +received by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy; they both liked him, and were glad when +he came to spend an evening at their house. But latterly they had been +rather anxious about the growing intimacy between him and their son, and +often had a word of caution been given that Charles should be very +careful how far he allowed his friend to influence him. + +Now Hardy could only tell his parents that George had got into worse +trouble than ever--such trouble that he was obliged to leave his +situation, and had decamped, no one except himself knew where. Of course +Mr. and Mrs. Hardy would not put a good construction upon the affair. He +anticipated they would say, "Well, I always feared he would come to +this;" and would try to dissuade Charles from having anything more to do +with him. It was not to be expected they would look with such leniency +upon the matter as he would. Therefore, it was with no small difficulty +he proceeded, immediately upon reaching home, to tell them of what had +occurred. It was a short story, and soon told. + +"Now, father," said Hardy, before allowing him time to bring objections +to the part he had performed that day, "I have promised Mr. Brunton to +assist in finding George, and I have told Mr. Sanders I may be away some +days from the office. I know Mr. Compton will not object to this; if +that is all, I can have this leave of absence instead of the holiday he +promised me next mouth. George must be found; if I can help it, he shall +not leave England--at all events, not in this way. I know it will kill +Mrs. Weston, if he does." + +"Well, Charles, I know your kindheartedness, and I appreciate it; but I +cannot give my consent to the plan. Recollect, by associating yourself +with your former friend now, you do injury to yourself; he has got +himself into disgrace--he must bear the burden of it. What will Mr. +Compton think, when he hears that you--you who have always maintained +such strict integrity--have gone off after a dishonest, runaway clerk?" + +"I never wish to run counter to your opinions, father, if I can help it; +but I must do so now, George Weston is my friend--not _was_ my friend, +as you said just now--and I would not act such a cowardly part as to +desert him. Don't be vexed at what I say; I know you advise for my good; +but you do not know how I feel in this matter. Suppose our positions +were changed, and I had done as George has done--there is no +impossibility in such a case--I am too weak against temptation to doubt +that had I been placed in the circumstances similar to his, I might have +done the same, Suppose I had, what would you have thought of me? Should +I have been your dishonest, runaway son, to whom all friendship must be +denied, and who might be left to bear any burden alone, because I had +brought it upon myself? No, father; you would be the first to seek and +comfort me, and the first to cry 'Shame!' upon any of my friends who +turned and kicked me the moment I had fallen." + +Mr. Hardy could not resist the force of his son's argument, nor could he +refrain from admiring the genuineness of his friendship for George, and +the manly determination he had formed to assist him. + +"Well, Charles," he said, "I do not blame you for taking this course. I +hope it may be serviceable to your friend, and without any injury to +yourself." + +"Do not fear, father. And now I must pack up a few necessaries in my +bag, and be off to Mr. Brunton's. If I do not return home to-morrow, do +not be uneasy about me, and I will write to you every day to say how +things are going on." + +When Hardy arrived at the house of Mr. Brunton, he found him, as he +anticipated, in a high state of nervous anxiety. + +"I am so thankful you have arrived, Mr. Hardy," he said, shaking him +warmly by the hand: "and I need not tell you Mrs. Weston has been +waiting with great impatience to see you." + +"Mrs. Weston! is she here?" + +"Yes; not many minutes after you had left the office I called there, and +received the sad news about--about George. I at once telegraphed to Mrs. +Weston to come up to town, and it needed no urging to hasten her, for +she had only a short time before received a letter from him, which had +filled her with alarm. But let us go to her at once," said Mr. Brunton, +leading the way to the drawing-room; "she entreated I would bring you to +her the moment you arrived." + +As Hardy entered, Mrs. Weston sprang to meet him. + +"Have you found George?--where is he?" she asked, and the look of +struggling hope and despair was touching to witness. + +"I have not found him, Mrs. Weston, but I know the place of his present +destination. He has gone to Plymouth;" and then Hardy briefly explained +the incidents of the morning. + +"I cannot tell you how thankful I am to you, Mr. Hardy," said Mrs. +Weston, as he concluded. "May God bless you for your kindness to my pool +George!" + +"George would have done more for me, Mrs. Weston," Hardy replied; "but, +at present, little or nothing has been done. Have you any plans, and can +I help you in them?" + +"We must go on as soon as possible to Plymouth, and find out where he +is. He may perhaps be on the eve of starting away by some of the vessels +in the port. Not a minute should be lost." + +"Then, sir, I will go down to Plymouth by the mail train which leaves in +about a couple of hours, if you will let me; and I promise you that I +will do my best to find him," said Hardy. + +This unexpected proposition removed an infinite burden from Mr. +Brunton's mind. He felt that it was his duty to see Mr. Compton at once, +and he had other engagements which made it impossible for him to leave +that night. He did not like Mrs. Weston travelling alone, in her present +anxious and desponding state, and had been at his wit's end all day to +know how to manage. + +"But, Mr. Hardy, can you go? Have you consulted your friends at home? +Can you manage to get leave of absence from the office?--remember they +will be short of hands there," asked Mr. Brunton. + +"I have made all arrangements at home, sir and my only difficulty is +about Mr. Compton. But if you will please see him as soon as he returns, +and explain why I have left, I am sure he will not be displeased. He was +so fond of George, I know he would have said 'Go, by all means,' had he +been at home." + +"I will undertake to set the matter right with him about you," said Mr. +Brunton; "but I doubt whether he will ever allow me to mention poor +George's name. Oh! Hardy, this is a sad, sad business!" + +"It is, sir; but it is sadder for George than for his friends," replied +Hardy. "I cannot bear to think of the trouble he is passing through at +this moment. It has cost him much to take the step he has taken, and +everything must be done to get him back from his voluntary banishment" + +"And everything shall be done that can," said Mr. Brunton. "God grant he +is still in England! I feel sure the sight of his mother and his friends +sorrowing for him, instead of turning against him as he supposes, will +alter his determination." + +"Mr. Hardy, may I place myself under your protection until my brother +joins us at Plymouth?" said Mrs. Weston, abruptly. "I will go down by +the mail train to-night; I cannot rest until he is found." + +Arrangements were speedily made, and that night the train bore off Mrs. +Western and Charles Hardy to Plymouth. + +On the following morning Mr. Brunton called at Falcon-court. Mr. Compton +had not yet arrived, but was expected hourly. Not wishing to lose time, +which that morning was particularly precious to him, he asked for some +writing materials, and seating himself in Mr. Compton's room, intended +to occupy himself until his arrival. After he had been there about +half-an-hour, his attention was arrested by hearing the door of the +clerk's office open, and an inquiry made. + +"Is Mr. George Weston here?" + +"Mr. Weston has left the office," answered Williams, who came forward to +answer the inquiry. "Left yesterday morning." + +"Indeed! Where has he gone to? why did he leave?" + +"I don't think anyone knows where he has gone to," answered Williams; +"and I am not disposed to say why he left." + +Williams did not know why he had left, nor were the circumstances of the +case known to any of the clerks; but many surmises had been made which +were unfavourable to him, and it was with the exultant pleasure a mean +spirit feels in a mean triumph, that Williams had at last an opportunity +of speaking lightly of the once good name of George Weston, to whom he +had ever cherished feelings of animosity. + +"Is Mr. Compton in, or the manager?" asked the visitor. "I am +exceedingly anxious to know what has become of my friend." + +"Between ourselves," said Williams, "the less you say about your friend +the better. It strikes me--mind, I merely give you this confidentially +as my impression--that, when Weston turns up again, his friends will not +be over-anxious to renew their acquaintance." + +"What do you mean? I do not understand you." + +"What I mean is this. When a clerk is dismissed from an office during +the absence of the principal, leaves suddenly and has to hide +himself--more particularly when accounts at the banker's do not quite +balance--one cannot help thinking there is a screw loose somewhere." + +Mr. Brunton overheard all this; he who had never before heard an +unfavourable sentence spoken against his nephew. He had not fully +realised until that moment the painful position in which George's crime +had placed him, nor the depth of his nephew's fall in position and +character. He longed to have been able to stand up in vindication of +George against the terrible insinuations of Williams; he would have been +intensely thankful if he could have accosted the stranger, and said, +"That man is guilty of falsehood who dares to speak against the good +name of my nephew." But there he stood, with blood boiling and lips +quivering, unable to contradict one sentence that had been uttered. + +"If Weston _does_ turn up," continued Williams, "will you leave any +message or letter, or your name, and it shall be forwarded?" + +"My name is Ashton," said the stranger; "but it is unnecessary to say +that I called. It does not do to be mixed up with matters like these. I +half feared something of the sort was brewing, but I had no idea tilings +would have taken so sudden a turn." + +Mr. Brunton could restrain his impatience no longer. + +"Mr. Ashton," he said, coming suddenly upon the speakers, "will you +favour me by stepping inside a minute or two? I shall be glad to speak +to you." + +Ashton was taken by surprise at seeing Mr. Brunton where he least +expected to see him. + +"I have been placed in the uncomfortable position of a listener to your +conversation in the next room," said Mr. Brunton, closing the door; "and +I cannot allow those remarks made by the clerk with whom you were +talking to pass unqualified." + +"They need little explanation, sir," said Ashton. "George Weston has +been on the verge of a catastrophe for some months, and I believe I can +fill in the outline of information which you heard given me." + +"I am in ignorance of the causes which have led to my nephew's +disgrace," answered Mr. Brunton; "nor am I desirous to hear them from +any lips but his. You were one of his most intimate friends, I believe, +Mr. Ashton?" + +"Yes; I think I may say his most intimate friend." + +"And you knew he was on the 'verge of a catastrophe.' I have no doubt +you acted the part of a friend, and sought to turn his steps from the +fatal brink?" + +"Well, as to that, he was fully competent to manage his own affairs +without my interference. I did tell him he would come to grief, if he +did not give up playing." + +"And did you add to that advice that he should quit those associates +who had assisted to bring him to such a pass?" + +"Certainly not; why should I meddle with him in his companionships? You +speak, Mr. Brunton, as if I were your nephew's keeper. If George Weston +liked to live beyond his means, he was at liberty to do it for me. I am +sorry he made such a smash at last, but it is all that could be +expected. If ever you see George again, sir, you will oblige me by +conveying one message. I did not think when he came to me, two nights +ago, to try and borrow a hundred pounds, that he intended to mix me up +in any disgraceful business like that of this morning. Had I known it, +instead of fretting myself about his welfare, he should have--" + +"Made the discovery," interrupted Mr. Brunton, "that he never had a +friend in you. My idea of a friend is one who seeks the well-being of +another; speaks to him as a second conscience in temptation; loves with +a strength of attachment which cannot be broken; and, though sorrowing +over error, can still hope and pray for and seek to restore the erring. +Mr. Ashton, I do not wish to say more upon this matter; it is painful +for me to think how my nephew has been led downward, step after step, by +those whom he thought friends, and how sinfully he has yielded. When +you think of him, recollect him as the boy you knew at school, and try +to trace his course down to this day. You know his history, his +companionships, his whole life. Think whether _you_ have influenced it, +and how; and if your conscience should say, 'I have not been his +friend,' may you be led by the remembrance to consider that no man +liveth to himself: and that for those talents and attractions with which +you are endowed, you will have hereafter to give account, together with +the good or evil which has resulted from them." + +To Ashton's relief the door opened, and Mr. Compton entered. Hastily +taking up his hat, he bade adieu to Mr. Brunton, glad of this +opportunity to beat a retreat. + +"Confound those Methodists!" he uttered to himself, as he walked up +Fleet-street; "speak to them, they talk sermons; strike them, and they +defend themselves with sermons; cut them to the quick, and I believe +they would bleed sermons. But why should he pounce upon me? What have I +done? A pretty life George would have led if it hadn't been for me, and +this is all the thanks I get. I wish to goodness he had not made such a +fool of himself; I shall have to answer all inquiries about him, and it +is no honour to be linked in such associations." + +The meeting between Mr. Compton and Mr. Brunton was one of mingled +feelings of pain and mortification. One had lost a valuable clerk, for +whom he cherished more than ordinary feelings of regard, and upon whom +he had hoped some day the whole management of the business would +devolve; the other had lost almost all that was dear to him on earth, +one whom he had watched, and loved, and worked for, and to whose bright +future he had looked forward with increasing pleasure, until it had +become a dream of life. Both were aggrieved, both were injured; but both +felt, in their degree, such strong feelings in favour of George, despite +his disgrace and crime, that they could look with more sorrow than anger +on the offender, and deal more in kindness than in wrath. + +Mr. Compton could not but agree with Mr. Brunton that he must be +discovered, if possible; and although he could never receive him under +any circumstances into his office again, nor could ever have for him the +feelings he once entertained, still he felt free to adhere to his first +determination not to prosecute or take any steps in the case, nor allow +it to have more publicity than could be helped. + +"He is still young," said he; "let him try to redeem the past. But it +is right he should feel the consequences of his actions, and no doubt he +will, as he has to encounter the difficulties which will meet him in +seeking to retrieve the position he has lost. You know me too well, +Brunton, to imagine that I do not estimate aright the extent of his +guilt; and you will give me credit for possessing a desire to do as I +would be done by in this case. I believe many a young man has been +ruined through time and eternity, by having been dealt with too +harshly--though in a legal sense quite justly; at the same time it has +been the only course to check a growing habit of crime in others. I know +well that in some instances it would be a duty to prosecute, if only as +a protection from suspicion of upright persons. But there are +exceptional cases, and I consider this to be one of them, although +perhaps many of our leading citizens might think me culpable in my +clemency; but I think I know your nephew sufficiently well to be +warranted in the belief that he feels his criminality, and will take a +lasting warning from this circumstance. And now, what do you intend to +do, since you know my determination?" + +Mr. Brunton explained the plans he had formed, and the valuable +assistance which Hardy had rendered him. He was pleased to hear from his +injured friend the heartily expressed wish that the end in view might be +accomplished. Mr. Brunton had surmounted one great difficulty, and he +could not feel sufficiently thankful at the issue. Although he had known +Mr. Compton for many years, and had seen innumerable evidences of his +benevolence and good nature, he knew, too, that he was the very +personification of honesty and uprightness; and he dreaded lest, +incensed against George for his ingratitude, and fearing the influence +of his conduct might spread in the office, he would take measures +against him which, although perfectly just, would, by their severity, +prove deeply injurious in such a case, and reduce George, who was +naturally sensitive of shame, to a position from which he might never be +restored. + +At the very earliest opportunity Mr. Brunton went down to Plymouth. +Business of the greatest importance, which he could not set aside, had +detained him in London until Friday, and his uneasiness had been +increased during that time by two notes he had received--one from Mrs. +Weston, and the other from Hardy--telling him of the unsuccessful issue +of their search. With an anxious heart he alighted at the station at +Plymouth, and walked to the hotel, where his sister and Hardy were +staying. The look of despair he read in Mrs. Weston's countenance, as +they met, told him that no favourable result had been obtained. + +"We have been everywhere, and tried every possible plan to find poor +George," she said, when Mr. Brunton sat down beside her and Hardy to +hear the recital of their efforts. "I should have broken down long ago, +had it not been for our dear friend here, who has been night and day at +work, plotting schemes and working them out, and buoying me up with +hopes in their result. But I feel sure George cannot be in Plymouth, and +our search is vain." + +"So Mrs. Weston has said all along," said Hardy; "but I cannot agree +with her; at all events, I will not believe it until we find out where +he has gone. He has not taken a passage in any of the vessels, as far as +we can ascertain; he is not in any of the inns in the town, I think, for +we have made the most searching inquiries at all of them; but in this +large place it is difficult to find any one without some positive clue." + +"Have you been able to find out whether he really arrived here?" asked +Mr. Brunton. + +"I think I have. One of the porters rather singularly recollected a +person, answering to the description, arriving by the train in which +George left London. It seems he was hastening away from the station +without giving up his ticket No doubt he was nervous and absent in mind; +and when the porter called to him, he started and seemed as if he were +alarmed: but in a minute he produced his ticket and went out The porter +looked suspiciously, I suppose, at the ticket, and evidently so at +George, for he was able to give a full description of him." + +"That is so far satisfactory," said Mr. Brunton; "but have you made any +more discoveries to render you tolerably sure he is still in Plymouth." + +"Yes, I have been to every shop where they fit out passengers for a sea +voyage, and have found out one where he purchased some articles of +clothing. But the clearest trace I have of him is from the shipping +agents. He was certainly looking over vessels on the morning after his +arrival here, for one or two captains have described him to me. I have +been a great many times down among the shipping, but have not made more +discoveries, and I cannot get any information from the shipping offices; +but in this you will probably meet with more success, sir, than I have, +for a young man is not of sufficient importance to command attention +from business men." + +Mr. Brunton was fully conscious of the difficulties which were in the +way of finding George, even supposing he was still in Plymouth: but he +was not without hope. He could not find words enough to express his +strong approbation of all that Hardy had done, and he felt sure that he +could have no better assistant in the undertaking than he. A series of +plans were soon formed: Hardy was to keep watch upon those vessels which +he thought it probable George might choose, and offer rewards to sailors +and others for information. Mr. Brunton was to try and discover the +names and descriptions of passengers booked at the shipping offices; and +Mrs. Weston was to keep a general lookout on outfitters' warehouses, and +other places where it might be probable George would visit. + +But every plan failed. Saturday night came, and, worn out with fatigue, +the anxious trio sat together to discuss the incidents of the day, and +propose fresh arrangements for the morrow. Sunday was not a day of rest +to them; from early morning they were all engaged in different +directions in prosecuting their search, and not until the curtain of +night was spread over the town, and the hum of traffic and din of bustle +had ceased, did they return to the hotel. + +After supper, Mr. Brunton took out his pocket Bible, and read aloud some +favourite passages. They seemed to speak with a voice of hope and +comfort, and inspired fresh faith in the unerring providence of Him who +doeth all things well. + +Very earnest were the prayers offered by that little party, as they +knelt together and commended the wanderer, wherever he might be, to the +care and guidance of the good providence of God. They felt how useless +were all plans and purposes unless directed by a higher source than +their own; and while they prayed for success upon the efforts put forth, +if in accordance with His will, they asked for strength and resignation +to bear disappointment Nor were their prayers merely that he whom they +were seeking might be found, but that he might find pardon and +acceptance with God, and that the evil which they lamented might, in the +infinitely wise purposes of Providence, be controlled for good. + +With fresh zeal and renewed hope the three set forth on the following +morning to prosecute their several plans. Hardy had learned that one or +two vessels would sail that day, and he was full of expectation that he +might meet with some tidings. + +Mr. Brunton felt rather unwell that morning--the press of business which +had detained him in London, the excitement of the journey, and the +fatigue of the previous days, had told upon his health. As he was +passing through a quiet part of the town, he called in at an +apothecary's to get a draught, which he hoped might ward off any serious +attack of sickness. While the draught was being prepared, Mr. Brunton, +who was intent upon his object and never left a stone unturned, +interrogated the apothecary, a gentlemanly and agreeable man, upon the +neighbourhood, the number of visitors in that locality, and other +subjects, ending by saying he was trying to discover the residence of a +relative, but without any knowledge of his address. + +In the midst of the conversation, a servant-girl, without bonnet or +shawl, came hurriedly into the shop, out of breath with running. + +"Oh, sir, if you please, sir, missus says, will you come at once to see +the young gentleman as stays at our house?--he's taken bad." + +"Who is your mistress, my girl?" asked the chemist. + +"Oh, sir, it's Mrs. Murdoch, of ---- Street; and the young gentleman is +a lodger from London, and he's going away to-morrow to the Indies or +somewheres; but do come, sir, please--missus'll be frightened to death, +all by herself, and him so dreadful bad." + +Mr. Brunton had been an anxious listener. Was it possible that the young +gentleman from London could be George? + +"How long has your lodger been with you?" he asked the girl. + +"A week come Wednesday--leastways, come Tuesday night,"--was the +accurate answer. + +Mr. Brunton, with eyes flashing with excitement, turned to the medical +man. "Will you allow me to accompany you on this visit?" he asked; "I +have reason to believe that your patient may be the relative for whom I +am searching." + +"Then come, by all means," answered the doctor; and, preceded by the +girl, who was all impatience to get home, and kept up a pace which made +Mr. Brunton puff lustily, they reached the house of Mrs. Murdoch. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE SICK CHAMBER. + + +The sun had gone down, and the twilight was fast losing itself in night. +The pale moon was struggling to look out upon the world through the +dark, heavy clouds which had collected around, as if expressly to +prevent this purpose. The hum of traffic in the street had ceased, and +the only sounds that came in at the open window were strains of music, +and the confused clamour of voices from a neighbouring tavern. The room +was a picture of neatness. The bed was draped in snowy furniture, and +the coverlid bore evidence of good taste and the ingenuity of +industrious hands. The mantlepiece was adorned with a few photographs +and a vase of fresh-gathered flowers. + +Upon a table in the corner of the room stood a lamp, with a green shade +over it to screen the light from the bed. Beside it were bottles, +phials, and other appliances of a sick chamber. + +A group stood round the bed, watching, with thrilling anxiety, the face +of the doctor as he held the inanimate hand of George Weston. + +You might have heard the ticking of his watch as he stood there and +gazed in the face of the patient, while Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton and +Charles Hardy waited motionless, almost breathless, to hear his verdict. + +"It is a more serious case than I imagined at first," said the doctor; +"I do not wish unnecessarily to alarm you, but it is my duty to say that +the condition of the patient is one of great danger, but I trust not +past recovery." + +"What is the nature of the illness--tell me candidly?" asked Mr. +Brunton, when he could command speech. + +"Brain fever," was the laconic answer. + +For a long time George Weston lay in that awful state which is neither +death nor life--when the spirit seems to be hovering round the body, +uncertain whether to wing its flight for ever from the tenement of +earth, or return to sojourn still longer in its old familiar +dwelling-house. Sometimes he would rave in the frenzy of madness, and +then sink in exhaustion with scarcely the power to draw a breath. + +Never was a sick-bed tended with greater care than his. Night after +night Mrs. Weston sat beside him, bathing the fevered head and cooling +the parched lips. Nor would she leave that post for a moment, until Mr. +Brunton was obliged to insist upon her taking rest. + +"Reserve your strength," he said; "we know not what is before us; it may +be--but we have nothing to do with the future," he added, interrupting +himself; "that must be left in His hands." + +Hardy was not able to remain in Plymouth longer than Wednesday. Mr. +Compton had written to him to say that, being short of hands, he was +very much pressed in business, and now that the main object of his +journey had been attained--for Mr. Brunton communicated with him almost +immediately--he should be glad if he would return as soon as possible. + +As he stood beside the bed of George Weston on the morning of his +departure, and gazed into those pale and haggard features, which had +always beamed with a friendly smile for him, but which he might never +see again, he could not restrain the impulse of clasping his hand, and +uttering solemnly the prayerful wish, "God preserve and bless you, +George!" + +The words were not heard by George--his ears were closed in dull +insensibility--but they were caught by Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston, who +that moment entered the room, and Hardy was startled to hear the earnest +response to his prayer in their united "Amen!" + +"And that prayer shall ever be offered for you, Charles," said Mrs. +Weston; "I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid. I +shudder to think of what would have happened, had it not been for your +kind, noble, manly friendship. Poor George would have suffered in this +lonely place, away from all who loved him, and without proper care, +perhaps have died--died afoot." + +"You do not know how thankful I feel, Mrs. Weston, that our efforts have +not been in vain. Pray write to me every day, to say how he is going +on--if it is only just one line; and should there be any change for +the--for the better, do let me know at once, that I may come down again, +if only for a day, just to congratulate him." + +"And if there is another change--a change for the worse?" asked Mrs. +Weston, tearfully. + +"Write, telegraph--pray let me know somehow," answered Hardy. "I could +not bear to part with him without telling and showing him there was one +of his old friends who loved him to the last. Good-bye, dear Mrs. +Weston; do not over-tax your strength, and keep up a good heart; depend +upon it, there are yet happy days for you and for George." + +Mrs. Weston sadly missed her young friend after his departure. His +hopeful spirits had helped to buoy up her expectations and assuage the +sorrows of the present. It seemed as if the sun had hidden itself and +the stars had refused their light during those long days when the mother +sat watching at the bedside of her son. Mr. Brunton tried in every way +to relieve her, but his own heart was heavy, and the two felt more at +home in talking dolefully over the bad symptoms of the patient than in +looking forward to the future. + +But a day came when the strength of the fever abated, and reason +returned to her long vacant throne. + +It was toward evening: Mrs. Weston was sitting beside the bed, busily +stitching away at her work, and Mr. Brunton was resting his head upon +his hands as he turned over the pages of a book which he was trying to +deceive himself into the belief he was reading, when a deep sigh caused +them both to suspend their occupation. + +George raised himself up in bed, and gazed round the room. The +furniture screened the two watchers, and he fancied himself alone. He +raised a pillow at his back, and reclining upon it in the placid calm of +exhaustion, with his face turned toward the open window, watched the +clouds as they crossed the blue expanse, and indulged in a half +conscious reverie. Where had he been? Where was he? Had he passed the +dark valley of the shadow of death, and were there angel forms in those +snow-white clouds beckoning him away? What was that confused sound which +rang in his ears? Was it the murmuring of the dark stream as it washed +upon the untrodden shore? + +No: there was the little room where he had taken his lodgings; there was +the green paper on the wall with the large grape clusters; there was the +sound of human voices in the street And the consciousness that he was +alive, restored, flashed upon him with something of the bewildering +astonishment and joy which Lazarus must have felt when he heard the +words, "Come forth." + +Too weak to rise, he was not too weak to pray. Clasping his hands +together, and gazing up into the clear blue sky, from whence all clouds +were now dispersing, he poured out his overflowing heart in +thanksgiving. + +He spoke with God. The tremulous voice gained strength, the power of +faith and hope grew intensified, and he prayed with that love and +fervour which the grateful child of a heavenly Parent can only feel. + +Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton were paralyzed with astonishment; +instinctively they shrank from disturbing that solemn time by coming +forward to speak with George and letting him recognise them; but with a +united impulse, both quietly and solemnly knelt down and joined in the +song of thanksgiving. + +Theirs was joy unspeakable; tears poured down both faces, and hushed +sobs of rejoicing burst from their hearts. All their prayers and earnest +longings had been answered; all their sorrow was turned into joy; and +that Friend of friends, whose delights are with the children of men, had +ordered, according to the tender mercy of His loving heart, all the evil +into overwhelming good. + +Presently the voice ceased; and, exhausted with the effort, George lay +down in calm and blissful tranquillity to sleep. + +As Mrs. Weston rose from her knees, her dress touched a book on the +table, which fell to the ground. George was roused by the sound, and, +trying to draw aside the curtain, said,-- + +"Is that you, Mrs. Murdoch?" + +Mrs. Weston, although dreading the consequences of excitement, could +restrain no longer the yearning of her motherly heart to embrace her +son. + +"No, George, my dearest boy, it is your mother." + +"Mother! mother!" cried George, with the old former-day voice of love +and joy, passionately kissing the face of beaming happiness bent over +him, "Thank God you are here!" + +From that day George began rapidly to improve. The excitement produced +by the discovery that he had been sought and found, instead of doing him +injury, relieved his already-oppressed mind from a weight of care. Every +day brought fresh strength, and as he sat up in bed, carefully propped +up by pillows, with his uncle on one hand and his mother on the other, +he told them all the sorrowful and joyful details of his strange +experiences until the eventful morning when his strength gave way. + +"This is beginning life afresh, in every sense," he said; "here am I, a +poor mortal, almost helpless, just strong enough to know how weak I am; +and before me--if my life is spared--lies an untrodden path. But I begin +my restored life, through God's infinite mercy, with a new inner life; +and He who has given me that, will, I know, freely give me all things +that shall be for my good." + +Mrs. Weston never knew the fulness of joy before those days. Her only +son, in whom all her brightest earthly hopes were centred, had ever been +a source of deep anxiety to her. Her never-ceasing prayer had been that +he might be what he now was--a child of her Father; and in the +realization of her heart's desire she found such joy unspeakable, that +all the cares and troubles of long, weary years seemed as though they +had not been. + +George was soon sufficiently restored to be able to leave his bed and +sit up for a few hours on the sofa. The day for this trial of strength +having been definitely fixed by the doctor, Mrs. Weston wrote at once to +Hardy, inviting him, if he could manage to get away, to come down and +celebrate the event. + +The meeting between the two friends was as joyful as their parting had +been sorrowful. + +"George, my dear old boy," said Hardy, as he shook him by the hand, "it +does my eyesight good to see you again." + +"And it does my heart good to see you, old fellow," replied George, as +he returned the pressure. "You don't know how I have longed for your +coming, that I might tell you how deeply grateful I am to you for all +your brotherly love--" + +"Good-bye, George," said Hardy, taking up his hat and buttoning his +coat; "I won't stay another minute unless you give over talking such +stuff What I've done! Why, if my pup, Gip, were to run away, I should do +for him what I have done for you--no more, no less. So let us drop the +subject, that's a good fellow, and then I'll sit down and chat with +you." + +Never was there a pleasanter chat by any little party than by that which +assembled in Mrs. Murdoch's best parlour that evening. All hearts were +full of thankfulness, and though there were some painful subjects +discussed, yet the joyful ones far more than counterbalanced them. + +Mr. Brunton found out, in the course of the evening, that he had +something very important to do, and probably Mrs. Weston discovered her +assistance was needed as well, for the friends found themselves, after a +while, alone, which was what they both wanted. + +"You have heard, Hardy, of all the strange things that have happened to +me?" George began, hesitatingly. "I should like to be able to tell you +all about them; but, somehow, I don't know how to put such matters into +words." + +"You mean, George, that one great, solemn, joyful event which has made +your life now something worth living for," said Hardy, relieving him of +a difficulty. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know it. The past two +years have been funny ones to both of us. Religion has been ground on +which we have not been able to tread together, as you know: but, thank +goodness, that has all gone by. Now, I must tell you my mind, George," +he continued, in that frank, manly way which was so natural to him; "I +never gave you credit for sincerity when you took up with those strange +notions which were so dangerous to you. I believed then that they were +convenient principles, which might be stretched and made to agree with +the dictates of your inclination. I do not say you did not believe what +you professed, but I always thought that you forced yourself into that +belief by self-deception. Now, wait, don't interrupt me. I know what you +are going to say; but whatever harm you did to others--God only knows +that--I do not think your change in sentiment did any harm to me! For +this reason--I saw you were not straightforward with your own heart, and +I felt sure you slighted that pure and holy religion in which we had +been instructed from childhood, not because in your heart of hearts you +disbelieved it, but because it condemned that course of conduct which +you were pursuing. Now, was it not so?" + +"Yes, Hardy, you are right. I can trace out now the processes of thought +through which I passed, to lead me to think and act as I did; and I +never knew before what a wretchedly poor thing a morally endowed, +intelligent human being is in his own strength. I did not know how weak +I was. I did feel sometimes oppressed with the idea that I was willingly +blindfolding myself--but, somehow, an argument was always at hand to +weigh down this feeling. But tell me why you think my endeavours to make +you believe as I did never did you injury? God grant they may not to +others." + +"Why, when I observed you, as I tell you I did, it was impossible for me +not to be on my guard. Nay, more, this question tormented me daily, 'You +believe George disregards religion, because it condemns him; if you +regard that religion, but do not practise it, does it not condemn you?' +Now this was a home-thrust, George, which I could not parry off. I tried +to determine not to be such a cowardly, mean-spirited creature as to try +and cheat God by pretending to believe Him, and yet fight under false +colours against Him; and so I gave up many of my old habits, and tried +to start afresh. And now, George, you don't know how thankful I am that +you are different to what you were. We have studied many things +together, joined in many plans and purposes; and now I hope we shall be +able to study the highest and best thing in earth or heaven--what God's +will is, and how to do it." + + * * * * * + +That desire became the watchword of their lives. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE IN LONDON *** + +***** This file should be named 9940-8.txt or 9940-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/4/9940/ + +Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/9940-8.zip b/9940-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e04824c --- /dev/null +++ b/9940-8.zip diff --git a/9940-h.zip b/9940-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b2e7bd --- /dev/null +++ b/9940-h.zip diff --git a/9940-h/9940-h.htm b/9940-h/9940-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3a1843 --- /dev/null +++ b/9940-h/9940-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4961 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + h1,h2,h3,h4 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-variant: small-caps } + h1,h2 { margin-top: 2em } + li,.smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps } + img { border-style: none } + p {margin: 2em 20% 1em 20%} + ol,ul {margin: 3em 20% 3em 20%} + blockquote {margin: 0em 5% 0em 5%} + hr ( margin: 2em 0% 2em 0% } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + + --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Life in London + +Author: Edwin Hodder + +Posting Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #9940] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: November 2, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE IN LONDON *** + + + + +Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br /> +<br /> +<hr width="100%" /> +<p align="center"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="[Frontispiece]" /></p> + +<h1>Life In London</h1> + +<h3>Or The</h3> + +<h3>Pitfalls Of A Great City</h3> + +<h2>By Edwin Hodder, Esq.</h2> + +<h4>1890.</h4> + + + + +<h2>Contents.</h2> + +<ol type="upper-roman"> +<li><a href="#1">The Introduction</a></li> +<li><a href="#2">School-Boy Days</a></li> +<li><a href="#3">Starting Well</a></li> +<li><a href="#4">Meeting A School-Fellow</a></li> +<li><a href="#5">A Farce</a></li> +<li><a href="#6">The Lecture</a></li> +<li><a href="#7">Getting On In The World</a></li> +<li><a href="#8">A Test Of Friendship</a></li> +<li><a href="#9">In Exile</a></li> +<li><a href="#10">Making Discoveries</a></li> +<li><a href="#11">The Sick Chamber</a></li> +</ol> + + + +<a name="1"></a> +<h2>Chapter I.</h2> + +<h3>The Introduction.</h3> + +<p>Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street in +Islington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience, +until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon the +panels.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as he +hurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron on +and sleeves tucked up, was busy in her domestic affairs. "Such splendid +news!" repeated George. "I have been down to Mr. Compton's with the +letter Uncle Henry gave me, in which he said I wanted a situation, and +should be glad if Mr. Compton could help me; and, sure enough, I was +able to see him, and he is such a kind, fatherly old gentlemen, mother. +I am sure I shall like him."</p> + +<p>"Well, George, and what did he say!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I've got ever so much to tell you, before I come to that part. The +office, you know, is in Falcon Court, Fleet Street; such a dismal place, +with the houses all crammed together, and a little space in front, not +more than large enough to turn a baker's bread-truck in. All the windows +are of ground glass, as if the people inside were too busy to see out, +or to be seen; and on every door there are lots of names of people who +have their offices there, and some of them are actually right up at the +top storeys of the houses. Well, I found out the name of Mr. Compton, +and I tapped at a door where 'Clerk's Office' was written. I think I +ought not to have tapped, but to have gone in, for somebody said rather +sharply, 'Come in,' and in I went. An old gentleman was standing beside +a sort of counter, with a lot of heavy books on it, and he asked me what +I wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Compton, and had got a letter for +him. He told me to sit down until Mr. Compton was disengaged, and then +he would see me."</p> + +<p>"And what sort of an office was it, George? And who was the old +gentleman? The manager, I suppose!"</p> + +<p>"I think he was, because he seemed to do as he liked, and all the clerks +talked in a whisper while he was there. I had to wait more than +half-an-hour, and I was able to look round and see all that was going +on. It is a large office, and there were ten clerks seated on +uncomfortable high stools, without backs, poring over books and papers. +I don't think I shall like those clerks, they stared at me so rudely, +and I felt so ashamed, because one looked hard at me, and then whispered +to another: and I believe they were saying something about my boots, +which you know, mother, are terribly down at heel, and so I put one foot +over the other, to try and hide them."</p> + +<p>"There was no need of that, George. It did not alter the fact that they +were down at heel; and there is no disgrace in being clothed only as +respectable as we can afford, is there?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit, mother: and I feel so vexed with myself because I knew I +turned red, which made the two clerks smile. But I must go on telling +you what else I saw. The old gentleman seems quite a character—he is +nearly bald, has got no whiskers, wears a big white neckcloth and a tail +coat, and takes snuff every five minutes out of a silver box. Whether he +knows it or not, the clerks are very rude to him: for when he took +snuff, one of them sneezed, or pretended to sneeze, every time, and +another snuffled, as if he were taking snuff too."</p> + +<p>"That certainly does not speak well for the clerks," said Mrs. Weston. +"Old gentlemen do have peculiar ways sometimes, but it is not right for +young people to ridicule them."</p> + +<p>"No, it is not; and I don't like to see people do a thing behind another +one's back they are afraid to do before his face. When the clerks had to +speak to the old gentleman, they were as civil as possible, and said, +'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' to him so meekly, as if they were quite +afraid of him; but after a little while, when he took up his hat and +went out, they all began talking and laughing out loud, although when he +was there, they had only occasionally spoken in low whispers. There was +only one young man, out of the whole lot, who did not join with them, +but kept at his work; and I thought if I got a situation in that office, +I should try and make friends with him."</p> + +<p>"That's right, George. I would rather you should not have a situation at +all, than get mixed up with bad companions. But go on, I am so anxious +to hear what Mr. Compton said."</p> + +<p>"Well, after half-an-hour, I heard a door in the next room close, and a +table-bell touched, and then the old gentleman, who had by this time +returned, went in Presently he came out again, and said Mr. Compton +would see me. Oh, mother! I felt so funny, you don't know. My mouth got +quite dry, my face flushed, and I couldn't think whatever I should say, +I felt just as I did that day at the school examination, when I had to +make one of the prize speeches. But I got all to rights directly I saw +Mr. Compton. He said, 'Good morning to you—be seated,' in such a nice +way, that I felt at home with him at once."</p> + +<p>"And what did you say to him, George?"</p> + +<p>"I had learnt by heart what I was going to say, but in the hurry I had +forgotten every word. So I said, 'My name is—' (it's a wonder I did not +say Norval, for I felt a bit bewildered at the sound of my own voice) +'—my name is George Weston, sir, and I have brought you a letter from +my uncle, Mr. Henry Brunton, who knows you, I think.' 'Oh! yes," he +said, 'he knows me very well; and, if I mistake not, this letter is +about you, for he was talking to me about a nephew the other day.' Isn't +that just like Uncle Henry?—he never said anything about that to us, +but he is so good and kind, we are always finding out some of his +generous actions, about which he never speaks. While Mr. Compton was +reading the letter, I had leisure to look at him, and at his room. He is +such a fine-looking old man, just like that picture we saw in the +Academy, last year, of the village squire. He looks as if he were very +benevolent and kind-hearted, and he dresses just like some of the +country gentlemen, with a dark green coat and velvet collar, a frill +shirt, and a little bit of buf. waistcoat seen under his coat, which he +keeps buttoned. He had got lots of books, and papers, and files about, +and sat hi an arm-chair so cosily—in fact, I should not have thought +that nice carpeted room was really an office, if it had not been for the +ground-glass windows. Just as I was thinking why it was the glorious +sunshine is not admitted into offices, Mr. Compton said—"</p> + +<p>"What did he say, George? I have waited so patiently to hear."</p> + +<p>"He said, 'Well, <i>Mr</i>. Weston,'—(he did really call me Mr. Weston, +mother; I suppose he took me for a young man: it is evident he did not +know I was wearing a stick-up shirt collar for the first time in my +life)—'I have read this letter, and am inclined to think I may be able +to do something for you.' That put my 'spirits up,' as poor father used +to say; and I said, 'I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.' So then he told me +that he wanted a junior clerk in his office, who could write quickly, be +brisk at accounts, and make himself generally useful, as the +advertisements in the <i>Times</i> say. I told him I could do all these +things; and he passed me a sheet of paper, to give him a specimen of my +handwriting. I hardly knew what to write, but I fixed upon a passage of +Scripture, 'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the +Lord.' My hand was so shaky, that all the letters with tails to them had +the queerest flourishes you ever saw. Mr. Compton smiled when I handed +him the sheet of paper—I don't know whether it was at the writing, or +at the quotation, and I wished I had written a passage from Seneca +instead!"</p> + +<p>"You did not feel ashamed at having written a part of God's word, did +you, George?"</p> + +<p>"No, not ashamed, mother; but I thought it was not business-like, and +seemed too much like a schoolboy."</p> + +<p>"I think it was very business-like. It would convey the idea that you +would seek to do your business from the best and highest motives. But +what did Mr. Compton say?"</p> + +<p>"He only said he thought the handwriting was good. Then he told me that +he would take me as his clerk, and should expect me to be at my post +next Monday morning, at nine o'clock. 'And now,' he said, 'we must fix +upon a salary; and as your uncle has told me that you are anxious to +maintain yourself, I will give you a weekly sum sufficient for that +purpose; and if you give me satisfaction, I will raise it yearly.' And +what do you think he offered me, mother?"</p> + +<p>"I really do not know; perhaps, as you are young, and have never been in +a situation before, he said five shillings a week, although I did not +think you would get any salary at all for the first six months."</p> + +<p>"No, mother, more than five shillings; guess again," said George, his +face shining with excited delight.</p> + +<p>"Then I will guess seven and sixpence a week," said his mother, +doubtfully, for she thought she had gone too high.</p> + +<p>"More than that, mother; guess only once more, for I cannot keep it in +if you are not very quick."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall say ten shillings a week, George; but I am afraid I have +guessed too much."</p> + +<p>"No, mother, under the mark again. I am to have ten shillings and +sixpence—half a guinea a week! Isn't that splendid? Only fancy, Mr. +George Weston, Junior Clerk to Mr. Compton, at half-a-guinea a week! My +fortune is made; and, depend upon it, mother, we shall get on in the +world now, first-rate. Why, I shall only want—say, half-a-crown a week +for myself, and then there will be all the rest for you. Now don't you +think blind-eyed Fortune must have dropped her bandage this morning, and +have spied me out?"</p> + +<p>"No, George; but I think that kind Providence; which has always smiled +upon us when we have been in the greatest difficulties, has once more +shown us that all our ways are in the hands of One who doeth all things +well."</p> + +<p>"So do I, mother; and I do hope that this success, which has attended my +journey this morning, may turn out to our real good. I feel it will—we +shall be able to go on now so swimmingly, and I shall be getting a +footing in the world, so that by-and-bye we shan't have a single debt, +or a single care, and you will be growing younger as fast as I grow +older: and then, after a time, we will get a little house in the +country, and finish up our days the happiest couple in the British +dominions."</p> + +<p>For the remainder of that day, poor George was in a regular whirl of +excitement. A thousand schemes were afloat in his mind about the future, +of the most improbable kind. His income of half-a-guinea a week was to +do wonders, which were never accomplished by half a score of guineas. +He speculated about the rise in his salary at the end of the year, which +he was determined, if it rested upon his own industry, should not be +less than a pound a week; and then he forgot the first year, and +commenced calculating what he could do, with his increased salary, till, +at last, worn out with scheming, he said,—</p> + +<p>"Money is a great bother, after all, mother. I've been calculating all +this day how we can spend my salary; and I am really more perplexed than +if Mr. Compton had said I should not have anything for the first six +months. I can't make ends meet if I attempt to do what I have planned, +that's very certain; so I shall quietly wait till the first Saturday +night comes, and I feel the half-guinea in my hand, and then I shall +better realize what it is worth."</p> + +<p>That was a pleasant evening Mrs. Weston and George spent together in +discussing the events of the day, and when it became time to separate +for the night, she said—</p> + +<p>"This is one of the happiest days we have spent for a long time, George. +How your poor father would have enjoyed sharing it with us!" and the +widow sighed.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said George, "I have thought of poor father so many times +to-day, and I have formed a resolution which I mean to try and keep. He +was a good man. I don't think he ever did anything really wrong—and I +recollect so well what he used to tell me, when I was a boy"—(George +had jumped into manhood in a day, he fancied)—"I mean to take him for a +model; and if I find myself placed in dangers and difficulties, I shall +always ask myself, 'What would father have done if he had been in this +case?' and then I should try and do as he would."</p> + +<p>"May you have strength given to you, my deal boy, to carry out every +good resolution! But remember, there is a model which must be taken even +before that of your father. I mean the pure, sinless example of our +Lord; follow this, and adhere to the plain directions of God's word, and +you cannot go wrong. And now, good night; God bless you, my son!"</p> + +<p>It was a long time before George went to sleep; again and again the +events of the day came to his memory, and he travelled in thought far +into the future, peering through the mist which hung over unborn time, +and weighing circumstances which might never have a being.</p> + +<p>"I shall be quite accustomed to my duties by next Monday," he said to +his mother in the morning; "for I was all night long busy in the office, +counting money, posting books, and when I awoke I was just signing a +deed of partnership in the name of Compton and Weston."</p> + + + + +<a name="2"></a> +<h2>Chapter II.</h2> + +<h3>School-Boy Days.</h3> + +<p>George Weston was an only son, and, at the time our story commences, was +nearly seventeen years of age. His early years had been spent at home, +under the watchful care of kind and good parents. When he was ten years +old he was sent to a boarding school at Folkestone, and placed in the +charge of Dr. Seaward, a good man, who superintended his education, and, +besides imparting secular instruction, endeavoured to train his +character and make him good as well as clever. George was a sharp, +shrewd boy, a keen observer, who would know the why and the wherefore of +everything, and his lessons always came to him more as an amusement than +a task. He had a horror of being low down in his class, and if he did +not retain his place at the top, it was rarely through inattention or +want of study on his part.</p> + +<p>George was a great favourite with the whole school; he was a merry, +joyous fellow, who always had sunshine in his face and a kind word on +his lips; a ringleader in any harmless fun, and a champion on the side +of all the younger boys who met with oppression or injustice from the +elder classes. At cricket or football, swimming or boating, George had +few superiors; and as he was one of those boys who seem determined, +whatever they do, to do it with all their might, he went heart and soul +into all the spoils with such a zest and earnestness that he acquired +the name of the "Indefatigable." Nor did this name merely apply to his +zeal in sports. There was not in the whole school a more diligent +student than George: there was for him "a time to work and a time to +play," and he never allowed one to trespass upon the other. He would +rather go without a game at cricket for a fortnight than be behindhand +in one of his lessons. The boys would laugh at him for this, but George +could bear to be laughed at on such points, because he knew he was in +the right. "I came to school to learn," he would say, "and I don't see +any fun in making my parents pay heavy fees for me every year to play +cricket at the expense of study." Every boy knew there was wisdom in +this, and they secretly admired George for it, although it condemned +their own conduct, more especially when they had to go to him not +unfrequently, and say, "Weston, I shall get in a scrape with these +lessons to-morrow, unless you can help me a bit with them. Do give me a +leg up, that's a good fellow!" and though George never said "No," he did +sometimes take an opportunity to say, "If you did not waste so much time +in play, you might be independent of any help that I can give."</p> + +<p>It was a source of great pleasure to his parents to hear from time to +time, through Dr. Seaward, some good account of his conduct; and when he +returned home at the holiday seasons, generally laden with prizes which +he had victoriously borne off, they did not feel a little proud of their +only son.</p> + +<p>George remained at the school at Folkestone for five years, during which +time he rose from the lowest to the highest form. It was the intention +of his parents then to place him in a college for a year or two, in +order to give him in opportunity to complete his education, and have the +means to make a good start in life. But this purpose was frustrated by +an event which happened only a month before George was to have been +removed.</p> + +<p>One day, when all the boys were out in the playfield, busily engaged in +marking out boundaries for a game at hockey, Dr. Seaward was seen coming +from the house towards the field. This was an unusual event, as he +rarely interfered with them during play hours. "Something's up," said +the boys; and waited expectantly until the Doctor came up to them.</p> + +<p>"Call George Weston," said he; "I want to speak to him."</p> + +<p>"Weston! George Weston!" shouted one or two at once; and George came +running up, nothing abashed, for he knew he had done nothing wrong.</p> + +<p>"George," said the Doctor, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to +come with me; I have something to tell you;" and they walked together +away from the field.</p> + +<p>"What is it, sir? You look pained: I hope I have done nothing to offend +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, George," replied the Doctor; "few lads have ever given me so little +cause of offence at any time as you have. But I <i>am</i> pained. I have some +sad news to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Sad news for me, sir? Oh, do tell me at once. Is anything the matter at +home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, George; a messenger has just arrived to say that your father has +met with a serious accident; he has been thrown from his chaise, and is +much hurt. The messenger is your uncle, Mr. Brunton; and he desires you +to return at once to London with him."</p> + +<p>George waited to hear no more; he bounded away from the Doctor, cleared +the fence which enclosed the garden at a leap, and rushed into the room +where Mr. Brunton was anxiously awaiting him. No tear stood in his eye; +but he was dreadfully pale, and his hands trembled like aspen leaves. +"Oh, uncle!" was all he could say; and, throwing himself into a chair, +he covered his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Come, George, my boy," said Mr. Brunton, tenderly; "do not give way to +distress. Your poor father is seriously hurt, but he is yet alive. We +have just half an hour to catch the train."</p> + +<p>That was enough for George; in a moment he was calm and collected, ran +up to his room to make a few hasty arrangements, and in five minutes was +again with his uncle prepared for the journey.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Dr. Seaward," he said as he left the house.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, my young friend," said the kind-hearted Doctor; "and +grant that you may find His providence better than your fears."</p> + +<p>George thought he had never known the train go so slowly as it did +during that long, wearisome journey to London. At last it arrived at +the terminus, and then, jumping into a cab, they were hurried away +towards Stamford Hill as quickly as the horse could travel.</p> + +<p>"Now, George," said Mr. Brunton, as they came near their journey's end, +"we know not what may have happened while we have been coming here. Be a +man, and recollect there is one who suffers more than you."</p> + +<p>"Do not fear, uncle. I will not add to my mother's grief," was all he +could reply.</p> + +<p>We will not pry into that interview between mother and son when they +first met; there is a grief too solemn for a stranger's eye.</p> + +<p>Mr. Weston was still alive, and that was all that could be said. The +doctors had pronounced his case beyond human skill, and had intimated +that there were but a few hours for him on earth.</p> + +<p>As George stood beside the bed of his dying father, the tears which had +been long pent up came pouring thick and fast down his cheek.</p> + +<p>"Don't give way to sorrow, George," said his father, in a low voice, for +he had difficulty in speaking; "it will be only a little while before we +meet again; for what is life but a vapour, which soon vanisheth away?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, it is so sudden, so sudden!" sobbed George.</p> + +<p>"Therefore, my boy, remember that at all times there is but a step +between us and death; and if for us to live is Christ, then to die is +gain. Make that your motto through life, my dear boy, 'For me to live is +Christ.'"</p> + +<p>That night the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken, and +the spirit of Mr. Weston returned to God who gave it. "Precious in the +eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints."</p> + +<p>Never did a mother more realize the joy of possessing the unbounded love +of an affectionate son, than did Mrs. Weston during those melancholy +days between the death and the funeral of her husband, "Cheer up, dear +mother," he would say; "God is the father of the fatherless, and the +husband of the widow, and did not <i>He</i> say 'to die is gain'?"</p> + +<p>George and Mr. Brunton followed the remains of the good man to their +last resting-place; and then the body was lowered to the grave "in the +sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection."</p> + +<p>Mr. Weston had not been a rich man, nor had he been a far-seeing, +provident man. He had moved in comfortable circumstances, with an income +only sufficient to pay his way in the world, and had made but scanty +provision for the future. At the time of his sudden death, his affairs +were in anything but a satisfactory state; and it was found that it +would be impossible for his widow to live in the same comfortable style +she had formerly done.</p> + +<p>After all his accounts were wound up, it was seen that she would only +have a sufficient sum of money, even if invested in the best possible +manner, to keep her in humble circumstances. She determined therefore to +leave her house at Stamford Hill, and take a smaller one in Islington, +and let some of the rooms to boarders.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton acted the part of a kind brother in all her difficulties; he +was never wearied in advising her, and on him principally devolved all +the necessary arrangements for her removal. Everything he did was with +such delicacy and refinement that, although his hand was daily and +hourly felt, it was never seen.</p> + +<p>One evening, shortly before leaving the locality in which they had lived +so many years, George and his mother walked together to the cemetery +where Mr. Weston had been buried, to pay a farewell visit to that +hallowed spot. They had been too much reduced in circumstances to have a +stone placed over the grave where he lay, and they were talking about it +as they journeyed along, saying, how the very first money they could +afford should be expended for that purpose. What was their surprise to +find a handsome stone raised above the spot, bearing these words:—</p> + +<p align="center"><i>Sacred to the Memory of</i><br /> +MR. GEORGE WESTON,<br /> +Who departed this life, Feb. 18th, 18—, aged 46 years.</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p align="center">"For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."</p> + +<p>Tears of grateful joy stood in their eyes as they recognized another +token of the kind, tender love of Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>The bereavement and change of fortune were borne by the widow with that +fortitude which is only shown by the true Christian. It was hard, very +hard, to begin the world again; to be denied the pleasure of allowing +George to go to college and complete his studies; and to bear the +struggles and inconveniences of poverty. But Mrs. Weston knew that vain +regrets would never alter the case; the Lord had given, the Lord had +taken away, and from her heart she could say cheerfully, "Blessed be +the name of the Lord."</p> + +<p>George had not been idle. Every hour in which he was not occupied for or +with his mother, he was diligently engaged in prosecuting his studies, +and preparing himself for the time when he should be able to procure a +situation. Mr. Brunton had not been anxious for him to enter upon one at +once; he knew how lonely the widow would be without her son, and +therefore he did not take any steps to obtain for George a situation. +But when a twelvemonth had passed, and the keenness of sorrow had worn +off, he mentioned the matter to his friend Mr. Compton; with what +success we have seen in the first chapter.</p> + + + + +<a name="3"></a> +<h2>Chapter III.</h2> + +<h3>Starting Well.</h3> + +<p>Never did days drag along more heavily than those which elapsed between +the interview with Mr. Compton, and the morning when George was to enter +upon his new duties. Every day the office was a subject of much +conversation; and neither George nor his mother ever seemed to weary in +talking over his plans and purposes. George wrote a long letter to Mr. +Brunton, telling him of the successful issue of his application to Mr. +Compton, and thanking him in the most hearty way for all his kindness. +The next day Mr. Brunton replied to George's letter as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"MY DEAR NEPHEW,</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to hear that you have obtained an appointment, and that +you seem so well satisfied with your prospects. May you find it to be +for your good in every way. Remember, you are going into new scenes, and +will be surrounded with many dangers and temptations to which you have +hitherto been a stranger. Seek to be strong against everything that is +evil; aim at the highest mark, and press towards it. Much of your future +depends upon how you begin—therefore begin well; hold yourself aloof +from everything with which your conscience tells you you should not be +associated, and then all your bright dreams may, I hope, be fully +realized.</p> + +<p>"I shall hope to be with you for an hour or two on Sunday evening.</p> + +<p>"You will have some unavoidable expenses to incur before entering upon +your duties, and will require a little pocket-money. Accept the enclosed +cheque, with the love of</p> + +<p align="right">"Your affectionate Uncle,<br /> +"HENRY BRUNTON."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>George's eyes sparkled with delight as he read the letter; and found the +enclosure to be a cheque for five pounds. This was a great treasure and +relief to him, for he had thought many times about his boots, which were +down at heel, and his best coat, which shone a good deal about the +elbows, and showed symptoms of decay in the neighbourhood of the +button-holes.</p> + +<p>A new suit of clothes and a pair of boots were therefore purchased at +once, and when Sunday morning came, and George dressed himself in them, +and stood ready to accompany his mother to the house of God, she thought +(although, of course, she did not say so) that she had never seen a more +handsome and gentlemanly-looking youth than her son.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said George, as they walked along, "what a treat the Sunday +will always be now, after being pent up in the office all the week. I +shall look forward to it with such pleasure, not only for the sake of +its rest, but because I shall have a whole day with you."</p> + +<p>"The Sabbath is, indeed, a boon," replied Mrs. Weston, "when it is made +a rest-day for the soul, as well as for the body. You remember those +lines I taught you, when you were quite another fellow, before you went +to school, do you not?—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"'A Sunday well spent brings a week of content<br /> + And health for the toils of the morrow;<br /> +But a Sabbath profaned, whatsoe'er may be gained,<br /> + Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'"</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Yes, mother, I remember them; and capital lines they are. Dr. Seaward +once said, 'Strike the key-note of your tune incorrectly, and the whole +song will be inharmonious;' so, if the Sabbath is improperly spent, the +week will generally be like it."</p> + +<p>That morning the preacher took for his text the beautiful words in +Isaiah xli. 10, "Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed, for +I am thy God: I will strengthen thee—yea, I will help thee yea, I will +uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." These words came +like the sound of heavenly music into the soul of the widow; and she +prayed, with the fervency a mother alone can pray for a beloved and only +son, that the time might speedily come when he would be able to +appropriate these words, and realize, in the true sense of the term, God +as his Father. For George, although he had from early infancy been +brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and had learnt to +love holiness from so constantly seeing its beauty exemplified by his +parents, had not yet undergone that one great change which creates the +soul anew in Christ Jesus.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton arrived in the evening, just as Mrs. Weston and George were +starting out to the second service, and so they all went together to the +same place. The minister, an excellent man, who felt the responsibility +of his office, and took every opportunity of doing good, was in the +habit of giving four sermons a year especially to young men, and it so +happened that on this evening one of these discourses was to be +delivered. Nothing could have been more appropriate to a young man just +starting out in life than his address. The text was taken from those +solemn, striking words of the wise man, "My son, if sinners entice +thee, consent thou not."</p> + +<p>He spoke of the powerful influences continually at work to allure young +travellers along life's journey into the snares and pitfalls of sin, and +pointed to God's armoury, and the refuge from all the wiles of the +adversary.</p> + +<p>As the trio sat round the supper-table that evening, discussing the +events of the day, George said—</p> + +<p>"I feel very glad that this Sunday has come before I go to Mr. +Compton's. I thought, when the text was given out this evening, that the +minister had prepared his sermon especially for me. I have no doubt all +he said was quite true; and so, being prepared, I shall be able to be on +my guard against the evils which he says are common to those who make +their first start in life."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Brunton rose to leave that night, he took George aside; and, +laying his hand on his shoulder, said—</p> + +<p>"George, I am glad you have got your appointment, my boy; but I am +sorry, for some reasons, that it is in Mr. Compton's office, for I have +made inquiries about the clerks there, and I regret to find that they +are not the set of young men I should have liked you to be with. Now, I +want you to make me a promise. If ever you are placed in critical +circumstances, or dangers, or difficulties (I say <i>if</i>, because I do not +know why you should, but <i>if</i> you are), be sure and come to me. Tell me, +as you always have done, honestly and openly, your difficulty, and you +will always find in me one willing to advise and assist you. Will you +promise?"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart I will, uncle; and thank you, too, for this, and all +your interests on my account."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, then, George. Go on and prosper; and God bless you."</p> + +<p>Punctually at nine o'clock on Monday morning, George was at the office. +Mr. Sanders, the manager (the old gentleman whom George had seen on his +first visit), introduced him to the clerks by saying—</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. George Weston, our new junior;" and George, with his face +all aglow, made a general bow in return to the salutations which were +given him.</p> + +<p>"This is to be your seat," said Mr. Sanders; "and that peg is for your +hat. And now, as you would, no doubt, like to begin at once, here is a +document I want copied."</p> + +<p>George was glad to have something to do; he felt all eyes were upon him, +and the whispered voices of the clerks rather grated upon his ears. He +took up his pen, and began to write; but he found his hand shaky, and he +was so confused that, after he had written half a page, and found he had +made two or three blunders, he was obliged to take a fresh sheet, and +begin again.</p> + +<p>"Take your time," said Mr. Sanders, who noticed his dilemma; "you will +get on right enough by-and-bye, when you are more accustomed to the +place and the work."</p> + +<p>George felt relieved by this; and making up his mind to try and forget +all around him, he set to work busily again, and in an hour or two had +finished the job.</p> + +<p>"I have done this, sir," he said, taking it to Mr. Sanders. "What shall +I do next?"</p> + +<p>"We will just examine it, and then you may take it into Mr. Compton's +room. After that you can go and get your dinner, and be back again in an +hour."</p> + +<p>The document was examined, and, to the surprise of George and Mr. +Sanders, not one mistake was found. "Come, this is beginning well," said +the manager; "we shall soon make a clerk of you, I see."</p> + +<p>When George went into Mr. Compton's room, and presented the papers, he +was again rewarded with an encouraging commendation. "This is very well +written—very well written indeed, and shows great painstaking," he +said.</p> + +<p>George felt he could have shaken hands with both principal and manager +for those few words. "How cheap a kind word is," he thought, "to those +who give it; but it is more precious than gold to the receiver. I like +these two men; and, if I can manage it, they shall like me too."</p> + +<p>George had not as yet exchanged a word with any of the clerks; but as he +was leaving the office to go to dinner, one of them was going out at the +same time, on the same errand.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Weston, you find it precious dull, don't you, cooped up in +your den?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean the office?" said George.</p> + +<p>"Yes; what else should I mean?"</p> + +<p>"It seems a comfortable office enough," said George, "and not +particularly dull; but I have not had sufficient experience in it to +judge."</p> + +<p>"You see, that old ogre (I beg his pardon, I mean old Sanders) takes +jolly good care there shall be no flinching from work while he's there, +and it makes a fellow deuced tired, pegging away all day long."</p> + +<p>"If this is a specimen of the clerks," thought George, "Uncle Brunton +was not far wrong when he said they were not a very good set."</p> + +<p>"From what I have seen of Mr. Sanders," he said, "I think him a very +nice man! and as for work, I always thought that was what clerks were +engaged to do, and therefore it is their duty to do it, whether under +the eye of the manager or not."</p> + +<p>George got this sentence out with some difficulty. He felt it was an +aggressive step, and did not doubt it would go the round of the office +as a tale against him.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" said the clerk; "you've got a thing or two to learn yet, I see. +You must surely be fresh and green from the country; but such notions +soon die out. I don't like to be personal though, so we'll change the +subject. Where are you going to dine? Most of our chaps patronize the +King's Head—first-rate place; get anything you like in two twinklings +of a lamb's tail. I'm going there now; will you go? By the way, I should +have told you before this that my name is Williams."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, Mr. Williams,' the King's Head is a tavern? If so, I prefer +a coffee-house; but thank you, notwithstanding, for your offer."</p> + +<p>"By George! that's a rum start. Our chaps all hate coffee-shops, with +the exception of young Hardy, and he's coming round to our tastes now. +You can get a good feed at the King's Head—stunning tackle in the shape +of beer, and meet a decent set of fellows who know how to crack a joke +at table; whereas, if you go to a coffee-shop, you have an ugly slice of +meat set before you, a jorum of tea leaves and water, or some other +mess, and a disagreeable set of people around. Now, which is best?"</p> + +<p>"Your description is certainly unfavourable in the latter case; but I do +not suppose all coffeehouses are alike, and therefore I shall try one +to-day. Good morning."</p> + +<p>George soon found a nice-looking quiet place where he could dine, and +felt sure he had no need to go to taverns for better accommodation.</p> + +<p>When he returned to the office, at two o'clock, Mr. Sanders was absent, +and the clerks were busily engaged, not at work, but in conversation. +Mr. Williams was the principal speaker, and seemed to have something +very choice to communicate. George made no doubt that he was the subject +of conversation, for he had caught one or two words as he entered, which +warranted the supposition. He had nothing to do until Mr. Sanders +returned; this was an opportunity, therefore, for Mr. Williams to make +himself officious.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston," he said, "allow me to do the honours of the office by +introducing you, in a more definite manner than that old ——, I mean +than Mr. Sanders did this morning. This gentleman is Mr. Lawson, this is +Mr. Allwood, this is Mr. Malcolm, and this my young friend, Mr. Charles +Hardy, who is of a serious turn of mind, and is meditating entering the +ministry, or the undertaking line."</p> + +<p>A laugh at Hardy's expense was the result of this attempt at jocularity +on the part of Mr. Williams. George hardly knew how to acknowledge these +introductions; but, turning to Charles Hardy, he said,—</p> + +<p>"As Mr. Williams has so candidly mentioned your qualities, Mr. Hardy, +perhaps you will favour me with a description of his."</p> + +<p>Hardy rose from his seat, for up to this time he had been engaged in +writing, and, in a tone of mock gravity, replied,</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Williams, who lives at the antipodes of everything that is +quiet or serious, whose mission to the earth seems expressly to turn +everything he touches into a laugh. He is not a 'youth to fortune and +to fame unknown,' for in the archives of the King's Head his name is +emblazoned in imperishable characters."</p> + +<p>"Well said, Hardy!" said one or two at once. "Now, Williams, you are on +your mettle, old boy; stand true to your colours, and transmute the +sentence into a joke in self-defence."</p> + +<p>Williams was on the point of replying when Mr. Sanders entered. In an +instant all the clerks pretended to be up to their eyes in business; +each had his book or papers to hand as if by magic; whether upside down +or not was immaterial.</p> + +<p>But George Weston stood where he was; he could not condescend to so mean +an imposition, and he felt pleased to see that Charles Hardy, unlike the +others, made no attempt to hide the fact that he had been engaged in +conversation, instead of continuing at his work.</p> + +<p>At six o'clock the day's duties were over; and George felt not a little +pleased when the hour struck, and Mr. Sanders told him he could go. +Hardy was leaving just at the same time, and so they went out together.</p> + +<p>"Are you going anywhere in my direction?" said Hardy; "I live at +Canonbury."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" replied George; "I'm glad to hear that, for I live at +Islington, close by you. If you are willing, we will bear one another +company, for I want to ask you one or two questions;" and taking Hardy's +arm, the two strolled homewards together.</p> + +<p>Now George would never have thought of walking arm in-arm with Mr. +Williams, or any of the other clerks; but, from the first time he saw +Hardy, and noticed his quiet, gentlemanly manners, he felt sure he +should like him. Hardy, too, had evidently taken a fancy to George; and +therefore both felt pleased that accident had brought them together. +Accident? No, that is a wrong word; whenever a heart feels that there is +another heart beating like its own, and those two hearts go out one +towards the other, until they become knit together in the bonds of +friendship, there is something more than accident in that.</p> + +<p>"How long have you been in Mr. Compton's office?" said George, as they +walked along,</p> + +<p>"Nearly two years," he replied; "I went there as soon as I left school. +I was then about seventeen years old; and there I have been ever since."</p> + +<p>"Then you are my senior by two years," said George. "I left school a +year ago, and this is my first situation. How do you like the office?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean my particular seat, the clerks, or the duties, or all +combined?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to know how you like the whole combined."</p> + +<p>"I prefer my desk to yours, because I sit next to Mr. Malcolm, who is +one of the steadiest and most respectable clerks in the office; and +therefore I am not subject to so much annoyance as you will be, seated +next to that empty-headed Williams, and coarse low-minded Lawson. I do +not really like any of the clerks; there are none of them the sort of +young men I should choose as companions. As to the duties, they are +agreeable enough, and I have nothing to find fault with on that score."</p> + +<p>"I tell you candidly," said George, "I am not prepossessed in favour of +the clerks; they are far too 'fast' a set to please me; but I am very +glad, for my own sake, that you are in the office, Mr. Hardy."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because, although we are almost strangers at present, I know I shall +find in you some one who will be companionable. You don't seem very +thick with the others; you don't join with them in that mean practice of +shirking work directly Mr. Sanders's back is turned; and you don't, from +what I have heard, approve of the society at the King's Head, in which +the others seem to take so much delight. Now, in these points, I think, +our tastes are similar."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Mr. Weston," said Hardy, "you will find, as I have done, that +amongst such a set we are obliged to allow a great many things we do not +approve. But I'm very glad you have come amongst us; unity is strength, +you know, and two can make a better opposition than one. Now, will you +let me give you a hint?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said George.</p> + +<p>"Be on your guard with Lawson and Williams; they are two dangerous young +men, and can do no end of mischief, because they are double-faced—sneaking +sometimes, and bullying at others. I don't know whether you have heard +that you are filling a vacancy caused by one of our clerks leaving the +office in disgrace. It is not worth while my telling you the story now, +but that poor chap would never have left in the way he did, had it not +been for Lawson and Williams."</p> + +<p>"Many thanks, Mr. Hardy, for your information and advice, upon which I +will endeavour to act. And now, as our roads lay differently, we must +say good evening."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, then, till to-morrow," said Hardy. "By-the-bye, I pass this +road in the morning, at half-past eight; if you are here we will walk to +the office together."</p> + +<p>It took George the whole of the evening to give his mother a full +account of the day's proceedings; there were so many questions to ask on +her part, and so many descriptions to give on his, and such a number of +events occurred during the day, that it seemed as if he had at least a +week's experience to narrate.</p> + +<p>"I like Hardy, mother," said George, once or twice during the evening; +"he is such a thorough open-hearted fellow, and I know we shall get +along together capitally."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, my boy," said his mother; "but be very careful how you form +any other friendships."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Western retired to her room for the night, it was not to +sleep. She felt anxious and uneasy about George; she thought of him as +the loving, gentle child, the merry, light-hearted boy, and the manly, +conscientious youth. Then she thought of the future. How would he stand +against the evil influences surrounding him? Would his frank, ingenuous +manner change, and the confidence he always reposed in her cease? Would +he be led away by the gay and thoughtless young men with whom he would +be associated?</p> + +<p>Tears gathered in the widow's eyes, and many a sigh sounded in that +quiet room; but Mrs. Weston had a Friend at hand, to whom she could go +and pour out all her anxieties. She would cast her burden on Him, for +she knew He cared for her. As she knelt before the mercy-seat, these +were her prayers:—</p> + +<p>"Lord, create in him a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within him. +May he remember Thee in the days of his youth. Heavenly Father, lead him +not into temptation, but deliver him from evil Guide him by Thy counsel, +and lead him in the paths of righteousness, for Thy Name's sake."</p> + + + + +<a name="4"></a> +<h2>Chapter IV.</h2> + +<h3>Meeting A School-Fellow.</h3> + +<p>Six months passed rapidly away. George continued to give satisfaction to +Mr. Compton, soon learnt the office routine, and earned the warmest +expressions of approbation from Mr. Sanders, who said he was the best +junior clerk he ever remembered to have entered that office.</p> + +<p>George had carefully guarded against forming any kind of intimacy with +the other clerks; he had declined to have more to say to them during +office hours than possible, and when business was over he purposely +shunned them. But a strong friendship had sprung up between him and +Charles Hardy; every morning they came to the city together, and +returned in company in the evening. Sometimes George would spend an +evening at the house of Hardy's parents, and Hardy, in like manner, +would occasionally spend an evening with George.</p> + +<p>Williams and Lawson had, as Hardy predicted, been a source of great +annoyance to George. He was constantly obliged to bear their ridicule +because he would not conform to their habits, and sometimes the insults +he received were almost beyond his power of endurance. He and Hardy +received the name of the "Siamese youths," and were generally greeted +with such salutations as "How d'ye do? Is mamma pretty well?"—or +something equally galling. But George bore it all with exemplary +patience, and he did not doubt that after a while they would grow tired +of annoying him. At all events, he felt certain some new policy would be +adopted by them; for he had so risen in the estimation of his employer, +who began to repose confidence in him, and entrust him with more +important matters than he allowed the others to interfere with, that +George anticipated the time when the clerks would either be glad to +curry favour with him, or at least have to acknowledge that he was +regarded more highly than they were.</p> + +<p>So matters went on. Mrs. Weston was full of joy as she saw how well +George had kept his resolutions, and full of hope that he would continue +as he had begun.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton had given him many kind encouragements during this time, and +had felt himself well rewarded for all his trouble on George's behalf +by hearing from Mr. Compton of the satisfaction his services had given.</p> + +<p>And now an event occurred, simple and unimportant in itself, and yet it +was one that affected the whole of George's after-life.</p> + +<p>One evening, as he was leaving the office, and had just turned into +Fleet-street, a nice-looking, fashionably-dressed young man came running +up, and, clapping him on the shoulder, exclaimed,</p> + +<p>"What! George Weston, my old pippin, who ever thought of turning you up +in London!"</p> + +<p>"Harry Ashton! my old school-chum, how are you?" and the two friends +shook hands with a heartiness that surprised the passers-by.</p> + +<p>"Where ever have you been to, all these long years, George?" said Aston; +"only fancy, we have never seen each other since that day we were +playing hockey at dear old Dr. Seaward's, and you were hastily called +away to London. The Doctor told us the sad news, and we all felt for you +deeply, old fellow; in fact I never recollect the place having been so +gloomy before or since."</p> + +<p>"It was a sad time for me," said George; "and after that I lived at home +for a twelvemonth. Then I got an appointment in an office in +Falcon-court, and have held it just six months. Now, tell me where you +have sprung from, and where you have been since I last saw you?"</p> + +<p>"I stayed only six months longer at Dr. Seaward's and was then articled +to a surveyor in the Strand, with whom I have been nearly a year, and +now I am bound for my lodgings, and you must come with me."</p> + +<p>"You had better come with me," said George; "my mother will be so +pleased to welcome an old school-fellow of mine, and she is not +altogether a stranger to you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, old fellow," replied Ashton; "I shall be very glad to accept +your invitation some other night; but, after our long separation, we +want to have a quiet, confidential chat over old times together, and I +must introduce you to my crib. I am a bachelor—all alone in my glory. +The old folks still live in the country, and I boarded at first in a +family; but that that was terribly slow work, and since that time I have +hung out on my own hook. So come along, George; I really can't hear any +excuse."</p> + +<p>George hesitated only a moment; he had never spent an evening from home +without first acquainting his mother; but this was an unusual event, +and he was so anxious to hear about Dr. Seaward, and talk over old +school days, the temptation was irresistible.</p> + +<p>Harry Ashton called a cab, much to George's surprise, into which they +jumped; and were not very long in getting into the Clapham road, where +they alighted before a large, nice looking house.</p> + +<p>"This is the crib," said Ashton, as he ushered George into a large +parlour, handsomely furnished with everything contributing to comfort +and amusement. "Now, make yourself at home. Here are some cigars +(producing a box of Havannahs), and here (opening a cellaret) is bottled +beer and wine; which shall it be?"</p> + +<p>"As to smoking, that is a bad habit, or an art (which you like) I have +never yet practised," said George; "but I will join you in a glass of +wine just to toast 'Dr. Seaward and our absent friends in the school.'"</p> + +<p>Then the two school friends fell into conversation. Many and many a +happy recollection came into their minds, and one long yarn was but the +preface to another.</p> + +<p>"Come, George, fill up your glass," said Ashton repeatedly; but George +declined.</p> + +<p>Two or three hours slipped rapidly away, and then George rose to leave. +"Not a bit of it, George," said Ashton; "we must have some supper and +discuss present times yet. I have not heard particulars of what you are +doing, or how you are getting on, and you only know I'm here, without +any of the history about it."</p> + +<p>So George yielded: how could he help it? Harry Ashton had become his +bosom-chum during the five years he had been at school, and all the old +happy memories of those days were again fresh upon him.</p> + +<p>"Now, George, tell your story first, and then mine shall follow." Then +George narrated all the leading circumstances which had attended his +life, from the time he left school up to that very evening, and a long +story it was.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Ashton, "for mine. When you left Folkestone I got up to your +place at the head of the school, and there I held on till I left. Six +months after you left, the holidays came, and I came up to town. I spent +a few days with Mr. Ralston, an old friend of the family, and one of the +first engineers and surveyors in London. He took a liking to me, offered +to take me into his office, wrote to the governor (I know you don't like +that term, though—I mean my father), proposed a sum as premium, +arrangements were made; and, instead of returning to school, I came to +London and commenced learning the arts and mysteries of a profession. I +had only been with Mr. Ralston two or three months, when one morning my +father came into the office, out of wind with excitement, and said, +'Harry, I have got sad and joyful, and wonderful news for you! Poor old +Mr. Cornish is dead; the will has been opened, and—make up your mind +for a surprise—the bulk of his property is left to you.' I was +thunderstruck. I knew the old gentleman would leave me something, but I +did not know that he had quarrelled with his relatives, and therefore +appropriated to me the share originally intended for them. So, you see, +I have stepped into luck's way. I am allowed an income now which amounts +to something like two hundred a year, as I shall not come into my rights +till I am twenty-one, and how I am not nineteen; so I have a long time +to wait, you see, which is rather annoying. I took this crib, and have +managed to enjoy my existence pretty well, I can assure you. Sometimes I +run down into the country to spend a week or two with the old folks, and +sometimes they come up and see me."</p> + +<p>"Don't you find it rather dull, living here alone, though?" said George.</p> + +<p>"Dull? far from it. I have a good large circle of friends, who like to +come round here and spend a quiet evening; and there are no end of +amusements in this great city, so that no one need never be dull. +Besides, if I am alone, I am not without friends, you see,"—pointing to +a well-stocked book case.</p> + +<p>"I have been running my eye over them, Harry. There are some very nice +books; but your tastes are changed since I knew you last, or you would +never waste your time over all this lot here which seem to have been +best used. I mean the 'Wandering Jew,' 'Ernest Maltravers,' and the +like."</p> + +<p>"I won't attempt to defend myself, George; but when I was at school, I +did as school-boys did: now I have come to London, I do as the Londoners +do. I know there is an absence of anything like reason in this, but I am +not much thrown amongst reasoners. But, to change the subject; now you +have found me out, George, I do hope you will very often chum with me. I +shall enjoy going about with you better than with anybody else; and as +we know one another so well, we shall soon have tastes and habits in +common again, as we used to have."</p> + +<p>Presently the clock struck. George started up in surprise. "What! +twelve o'clock! impossible. It never can be so late as that?"</p> + +<p>"It is, though," said Ashton, "but what of that? you don't surely call +twelve o'clock bad hours for once in a way?"</p> + +<p>"No, not for once in a way," replied George; "but I have never kept my +mother up so late before. Good-bye, old fellow. Promise to come and see +me some night this week. There is my address." And so saying, George ran +out into the street and made his way towards Islington.</p> + +<p>That was an anxious night for Mrs. Weston. "What can have happened?" she +asked herself a hundred times. Fortunately, Mr. Brunton called, and he +assisted to while away the time.</p> + +<p>"George does not often stay out of an evening, does he?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, never," replied Mrs. Weston; "unless it is with his friend, Charles +Hardy, and then I always know where they are, and what they are doing. +But something extraordinary must have happened to-night, and I feel very +anxious to know what it is. Not that I think he is anywhere he ought not +to be. I feel sure he is not," continued Mrs. Weston confidently; "but +what it is that has detained him, I am altogether at a loss to guess."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will not leave you till he comes home," said Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>It was one o'clock before George arrived; it was too late to get an +omnibus, and a cab, he thought, was altogether out of the question; +therefore he had to walk the whole distance—or rather run, for he was +as anxious now to get home as they were to see him.</p> + +<p>He was very much surprised, and, if it must be confessed, rather vexed +on some accounts, to find Mr. Brunton waiting up for him with his +mother.</p> + +<p>His explanation of what had happened, told in his merry, ingenuous way, +at once dissipated any anxiety they had felt.</p> + +<p>"I recollect Harry Ashton well," said Mrs. Weston. "Dr. Seaward pointed +him out to me, the first time I went to see you at Folkestone, as being +one of his best scholars; and he came home once with you in the holidays +to spend a day or two with us, did he not?"</p> + +<p>"That is the same, mother, and a better-hearted fellow it would be hard +to find."</p> + +<p>"There is only one disadvantage that I see in your having him as an +intimate friend," said Uncle Brunton, "and that is, he is now very +differently situated in position to you as regards wealth, and you +might find him a companion more liable to lead you into expense than any +of your other friends, because I know what a proud fellow you are, +George," he said, laughingly, "you like to do as your friends do, and +would not let them incur expense on your account unless you could return +their compliment. But I will not commence a moral discourse to-night—it +is time all good folks should be in bed."</p> + +<p>All the next day George was thinking over the events of the previous +evening; he was pleased to have found out Harry Ashton, and thought he +would be just the young man he wanted for a companion. Then he compared +their different modes of life—Ashton living in luxuriant circumstances, +without anybody or anything to interfere with his enjoyment, and he, +obliged to live very humbly and carefully in order to make both ends +meet; and then came a new feeling, that of restraint.</p> + +<p>"There is Ashton," he thought, "can go out when he likes and where he +likes, without its being necessary to say where he is going or what he +is going to do, and he can come in at night without being obliged to +account for all his actions like a child. If I happen to stay out, there +is Uncle Brunton and my mother in a great state of excitement about me, +which I don't think is right. I really do not wonder that the clerks +have made me a laughing-stock. All this while I have lived in London I +have seen nothing; have not been to any of the places of amusement; and +have not been a bit like the young men with whom I get thrown into +contact. I think Ashton is right, after all, in saying that when he was +at school he did as school-boys did, and when he came to London he did +as the Londoners do. Far be it from me to be undutiful to those who care +for me; but I think, as a young man, I do owe a duty to myself, +different altogether from that which belonged to me as a schoolboy."</p> + +<p>These were all new thoughts to George: he had never felt or even thought +of restraint before; he had never even expressed a wish to do as other +young men did, in wasting precious time on useless amusements; he had +always looked forward to an evening at home with pleasure, and had never +felt the least inclination to wander forth in search of recreation +elsewhere. Nay, he had always condemned it; and when Lawson or Williams, +or any of the other clerks, had proposed such a thing to him, he never +minded bearing their ridicule in declining.</p> + +<p>And here was George's danger. He was upon his guard with his +fellow-clerks, and was able to keep his resolution not to adopt their +ideas, nor fall into their ways and habits; but when those very evils he +condemned in them were presented to him in a different form by Harry +Ashton, his old friend and school-fellow—leaving the principle the +same, and only the practice a little altered—he was off his guard; and +the habits he regarded with dislike in Williams and Lawson, he was +beginning secretly to admire in Ashton.</p> + +<p>As he walked home that evening with Hardy he gave him a long description +of his meeting with Ashton, and all that happened during his interview +and upon his return home.</p> + +<p>"Now, Hardy," said George, "which do you think is really +preferable—Harry Ashton's life or ours? We never go out anywhere; and, +for the matter of that, might as well be living in monasteries, as far +as knowing what is going on in the world is concerned."</p> + +<p>"For my own part, Weston," said Hardy, "I would rather be as I am. Your +friend is surrounded with infinitely greater temptations than we are, +from the fact of his living as he does without any control. He is +evidently free from his parents, and although he is old enough to take +care of himself, still there is a certain restraint felt under a +parent's roof which is very desirable."</p> + +<p>"Quite true," said George; "but that involves a point which has been +perplexing me all day. Should we, after we have arrived at a certain +age, acknowledge a parent's control as we did when we were mere +school-boys? I do not mean are we to cease to honour them, because that +we cannot do while God's commandment lasts; but are we, as Williams +says, always to go in leading-strings, or are we at liberty to think and +act for ourselves?"</p> + +<p>"That depends a good deal on the way in which we wish to think and act. +For instance, my parents object to Sunday travelling and Sunday +visiting. Now, while I am living with them, I feel it would not be right +for me to do either of these things—even though as a matter of +principle I might not see any positive wrong in them—because it would +bring me into opposition with my parents. So, in spending evenings away +from home, I know it would be contrary to their wish, and it is right to +try and prevent our opinions clashing."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you, partly, Hardy; but only partly. We must study our +parents' opinions in the main, but not in points of detail. Suppose I +want to attend a course of lectures, for example, which would take me +from home sometimes in the evening; and my mother objects to my spending +evenings from home, although the study might be advantageous to me—then +I think I should be at liberty to adhere to my own opinion; if not, I +should be under the same restraint I was as a child. It is right and +natural that parents should feel desirous to know what associations +their sons are forming, and what are their habits, and all that sort of +thing; but I am inclined to think it is not right for a parent to +exercise so strong a control as to say, 'So-and-so shall be your +companion;' and, 'You may go to this place, but you may not go to +that.'"</p> + +<p>"Well, Weston, your digestion must be out of order, or you are a little +bilious, or something; for I never heard you talk like this before. I +have told you, confidentially sometimes, that I have wanted to rebel +against the wishes of my parents on some points, and you have always +counselled me, like a sage, grey-headed father, to give up my desire. +But now you turn right round, and place me in the position of the +parent, and you the rebellious son. I recommend, therefore, that you +take two pills, for I am sure bile is at the bottom of this; and then I +will feel your pulse upon this point again."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston noticed a difference in George that evening. He seemed as +if he had got something upon his mind which was perplexing him. He was +not so cheerful and merry as usual, but his mother attributed it partly +to his late hours, followed by a hard day's work, and therefore she said +nothing to him about it.</p> + +<p>A day or two elapsed, and George was still brooding upon the same +subject. He did not know that the great tempter was weaving a subtle net +around him, to lure him into the broad road which leadeth to +destruction. He tried a hundred times to fight against the strange +influence he felt upon him; but he did not fight with the right weapons, +and therefore he failed. Had the tempter suggested to him that, as he +was a young man, he should do as his fellow-clerks, or even Ashton did, +and have his way in all things, he would have seen the temptation; but +it came altogether in a different way. The evil voice said, "You are +under restraint. Ask any young man of your own age, and he will tell you +so. It is high time you should unloose yourself from apron-strings." And +this idea of restraint was preying upon him, and he could not throw it +off. George was anxious to do the right, but did not know how to fight +against the wrong. Conscience whispered to him, "Do you remember that +motto your dying father gave you, 'For me to live is Christ?'" George +replied, "Yes, I remember it; and it is still my desire to follow it." +Conscience said again, "Do you recollect that sermon you heard, and the +resolutions you made, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou +not?'" And he answered, "I remember it well; but I am not aware that any +are endeavouring to entice me."</p> + +<p>This was the effect of the unconscious influence of Harry Ashton. He had +unknowingly fanned a latent spark into a flame, which, unless checked, +would consume all those high and praiseworthy resolutions which George +had formed, and carefully kept for years. He had cast a shadow over the +landscape of his friend's well-being, which made the sign-posts pointing +"upward and onward" almost indistinct. He had breathed into the +atmosphere a subtle malaria, and George had caught the disease. The +little leaven was now mixed with his life, which would leaven the whole. +The genus of that moral consumption, which, unless cured by the Great +Physician, ends in death, had been sown, and were now taking root.</p> + +<p>George was unconscious of any foreign influence working upon him—he +could not see that Ashton had in any way exerted a power over him; nor +in the new and undefined feelings which had taken possession of him +could he recognise the presence of evil. He had consulted conscience, +and, he fancied, had satisfactorily met the warnings of its voice.</p> + +<p>But he had <i>not</i> gone to that high and sure source of strength which can +alone make a way of escape from all temptations; he had <i>not</i> obtained +that armour of righteousness which is the only defence against the fiery +darts of the wicked one; he had <i>not</i> that faith, in the power of which +alone Satan can be resisted; and therefore his eyes were holden so that +he could not see the snares which the subtle foe was laying around him, +nor could he, in his own strength, bear up against the strong tide which +was threatening to overwhelm him.</p> + + + + +<a name="5"></a> +<h2>Chapter V.</h2> + +<h3>A Farce.</h3> + +<p>Harry Ashton kept his promise, and went one evening that week to see +George at Islington. Hardy had been invited to meet him; and the three +friends, as they kept up a perfect rattle of conversation, interspersed +with many crossfired jokes, made the merriest and happiest little party +that could be imagined.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston was very much pleased with Ashton—his refined thought and +gentlemanly address, joined with an open-hearted candour and a fund of +humour which sparkled in every sentence, made it impossible for any one +not to like him. Charles Hardy thought he had never met a more +entertaining companion than Ashton; Ashton thought Hardy was an +intelligent, agreeable fellow; and George declared to his mother that, +if he had had the pick of all the young men in London, he could not have +found two nicer fellows.</p> + +<p>A hundred topics were discoursed upon during the evening, in which +Ashton generally took the lead, and showed himself to be very well +informed on all ordinary subjects. Incidentally the theatre was +mentioned.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen that new piece at the Lyceum?" said Ashton. "It is really +a very capital thing."</p> + +<p>"No," said George. "I have never been to a theatre."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Hardy.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Mrs. Weston.</p> + +<p>"Well, that is really very extraordinary," said Ashton; "I thought +almost everybody went to a theatre at some time or other. But perhaps +you have some objection?"</p> + +<p>"I have," said Mrs. Weston. "I think there is a great deal of evil +learnt there, and very little good, if any. It is expensive; and it +leads into other bad habits."</p> + +<p>"Those last objections cannot be gainsaid," said Ashton; "but they +equally apply to all amusements, and therefore, by that rule, all +amusements are bad."</p> + +<p>"But not in an equal degree with that of the theatre," George remarked; +"because other amusements do not possess such an infatuation. For my +own part, I should not mind going to a concert; but I very much +disapprove of the theatre, and should never hesitate to decline going +there."</p> + +<p>"Yours is not a good argument, George. You have never been to the +theatre, you say, and yet you disapprove of it. Are you right in +pronouncing such an opinion, which cannot be the result of your own +investigation?"</p> + +<p>"I think I am," replied George; "I can adopt the opinions of those whom +experience has instructed in the matter, and in whom I can rely with +implicit confidence. If a man goes through a dangerous track, and falls +into a bog, I should be willing to admit the track was dangerous, and +avoid the bog, without going in to prove the former traveller was right; +and this applies to going to theatres."</p> + +<p>"No, George; there is your error. There would be no two opinions about +the bog; but suppose you go for a tour to the Pyrenees, and, from +prejudice or some other cause, come back disgusted. You warn me not to +go, telling me I shall be wasting my time, and find nothing interesting +to reward my trouble in the journey. But Hardy goes the same tour, comes +home delighted, and says, 'Go to the Pyrenees by all means; it is a +glorious place, the most pleasant in the whole world for a tour.' To +decide the question, I read two books; one agrees with you, and the +other with Hardy. How can I arrive at an opinion unless I go myself, and +see what it is like? So it is with the theatre: some say it is the great +teacher of morals, others that it is the most wicked and hurtful place. +Therefore I think every one should form his own opinion from his own +experience."</p> + +<p>"You may be right," said George, waveringly. "I am not clear upon the +subject; but I do not think, even if I were to form an opinion in the +way you prescribe, that I should ever choose the theatre as a place of +amusement."</p> + +<p>"Then what is your favourite amusement?" asked Ashton.</p> + +<p>"To come home and read, or spend a social evening with a friend," George +answered.</p> + +<p>"Then I know what will suit you all to pieces," said Ashton; "and your +friend Hardy too. I am a member of a literary institution. It is a +first-rate place—the best in London. There are lectures and classes, +and soirées, a debating society, a good library, and rooms for +chess-playing and that sort of thing. Now, you really must join it; it +will be so very nice for us to have a regular place of meeting; and, +besides that, we can combine study with amusement. What do you say, Mrs. +Weston?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot see any objection to literary institutions," said Mrs. Weston; +"but I have always considered them better suited to young men who are +away from home, than for those who have comfortable homes in which to +spend their evenings. You speak about having a regular place of meeting. +I shall always be very pleased to see you and Mr. Hardy here, as often +as ever you can manage to spend an evening with us."</p> + +<p>"Many thanks for your kindness, Mrs. Weston," returned Ashton; "but it +would not be right for us to trespass on your good nature. Now I will +give you and your friend a challenge, George," he continued. "Next +Monday, the first debate of the season comes off; will you allow me to +introduce you to the institution on that evening?—it is a member's +privilege."</p> + +<p>"I shall be very pleased to join you, then," said George. "What say you, +Hardy?"</p> + +<p>"I accept the invitation, with thanks," replied Hardy.</p> + +<p>On Monday night, as George and Hardy journeyed towards the place of +meeting, they discussed the question of joining the institution.</p> + +<p>"If you will, I will," said Hardy. "My parents do not much like the +idea; but, as you said the other evening, 'we must not allow ourselves +to be controlled like mere children.'"</p> + +<p>"I do think we really require a little recreation after business hours; +and we can obtain none better than that of an intellectual kind, such as +is found at literary institutions. The new term has only just commenced; +so we may as well be enrolled as members at once."</p> + +<p>"I wish the institution was a little nearer home," said Hardy, "for it +will be so late of an evening for us to be out. However, we need not +always attend, nor is it necessary we should very often be late. Have +you had any difficulty in obtaining Mrs. Weston's consent to your +joining?"</p> + +<p>"None at all; she prefers my attending an institution of this kind to +any other, although probably she would be better pleased if I did not +join one at all. But, as Ashton says, we really must live up to the +times, and know something of what is going on in the world around us. +Did you not notice, the other evening, how Ashton could speak upon every +subject brought on the carpet? My mother said, 'What a remarkably +agreeable young man he is! he has evidently seen a good deal of +society;' and I think the two things are inseparable—to be agreeable +in society, one must mix more with it."</p> + +<p>Ashton was punctual to his appointment; and all were at the institution +just as the members were assembling for the debate. George was surprised +to find how many of the young men knew Ashton, and he admired the ease +and elegance of his friend in acknowledging the greetings which met him +on every hand.</p> + +<p>"I won't bore you with introductions to-night," he said, "except to just +half-a-dozen fellows in particular, who, I am sure, you will like to +know; and we can all sit together and compare opinions during the +debate."</p> + +<p>The friends were accordingly introduced; and as the proceedings of the +evening went on, and all waxed warm upon the subject under discussion, +the party which Ashton had drawn together soon became known to one +another, and were on terms of conversational acquaintance.</p> + +<p>The meeting separated at ten o'clock, and then George and Hardy essayed +to bid good-night to their friends, and make their way at once towards +Islington.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Ashton; "I want you to come with me to a nice quiet +place I know, close by, and have a bit of supper and a chat over all +that has been said, and then I will walk part of the way home with you."</p> + +<p>"No, not to-night, Ashton; it is quite late enough already; and it will +be past eleven o'clock before we get home as it is."</p> + +<p>"What say you, Hardy? Can you persuade our sage old friend to abandon +his ten o'clock habits for one night?" asked Ashton.</p> + +<p>"I do not like to establish a bad precedent," said Hardy; "and as we +have to-night joined the institution, I think we should make a rule to +start off home as soon as we leave the meetings, because we have some +distance to go, and bad hours, you know, interfere with business."</p> + +<p>"I did not expect you to make a rule to keep bad hours," said Ashton;" +but every rule has an exception—"</p> + +<p>"And therefore it will not do to commence with the exception; so +good-bye, till we meet again on Wednesday."</p> + +<p>Three nights a-week there was something going on at the institution +sufficiently attractive to draw George and Hardy there. One evening a +lecture, another the discussion class, and the third an elocution class, +or more frequently that was resigned in favour of chess. From meeting +the same young men, night after night, a great number of new +acquaintanceships were formed, and George would never have spent an +evening at home, had he accepted the invitations which were frequently +being given him; but he had made a compact with himself, that he would +never be out more than three evenings a week, and would devote the +remainder to the society of his mother. A certain little voice did +sometimes say to him, "Is it quite right and kind of you, George, to +leave your mother so often? Do you not think it must be rather lonely +for her, sometimes, without you?" And George would answer to the voice, +"Mother would never wish to stand between me and my improvement. +Besides, she has many friends who visit her, and with whom she visits; +and few young men of my age give their mothers more than three evenings +of their society a week."</p> + +<p>One evening, as George and Hardy were entering the institution, Harry +Ashton came up to them, and said,—</p> + +<p>"I have just had some tickets sent me for the Adelphi. There is nothing +going on here worth staying for, so I shall go. Dixon will make one, and +you and Hardy must make up the quartette."</p> + +<p>"Dixon going?" asked George; "why, I thought he was such a sedate +fellow, and never went to anything of the sort!"</p> + +<p>"Neither does he, as a rule; but he has never been to the Adelphi, and +he wants to go. Will you accompany us?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said George; "I told you once I did not like theatres; +perhaps you recollect we discussed the point one evening?"</p> + +<p>"We did, and you said you had never been to a theatre: you disapproved +of them, without ever having had an opportunity of judging whether they +were good or bad places. Now, take the opportunity."</p> + +<p>"I am not anxious to form a judgment; and I so dislike all the +associations of a theatre that it would be no pleasure for me to go."</p> + +<p>"Complimentary, certainly!" laughed Ashton. "But I will grant you this +much—there are bad associations connected with the theatres, and this +is the stronghold of objectors; but we are four staid sober fellows, we +shall go to our box without any bother, sit and see the play without +exchanging a word with anybody beyond our own party, and then leave as +soon as the performance is over. You had better say you will go, eh?"</p> + +<p>"No, it would be very late before I got home," said George: "and I do +not like keeping my mother up, more particularly as I was so very late +the other evening. But what do you say, Hardy?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to say," said Hardy. "I did once say to myself I +would never go to a theatre; but I am not sure that there is any moral +obligation why I should keep my word, when the compact rests only with +myself. I have not time to consult Paley, and so I put the question to +you—Can I go, seeing I have said to myself I will not?"</p> + +<p>"Arrange it in this way," said Ashton; "both of you go, and when you get +there, if you decide you have done wrong, then leave at once; or if you +find that your consciences are in durance vile, and you have not +patience or sufficient interest to stay and see the play out, go, and I +will excuse you then with all my heart; but I won't excuse your not +going. Now is your time to decide; for here comes Dixon, true to his +appointment."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have got your party complete, Ashton?" he said; "and if +so, we had better start at once, or the play will have begun before we +get there."</p> + +<p>George pondered no longer. "Suppose we try it, Hardy, on Ashton's +plan," said he; "I don't see any harm in that, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I think that is the best way in which the case can be put," he +replied; "and I don't see that any harm can possibly come of it."</p> + +<p>Away went the party, full of high spirits, bent upon amusement. But +George felt a certain uneasy something, which tried to make him feel +less pleased with himself than usual, and his laugh was at first forced +and unnatural; there was not the same joyousness there would have been +had he been starting on some recreation which he knew would be approved +by parent and friends, and his own conscience. Ashton noticed he did not +seem to be quite at ease; and therefore he brought all his humour into +play to provoke hilarity. By the time they arrived at the theatre, that +love of novelty and excitement which is so natural to young people +completely overcame all other feelings, and the sight of the crowds +flocking into all parts of the house was now an irresistible temptation +to follow in too.</p> + +<p>They were shown into a very comfortable box, commanding a good view of +the whole of the theatre. The thrilling strains of music issuing from +the orchestra, the dazzling lights, and the large assembly of elegantly +dressed ladies in the boxes, a mass of people in the pit, and tiers of +heads in the galleries, filled George with excitement. He who a little +while before had been the dullest of the party, was now the gayest of +the gay; he was lost in astonishment at all he saw and heard, dazzled +with the brilliancy of the scene, and abandoned to all the enjoyments of +the hour.</p> + +<p>The performances that evening consisted of a farce, the comedy of the +"Serious Family," and a ballet. When the curtain rose, and the farce +commenced, George entered heart and soul into the spirit of the +performance; laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks at the +dilemmas of an unlucky wight who acted a prominent part, and stamped +applause in favour of a young lady who tried in every way to defend this +unfortunate individual from his persecutors.</p> + +<p>When it was over, Ashton turned to George, and said—</p> + +<p>"Well, Weston, so much for the farce; now, if you think it is +objectionable, off you go, old fellow, and we will forgive you."</p> + +<p>"No," said George; "I think that farce was capital, and I shall stay now +and see the end. I am not surprised people like the theatre—I never +enjoyed a laugh more in my life. But there is one thing I have not +liked. That hero of the piece did not scruple to use language for which +he would have been kicked out of any respectable private house—and yet +there are respectable people here, old and young, all listening and +seeming to enjoy it. That shows there is insincerity somewhere; either +these people hush their sensitive feelings in the playhouse, or they are +hypocrites at home, and profess to be much more refined than they really +are."</p> + +<p>"You evidently don't understand plays yet," said Ashton; "that man +depicts a certain style of life, and he must be true to it. If he enacts +the part of a costermonger, he must swear and talk slang, and commit +crimes, if need be, or anything suiting the character he assumes; or +else the thing would be absurd, and the gentleman and costermonger would +be both alike."</p> + +<p>"The theatre must be a 'great teacher of morals,' then, if we come here +to be initiated into the vices of costermongers," said George, rather +sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"George," whispered Hardy, "we've got into a mess; look down in the +pit—Williams and Lawson are there. They have recognized us, and are +nodding—shall we nod?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said George, and he nodded; but his face was red as crimson. "I +would not have had Lawson and Williams see us here for the world," he +whispered to Hardy; "but it's too late now—as you say, we've got into a +mess."</p> + +<p>Just then the curtain rose again, and the play of the "Serious Family," +commenced.</p> + +<p>The plot of the piece is this:—</p> + +<p>Mr. Abinadab Sleek and Lady Creamly are two hypocrites, introduced as +ordinary specimens of Christians. They are living in the house of their +daughter and son-in-law (Mr. and Mrs. Charles Torrens), over whom they +exercise a stern and despotic control. Mr. Charles Torrens, "for the +sake of peace and quietness," agrees to all the solemnities opposed upon +him; and is willing to pass himself off in Christian circles as a +co-worker with Mr. Abinadab Sleek. In his heart he detests everything +like seriousness; and whenever an opportunity occurs, on the pretext of +going into the country, indulges in the gaieties and vices of London +fashionable life. He is visited by an old friend, Captain Murphy +Maguire, who persuades him to renounce boldly the sanctimonious customs +of the "Serious Family," and enjoy with unshackled freedom the pleasures +of the world. To this he consents; but he has not courage to alter the +family customs. Captain Maguire aids his plans by convincing Mrs. C. +Torrens that unless she provides in her home those amusements which are +found in the world, her husband will prefer the world to his home. A +conspiracy is laid to oppose the religious tyranny of Mr. Abinadab +Sleek, the result of which is, that a ball is given by Mr. Torrens, +assisted by his wife, who, throwing off her former profession of +Christianity, becomes a woman of the world. On all this their future +happiness as man and wife is made to hinge; and when, through the flimsy +plot of the piece, the tableau arrives, the curtain drops, leaving the +younger members of the "Serious Family" whirling in the giddy dance, +commencing the new era of domestic happiness.</p> + +<p>Throughout the play, Scripture is quoted and ridiculed, religion is made +contemptible, and vice under the name of "geniality, openheartedness, +and merriment," is made to appear the one thing necessary to constitute +real happiness.</p> + +<p>George followed the play through all its shifting scenes; now laughed, +now sighed, now felt the hot blush of shame as he listened to the +atrocious mockery of everything which, from the time he had been an +infant on his mother's knee, he had been taught to regard as good and +pure. He was heated to indignation when the audience applauded the base +character of Maguire, and shuddered when as he thought that a masked +hypocrite was brought before the world as the type of a Christian, and +that a "Serious Family" was only another name for an unhappy, canting +set of ignorant people.</p> + +<p>And yet George did not leave the theatre. He was hurt, wounded to the +heart by what he saw and heard, felt he would have given the world to +have stood up in the box, and have told the audience that the play was a +libel upon everything sacred and solemn; but he stayed and saw it out, +rivetted by that strange, unholy infatuation which has been the bane of +so many.</p> + +<p>"Let us go now, Hardy," he said, as the curtain dropped; "you do not +care to see the ballet, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in for a penny, in for a pound. While we are here, we may as well +see all that is to be seen. I won't ask you how you liked the comedy. I +want to see something lively now, to remove the disagreeable impressions +it has left upon me."</p> + +<p>And so they stayed, delighted with the music, fascinated with the +graceful dancing, and dazzled with the scenery. At length the curtain +fell, and the evening's performance was over.</p> + +<p>"It is only half-past eleven," said Ashton, when they got outside; "now +we must just turn in somewhere, and get a bit of supper, and then, I +suppose we must separate. There is a first-rate hotel close handy, where +I sometimes dine. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>"Just the place for us," said Dixon; "because we must limit ourselves to +half an hour, and we shall get what we want quickly there."</p> + +<p>As they went into the supper-room, George saw, to his vexation, Lawson +and Williams, with a party of boon companions, seated round a table at +the further end. He instantly drew back; but it was too late, they had +recognised him.</p> + +<p>"Confound it!" he said to Ashton, "there are some chaps from our office, +at the end there. I do not wish to meet them; cannot we go into a +private room?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Ashton; and the party retreated. "But why do you not +wish to meet your fellow clerks?"</p> + +<p>"Because they are a low set of fellows with whom I have nothing in +common."</p> + +<p>When supper was over and the clock had struck twelve, the party +separated.</p> + +<p>"Good night, old fellow," said Ashton to George. "I am sorry we have +not seen quite the sort of play you would have liked; but now you have +seen the worst side of the theatre, and next time we go together we will +try and see the best; so that between the two extremes you will be able +to discriminate and determine what sort of place the theatre is as an +amusement."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ashton, for your share in the entertainment to-night. I will +talk to you about the play some other time; but I must say, candidly, I +never felt so distressed in my life as I did while that gross insult to +all good feeling, 'The Serious Family,' was being performed. If you had +said to me what that wretch, Captain Maguire, said in my hearing +to-night, I would not have shaken hands with you again as I do now."</p> + +<p>An omnibus happened to be passing for the Angel at Islington that +moment, and George and Hardy got up.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do with regard to Williams and Lawson?" said Hardy. "They +have got a victory to-night. I fear our protest against theatres and +taverns is over with them for ever now, seeing they have caught us at +both places."</p> + +<p>"I cannot but regret the circumstance," said George, "but it is nothing +to them; they are not our father-confessors, and we are not bound to +enter into any particulars with them. The greatest difficulty with me is +how to manage when I get home. I don't like deceiving my mother; but I +should not like to pain her by saying I have been to the theatre. She +knew I started for the institution, and that I might possibly be late; +so, unless she asks me where I have been, I don't see that there will be +any good in unnecessarily distressing her."</p> + +<p>"The disagreeable thing in such a case is," replied Hardy, "if the fact +comes out afterwards, it <i>looks</i> as if a deception had been practised."</p> + +<p>George and Hardy had never talked together like this before; and they +spoke hesitatingly, as if they hardly liked to hear their own voices +joining to discuss a mean, unworthy, dishonourable trick.</p> + +<p>O temptation! what an inclined path is thine! How slippery for the feet, +and how rapidly the unwary traveller slides along, lower and lower—each +step making the attempt to ascend again to high ground more difficult! +George had made many dangerous slips that night—would he ever regain +his position?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston was sitting up for George, and pleased was she to hear, at +last, his knock at the door.</p> + +<p>"Mother, this is too bad of me, keeping you up so late," said George. "I +really did not mean to keep bad hours to-night; but I will turn over a +new leaf for the future."</p> + +<p>"I do not mind sitting up, George, if it is for your good," she +answered; "but I fear you will not improve your health by being so late +as this. Have you enjoyed your meeting to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty well," said George; "but I have been with Ashton, Dixon, and +Hardy since."</p> + +<p>"Then you have not had supper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we had supper with Ashton." George got red as he said this. It was +the first time he ever remembered wilfully deceiving his mother.</p> + +<p>"Oh! that has made you late, then," said Mrs. Weston. "I am afraid +Ashton has so many attractions in those apartments of his—what with +friends, books, and curiosities—that you find it difficult to break up +your social gatherings."</p> + +<p>"It is too bad of me to leave you so often, my dear mother; but I don't +mean to go to Ashton's again for some time, unless he comes to see us; +and so I shall return straight home from the institution for a long +while."</p> + +<p>When George retired to his room, he felt so distracted with all that +had taken place, that his old custom of reading a chapter from God's +Word, and kneeling down to pray before getting into bed, was abandoned +for that night. He tried to sleep, but could not. The strains of music +were yet ringing in his ears, and the dazzling light was still flashing +before his eyes. Then the plays came again before him; and he followed +the plots throughout, smiling again over some of the jokes, and feeling +depressed at the sad parts. Then he thought of Williams and Lawson, and +reproached himself for having acted that evening very, very foolishly. +Alas! this was not the right term; it was more than foolishness to +tamper with the voice of conscience, to violate principles which had +been inculcated from childhood, to plot wilful deceit, and act a lie. +Instead of saying he had acted foolishly, he should have said, "Father, +I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight Have mercy upon me, O God! +Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquities, and cleanse me from my sin; for +against Thee, Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil." But George +only said, "I am so very vexed I went with Ashton to-night; it was very +foolish!—very foolish!"</p> + + + + +<a name="6"></a> +<h2>Chapter VI.</h2> + +<h3>The Lecture.</h3> + +<p>"You look seedy this morning, Mr. Weston," said Williams, as George +entered the office on the following day. "The effect of last night's +dissipation, I suppose. How did you like the play?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," answered George, mortified and angry at having the +question put to him before all the clerks, who were now informed of the +fact of his having been there.</p> + +<p>"No; I suppose one Abinadab Sleek does not like to hear another one of +the same gang spoken ill of, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you," said George.</p> + +<p>"Then, to put it plainer, you and Hardy, who are of the 'Serious Family' +style, don't like to see yourselves taken off quite so true to life as +you were last night at the Adelphi. You saw that old canting Abinadab +Sleek was up to every dodge and vice, although he did seem such a +sanctified individual in public; and our young Solomons, who condemn +wicked theatres and disgusting taverns, can go to both on the sly, and +be as sanctimonious as ever Abinadab was in office."</p> + +<p>George felt his hands clench, and his eyes flash fire. He could bear +taunts from Williams, when he had right on his side, and felt the +consciousness of innocence; but he could not bear it now.</p> + +<p>"You lie," said George passionately, "in drawing that comparison."</p> + +<p>"And you lie continually," said Williams, "in acting a perpetual edition +of that part of the 'Serious Family' represented by Abinadab Sleek."</p> + +<p>"Fight it out I fight it out!" said Lawson. "The Governor won't be here +for half an hour; bolt the door and have it out."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind," said Hardy, stepping forward. "Williams is the +aggressor in this instance; it is nothing to him if Weston and I went to +the theatre every night in our lives; he has no right to interfere; if +he fights it must be with Weston and me, for he insults me as much as my +friend."</p> + +<p>"Then come on," said Williams, taking off his coat, "and I'll take you +both: one man is worth two canting hypocrites, any day."</p> + +<p>But no one had bolted the door, and, to the surprise of all, Mr. +Compton stood before them.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" he said; "young men in my office talking of fighting, as +if it were the tap-room of a public house? George Weston! I did not +think this of you."</p> + +<p>"Do not judge hastily, sir," said Hardy. "My friend Weston has been +grossly insulted by Mr. Williams, and the little disturbance has only +been got up through jealousy, to get him into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Step into my room a moment, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Compton; "and you, +too, Weston and Williams."</p> + +<p>George was flushed with excitement; but his proud, manly bearing, in +contrast to the crest-fallen Williams, won for him the admiration of the +whole staff of clerks.</p> + +<p>Mr. Compton patiently heard from Hardy a recital of the causes leading +to the fray, and was made acquainted with the course of opposition +George had to contend with, from Williams and Lawson, ever since he had +been in the office.</p> + +<p>"I regret this circumstance," said Mr. Compton, "for several reasons. I +have always held you, Weston, in the highest estimation, nor do I see +sufficient cause, from this event, to alter my estimate; but I have +always found my best clerks those who have been in the habit of spending +their evenings elsewhere than in theatres and taverns. I am not +surprised at the part you have taken, Mr. Williams; and it now rests +with you, whether you remain in this office or leave. I will not have +the junior clerks in this establishment held in subjection to those who +have been with me a few years longer; nor will I have a system of insult +and opposition continued, which must eventually lead to unpleasant +results. If I hear any more of this matter, or find that you persist in +your unwarranted insults on Mr. Weston, I shall at once dismiss you from +my service. You did well, Mr. Hardy, in interfering to prevent a +disgraceful fight; and, much as I dislike tale-bearing, I request you to +inform me, for the future, of any unpleasantness arising to Mr. Weston +from this affair."</p> + +<p>Williams was terribly crest-fallen, and the tide of office opinion +turned from him in favour of George and Hardy, who, without crowing over +the victory they had gained, yet showed a manly determination not to +allow an insult which reflected upon their characters.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what it is," whispered Lawson to Williams; "Old Compton +takes a fancy to those two sneaking fellows, and, after this affair, +the office will get too hot for us if we do not draw it milder to them. +If I were you, I should waylay them outside the office and say something +civil, by way of soft soap, so as to nip this matter off, for you've got +the worst of it so far."</p> + +<p>Williams determined to accept the hint Lawson had given him, and when +the office closed, remained in the court until George came out.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston," he said, stretching out his hand, which George felt would +be mean-spirited not to take, "that was an unpleasant affair this +morning, but I didn't think you would fire up as you did; and when I let +fly at you, it was only in joke."</p> + +<p>"I must deny that it was a joke," George replied; "it was an intended +insult. Probably you might not have thought it would have produced +indignation in me, because you, evidently, do not understand my feelings +in the matter. However, let the thing drop now. I will not retract what +I said to you this morning, that you lied in forming that estimate of my +character, nor do I ask you to retract your words, unless your +conscience tells you that you wronged me."</p> + +<p>"What I said was hasty, and I don't mind eating all my words," said +Williams; "so, as the song says, 'Come, let us be happy together.' Will +you come into the King's Head, and take a glass of wine on the strength +of it?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said George; "but as it is no wish of mine to live at +loggerheads with any one, here is my hand upon it."</p> + +<p>And then they shook hands, and so the matter ended. But it ended only so +far as Williams was concerned. A day or two afterwards Mr. Brunton was +passing the office, and he called in to say "How d'ye do?" to Mr. +Compton. In the course of conversation he asked how George was getting +on, and whether he continued to give satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. Compton, "I have no fault to find with him; on the +contrary, he is the best junior clerk I ever had, and I trust him with +matters I never placed in the hands of a junior clerk before. But there +was an unfortunate occurrence the other day, which I think it right to +mention to you confidentially." And then Mr. Brunton heard the whole +history of the theatre adventure, and its consequences in the office on +the following morning. He was grieved, deeply grieved. At first he could +not credit the account; but when he heard that George had himself +confessed to the truth of the circumstances before Mr. Compton, and +there was no longer room to doubt, a tear stood in his eye as he thought +of his nephew—that noble, manly boy, whom he loved with all the +affection of a father—stooping to temptation, and acting the part of a +deceiver; for Mr. Brunton had spent an evening with Mrs. Weston and +George, and had heard nothing of his having been to a theatre, nor did +he believe Mrs. Weston was aware of it.</p> + +<p>"What I have told you is strictly confidential," said Mr. Compton; "but +as you are, as it were, the father of George Weston, I thought it only +right that you should know this, in order that you may warn him, if he +has got into the hands of bad companions."</p> + +<p>George was absent from the office during the interview, and did not know +until some days afterwards of his uncle's visit.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton went from Falcon-court a sadder man. He was perplexed and +harassed; he could not conscientiously tell Mrs. Weston, as he had +received the information in confidence; he could not speak directly to +George upon the subject, because he would at once have known that Mr. +Compton must have given the statement to his uncle. He was obliged, +therefore, to remain passive in the matter for a day or two, and +resolved to spend an evening that week at Islington.</p> + +<p>In the meantime the affair became known to Mrs. Weston, and in rather a +curious manner. George had worn his best coat on the evening he went to +the theatre; and one day as Mrs. Weston, according to custom, was +brushing it, before putting it away in his drawers, she turned out the +pockets, and, amongst other things, drew forth a well-used play-bill.</p> + +<p>"George has never been to the theatre, surely?" she asked herself. +"Impossible! he would have told me had he done so, for he is far too +high-principled to deceive me."</p> + +<p>But the sight of that play-bill worried Mrs. Weston. She thought over it +all day, and longed for the evening to come, when she might ask George +about it.</p> + +<p>That evening Mr. Brunton had determined to spend at Islington; and as he +was passing Falcon-court, he called for George on his way, and they +walked home together.</p> + +<p>The play-bill happened to be on the table when they entered, and it +caught the eye of both George and Mr. Brunton at once.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get that from?" asked George, colouring, not with the +honest flush of self-respect, but with the burning sense of deceit +detected.</p> + +<p>"I found it in your pocket, George; and as I have never found one there +before, I thought I would leave it out, to ask you how you came by it."</p> + +<p>"I came by it the other night, when I went to the theatre," said George; +for he could not tell a direct falsehood. "I did not tell you of it at +the time, but led you to suppose that I had been at the institution."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston was indeed sorry to hear George's account of what had +passed; but Mr. Brunton felt all his old confidence in George restored +by the open, genuine statement he made.</p> + +<p>"George," said Mr. Brunton, "I know you are old enough to manage your +affairs for yourself, without an uncle's interference, but do take from +me one word of caution. I fear you may be led unwittingly into error by +your associates. Do be on your guard—'if sinners entice thee, consent +thou not.' If you feel it right, and can conscientiously go with them +and adopt their habits, I have no right, nor should I wish to advise +you; but if you feel that you are wrong in what you do, listen to the +voice of your better self, and pause to consider. Do not turn a deaf +ear to its entreaties, but be admonished by its counsel, and rather +sacrifice friends and pleasure than that best of all enjoyments—the +satisfaction of acting a part of duty to God and yourself."</p> + +<p>George did not argue the point with his uncle; he felt himself in the +wrong, but could not see his way clear to get right again.</p> + +<p>"I have made so many resolves in my short life," he said, "and have +broken them so often, that I will not pledge myself to making fresh ones +My error, in this instance, has not been the fault of my companionships, +but entirely my own; and, as far as I can see, the chief blame lies in +having concealed the matter from my mother, which I did principally out +of kindness to her. But I will endeavour to take your counsel, uncle."</p> + +<p>Weeks passed away, and with them the vivid memories of that time. George +had at length reasoned himself into the idea that a great deal of +unnecessary fuss had been made about nothing, and instead of weaning +himself from the society of Ashton, they became more than ever thrown +into each other's company. George was a constant attendant at the +institution, where he was surrounded by a large circle of intimate +acquaintances, with whom much of his time was spent. In the office he +had risen in the estimation of the clerks. Williams and Lawson, finding +that opposition was unavailing, altered their conduct towards him, and +became as civil and obliging as they had before been insulting and +disagreeable. George began to think he had belied their characters from +not having known sufficient of them; and instead of shunning them, as he +had hitherto done, sometimes took a stroll with them in the evening +after office hours, and once or twice had dined with them at the King's +Head.</p> + +<p>Imperceptibly, George began to alter. Sooner or later, evil +communications must corrupt good manners; and from continually beholding +the lives of his companions, without possessing that one thing needful +to have kept him free from the entanglement of their devices, he became +changed into the same image, by the dangerous power of their influence +and example.</p> + +<p>A month or two after the theatre adventure, Mrs. Weston received an +invitation to spend a week or two in the country with some relatives, +whom she had not seen for several years. Mr. Brunton persuaded her to +accept it, as the change would be beneficial; and George, knowing how +seldom his mother had an opportunity for recreation, added all his +powers of argument to induce her to go. The only obstacle presenting +itself was the management of the house during her absence. Mr. Brunton +invited George to stay with him while Mrs. Weston would be away; and she +did not like to leave her servant alone in the house with the boarders. +It was at last arranged that George should decline Mr. Brunton's +invitation, and have the oversight of the house during his mother's +absence.</p> + +<p>The first night after her departure, George brought Hardy home with him +to spend the evening, and a pleasant, quiet time they had together.</p> + +<p>"It will be rather dull for you, George," said Hardy, "if Mrs. Weston is +going to remain away for a few weeks. What shall you do on Sunday? You +had better come and spend the day with us."</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot do that, because I promised I would be here, to let the +servant have an opportunity of going to church. But I mean to ask Ashton +to come and spend the day here, and you will come too; and there's +Dixon, he is a nice fellow, I'll ask him to come as well."</p> + +<p>"What is to be the programme for the day?" said Hardy. "Of course it +will be a quiet one."</p> + +<p>"We will all go to church or chapel in the morning, spend the afternoon +together at home, and take a stroll in the evening after the service. +Are you agreed?"</p> + +<p>"I think we shall have a very nice day of it. Let the other chaps know +of it early, and we will meet here in good time in the morning."</p> + +<p>Sunday came, and George's friends arrived as he expected. They were +early, and had time for a chat before starting out.</p> + +<p>"Where shall we go this morning?" asked George. "There is a very good +minister close by at the church, and another equally good at the chapel. +My principles are unsectarian, and I do not mind where it is we go."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," said Dixon, "we might do ourselves more good by +taking a stroll a few miles out of town, and talking out a sermon for +ourselves?"</p> + +<p>"I am inclined to the belief that nature is the best preacher," Ashton +remarked. "We hear good sermons from the pulpit, it is true; but words +are poor things to teach us of the Creator, in comparison with +creation."</p> + +<p>"I do not agree with you in your religious sentiments, Ashton, as you +know," said George. "Creation tells us nothing about our Saviour, and, +as I read the Scriptures, no man can know God, the Father and Great +Creator, but through Him."</p> + +<p>"And yet, if I remember rightly, the Saviour said that He made the +world, and without Him was not anything made that was made—so that He +was the Creator; and when we look from nature up to nature's God we see +Him, and connecting His history with the world around us, we have in +creation, as I said before, the best sermon; aye, and what the parsons +call a 'gospel' sermon, too."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," said Dixon; "preaching is all very well in its way, +and I like a good sermon; but the words of man can never excel the works +of God."</p> + +<p>"A proper sermon," replied George, "is not uttered in the words of man; +they are God's words applied and expounded. Nature may speak to the +senses, but the Scriptures alone speak to the heart; and that is the +object of preaching. But you are my visitors, and you shall decide the +point."</p> + +<p>"Then I say a stroll," said Ashton.</p> + +<p>"And so do I," chimed in Dixon.</p> + +<p>"I am for going to a place of worship," said Hardy.</p> + +<p>"And so am I," Ashton replied; "is not all God's universe a place of +worship?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so," answered Hardy; "but I mean the appointed and proper +place, where those who try to keep holy the Sabbath day are accustomed +to meet—a church or chapel."</p> + +<p>"I side with Hardy," said George. "But I am willing to meet you halfway. +If I go with you this morning, you must all promise to go with me in the +evening. But bear in mind I am making a concession, and I go for a +stroll under protest, because it is contrary to my custom."</p> + +<p>"All right, old chap," said Ashton. "I never knew anybody's conscience +fit them so uneasily as yours does. But it always did; at school, you +were a martyr to it, and I believe the blame lies at the door of dear +old Dr. Seaward, who persisted in training us up in the way we should +go, just as if we were all designed to be parsons."</p> + +<p>"Poor old Dr. Seaward!" said George. "If he only knew two of his old +scholars were going out for a stroll on Sunday morning to hear nature +preach, I believe his body would hardly contain his troubled spirit."</p> + +<p>"And he would appear before us to stop us on our way—"</p> + +<p>"Like the spirit before Balaam and his ass, seems the most appropriate +simile," said Dixon, "for, if I recollect rightly, Balaam was going +where he should not have gone, and his conscience gave him as much +trouble as Weston's does."</p> + +<p>George did not think and say, as Balaam did, "I have sinned;" but he +felt the sting of ridicule, and determined he would allow no +conscientious scruple to bring it upon him again during that day.</p> + +<p>"After all," he argued with himself, "what is the use of my being +conscientious, for I am so wretchedly inconsistent? I had better go all +one way, or all the other, instead of wavering between the two, and +perpetually showing my weakness."</p> + +<p>It would have puzzled any one to have told what sermon nature preached +to that merry party, as they wandered through green fields and quiet +lanes, talking upon a hundred different subjects, and making the calm +Sabbath morn ring with the strains of their laughter.</p> + +<p>"Your idea of creation's voice is better in theory than in practice," +George said, when they returned home. "Can any of you tell me what the +text was which nature took to preach from, for I have no distinct +remembrance of it?"</p> + +<p>"The text seemed to me to be this," said Dixon, "that 'to everything +there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens—a time +to weep and a time to laugh—a time to keep silence and a time to +speak;' and the application was, that we had chosen the right time for +enjoying much speaking and much laughing."</p> + +<p>The afternoon was not spent as George had been accustomed to spend it. +Light, frivolous conversation, and still more dangerous debate upon +religious subjects, without religious feeling, occupied the time, and +George felt glad when the evening came, and they started off together to +hear a popular preacher, whose merits they had been discussing during +the afternoon.</p> + +<p>On their way thither they passed a large building, into which several +people were entering, and as the outside of the place was ornamented +with handbills, they paused to read them. They ran thus:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"HALL OF SCIENCE.—A Lecture will be delivered in this Hall on Sunday +evening, at half past six, by Professor Martin, on 'The Uses of Reason.' +Young men are cordially invited to attend.</p> + +<p>"What is truth? Search and see."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Do you know anything of this Professor Martin?" asked Dixon. "Is he +worth hearing?"</p> + +<p>"A friend of mine told me he had heard him, a little while ago, and was +never better pleased with any lecture," Ashton answered. "Shall we put +up here for the evening?"</p> + +<p>"Is he a preacher, or a mere lecturer?" asked George. The question +attracted the attention of a person entering the Hall; and, turning to +George, he answered:—</p> + +<p>"Professor Martin is one of those best of all preachers. He can interest +without sending you to sleep, and his discourses are full of sound +wisdom. He is a lover of truth, and advocates the only way to arrive at +it, which is by unfettered thought. In his lectures he puts his theory +into practice by freely expressing his unfettered thoughts. I have seats +in the front of the lecture-room; if you will favour me by accepting +them, they are at your service."</p> + +<p>The plausible and polite manner of the stranger was effectual with +George.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we can do better than go in and hear what the lecturer +has to say," he said to the others. And, assent being given, they +followed the stranger, and were conducted to the proffered seats.</p> + +<p>The audience consisted principally of men, the majority of whom were +young and of an inferior class, such as shopmen and mechanics. There was +a large platform, with chairs upon it, but no pulpit or reading-desk. +When the lecturer, accompanied by a chairman and some friends, entered, +George and his companions were surprised to hear a clapping of hands and +stamping of feet, similar to the plan adopted at public amusements.</p> + +<p>"This does not seem much like a Sunday evening service," said George. +"We have time to leave, if you like; or shall we stay and see it out?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! let us stay," replied the others.</p> + +<p>No hymn was sung, no prayer was offered at the commencement, but the +lecturer, with a pocket Bible in his hands, quoted a few passages of +Scripture, as follows:—</p> + +<p>"Come now, and let us reason together,"—Isa. i. 18; "I applied mine +heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, and to know the +reason of things,"—Eccles. vii. 25; "And Paul, as his manner was, went +in unto them, and three Sabbath days reasoned with them out of the +Scriptures,"—Acts xvii. 2; "Be ready alway to give an answer to every +man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,"—1 Peter iii. +15.</p> + +<p>The object of the lecturer was to show that no intelligent being could +receive truth unless that truth commended itself to reason, because the +two were never in opposition one with the other. Conscience, he said, +was the soul's safeguard, and reason the safeguard of the heart and +intellect. It was irrational to condemn any course of conduct which +conscience approved, and it was equally irrational to believe anything +that could not be understood. The Word of God might be useful in its +way, but only as studied with unfettered thought. If that Word exalted +reason and then taught inconsistencies and absurdities, reason must +discriminate between the right and the wrong. "For example," he +continued, "if that book tells me that there are three Gods, and yet +those three are one, I reason by analogy and say, here are three +fingers; each one has its particular office; but I cannot make these +three fingers one finger, neither can I make three Gods one God."</p> + +<p>So the lecturer continued, but he did not put his case in so many plain +words as these; every argument he clothed with doubtful words, so as to +make falsehood look like truth, and blasphemy like worship. He was an +educated and intelligent man, gifted with that dangerous power of +preaching the doctrine of devils in the guise of an angel of light, and +handling deadly sophistry with as firm a grasp as if it were the sword +of the Spirit.</p> + +<p>At the conclusion of the lecture he announced his intention to speak +from that platform again on the following Sunday, and invited all who +were inquiring the way of truth to be present, and judge what he said, +"whether it be right, or whether it be wrong."</p> + +<p>As George and his friends were leaving the hall, the stranger, who had +accosted them before, came up, and bowing politely said—</p> + +<p>"Will you allow me to offer you the same seats, for next Sunday evening? +If you will say yes, I will reserve them for you; otherwise you may have +difficulty in obtaining admission, for the room will, in all +probability, be more crowded than to-night, as Professor Martin was not +announced to lecture until late in the week, and the friends who +frequent the Hall had no notice of his being here."</p> + +<p>"I will certainly come," said Ashton. "I never heard a speaker I liked +better. What say you?" he asked, turning to the others.</p> + +<p>"I am anxious to hear the conclusion of the argument," said George; "so +we will accept your invitation," he added to the stranger, "and thank +you for your kindness and courtesy."</p> + +<p>It was a long conversation the friends had as they strolled along that +evening. To George every argument the lecturer had brought forward was +new; and bearing, as they did, the apparent stamp of truth, he was +utterly confounded. Although he was a good biblical scholar, as regarded +the historical and narrative parts of the Scriptures, he was but ill +informed on those more subtle points which the lecturer handled. He had +never heard the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, disputed, and had +always implicitly believed it; now, when the lecturer quoted Scripture +to prove that truth was to be analysed by reason, and reason rejected +the idea of a Trinity, he was as unable to reconcile the two as if he +had never received any religious instruction at all.</p> + +<p>"If what he advances be true," said George, "how irrational many things +in the Christian religion are! And how singular that men like him, who +'search into the reason of things' for wisdom, and hold opinions +contrary to the orthodox notions of those whom we call Christians, +should be looked upon with suspicion and distrust."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Ashton; "he met that idea by saying that it was not more +than singular, in the early stages of science, for people to be burnt as +witches and magicians, because they made discoveries which are now +developed and brought into daily use, than it is now for men to be +scouted as infidel and profane, because they teach opinions which only +require investigation to make them universally admitted."</p> + +<p>An unhappy day was that Sunday for George Weston. He had violated +principle, made concessions against the dictates of conscience (how poor +a safeguard for him!) and had learnt lessons which taught him to despise +those instructions which had hitherto been as a lamp unto his feet and a +light unto his path.</p> + +<p>"Blessed is the man that <i>walketh</i> not in the counsel of the ungodly, +nor <i>standeth</i> in the way of sinners, nor <i>sitteth</i> in the seat of the +scornful." George little thought how rapidly he was passing through +those different stages on the downward road. Had he never listened to +the council of the ungodly, he would not have walked in the way of evil, +but would have avoided even its very appearance; he would not have stood +in the way of sinners, parleying with temptations, as he had done on so +many occasions; nor would he have occupied that most dangerous of all +positions, the fatal ease of sitting in the seat of the scornful.</p> + + + + +<a name="7"></a> +<h2>Chapter VII.</h2> + +<h3>Getting On In The World.</h3> + +<p>"Mr. Compton wishes to speak with you, Weston," said Mr. Sanders, the +manager, to George one morning, during the visit of Mrs. Weston in the +country.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Weston," said Mr. Compton; "I want to have a few minutes' +conversation with you: sit down. You have been in my office now more +than a twelvemonth, and I promised that you should have an increased +salary at the expiration of that time. Your services have been very +valuable to me during the past year, and I am in every way satisfied +with you. As a tangible proof of this, I beg your acceptance of this +little present," (handing him a ten-pound note,) "and during this year +on which you have entered, I shall have much pleasure in giving you a +salary of two guineas a week."</p> + +<p>"I am exceedingly obliged to you sir," George stammered out, for he was +flabbergasted at the kindness of his employer; "I hope I may always +continue to do my duty in your office, and deserve your approbation."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, too;" said Mr. Compton, "both for your sake and for my own. +If you continue as you have begun, there is a fair field before you, and +I will advance you as opportunity occurs. Now, apart from business, I +want one word with you. I kept you purposely last year upon a low +salary, because I have found that sometimes it is beneficial to young +men to have only a small income. With your increased salary, you will +have increased means for entering that style of life which is, +unfortunately, too universal with young men—I mean the gaieties and +dissipations of a London life are now more open to you than they were +before. But what is termed a 'fast' young man never makes a good clerk, +and I do hope you will not allow yourself to fail into habits which will +be obstacles to your future promotion."</p> + +<p>"I will endeavour, sir, always to maintain my position in your office," +said George; "and I feel very grateful to you for the interest you take +in my personal welfare."</p> + +<p>George was in high spirits with his good fortune. He had not expected +more than a guinea, or at the utmost thirty shillings a week increase +for his second year, and had never dreamt of receiving so handsome a +present as £10. By that night's post he sent off a long letter to his +mother, giving her an account of the interview, and of his future +prospects.</p> + +<p>But George had different ideas about his future now, to those he +cherished a twelvemonth back. Then he thought only of himself and his +mother; how happy they would be together, and how much he would +endeavour to contribute to her enjoyment. Now he congratulated himself +that he would be upon a footing with his friends, that he could do as +they did, and that he had the means to follow up those recreations which +were becoming habitual to him. For since Mrs. Weston had been away, +George had gone step by step further on unhallowed ground. Even Ashton +said, "Weston, you are coming it pretty strong, old fellow!" and Hardy +had declared that he could not keep pace with him. Night after night, as +he had no one at home to claim his presence there, he had been to +theatres and other places of amusement. Sunday after Sunday he had +attended the lectures at the Hall of Science, and abandoning himself to +the tide which was hurrying him along, he floated down the dangerous +stream.</p> + +<p>The principles of infidelity which had been inculcated, appealed to him +with a voice so loud as to drown the appeals from a higher source. The +one approved his conduct, the other condemned it—the one pointed to the +world as a scene of enjoyment, the other as at enmity with God. George +felt that if he would hold one he must resign the other. He had not that +moral courage, or rather he had not the deep-rooted conviction of sin, +or the earnest love and fear of God, to enable him to burst through the +entanglements of the world and the world's god, and choosing whom he +would serve: he loved darkness rather than light.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Weston returned, after a month's absence, she could not but +observe an alteration in George. Although he never told her of his +attendance at the lectures on Sunday, or the arguments he had had with +friends who held infidel opinions, she soon perceived that George's +feelings were undergoing a rapid and dangerous change. Those subjects on +which he was once in the habit of conversing with her, he now carefully +shunned. He was affectionate and kind to his mother still, and loved her +with all his old intense love, but that ingenuous confidence which he +had always reposed in her was gone. Things that were dear to him now he +could not discuss with her; instead of telling her how he spent his +time, and what were his amusements, he avoided any mention of them. The +deception which he first practised on that night when he yielded to +Ashton's persuasion, was now a system. He reasoned the matter over with +himself: there could be no good in telling her; their opinions were +different; he would take his course, independently of hers.</p> + +<p>Uncle Brunton noticed the change; for to those who saw him seldom the +change was sudden. But to George, every day there seemed an epoch, and +he was unconscious of the rapidity with which old associations and ideas +cherished from childhood were thrown down and trampled upon by the new +feelings which had taken possession of him.</p> + +<p>"George," said Mr. Brunton to him one day, "I am growing uneasy about +you. I feel that I am not the same to you, nor you to me, we used to be, +only a few months back. I cannot tell the reason—cannot tell when the +difference commenced or how—but for some months past—ever since your +mother's visit to the country—there has been a want of that old +confidential, affectionate intercourse between us there used to be."</p> + +<p>"I was younger then," said George, "and the freshness of youthful +feeling and attachment may die away as we advance in years; but I am not +aware that I have ever given you occasion to say I do not love you +sincerely still, uncle. Your kindness to me never can, and never will be +forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Well, George, I cannot explain what I mean. I have a kind of feeling +about you that something is wrong which I cannot put into words. I fancy +that if I offer you a word of counsel, you do not receive it as you once +did; if I talk seriously with you, it does not make the same impression, +or touch the spring of the same feelings. You do not talk to me with the +old frankness and candour which made my heart leap, when I thanked God I +had got some one in the world to love, and who loved me. But perhaps I +wrong you, and expect too much from you."</p> + +<p>"No, not that, uncle. Frankness, candour, and love are due to you, and +while I have them they shall always be yours; and to prove it, I will +tell what I have never told any one before, what I have hardly spoken to +my own heart. I think of the George Weston you brought away from Dr. +Seaward's, who stood with you beside a father's deathbed, and who, +eighteen months ago, went into Mr. Compton's office; then I think of +George Weston of to-day, and I feel amazed at the change a few years has +made. I have asked myself a hundred times, am I really the same? Oh, +uncle! you do not know what I would give to be that boy again—to live +once more in that old world of sunshine."</p> + +<p>Tears started to George's eyes as he spoke, and Mr. Brunton could only +squeeze his hand, and say, "God bless you, my boy! God bless you!"</p> + +<p>A few days later Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston were one whole evening +together talking about George. Both hearts were heavy, but Mr. Brunton's +was the lighter of the two.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I think will be the very best thing for you and for +George," he said, "It is now the early spring, and the country is +beginning to look fresh and green. Leave this house and take one in the +country. I think George can easily be made to accede to this +proposition—he was always fond of country life and recreations. He can +have a season ticket on the railway, and come down every night. This +will wean him from his associates, and induce him to keep earlier hours, +and give us, too, a better opportunity to lure him back to his old +habits of life."</p> + +<p>The arrangements were made. Mrs. Weston, with that loving self-denial +which only a mother can exercise, gave up the house, and her circle of +friends, and took up her residence in the country, about twenty miles +from London. George was pleased with the change, and acquiesced in all +the plans which were made.</p> + +<p>About this time, an event happened of considerable importance in the +family history. An old relative of Mrs. Weston's, from whom she had +monetary expectations, died; and upon examination of the will, it was +found that a legacy had been left her of about three thousand pounds, +which was safely invested, and would bring to her an income of nearly a +hundred and fifty pounds a year.</p> + +<p>This was a cause of fear and rejoicing to Mrs. Weston—fear, lest it +should be a snare to George, as he would now have the whole of his +salary at his own disposal, there being no longer any necessity for her +to share it; rejoicing, that she should be able to give him that start +in life which had always been the desire and ambition of Mr. Weston.</p> + +<p>A few months' trial of Mr. Brunton's plan for weaning George from the +allurements of society in London, by taking a house in the country, +proved it to be a failure. For the first month, George went down almost +immediately after leaving business, but it was only for the first month. +Gradually it became later and later, until the last train was generally +the one by which he travelled. Then it sometimes occurred that he lost +the last train, and was obliged to stay at an hotel in town for the +night. At length, this occurred so frequently, that sometimes for three +nights out of the week he never went home at all. On one of these +occasions, a party of gentlemen in the commercial room of the hotel +where he was staying proposed a game of cards, and asked George to make +one at a rubber of whist. George had often played with his own friends, +but never before with total strangers. However, without any hesitation, +he accepted the invitation, and yielded to the proposition that they +should play sixpenny points. The game proceeded, rubber after rubber was +lost and won, and when George rose from the card-table at a late hour he +was loser to the amount of thirty shillings.</p> + +<p>"There is no playing against good cards," said George; "and the run of +luck has been in your favour to-night; but I will challenge you to +another game to-morrow evening, if you will be here?"</p> + +<p>The next night George played again, and won back a pound of the money +he had lost on the preceding evening. This was encouraging. "One more +trial," said George to himself, "and nobody will catch me card-playing +for money again with strangers." But that one more trial was the worst +of all. George lost three pounds! He could ill afford it; as it was he +was living at the very extent of his income, and three pounds was a +large sum. He was obliged to give an I O U for the amount, and in the +meantime borrow the sum from one of his friends.</p> + +<p>"Hardy, have you got three pounds to lend me?" he asked, next morning; +"you shall have it again to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I have not got that sum with me," said Hardy, "but I can get it for +you. Is it pressing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I had a hand at cards last night, and lost."</p> + +<p>"What! with Ashton?"</p> + +<p>"No; with some strangers at the hotel where I have hung out for the last +night or two."</p> + +<p>"You shall have that sum early this evening, George; and twice that +amount, if you will make me one promise. I ask it as an old friend, who +has a right to beg a favour. Give up card-playing, don't try to win back +what you have lost; no good can possibly come of it"</p> + +<p>"Is Saul among the prophets?" asked George, with something like a +sneer.</p> + +<p>"No, George Weston: but a looker-on at chess sees more of the game than +the player; and I have been looking at your last few moves in the game +of life, without taking part with you, and I see you will be checkmated +soon, if you do not alter your tactics. I can't blame you, nor do I wish +to, if I could; but when I first heard you had taken to card playing, I +did feel myself among the prophets then, and prophesied no good would +come of it."</p> + +<p>"When you first heard of my card playing?" asked George. "When did you +hear of it?"</p> + +<p>"A few days since. My father came up from the country by a late train +one night, and stayed at the hotel you patronize. There he saw you, and +told me about it."</p> + +<p>"Confound it! a fellow can't do a thing, even in this great city, +without somebody ferretting it out. But I don't mean to play again. I +have made a fool of myself too many times already; and it serves me +right that I have lost money."</p> + +<p>That evening, while George was making his way to the hotel, a lady was +journeying towards the railway station. An hour later, she was at the +house of Mrs. Weston, and was shown into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"I must apologise," said Mrs. Hardy, for it was she, "in calling upon +you at this hour: but I am very anxious to have some conversation with +you."</p> + +<p>"It is strange," said Mrs. Weston, "that as our sons have been intimate +so long, we should have continued strangers; but I am very delighted to +see you, Mrs. Hardy, for I have heard much of you."</p> + +<p>"It is with regard to the intercourse between your son and mine that I +have called. I do not wish to alarm you; but I feel it right that you +should be in possession of information I have of your son."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hardy then narrated the circumstances connected with her husband's +visit to the hotel on the evening when he found George there card +playing.</p> + +<p>"This evening," she continued, "my son returned home earlier than usual, +and went to his drawer, where I saw him take out some money—two or +three sovereigns. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and after +some difficulty I ascertained he intended lending it to your son. It +occurred to me at once that George Weston was in trouble with those men; +and I thought it only right that you should know."</p> + +<p>It was kind of Mrs. Hardy to shew this interest, and Mrs. Weston +esteemed her for it. But had they stood beside the table at which George +was seated while they were talking, or could they have seen the flush of +excitement as he threw down the cards, exclaiming, "By Jove! I've lost +again!" and have watched the flashing eye and heaving breast, they would +have felt, even more keenly than they did, how futile were words or +sympathies to check the evil.</p> + + + + +<a name="8"></a> +<h2>Chapter VIII.</h2> + +<h3>A Test Of Friendship.</h3> + +<p>We pass over two years of George Weston's life—years full of strange +experiences—and look into the office in Falcon-court one morning in the +summer of 18—.</p> + +<p>Mr. Compton is away on the Continent for a holiday tour, Mr. Sanders is +still the manager, and nearly all the same old faces are in the office. +George, who is now verging on the legal age of manhood, has risen to a +good position in the establishment, and is regarded as second only to +Mr. Sanders. He is wonderfully altered from when we saw him first in +that office. He is still handsome; but the old sparkling lustre of his +eye has gone, and no trace of boyishness is left.</p> + +<p>Hardy is still there. Two years have not made so much difference in him +as George. He looks older than he really is; but there is no mistaking +him for the quiet, gentlemanly Charles Hardy of former days. Lawson and +Williams are there, coarse and bloated young men, whose faces tell the +history of their lives. Hardy rarely exchanges a word with them. George +does more frequently, but not with the air of superiority he once did.</p> + +<p>A close observer would have noticed in George that morning a careworn +anxious look; would have heard an occasional sigh, and have seen him at +one time turning pale, and again flushing with a crimson red.</p> + +<p>"You are not well," said Hardy. "You have not done a stroke of work all +this morning; quite an unusual thing for you, George."</p> + +<p>"I am not well," he replied; "but it is nothing of importance. I shall +get Mr. Sanders to let me off for an hour's stroll when he comes in from +the Bank."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sanders came in from the Bank, but he was later than usual. His +round generally occupied an hour; this morning he had been gone between +two and three. George watched him anxiously as he took off his hat, +rubbed his nose violently with his pocket handkerchief, and stood gazing +into the fire, ejaculating every now and then, as was his custom if +anything extraordinary or disagreeable had happened, "Ah! umph!"</p> + +<p>"The old boy has found out that the wind has veered to the northeast, +or has stepped upon some orange peel," whispered Lawson to Williams, who +saw that something had gone wrong with the manager.</p> + +<p>"Your proposed stroll will be knocked on the head," said Hardy to +George. "Mr. Sanders is evidently in an ill humour."</p> + +<p>"I shall not trouble him about it," said George; "shirking work always +worries him, and he seems to be worried enough as it is."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Sanders had gazed in the fire for half an hour, and had walked +once or twice up and down the office, as his manner was on such +occasions, he turned to George and said, "I want to speak with you in +the next room."</p> + +<p>"I wish you a benefit, Weston," said Williams as he passed. "Recommend +him a day or two in the country, for the good of his health and our +happiness."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston," said the manager, when George had shut the door and seated +himself, "I am in great difficulties. This event has happened at a most +unfortunate time, Mr. Compton is away, and I don't know how to act for +the best. Will you give me your assistance in the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Cannot you make the accounts right, sir?" asked George. "I thought you +had satisfactorily arranged them last night."</p> + +<p>"No, Weston; I have been through them over and over again, but I cannot +get any nearer to a balance. I have been round to the Bank this morning +again, and have seen Mr. Smith about it, but he cannot assist me. +However, inquiries will be made this afternoon, and all our accounts +carefully checked and examined; in the meantime, I wish you would have +out the books and go through them for me. Hardy can assist you, if you +like."</p> + +<p>"I will do all I can for you, to make this matter right," said George; +"but I can do it better alone. If you will give Hardy the job I was +about, I will check the books here by myself."</p> + +<p>All that afternoon George sat alone in Mr. Compton's room surrounded +with books and papers. But he did not examine them. Resting his head +upon his hands, he looked upon them and sighed. Now the perspiration +stood in big drops upon his forehead and his hands trembled. Then he +would walk up and down the room, halting to take deep draughts of water +from a bottle on the table.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sanders occasionally looked in to ask how he was going on, and if he +had discovered the error.</p> + +<p>"No," said George; "the accounts seem right; but I cannot make them +agree with the cash-book. There is still a hundred pounds short; but I +will go through them again if you like."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had better. I expect Mr. Smith here by six o'clock; will +you remain with me and see him? He may assist us."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said George; "I feel as anxious as you do about the matter, +for all the bills and cheques have passed through my hands as well as +yours; and I shall not rest easy until the missing amount is +discovered."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith arrived just as the clerks were leaving the office, and Mr. +Sanders and George were alone with him.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Smith, "we have gone carefully over every item to-day, +and at last the defalcation is seen. This cheque," he continued, +producing the document, "is forged. The signature is unquestionably Mr. +Compton's, but the rest of the writing is counterfeit."</p> + +<p>"A forged cheque!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, aghast; "impossible!"</p> + +<p>"There must be some mistake here," said George, "the accounts in our +books, if I recollect rightly, correspond with the cheques; but—"</p> + +<p>"It is a clumsily arranged affair, although the forgery is a +masterpiece of penmanship," said Mr. Smith; "and if it passes first +through your office, and is entered in your books with the false amount, +it is clear that some one in your employ has committed the offence. I +leave the matter now with you for the present," he added, to Mr. +Sanders; "of course you will put the case at once into the proper medium +and find out the offender."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Smith had gone, George sat down again in the seat he had +occupied during that long afternoon, pale and exhausted.</p> + +<p>"This is a lamentable business," said Mr. Sanders, pacing the room, "a +lamentable business, indeed! I confess I am completely baffled. Mr. +Weston, I look to you for assistance. Can you form any idea how this +matter has come about? Have you suspicion of any of the clerks?"</p> + +<p>"I am equally at a loss with you how to manage in this case. I have no +reason to doubt the integrity of any one in this office. Except one," +said George, as if a sudden idea had come to his mind. "Yes, I have a +suspicion of one; but I cannot tell even you who it is, until I have +made inquiries sufficient to warrant the suspicion. Can you let the +affair rest over to-night, and in the meantime I will do what I can, and +confer with you in the morning."</p> + +<p>"That seems the only plan," answered Mr. Sanders. "If I can render any +assistance in making these inquiries, I will."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, you will have trouble enough in the matter as it is; and +I can do what I have to do better alone."</p> + +<p>Half an hour after this conversation, a cab was travelling at the utmost +speed along the Clapham road. It stopped at the house of Harry Ashton, +and George alighted.</p> + +<p>"Ashton," said he, "I want to speak to you for two minutes. I have got +into trouble; don't ask me how, or in what way. Unless I can borrow a +hundred pounds to-night, I am ruined. Can you get it for me?"</p> + +<p>"My dear George, sit down and calm yourself, and we will talk the matter +over," said Ashton. "It strikes me you are up to some joke, or you would +never suppose that I, an assistant surveyor with a present limited +income, could fork out a hundred pounds down as a hammer.</p> + +<p>"I am not joking. I dare not explain more. I require your confidence for +what I have already said; but I know you have money, and moneyed +friends. Can you get it for me anyhow, from anywhere?"</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot, and that's plump," answered Ashton; "it is the end of the +quarter, and I have not more than ten pounds in my pocket You are +welcome to that, if it is any good; but I cannot go into the country to +my father's to-night, that is very certain; and if I could, he would not +advance so much without knowing exactly what it was for; nor should I +care to lend that sum, even to you, George, unless I knew what you were +going to do with it, and when I should see it back. If it is so +pressing, you might have my ten, ten more from Dixon, and I could get a +pound or two from other sources."</p> + +<p>"No, that would take too long, and I have but an hour or two to make the +arrangements." As he spoke, George fell into a chair, and buried his +face in his hands.</p> + +<p>"What, George, my old pippin, what is the matter?" said Ashton, going to +him. "You have lost at cards again, I suppose: but take heart, man, +never get out of pluck for such a thing as that. But you are ill, I know +you are, you are as white as a sheet. Here, take tins glass of brandy."</p> + +<p>"I only feel faint." said George, rising. "I shall be all right when I +get out into the open air. Good-bye, Ashton, my old school-chum, we +shall never meet again after to-night; but I shan't forget our happy +days together—I mean the days at Dr. Seaward's—they were the happy +ones, after all."</p> + +<p>"George, you are ill, and your brain is touched. Not meet again after +to-night? Nonsense, we don't part so easily, if that is the case;" and +Ashton locked the door, and put the key in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Unfasten that door!" almost shouted George; "you do not know my +strength at this moment, and I might do you some harm; but I should not +like to part with my oldest friend like that. Open the door!"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," answered Ashton. "Tell me more particulars, and I +will try what I can do in getting the money."</p> + +<p>"No; you have told me you cannot. I have one more chance elsewhere; let +me try that. Ashton, do not be a fool; open that door, and let me go."</p> + +<p>"Then I will go with you," answered Ashton; and he unlocked the door. +But while he turned to get his hat, George rushed from the room, opened +the hall-door, and, closing it again upon Ashton, jumped into the cab +awaiting him, and giving the word, "Islington, quick!" drove off, +leaving his friend in the road, running after the vehicle, and calling +upon the driver to stop.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind him," George called to the man; "an extra five shillings for +driving quickly."</p> + +<p>Ashton was at his wit's end. He ran on, till he could run no longer. +Just then, an empty cab passing, he hailed the driver.</p> + +<p>"Drive after that cab in front," said Ashton, as he got in; "follow it +wherever it goes. Sharp's the word, man!"</p> + +<p>It was a long time before the traffic in the roads allowed Ashton's cab +to overtake the one ahead; but both came up nearly abreast in the +Waterloo road, and then the one he was pursuing turned abruptly towards +the railway station.</p> + +<p>"Ah! George, my old fellow," said Ashton to himself, "you little think I +have been so closely on your scent; but I knew I had not seen the last +of you."</p> + +<p>Both cabs drew up at the station steps together. Ashton jumped out, and +ran to meet George; but blank was his astonishment to see an oldish lady +and her attendant alight from the vehicle, which he had imagined +contained his friend!</p> + +<p>We will leave Ashton at the Waterloo station in a mortified and +disconsolate state, quarrelling with the driver for having pursued the +wrong cab, and follow George Weston to Islington.</p> + +<p>"Hardy," he said, as soon as he found himself alone with his friend, +"are you willing to help me, to save me, perhaps, from ruin? I want to +raise a hundred pounds to-night. I must have it. Do you think you can get +it for me?"</p> + +<p>"Me get a hundred pounds? Why, George, my friend, you know the thing is +a clear impossibility. I could not get it, if it were to save my own +life. But why is it so urgent?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You will know in a day or two. I have now one resource left, and only +one. Will you go to-night to my uncle, Mr. Brunton. Tell him that I want +to save a friend from ruin, and want to borrow a hundred and fifty +pounds, which shall be faithfully repaid. Do not give him to understand +I want it for myself, but that it is for a friend dear to him and to me. +Use every argument you can, and above everything persuade him not to +make any inquiries about it at present. Say I shall have to take part of +it into the country to-morrow morning, and I will see him or write to him +in the evening. Say anything you like, so that you can get the money +for me, and prevent him coming to the office to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"George, I am afraid you have got into some bad business again," said +Hardy. "You know I am willing to help you; but I cannot do so, if it is +to encourage you in getting yourself into still greater trouble."</p> + +<p>"This is the last time, Hardy, I shall ever ask a favour of you. Do +assist me; you cannot guess the consequences if you do not."</p> + +<p>"Then tell me, George, what it is that is upsetting you. I never saw you +look so wild and excited before. You can confide in me, old fellow; we +have always kept each other's counsel."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow you shall know all. Now, do start off at once, and see what +you can do. If you cannot bring all the money, bring what you can. Put +the case urgently to my uncle; he cannot refuse me. I will be here again +in about three hours' time; it will not take you longer than that."</p> + +<p>Hardy took a cab, and drove off at once. George remained in the street; +he paced up and down, and took no rest—he was far too excited and +nervous for that. He had got a dangerous game to play, and his plans +were vague and shadowy. He had promised Mr. Sanders he would make +inquiries about the person he suspected had forged the cheque, and let +him know in the morning. His plan was to try and raise the money, pay it +to Mr. Sanders on account of the transgressor, and induce him to take no +further steps until Mr. Compton returned home. On no other ground would +he refund the money on behalf of the forger; and unless Mr. Sanders +would agree to these terms, George was determined the matter might take +its own way, and be placed in the hands of the magistrates or police.</p> + +<p>The hours seemed like days to George while Hardy was on his mission. At +length he returned.</p> + +<p>"What success?" asked George running to meet him as soon as he came in +view.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle is in a terrible state of alarm on your account," replied +Hardy, "and I fear he will be at the office some time to-morrow, although +I tried to persuade him not to do so, because it was no matter in which +you were so deeply interested as he supposed. But he cannot lend you the +money, nor can he get the amount you want until to-morrow afternoon. +However he had fifty pounds with him, and he has sent that."</p> + +<p>George took it eagerly. "My plan must fail," he said to Hardy; "but it +would only have been a question of time after all. Hardy, you will hear +strange reports of me after to-morrow; do not believe them all; remember +your old friend as you once knew him, not as report speaks of him. +Good-night, old fellow, you have been a good friend to me. I wish we +could have parted differently."</p> + +<p>"Parted!" ejaculated Hardy; "what do you mean? where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell, but I shall see you at the office to-morrow morning as +usual; I will tell you more then. Do not say a word to anybody about +what has occurred to-night. I know I may trust you; may I not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, always," answered Hardy; "but I wish you would trust me a little +more, and let me share this trouble with you. We have been old friends +now for years, George; shared ups and downs, and joys and sorrows +together; been brothers in everything which concerned each other's +welfare: and now you are distressed, why not relieve yourself by letting +me bear part of it with you? Recollect our old and earliest days of +friendship, and show that they are still dear to you, as they are to me, +by telling me what has gone wrong with you, and how I can serve or +soothe you in the emergency."</p> + +<p>George could not bear this last touch of kindness. Had Hardy reproached +him for having acted foolishly, or warned him from getting into future +trouble; had he even accused him of having sought to lead others astray, +besides wandering in downward paths himself, George could have listened +calmly and unmoved! but this out-going of his friend's heart overcame +him, and he burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Hardy," he said, wringing his friend's hand. "If a prayer +may come from my lips, so long unused to prayer, I say God bless you, +and preserve you from such a lot as mine." George could not utter +another word; he could only shake hands again, and then hurried away to +the hotel where he sometimes slept.</p> + +<p>It was past midnight when he arrived there. Calling for some spirits and +water, and writing materials, he seated himself dejectedly at a table +and wrote. The first letter ran as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"MY DEAREST MOTHER,</p> + +<p>"I have some painful news to tell you—so painful that I would rather you +should have received intelligence of my death, than that which this +letter contains. I know you will not judge me harshly, dear mother; I +know you will stretch out to me your forgiveness, and still pray for me +that I may receive pardon from <i>your</i> heavenly Father—would I could say +<i>mine</i>.</p> + +<p>"Step by step I have been going wrong, as you know—as I might have +known—and now I have sunk to the lowest depths, from which I shall +never rise again. Mother, I know the sorrow you will feel when you hear +what has happened. I grieve more for you than I do for myself; I would +give all the world, if I had it, to save your heart the misery which +awaits it, from the conduct of a worthless, rebellious son.</p> + +<p>"I cannot bear to see that sorrow. My heart seems nearly broken as it +is, and it would quite break if I were to see you suffering as you will +suffer.</p> + +<p>"I could not bear to see again any whom I have known under other +circumstances. I could not bear to be taunted with all the remembrances +of the past. Dear mother, I have resolved to leave you—leave +London—perhaps leave England. I <i>may</i> never see you again; it is better +for you that I never should.</p> + +<p>"My tears blind me as I write; if tears could cleanse the past, my guilt +would be soon removed. God bless you, dearest mother! I will write to +you again; and some day, after I have been into new scenes, started anew +in life, and won back again the character I have lost—then, perhaps, I +may once more see you again.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Brunton will tell you more. He will comfort you; he must be +husband, brother, and son to you now.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, my dearest mother! I have so wronged you, have been such +a continual trouble to you, instead of the comfort poor father thought I +should have been, and so unworthy of your love, that I hardly dare hope +you will forgive and forget the past, and still pray for</p> + +<p align="right">"Your erring Son—<br /> +"GEORGE WESTON."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>George then wrote two letters to Mr. Brunton. In one of them he thanked +him for all his care and kindness, passionately regretted the causes of +anxiety he had given him, and the disgrace which now attached to his +name. In the other, he begged the loan of the £50 sent to him through +Hardy, which, he said, he hoped to pay back in a few years. He also +requested that Mr. Brunton would arrange all his accounts, and pay them +either from his mother's income, or by advancing the money as a loan.</p> + +<p>When the morning dawned, it found George still writing. As the clock +struck seven, he packed up what few things he had with him, paid his +hotel bill, and drove off to Falcon-court. He was there by eight +o'clock, before any of the clerks had arrived.</p> + +<p>"Have the letters come?" he asked the housekeeper.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, they are in Mr. Compton's room," was the answer.</p> + +<p>George hastened into the room, looked through the packet, and alighting +upon a letter with a foreign post-mark addressed to Mr. Sanders in Mr. +Compton's handwriting, he broke the seal. The note was short, merely +saying that he had arrived in Paris, on his way home, and expected to be +back in a day or two; therefore any communications must be forwarded at +once, or he would have left Paris.</p> + +<p>George went direct to the Electric Telegraph Office. A form was handed +to him, on which the message he desired to send must be written, and he +filled it up thus:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"<i>From Mr. Sanders to Mr. Compton</i>.</p> + +<p>"Come back at once. A cheque has been forged in your name for <i>£100.</i> +George Weston is the forger. It is a clear and aggravated case. Shall he +be arrested? Will you prosecute? Answer at once."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>In an incredibly short space of time an answer was returned. George was +at the Telegraph Office to receive it.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"<i>From Mr. Compton to Mr. Sanders.</i></p> + +<p>"I will return to-morrow. Take no steps in the matter; let it be kept +silent, I am deeply grieved, but I will not prosecute under any +circumstances."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Weston," said Mr. Sanders, when George entered the office," +I expected you would have been here before; but I suppose you have had +some difficulty in your investigations?"</p> + +<p>"I have had difficulty," George answered. "I have been endeavouring to +borrow a hundred pounds to pay the deficiency, and then I would have +screened the forger; but my plan has failed, and it is better that it +should, because the innocent would have been sure to have suffered for +the guilty. I am now bound to tell you the name of the criminal upon his +own confession."</p> + +<p>"Who is it? who is it?" asked Mr. Sanders, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I—George Weston," he answered. "No matter how I did it, or why; I +alone am guilty."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sanders caught hold of the back of a chair for support. His hands +trembled, and his voice failed him.</p> + +<p>"It is a shock to you, sir," said George; "and it will be a shock to Mr. +Compton. Give him this letter when he comes home, it will explain the +circumstances to him. I deeply regret that I should have caused you so +much anxiety as I have during the past week, while this inquiry has been +pending. I knew the truth must come out sooner or later—but I would +rather you should know it from me; crushed and ruined as I am, I have no +hope that you will look with any other feelings than those of abhorrence +on me, but you do not know the heavy punishment I have already suffered, +or you would feel for me."</p> + +<p>"Are you aware, George Weston, that there is a yet heavier punishment, +and that, as Mr. Compton's representative, I shall feel it my painful +duty to—"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; here is Mr. Compton's opinion upon the case," said George, +handing the telegraphic message to Mr. Sanders, who listened with +astonishment as he explained the circumstances. "But should Mr. Compton, +upon a careful examination into the case, wish to prosecute," he +continued, "I will appear whenever and wherever he pleases. And now, Mr. +Sanders, I leave this office, ruined and disgraced, the result of my own +folly and sin."</p> + +<p>George spoke hoarsely, and his face was pale as Death. Mr. Sanders was +moved; and put out his hand to shake hands with him, and say good-bye, +but George held his back.</p> + +<p>"Remember, sir, you are an honest man; you cannot shake hands with me," +said George.</p> + +<p>"Weston, I am not your judge; there is One who will judge not only this +act, but all the acts that have led to it," said Mr. Sanders, solemnly. +"I have had more interest and greater hopes in you than in any young man +who ever came into this office; and I feel more sorrow now, on your +account, than I can put into words. Do not let this great and disastrous +fall sink you into lower depths of sin. If you have forfeited man's +respect and esteem, there is a God with whom there is mercy and +forgiveness. Seek Him, and may He bless you! Good-bye, George Weston," +and the manager, with tears in his eyes, wrung the cold, trembling hand +that was stretched out to his.</p> + +<p>George took up his carpet-bag, which he had brought from the hotel, and +was about to leave, but he paused a moment.</p> + +<p>"Will you send Hardy in here?" he asked Mr. Sanders. "I must have a word +with him before I go."</p> + +<p>Hardy had been expecting all the morning to have some explanation from +George, and had been uneasy at his absence. When he went into Mr. +Compton's room he was surprised to see George, with his bag in his hand, +ready to make a departure.</p> + +<p>"Hardy," said George, "I told you last night I should soon have to bid +you good-bye, and now the time has arrived. I am going away from the +office, and perhaps from England, but I cannot tell you where I am +going. I leave in disgrace; my once good name is now blighted and +withered; my old friends will look upon me with abhorrence."</p> + +<p>"No, George, I am one of your old friends; I never shall," interrupted +Hardy. "I do not know what you have done, nor do I wish to know, but I +cannot believe your heart and disposition are changed, or will ever +change so much as to make me regard you in any other light than that of +a dear and valued friend. But where are you going, George? Do tell me +that."</p> + +<p>"No, Hardy, I cannot. I am going away, God only knows where; it may be +abroad, it may not. I am going somewhere where I shall not be known, and +where I can try to work back for myself a character and a good name, +which I can never redeem in London. Some day I may let you know where I +am."</p> + +<p>"But, George, does your mother know where you are going?"</p> + +<p>"No," said George, and his voice was tremulous as he spoke. "No; I have +no mother now. I am too fallen to claim relationship with one so good +and noble and holy as my mother is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, George, give up this wild scheme! Have you thought that you are +going the most direct way to break your mother's heart, and to make her +life, as well as your own, blank, solitary, and miserable? Whatever +wrong you have done, do not add to it by breaking that commandment which +bids us honour our parents. Your mother has claims upon you which you +have no right to disregard in this way."</p> + +<p>"I have thought it all well over, Hardy. I believe it is for her good +as well as for mine that our paths should run differently, but I cannot +explain all now. I am in dread lest my uncle should call here before I +get away. Hardy, good-bye, old fellow."</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot say good-bye yet. George, give me your address; promise to +let me see you again, and I will promise to keep your secret sacredly."</p> + +<p>"I do not know where I am going; I have no fixed plan; but I do promise +to write to you, Hardy."</p> + +<p>"And now, George, make me one other promise. If you are in difficulties, +and I can assist you, or do anything for you in any way, at any time, +you will let me know—remember I shall always be Charles Hardy to you, +and you will always be George Weston to me. Do you agree?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Hardy, I agree. I cannot thank you. I cannot say what I would, or +tell you what I feel. May you be blessed and be happy, and never know +what it is to have a heavy, broken heart like mine. And now one promise +from you. Go and see my mother; try and comfort her; tell her how I +grieve to part from her."</p> + +<p>George could not continue; the nervous twitching of his face showed the +struggle within, and it was a relief when the hot tears broke through +and coursed down his cheek. Hardy was greatly affected. He loved George +with an intensity of love like that which knit together the soul of +Jonathan and David; he had been to him more than a brother ever since +they had been acquainted; in hours of business and recreation, in joys +and sorrows, in plans and aims, they had been one; and now the tie was +to be severed, and severed under such sad circumstances.</p> + +<p>There is a solemnity about sorrow which speech desecrates. Not another +word was spoken by either—both hearts were too full for that; but as +the tears ran thickly down their cheeks, they grasped each other's hand, +and then, fairly sobbing, George hurried from the office.</p> + + + + +<a name="9"></a> +<h2>Chapter IX.</h2> + +<h3>In Exile.</h3> + +<p>George went direct from the office to the railway station, and took a +ticket to Plymouth. He had but a short time to wait before the train +left, and bore him away. The green fields and smiling country were +nothing to him; he felt no pleasure in seeing the merry, happy children +playing in the lanes, as the train whizzed past. The greetings of +friends on the platforms at the different stations only made him sigh. +Who would greet him on his journeys? Tired and worn out with sleepless +nights and anxious days, he tried to doze, but the attempt was vain. He +feared lest some one might have tracked his steps to the station, and +have telegraphed for him to be stopped at the terminus. Then, when he +had thought and pondered over such probabilities as these, and +endeavoured to dismiss them, he tried to form some plans for the future; +but all the future was dark—no ray of light, however faint or distant, +could be seen, and every plan he would make must be left to +circumstances. When the passengers alighted at one of the stations to +take refreshments, George got out too, for the purpose of breaking his +long fast. He tried to eat a biscuit, but he could not get it down,—all +appetite was gone; so, drinking a glass of ale, he wandered to the book +stall, and purchased a newspaper to read during the remainder of the +journey. The train started off again, and George settled himself to +read. The first thing that met his eye was an account of the assizes, +and the first case was headed, "Forgery by a Banker's Clerk." This +brought back to remembrance, more vividly than ever, the sad scenes of +the past few days; he threw the paper out of the window, and abandoned +himself to thought.</p> + +<p>At last the train arrived at Plymouth. George hastened on to the +platform, and walked rapidly into the town, fearing lest any one should +recognize him, or lest any official should wish to detain him. With his +bag in hand, he wandered through the streets, uncertain what to do or +where to go. Presently he came to a small house, in an obscure street, +with a placard in the window stating that apartments were to let. He +knocked, and was answered by the landlady, a respectable looking woman, +who told him that she had a bedroom and sitting-room to let, and would +accommodate him on reasonable terms. George said he should not require +the room more than a few days, or a week, as he was about to leave by +one of the vessels in the port. The terms were arranged, and he at once +took possession. As it was very late, he thought he would go to bed +without delay.</p> + +<p>"Will you not have some supper first?" asked the landlady.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said George: "I am tired with my journey, and shall be +glad to get to sleep as soon as I can."</p> + +<p>"But, sir, you really look ill," persisted the landlady, who was a kind, +motherly woman; "will you let me make you a little spirits and water?"</p> + +<p>"I will not refuse that," said George, "for I do feel ill. Parting with +friends and relatives is at all times a disagreeable matter, and I have +bidden good-bye to them in London to-day, rather than bring them down +here."</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir! parting is a sad thing," answered the woman. "It is two years +since my son went to sea; he was much about your age, sir, and he went +away against my wish, and I have never seen or heard from him since. He +has nearly broken my heart, poor boy, and left me all alone in this +wide, hard world."</p> + +<p>George was glad to have some one to talk to, but he was distressed by +this narration of his landlady. If she mourned for her son, who had been +absent for two years, how would his mother mourn?</p> + +<p>George passed a restless, anxious night; when he dozed off to sleep, it +was only to be tormented with harrowing dreams, in which he fancied +himself at one time standing before a judge in a court of justice, +answering to the crime of forgery. At another, gazing upon a funeral +procession moving slowly and solemnly along, with his Uncle Brunton +following as sole mourner. Then he would start up, half with joy and +half with sorrow, as he fancied he heard voices like those of his mother +and uncle calling to him from the street. His head ached, and his heart +was heavy. He felt thankful when the morning dawned, and it was time to +rise. He bathed his hot, feverish head in water, and dressed; but as he +passed by the looking-glass and caught a glance at his pale, haggard +countenance, so changed within a few short hours, he started.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! give me strength! give me strength!" he said. "If I should be +ill, if anything should happen to me, what should I do? I am all alone; +there is no one to care for me now!" And he sank down in a chair, +burying his face in his hands as if to hide the picture his mind had +drawn.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, he strolled to the docks, looked over some of the +vessels, and made inquiries about the shipping offices. He learned that +a ship was about to sail immediately to Port Natal, and that all +information could be obtained of the agents. Thither George repaired; +the agent gave him an exaggerated account of the signal prosperity which +all enterprising young men met with in Natal, praised Pietermaritzburg, +the capital of the colony, and offered to give him letters of +introduction to residents there, who would advise him as to the best +ways of making a comfortable living. The agent then took him down to the +vessel, told him that he must take a passage at once, if he wished to +leave by her, as she would sail in two or three days at the latest. It +was a matter of comparative indifference to George where he went—the +large, lonely world was before him, and Port Natal might make him as +good a home as anywhere else. George went back with the agent to the +office, and paid a deposit of fifteen pounds on the passage money.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, sir?" asked the agent, with pen in hand, ready to +make the entry.</p> + +<p>George coloured as he answered, "Frederick Vincent."</p> + +<p>"Then, Mr. Vincent, you will be on board not later than nine o'clock on +Tuesday morning; the vessel will go out of harbour by twelve. You can +come on board as much earlier as you like, but I have named the latest +time. You had better send your luggage down on Monday."</p> + +<p>"Luggage?" said George. "Oh, yes! that shall be sent in time."</p> + +<p>As George returned to his lodgings, he felt even more wretched than when +he started out It was Wednesday morning, and the vessel would not leave +till the following Tuesday. The excitement of choosing a vessel was +over; there was now only the anxiety and suspense of waiting its +departure. True, he had his outfit to purchase, but this would have to +be done furtively; he could not bear to be walking in the streets in +broad daylight, noticed by passers-by, every one of whom he fancied knew +his whole history, and was plotting either to prevent his departure, or +to reveal his secret.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murdoch (that was the name of his landlady) endeavoured to make him +as comfortable as possible in his apartments; but external comfort was +nothing to George—he wanted some word of love, some one to talk to, as +in days of old. He avoided conversation as much as possible with Mrs. +Murdoch, for she would talk of her absent son, and every word went as an +arrow to George's heart.</p> + +<p>That first day seemed a week. Hour after hour dragged wearily along, and +when six o'clock in the evening came, George thought all time must have +received some disarrangement, for it seemed as if days had elapsed since +the morning. He went out after dark to a neighbouring shop and made some +purchases of outfit; but he was thankful when he had completed his task, +for he had noticed a man walking backwards and forwards in front of the +shop, and he felt a nervous dread lest it should be some spy upon him. +He resolved that he would remain in his rooms, and not go out again +until he left for the voyage on Tuesday, but would ask Mrs. Murdoch to +make the remainder of the necessary purchases for him.</p> + +<p>How lonely and desolate George felt that night! More than once he half +determined rather to bear shame and reproach, and have the society of +those he loved, than continue in that dreadful isolation. He was +thoroughly unmanned. "Oh, that Hardy or Ashton were here, or any friend, +just to say, 'George Weston, old fellow,' once more; what a weight of +dreariness it would remove!" Then he would wonder what was going on at +home, whether his mother was plunged in grief, or whether she was +saying, "He has brought it all on himself, let him bear it." But George +could not reconcile this last thought; he tried hard to cherish it; he +felt he would infinitely rather know his mother was filled with anger +and abhorrence at his crime, than that she mourned for him, and longed +to press him to her bosom and bind up the wounded heart. But he could +not shake off this last idea. It haunted him every moment, and added to +the weight of sorrow which seemed crushing him.</p> + +<p>Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed, and George was still the victim +to anxiety and corroding care. He had paced his room each day, and +tossed restlessly in his bed each night; had tried reading and writing, +to while away the time, and had found every attempt futile.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murdoch was anxious on his account.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent," she said to him, "you eat nothing, you take no exercise; +you don't sleep at night, for I can hear you, from my room, tossing +about; and I am doctor enough to know that you are ill, and will be +worse, if you do not make some alteration. Do be persuaded by me, and +take some little recreation, or else you will not be in a fit state to +go on board on Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, Mrs. Murdoch," replied George, "but I have no bodily +ailment. If I could get a change of thought, that is the best physic for +a mind diseased."</p> + +<p>"It is, sir," replied the landlady; "and now will you think me rude if I +tell you how you may have that change of thought? You are about to start +on a very dangerous voyage; for long months you will have the sky above +and the sea below, and only a few planks between you and death. Have +you, sir, committed your way to the Lord, and placed your life in His +hands? I know it is a strange thing to ask you, but I hope you will not +be offended. You have seemed so sad for the past day or two, that I +could not help feeling you wanted comfort, and none can give it but the +Heavenly Friend."</p> + +<p>"I do want comfort and support, Mrs. Murdoch, but—"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, there is no <i>but</i> in the case. 'Come onto Me, all ye that are +weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest'—is said to all; and +we only have to go to Him to find all we want."</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. Murdoch, I will see if I cannot combine both your +suggestions; and as to-morrow will be Sunday, it will be a recreation to +go to some church or chapel. Can you recommend me a good preacher?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, that I can. If you will go to my pew at chapel to-morrow +morning, I am sure you will like the gentleman who preaches there."</p> + +<p>"Then I will go," said George.</p> + +<p>When he went up to his room again, those few words of Mrs. Murdoch were +still speaking to him.</p> + +<p>"'Weary and heavy laden!' he thought; surely that is my lot. I so young, +once so happy, to feel weary and heavy laden; how strange! But no, it is +not strange—it is natural. Sin brings its punishment, and it is hard +work, bearing its burden! oh! that I could find some spot where I could +rest."</p> + +<p>There was a spot, not far from George, where he could have rested, but +he did not know it. He was oppressed with his weariness, and he longed +for peace and ease of mind to come to him. He did not consider the +words, "Come unto ME."</p> + +<p>There was an old Family Bible on the book-case in his room, and George +took it down. It was a long time since he had read the Word of God: and +when he had it was only to compare it with the dangerous opinions he had +received, and find out what he imagined to be its discrepancies and +contradictions. A feeling of remorse came over him as he put the book on +the table.</p> + +<p>"What right have I to open this book, or attempt to find anything here +for encouragement?" he asked himself. "I have mocked and ridiculed it in +days of prosperity, and yet I am willing to take it up in trouble, as if +it were an old friend. Ah! it was an old friend once, but that has all +gone by now."</p> + +<p>He sat a long time looking at the book. Perhaps there is nothing that +brings back the memories of the past more vividly than the sight of a +Family Bible to one who has long ceased to read and love it. There are +old scenes of childhood associated with it which time can never erase. +Who cannot remember sitting on his mother's knee, or with chair drawn up +beside his father, hearing its sweet music sounded in the home circle on +the Sabbath night? Who can forget the last evening of the holidays +before going back to school, when the old book was brought out, and some +useful text was selected as a monitor and remembrancer? Who can forget +the time when some loved one was ill, and as friends and relatives sat +round the bed of the invalid, the Book was laid upon the table, and +words of comfort were proclaimed to all.</p> + +<p>Many and many a scene moved past George in the mental panorama which the +sight of Mrs. Murdoch's book created. He seemed not to be remembering, +but to be living in the former days. There was his father seated in the +old arm-chair, with Carlo, the faithful dog at his feet, and his elbows +rented upon the table, and his head upon his hand—a favourite +attitude—as he read the Sacred Word. There was dear old Dr. Seaward, +with his spectacles stuck up on his forehead, in his study at +Folkestone, and a party of boys round him, listening eagerly to the +words of instruction and advice which fell from his lips.</p> + +<p>And then the past merged into the present, and George started to find +himself alone in a strange room, in a strange town, with a strange Bible +before him.</p> + +<p>He opened the Book and read. The fifty-first Psalm was the portion of +Scripture to which he inadvertently turned, commencing, "Have mercy upon +me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness; according unto the +multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions."</p> + +<p>He read the Psalm through in amazement. Again he read it, with +increased wonder and astonishment, that any one should have made a +prayer so exactly like that which he felt in his heart he wanted to +pray; and at last he went to the door and locked it, for fear of +interruption, took the Bible from the table and placed it on a chair, +and kneeling down read the prayer again; and repeating it aloud, +sentence by sentence, offered it up as his petition to the throne of +Mercy.</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p>On Sunday morning, when the bells were ringing their glad peals, and the +people were already in the streets, on their way to the different places +of worship, George started off, directed by Mrs. Murdoch, to the chapel +of which she had spoken to him.</p> + +<p>He felt very sad as he walked along; it was the last Sunday, perhaps, he +should ever spend in England, and he must spend it alone, an alien from +all whom he loved. The temporary calm which he had experienced on the +previous evening had gone; no prayer for assistance through the day had +issued from his lips that morning, but there was the old feeling of +shame, and chagrin, and disgrace, which had haunted him for the past +week, and with it the dogged determination to bear up against it until +it should be lost in forgetfulness. But George had resolved to go to +chapel that morning, because he felt he wanted a change of some sort, +and there was a melancholy pleasure in spending a part of his last +Sunday in England after his once customary manner.</p> + +<p>The preacher was an old gentleman, of a mild, benevolent countenance, +and with a winning, persuasive manner. When he gave out the first hymn, +reading it solemnly and impressively, George felt he should have +pleasure in listening to the sermon. The congregation joined in the hymn +of praise, with heart and voice lifted up to the God of the Sabbath in +thanksgiving. The singing was rich and good, and George, who was a +passionate lover of music, was touched by its sweet harmony. He did not +join in the hymn, his heart was too full for that; but the strains were +soothing, and produced a natural, reverential emotion which he had been +long unaccustomed to feel.</p> + +<p>The minister took for his text the words, "'Lord, if thou wilt, thou +canst make me clean.' And Jesus put forth His hand, and touched him, +saying, 'I will, be thou clean.'"</p> + +<p>A rush of joy thrilled through George as he heard the words. His +attention was rivetted as he listened to the simple story of the leper +being restored to health; and when the preacher drew the comparison +between leprosy and sin, and revealed Jesus as the Great Physician to +the sick soul, who, in reply to the heartfelt wish, could say, "Thy +sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee," George felt the whole +strength of his soul concentrated in that one desire, "Lord, if thou +wilt, thou canst make <i>me</i> clean." He looked into his own heart—he was +almost afraid to look—and saw the ravages of disease there. He thought +of his past life; there was not one thing to recommend him to God. +<b>Never</b> before had he seen his sin in the light in which it was now +revealed by God's Word. He had viewed it in relation to man's opinion, +and his own consciousness; but now the Holy Spirit was striving within +him, and showing him his position in the sight of God.</p> + +<p>The preacher went on to unfold the sweet story of the Cross, to tell of +the simple plan of salvation, and to point to Jesus, the Lamb of God, +"who taketh away the sins of the world." It seemed to George as if he +had never heard the glad tidings before; it had never made the hot tear +run down his cheek, as he thought of the Saviour suffering for sins not +His own, until now; it had never before torn the agonised sigh from his +heart, as the truth flashed before him that it was he who had helped to +nail the Holy One to the accursed tree; he had never realised before +that earth was but the portal to the heavenly mansions—that time was +but the herald of eternity. Now, all these things came crowding upon his +mind, and when the sermon concluded he was in a bewilderment of joy and +sorrow.</p> + +<p>A parting hymn was sung—that glorious old hymn—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"There is a fountain filled with blood,<br /> + Drawn from Emmanuel's veins."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>When it came to those lines—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"The dying <i>thief</i> rejoiced to see<br /> + That fountain in his day;<br /> +And there may I, though vile as he,<br /> + Wash all my sins away:"</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>he could bear it no longer: he could not restrain the torrent of tears +which was struggling to get free; he could not stay in that assembly of +people; he must be alone, alone with God, alone with his own heart.</p> + +<p>When he reached his apartments, he went immediately to his room, and +there, beside his bed, he knelt and poured out his soul to God. Words +could not tell his wants, words could not express his contrition; but +there he knelt, a silent pleader, presenting himself with all the dark +catalogue of a life's sin before his dishonoured God.</p> + +<p>George thought he had experienced the extremity of sorrow during the few +days he had been in Plymouth, but it was as nothing compared with that +he now felt. He had grieved over name and reputation lost, prospects +blighted, and self-respect forfeited, but now he mourned over a God +dishonoured, a Saviour slighted, a life mis-spent. Is there any sorrow +like unto that sorrow which is felt by a soul crushed beneath the sense +of sin?</p> + +<p>How that day passed, George hardly knew. He felt his whole life +epitomised in those few hours spent in solemn confession. Oh, how he +longed to realise a sense of pardon—to know and feel, as the leper knew +and felt, that he was made clean. But he could not do so: he only felt +himself lost and ruined, and found expression but in one cry, "Unclean! +unclean!"</p> + +<p>He was aroused in the evening by the ringing of church bells again; and, +taking a hasty cup of tea, at Mrs. Murdoch's solicitation, he once more +bent his steps to the place of worship he had visited in the morning, +with the earnest desire and prayer that he might hear such truths +taught as would enable him to see Jesus.</p> + +<p>How often does God "<i>devise means</i> that His banished be not expelled +from Him," and in His providential mercy order those events and +circumstances to occur, which are instrumental in preparing the mind for +the reception of His truth! It was no chance, no mere coincidence, that +the preacher took for his text those words which were associated with so +many recollections of George, "<i>for me to live is Christ</i>."</p> + +<p>Simply, but earnestly, he drew pictures of life, in its many phases, and +contrasted them with the one object worth living for. Upon all else was +written, vanity of vanities—living for pleasure was but another name +for living for future woe: living for wealth was losing all; living for +honour was but heaping condemnation for the last day: while living for +Christ gave not only pleasure, and riches, and honour here, but +hereafter. Then he spoke of the preciousness of Jesus to those who +believe, as the sympathising Friend, and the loving Brother; of the +honour and joy of living for Him who had died to bring life and +immortality to light; and of that "peace which passeth understanding."</p> + +<p>That night there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over a +new-born soul. As George listened to the voice of the preacher, there +fell from his eyes as it had been scales, and he saw the Father running +to embrace the returning prodigal, and felt the kiss of His forgiving +love. The words which his earthly father had last spoken to him, were +those chosen by his heavenly Father to show him his new blissful +relationship as a son. And at what a gracious time! George was a +wanderer, an outcast, without father or friend, without object or aim in +life, and the doors of heaven were thrown open to him; the sympathy of +Divine love was poured into that aching heart, and the words of +rejoicing were uttered, "This, MY SON, was dead, and is alive again; was +lost, and is found."</p> + +<p>The weary one was at rest, the heart of stone palpitated with a living +breath, "The dead one heard the voice of the Son of God, and lived."</p> + +<p>Who can sympathise with George as he sat in his room that night, +overwhelmed with joy unspeakable? He was a new creature in a new world; +old things had passed away, behold all things had become new. He looked +up to heaven as his home, to God as his Father, to Jesus as his great +elder Brother; and he realised his life as hidden with Christ in God, +redeemed and reconciled, henceforth not his own, but given to Him who +had washed him, and made him clean in His own blood.</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p>Great joy is harder to bear than great sorrow. George had suddenly gone +from one to the other extreme, and at a time when he was suffering from +physical prostration, the result of such strong mental struggles.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, it is nine o'clock," Mrs. Murdoch called out, as she +knocked at his door next morning. No answer was returned.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, will you come down to breakfast, sir?" she repeated more +loudly, but with no greater success.</p> + +<p>Again she knocked, wondering that George should sleep so soundly, and be +so difficult to arouse, as he was accustomed to answer at the first +call.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, breakfast is waiting!"</p> + +<p>No answer coming, Mrs. Murdoch was anxious; she knew George had been +really ill for several days past, and had noticed his strange manner on +the previous evening. Without further hesitation, she opened the door, +and there on the floor lay George Weston, insensible, having apparently +fallen while in the act of dressing.</p> + +<p>Calling for assistance, she at once laid him upon the bed, applied all +the restoratives at hand, and without a moment's delay despatched a +messenger to the chemist in the next street, with instructions for him +to attend immediately.</p> + + + + +<a name="10"></a> +<h2>Chapter X.</h2> + +<h3>Making Discoveries.</h3> + +<p>"Will you grant me leave of absence for to-day?" Charles Hardy asked Mr. +Sanders, a few minutes after George had left the office, on the gloomy +and eventful morning when he disclosed the secret of his guilt.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what to say—what to do," answered Mr. Sanders, puffing +and blowing; "business will come to a stand-still—the shutters had +better go up at once. But if you want particularly to be off to-day, I +suppose I must manage to spare you."</p> + +<p>"I may want several days, sir; but if that should be the case, I will +return to the office to-morrow in time to see Mr. Compton immediately he +comes back"</p> + +<p>It was but the work of five minutes for Charles to write a short note, +change his office coat, and prepare to start The note was addressed to +Mr. Brunton, care of Mr. Sanders till called for, and ran as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"MY DEAR SIR,</p> + +<p>"Do not be more uneasy than necessary about George. I think I have a +clue by which his address may be ascertained. If so, I will report +progress to you to-night; but I leave this note for you, in order to +allay the distress you will feel in learning he is not here. Rest +assured of my earnest desire to serve my dear friend, and to relieve him +if possible. My time and services you may command in this cause. In +haste,</p> + +<p align="right">"Yours very faithfully,<br /> +"CHARLES HARDY."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Hardy had a clue, it is true; but it was a very faint one. He had +noticed, upon the table of Mr. Compton's room, a "Bradshaw's Railway +Guide;" and as he had not seen one there previously, he imagined it must +have been brought in by George, with his carpet-bag and other things, +and there left. One page of the book was turned down; Hardy had eagerly +opened it, and found it referred to the departures from the Great +Western Station.</p> + +<p>"I'll go on at once to that station," he thought. "He told me he might +be leaving England; perhaps he has gone to Liverpool, Plymouth, or Cork, +or some shipping place that can be reached by this line. At all events, +I have no other chance but this."</p> + +<p>With all speed Charles drove off to Paddington. Diligently he conned +over the intricate mysteries of "Bradshaw" as he journeyed along, +endeavouring to ascertain when trains would be leaving for any of the +places to which he had imagined his friend might be going. It is hardly +necessary to say he could not find what he wanted; but his anxiety and +suspense were relieved by the search.</p> + +<p>Before alighting at the station, Hardy carefully glanced all around to +ascertain that George was not in sight; for it was not his intention to +speak to him or endeavour to turn him from his purpose, knowing that, in +his present excited state he would stand no chance whatever of +frustrating his friend's plans, but would rather be adopting the most +certain means of destroying his own. Hardy's present object was only to +try and find out to what part George would travel, and then communicate +with Mr. Brunton and get his advice how to proceed.</p> + +<p>Cautiously he walked along the platform, looking into every +waiting-room, and making inquiries of the porters it they had seen any +one answering to the description he gave of George. This course proving +futile, he went to the ticket-office, and consulted a time-table, to +find whether any train had recently left for any of the places which, he +felt convinced, were the most probable for George to choose. An hour or +two had elapsed since the last train left, and George had not had more +than twenty minutes' start ahead of him. He took down in his pocket-book +the time for the departure of the next train; and then choosing a +secluded spot in the office, where he would be out of observation, and +yet able to see all who came up for tickets, he waited patiently until +the slow, dawdling hand of the clock neared the hour.</p> + +<p>Hardy felt the chances were fifty to one that while he was waiting there +George might be at some other station, leaving London without a trace to +his whereabouts; he thought whether, after all, George might not have +purposely, instead of accidentally, left the "Bradshaw" with that +particular page turned down, in order that, should he be sought, a wrong +scent might be given; and even if he intended to travel by this line and +to one of these particular places, might he not choose nighttime as the +most desirable for his object? But Hardy had <i>purpose</i> in him; he would +not throw away the strongest clue he had, although that was faint, and +he resolved to stay there until midnight, it need be, rather than +abandon his design,</p> + +<p>His patience was not put to such a test as this. While he was standing, +with palpitating heart, behind that door in the booking office, George +was in the porters' room, not a hundred yards off, waiting with deeper +anxiety for the clock to point to the hour when the train should start. +Presently, the first bell rang. A number of people, with bags and +packages in hand, came crowding up to the ticket office, but George was +not there. Hardy could scarcely refrain from rushing out to look around. +What if he should get into a train without a ticket, or send a guard to +procure one for him? A hundred doubts and fears were pressing upon him, +and—the second bell rang. Two or three minutes more, and the train +would be off. At the moment he was consulting his pocket-book to see how +long a time must elapse before the next train would leave, he started +with joyful surprise to see George walk hurriedly up to the office and +obtain a ticket. As hurriedly he disappeared. "Now is my chance," +thought Hardy.</p> + +<p>"Where did that young man take his ticket for?" he asked the clerk, as +soon as he had elbowed his way past the few remaining persons who were +before the window.</p> + +<p>"Which one?" said he; "two or three young men have just taken tickets."</p> + +<p>"I mean the last ticket but one you issued?"</p> + +<p>"Plymouth."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" cried Hardy, to the astonishment of the clerk, who probably +would not have given the information, had he not thought the inquirer +wanted a ticket for the same place.</p> + +<p>Hardy was too cautious, even in the moment of his surprise, to let his +object be lost by over-haste; he knew it would not be wise to let +himself be seen, and though he longed to rush after George and say, +"Good-bye, cheer up, old chap!" he only allowed himself the painful +pleasure of looking through the window of a waiting-room, and seeing his +old friend and chum, sad and solitary, get into the carriage. Shriek +went the whistle, and away went the train. Whether it whizzed along so +rapidly, or the smoke and steam enveloped it, or from whatever cause it +was, Charles Hardy found his sight growing dimmer, until a mist shut out +the scene.</p> + +<p>From the station Hardy went home. He wanted to tell his parents some of +the occurrences of the day, and let them know of his expected absence. +He knew that he had difficulties to meet. George had always been kindly +received by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy; they both liked him, and were glad when +he came to spend an evening at their house. But latterly they had been +rather anxious about the growing intimacy between him and their son, and +often had a word of caution been given that Charles should be very +careful how far he allowed his friend to influence him.</p> + +<p>Now Hardy could only tell his parents that George had got into worse +trouble than ever—such trouble that he was obliged to leave his +situation, and had decamped, no one except himself knew where. Of course +Mr. and Mrs. Hardy would not put a good construction upon the affair. He +anticipated they would say, "Well, I always feared he would come to +this;" and would try to dissuade Charles from having anything more to do +with him. It was not to be expected they would look with such leniency +upon the matter as he would. Therefore, it was with no small difficulty +he proceeded, immediately upon reaching home, to tell them of what had +occurred. It was a short story, and soon told.</p> + +<p>"Now, father," said Hardy, before allowing him time to bring objections +to the part he had performed that day, "I have promised Mr. Brunton to +assist in finding George, and I have told Mr. Sanders I may be away some +days from the office. I know Mr. Compton will not object to this; if +that is all, I can have this leave of absence instead of the holiday he +promised me next mouth. George must be found; if I can help it, he shall +not leave England—at all events, not in this way. I know it will kill +Mrs. Weston, if he does."</p> + +<p>"Well, Charles, I know your kindheartedness, and I appreciate it; but I +cannot give my consent to the plan. Recollect, by associating yourself +with your former friend now, you do injury to yourself; he has got +himself into disgrace—he must bear the burden of it. What will Mr. +Compton think, when he hears that you—you who have always maintained +such strict integrity—have gone off after a dishonest, runaway clerk?"</p> + +<p>"I never wish to run counter to your opinions, father, if I can help it; +but I must do so now, George Weston is my friend—not <i>was</i> my friend, +as you said just now—and I would not act such a cowardly part as to +desert him. Don't be vexed at what I say; I know you advise for my good; +but you do not know how I feel in this matter. Suppose our positions +were changed, and I had done as George has done—there is no +impossibility in such a case—I am too weak against temptation to doubt +that had I been placed in the circumstances similar to his, I might have +done the same, Suppose I had, what would you have thought of me? Should +I have been your dishonest, runaway son, to whom all friendship must be +denied, and who might be left to bear any burden alone, because I had +brought it upon myself? No, father; you would be the first to seek and +comfort me, and the first to cry 'Shame!' upon any of my friends who +turned and kicked me the moment I had fallen."</p> + +<p>Mr. Hardy could not resist the force of his son's argument, nor could he +refrain from admiring the genuineness of his friendship for George, and +the manly determination he had formed to assist him.</p> + +<p>"Well, Charles," he said, "I do not blame you for taking this course. I +hope it may be serviceable to your friend, and without any injury to +yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do not fear, father. And now I must pack up a few necessaries in my +bag, and be off to Mr. Brunton's. If I do not return home to-morrow, do +not be uneasy about me, and I will write to you every day to say how +things are going on."</p> + +<p>When Hardy arrived at the house of Mr. Brunton, he found him, as he +anticipated, in a high state of nervous anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I am so thankful you have arrived, Mr. Hardy," he said, shaking him +warmly by the hand: "and I need not tell you Mrs. Weston has been +waiting with great impatience to see you."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Weston! is she here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; not many minutes after you had left the office I called there, and +received the sad news about—about George. I at once telegraphed to Mrs. +Weston to come up to town, and it needed no urging to hasten her, for +she had only a short time before received a letter from him, which had +filled her with alarm. But let us go to her at once," said Mr. Brunton, +leading the way to the drawing-room; "she entreated I would bring you to +her the moment you arrived."</p> + +<p>As Hardy entered, Mrs. Weston sprang to meet him.</p> + +<p>"Have you found George?—where is he?" she asked, and the look of +struggling hope and despair was touching to witness.</p> + +<p>"I have not found him, Mrs. Weston, but I know the place of his present +destination. He has gone to Plymouth;" and then Hardy briefly explained +the incidents of the morning.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you how thankful I am to you, Mr. Hardy," said Mrs. +Weston, as he concluded. "May God bless you for your kindness to my pool +George!"</p> + +<p>"George would have done more for me, Mrs. Weston," Hardy replied; "but, +at present, little or nothing has been done. Have you any plans, and can +I help you in them?"</p> + +<p>"We must go on as soon as possible to Plymouth, and find out where he +is. He may perhaps be on the eve of starting away by some of the vessels +in the port. Not a minute should be lost."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir, I will go down to Plymouth by the mail train which leaves in +about a couple of hours, if you will let me; and I promise you that I +will do my best to find him," said Hardy.</p> + +<p>This unexpected proposition removed an infinite burden from Mr. +Brunton's mind. He felt that it was his duty to see Mr. Compton at once, +and he had other engagements which made it impossible for him to leave +that night. He did not like Mrs. Weston travelling alone, in her present +anxious and desponding state, and had been at his wit's end all day to +know how to manage.</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Hardy, can you go? Have you consulted your friends at home? +Can you manage to get leave of absence from the office?—remember they +will be short of hands there," asked Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>"I have made all arrangements at home, sir and my only difficulty is +about Mr. Compton. But if you will please see him as soon as he returns, +and explain why I have left, I am sure he will not be displeased. He was +so fond of George, I know he would have said 'Go, by all means,' had he +been at home."</p> + +<p>"I will undertake to set the matter right with him about you," said Mr. +Brunton; "but I doubt whether he will ever allow me to mention poor +George's name. Oh! Hardy, this is a sad, sad business!"</p> + +<p>"It is, sir; but it is sadder for George than for his friends," replied +Hardy. "I cannot bear to think of the trouble he is passing through at +this moment. It has cost him much to take the step he has taken, and +everything must be done to get him back from his voluntary banishment"</p> + +<p>"And everything shall be done that can," said Mr. Brunton. "God grant he +is still in England! I feel sure the sight of his mother and his friends +sorrowing for him, instead of turning against him as he supposes, will +alter his determination."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Hardy, may I place myself under your protection until my brother +joins us at Plymouth?" said Mrs. Weston, abruptly. "I will go down by +the mail train to-night; I cannot rest until he is found."</p> + +<p>Arrangements were speedily made, and that night the train bore off Mrs. +Western and Charles Hardy to Plymouth.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Mr. Brunton called at Falcon-court. Mr. Compton +had not yet arrived, but was expected hourly. Not wishing to lose time, +which that morning was particularly precious to him, he asked for some +writing materials, and seating himself in Mr. Compton's room, intended +to occupy himself until his arrival. After he had been there about +half-an-hour, his attention was arrested by hearing the door of the +clerk's office open, and an inquiry made.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. George Weston here?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston has left the office," answered Williams, who came forward to +answer the inquiry. "Left yesterday morning."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Where has he gone to? why did he leave?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think anyone knows where he has gone to," answered Williams; +"and I am not disposed to say why he left."</p> + +<p>Williams did not know why he had left, nor were the circumstances of the +case known to any of the clerks; but many surmises had been made which +were unfavourable to him, and it was with the exultant pleasure a mean +spirit feels in a mean triumph, that Williams had at last an opportunity +of speaking lightly of the once good name of George Weston, to whom he +had ever cherished feelings of animosity.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Compton in, or the manager?" asked the visitor. "I am +exceedingly anxious to know what has become of my friend."</p> + +<p>"Between ourselves," said Williams, "the less you say about your friend +the better. It strikes me—mind, I merely give you this confidentially +as my impression—that, when Weston turns up again, his friends will not +be over-anxious to renew their acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? I do not understand you."</p> + +<p>"What I mean is this. When a clerk is dismissed from an office during +the absence of the principal, leaves suddenly and has to hide +himself—more particularly when accounts at the banker's do not quite +balance—one cannot help thinking there is a screw loose somewhere."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton overheard all this; he who had never before heard an +unfavourable sentence spoken against his nephew. He had not fully +realised until that moment the painful position in which George's crime +had placed him, nor the depth of his nephew's fall in position and +character. He longed to have been able to stand up in vindication of +George against the terrible insinuations of Williams; he would have been +intensely thankful if he could have accosted the stranger, and said, +"That man is guilty of falsehood who dares to speak against the good +name of my nephew." But there he stood, with blood boiling and lips +quivering, unable to contradict one sentence that had been uttered.</p> + +<p>"If Weston <i>does</i> turn up," continued Williams, "will you leave any +message or letter, or your name, and it shall be forwarded?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Ashton," said the stranger; "but it is unnecessary to say +that I called. It does not do to be mixed up with matters like these. I +half feared something of the sort was brewing, but I had no idea tilings +would have taken so sudden a turn."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton could restrain his impatience no longer.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ashton," he said, coming suddenly upon the speakers, "will you +favour me by stepping inside a minute or two? I shall be glad to speak +to you."</p> + +<p>Ashton was taken by surprise at seeing Mr. Brunton where he least +expected to see him.</p> + +<p>"I have been placed in the uncomfortable position of a listener to your +conversation in the next room," said Mr. Brunton, closing the door; "and +I cannot allow those remarks made by the clerk with whom you were +talking to pass unqualified."</p> + +<p>"They need little explanation, sir," said Ashton. "George Weston has +been on the verge of a catastrophe for some months, and I believe I can +fill in the outline of information which you heard given me."</p> + +<p>"I am in ignorance of the causes which have led to my nephew's +disgrace," answered Mr. Brunton; "nor am I desirous to hear them from +any lips but his. You were one of his most intimate friends, I believe, +Mr. Ashton?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I think I may say his most intimate friend."</p> + +<p>"And you knew he was on the 'verge of a catastrophe.' I have no doubt +you acted the part of a friend, and sought to turn his steps from the +fatal brink?"</p> + +<p>"Well, as to that, he was fully competent to manage his own affairs +without my interference. I did tell him he would come to grief, if he +did not give up playing."</p> + +<p>"And did you add to that advice that he should quit those associates +who had assisted to bring him to such a pass?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not; why should I meddle with him in his companionships? You +speak, Mr. Brunton, as if I were your nephew's keeper. If George Weston +liked to live beyond his means, he was at liberty to do it for me. I am +sorry he made such a smash at last, but it is all that could be +expected. If ever you see George again, sir, you will oblige me by +conveying one message. I did not think when he came to me, two nights +ago, to try and borrow a hundred pounds, that he intended to mix me up +in any disgraceful business like that of this morning. Had I known it, +instead of fretting myself about his welfare, he should have—"</p> + +<p>"Made the discovery," interrupted Mr. Brunton, "that he never had a +friend in you. My idea of a friend is one who seeks the well-being of +another; speaks to him as a second conscience in temptation; loves with +a strength of attachment which cannot be broken; and, though sorrowing +over error, can still hope and pray for and seek to restore the erring. +Mr. Ashton, I do not wish to say more upon this matter; it is painful +for me to think how my nephew has been led downward, step after step, by +those whom he thought friends, and how sinfully he has yielded. When +you think of him, recollect him as the boy you knew at school, and try +to trace his course down to this day. You know his history, his +companionships, his whole life. Think whether <i>you</i> have influenced it, +and how; and if your conscience should say, 'I have not been his +friend,' may you be led by the remembrance to consider that no man +liveth to himself: and that for those talents and attractions with which +you are endowed, you will have hereafter to give account, together with +the good or evil which has resulted from them."</p> + +<p>To Ashton's relief the door opened, and Mr. Compton entered. Hastily +taking up his hat, he bade adieu to Mr. Brunton, glad of this +opportunity to beat a retreat.</p> + +<p>"Confound those Methodists!" he uttered to himself, as he walked up +Fleet-street; "speak to them, they talk sermons; strike them, and they +defend themselves with sermons; cut them to the quick, and I believe +they would bleed sermons. But why should he pounce upon me? What have I +done? A pretty life George would have led if it hadn't been for me, and +this is all the thanks I get. I wish to goodness he had not made such a +fool of himself; I shall have to answer all inquiries about him, and it +is no honour to be linked in such associations."</p> + +<p>The meeting between Mr. Compton and Mr. Brunton was one of mingled +feelings of pain and mortification. One had lost a valuable clerk, for +whom he cherished more than ordinary feelings of regard, and upon whom +he had hoped some day the whole management of the business would +devolve; the other had lost almost all that was dear to him on earth, +one whom he had watched, and loved, and worked for, and to whose bright +future he had looked forward with increasing pleasure, until it had +become a dream of life. Both were aggrieved, both were injured; but both +felt, in their degree, such strong feelings in favour of George, despite +his disgrace and crime, that they could look with more sorrow than anger +on the offender, and deal more in kindness than in wrath.</p> + +<p>Mr. Compton could not but agree with Mr. Brunton that he must be +discovered, if possible; and although he could never receive him under +any circumstances into his office again, nor could ever have for him the +feelings he once entertained, still he felt free to adhere to his first +determination not to prosecute or take any steps in the case, nor allow +it to have more publicity than could be helped.</p> + +<p>"He is still young," said he; "let him try to redeem the past. But it +is right he should feel the consequences of his actions, and no doubt he +will, as he has to encounter the difficulties which will meet him in +seeking to retrieve the position he has lost. You know me too well, +Brunton, to imagine that I do not estimate aright the extent of his +guilt; and you will give me credit for possessing a desire to do as I +would be done by in this case. I believe many a young man has been +ruined through time and eternity, by having been dealt with too +harshly—though in a legal sense quite justly; at the same time it has +been the only course to check a growing habit of crime in others. I know +well that in some instances it would be a duty to prosecute, if only as +a protection from suspicion of upright persons. But there are +exceptional cases, and I consider this to be one of them, although +perhaps many of our leading citizens might think me culpable in my +clemency; but I think I know your nephew sufficiently well to be +warranted in the belief that he feels his criminality, and will take a +lasting warning from this circumstance. And now, what do you intend to +do, since you know my determination?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton explained the plans he had formed, and the valuable +assistance which Hardy had rendered him. He was pleased to hear from his +injured friend the heartily expressed wish that the end in view might be +accomplished. Mr. Brunton had surmounted one great difficulty, and he +could not feel sufficiently thankful at the issue. Although he had known +Mr. Compton for many years, and had seen innumerable evidences of his +benevolence and good nature, he knew, too, that he was the very +personification of honesty and uprightness; and he dreaded lest, +incensed against George for his ingratitude, and fearing the influence +of his conduct might spread in the office, he would take measures +against him which, although perfectly just, would, by their severity, +prove deeply injurious in such a case, and reduce George, who was +naturally sensitive of shame, to a position from which he might never be +restored.</p> + +<p>At the very earliest opportunity Mr. Brunton went down to Plymouth. +Business of the greatest importance, which he could not set aside, had +detained him in London until Friday, and his uneasiness had been +increased during that time by two notes he had received—one from Mrs. +Weston, and the other from Hardy—telling him of the unsuccessful issue +of their search. With an anxious heart he alighted at the station at +Plymouth, and walked to the hotel, where his sister and Hardy were +staying. The look of despair he read in Mrs. Weston's countenance, as +they met, told him that no favourable result had been obtained.</p> + +<p>"We have been everywhere, and tried every possible plan to find poor +George," she said, when Mr. Brunton sat down beside her and Hardy to +hear the recital of their efforts. "I should have broken down long ago, +had it not been for our dear friend here, who has been night and day at +work, plotting schemes and working them out, and buoying me up with +hopes in their result. But I feel sure George cannot be in Plymouth, and +our search is vain."</p> + +<p>"So Mrs. Weston has said all along," said Hardy; "but I cannot agree +with her; at all events, I will not believe it until we find out where +he has gone. He has not taken a passage in any of the vessels, as far as +we can ascertain; he is not in any of the inns in the town, I think, for +we have made the most searching inquiries at all of them; but in this +large place it is difficult to find any one without some positive clue."</p> + +<p>"Have you been able to find out whether he really arrived here?" asked +Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>"I think I have. One of the porters rather singularly recollected a +person, answering to the description, arriving by the train in which +George left London. It seems he was hastening away from the station +without giving up his ticket No doubt he was nervous and absent in mind; +and when the porter called to him, he started and seemed as if he were +alarmed: but in a minute he produced his ticket and went out The porter +looked suspiciously, I suppose, at the ticket, and evidently so at +George, for he was able to give a full description of him."</p> + +<p>"That is so far satisfactory," said Mr. Brunton; "but have you made any +more discoveries to render you tolerably sure he is still in Plymouth."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have been to every shop where they fit out passengers for a sea +voyage, and have found out one where he purchased some articles of +clothing. But the clearest trace I have of him is from the shipping +agents. He was certainly looking over vessels on the morning after his +arrival here, for one or two captains have described him to me. I have +been a great many times down among the shipping, but have not made more +discoveries, and I cannot get any information from the shipping offices; +but in this you will probably meet with more success, sir, than I have, +for a young man is not of sufficient importance to command attention +from business men."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton was fully conscious of the difficulties which were in the +way of finding George, even supposing he was still in Plymouth: but he +was not without hope. He could not find words enough to express his +strong approbation of all that Hardy had done, and he felt sure that he +could have no better assistant in the undertaking than he. A series of +plans were soon formed: Hardy was to keep watch upon those vessels which +he thought it probable George might choose, and offer rewards to sailors +and others for information. Mr. Brunton was to try and discover the +names and descriptions of passengers booked at the shipping offices; and +Mrs. Weston was to keep a general lookout on outfitters' warehouses, and +other places where it might be probable George would visit.</p> + +<p>But every plan failed. Saturday night came, and, worn out with fatigue, +the anxious trio sat together to discuss the incidents of the day, and +propose fresh arrangements for the morrow. Sunday was not a day of rest +to them; from early morning they were all engaged in different +directions in prosecuting their search, and not until the curtain of +night was spread over the town, and the hum of traffic and din of bustle +had ceased, did they return to the hotel.</p> + +<p>After supper, Mr. Brunton took out his pocket Bible, and read aloud some +favourite passages. They seemed to speak with a voice of hope and +comfort, and inspired fresh faith in the unerring providence of Him who +doeth all things well.</p> + +<p>Very earnest were the prayers offered by that little party, as they +knelt together and commended the wanderer, wherever he might be, to the +care and guidance of the good providence of God. They felt how useless +were all plans and purposes unless directed by a higher source than +their own; and while they prayed for success upon the efforts put forth, +if in accordance with His will, they asked for strength and resignation +to bear disappointment Nor were their prayers merely that he whom they +were seeking might be found, but that he might find pardon and +acceptance with God, and that the evil which they lamented might, in the +infinitely wise purposes of Providence, be controlled for good.</p> + +<p>With fresh zeal and renewed hope the three set forth on the following +morning to prosecute their several plans. Hardy had learned that one or +two vessels would sail that day, and he was full of expectation that he +might meet with some tidings.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton felt rather unwell that morning—the press of business which +had detained him in London, the excitement of the journey, and the +fatigue of the previous days, had told upon his health. As he was +passing through a quiet part of the town, he called in at an +apothecary's to get a draught, which he hoped might ward off any serious +attack of sickness. While the draught was being prepared, Mr. Brunton, +who was intent upon his object and never left a stone unturned, +interrogated the apothecary, a gentlemanly and agreeable man, upon the +neighbourhood, the number of visitors in that locality, and other +subjects, ending by saying he was trying to discover the residence of a +relative, but without any knowledge of his address.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the conversation, a servant-girl, without bonnet or +shawl, came hurriedly into the shop, out of breath with running.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, if you please, sir, missus says, will you come at once to see +the young gentleman as stays at our house?—he's taken bad."</p> + +<p>"Who is your mistress, my girl?" asked the chemist.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, it's Mrs. Murdoch, of —— Street; and the young gentleman is +a lodger from London, and he's going away to-morrow to the Indies or +somewheres; but do come, sir, please—missus'll be frightened to death, +all by herself, and him so dreadful bad."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton had been an anxious listener. Was it possible that the young +gentleman from London could be George?</p> + +<p>"How long has your lodger been with you?" he asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"A week come Wednesday—leastways, come Tuesday night,"—was the +accurate answer.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton, with eyes flashing with excitement, turned to the medical +man. "Will you allow me to accompany you on this visit?" he asked; "I +have reason to believe that your patient may be the relative for whom I +am searching."</p> + +<p>"Then come, by all means," answered the doctor; and, preceded by the +girl, who was all impatience to get home, and kept up a pace which made +Mr. Brunton puff lustily, they reached the house of Mrs. Murdoch.</p> + + + + +<a name="11"></a> +<h2>Chapter XI.</h2> + +<h3>The Sick Chamber.</h3> + +<p>The sun had gone down, and the twilight was fast losing itself in night. +The pale moon was struggling to look out upon the world through the +dark, heavy clouds which had collected around, as if expressly to +prevent this purpose. The hum of traffic in the street had ceased, and +the only sounds that came in at the open window were strains of music, +and the confused clamour of voices from a neighbouring tavern. The room +was a picture of neatness. The bed was draped in snowy furniture, and +the coverlid bore evidence of good taste and the ingenuity of +industrious hands. The mantlepiece was adorned with a few photographs +and a vase of fresh-gathered flowers.</p> + +<p>Upon a table in the corner of the room stood a lamp, with a green shade +over it to screen the light from the bed. Beside it were bottles, +phials, and other appliances of a sick chamber.</p> + +<p>A group stood round the bed, watching, with thrilling anxiety, the face +of the doctor as he held the inanimate hand of George Weston.</p> + +<p>You might have heard the ticking of his watch as he stood there and +gazed in the face of the patient, while Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton and +Charles Hardy waited motionless, almost breathless, to hear his verdict.</p> + +<p>"It is a more serious case than I imagined at first," said the doctor; +"I do not wish unnecessarily to alarm you, but it is my duty to say that +the condition of the patient is one of great danger, but I trust not +past recovery."</p> + +<p>"What is the nature of the illness—tell me candidly?" asked Mr. +Brunton, when he could command speech.</p> + +<p>"Brain fever," was the laconic answer.</p> + +<p>For a long time George Weston lay in that awful state which is neither +death nor life—when the spirit seems to be hovering round the body, +uncertain whether to wing its flight for ever from the tenement of +earth, or return to sojourn still longer in its old familiar +dwelling-house. Sometimes he would rave in the frenzy of madness, and +then sink in exhaustion with scarcely the power to draw a breath.</p> + +<p>Never was a sick-bed tended with greater care than his. Night after +night Mrs. Weston sat beside him, bathing the fevered head and cooling +the parched lips. Nor would she leave that post for a moment, until Mr. +Brunton was obliged to insist upon her taking rest.</p> + +<p>"Reserve your strength," he said; "we know not what is before us; it may +be—but we have nothing to do with the future," he added, interrupting +himself; "that must be left in His hands."</p> + +<p>Hardy was not able to remain in Plymouth longer than Wednesday. Mr. +Compton had written to him to say that, being short of hands, he was +very much pressed in business, and now that the main object of his +journey had been attained—for Mr. Brunton communicated with him almost +immediately—he should be glad if he would return as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>As he stood beside the bed of George Weston on the morning of his +departure, and gazed into those pale and haggard features, which had +always beamed with a friendly smile for him, but which he might never +see again, he could not restrain the impulse of clasping his hand, and +uttering solemnly the prayerful wish, "God preserve and bless you, +George!"</p> + +<p>The words were not heard by George—his ears were closed in dull +insensibility—but they were caught by Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston, who +that moment entered the room, and Hardy was startled to hear the earnest +response to his prayer in their united "Amen!"</p> + +<p>"And that prayer shall ever be offered for you, Charles," said Mrs. +Weston; "I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid. I +shudder to think of what would have happened, had it not been for your +kind, noble, manly friendship. Poor George would have suffered in this +lonely place, away from all who loved him, and without proper care, +perhaps have died—died afoot."</p> + +<p>"You do not know how thankful I feel, Mrs. Weston, that our efforts have +not been in vain. Pray write to me every day, to say how he is going +on—if it is only just one line; and should there be any change for +the—for the better, do let me know at once, that I may come down again, +if only for a day, just to congratulate him."</p> + +<p>"And if there is another change—a change for the worse?" asked Mrs. +Weston, tearfully.</p> + +<p>"Write, telegraph—pray let me know somehow," answered Hardy. "I could +not bear to part with him without telling and showing him there was one +of his old friends who loved him to the last. Good-bye, dear Mrs. +Weston; do not over-tax your strength, and keep up a good heart; depend +upon it, there are yet happy days for you and for George."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston sadly missed her young friend after his departure. His +hopeful spirits had helped to buoy up her expectations and assuage the +sorrows of the present. It seemed as if the sun had hidden itself and +the stars had refused their light during those long days when the mother +sat watching at the bedside of her son. Mr. Brunton tried in every way +to relieve her, but his own heart was heavy, and the two felt more at +home in talking dolefully over the bad symptoms of the patient than in +looking forward to the future.</p> + +<p>But a day came when the strength of the fever abated, and reason +returned to her long vacant throne.</p> + +<p>It was toward evening: Mrs. Weston was sitting beside the bed, busily +stitching away at her work, and Mr. Brunton was resting his head upon +his hands as he turned over the pages of a book which he was trying to +deceive himself into the belief he was reading, when a deep sigh caused +them both to suspend their occupation.</p> + +<p>George raised himself up in bed, and gazed round the room. The +furniture screened the two watchers, and he fancied himself alone. He +raised a pillow at his back, and reclining upon it in the placid calm of +exhaustion, with his face turned toward the open window, watched the +clouds as they crossed the blue expanse, and indulged in a half +conscious reverie. Where had he been? Where was he? Had he passed the +dark valley of the shadow of death, and were there angel forms in those +snow-white clouds beckoning him away? What was that confused sound which +rang in his ears? Was it the murmuring of the dark stream as it washed +upon the untrodden shore?</p> + +<p>No: there was the little room where he had taken his lodgings; there was +the green paper on the wall with the large grape clusters; there was the +sound of human voices in the street And the consciousness that he was +alive, restored, flashed upon him with something of the bewildering +astonishment and joy which Lazarus must have felt when he heard the +words, "Come forth."</p> + +<p>Too weak to rise, he was not too weak to pray. Clasping his hands +together, and gazing up into the clear blue sky, from whence all clouds +were now dispersing, he poured out his overflowing heart in +thanksgiving.</p> + +<p>He spoke with God. The tremulous voice gained strength, the power of +faith and hope grew intensified, and he prayed with that love and +fervour which the grateful child of a heavenly Parent can only feel.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton were paralyzed with astonishment; +instinctively they shrank from disturbing that solemn time by coming +forward to speak with George and letting him recognise them; but with a +united impulse, both quietly and solemnly knelt down and joined in the +song of thanksgiving.</p> + +<p>Theirs was joy unspeakable; tears poured down both faces, and hushed +sobs of rejoicing burst from their hearts. All their prayers and earnest +longings had been answered; all their sorrow was turned into joy; and +that Friend of friends, whose delights are with the children of men, had +ordered, according to the tender mercy of His loving heart, all the evil +into overwhelming good.</p> + +<p>Presently the voice ceased; and, exhausted with the effort, George lay +down in calm and blissful tranquillity to sleep.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Weston rose from her knees, her dress touched a book on the +table, which fell to the ground. George was roused by the sound, and, +trying to draw aside the curtain, said,—</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Mrs. Murdoch?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston, although dreading the consequences of excitement, could +restrain no longer the yearning of her motherly heart to embrace her +son.</p> + +<p>"No, George, my dearest boy, it is your mother."</p> + +<p>"Mother! mother!" cried George, with the old former-day voice of love +and joy, passionately kissing the face of beaming happiness bent over +him, "Thank God you are here!"</p> + +<p>From that day George began rapidly to improve. The excitement produced +by the discovery that he had been sought and found, instead of doing him +injury, relieved his already-oppressed mind from a weight of care. Every +day brought fresh strength, and as he sat up in bed, carefully propped +up by pillows, with his uncle on one hand and his mother on the other, +he told them all the sorrowful and joyful details of his strange +experiences until the eventful morning when his strength gave way.</p> + +<p>"This is beginning life afresh, in every sense," he said; "here am I, a +poor mortal, almost helpless, just strong enough to know how weak I am; +and before me—if my life is spared—lies an untrodden path. But I begin +my restored life, through God's infinite mercy, with a new inner life; +and He who has given me that, will, I know, freely give me all things +that shall be for my good."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston never knew the fulness of joy before those days. Her only +son, in whom all her brightest earthly hopes were centred, had ever been +a source of deep anxiety to her. Her never-ceasing prayer had been that +he might be what he now was—a child of her Father; and in the +realization of her heart's desire she found such joy unspeakable, that +all the cares and troubles of long, weary years seemed as though they +had not been.</p> + +<p>George was soon sufficiently restored to be able to leave his bed and +sit up for a few hours on the sofa. The day for this trial of strength +having been definitely fixed by the doctor, Mrs. Weston wrote at once to +Hardy, inviting him, if he could manage to get away, to come down and +celebrate the event.</p> + +<p>The meeting between the two friends was as joyful as their parting had +been sorrowful.</p> + +<p>"George, my dear old boy," said Hardy, as he shook him by the hand, "it +does my eyesight good to see you again."</p> + +<p>"And it does my heart good to see you, old fellow," replied George, as +he returned the pressure. "You don't know how I have longed for your +coming, that I might tell you how deeply grateful I am to you for all +your brotherly love—"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, George," said Hardy, taking up his hat and buttoning his +coat; "I won't stay another minute unless you give over talking such +stuff What I've done! Why, if my pup, Gip, were to run away, I should do +for him what I have done for you—no more, no less. So let us drop the +subject, that's a good fellow, and then I'll sit down and chat with +you."</p> + +<p>Never was there a pleasanter chat by any little party than by that which +assembled in Mrs. Murdoch's best parlour that evening. All hearts were +full of thankfulness, and though there were some painful subjects +discussed, yet the joyful ones far more than counterbalanced them.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton found out, in the course of the evening, that he had +something very important to do, and probably Mrs. Weston discovered her +assistance was needed as well, for the friends found themselves, after a +while, alone, which was what they both wanted.</p> + +<p>"You have heard, Hardy, of all the strange things that have happened to +me?" George began, hesitatingly. "I should like to be able to tell you +all about them; but, somehow, I don't know how to put such matters into +words."</p> + +<p>"You mean, George, that one great, solemn, joyful event which has made +your life now something worth living for," said Hardy, relieving him of +a difficulty. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know it. The past two +years have been funny ones to both of us. Religion has been ground on +which we have not been able to tread together, as you know: but, thank +goodness, that has all gone by. Now, I must tell you my mind, George," +he continued, in that frank, manly way which was so natural to him; "I +never gave you credit for sincerity when you took up with those strange +notions which were so dangerous to you. I believed then that they were +convenient principles, which might be stretched and made to agree with +the dictates of your inclination. I do not say you did not believe what +you professed, but I always thought that you forced yourself into that +belief by self-deception. Now, wait, don't interrupt me. I know what you +are going to say; but whatever harm you did to others—God only knows +that—I do not think your change in sentiment did any harm to me! For +this reason—I saw you were not straightforward with your own heart, and +I felt sure you slighted that pure and holy religion in which we had +been instructed from childhood, not because in your heart of hearts you +disbelieved it, but because it condemned that course of conduct which +you were pursuing. Now, was it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Hardy, you are right. I can trace out now the processes of thought +through which I passed, to lead me to think and act as I did; and I +never knew before what a wretchedly poor thing a morally endowed, +intelligent human being is in his own strength. I did not know how weak +I was. I did feel sometimes oppressed with the idea that I was willingly +blindfolding myself—but, somehow, an argument was always at hand to +weigh down this feeling. But tell me why you think my endeavours to make +you believe as I did never did you injury? God grant they may not to +others."</p> + +<p>"Why, when I observed you, as I tell you I did, it was impossible for me +not to be on my guard. Nay, more, this question tormented me daily, 'You +believe George disregards religion, because it condemns him; if you +regard that religion, but do not practise it, does it not condemn you?' +Now this was a home-thrust, George, which I could not parry off. I tried +to determine not to be such a cowardly, mean-spirited creature as to try +and cheat God by pretending to believe Him, and yet fight under false +colours against Him; and so I gave up many of my old habits, and tried +to start afresh. And now, George, you don't know how thankful I am that +you are different to what you were. We have studied many things +together, joined in many plans and purposes; and now I hope we shall be +able to study the highest and best thing in earth or heaven—what God's +will is, and how to do it."</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p>That desire became the watchword of their lives.</p> +<hr width="100%" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE IN LONDON *** + +***** This file should be named 9940-h.htm or 9940-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/4/9940/ + +Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/9940-h/images/front.jpg b/9940-h/images/front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3c0c8f --- /dev/null +++ b/9940-h/images/front.jpg diff --git a/9940.txt b/9940.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f7cd712 --- /dev/null +++ b/9940.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4912 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Life in London + +Author: Edwin Hodder + +Posting Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #9940] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: November 2, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE IN LONDON *** + + + + +Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + + +LIFE IN LONDON + +OR, THE PITFALLS OF A GREAT CITY + +BY EDWIN HODDER, ESQ. + +1890. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + I. THE INTRODUCTION + + II. SCHOOL-BOY DAYS + + III. STARTING WELL + + IV. MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW + + V. A FARCE + + VI. THE LECTURE + + VII. GETTING ON IN THE WORLD + +VIII. A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP + + IX. IN EXILE + + X. MAKING DISCOVERIES + + XI. THE SICK CHAMBER + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE INTRODUCTION. + + +Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street in +Islington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience, +until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon the +panels. + +"Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as he +hurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron on +and sleeves tucked up, was busy in her domestic affairs. "Such splendid +news!" repeated George. "I have been down to Mr. Compton's with the +letter Uncle Henry gave me, in which he said I wanted a situation, and +should be glad if Mr. Compton could help me; and, sure enough, I was +able to see him, and he is such a kind, fatherly old gentlemen, mother. +I am sure I shall like him." + +"Well, George, and what did he say!" + +"Oh! I've got ever so much to tell you, before I come to that part. The +office, you know, is in Falcon Court, Fleet Street; such a dismal place, +with the houses all crammed together, and a little space in front, not +more than large enough to turn a baker's bread-truck in. All the windows +are of ground glass, as if the people inside were too busy to see out, +or to be seen; and on every door there are lots of names of people who +have their offices there, and some of them are actually right up at the +top storeys of the houses. Well, I found out the name of Mr. Compton, +and I tapped at a door where 'Clerk's Office' was written. I think I +ought not to have tapped, but to have gone in, for somebody said rather +sharply, 'Come in,' and in I went. An old gentleman was standing beside +a sort of counter, with a lot of heavy books on it, and he asked me what +I wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Compton, and had got a letter for +him. He told me to sit down until Mr. Compton was disengaged, and then +he would see me." + +"And what sort of an office was it, George? And who was the old +gentleman? The manager, I suppose!" + +"I think he was, because he seemed to do as he liked, and all the clerks +talked in a whisper while he was there. I had to wait more than +half-an-hour, and I was able to look round and see all that was going +on. It is a large office, and there were ten clerks seated on +uncomfortable high stools, without backs, poring over books and papers. +I don't think I shall like those clerks, they stared at me so rudely, +and I felt so ashamed, because one looked hard at me, and then whispered +to another: and I believe they were saying something about my boots, +which you know, mother, are terribly down at heel, and so I put one foot +over the other, to try and hide them." + +"There was no need of that, George. It did not alter the fact that they +were down at heel; and there is no disgrace in being clothed only as +respectable as we can afford, is there?" + +"Not a bit, mother: and I feel so vexed with myself because I knew I +turned red, which made the two clerks smile. But I must go on telling +you what else I saw. The old gentleman seems quite a character--he is +nearly bald, has got no whiskers, wears a big white neckcloth and a tail +coat, and takes snuff every five minutes out of a silver box. Whether he +knows it or not, the clerks are very rude to him: for when he took +snuff, one of them sneezed, or pretended to sneeze, every time, and +another snuffled, as if he were taking snuff too." + +"That certainly does not speak well for the clerks," said Mrs. Weston. +"Old gentlemen do have peculiar ways sometimes, but it is not right for +young people to ridicule them." + +"No, it is not; and I don't like to see people do a thing behind another +one's back they are afraid to do before his face. When the clerks had to +speak to the old gentleman, they were as civil as possible, and said, +'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' to him so meekly, as if they were quite +afraid of him; but after a little while, when he took up his hat and +went out, they all began talking and laughing out loud, although when he +was there, they had only occasionally spoken in low whispers. There was +only one young man, out of the whole lot, who did not join with them, +but kept at his work; and I thought if I got a situation in that office, +I should try and make friends with him." + +"That's right, George. I would rather you should not have a situation at +all, than get mixed up with bad companions. But go on, I am so anxious +to hear what Mr. Compton said." + +"Well, after half-an-hour, I heard a door in the next room close, and a +table-bell touched, and then the old gentleman, who had by this time +returned, went in Presently he came out again, and said Mr. Compton +would see me. Oh, mother! I felt so funny, you don't know. My mouth got +quite dry, my face flushed, and I couldn't think whatever I should say, +I felt just as I did that day at the school examination, when I had to +make one of the prize speeches. But I got all to rights directly I saw +Mr. Compton. He said, 'Good morning to you--be seated,' in such a nice +way, that I felt at home with him at once." + +"And what did you say to him, George?" + +"I had learnt by heart what I was going to say, but in the hurry I had +forgotten every word. So I said, 'My name is--' (it's a wonder I did not +say Norval, for I felt a bit bewildered at the sound of my own voice) +'--my name is George Weston, sir, and I have brought you a letter from +my uncle, Mr. Henry Brunton, who knows you, I think.' 'Oh! yes," he +said, 'he knows me very well; and, if I mistake not, this letter is +about you, for he was talking to me about a nephew the other day.' Isn't +that just like Uncle Henry?--he never said anything about that to us, +but he is so good and kind, we are always finding out some of his +generous actions, about which he never speaks. While Mr. Compton was +reading the letter, I had leisure to look at him, and at his room. He is +such a fine-looking old man, just like that picture we saw in the +Academy, last year, of the village squire. He looks as if he were very +benevolent and kind-hearted, and he dresses just like some of the +country gentlemen, with a dark green coat and velvet collar, a frill +shirt, and a little bit of buf. waistcoat seen under his coat, which he +keeps buttoned. He had got lots of books, and papers, and files about, +and sat hi an arm-chair so cosily--in fact, I should not have thought +that nice carpeted room was really an office, if it had not been for the +ground-glass windows. Just as I was thinking why it was the glorious +sunshine is not admitted into offices, Mr. Compton said--" + +"What did he say, George? I have waited so patiently to hear." + +"He said, 'Well, _Mr_. Weston,'--(he did really call me Mr. Weston, +mother; I suppose he took me for a young man: it is evident he did not +know I was wearing a stick-up shirt collar for the first time in my +life)--'I have read this letter, and am inclined to think I may be able +to do something for you.' That put my 'spirits up,' as poor father used +to say; and I said, 'I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.' So then he told me +that he wanted a junior clerk in his office, who could write quickly, be +brisk at accounts, and make himself generally useful, as the +advertisements in the _Times_ say. I told him I could do all these +things; and he passed me a sheet of paper, to give him a specimen of my +handwriting. I hardly knew what to write, but I fixed upon a passage of +Scripture, 'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the +Lord.' My hand was so shaky, that all the letters with tails to them had +the queerest flourishes you ever saw. Mr. Compton smiled when I handed +him the sheet of paper--I don't know whether it was at the writing, or +at the quotation, and I wished I had written a passage from Seneca +instead!" + +"You did not feel ashamed at having written a part of God's word, did +you, George?" + +"No, not ashamed, mother; but I thought it was not business-like, and +seemed too much like a schoolboy." + +"I think it was very business-like. It would convey the idea that you +would seek to do your business from the best and highest motives. But +what did Mr. Compton say?" + +"He only said he thought the handwriting was good. Then he told me that +he would take me as his clerk, and should expect me to be at my post +next Monday morning, at nine o'clock. 'And now,' he said, 'we must fix +upon a salary; and as your uncle has told me that you are anxious to +maintain yourself, I will give you a weekly sum sufficient for that +purpose; and if you give me satisfaction, I will raise it yearly.' And +what do you think he offered me, mother?" + +"I really do not know; perhaps, as you are young, and have never been in +a situation before, he said five shillings a week, although I did not +think you would get any salary at all for the first six months." + +"No, mother, more than five shillings; guess again," said George, his +face shining with excited delight. + +"Then I will guess seven and sixpence a week," said his mother, +doubtfully, for she thought she had gone too high. + +"More than that, mother; guess only once more, for I cannot keep it in +if you are not very quick." + +"Then I shall say ten shillings a week, George; but I am afraid I have +guessed too much." + +"No, mother, under the mark again. I am to have ten shillings and +sixpence--half a guinea a week! Isn't that splendid? Only fancy, Mr. +George Weston, Junior Clerk to Mr. Compton, at half-a-guinea a week! My +fortune is made; and, depend upon it, mother, we shall get on in the +world now, first-rate. Why, I shall only want--say, half-a-crown a week +for myself, and then there will be all the rest for you. Now don't you +think blind-eyed Fortune must have dropped her bandage this morning, and +have spied me out?" + +"No, George; but I think that kind Providence; which has always smiled +upon us when we have been in the greatest difficulties, has once more +shown us that all our ways are in the hands of One who doeth all things +well." + +"So do I, mother; and I do hope that this success, which has attended my +journey this morning, may turn out to our real good. I feel it will--we +shall be able to go on now so swimmingly, and I shall be getting a +footing in the world, so that by-and-bye we shan't have a single debt, +or a single care, and you will be growing younger as fast as I grow +older: and then, after a time, we will get a little house in the +country, and finish up our days the happiest couple in the British +dominions." + +For the remainder of that day, poor George was in a regular whirl of +excitement. A thousand schemes were afloat in his mind about the future, +of the most improbable kind. His income of half-a-guinea a week was to +do wonders, which were never accomplished by half a score of guineas. +He speculated about the rise in his salary at the end of the year, which +he was determined, if it rested upon his own industry, should not be +less than a pound a week; and then he forgot the first year, and +commenced calculating what he could do, with his increased salary, till, +at last, worn out with scheming, he said,-- + +"Money is a great bother, after all, mother. I've been calculating all +this day how we can spend my salary; and I am really more perplexed than +if Mr. Compton had said I should not have anything for the first six +months. I can't make ends meet if I attempt to do what I have planned, +that's very certain; so I shall quietly wait till the first Saturday +night comes, and I feel the half-guinea in my hand, and then I shall +better realize what it is worth." + +That was a pleasant evening Mrs. Weston and George spent together in +discussing the events of the day, and when it became time to separate +for the night, she said-- + +"This is one of the happiest days we have spent for a long time, George. +How your poor father would have enjoyed sharing it with us!" and the +widow sighed. + +"Mother," said George, "I have thought of poor father so many times +to-day, and I have formed a resolution which I mean to try and keep. He +was a good man. I don't think he ever did anything really wrong--and I +recollect so well what he used to tell me, when I was a boy"--(George +had jumped into manhood in a day, he fancied)--"I mean to take him for a +model; and if I find myself placed in dangers and difficulties, I shall +always ask myself, 'What would father have done if he had been in this +case?' and then I should try and do as he would." + +"May you have strength given to you, my deal boy, to carry out every +good resolution! But remember, there is a model which must be taken even +before that of your father. I mean the pure, sinless example of our +Lord; follow this, and adhere to the plain directions of God's word, and +you cannot go wrong. And now, good night; God bless you, my son!" + +It was a long time before George went to sleep; again and again the +events of the day came to his memory, and he travelled in thought far +into the future, peering through the mist which hung over unborn time, +and weighing circumstances which might never have a being. + +"I shall be quite accustomed to my duties by next Monday," he said to +his mother in the morning; "for I was all night long busy in the office, +counting money, posting books, and when I awoke I was just signing a +deed of partnership in the name of Compton and Weston." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SCHOOL-BOY DAYS. + + +George Weston was an only son, and, at the time our story commences, was +nearly seventeen years of age. His early years had been spent at home, +under the watchful care of kind and good parents. When he was ten years +old he was sent to a boarding school at Folkestone, and placed in the +charge of Dr. Seaward, a good man, who superintended his education, and, +besides imparting secular instruction, endeavoured to train his +character and make him good as well as clever. George was a sharp, +shrewd boy, a keen observer, who would know the why and the wherefore of +everything, and his lessons always came to him more as an amusement than +a task. He had a horror of being low down in his class, and if he did +not retain his place at the top, it was rarely through inattention or +want of study on his part. + +George was a great favourite with the whole school; he was a merry, +joyous fellow, who always had sunshine in his face and a kind word on +his lips; a ringleader in any harmless fun, and a champion on the side +of all the younger boys who met with oppression or injustice from the +elder classes. At cricket or football, swimming or boating, George had +few superiors; and as he was one of those boys who seem determined, +whatever they do, to do it with all their might, he went heart and soul +into all the spoils with such a zest and earnestness that he acquired +the name of the "Indefatigable." Nor did this name merely apply to his +zeal in sports. There was not in the whole school a more diligent +student than George: there was for him "a time to work and a time to +play," and he never allowed one to trespass upon the other. He would +rather go without a game at cricket for a fortnight than be behindhand +in one of his lessons. The boys would laugh at him for this, but George +could bear to be laughed at on such points, because he knew he was in +the right. "I came to school to learn," he would say, "and I don't see +any fun in making my parents pay heavy fees for me every year to play +cricket at the expense of study." Every boy knew there was wisdom in +this, and they secretly admired George for it, although it condemned +their own conduct, more especially when they had to go to him not +unfrequently, and say, "Weston, I shall get in a scrape with these +lessons to-morrow, unless you can help me a bit with them. Do give me a +leg up, that's a good fellow!" and though George never said "No," he did +sometimes take an opportunity to say, "If you did not waste so much time +in play, you might be independent of any help that I can give." + +It was a source of great pleasure to his parents to hear from time to +time, through Dr. Seaward, some good account of his conduct; and when he +returned home at the holiday seasons, generally laden with prizes which +he had victoriously borne off, they did not feel a little proud of their +only son. + +George remained at the school at Folkestone for five years, during which +time he rose from the lowest to the highest form. It was the intention +of his parents then to place him in a college for a year or two, in +order to give him in opportunity to complete his education, and have the +means to make a good start in life. But this purpose was frustrated by +an event which happened only a month before George was to have been +removed. + +One day, when all the boys were out in the playfield, busily engaged in +marking out boundaries for a game at hockey, Dr. Seaward was seen coming +from the house towards the field. This was an unusual event, as he +rarely interfered with them during play hours. "Something's up," said +the boys; and waited expectantly until the Doctor came up to them. + +"Call George Weston," said he; "I want to speak to him." + +"Weston! George Weston!" shouted one or two at once; and George came +running up, nothing abashed, for he knew he had done nothing wrong. + +"George," said the Doctor, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to +come with me; I have something to tell you;" and they walked together +away from the field. + +"What is it, sir? You look pained: I hope I have done nothing to offend +you?" + +"No, George," replied the Doctor; "few lads have ever given me so little +cause of offence at any time as you have. But I _am_ pained. I have some +sad news to tell you." + +"Sad news for me, sir? Oh, do tell me at once. Is anything the matter at +home?" + +"Yes, George; a messenger has just arrived to say that your father has +met with a serious accident; he has been thrown from his chaise, and is +much hurt. The messenger is your uncle, Mr. Brunton; and he desires you +to return at once to London with him." + +George waited to hear no more; he bounded away from the Doctor, cleared +the fence which enclosed the garden at a leap, and rushed into the room +where Mr. Brunton was anxiously awaiting him. No tear stood in his eye; +but he was dreadfully pale, and his hands trembled like aspen leaves. +"Oh, uncle!" was all he could say; and, throwing himself into a chair, +he covered his face with his hands. + +"Come, George, my boy," said Mr. Brunton, tenderly; "do not give way to +distress. Your poor father is seriously hurt, but he is yet alive. We +have just half an hour to catch the train." + +That was enough for George; in a moment he was calm and collected, ran +up to his room to make a few hasty arrangements, and in five minutes was +again with his uncle prepared for the journey. + +"Good-bye, Dr. Seaward," he said as he left the house. + +"God bless you, my young friend," said the kind-hearted Doctor; "and +grant that you may find His providence better than your fears." + +George thought he had never known the train go so slowly as it did +during that long, wearisome journey to London. At last it arrived at +the terminus, and then, jumping into a cab, they were hurried away +towards Stamford Hill as quickly as the horse could travel. + +"Now, George," said Mr. Brunton, as they came near their journey's end, +"we know not what may have happened while we have been coming here. Be a +man, and recollect there is one who suffers more than you." + +"Do not fear, uncle. I will not add to my mother's grief," was all he +could reply. + +We will not pry into that interview between mother and son when they +first met; there is a grief too solemn for a stranger's eye. + +Mr. Weston was still alive, and that was all that could be said. The +doctors had pronounced his case beyond human skill, and had intimated +that there were but a few hours for him on earth. + +As George stood beside the bed of his dying father, the tears which had +been long pent up came pouring thick and fast down his cheek. + +"Don't give way to sorrow, George," said his father, in a low voice, for +he had difficulty in speaking; "it will be only a little while before we +meet again; for what is life but a vapour, which soon vanisheth away?" + +"Oh, father, it is so sudden, so sudden!" sobbed George. + +"Therefore, my boy, remember that at all times there is but a step +between us and death; and if for us to live is Christ, then to die is +gain. Make that your motto through life, my dear boy, 'For me to live is +Christ.'" + +That night the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken, and +the spirit of Mr. Weston returned to God who gave it. "Precious in the +eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints." + +Never did a mother more realize the joy of possessing the unbounded love +of an affectionate son, than did Mrs. Weston during those melancholy +days between the death and the funeral of her husband, "Cheer up, dear +mother," he would say; "God is the father of the fatherless, and the +husband of the widow, and did not _He_ say 'to die is gain'?" + +George and Mr. Brunton followed the remains of the good man to their +last resting-place; and then the body was lowered to the grave "in the +sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection." + +Mr. Weston had not been a rich man, nor had he been a far-seeing, +provident man. He had moved in comfortable circumstances, with an income +only sufficient to pay his way in the world, and had made but scanty +provision for the future. At the time of his sudden death, his affairs +were in anything but a satisfactory state; and it was found that it +would be impossible for his widow to live in the same comfortable style +she had formerly done. + +After all his accounts were wound up, it was seen that she would only +have a sufficient sum of money, even if invested in the best possible +manner, to keep her in humble circumstances. She determined therefore to +leave her house at Stamford Hill, and take a smaller one in Islington, +and let some of the rooms to boarders. + +Mr. Brunton acted the part of a kind brother in all her difficulties; he +was never wearied in advising her, and on him principally devolved all +the necessary arrangements for her removal. Everything he did was with +such delicacy and refinement that, although his hand was daily and +hourly felt, it was never seen. + +One evening, shortly before leaving the locality in which they had lived +so many years, George and his mother walked together to the cemetery +where Mr. Weston had been buried, to pay a farewell visit to that +hallowed spot. They had been too much reduced in circumstances to have a +stone placed over the grave where he lay, and they were talking about it +as they journeyed along, saying, how the very first money they could +afford should be expended for that purpose. What was their surprise to +find a handsome stone raised above the spot, bearing these words:-- + + _Sacred to the Memory of_ + MR. GEORGE WESTON, + Who departed this life, Feb. 18th, 18--, aged 46 years. + + * * * * * + + "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." + +Tears of grateful joy stood in their eyes as they recognized another +token of the kind, tender love of Mr. Brunton. + +The bereavement and change of fortune were borne by the widow with that +fortitude which is only shown by the true Christian. It was hard, very +hard, to begin the world again; to be denied the pleasure of allowing +George to go to college and complete his studies; and to bear the +struggles and inconveniences of poverty. But Mrs. Weston knew that vain +regrets would never alter the case; the Lord had given, the Lord had +taken away, and from her heart she could say cheerfully, "Blessed be +the name of the Lord." + +George had not been idle. Every hour in which he was not occupied for or +with his mother, he was diligently engaged in prosecuting his studies, +and preparing himself for the time when he should be able to procure a +situation. Mr. Brunton had not been anxious for him to enter upon one at +once; he knew how lonely the widow would be without her son, and +therefore he did not take any steps to obtain for George a situation. +But when a twelvemonth had passed, and the keenness of sorrow had worn +off, he mentioned the matter to his friend Mr. Compton; with what +success we have seen in the first chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +STARTING WELL. + + +Never did days drag along more heavily than those which elapsed between +the interview with Mr. Compton, and the morning when George was to enter +upon his new duties. Every day the office was a subject of much +conversation; and neither George nor his mother ever seemed to weary in +talking over his plans and purposes. George wrote a long letter to Mr. +Brunton, telling him of the successful issue of his application to Mr. +Compton, and thanking him in the most hearty way for all his kindness. +The next day Mr. Brunton replied to George's letter as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR NEPHEW, + + "I am delighted to hear that you have obtained an appointment, and + that you seem so well satisfied with your prospects. May you find it + to be for your good in every way. Remember, you are going into new + scenes, and will be surrounded with many dangers and temptations to + which you have hitherto been a stranger. Seek to be strong against + everything that is evil; aim at the highest mark, and press towards + it. Much of your future depends upon how you begin--therefore begin + well; hold yourself aloof from everything with which your conscience + tells you you should not be associated, and then all your bright + dreams may, I hope, be fully realized. + + "I shall hope to be with you for an hour or two on Sunday evening. + + "You will have some unavoidable expenses to incur before entering + upon your duties, and will require a little pocket-money. Accept the + enclosed cheque, with the love of + + "Your affectionate Uncle, + + "HENRY BRUNTON." + +George's eyes sparkled with delight as he read the letter; and found the +enclosure to be a cheque for five pounds. This was a great treasure and +relief to him, for he had thought many times about his boots, which were +down at heel, and his best coat, which shone a good deal about the +elbows, and showed symptoms of decay in the neighbourhood of the +button-holes. + +A new suit of clothes and a pair of boots were therefore purchased at +once, and when Sunday morning came, and George dressed himself in them, +and stood ready to accompany his mother to the house of God, she thought +(although, of course, she did not say so) that she had never seen a more +handsome and gentlemanly-looking youth than her son. + +"Mother," said George, as they walked along, "what a treat the Sunday +will always be now, after being pent up in the office all the week. I +shall look forward to it with such pleasure, not only for the sake of +its rest, but because I shall have a whole day with you." + +"The Sabbath is, indeed, a boon," replied Mrs. Weston, "when it is made +a rest-day for the soul, as well as for the body. You remember those +lines I taught you, when you were quite another fellow, before you went +to school, do you not?-- + + "'A Sunday well spent brings a week of content + And health for the toils of the morrow; + But a Sabbath profaned, whatsoe'er may be gained, + Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'" + +"Yes, mother, I remember them; and capital lines they are. Dr. Seaward +once said, 'Strike the key-note of your tune incorrectly, and the whole +song will be inharmonious;' so, if the Sabbath is improperly spent, the +week will generally be like it." + +That morning the preacher took for his text the beautiful words in +Isaiah xli. 10, "Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed, for +I am thy God: I will strengthen thee--yea, I will help thee yea, I will +uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." These words came +like the sound of heavenly music into the soul of the widow; and she +prayed, with the fervency a mother alone can pray for a beloved and only +son, that the time might speedily come when he would be able to +appropriate these words, and realize, in the true sense of the term, God +as his Father. For George, although he had from early infancy been +brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and had learnt to +love holiness from so constantly seeing its beauty exemplified by his +parents, had not yet undergone that one great change which creates the +soul anew in Christ Jesus. + +Mr. Brunton arrived in the evening, just as Mrs. Weston and George were +starting out to the second service, and so they all went together to the +same place. The minister, an excellent man, who felt the responsibility +of his office, and took every opportunity of doing good, was in the +habit of giving four sermons a year especially to young men, and it so +happened that on this evening one of these discourses was to be +delivered. Nothing could have been more appropriate to a young man just +starting out in life than his address. The text was taken from those +solemn, striking words of the wise man, "My son, if sinners entice +thee, consent thou not." + +He spoke of the powerful influences continually at work to allure young +travellers along life's journey into the snares and pitfalls of sin, and +pointed to God's armoury, and the refuge from all the wiles of the +adversary. + +As the trio sat round the supper-table that evening, discussing the +events of the day, George said-- + +"I feel very glad that this Sunday has come before I go to Mr. +Compton's. I thought, when the text was given out this evening, that the +minister had prepared his sermon especially for me. I have no doubt all +he said was quite true; and so, being prepared, I shall be able to be on +my guard against the evils which he says are common to those who make +their first start in life." + +When Mr. Brunton rose to leave that night, he took George aside; and, +laying his hand on his shoulder, said-- + +"George, I am glad you have got your appointment, my boy; but I am +sorry, for some reasons, that it is in Mr. Compton's office, for I have +made inquiries about the clerks there, and I regret to find that they +are not the set of young men I should have liked you to be with. Now, I +want you to make me a promise. If ever you are placed in critical +circumstances, or dangers, or difficulties (I say _if_, because I do not +know why you should, but _if_ you are), be sure and come to me. Tell me, +as you always have done, honestly and openly, your difficulty, and you +will always find in me one willing to advise and assist you. Will you +promise?" + +"With all my heart I will, uncle; and thank you, too, for this, and all +your interests on my account." + +"Good-bye, then, George. Go on and prosper; and God bless you." + +Punctually at nine o'clock on Monday morning, George was at the office. +Mr. Sanders, the manager (the old gentleman whom George had seen on his +first visit), introduced him to the clerks by saying-- + +"This is Mr. George Weston, our new junior;" and George, with his face +all aglow, made a general bow in return to the salutations which were +given him. + +"This is to be your seat," said Mr. Sanders; "and that peg is for your +hat. And now, as you would, no doubt, like to begin at once, here is a +document I want copied." + +George was glad to have something to do; he felt all eyes were upon him, +and the whispered voices of the clerks rather grated upon his ears. He +took up his pen, and began to write; but he found his hand shaky, and he +was so confused that, after he had written half a page, and found he had +made two or three blunders, he was obliged to take a fresh sheet, and +begin again. + +"Take your time," said Mr. Sanders, who noticed his dilemma; "you will +get on right enough by-and-bye, when you are more accustomed to the +place and the work." + +George felt relieved by this; and making up his mind to try and forget +all around him, he set to work busily again, and in an hour or two had +finished the job. + +"I have done this, sir," he said, taking it to Mr. Sanders. "What shall +I do next?" + +"We will just examine it, and then you may take it into Mr. Compton's +room. After that you can go and get your dinner, and be back again in an +hour." + +The document was examined, and, to the surprise of George and Mr. +Sanders, not one mistake was found. "Come, this is beginning well," said +the manager; "we shall soon make a clerk of you, I see." + +When George went into Mr. Compton's room, and presented the papers, he +was again rewarded with an encouraging commendation. "This is very well +written--very well written indeed, and shows great painstaking," he +said. + +George felt he could have shaken hands with both principal and manager +for those few words. "How cheap a kind word is," he thought, "to those +who give it; but it is more precious than gold to the receiver. I like +these two men; and, if I can manage it, they shall like me too." + +George had not as yet exchanged a word with any of the clerks; but as he +was leaving the office to go to dinner, one of them was going out at the +same time, on the same errand. + +"Well, Mr. Weston, you find it precious dull, don't you, cooped up in +your den?" + +"Do you mean the office?" said George. + +"Yes; what else should I mean?" + +"It seems a comfortable office enough," said George, "and not +particularly dull; but I have not had sufficient experience in it to +judge." + +"You see, that old ogre (I beg his pardon, I mean old Sanders) takes +jolly good care there shall be no flinching from work while he's there, +and it makes a fellow deuced tired, pegging away all day long." + +"If this is a specimen of the clerks," thought George, "Uncle Brunton +was not far wrong when he said they were not a very good set." + +"From what I have seen of Mr. Sanders," he said, "I think him a very +nice man! and as for work, I always thought that was what clerks were +engaged to do, and therefore it is their duty to do it, whether under +the eye of the manager or not." + +George got this sentence out with some difficulty. He felt it was an +aggressive step, and did not doubt it would go the round of the office +as a tale against him. + +"Ugh!" said the clerk; "you've got a thing or two to learn yet, I see. +You must surely be fresh and green from the country; but such notions +soon die out. I don't like to be personal though, so we'll change the +subject. Where are you going to dine? Most of our chaps patronize the +King's Head--first-rate place; get anything you like in two twinklings +of a lamb's tail. I'm going there now; will you go? By the way, I should +have told you before this that my name is Williams." + +"I suppose, Mr. Williams,' the King's Head is a tavern? If so, I prefer +a coffee-house; but thank you, notwithstanding, for your offer." + +"By George! that's a rum start. Our chaps all hate coffee-shops, with +the exception of young Hardy, and he's coming round to our tastes now. +You can get a good feed at the King's Head--stunning tackle in the shape +of beer, and meet a decent set of fellows who know how to crack a joke +at table; whereas, if you go to a coffee-shop, you have an ugly slice of +meat set before you, a jorum of tea leaves and water, or some other +mess, and a disagreeable set of people around. Now, which is best?" + +"Your description is certainly unfavourable in the latter case; but I do +not suppose all coffeehouses are alike, and therefore I shall try one +to-day. Good morning." + +George soon found a nice-looking quiet place where he could dine, and +felt sure he had no need to go to taverns for better accommodation. + +When he returned to the office, at two o'clock, Mr. Sanders was absent, +and the clerks were busily engaged, not at work, but in conversation. +Mr. Williams was the principal speaker, and seemed to have something +very choice to communicate. George made no doubt that he was the subject +of conversation, for he had caught one or two words as he entered, which +warranted the supposition. He had nothing to do until Mr. Sanders +returned; this was an opportunity, therefore, for Mr. Williams to make +himself officious. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, "allow me to do the honours of the office by +introducing you, in a more definite manner than that old ----, I mean +than Mr. Sanders did this morning. This gentleman is Mr. Lawson, this is +Mr. Allwood, this is Mr. Malcolm, and this my young friend, Mr. Charles +Hardy, who is of a serious turn of mind, and is meditating entering the +ministry, or the undertaking line." + +A laugh at Hardy's expense was the result of this attempt at jocularity +on the part of Mr. Williams. George hardly knew how to acknowledge these +introductions; but, turning to Charles Hardy, he said,-- + +"As Mr. Williams has so candidly mentioned your qualities, Mr. Hardy, +perhaps you will favour me with a description of his." + +Hardy rose from his seat, for up to this time he had been engaged in +writing, and, in a tone of mock gravity, replied, + +"This is Mr. Williams, who lives at the antipodes of everything that is +quiet or serious, whose mission to the earth seems expressly to turn +everything he touches into a laugh. He is not a 'youth to fortune and +to fame unknown,' for in the archives of the King's Head his name is +emblazoned in imperishable characters." + +"Well said, Hardy!" said one or two at once. "Now, Williams, you are on +your mettle, old boy; stand true to your colours, and transmute the +sentence into a joke in self-defence." + +Williams was on the point of replying when Mr. Sanders entered. In an +instant all the clerks pretended to be up to their eyes in business; +each had his book or papers to hand as if by magic; whether upside down +or not was immaterial. + +But George Weston stood where he was; he could not condescend to so mean +an imposition, and he felt pleased to see that Charles Hardy, unlike the +others, made no attempt to hide the fact that he had been engaged in +conversation, instead of continuing at his work. + +At six o'clock the day's duties were over; and George felt not a little +pleased when the hour struck, and Mr. Sanders told him he could go. +Hardy was leaving just at the same time, and so they went out together. + +"Are you going anywhere in my direction?" said Hardy; "I live at +Canonbury." + +"Indeed!" replied George; "I'm glad to hear that, for I live at +Islington, close by you. If you are willing, we will bear one another +company, for I want to ask you one or two questions;" and taking Hardy's +arm, the two strolled homewards together. + +Now George would never have thought of walking arm in-arm with Mr. +Williams, or any of the other clerks; but, from the first time he saw +Hardy, and noticed his quiet, gentlemanly manners, he felt sure he +should like him. Hardy, too, had evidently taken a fancy to George; and +therefore both felt pleased that accident had brought them together. +Accident? No, that is a wrong word; whenever a heart feels that there is +another heart beating like its own, and those two hearts go out one +towards the other, until they become knit together in the bonds of +friendship, there is something more than accident in that. + +"How long have you been in Mr. Compton's office?" said George, as they +walked along, + +"Nearly two years," he replied; "I went there as soon as I left school. +I was then about seventeen years old; and there I have been ever since." + +"Then you are my senior by two years," said George. "I left school a +year ago, and this is my first situation. How do you like the office?" + +"Do you mean my particular seat, the clerks, or the duties, or all +combined?" + +"I should like to know how you like the whole combined." + +"I prefer my desk to yours, because I sit next to Mr. Malcolm, who is +one of the steadiest and most respectable clerks in the office; and +therefore I am not subject to so much annoyance as you will be, seated +next to that empty-headed Williams, and coarse low-minded Lawson. I do +not really like any of the clerks; there are none of them the sort of +young men I should choose as companions. As to the duties, they are +agreeable enough, and I have nothing to find fault with on that score." + +"I tell you candidly," said George, "I am not prepossessed in favour of +the clerks; they are far too 'fast' a set to please me; but I am very +glad, for my own sake, that you are in the office, Mr. Hardy." + +"Why?" + +"Because, although we are almost strangers at present, I know I shall +find in you some one who will be companionable. You don't seem very +thick with the others; you don't join with them in that mean practice of +shirking work directly Mr. Sanders's back is turned; and you don't, from +what I have heard, approve of the society at the King's Head, in which +the others seem to take so much delight. Now, in these points, I think, +our tastes are similar." + +"Ah! Mr. Weston," said Hardy, "you will find, as I have done, that +amongst such a set we are obliged to allow a great many things we do not +approve. But I'm very glad you have come amongst us; unity is strength, +you know, and two can make a better opposition than one. Now, will you +let me give you a hint?" + +"Certainly," said George. + +"Be on your guard with Lawson and Williams; they are two dangerous young +men, and can do no end of mischief, because they are double-faced--sneaking +sometimes, and bullying at others. I don't know whether you have heard +that you are filling a vacancy caused by one of our clerks leaving the +office in disgrace. It is not worth while my telling you the story now, +but that poor chap would never have left in the way he did, had it not +been for Lawson and Williams." + +"Many thanks, Mr. Hardy, for your information and advice, upon which I +will endeavour to act. And now, as our roads lay differently, we must +say good evening." + +"Adieu, then, till to-morrow," said Hardy. "By-the-bye, I pass this +road in the morning, at half-past eight; if you are here we will walk to +the office together." + +It took George the whole of the evening to give his mother a full +account of the day's proceedings; there were so many questions to ask on +her part, and so many descriptions to give on his, and such a number of +events occurred during the day, that it seemed as if he had at least a +week's experience to narrate. + +"I like Hardy, mother," said George, once or twice during the evening; +"he is such a thorough open-hearted fellow, and I know we shall get +along together capitally." + +"I hope so, my boy," said his mother; "but be very careful how you form +any other friendships." + +When Mrs. Western retired to her room for the night, it was not to +sleep. She felt anxious and uneasy about George; she thought of him as +the loving, gentle child, the merry, light-hearted boy, and the manly, +conscientious youth. Then she thought of the future. How would he stand +against the evil influences surrounding him? Would his frank, ingenuous +manner change, and the confidence he always reposed in her cease? Would +he be led away by the gay and thoughtless young men with whom he would +be associated? + +Tears gathered in the widow's eyes, and many a sigh sounded in that +quiet room; but Mrs. Weston had a Friend at hand, to whom she could go +and pour out all her anxieties. She would cast her burden on Him, for +she knew He cared for her. As she knelt before the mercy-seat, these +were her prayers:-- + +"Lord, create in him a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within him. +May he remember Thee in the days of his youth. Heavenly Father, lead him +not into temptation, but deliver him from evil Guide him by Thy counsel, +and lead him in the paths of righteousness, for Thy Name's sake." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW. + + +Six months passed rapidly away. George continued to give satisfaction to +Mr. Compton, soon learnt the office routine, and earned the warmest +expressions of approbation from Mr. Sanders, who said he was the best +junior clerk he ever remembered to have entered that office. + +George had carefully guarded against forming any kind of intimacy with +the other clerks; he had declined to have more to say to them during +office hours than possible, and when business was over he purposely +shunned them. But a strong friendship had sprung up between him and +Charles Hardy; every morning they came to the city together, and +returned in company in the evening. Sometimes George would spend an +evening at the house of Hardy's parents, and Hardy, in like manner, +would occasionally spend an evening with George. + +Williams and Lawson had, as Hardy predicted, been a source of great +annoyance to George. He was constantly obliged to bear their ridicule +because he would not conform to their habits, and sometimes the insults +he received were almost beyond his power of endurance. He and Hardy +received the name of the "Siamese youths," and were generally greeted +with such salutations as "How d'ye do? Is mamma pretty well?"--or +something equally galling. But George bore it all with exemplary +patience, and he did not doubt that after a while they would grow tired +of annoying him. At all events, he felt certain some new policy would be +adopted by them; for he had so risen in the estimation of his employer, +who began to repose confidence in him, and entrust him with more +important matters than he allowed the others to interfere with, that +George anticipated the time when the clerks would either be glad to +curry favour with him, or at least have to acknowledge that he was +regarded more highly than they were. + +So matters went on. Mrs. Weston was full of joy as she saw how well +George had kept his resolutions, and full of hope that he would continue +as he had begun. + +Mr. Brunton had given him many kind encouragements during this time, and +had felt himself well rewarded for all his trouble on George's behalf +by hearing from Mr. Compton of the satisfaction his services had given. + +And now an event occurred, simple and unimportant in itself, and yet it +was one that affected the whole of George's after-life. + +One evening, as he was leaving the office, and had just turned into +Fleet-street, a nice-looking, fashionably-dressed young man came running +up, and, clapping him on the shoulder, exclaimed, + +"What! George Weston, my old pippin, who ever thought of turning you up +in London!" + +"Harry Ashton! my old school-chum, how are you?" and the two friends +shook hands with a heartiness that surprised the passers-by. + +"Where ever have you been to, all these long years, George?" said Aston; +"only fancy, we have never seen each other since that day we were +playing hockey at dear old Dr. Seaward's, and you were hastily called +away to London. The Doctor told us the sad news, and we all felt for you +deeply, old fellow; in fact I never recollect the place having been so +gloomy before or since." + +"It was a sad time for me," said George; "and after that I lived at home +for a twelvemonth. Then I got an appointment in an office in +Falcon-court, and have held it just six months. Now, tell me where you +have sprung from, and where you have been since I last saw you?" + +"I stayed only six months longer at Dr. Seaward's and was then articled +to a surveyor in the Strand, with whom I have been nearly a year, and +now I am bound for my lodgings, and you must come with me." + +"You had better come with me," said George; "my mother will be so +pleased to welcome an old school-fellow of mine, and she is not +altogether a stranger to you." + +"Thank you, old fellow," replied Ashton; "I shall be very glad to accept +your invitation some other night; but, after our long separation, we +want to have a quiet, confidential chat over old times together, and I +must introduce you to my crib. I am a bachelor--all alone in my glory. +The old folks still live in the country, and I boarded at first in a +family; but that that was terribly slow work, and since that time I have +hung out on my own hook. So come along, George; I really can't hear any +excuse." + +George hesitated only a moment; he had never spent an evening from home +without first acquainting his mother; but this was an unusual event, +and he was so anxious to hear about Dr. Seaward, and talk over old +school days, the temptation was irresistible. + +Harry Ashton called a cab, much to George's surprise, into which they +jumped; and were not very long in getting into the Clapham road, where +they alighted before a large, nice looking house. + +"This is the crib," said Ashton, as he ushered George into a large +parlour, handsomely furnished with everything contributing to comfort +and amusement. "Now, make yourself at home. Here are some cigars +(producing a box of Havannahs), and here (opening a cellaret) is bottled +beer and wine; which shall it be?" + +"As to smoking, that is a bad habit, or an art (which you like) I have +never yet practised," said George; "but I will join you in a glass of +wine just to toast 'Dr. Seaward and our absent friends in the school.'" + +Then the two school friends fell into conversation. Many and many a +happy recollection came into their minds, and one long yarn was but the +preface to another. + +"Come, George, fill up your glass," said Ashton repeatedly; but George +declined. + +Two or three hours slipped rapidly away, and then George rose to leave. +"Not a bit of it, George," said Ashton; "we must have some supper and +discuss present times yet. I have not heard particulars of what you are +doing, or how you are getting on, and you only know I'm here, without +any of the history about it." + +So George yielded: how could he help it? Harry Ashton had become his +bosom-chum during the five years he had been at school, and all the old +happy memories of those days were again fresh upon him. + +"Now, George, tell your story first, and then mine shall follow." Then +George narrated all the leading circumstances which had attended his +life, from the time he left school up to that very evening, and a long +story it was. + +"Now," said Ashton, "for mine. When you left Folkestone I got up to your +place at the head of the school, and there I held on till I left. Six +months after you left, the holidays came, and I came up to town. I spent +a few days with Mr. Ralston, an old friend of the family, and one of the +first engineers and surveyors in London. He took a liking to me, offered +to take me into his office, wrote to the governor (I know you don't like +that term, though--I mean my father), proposed a sum as premium, +arrangements were made; and, instead of returning to school, I came to +London and commenced learning the arts and mysteries of a profession. I +had only been with Mr. Ralston two or three months, when one morning my +father came into the office, out of wind with excitement, and said, +'Harry, I have got sad and joyful, and wonderful news for you! Poor old +Mr. Cornish is dead; the will has been opened, and--make up your mind +for a surprise--the bulk of his property is left to you.' I was +thunderstruck. I knew the old gentleman would leave me something, but I +did not know that he had quarrelled with his relatives, and therefore +appropriated to me the share originally intended for them. So, you see, +I have stepped into luck's way. I am allowed an income now which amounts +to something like two hundred a year, as I shall not come into my rights +till I am twenty-one, and how I am not nineteen; so I have a long time +to wait, you see, which is rather annoying. I took this crib, and have +managed to enjoy my existence pretty well, I can assure you. Sometimes I +run down into the country to spend a week or two with the old folks, and +sometimes they come up and see me." + +"Don't you find it rather dull, living here alone, though?" said George. + +"Dull? far from it. I have a good large circle of friends, who like to +come round here and spend a quiet evening; and there are no end of +amusements in this great city, so that no one need never be dull. +Besides, if I am alone, I am not without friends, you see,"--pointing to +a well-stocked book case. + +"I have been running my eye over them, Harry. There are some very nice +books; but your tastes are changed since I knew you last, or you would +never waste your time over all this lot here which seem to have been +best used. I mean the 'Wandering Jew,' 'Ernest Maltravers,' and the +like." + +"I won't attempt to defend myself, George; but when I was at school, I +did as school-boys did: now I have come to London, I do as the Londoners +do. I know there is an absence of anything like reason in this, but I am +not much thrown amongst reasoners. But, to change the subject; now you +have found me out, George, I do hope you will very often chum with me. I +shall enjoy going about with you better than with anybody else; and as +we know one another so well, we shall soon have tastes and habits in +common again, as we used to have." + +Presently the clock struck. George started up in surprise. "What! +twelve o'clock! impossible. It never can be so late as that?" + +"It is, though," said Ashton, "but what of that? you don't surely call +twelve o'clock bad hours for once in a way?" + +"No, not for once in a way," replied George; "but I have never kept my +mother up so late before. Good-bye, old fellow. Promise to come and see +me some night this week. There is my address." And so saying, George ran +out into the street and made his way towards Islington. + +That was an anxious night for Mrs. Weston. "What can have happened?" she +asked herself a hundred times. Fortunately, Mr. Brunton called, and he +assisted to while away the time. + +"George does not often stay out of an evening, does he?" he asked. + +"No, never," replied Mrs. Weston; "unless it is with his friend, Charles +Hardy, and then I always know where they are, and what they are doing. +But something extraordinary must have happened to-night, and I feel very +anxious to know what it is. Not that I think he is anywhere he ought not +to be. I feel sure he is not," continued Mrs. Weston confidently; "but +what it is that has detained him, I am altogether at a loss to guess." + +"Well, I will not leave you till he comes home," said Mr. Brunton. + +It was one o'clock before George arrived; it was too late to get an +omnibus, and a cab, he thought, was altogether out of the question; +therefore he had to walk the whole distance--or rather run, for he was +as anxious now to get home as they were to see him. + +He was very much surprised, and, if it must be confessed, rather vexed +on some accounts, to find Mr. Brunton waiting up for him with his +mother. + +His explanation of what had happened, told in his merry, ingenuous way, +at once dissipated any anxiety they had felt. + +"I recollect Harry Ashton well," said Mrs. Weston. "Dr. Seaward pointed +him out to me, the first time I went to see you at Folkestone, as being +one of his best scholars; and he came home once with you in the holidays +to spend a day or two with us, did he not?" + +"That is the same, mother, and a better-hearted fellow it would be hard +to find." + +"There is only one disadvantage that I see in your having him as an +intimate friend," said Uncle Brunton, "and that is, he is now very +differently situated in position to you as regards wealth, and you +might find him a companion more liable to lead you into expense than any +of your other friends, because I know what a proud fellow you are, +George," he said, laughingly, "you like to do as your friends do, and +would not let them incur expense on your account unless you could return +their compliment. But I will not commence a moral discourse to-night--it +is time all good folks should be in bed." + +All the next day George was thinking over the events of the previous +evening; he was pleased to have found out Harry Ashton, and thought he +would be just the young man he wanted for a companion. Then he compared +their different modes of life--Ashton living in luxuriant circumstances, +without anybody or anything to interfere with his enjoyment, and he, +obliged to live very humbly and carefully in order to make both ends +meet; and then came a new feeling, that of restraint. + +"There is Ashton," he thought, "can go out when he likes and where he +likes, without its being necessary to say where he is going or what he +is going to do, and he can come in at night without being obliged to +account for all his actions like a child. If I happen to stay out, there +is Uncle Brunton and my mother in a great state of excitement about me, +which I don't think is right. I really do not wonder that the clerks +have made me a laughing-stock. All this while I have lived in London I +have seen nothing; have not been to any of the places of amusement; and +have not been a bit like the young men with whom I get thrown into +contact. I think Ashton is right, after all, in saying that when he was +at school he did as school-boys did, and when he came to London he did +as the Londoners do. Far be it from me to be undutiful to those who care +for me; but I think, as a young man, I do owe a duty to myself, +different altogether from that which belonged to me as a schoolboy." + +These were all new thoughts to George: he had never felt or even thought +of restraint before; he had never even expressed a wish to do as other +young men did, in wasting precious time on useless amusements; he had +always looked forward to an evening at home with pleasure, and had never +felt the least inclination to wander forth in search of recreation +elsewhere. Nay, he had always condemned it; and when Lawson or Williams, +or any of the other clerks, had proposed such a thing to him, he never +minded bearing their ridicule in declining. + +And here was George's danger. He was upon his guard with his +fellow-clerks, and was able to keep his resolution not to adopt their +ideas, nor fall into their ways and habits; but when those very evils he +condemned in them were presented to him in a different form by Harry +Ashton, his old friend and school-fellow--leaving the principle the +same, and only the practice a little altered--he was off his guard; and +the habits he regarded with dislike in Williams and Lawson, he was +beginning secretly to admire in Ashton. + +As he walked home that evening with Hardy he gave him a long description +of his meeting with Ashton, and all that happened during his interview +and upon his return home. + +"Now, Hardy," said George, "which do you think is really +preferable--Harry Ashton's life or ours? We never go out anywhere; and, +for the matter of that, might as well be living in monasteries, as far +as knowing what is going on in the world is concerned." + +"For my own part, Weston," said Hardy, "I would rather be as I am. Your +friend is surrounded with infinitely greater temptations than we are, +from the fact of his living as he does without any control. He is +evidently free from his parents, and although he is old enough to take +care of himself, still there is a certain restraint felt under a +parent's roof which is very desirable." + +"Quite true," said George; "but that involves a point which has been +perplexing me all day. Should we, after we have arrived at a certain +age, acknowledge a parent's control as we did when we were mere +school-boys? I do not mean are we to cease to honour them, because that +we cannot do while God's commandment lasts; but are we, as Williams +says, always to go in leading-strings, or are we at liberty to think and +act for ourselves?" + +"That depends a good deal on the way in which we wish to think and act. +For instance, my parents object to Sunday travelling and Sunday +visiting. Now, while I am living with them, I feel it would not be right +for me to do either of these things--even though as a matter of +principle I might not see any positive wrong in them--because it would +bring me into opposition with my parents. So, in spending evenings away +from home, I know it would be contrary to their wish, and it is right to +try and prevent our opinions clashing." + +"I agree with you, partly, Hardy; but only partly. We must study our +parents' opinions in the main, but not in points of detail. Suppose I +want to attend a course of lectures, for example, which would take me +from home sometimes in the evening; and my mother objects to my spending +evenings from home, although the study might be advantageous to me--then +I think I should be at liberty to adhere to my own opinion; if not, I +should be under the same restraint I was as a child. It is right and +natural that parents should feel desirous to know what associations +their sons are forming, and what are their habits, and all that sort of +thing; but I am inclined to think it is not right for a parent to +exercise so strong a control as to say, 'So-and-so shall be your +companion;' and, 'You may go to this place, but you may not go to +that.'" + +"Well, Weston, your digestion must be out of order, or you are a little +bilious, or something; for I never heard you talk like this before. I +have told you, confidentially sometimes, that I have wanted to rebel +against the wishes of my parents on some points, and you have always +counselled me, like a sage, grey-headed father, to give up my desire. +But now you turn right round, and place me in the position of the +parent, and you the rebellious son. I recommend, therefore, that you +take two pills, for I am sure bile is at the bottom of this; and then I +will feel your pulse upon this point again." + +Mrs. Weston noticed a difference in George that evening. He seemed as +if he had got something upon his mind which was perplexing him. He was +not so cheerful and merry as usual, but his mother attributed it partly +to his late hours, followed by a hard day's work, and therefore she said +nothing to him about it. + +A day or two elapsed, and George was still brooding upon the same +subject. He did not know that the great tempter was weaving a subtle net +around him, to lure him into the broad road which leadeth to +destruction. He tried a hundred times to fight against the strange +influence he felt upon him; but he did not fight with the right weapons, +and therefore he failed. Had the tempter suggested to him that, as he +was a young man, he should do as his fellow-clerks, or even Ashton did, +and have his way in all things, he would have seen the temptation; but +it came altogether in a different way. The evil voice said, "You are +under restraint. Ask any young man of your own age, and he will tell you +so. It is high time you should unloose yourself from apron-strings." And +this idea of restraint was preying upon him, and he could not throw it +off. George was anxious to do the right, but did not know how to fight +against the wrong. Conscience whispered to him, "Do you remember that +motto your dying father gave you, 'For me to live is Christ?'" George +replied, "Yes, I remember it; and it is still my desire to follow it." +Conscience said again, "Do you recollect that sermon you heard, and the +resolutions you made, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou +not?'" And he answered, "I remember it well; but I am not aware that any +are endeavouring to entice me." + +This was the effect of the unconscious influence of Harry Ashton. He had +unknowingly fanned a latent spark into a flame, which, unless checked, +would consume all those high and praiseworthy resolutions which George +had formed, and carefully kept for years. He had cast a shadow over the +landscape of his friend's well-being, which made the sign-posts pointing +"upward and onward" almost indistinct. He had breathed into the +atmosphere a subtle malaria, and George had caught the disease. The +little leaven was now mixed with his life, which would leaven the whole. +The genus of that moral consumption, which, unless cured by the Great +Physician, ends in death, had been sown, and were now taking root. + +George was unconscious of any foreign influence working upon him--he +could not see that Ashton had in any way exerted a power over him; nor +in the new and undefined feelings which had taken possession of him +could he recognise the presence of evil. He had consulted conscience, +and, he fancied, had satisfactorily met the warnings of its voice. + +But he had _not_ gone to that high and sure source of strength which can +alone make a way of escape from all temptations; he had _not_ obtained +that armour of righteousness which is the only defence against the fiery +darts of the wicked one; he had _not_ that faith, in the power of which +alone Satan can be resisted; and therefore his eyes were holden so that +he could not see the snares which the subtle foe was laying around him, +nor could he, in his own strength, bear up against the strong tide which +was threatening to overwhelm him. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A FARCE. + + +Harry Ashton kept his promise, and went one evening that week to see +George at Islington. Hardy had been invited to meet him; and the three +friends, as they kept up a perfect rattle of conversation, interspersed +with many crossfired jokes, made the merriest and happiest little party +that could be imagined. + +Mrs. Weston was very much pleased with Ashton--his refined thought and +gentlemanly address, joined with an open-hearted candour and a fund of +humour which sparkled in every sentence, made it impossible for any one +not to like him. Charles Hardy thought he had never met a more +entertaining companion than Ashton; Ashton thought Hardy was an +intelligent, agreeable fellow; and George declared to his mother that, +if he had had the pick of all the young men in London, he could not have +found two nicer fellows. + +A hundred topics were discoursed upon during the evening, in which +Ashton generally took the lead, and showed himself to be very well +informed on all ordinary subjects. Incidentally the theatre was +mentioned. + +"Have you seen that new piece at the Lyceum?" said Ashton. "It is really +a very capital thing." + +"No," said George. "I have never been to a theatre." + +"Nor I," said Hardy. + +"Nor I," said Mrs. Weston. + +"Well, that is really very extraordinary," said Ashton; "I thought +almost everybody went to a theatre at some time or other. But perhaps +you have some objection?" + +"I have," said Mrs. Weston. "I think there is a great deal of evil +learnt there, and very little good, if any. It is expensive; and it +leads into other bad habits." + +"Those last objections cannot be gainsaid," said Ashton; "but they +equally apply to all amusements, and therefore, by that rule, all +amusements are bad." + +"But not in an equal degree with that of the theatre," George remarked; +"because other amusements do not possess such an infatuation. For my +own part, I should not mind going to a concert; but I very much +disapprove of the theatre, and should never hesitate to decline going +there." + +"Yours is not a good argument, George. You have never been to the +theatre, you say, and yet you disapprove of it. Are you right in +pronouncing such an opinion, which cannot be the result of your own +investigation?" + +"I think I am," replied George; "I can adopt the opinions of those whom +experience has instructed in the matter, and in whom I can rely with +implicit confidence. If a man goes through a dangerous track, and falls +into a bog, I should be willing to admit the track was dangerous, and +avoid the bog, without going in to prove the former traveller was right; +and this applies to going to theatres." + +"No, George; there is your error. There would be no two opinions about +the bog; but suppose you go for a tour to the Pyrenees, and, from +prejudice or some other cause, come back disgusted. You warn me not to +go, telling me I shall be wasting my time, and find nothing interesting +to reward my trouble in the journey. But Hardy goes the same tour, comes +home delighted, and says, 'Go to the Pyrenees by all means; it is a +glorious place, the most pleasant in the whole world for a tour.' To +decide the question, I read two books; one agrees with you, and the +other with Hardy. How can I arrive at an opinion unless I go myself, and +see what it is like? So it is with the theatre: some say it is the great +teacher of morals, others that it is the most wicked and hurtful place. +Therefore I think every one should form his own opinion from his own +experience." + +"You may be right," said George, waveringly. "I am not clear upon the +subject; but I do not think, even if I were to form an opinion in the +way you prescribe, that I should ever choose the theatre as a place of +amusement." + +"Then what is your favourite amusement?" asked Ashton. + +"To come home and read, or spend a social evening with a friend," George +answered. + +"Then I know what will suit you all to pieces," said Ashton; "and your +friend Hardy too. I am a member of a literary institution. It is a +first-rate place--the best in London. There are lectures and classes, +and soirees, a debating society, a good library, and rooms for +chess-playing and that sort of thing. Now, you really must join it; it +will be so very nice for us to have a regular place of meeting; and, +besides that, we can combine study with amusement. What do you say, Mrs. +Weston?" + +"I cannot see any objection to literary institutions," said Mrs. Weston; +"but I have always considered them better suited to young men who are +away from home, than for those who have comfortable homes in which to +spend their evenings. You speak about having a regular place of meeting. +I shall always be very pleased to see you and Mr. Hardy here, as often +as ever you can manage to spend an evening with us." + +"Many thanks for your kindness, Mrs. Weston," returned Ashton; "but it +would not be right for us to trespass on your good nature. Now I will +give you and your friend a challenge, George," he continued. "Next +Monday, the first debate of the season comes off; will you allow me to +introduce you to the institution on that evening?--it is a member's +privilege." + +"I shall be very pleased to join you, then," said George. "What say you, +Hardy?" + +"I accept the invitation, with thanks," replied Hardy. + +On Monday night, as George and Hardy journeyed towards the place of +meeting, they discussed the question of joining the institution. + +"If you will, I will," said Hardy. "My parents do not much like the +idea; but, as you said the other evening, 'we must not allow ourselves +to be controlled like mere children.'" + +"I do think we really require a little recreation after business hours; +and we can obtain none better than that of an intellectual kind, such as +is found at literary institutions. The new term has only just commenced; +so we may as well be enrolled as members at once." + +"I wish the institution was a little nearer home," said Hardy, "for it +will be so late of an evening for us to be out. However, we need not +always attend, nor is it necessary we should very often be late. Have +you had any difficulty in obtaining Mrs. Weston's consent to your +joining?" + +"None at all; she prefers my attending an institution of this kind to +any other, although probably she would be better pleased if I did not +join one at all. But, as Ashton says, we really must live up to the +times, and know something of what is going on in the world around us. +Did you not notice, the other evening, how Ashton could speak upon every +subject brought on the carpet? My mother said, 'What a remarkably +agreeable young man he is! he has evidently seen a good deal of +society;' and I think the two things are inseparable--to be agreeable +in society, one must mix more with it." + +Ashton was punctual to his appointment; and all were at the institution +just as the members were assembling for the debate. George was surprised +to find how many of the young men knew Ashton, and he admired the ease +and elegance of his friend in acknowledging the greetings which met him +on every hand. + +"I won't bore you with introductions to-night," he said, "except to just +half-a-dozen fellows in particular, who, I am sure, you will like to +know; and we can all sit together and compare opinions during the +debate." + +The friends were accordingly introduced; and as the proceedings of the +evening went on, and all waxed warm upon the subject under discussion, +the party which Ashton had drawn together soon became known to one +another, and were on terms of conversational acquaintance. + +The meeting separated at ten o'clock, and then George and Hardy essayed +to bid good-night to their friends, and make their way at once towards +Islington. + +"Nonsense," said Ashton; "I want you to come with me to a nice quiet +place I know, close by, and have a bit of supper and a chat over all +that has been said, and then I will walk part of the way home with you." + +"No, not to-night, Ashton; it is quite late enough already; and it will +be past eleven o'clock before we get home as it is." + +"What say you, Hardy? Can you persuade our sage old friend to abandon +his ten o'clock habits for one night?" asked Ashton. + +"I do not like to establish a bad precedent," said Hardy; "and as we +have to-night joined the institution, I think we should make a rule to +start off home as soon as we leave the meetings, because we have some +distance to go, and bad hours, you know, interfere with business." + +"I did not expect you to make a rule to keep bad hours," said Ashton;" +but every rule has an exception--" + +"And therefore it will not do to commence with the exception; so +good-bye, till we meet again on Wednesday." + +Three nights a-week there was something going on at the institution +sufficiently attractive to draw George and Hardy there. One evening a +lecture, another the discussion class, and the third an elocution class, +or more frequently that was resigned in favour of chess. From meeting +the same young men, night after night, a great number of new +acquaintanceships were formed, and George would never have spent an +evening at home, had he accepted the invitations which were frequently +being given him; but he had made a compact with himself, that he would +never be out more than three evenings a week, and would devote the +remainder to the society of his mother. A certain little voice did +sometimes say to him, "Is it quite right and kind of you, George, to +leave your mother so often? Do you not think it must be rather lonely +for her, sometimes, without you?" And George would answer to the voice, +"Mother would never wish to stand between me and my improvement. +Besides, she has many friends who visit her, and with whom she visits; +and few young men of my age give their mothers more than three evenings +of their society a week." + +One evening, as George and Hardy were entering the institution, Harry +Ashton came up to them, and said,-- + +"I have just had some tickets sent me for the Adelphi. There is nothing +going on here worth staying for, so I shall go. Dixon will make one, and +you and Hardy must make up the quartette." + +"Dixon going?" asked George; "why, I thought he was such a sedate +fellow, and never went to anything of the sort!" + +"Neither does he, as a rule; but he has never been to the Adelphi, and +he wants to go. Will you accompany us?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "I told you once I did not like theatres; +perhaps you recollect we discussed the point one evening?" + +"We did, and you said you had never been to a theatre: you disapproved +of them, without ever having had an opportunity of judging whether they +were good or bad places. Now, take the opportunity." + +"I am not anxious to form a judgment; and I so dislike all the +associations of a theatre that it would be no pleasure for me to go." + +"Complimentary, certainly!" laughed Ashton. "But I will grant you this +much--there are bad associations connected with the theatres, and this +is the stronghold of objectors; but we are four staid sober fellows, we +shall go to our box without any bother, sit and see the play without +exchanging a word with anybody beyond our own party, and then leave as +soon as the performance is over. You had better say you will go, eh?" + +"No, it would be very late before I got home," said George: "and I do +not like keeping my mother up, more particularly as I was so very late +the other evening. But what do you say, Hardy?" + +"I don't know what to say," said Hardy. "I did once say to myself I +would never go to a theatre; but I am not sure that there is any moral +obligation why I should keep my word, when the compact rests only with +myself. I have not time to consult Paley, and so I put the question to +you--Can I go, seeing I have said to myself I will not?" + +"Arrange it in this way," said Ashton; "both of you go, and when you get +there, if you decide you have done wrong, then leave at once; or if you +find that your consciences are in durance vile, and you have not +patience or sufficient interest to stay and see the play out, go, and I +will excuse you then with all my heart; but I won't excuse your not +going. Now is your time to decide; for here comes Dixon, true to his +appointment." + +"I suppose you have got your party complete, Ashton?" he said; "and if +so, we had better start at once, or the play will have begun before we +get there." + +George pondered no longer. "Suppose we try it, Hardy, on Ashton's +plan," said he; "I don't see any harm in that, do you?" + +"No, I think that is the best way in which the case can be put," he +replied; "and I don't see that any harm can possibly come of it." + +Away went the party, full of high spirits, bent upon amusement. But +George felt a certain uneasy something, which tried to make him feel +less pleased with himself than usual, and his laugh was at first forced +and unnatural; there was not the same joyousness there would have been +had he been starting on some recreation which he knew would be approved +by parent and friends, and his own conscience. Ashton noticed he did not +seem to be quite at ease; and therefore he brought all his humour into +play to provoke hilarity. By the time they arrived at the theatre, that +love of novelty and excitement which is so natural to young people +completely overcame all other feelings, and the sight of the crowds +flocking into all parts of the house was now an irresistible temptation +to follow in too. + +They were shown into a very comfortable box, commanding a good view of +the whole of the theatre. The thrilling strains of music issuing from +the orchestra, the dazzling lights, and the large assembly of elegantly +dressed ladies in the boxes, a mass of people in the pit, and tiers of +heads in the galleries, filled George with excitement. He who a little +while before had been the dullest of the party, was now the gayest of +the gay; he was lost in astonishment at all he saw and heard, dazzled +with the brilliancy of the scene, and abandoned to all the enjoyments of +the hour. + +The performances that evening consisted of a farce, the comedy of the +"Serious Family," and a ballet. When the curtain rose, and the farce +commenced, George entered heart and soul into the spirit of the +performance; laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks at the +dilemmas of an unlucky wight who acted a prominent part, and stamped +applause in favour of a young lady who tried in every way to defend this +unfortunate individual from his persecutors. + +When it was over, Ashton turned to George, and said-- + +"Well, Weston, so much for the farce; now, if you think it is +objectionable, off you go, old fellow, and we will forgive you." + +"No," said George; "I think that farce was capital, and I shall stay now +and see the end. I am not surprised people like the theatre--I never +enjoyed a laugh more in my life. But there is one thing I have not +liked. That hero of the piece did not scruple to use language for which +he would have been kicked out of any respectable private house--and yet +there are respectable people here, old and young, all listening and +seeming to enjoy it. That shows there is insincerity somewhere; either +these people hush their sensitive feelings in the playhouse, or they are +hypocrites at home, and profess to be much more refined than they really +are." + +"You evidently don't understand plays yet," said Ashton; "that man +depicts a certain style of life, and he must be true to it. If he enacts +the part of a costermonger, he must swear and talk slang, and commit +crimes, if need be, or anything suiting the character he assumes; or +else the thing would be absurd, and the gentleman and costermonger would +be both alike." + +"The theatre must be a 'great teacher of morals,' then, if we come here +to be initiated into the vices of costermongers," said George, rather +sarcastically. + +"George," whispered Hardy, "we've got into a mess; look down in the +pit--Williams and Lawson are there. They have recognized us, and are +nodding--shall we nod?" + +"Yes," said George, and he nodded; but his face was red as crimson. "I +would not have had Lawson and Williams see us here for the world," he +whispered to Hardy; "but it's too late now--as you say, we've got into a +mess." + +Just then the curtain rose again, and the play of the "Serious Family," +commenced. + +The plot of the piece is this:-- + +Mr. Abinadab Sleek and Lady Creamly are two hypocrites, introduced as +ordinary specimens of Christians. They are living in the house of their +daughter and son-in-law (Mr. and Mrs. Charles Torrens), over whom they +exercise a stern and despotic control. Mr. Charles Torrens, "for the +sake of peace and quietness," agrees to all the solemnities opposed upon +him; and is willing to pass himself off in Christian circles as a +co-worker with Mr. Abinadab Sleek. In his heart he detests everything +like seriousness; and whenever an opportunity occurs, on the pretext of +going into the country, indulges in the gaieties and vices of London +fashionable life. He is visited by an old friend, Captain Murphy +Maguire, who persuades him to renounce boldly the sanctimonious customs +of the "Serious Family," and enjoy with unshackled freedom the pleasures +of the world. To this he consents; but he has not courage to alter the +family customs. Captain Maguire aids his plans by convincing Mrs. C. +Torrens that unless she provides in her home those amusements which are +found in the world, her husband will prefer the world to his home. A +conspiracy is laid to oppose the religious tyranny of Mr. Abinadab +Sleek, the result of which is, that a ball is given by Mr. Torrens, +assisted by his wife, who, throwing off her former profession of +Christianity, becomes a woman of the world. On all this their future +happiness as man and wife is made to hinge; and when, through the flimsy +plot of the piece, the tableau arrives, the curtain drops, leaving the +younger members of the "Serious Family" whirling in the giddy dance, +commencing the new era of domestic happiness. + +Throughout the play, Scripture is quoted and ridiculed, religion is made +contemptible, and vice under the name of "geniality, openheartedness, +and merriment," is made to appear the one thing necessary to constitute +real happiness. + +George followed the play through all its shifting scenes; now laughed, +now sighed, now felt the hot blush of shame as he listened to the +atrocious mockery of everything which, from the time he had been an +infant on his mother's knee, he had been taught to regard as good and +pure. He was heated to indignation when the audience applauded the base +character of Maguire, and shuddered when as he thought that a masked +hypocrite was brought before the world as the type of a Christian, and +that a "Serious Family" was only another name for an unhappy, canting +set of ignorant people. + +And yet George did not leave the theatre. He was hurt, wounded to the +heart by what he saw and heard, felt he would have given the world to +have stood up in the box, and have told the audience that the play was a +libel upon everything sacred and solemn; but he stayed and saw it out, +rivetted by that strange, unholy infatuation which has been the bane of +so many. + +"Let us go now, Hardy," he said, as the curtain dropped; "you do not +care to see the ballet, do you?" + +"Oh, in for a penny, in for a pound. While we are here, we may as well +see all that is to be seen. I won't ask you how you liked the comedy. I +want to see something lively now, to remove the disagreeable impressions +it has left upon me." + +And so they stayed, delighted with the music, fascinated with the +graceful dancing, and dazzled with the scenery. At length the curtain +fell, and the evening's performance was over. + +"It is only half-past eleven," said Ashton, when they got outside; "now +we must just turn in somewhere, and get a bit of supper, and then, I +suppose we must separate. There is a first-rate hotel close handy, where +I sometimes dine. What do you say?" + +"Just the place for us," said Dixon; "because we must limit ourselves to +half an hour, and we shall get what we want quickly there." + +As they went into the supper-room, George saw, to his vexation, Lawson +and Williams, with a party of boon companions, seated round a table at +the further end. He instantly drew back; but it was too late, they had +recognised him. + +"Confound it!" he said to Ashton, "there are some chaps from our office, +at the end there. I do not wish to meet them; cannot we go into a +private room?" + +"Certainly," said Ashton; and the party retreated. "But why do you not +wish to meet your fellow clerks?" + +"Because they are a low set of fellows with whom I have nothing in +common." + +When supper was over and the clock had struck twelve, the party +separated. + +"Good night, old fellow," said Ashton to George. "I am sorry we have +not seen quite the sort of play you would have liked; but now you have +seen the worst side of the theatre, and next time we go together we will +try and see the best; so that between the two extremes you will be able +to discriminate and determine what sort of place the theatre is as an +amusement." + +"Thank you, Ashton, for your share in the entertainment to-night. I will +talk to you about the play some other time; but I must say, candidly, I +never felt so distressed in my life as I did while that gross insult to +all good feeling, 'The Serious Family,' was being performed. If you had +said to me what that wretch, Captain Maguire, said in my hearing +to-night, I would not have shaken hands with you again as I do now." + +An omnibus happened to be passing for the Angel at Islington that +moment, and George and Hardy got up. + +"What shall we do with regard to Williams and Lawson?" said Hardy. "They +have got a victory to-night. I fear our protest against theatres and +taverns is over with them for ever now, seeing they have caught us at +both places." + +"I cannot but regret the circumstance," said George, "but it is nothing +to them; they are not our father-confessors, and we are not bound to +enter into any particulars with them. The greatest difficulty with me is +how to manage when I get home. I don't like deceiving my mother; but I +should not like to pain her by saying I have been to the theatre. She +knew I started for the institution, and that I might possibly be late; +so, unless she asks me where I have been, I don't see that there will be +any good in unnecessarily distressing her." + +"The disagreeable thing in such a case is," replied Hardy, "if the fact +comes out afterwards, it _looks_ as if a deception had been practised." + +George and Hardy had never talked together like this before; and they +spoke hesitatingly, as if they hardly liked to hear their own voices +joining to discuss a mean, unworthy, dishonourable trick. + +O temptation! what an inclined path is thine! How slippery for the feet, +and how rapidly the unwary traveller slides along, lower and lower--each +step making the attempt to ascend again to high ground more difficult! +George had made many dangerous slips that night--would he ever regain +his position? + +Mrs. Weston was sitting up for George, and pleased was she to hear, at +last, his knock at the door. + +"Mother, this is too bad of me, keeping you up so late," said George. "I +really did not mean to keep bad hours to-night; but I will turn over a +new leaf for the future." + +"I do not mind sitting up, George, if it is for your good," she +answered; "but I fear you will not improve your health by being so late +as this. Have you enjoyed your meeting to-night?" + +"Pretty well," said George; "but I have been with Ashton, Dixon, and +Hardy since." + +"Then you have not had supper?" + +"Yes, we had supper with Ashton." George got red as he said this. It was +the first time he ever remembered wilfully deceiving his mother. + +"Oh! that has made you late, then," said Mrs. Weston. "I am afraid +Ashton has so many attractions in those apartments of his--what with +friends, books, and curiosities--that you find it difficult to break up +your social gatherings." + +"It is too bad of me to leave you so often, my dear mother; but I don't +mean to go to Ashton's again for some time, unless he comes to see us; +and so I shall return straight home from the institution for a long +while." + +When George retired to his room, he felt so distracted with all that +had taken place, that his old custom of reading a chapter from God's +Word, and kneeling down to pray before getting into bed, was abandoned +for that night. He tried to sleep, but could not. The strains of music +were yet ringing in his ears, and the dazzling light was still flashing +before his eyes. Then the plays came again before him; and he followed +the plots throughout, smiling again over some of the jokes, and feeling +depressed at the sad parts. Then he thought of Williams and Lawson, and +reproached himself for having acted that evening very, very foolishly. +Alas! this was not the right term; it was more than foolishness to +tamper with the voice of conscience, to violate principles which had +been inculcated from childhood, to plot wilful deceit, and act a lie. +Instead of saying he had acted foolishly, he should have said, "Father, +I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight Have mercy upon me, O God! +Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquities, and cleanse me from my sin; for +against Thee, Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil." But George +only said, "I am so very vexed I went with Ashton to-night; it was very +foolish!--very foolish!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE LECTURE. + + +"You look seedy this morning, Mr. Weston," said Williams, as George +entered the office on the following day. "The effect of last night's +dissipation, I suppose. How did you like the play?" + +"Not at all," answered George, mortified and angry at having the +question put to him before all the clerks, who were now informed of the +fact of his having been there. + +"No; I suppose one Abinadab Sleek does not like to hear another one of +the same gang spoken ill of, eh?" + +"I do not understand you," said George. + +"Then, to put it plainer, you and Hardy, who are of the 'Serious Family' +style, don't like to see yourselves taken off quite so true to life as +you were last night at the Adelphi. You saw that old canting Abinadab +Sleek was up to every dodge and vice, although he did seem such a +sanctified individual in public; and our young Solomons, who condemn +wicked theatres and disgusting taverns, can go to both on the sly, and +be as sanctimonious as ever Abinadab was in office." + +George felt his hands clench, and his eyes flash fire. He could bear +taunts from Williams, when he had right on his side, and felt the +consciousness of innocence; but he could not bear it now. + +"You lie," said George passionately, "in drawing that comparison." + +"And you lie continually," said Williams, "in acting a perpetual edition +of that part of the 'Serious Family' represented by Abinadab Sleek." + +"Fight it out I fight it out!" said Lawson. "The Governor won't be here +for half an hour; bolt the door and have it out." + +"Nothing of the kind," said Hardy, stepping forward. "Williams is the +aggressor in this instance; it is nothing to him if Weston and I went to +the theatre every night in our lives; he has no right to interfere; if +he fights it must be with Weston and me, for he insults me as much as my +friend." + +"Then come on," said Williams, taking off his coat, "and I'll take you +both: one man is worth two canting hypocrites, any day." + +But no one had bolted the door, and, to the surprise of all, Mr. +Compton stood before them. + +"What is this?" he said; "young men in my office talking of fighting, as +if it were the tap-room of a public house? George Weston! I did not +think this of you." + +"Do not judge hastily, sir," said Hardy. "My friend Weston has been +grossly insulted by Mr. Williams, and the little disturbance has only +been got up through jealousy, to get him into trouble." + +"Step into my room a moment, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Compton; "and you, +too, Weston and Williams." + +George was flushed with excitement; but his proud, manly bearing, in +contrast to the crest-fallen Williams, won for him the admiration of the +whole staff of clerks. + +Mr. Compton patiently heard from Hardy a recital of the causes leading +to the fray, and was made acquainted with the course of opposition +George had to contend with, from Williams and Lawson, ever since he had +been in the office. + +"I regret this circumstance," said Mr. Compton, "for several reasons. I +have always held you, Weston, in the highest estimation, nor do I see +sufficient cause, from this event, to alter my estimate; but I have +always found my best clerks those who have been in the habit of spending +their evenings elsewhere than in theatres and taverns. I am not +surprised at the part you have taken, Mr. Williams; and it now rests +with you, whether you remain in this office or leave. I will not have +the junior clerks in this establishment held in subjection to those who +have been with me a few years longer; nor will I have a system of insult +and opposition continued, which must eventually lead to unpleasant +results. If I hear any more of this matter, or find that you persist in +your unwarranted insults on Mr. Weston, I shall at once dismiss you from +my service. You did well, Mr. Hardy, in interfering to prevent a +disgraceful fight; and, much as I dislike tale-bearing, I request you to +inform me, for the future, of any unpleasantness arising to Mr. Weston +from this affair." + +Williams was terribly crest-fallen, and the tide of office opinion +turned from him in favour of George and Hardy, who, without crowing over +the victory they had gained, yet showed a manly determination not to +allow an insult which reflected upon their characters. + +"I tell you what it is," whispered Lawson to Williams; "Old Compton +takes a fancy to those two sneaking fellows, and, after this affair, +the office will get too hot for us if we do not draw it milder to them. +If I were you, I should waylay them outside the office and say something +civil, by way of soft soap, so as to nip this matter off, for you've got +the worst of it so far." + +Williams determined to accept the hint Lawson had given him, and when +the office closed, remained in the court until George came out. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, stretching out his hand, which George felt would +be mean-spirited not to take, "that was an unpleasant affair this +morning, but I didn't think you would fire up as you did; and when I let +fly at you, it was only in joke." + +"I must deny that it was a joke," George replied; "it was an intended +insult. Probably you might not have thought it would have produced +indignation in me, because you, evidently, do not understand my feelings +in the matter. However, let the thing drop now. I will not retract what +I said to you this morning, that you lied in forming that estimate of my +character, nor do I ask you to retract your words, unless your +conscience tells you that you wronged me." + +"What I said was hasty, and I don't mind eating all my words," said +Williams; "so, as the song says, 'Come, let us be happy together.' Will +you come into the King's Head, and take a glass of wine on the strength +of it?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "but as it is no wish of mine to live at +loggerheads with any one, here is my hand upon it." + +And then they shook hands, and so the matter ended. But it ended only so +far as Williams was concerned. A day or two afterwards Mr. Brunton was +passing the office, and he called in to say "How d'ye do?" to Mr. +Compton. In the course of conversation he asked how George was getting +on, and whether he continued to give satisfaction. + +"Yes," said Mr. Compton, "I have no fault to find with him; on the +contrary, he is the best junior clerk I ever had, and I trust him with +matters I never placed in the hands of a junior clerk before. But there +was an unfortunate occurrence the other day, which I think it right to +mention to you confidentially." And then Mr. Brunton heard the whole +history of the theatre adventure, and its consequences in the office on +the following morning. He was grieved, deeply grieved. At first he could +not credit the account; but when he heard that George had himself +confessed to the truth of the circumstances before Mr. Compton, and +there was no longer room to doubt, a tear stood in his eye as he thought +of his nephew--that noble, manly boy, whom he loved with all the +affection of a father--stooping to temptation, and acting the part of a +deceiver; for Mr. Brunton had spent an evening with Mrs. Weston and +George, and had heard nothing of his having been to a theatre, nor did +he believe Mrs. Weston was aware of it. + +"What I have told you is strictly confidential," said Mr. Compton; "but +as you are, as it were, the father of George Weston, I thought it only +right that you should know this, in order that you may warn him, if he +has got into the hands of bad companions." + +George was absent from the office during the interview, and did not know +until some days afterwards of his uncle's visit. + +Mr. Brunton went from Falcon-court a sadder man. He was perplexed and +harassed; he could not conscientiously tell Mrs. Weston, as he had +received the information in confidence; he could not speak directly to +George upon the subject, because he would at once have known that Mr. +Compton must have given the statement to his uncle. He was obliged, +therefore, to remain passive in the matter for a day or two, and +resolved to spend an evening that week at Islington. + +In the meantime the affair became known to Mrs. Weston, and in rather a +curious manner. George had worn his best coat on the evening he went to +the theatre; and one day as Mrs. Weston, according to custom, was +brushing it, before putting it away in his drawers, she turned out the +pockets, and, amongst other things, drew forth a well-used play-bill. + +"George has never been to the theatre, surely?" she asked herself. +"Impossible! he would have told me had he done so, for he is far too +high-principled to deceive me." + +But the sight of that play-bill worried Mrs. Weston. She thought over it +all day, and longed for the evening to come, when she might ask George +about it. + +That evening Mr. Brunton had determined to spend at Islington; and as he +was passing Falcon-court, he called for George on his way, and they +walked home together. + +The play-bill happened to be on the table when they entered, and it +caught the eye of both George and Mr. Brunton at once. + +"Where did you get that from?" asked George, colouring, not with the +honest flush of self-respect, but with the burning sense of deceit +detected. + +"I found it in your pocket, George; and as I have never found one there +before, I thought I would leave it out, to ask you how you came by it." + +"I came by it the other night, when I went to the theatre," said George; +for he could not tell a direct falsehood. "I did not tell you of it at +the time, but led you to suppose that I had been at the institution." + +Mrs. Weston was indeed sorry to hear George's account of what had +passed; but Mr. Brunton felt all his old confidence in George restored +by the open, genuine statement he made. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton, "I know you are old enough to manage your +affairs for yourself, without an uncle's interference, but do take from +me one word of caution. I fear you may be led unwittingly into error by +your associates. Do be on your guard--'if sinners entice thee, consent +thou not.' If you feel it right, and can conscientiously go with them +and adopt their habits, I have no right, nor should I wish to advise +you; but if you feel that you are wrong in what you do, listen to the +voice of your better self, and pause to consider. Do not turn a deaf +ear to its entreaties, but be admonished by its counsel, and rather +sacrifice friends and pleasure than that best of all enjoyments--the +satisfaction of acting a part of duty to God and yourself." + +George did not argue the point with his uncle; he felt himself in the +wrong, but could not see his way clear to get right again. + +"I have made so many resolves in my short life," he said, "and have +broken them so often, that I will not pledge myself to making fresh ones +My error, in this instance, has not been the fault of my companionships, +but entirely my own; and, as far as I can see, the chief blame lies in +having concealed the matter from my mother, which I did principally out +of kindness to her. But I will endeavour to take your counsel, uncle." + +Weeks passed away, and with them the vivid memories of that time. George +had at length reasoned himself into the idea that a great deal of +unnecessary fuss had been made about nothing, and instead of weaning +himself from the society of Ashton, they became more than ever thrown +into each other's company. George was a constant attendant at the +institution, where he was surrounded by a large circle of intimate +acquaintances, with whom much of his time was spent. In the office he +had risen in the estimation of the clerks. Williams and Lawson, finding +that opposition was unavailing, altered their conduct towards him, and +became as civil and obliging as they had before been insulting and +disagreeable. George began to think he had belied their characters from +not having known sufficient of them; and instead of shunning them, as he +had hitherto done, sometimes took a stroll with them in the evening +after office hours, and once or twice had dined with them at the King's +Head. + +Imperceptibly, George began to alter. Sooner or later, evil +communications must corrupt good manners; and from continually beholding +the lives of his companions, without possessing that one thing needful +to have kept him free from the entanglement of their devices, he became +changed into the same image, by the dangerous power of their influence +and example. + +A month or two after the theatre adventure, Mrs. Weston received an +invitation to spend a week or two in the country with some relatives, +whom she had not seen for several years. Mr. Brunton persuaded her to +accept it, as the change would be beneficial; and George, knowing how +seldom his mother had an opportunity for recreation, added all his +powers of argument to induce her to go. The only obstacle presenting +itself was the management of the house during her absence. Mr. Brunton +invited George to stay with him while Mrs. Weston would be away; and she +did not like to leave her servant alone in the house with the boarders. +It was at last arranged that George should decline Mr. Brunton's +invitation, and have the oversight of the house during his mother's +absence. + +The first night after her departure, George brought Hardy home with him +to spend the evening, and a pleasant, quiet time they had together. + +"It will be rather dull for you, George," said Hardy, "if Mrs. Weston is +going to remain away for a few weeks. What shall you do on Sunday? You +had better come and spend the day with us." + +"No, I cannot do that, because I promised I would be here, to let the +servant have an opportunity of going to church. But I mean to ask Ashton +to come and spend the day here, and you will come too; and there's +Dixon, he is a nice fellow, I'll ask him to come as well." + +"What is to be the programme for the day?" said Hardy. "Of course it +will be a quiet one." + +"We will all go to church or chapel in the morning, spend the afternoon +together at home, and take a stroll in the evening after the service. +Are you agreed?" + +"I think we shall have a very nice day of it. Let the other chaps know +of it early, and we will meet here in good time in the morning." + +Sunday came, and George's friends arrived as he expected. They were +early, and had time for a chat before starting out. + +"Where shall we go this morning?" asked George. "There is a very good +minister close by at the church, and another equally good at the chapel. +My principles are unsectarian, and I do not mind where it is we go." + +"Don't you think," said Dixon, "we might do ourselves more good by +taking a stroll a few miles out of town, and talking out a sermon for +ourselves?" + +"I am inclined to the belief that nature is the best preacher," Ashton +remarked. "We hear good sermons from the pulpit, it is true; but words +are poor things to teach us of the Creator, in comparison with +creation." + +"I do not agree with you in your religious sentiments, Ashton, as you +know," said George. "Creation tells us nothing about our Saviour, and, +as I read the Scriptures, no man can know God, the Father and Great +Creator, but through Him." + +"And yet, if I remember rightly, the Saviour said that He made the +world, and without Him was not anything made that was made--so that He +was the Creator; and when we look from nature up to nature's God we see +Him, and connecting His history with the world around us, we have in +creation, as I said before, the best sermon; aye, and what the parsons +call a 'gospel' sermon, too." + +"I agree with you," said Dixon; "preaching is all very well in its way, +and I like a good sermon; but the words of man can never excel the works +of God." + +"A proper sermon," replied George, "is not uttered in the words of man; +they are God's words applied and expounded. Nature may speak to the +senses, but the Scriptures alone speak to the heart; and that is the +object of preaching. But you are my visitors, and you shall decide the +point." + +"Then I say a stroll," said Ashton. + +"And so do I," chimed in Dixon. + +"I am for going to a place of worship," said Hardy. + +"And so am I," Ashton replied; "is not all God's universe a place of +worship?" + +"Perhaps so," answered Hardy; "but I mean the appointed and proper +place, where those who try to keep holy the Sabbath day are accustomed +to meet--a church or chapel." + +"I side with Hardy," said George. "But I am willing to meet you halfway. +If I go with you this morning, you must all promise to go with me in the +evening. But bear in mind I am making a concession, and I go for a +stroll under protest, because it is contrary to my custom." + +"All right, old chap," said Ashton. "I never knew anybody's conscience +fit them so uneasily as yours does. But it always did; at school, you +were a martyr to it, and I believe the blame lies at the door of dear +old Dr. Seaward, who persisted in training us up in the way we should +go, just as if we were all designed to be parsons." + +"Poor old Dr. Seaward!" said George. "If he only knew two of his old +scholars were going out for a stroll on Sunday morning to hear nature +preach, I believe his body would hardly contain his troubled spirit." + +"And he would appear before us to stop us on our way--" + +"Like the spirit before Balaam and his ass, seems the most appropriate +simile," said Dixon, "for, if I recollect rightly, Balaam was going +where he should not have gone, and his conscience gave him as much +trouble as Weston's does." + +George did not think and say, as Balaam did, "I have sinned;" but he +felt the sting of ridicule, and determined he would allow no +conscientious scruple to bring it upon him again during that day. + +"After all," he argued with himself, "what is the use of my being +conscientious, for I am so wretchedly inconsistent? I had better go all +one way, or all the other, instead of wavering between the two, and +perpetually showing my weakness." + +It would have puzzled any one to have told what sermon nature preached +to that merry party, as they wandered through green fields and quiet +lanes, talking upon a hundred different subjects, and making the calm +Sabbath morn ring with the strains of their laughter. + +"Your idea of creation's voice is better in theory than in practice," +George said, when they returned home. "Can any of you tell me what the +text was which nature took to preach from, for I have no distinct +remembrance of it?" + +"The text seemed to me to be this," said Dixon, "that 'to everything +there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens--a time +to weep and a time to laugh--a time to keep silence and a time to +speak;' and the application was, that we had chosen the right time for +enjoying much speaking and much laughing." + +The afternoon was not spent as George had been accustomed to spend it. +Light, frivolous conversation, and still more dangerous debate upon +religious subjects, without religious feeling, occupied the time, and +George felt glad when the evening came, and they started off together to +hear a popular preacher, whose merits they had been discussing during +the afternoon. + +On their way thither they passed a large building, into which several +people were entering, and as the outside of the place was ornamented +with handbills, they paused to read them. They ran thus:-- + + "HALL OF SCIENCE.--A Lecture will be delivered in this Hall on + Sunday evening, at half past six, by Professor Martin, on 'The Uses + of Reason.' Young men are cordially invited to attend. + + "What is truth? Search and see." + +"Do you know anything of this Professor Martin?" asked Dixon. "Is he +worth hearing?" + +"A friend of mine told me he had heard him, a little while ago, and was +never better pleased with any lecture," Ashton answered. "Shall we put +up here for the evening?" + +"Is he a preacher, or a mere lecturer?" asked George. The question +attracted the attention of a person entering the Hall; and, turning to +George, he answered:-- + +"Professor Martin is one of those best of all preachers. He can interest +without sending you to sleep, and his discourses are full of sound +wisdom. He is a lover of truth, and advocates the only way to arrive at +it, which is by unfettered thought. In his lectures he puts his theory +into practice by freely expressing his unfettered thoughts. I have seats +in the front of the lecture-room; if you will favour me by accepting +them, they are at your service." + +The plausible and polite manner of the stranger was effectual with +George. + +"I don't think we can do better than go in and hear what the lecturer +has to say," he said to the others. And, assent being given, they +followed the stranger, and were conducted to the proffered seats. + +The audience consisted principally of men, the majority of whom were +young and of an inferior class, such as shopmen and mechanics. There was +a large platform, with chairs upon it, but no pulpit or reading-desk. +When the lecturer, accompanied by a chairman and some friends, entered, +George and his companions were surprised to hear a clapping of hands and +stamping of feet, similar to the plan adopted at public amusements. + +"This does not seem much like a Sunday evening service," said George. +"We have time to leave, if you like; or shall we stay and see it out?" + +"Oh! let us stay," replied the others. + +No hymn was sung, no prayer was offered at the commencement, but the +lecturer, with a pocket Bible in his hands, quoted a few passages of +Scripture, as follows:-- + +"Come now, and let us reason together,"--Isa. i. 18; "I applied mine +heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, and to know the +reason of things,"--Eccles. vii. 25; "And Paul, as his manner was, went +in unto them, and three Sabbath days reasoned with them out of the +Scriptures,"--Acts xvii. 2; "Be ready alway to give an answer to every +man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,"--1 Peter iii. +15. + +The object of the lecturer was to show that no intelligent being could +receive truth unless that truth commended itself to reason, because the +two were never in opposition one with the other. Conscience, he said, +was the soul's safeguard, and reason the safeguard of the heart and +intellect. It was irrational to condemn any course of conduct which +conscience approved, and it was equally irrational to believe anything +that could not be understood. The Word of God might be useful in its +way, but only as studied with unfettered thought. If that Word exalted +reason and then taught inconsistencies and absurdities, reason must +discriminate between the right and the wrong. "For example," he +continued, "if that book tells me that there are three Gods, and yet +those three are one, I reason by analogy and say, here are three +fingers; each one has its particular office; but I cannot make these +three fingers one finger, neither can I make three Gods one God." + +So the lecturer continued, but he did not put his case in so many plain +words as these; every argument he clothed with doubtful words, so as to +make falsehood look like truth, and blasphemy like worship. He was an +educated and intelligent man, gifted with that dangerous power of +preaching the doctrine of devils in the guise of an angel of light, and +handling deadly sophistry with as firm a grasp as if it were the sword +of the Spirit. + +At the conclusion of the lecture he announced his intention to speak +from that platform again on the following Sunday, and invited all who +were inquiring the way of truth to be present, and judge what he said, +"whether it be right, or whether it be wrong." + +As George and his friends were leaving the hall, the stranger, who had +accosted them before, came up, and bowing politely said-- + +"Will you allow me to offer you the same seats, for next Sunday evening? +If you will say yes, I will reserve them for you; otherwise you may have +difficulty in obtaining admission, for the room will, in all +probability, be more crowded than to-night, as Professor Martin was not +announced to lecture until late in the week, and the friends who +frequent the Hall had no notice of his being here." + +"I will certainly come," said Ashton. "I never heard a speaker I liked +better. What say you?" he asked, turning to the others. + +"I am anxious to hear the conclusion of the argument," said George; "so +we will accept your invitation," he added to the stranger, "and thank +you for your kindness and courtesy." + +It was a long conversation the friends had as they strolled along that +evening. To George every argument the lecturer had brought forward was +new; and bearing, as they did, the apparent stamp of truth, he was +utterly confounded. Although he was a good biblical scholar, as regarded +the historical and narrative parts of the Scriptures, he was but ill +informed on those more subtle points which the lecturer handled. He had +never heard the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, disputed, and had +always implicitly believed it; now, when the lecturer quoted Scripture +to prove that truth was to be analysed by reason, and reason rejected +the idea of a Trinity, he was as unable to reconcile the two as if he +had never received any religious instruction at all. + +"If what he advances be true," said George, "how irrational many things +in the Christian religion are! And how singular that men like him, who +'search into the reason of things' for wisdom, and hold opinions +contrary to the orthodox notions of those whom we call Christians, +should be looked upon with suspicion and distrust." + +"No," replied Ashton; "he met that idea by saying that it was not more +than singular, in the early stages of science, for people to be burnt as +witches and magicians, because they made discoveries which are now +developed and brought into daily use, than it is now for men to be +scouted as infidel and profane, because they teach opinions which only +require investigation to make them universally admitted." + +An unhappy day was that Sunday for George Weston. He had violated +principle, made concessions against the dictates of conscience (how poor +a safeguard for him!) and had learnt lessons which taught him to despise +those instructions which had hitherto been as a lamp unto his feet and a +light unto his path. + +"Blessed is the man that _walketh_ not in the counsel of the ungodly, +nor _standeth_ in the way of sinners, nor _sitteth_ in the seat of the +scornful." George little thought how rapidly he was passing through +those different stages on the downward road. Had he never listened to +the council of the ungodly, he would not have walked in the way of evil, +but would have avoided even its very appearance; he would not have stood +in the way of sinners, parleying with temptations, as he had done on so +many occasions; nor would he have occupied that most dangerous of all +positions, the fatal ease of sitting in the seat of the scornful. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +GETTING ON IN THE WORLD. + + +"Mr. Compton wishes to speak with you, Weston," said Mr. Sanders, the +manager, to George one morning, during the visit of Mrs. Weston in the +country. + +"Good morning, Weston," said Mr. Compton; "I want to have a few minutes' +conversation with you: sit down. You have been in my office now more +than a twelvemonth, and I promised that you should have an increased +salary at the expiration of that time. Your services have been very +valuable to me during the past year, and I am in every way satisfied +with you. As a tangible proof of this, I beg your acceptance of this +little present," (handing him a ten-pound note,) "and during this year +on which you have entered, I shall have much pleasure in giving you a +salary of two guineas a week." + +"I am exceedingly obliged to you sir," George stammered out, for he was +flabbergasted at the kindness of his employer; "I hope I may always +continue to do my duty in your office, and deserve your approbation." + +"I hope so, too;" said Mr. Compton, "both for your sake and for my own. +If you continue as you have begun, there is a fair field before you, and +I will advance you as opportunity occurs. Now, apart from business, I +want one word with you. I kept you purposely last year upon a low +salary, because I have found that sometimes it is beneficial to young +men to have only a small income. With your increased salary, you will +have increased means for entering that style of life which is, +unfortunately, too universal with young men--I mean the gaieties and +dissipations of a London life are now more open to you than they were +before. But what is termed a 'fast' young man never makes a good clerk, +and I do hope you will not allow yourself to fail into habits which will +be obstacles to your future promotion." + +"I will endeavour, sir, always to maintain my position in your office," +said George; "and I feel very grateful to you for the interest you take +in my personal welfare." + +George was in high spirits with his good fortune. He had not expected +more than a guinea, or at the utmost thirty shillings a week increase +for his second year, and had never dreamt of receiving so handsome a +present as L10. By that night's post he sent off a long letter to his +mother, giving her an account of the interview, and of his future +prospects. + +But George had different ideas about his future now, to those he +cherished a twelvemonth back. Then he thought only of himself and his +mother; how happy they would be together, and how much he would +endeavour to contribute to her enjoyment. Now he congratulated himself +that he would be upon a footing with his friends, that he could do as +they did, and that he had the means to follow up those recreations which +were becoming habitual to him. For since Mrs. Weston had been away, +George had gone step by step further on unhallowed ground. Even Ashton +said, "Weston, you are coming it pretty strong, old fellow!" and Hardy +had declared that he could not keep pace with him. Night after night, as +he had no one at home to claim his presence there, he had been to +theatres and other places of amusement. Sunday after Sunday he had +attended the lectures at the Hall of Science, and abandoning himself to +the tide which was hurrying him along, he floated down the dangerous +stream. + +The principles of infidelity which had been inculcated, appealed to him +with a voice so loud as to drown the appeals from a higher source. The +one approved his conduct, the other condemned it--the one pointed to the +world as a scene of enjoyment, the other as at enmity with God. George +felt that if he would hold one he must resign the other. He had not that +moral courage, or rather he had not the deep-rooted conviction of sin, +or the earnest love and fear of God, to enable him to burst through the +entanglements of the world and the world's god, and choosing whom he +would serve: he loved darkness rather than light. + +When Mrs. Weston returned, after a month's absence, she could not but +observe an alteration in George. Although he never told her of his +attendance at the lectures on Sunday, or the arguments he had had with +friends who held infidel opinions, she soon perceived that George's +feelings were undergoing a rapid and dangerous change. Those subjects on +which he was once in the habit of conversing with her, he now carefully +shunned. He was affectionate and kind to his mother still, and loved her +with all his old intense love, but that ingenuous confidence which he +had always reposed in her was gone. Things that were dear to him now he +could not discuss with her; instead of telling her how he spent his +time, and what were his amusements, he avoided any mention of them. The +deception which he first practised on that night when he yielded to +Ashton's persuasion, was now a system. He reasoned the matter over with +himself: there could be no good in telling her; their opinions were +different; he would take his course, independently of hers. + +Uncle Brunton noticed the change; for to those who saw him seldom the +change was sudden. But to George, every day there seemed an epoch, and +he was unconscious of the rapidity with which old associations and ideas +cherished from childhood were thrown down and trampled upon by the new +feelings which had taken possession of him. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton to him one day, "I am growing uneasy about +you. I feel that I am not the same to you, nor you to me, we used to be, +only a few months back. I cannot tell the reason--cannot tell when the +difference commenced or how--but for some months past--ever since your +mother's visit to the country--there has been a want of that old +confidential, affectionate intercourse between us there used to be." + +"I was younger then," said George, "and the freshness of youthful +feeling and attachment may die away as we advance in years; but I am not +aware that I have ever given you occasion to say I do not love you +sincerely still, uncle. Your kindness to me never can, and never will be +forgotten." + +"Well, George, I cannot explain what I mean. I have a kind of feeling +about you that something is wrong which I cannot put into words. I fancy +that if I offer you a word of counsel, you do not receive it as you once +did; if I talk seriously with you, it does not make the same impression, +or touch the spring of the same feelings. You do not talk to me with the +old frankness and candour which made my heart leap, when I thanked God I +had got some one in the world to love, and who loved me. But perhaps I +wrong you, and expect too much from you." + +"No, not that, uncle. Frankness, candour, and love are due to you, and +while I have them they shall always be yours; and to prove it, I will +tell what I have never told any one before, what I have hardly spoken to +my own heart. I think of the George Weston you brought away from Dr. +Seaward's, who stood with you beside a father's deathbed, and who, +eighteen months ago, went into Mr. Compton's office; then I think of +George Weston of to-day, and I feel amazed at the change a few years has +made. I have asked myself a hundred times, am I really the same? Oh, +uncle! you do not know what I would give to be that boy again--to live +once more in that old world of sunshine." + +Tears started to George's eyes as he spoke, and Mr. Brunton could only +squeeze his hand, and say, "God bless you, my boy! God bless you!" + +A few days later Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston were one whole evening +together talking about George. Both hearts were heavy, but Mr. Brunton's +was the lighter of the two. + +"I tell you what I think will be the very best thing for you and for +George," he said, "It is now the early spring, and the country is +beginning to look fresh and green. Leave this house and take one in the +country. I think George can easily be made to accede to this +proposition--he was always fond of country life and recreations. He can +have a season ticket on the railway, and come down every night. This +will wean him from his associates, and induce him to keep earlier hours, +and give us, too, a better opportunity to lure him back to his old +habits of life." + +The arrangements were made. Mrs. Weston, with that loving self-denial +which only a mother can exercise, gave up the house, and her circle of +friends, and took up her residence in the country, about twenty miles +from London. George was pleased with the change, and acquiesced in all +the plans which were made. + +About this time, an event happened of considerable importance in the +family history. An old relative of Mrs. Weston's, from whom she had +monetary expectations, died; and upon examination of the will, it was +found that a legacy had been left her of about three thousand pounds, +which was safely invested, and would bring to her an income of nearly a +hundred and fifty pounds a year. + +This was a cause of fear and rejoicing to Mrs. Weston--fear, lest it +should be a snare to George, as he would now have the whole of his +salary at his own disposal, there being no longer any necessity for her +to share it; rejoicing, that she should be able to give him that start +in life which had always been the desire and ambition of Mr. Weston. + +A few months' trial of Mr. Brunton's plan for weaning George from the +allurements of society in London, by taking a house in the country, +proved it to be a failure. For the first month, George went down almost +immediately after leaving business, but it was only for the first month. +Gradually it became later and later, until the last train was generally +the one by which he travelled. Then it sometimes occurred that he lost +the last train, and was obliged to stay at an hotel in town for the +night. At length, this occurred so frequently, that sometimes for three +nights out of the week he never went home at all. On one of these +occasions, a party of gentlemen in the commercial room of the hotel +where he was staying proposed a game of cards, and asked George to make +one at a rubber of whist. George had often played with his own friends, +but never before with total strangers. However, without any hesitation, +he accepted the invitation, and yielded to the proposition that they +should play sixpenny points. The game proceeded, rubber after rubber was +lost and won, and when George rose from the card-table at a late hour he +was loser to the amount of thirty shillings. + +"There is no playing against good cards," said George; "and the run of +luck has been in your favour to-night; but I will challenge you to +another game to-morrow evening, if you will be here?" + +The next night George played again, and won back a pound of the money +he had lost on the preceding evening. This was encouraging. "One more +trial," said George to himself, "and nobody will catch me card-playing +for money again with strangers." But that one more trial was the worst +of all. George lost three pounds! He could ill afford it; as it was he +was living at the very extent of his income, and three pounds was a +large sum. He was obliged to give an I O U for the amount, and in the +meantime borrow the sum from one of his friends. + +"Hardy, have you got three pounds to lend me?" he asked, next morning; +"you shall have it again to-morrow." + +"I have not got that sum with me," said Hardy, "but I can get it for +you. Is it pressing?" + +"Yes; I had a hand at cards last night, and lost." + +"What! with Ashton?" + +"No; with some strangers at the hotel where I have hung out for the last +night or two." + +"You shall have that sum early this evening, George; and twice that +amount, if you will make me one promise. I ask it as an old friend, who +has a right to beg a favour. Give up card-playing, don't try to win back +what you have lost; no good can possibly come of it" + +"Is Saul among the prophets?" asked George, with something like a +sneer. + +"No, George Weston: but a looker-on at chess sees more of the game than +the player; and I have been looking at your last few moves in the game +of life, without taking part with you, and I see you will be checkmated +soon, if you do not alter your tactics. I can't blame you, nor do I wish +to, if I could; but when I first heard you had taken to card playing, I +did feel myself among the prophets then, and prophesied no good would +come of it." + +"When you first heard of my card playing?" asked George. "When did you +hear of it?" + +"A few days since. My father came up from the country by a late train +one night, and stayed at the hotel you patronize. There he saw you, and +told me about it." + +"Confound it! a fellow can't do a thing, even in this great city, +without somebody ferretting it out. But I don't mean to play again. I +have made a fool of myself too many times already; and it serves me +right that I have lost money." + +That evening, while George was making his way to the hotel, a lady was +journeying towards the railway station. An hour later, she was at the +house of Mrs. Weston, and was shown into the drawing-room. + +"I must apologise," said Mrs. Hardy, for it was she, "in calling upon +you at this hour: but I am very anxious to have some conversation with +you." + +"It is strange," said Mrs. Weston, "that as our sons have been intimate +so long, we should have continued strangers; but I am very delighted to +see you, Mrs. Hardy, for I have heard much of you." + +"It is with regard to the intercourse between your son and mine that I +have called. I do not wish to alarm you; but I feel it right that you +should be in possession of information I have of your son." + +Mrs. Hardy then narrated the circumstances connected with her husband's +visit to the hotel on the evening when he found George there card +playing. + +"This evening," she continued, "my son returned home earlier than usual, +and went to his drawer, where I saw him take out some money--two or +three sovereigns. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and after +some difficulty I ascertained he intended lending it to your son. It +occurred to me at once that George Weston was in trouble with those men; +and I thought it only right that you should know." + +It was kind of Mrs. Hardy to shew this interest, and Mrs. Weston +esteemed her for it. But had they stood beside the table at which George +was seated while they were talking, or could they have seen the flush of +excitement as he threw down the cards, exclaiming, "By Jove! I've lost +again!" and have watched the flashing eye and heaving breast, they would +have felt, even more keenly than they did, how futile were words or +sympathies to check the evil. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP. + + +We pass over two years of George Weston's life--years full of strange +experiences--and look into the office in Falcon-court one morning in the +summer of 18--. + +Mr. Compton is away on the Continent for a holiday tour, Mr. Sanders is +still the manager, and nearly all the same old faces are in the office. +George, who is now verging on the legal age of manhood, has risen to a +good position in the establishment, and is regarded as second only to +Mr. Sanders. He is wonderfully altered from when we saw him first in +that office. He is still handsome; but the old sparkling lustre of his +eye has gone, and no trace of boyishness is left. + +Hardy is still there. Two years have not made so much difference in him +as George. He looks older than he really is; but there is no mistaking +him for the quiet, gentlemanly Charles Hardy of former days. Lawson and +Williams are there, coarse and bloated young men, whose faces tell the +history of their lives. Hardy rarely exchanges a word with them. George +does more frequently, but not with the air of superiority he once did. + +A close observer would have noticed in George that morning a careworn +anxious look; would have heard an occasional sigh, and have seen him at +one time turning pale, and again flushing with a crimson red. + +"You are not well," said Hardy. "You have not done a stroke of work all +this morning; quite an unusual thing for you, George." + +"I am not well," he replied; "but it is nothing of importance. I shall +get Mr. Sanders to let me off for an hour's stroll when he comes in from +the Bank." + +Mr. Sanders came in from the Bank, but he was later than usual. His +round generally occupied an hour; this morning he had been gone between +two and three. George watched him anxiously as he took off his hat, +rubbed his nose violently with his pocket handkerchief, and stood gazing +into the fire, ejaculating every now and then, as was his custom if +anything extraordinary or disagreeable had happened, "Ah! umph!" + +"The old boy has found out that the wind has veered to the northeast, +or has stepped upon some orange peel," whispered Lawson to Williams, who +saw that something had gone wrong with the manager. + +"Your proposed stroll will be knocked on the head," said Hardy to +George. "Mr. Sanders is evidently in an ill humour." + +"I shall not trouble him about it," said George; "shirking work always +worries him, and he seems to be worried enough as it is." + +When Mr. Sanders had gazed in the fire for half an hour, and had walked +once or twice up and down the office, as his manner was on such +occasions, he turned to George and said, "I want to speak with you in +the next room." + +"I wish you a benefit, Weston," said Williams as he passed. "Recommend +him a day or two in the country, for the good of his health and our +happiness." + +"Mr. Weston," said the manager, when George had shut the door and seated +himself, "I am in great difficulties. This event has happened at a most +unfortunate time, Mr. Compton is away, and I don't know how to act for +the best. Will you give me your assistance in the matter?" + +"Cannot you make the accounts right, sir?" asked George. "I thought you +had satisfactorily arranged them last night." + +"No, Weston; I have been through them over and over again, but I cannot +get any nearer to a balance. I have been round to the Bank this morning +again, and have seen Mr. Smith about it, but he cannot assist me. +However, inquiries will be made this afternoon, and all our accounts +carefully checked and examined; in the meantime, I wish you would have +out the books and go through them for me. Hardy can assist you, if you +like." + +"I will do all I can for you, to make this matter right," said George; +"but I can do it better alone. If you will give Hardy the job I was +about, I will check the books here by myself." + +All that afternoon George sat alone in Mr. Compton's room surrounded +with books and papers. But he did not examine them. Resting his head +upon his hands, he looked upon them and sighed. Now the perspiration +stood in big drops upon his forehead and his hands trembled. Then he +would walk up and down the room, halting to take deep draughts of water +from a bottle on the table. + +Mr. Sanders occasionally looked in to ask how he was going on, and if he +had discovered the error. + +"No," said George; "the accounts seem right; but I cannot make them +agree with the cash-book. There is still a hundred pounds short; but I +will go through them again if you like." + +"Perhaps you had better. I expect Mr. Smith here by six o'clock; will +you remain with me and see him? He may assist us." + +"Certainly," said George; "I feel as anxious as you do about the matter, +for all the bills and cheques have passed through my hands as well as +yours; and I shall not rest easy until the missing amount is +discovered." + +Mr. Smith arrived just as the clerks were leaving the office, and Mr. +Sanders and George were alone with him. + +"Well," said Mr. Smith, "we have gone carefully over every item to-day, +and at last the defalcation is seen. This cheque," he continued, +producing the document, "is forged. The signature is unquestionably Mr. +Compton's, but the rest of the writing is counterfeit." + +"A forged cheque!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, aghast; "impossible!" + +"There must be some mistake here," said George, "the accounts in our +books, if I recollect rightly, correspond with the cheques; but--" + +"It is a clumsily arranged affair, although the forgery is a +masterpiece of penmanship," said Mr. Smith; "and if it passes first +through your office, and is entered in your books with the false amount, +it is clear that some one in your employ has committed the offence. I +leave the matter now with you for the present," he added, to Mr. +Sanders; "of course you will put the case at once into the proper medium +and find out the offender." + +When Mr. Smith had gone, George sat down again in the seat he had +occupied during that long afternoon, pale and exhausted. + +"This is a lamentable business," said Mr. Sanders, pacing the room, "a +lamentable business, indeed! I confess I am completely baffled. Mr. +Weston, I look to you for assistance. Can you form any idea how this +matter has come about? Have you suspicion of any of the clerks?" + +"I am equally at a loss with you how to manage in this case. I have no +reason to doubt the integrity of any one in this office. Except one," +said George, as if a sudden idea had come to his mind. "Yes, I have a +suspicion of one; but I cannot tell even you who it is, until I have +made inquiries sufficient to warrant the suspicion. Can you let the +affair rest over to-night, and in the meantime I will do what I can, and +confer with you in the morning." + +"That seems the only plan," answered Mr. Sanders. "If I can render any +assistance in making these inquiries, I will." + +"No, thank you, you will have trouble enough in the matter as it is; and +I can do what I have to do better alone." + +Half an hour after this conversation, a cab was travelling at the utmost +speed along the Clapham road. It stopped at the house of Harry Ashton, +and George alighted. + +"Ashton," said he, "I want to speak to you for two minutes. I have got +into trouble; don't ask me how, or in what way. Unless I can borrow a +hundred pounds to-night, I am ruined. Can you get it for me?" + +"My dear George, sit down and calm yourself, and we will talk the matter +over," said Ashton. "It strikes me you are up to some joke, or you would +never suppose that I, an assistant surveyor with a present limited +income, could fork out a hundred pounds down as a hammer. + +"I am not joking. I dare not explain more. I require your confidence for +what I have already said; but I know you have money, and moneyed +friends. Can you get it for me anyhow, from anywhere?" + +"No, I cannot, and that's plump," answered Ashton; "it is the end of the +quarter, and I have not more than ten pounds in my pocket You are +welcome to that, if it is any good; but I cannot go into the country to +my father's to-night, that is very certain; and if I could, he would not +advance so much without knowing exactly what it was for; nor should I +care to lend that sum, even to you, George, unless I knew what you were +going to do with it, and when I should see it back. If it is so +pressing, you might have my ten, ten more from Dixon, and I could get a +pound or two from other sources." + +"No, that would take too long, and I have but an hour or two to make the +arrangements." As he spoke, George fell into a chair, and buried his +face in his hands. + +"What, George, my old pippin, what is the matter?" said Ashton, going to +him. "You have lost at cards again, I suppose: but take heart, man, +never get out of pluck for such a thing as that. But you are ill, I know +you are, you are as white as a sheet. Here, take tins glass of brandy." + +"I only feel faint." said George, rising. "I shall be all right when I +get out into the open air. Good-bye, Ashton, my old school-chum, we +shall never meet again after to-night; but I shan't forget our happy +days together--I mean the days at Dr. Seaward's--they were the happy +ones, after all." + +"George, you are ill, and your brain is touched. Not meet again after +to-night? Nonsense, we don't part so easily, if that is the case;" and +Ashton locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. + +"Unfasten that door!" almost shouted George; "you do not know my +strength at this moment, and I might do you some harm; but I should not +like to part with my oldest friend like that. Open the door!" + +"Not a bit of it," answered Ashton. "Tell me more particulars, and I +will try what I can do in getting the money." + +"No; you have told me you cannot. I have one more chance elsewhere; let +me try that. Ashton, do not be a fool; open that door, and let me go." + +"Then I will go with you," answered Ashton; and he unlocked the door. +But while he turned to get his hat, George rushed from the room, opened +the hall-door, and, closing it again upon Ashton, jumped into the cab +awaiting him, and giving the word, "Islington, quick!" drove off, +leaving his friend in the road, running after the vehicle, and calling +upon the driver to stop. + +"Don't mind him," George called to the man; "an extra five shillings for +driving quickly." + +Ashton was at his wit's end. He ran on, till he could run no longer. +Just then, an empty cab passing, he hailed the driver. + +"Drive after that cab in front," said Ashton, as he got in; "follow it +wherever it goes. Sharp's the word, man!" + +It was a long time before the traffic in the roads allowed Ashton's cab +to overtake the one ahead; but both came up nearly abreast in the +Waterloo road, and then the one he was pursuing turned abruptly towards +the railway station. + +"Ah! George, my old fellow," said Ashton to himself, "you little think I +have been so closely on your scent; but I knew I had not seen the last +of you." + +Both cabs drew up at the station steps together. Ashton jumped out, and +ran to meet George; but blank was his astonishment to see an oldish lady +and her attendant alight from the vehicle, which he had imagined +contained his friend! + +We will leave Ashton at the Waterloo station in a mortified and +disconsolate state, quarrelling with the driver for having pursued the +wrong cab, and follow George Weston to Islington. + +"Hardy," he said, as soon as he found himself alone with his friend, +"are you willing to help me, to save me, perhaps, from ruin? I want to +raise a hundred pounds to-night. I must have it. Do you think you can get +it for me?" + +"Me get a hundred pounds? Why, George, my friend, you know the thing is +a clear impossibility. I could not get it, if it were to save my own +life. But why is it so urgent?" he asked. + +"You will know in a day or two. I have now one resource left, and only +one. Will you go to-night to my uncle, Mr. Brunton. Tell him that I want +to save a friend from ruin, and want to borrow a hundred and fifty +pounds, which shall be faithfully repaid. Do not give him to understand +I want it for myself, but that it is for a friend dear to him and to me. +Use every argument you can, and above everything persuade him not to +make any inquiries about it at present. Say I shall have to take part of +it into the country to-morrow morning, and I will see him or write to him +in the evening. Say anything you like, so that you can get the money +for me, and prevent him coming to the office to-morrow morning." + +"George, I am afraid you have got into some bad business again," said +Hardy. "You know I am willing to help you; but I cannot do so, if it is +to encourage you in getting yourself into still greater trouble." + +"This is the last time, Hardy, I shall ever ask a favour of you. Do +assist me; you cannot guess the consequences if you do not." + +"Then tell me, George, what it is that is upsetting you. I never saw you +look so wild and excited before. You can confide in me, old fellow; we +have always kept each other's counsel." + +"To-morrow you shall know all. Now, do start off at once, and see what +you can do. If you cannot bring all the money, bring what you can. Put +the case urgently to my uncle; he cannot refuse me. I will be here again +in about three hours' time; it will not take you longer than that." + +Hardy took a cab, and drove off at once. George remained in the street; +he paced up and down, and took no rest--he was far too excited and +nervous for that. He had got a dangerous game to play, and his plans +were vague and shadowy. He had promised Mr. Sanders he would make +inquiries about the person he suspected had forged the cheque, and let +him know in the morning. His plan was to try and raise the money, pay it +to Mr. Sanders on account of the transgressor, and induce him to take no +further steps until Mr. Compton returned home. On no other ground would +he refund the money on behalf of the forger; and unless Mr. Sanders +would agree to these terms, George was determined the matter might take +its own way, and be placed in the hands of the magistrates or police. + +The hours seemed like days to George while Hardy was on his mission. At +length he returned. + +"What success?" asked George running to meet him as soon as he came in +view. + +"Your uncle is in a terrible state of alarm on your account," replied +Hardy, "and I fear he will be at the office some time to-morrow, although +I tried to persuade him not to do so, because it was no matter in which +you were so deeply interested as he supposed. But he cannot lend you the +money, nor can he get the amount you want until to-morrow afternoon. +However he had fifty pounds with him, and he has sent that." + +George took it eagerly. "My plan must fail," he said to Hardy; "but it +would only have been a question of time after all. Hardy, you will hear +strange reports of me after to-morrow; do not believe them all; remember +your old friend as you once knew him, not as report speaks of him. +Good-night, old fellow, you have been a good friend to me. I wish we +could have parted differently." + +"Parted!" ejaculated Hardy; "what do you mean? where are you going?" + +"I cannot tell, but I shall see you at the office to-morrow morning as +usual; I will tell you more then. Do not say a word to anybody about +what has occurred to-night. I know I may trust you; may I not?" + +"Yes, always," answered Hardy; "but I wish you would trust me a little +more, and let me share this trouble with you. We have been old friends +now for years, George; shared ups and downs, and joys and sorrows +together; been brothers in everything which concerned each other's +welfare: and now you are distressed, why not relieve yourself by letting +me bear part of it with you? Recollect our old and earliest days of +friendship, and show that they are still dear to you, as they are to me, +by telling me what has gone wrong with you, and how I can serve or +soothe you in the emergency." + +George could not bear this last touch of kindness. Had Hardy reproached +him for having acted foolishly, or warned him from getting into future +trouble; had he even accused him of having sought to lead others astray, +besides wandering in downward paths himself, George could have listened +calmly and unmoved! but this out-going of his friend's heart overcame +him, and he burst into tears. + +"Good night, Hardy," he said, wringing his friend's hand. "If a prayer +may come from my lips, so long unused to prayer, I say God bless you, +and preserve you from such a lot as mine." George could not utter +another word; he could only shake hands again, and then hurried away to +the hotel where he sometimes slept. + +It was past midnight when he arrived there. Calling for some spirits and +water, and writing materials, he seated himself dejectedly at a table +and wrote. The first letter ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAREST MOTHER, + + "I have some painful news to tell you--so painful that I would rather + you should have received intelligence of my death, than that which + this letter contains. I know you will not judge me harshly, dear + mother; I know you will stretch out to me your forgiveness, and + still pray for me that I may receive pardon from _your_ heavenly + Father--would I could say _mine_. + + "Step by step I have been going wrong, as you know--as I might have + known--and now I have sunk to the lowest depths, from which I shall + never rise again. Mother, I know the sorrow you will feel when you + hear what has happened. I grieve more for you than I do for myself; + I would give all the world, if I had it, to save your heart the + misery which awaits it, from the conduct of a worthless, rebellious + son. + + "I cannot bear to see that sorrow. My heart seems nearly broken as + it is, and it would quite break if I were to see you suffering as + you will suffer. + + "I could not bear to see again any whom I have known under other + circumstances. I could not bear to be taunted with all the + remembrances of the past. Dear mother, I have resolved to leave + you--leave London--perhaps leave England. I _may_ never see you + again; it is better for you that I never should. + + "My tears blind me as I write; if tears could cleanse the past, my + guilt would be soon removed. God bless you, dearest mother! I will + write to you again; and some day, after I have been into new scenes, + started anew in life, and won back again the character I have + lost--then, perhaps, I may once more see you again. + + "Uncle Brunton will tell you more. He will comfort you; he must be + husband, brother, and son to you now. + + "God bless you, my dearest mother! I have so wronged you, have been + such a continual trouble to you, instead of the comfort poor father + thought I should have been, and so unworthy of your love, that I + hardly dare hope you will forgive and forget the past, and still + pray for + + "Your erring Son-- + + "GEORGE WESTON." + +George then wrote two letters to Mr. Brunton. In one of them he thanked +him for all his care and kindness, passionately regretted the causes of +anxiety he had given him, and the disgrace which now attached to his +name. In the other, he begged the loan of the L50 sent to him through +Hardy, which, he said, he hoped to pay back in a few years. He also +requested that Mr. Brunton would arrange all his accounts, and pay them +either from his mother's income, or by advancing the money as a loan. + +When the morning dawned, it found George still writing. As the clock +struck seven, he packed up what few things he had with him, paid his +hotel bill, and drove off to Falcon-court. He was there by eight +o'clock, before any of the clerks had arrived. + +"Have the letters come?" he asked the housekeeper. + +"Yes, sir, they are in Mr. Compton's room," was the answer. + +George hastened into the room, looked through the packet, and alighting +upon a letter with a foreign post-mark addressed to Mr. Sanders in Mr. +Compton's handwriting, he broke the seal. The note was short, merely +saying that he had arrived in Paris, on his way home, and expected to be +back in a day or two; therefore any communications must be forwarded at +once, or he would have left Paris. + +George went direct to the Electric Telegraph Office. A form was handed +to him, on which the message he desired to send must be written, and he +filled it up thus:-- + + "_From Mr. Sanders to Mr. Compton_. + + "Come back at once. A cheque has been forged in your name for + _L100._ George Weston is the forger. It is a clear and aggravated + case. Shall he be arrested? Will you prosecute? Answer at once." + +In an incredibly short space of time an answer was returned. George was +at the Telegraph Office to receive it. + + "_From Mr. Compton to Mr. Sanders._ + + "I will return to-morrow. Take no steps in the matter; let it be + kept silent, I am deeply grieved, but I will not prosecute under any + circumstances." + +"Well, Mr. Weston," said Mr. Sanders, when George entered the office," +I expected you would have been here before; but I suppose you have had +some difficulty in your investigations?" + +"I have had difficulty," George answered. "I have been endeavouring to +borrow a hundred pounds to pay the deficiency, and then I would have +screened the forger; but my plan has failed, and it is better that it +should, because the innocent would have been sure to have suffered for +the guilty. I am now bound to tell you the name of the criminal upon his +own confession." + +"Who is it? who is it?" asked Mr. Sanders, eagerly. + +"I--George Weston," he answered. "No matter how I did it, or why; I +alone am guilty." + +Mr. Sanders caught hold of the back of a chair for support. His hands +trembled, and his voice failed him. + +"It is a shock to you, sir," said George; "and it will be a shock to Mr. +Compton. Give him this letter when he comes home, it will explain the +circumstances to him. I deeply regret that I should have caused you so +much anxiety as I have during the past week, while this inquiry has been +pending. I knew the truth must come out sooner or later--but I would +rather you should know it from me; crushed and ruined as I am, I have no +hope that you will look with any other feelings than those of abhorrence +on me, but you do not know the heavy punishment I have already suffered, +or you would feel for me." + +"Are you aware, George Weston, that there is a yet heavier punishment, +and that, as Mr. Compton's representative, I shall feel it my painful +duty to--" + +"No, sir; here is Mr. Compton's opinion upon the case," said George, +handing the telegraphic message to Mr. Sanders, who listened with +astonishment as he explained the circumstances. "But should Mr. Compton, +upon a careful examination into the case, wish to prosecute," he +continued, "I will appear whenever and wherever he pleases. And now, Mr. +Sanders, I leave this office, ruined and disgraced, the result of my own +folly and sin." + +George spoke hoarsely, and his face was pale as Death. Mr. Sanders was +moved; and put out his hand to shake hands with him, and say good-bye, +but George held his back. + +"Remember, sir, you are an honest man; you cannot shake hands with me," +said George. + +"Weston, I am not your judge; there is One who will judge not only this +act, but all the acts that have led to it," said Mr. Sanders, solemnly. +"I have had more interest and greater hopes in you than in any young man +who ever came into this office; and I feel more sorrow now, on your +account, than I can put into words. Do not let this great and disastrous +fall sink you into lower depths of sin. If you have forfeited man's +respect and esteem, there is a God with whom there is mercy and +forgiveness. Seek Him, and may He bless you! Good-bye, George Weston," +and the manager, with tears in his eyes, wrung the cold, trembling hand +that was stretched out to his. + +George took up his carpet-bag, which he had brought from the hotel, and +was about to leave, but he paused a moment. + +"Will you send Hardy in here?" he asked Mr. Sanders. "I must have a word +with him before I go." + +Hardy had been expecting all the morning to have some explanation from +George, and had been uneasy at his absence. When he went into Mr. +Compton's room he was surprised to see George, with his bag in his hand, +ready to make a departure. + +"Hardy," said George, "I told you last night I should soon have to bid +you good-bye, and now the time has arrived. I am going away from the +office, and perhaps from England, but I cannot tell you where I am +going. I leave in disgrace; my once good name is now blighted and +withered; my old friends will look upon me with abhorrence." + +"No, George, I am one of your old friends; I never shall," interrupted +Hardy. "I do not know what you have done, nor do I wish to know, but I +cannot believe your heart and disposition are changed, or will ever +change so much as to make me regard you in any other light than that of +a dear and valued friend. But where are you going, George? Do tell me +that." + +"No, Hardy, I cannot. I am going away, God only knows where; it may be +abroad, it may not. I am going somewhere where I shall not be known, and +where I can try to work back for myself a character and a good name, +which I can never redeem in London. Some day I may let you know where I +am." + +"But, George, does your mother know where you are going?" + +"No," said George, and his voice was tremulous as he spoke. "No; I have +no mother now. I am too fallen to claim relationship with one so good +and noble and holy as my mother is." + +"Oh, George, give up this wild scheme! Have you thought that you are +going the most direct way to break your mother's heart, and to make her +life, as well as your own, blank, solitary, and miserable? Whatever +wrong you have done, do not add to it by breaking that commandment which +bids us honour our parents. Your mother has claims upon you which you +have no right to disregard in this way." + +"I have thought it all well over, Hardy. I believe it is for her good +as well as for mine that our paths should run differently, but I cannot +explain all now. I am in dread lest my uncle should call here before I +get away. Hardy, good-bye, old fellow." + +"No, I cannot say good-bye yet. George, give me your address; promise to +let me see you again, and I will promise to keep your secret sacredly." + +"I do not know where I am going; I have no fixed plan; but I do promise +to write to you, Hardy." + +"And now, George, make me one other promise. If you are in difficulties, +and I can assist you, or do anything for you in any way, at any time, +you will let me know--remember I shall always be Charles Hardy to you, +and you will always be George Weston to me. Do you agree?" + +"Yes, Hardy, I agree. I cannot thank you. I cannot say what I would, or +tell you what I feel. May you be blessed and be happy, and never know +what it is to have a heavy, broken heart like mine. And now one promise +from you. Go and see my mother; try and comfort her; tell her how I +grieve to part from her." + +George could not continue; the nervous twitching of his face showed the +struggle within, and it was a relief when the hot tears broke through +and coursed down his cheek. Hardy was greatly affected. He loved George +with an intensity of love like that which knit together the soul of +Jonathan and David; he had been to him more than a brother ever since +they had been acquainted; in hours of business and recreation, in joys +and sorrows, in plans and aims, they had been one; and now the tie was +to be severed, and severed under such sad circumstances. + +There is a solemnity about sorrow which speech desecrates. Not another +word was spoken by either--both hearts were too full for that; but as +the tears ran thickly down their cheeks, they grasped each other's hand, +and then, fairly sobbing, George hurried from the office. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +IN EXILE. + + +George went direct from the office to the railway station, and took a +ticket to Plymouth. He had but a short time to wait before the train +left, and bore him away. The green fields and smiling country were +nothing to him; he felt no pleasure in seeing the merry, happy children +playing in the lanes, as the train whizzed past. The greetings of +friends on the platforms at the different stations only made him sigh. +Who would greet him on his journeys? Tired and worn out with sleepless +nights and anxious days, he tried to doze, but the attempt was vain. He +feared lest some one might have tracked his steps to the station, and +have telegraphed for him to be stopped at the terminus. Then, when he +had thought and pondered over such probabilities as these, and +endeavoured to dismiss them, he tried to form some plans for the future; +but all the future was dark--no ray of light, however faint or distant, +could be seen, and every plan he would make must be left to +circumstances. When the passengers alighted at one of the stations to +take refreshments, George got out too, for the purpose of breaking his +long fast. He tried to eat a biscuit, but he could not get it down,--all +appetite was gone; so, drinking a glass of ale, he wandered to the book +stall, and purchased a newspaper to read during the remainder of the +journey. The train started off again, and George settled himself to +read. The first thing that met his eye was an account of the assizes, +and the first case was headed, "Forgery by a Banker's Clerk." This +brought back to remembrance, more vividly than ever, the sad scenes of +the past few days; he threw the paper out of the window, and abandoned +himself to thought. + +At last the train arrived at Plymouth. George hastened on to the +platform, and walked rapidly into the town, fearing lest any one should +recognize him, or lest any official should wish to detain him. With his +bag in hand, he wandered through the streets, uncertain what to do or +where to go. Presently he came to a small house, in an obscure street, +with a placard in the window stating that apartments were to let. He +knocked, and was answered by the landlady, a respectable looking woman, +who told him that she had a bedroom and sitting-room to let, and would +accommodate him on reasonable terms. George said he should not require +the room more than a few days, or a week, as he was about to leave by +one of the vessels in the port. The terms were arranged, and he at once +took possession. As it was very late, he thought he would go to bed +without delay. + +"Will you not have some supper first?" asked the landlady. + +"No, thank you," said George: "I am tired with my journey, and shall be +glad to get to sleep as soon as I can." + +"But, sir, you really look ill," persisted the landlady, who was a kind, +motherly woman; "will you let me make you a little spirits and water?" + +"I will not refuse that," said George, "for I do feel ill. Parting with +friends and relatives is at all times a disagreeable matter, and I have +bidden good-bye to them in London to-day, rather than bring them down +here." + +"Ah, sir! parting is a sad thing," answered the woman. "It is two years +since my son went to sea; he was much about your age, sir, and he went +away against my wish, and I have never seen or heard from him since. He +has nearly broken my heart, poor boy, and left me all alone in this +wide, hard world." + +George was glad to have some one to talk to, but he was distressed by +this narration of his landlady. If she mourned for her son, who had been +absent for two years, how would his mother mourn? + +George passed a restless, anxious night; when he dozed off to sleep, it +was only to be tormented with harrowing dreams, in which he fancied +himself at one time standing before a judge in a court of justice, +answering to the crime of forgery. At another, gazing upon a funeral +procession moving slowly and solemnly along, with his Uncle Brunton +following as sole mourner. Then he would start up, half with joy and +half with sorrow, as he fancied he heard voices like those of his mother +and uncle calling to him from the street. His head ached, and his heart +was heavy. He felt thankful when the morning dawned, and it was time to +rise. He bathed his hot, feverish head in water, and dressed; but as he +passed by the looking-glass and caught a glance at his pale, haggard +countenance, so changed within a few short hours, he started. + +"Oh, God! give me strength! give me strength!" he said. "If I should be +ill, if anything should happen to me, what should I do? I am all alone; +there is no one to care for me now!" And he sank down in a chair, +burying his face in his hands as if to hide the picture his mind had +drawn. + +After breakfast, he strolled to the docks, looked over some of the +vessels, and made inquiries about the shipping offices. He learned that +a ship was about to sail immediately to Port Natal, and that all +information could be obtained of the agents. Thither George repaired; +the agent gave him an exaggerated account of the signal prosperity which +all enterprising young men met with in Natal, praised Pietermaritzburg, +the capital of the colony, and offered to give him letters of +introduction to residents there, who would advise him as to the best +ways of making a comfortable living. The agent then took him down to the +vessel, told him that he must take a passage at once, if he wished to +leave by her, as she would sail in two or three days at the latest. It +was a matter of comparative indifference to George where he went--the +large, lonely world was before him, and Port Natal might make him as +good a home as anywhere else. George went back with the agent to the +office, and paid a deposit of fifteen pounds on the passage money. + +"What is your name, sir?" asked the agent, with pen in hand, ready to +make the entry. + +George coloured as he answered, "Frederick Vincent." + +"Then, Mr. Vincent, you will be on board not later than nine o'clock on +Tuesday morning; the vessel will go out of harbour by twelve. You can +come on board as much earlier as you like, but I have named the latest +time. You had better send your luggage down on Monday." + +"Luggage?" said George. "Oh, yes! that shall be sent in time." + +As George returned to his lodgings, he felt even more wretched than when +he started out It was Wednesday morning, and the vessel would not leave +till the following Tuesday. The excitement of choosing a vessel was +over; there was now only the anxiety and suspense of waiting its +departure. True, he had his outfit to purchase, but this would have to +be done furtively; he could not bear to be walking in the streets in +broad daylight, noticed by passers-by, every one of whom he fancied knew +his whole history, and was plotting either to prevent his departure, or +to reveal his secret. + +Mrs. Murdoch (that was the name of his landlady) endeavoured to make him +as comfortable as possible in his apartments; but external comfort was +nothing to George--he wanted some word of love, some one to talk to, as +in days of old. He avoided conversation as much as possible with Mrs. +Murdoch, for she would talk of her absent son, and every word went as an +arrow to George's heart. + +That first day seemed a week. Hour after hour dragged wearily along, and +when six o'clock in the evening came, George thought all time must have +received some disarrangement, for it seemed as if days had elapsed since +the morning. He went out after dark to a neighbouring shop and made some +purchases of outfit; but he was thankful when he had completed his task, +for he had noticed a man walking backwards and forwards in front of the +shop, and he felt a nervous dread lest it should be some spy upon him. +He resolved that he would remain in his rooms, and not go out again +until he left for the voyage on Tuesday, but would ask Mrs. Murdoch to +make the remainder of the necessary purchases for him. + +How lonely and desolate George felt that night! More than once he half +determined rather to bear shame and reproach, and have the society of +those he loved, than continue in that dreadful isolation. He was +thoroughly unmanned. "Oh, that Hardy or Ashton were here, or any friend, +just to say, 'George Weston, old fellow,' once more; what a weight of +dreariness it would remove!" Then he would wonder what was going on at +home, whether his mother was plunged in grief, or whether she was +saying, "He has brought it all on himself, let him bear it." But George +could not reconcile this last thought; he tried hard to cherish it; he +felt he would infinitely rather know his mother was filled with anger +and abhorrence at his crime, than that she mourned for him, and longed +to press him to her bosom and bind up the wounded heart. But he could +not shake off this last idea. It haunted him every moment, and added to +the weight of sorrow which seemed crushing him. + +Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed, and George was still the victim +to anxiety and corroding care. He had paced his room each day, and +tossed restlessly in his bed each night; had tried reading and writing, +to while away the time, and had found every attempt futile. + +Mrs. Murdoch was anxious on his account. + +"Mr. Vincent," she said to him, "you eat nothing, you take no exercise; +you don't sleep at night, for I can hear you, from my room, tossing +about; and I am doctor enough to know that you are ill, and will be +worse, if you do not make some alteration. Do be persuaded by me, and +take some little recreation, or else you will not be in a fit state to +go on board on Tuesday." + +"You are very kind, Mrs. Murdoch," replied George, "but I have no bodily +ailment. If I could get a change of thought, that is the best physic for +a mind diseased." + +"It is, sir," replied the landlady; "and now will you think me rude if I +tell you how you may have that change of thought? You are about to start +on a very dangerous voyage; for long months you will have the sky above +and the sea below, and only a few planks between you and death. Have +you, sir, committed your way to the Lord, and placed your life in His +hands? I know it is a strange thing to ask you, but I hope you will not +be offended. You have seemed so sad for the past day or two, that I +could not help feeling you wanted comfort, and none can give it but the +Heavenly Friend." + +"I do want comfort and support, Mrs. Murdoch, but--" + +"No, sir, there is no _but_ in the case. 'Come onto Me, all ye that are +weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest'--is said to all; and +we only have to go to Him to find all we want." + +"Well, Mrs. Murdoch, I will see if I cannot combine both your +suggestions; and as to-morrow will be Sunday, it will be a recreation to +go to some church or chapel. Can you recommend me a good preacher?" + +"Yes, sir, that I can. If you will go to my pew at chapel to-morrow +morning, I am sure you will like the gentleman who preaches there." + +"Then I will go," said George. + +When he went up to his room again, those few words of Mrs. Murdoch were +still speaking to him. + +"'Weary and heavy laden!' he thought; surely that is my lot. I so young, +once so happy, to feel weary and heavy laden; how strange! But no, it is +not strange--it is natural. Sin brings its punishment, and it is hard +work, bearing its burden! oh! that I could find some spot where I could +rest." + +There was a spot, not far from George, where he could have rested, but +he did not know it. He was oppressed with his weariness, and he longed +for peace and ease of mind to come to him. He did not consider the +words, "Come unto ME." + +There was an old Family Bible on the book-case in his room, and George +took it down. It was a long time since he had read the Word of God: and +when he had it was only to compare it with the dangerous opinions he had +received, and find out what he imagined to be its discrepancies and +contradictions. A feeling of remorse came over him as he put the book on +the table. + +"What right have I to open this book, or attempt to find anything here +for encouragement?" he asked himself. "I have mocked and ridiculed it in +days of prosperity, and yet I am willing to take it up in trouble, as if +it were an old friend. Ah! it was an old friend once, but that has all +gone by now." + +He sat a long time looking at the book. Perhaps there is nothing that +brings back the memories of the past more vividly than the sight of a +Family Bible to one who has long ceased to read and love it. There are +old scenes of childhood associated with it which time can never erase. +Who cannot remember sitting on his mother's knee, or with chair drawn up +beside his father, hearing its sweet music sounded in the home circle on +the Sabbath night? Who can forget the last evening of the holidays +before going back to school, when the old book was brought out, and some +useful text was selected as a monitor and remembrancer? Who can forget +the time when some loved one was ill, and as friends and relatives sat +round the bed of the invalid, the Book was laid upon the table, and +words of comfort were proclaimed to all. + +Many and many a scene moved past George in the mental panorama which the +sight of Mrs. Murdoch's book created. He seemed not to be remembering, +but to be living in the former days. There was his father seated in the +old arm-chair, with Carlo, the faithful dog at his feet, and his elbows +rented upon the table, and his head upon his hand--a favourite +attitude--as he read the Sacred Word. There was dear old Dr. Seaward, +with his spectacles stuck up on his forehead, in his study at +Folkestone, and a party of boys round him, listening eagerly to the +words of instruction and advice which fell from his lips. + +And then the past merged into the present, and George started to find +himself alone in a strange room, in a strange town, with a strange Bible +before him. + +He opened the Book and read. The fifty-first Psalm was the portion of +Scripture to which he inadvertently turned, commencing, "Have mercy upon +me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness; according unto the +multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions." + +He read the Psalm through in amazement. Again he read it, with +increased wonder and astonishment, that any one should have made a +prayer so exactly like that which he felt in his heart he wanted to +pray; and at last he went to the door and locked it, for fear of +interruption, took the Bible from the table and placed it on a chair, +and kneeling down read the prayer again; and repeating it aloud, +sentence by sentence, offered it up as his petition to the throne of +Mercy. + + * * * * * + +On Sunday morning, when the bells were ringing their glad peals, and the +people were already in the streets, on their way to the different places +of worship, George started off, directed by Mrs. Murdoch, to the chapel +of which she had spoken to him. + +He felt very sad as he walked along; it was the last Sunday, perhaps, he +should ever spend in England, and he must spend it alone, an alien from +all whom he loved. The temporary calm which he had experienced on the +previous evening had gone; no prayer for assistance through the day had +issued from his lips that morning, but there was the old feeling of +shame, and chagrin, and disgrace, which had haunted him for the past +week, and with it the dogged determination to bear up against it until +it should be lost in forgetfulness. But George had resolved to go to +chapel that morning, because he felt he wanted a change of some sort, +and there was a melancholy pleasure in spending a part of his last +Sunday in England after his once customary manner. + +The preacher was an old gentleman, of a mild, benevolent countenance, +and with a winning, persuasive manner. When he gave out the first hymn, +reading it solemnly and impressively, George felt he should have +pleasure in listening to the sermon. The congregation joined in the hymn +of praise, with heart and voice lifted up to the God of the Sabbath in +thanksgiving. The singing was rich and good, and George, who was a +passionate lover of music, was touched by its sweet harmony. He did not +join in the hymn, his heart was too full for that; but the strains were +soothing, and produced a natural, reverential emotion which he had been +long unaccustomed to feel. + +The minister took for his text the words, "'Lord, if thou wilt, thou +canst make me clean.' And Jesus put forth His hand, and touched him, +saying, 'I will, be thou clean.'" + +A rush of joy thrilled through George as he heard the words. His +attention was rivetted as he listened to the simple story of the leper +being restored to health; and when the preacher drew the comparison +between leprosy and sin, and revealed Jesus as the Great Physician to +the sick soul, who, in reply to the heartfelt wish, could say, "Thy +sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee," George felt the whole +strength of his soul concentrated in that one desire, "Lord, if thou +wilt, thou canst make _me_ clean." He looked into his own heart--he was +almost afraid to look--and saw the ravages of disease there. He thought +of his past life; there was not one thing to recommend him to God. +NEVER before had he seen his sin in the light in which it was now +revealed by God's Word. He had viewed it in relation to man's opinion, +and his own consciousness; but now the Holy Spirit was striving within +him, and showing him his position in the sight of God. + +The preacher went on to unfold the sweet story of the Cross, to tell of +the simple plan of salvation, and to point to Jesus, the Lamb of God, +"who taketh away the sins of the world." It seemed to George as if he +had never heard the glad tidings before; it had never made the hot tear +run down his cheek, as he thought of the Saviour suffering for sins not +His own, until now; it had never before torn the agonised sigh from his +heart, as the truth flashed before him that it was he who had helped to +nail the Holy One to the accursed tree; he had never realised before +that earth was but the portal to the heavenly mansions--that time was +but the herald of eternity. Now, all these things came crowding upon his +mind, and when the sermon concluded he was in a bewilderment of joy and +sorrow. + +A parting hymn was sung--that glorious old hymn-- + + "There is a fountain filled with blood, + Drawn from Emmanuel's veins." + +When it came to those lines-- + + "The dying _thief_ rejoiced to see + That fountain in his day; + And there may I, though vile as he, + Wash all my sins away:" + +he could bear it no longer: he could not restrain the torrent of tears +which was struggling to get free; he could not stay in that assembly of +people; he must be alone, alone with God, alone with his own heart. + +When he reached his apartments, he went immediately to his room, and +there, beside his bed, he knelt and poured out his soul to God. Words +could not tell his wants, words could not express his contrition; but +there he knelt, a silent pleader, presenting himself with all the dark +catalogue of a life's sin before his dishonoured God. + +George thought he had experienced the extremity of sorrow during the few +days he had been in Plymouth, but it was as nothing compared with that +he now felt. He had grieved over name and reputation lost, prospects +blighted, and self-respect forfeited, but now he mourned over a God +dishonoured, a Saviour slighted, a life mis-spent. Is there any sorrow +like unto that sorrow which is felt by a soul crushed beneath the sense +of sin? + +How that day passed, George hardly knew. He felt his whole life +epitomised in those few hours spent in solemn confession. Oh, how he +longed to realise a sense of pardon--to know and feel, as the leper knew +and felt, that he was made clean. But he could not do so: he only felt +himself lost and ruined, and found expression but in one cry, "Unclean! +unclean!" + +He was aroused in the evening by the ringing of church bells again; and, +taking a hasty cup of tea, at Mrs. Murdoch's solicitation, he once more +bent his steps to the place of worship he had visited in the morning, +with the earnest desire and prayer that he might hear such truths +taught as would enable him to see Jesus. + +How often does God "_devise means_ that His banished be not expelled +from Him," and in His providential mercy order those events and +circumstances to occur, which are instrumental in preparing the mind for +the reception of His truth! It was no chance, no mere coincidence, that +the preacher took for his text those words which were associated with so +many recollections of George, "_for me to live is Christ_." + +Simply, but earnestly, he drew pictures of life, in its many phases, and +contrasted them with the one object worth living for. Upon all else was +written, vanity of vanities--living for pleasure was but another name +for living for future woe: living for wealth was losing all; living for +honour was but heaping condemnation for the last day: while living for +Christ gave not only pleasure, and riches, and honour here, but +hereafter. Then he spoke of the preciousness of Jesus to those who +believe, as the sympathising Friend, and the loving Brother; of the +honour and joy of living for Him who had died to bring life and +immortality to light; and of that "peace which passeth understanding." + +That night there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over a +new-born soul. As George listened to the voice of the preacher, there +fell from his eyes as it had been scales, and he saw the Father running +to embrace the returning prodigal, and felt the kiss of His forgiving +love. The words which his earthly father had last spoken to him, were +those chosen by his heavenly Father to show him his new blissful +relationship as a son. And at what a gracious time! George was a +wanderer, an outcast, without father or friend, without object or aim in +life, and the doors of heaven were thrown open to him; the sympathy of +Divine love was poured into that aching heart, and the words of +rejoicing were uttered, "This, MY SON, was dead, and is alive again; was +lost, and is found." + +The weary one was at rest, the heart of stone palpitated with a living +breath, "The dead one heard the voice of the Son of God, and lived." + +Who can sympathise with George as he sat in his room that night, +overwhelmed with joy unspeakable? He was a new creature in a new world; +old things had passed away, behold all things had become new. He looked +up to heaven as his home, to God as his Father, to Jesus as his great +elder Brother; and he realised his life as hidden with Christ in God, +redeemed and reconciled, henceforth not his own, but given to Him who +had washed him, and made him clean in His own blood. + + * * * * * + +Great joy is harder to bear than great sorrow. George had suddenly gone +from one to the other extreme, and at a time when he was suffering from +physical prostration, the result of such strong mental struggles. + +"Mr. Vincent, it is nine o'clock," Mrs. Murdoch called out, as she +knocked at his door next morning. No answer was returned. + +"Mr. Vincent, will you come down to breakfast, sir?" she repeated more +loudly, but with no greater success. + +Again she knocked, wondering that George should sleep so soundly, and be +so difficult to arouse, as he was accustomed to answer at the first +call. + +"Mr. Vincent, breakfast is waiting!" + +No answer coming, Mrs. Murdoch was anxious; she knew George had been +really ill for several days past, and had noticed his strange manner on +the previous evening. Without further hesitation, she opened the door, +and there on the floor lay George Weston, insensible, having apparently +fallen while in the act of dressing. + +Calling for assistance, she at once laid him upon the bed, applied all +the restoratives at hand, and without a moment's delay despatched a +messenger to the chemist in the next street, with instructions for him +to attend immediately. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MAKING DISCOVERIES. + + +"Will you grant me leave of absence for to-day?" Charles Hardy asked Mr. +Sanders, a few minutes after George had left the office, on the gloomy +and eventful morning when he disclosed the secret of his guilt. + +"I hardly know what to say--what to do," answered Mr. Sanders, puffing +and blowing; "business will come to a stand-still--the shutters had +better go up at once. But if you want particularly to be off to-day, I +suppose I must manage to spare you." + +"I may want several days, sir; but if that should be the case, I will +return to the office to-morrow in time to see Mr. Compton immediately he +comes back" + +It was but the work of five minutes for Charles to write a short note, +change his office coat, and prepare to start The note was addressed to +Mr. Brunton, care of Mr. Sanders till called for, and ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR SIR, + + "Do not be more uneasy than necessary about George. I think I have a + clue by which his address may be ascertained. If so, I will report + progress to you to-night; but I leave this note for you, in order to + allay the distress you will feel in learning he is not here. Rest + assured of my earnest desire to serve my dear friend, and to relieve + him if possible. My time and services you may command in this cause. + In haste, + + "Yours very faithfully, + + "CHARLES HARDY." + +Hardy had a clue, it is true; but it was a very faint one. He had +noticed, upon the table of Mr. Compton's room, a "Bradshaw's Railway +Guide;" and as he had not seen one there previously, he imagined it must +have been brought in by George, with his carpet-bag and other things, +and there left. One page of the book was turned down; Hardy had eagerly +opened it, and found it referred to the departures from the Great +Western Station. + +"I'll go on at once to that station," he thought. "He told me he might +be leaving England; perhaps he has gone to Liverpool, Plymouth, or Cork, +or some shipping place that can be reached by this line. At all events, +I have no other chance but this." + +With all speed Charles drove off to Paddington. Diligently he conned +over the intricate mysteries of "Bradshaw" as he journeyed along, +endeavouring to ascertain when trains would be leaving for any of the +places to which he had imagined his friend might be going. It is hardly +necessary to say he could not find what he wanted; but his anxiety and +suspense were relieved by the search. + +Before alighting at the station, Hardy carefully glanced all around to +ascertain that George was not in sight; for it was not his intention to +speak to him or endeavour to turn him from his purpose, knowing that, in +his present excited state he would stand no chance whatever of +frustrating his friend's plans, but would rather be adopting the most +certain means of destroying his own. Hardy's present object was only to +try and find out to what part George would travel, and then communicate +with Mr. Brunton and get his advice how to proceed. + +Cautiously he walked along the platform, looking into every +waiting-room, and making inquiries of the porters it they had seen any +one answering to the description he gave of George. This course proving +futile, he went to the ticket-office, and consulted a time-table, to +find whether any train had recently left for any of the places which, he +felt convinced, were the most probable for George to choose. An hour or +two had elapsed since the last train left, and George had not had more +than twenty minutes' start ahead of him. He took down in his pocket-book +the time for the departure of the next train; and then choosing a +secluded spot in the office, where he would be out of observation, and +yet able to see all who came up for tickets, he waited patiently until +the slow, dawdling hand of the clock neared the hour. + +Hardy felt the chances were fifty to one that while he was waiting there +George might be at some other station, leaving London without a trace to +his whereabouts; he thought whether, after all, George might not have +purposely, instead of accidentally, left the "Bradshaw" with that +particular page turned down, in order that, should he be sought, a wrong +scent might be given; and even if he intended to travel by this line and +to one of these particular places, might he not choose nighttime as the +most desirable for his object? But Hardy had _purpose_ in him; he would +not throw away the strongest clue he had, although that was faint, and +he resolved to stay there until midnight, it need be, rather than +abandon his design, + +His patience was not put to such a test as this. While he was standing, +with palpitating heart, behind that door in the booking office, George +was in the porters' room, not a hundred yards off, waiting with deeper +anxiety for the clock to point to the hour when the train should start. +Presently, the first bell rang. A number of people, with bags and +packages in hand, came crowding up to the ticket office, but George was +not there. Hardy could scarcely refrain from rushing out to look around. +What if he should get into a train without a ticket, or send a guard to +procure one for him? A hundred doubts and fears were pressing upon him, +and--the second bell rang. Two or three minutes more, and the train +would be off. At the moment he was consulting his pocket-book to see how +long a time must elapse before the next train would leave, he started +with joyful surprise to see George walk hurriedly up to the office and +obtain a ticket. As hurriedly he disappeared. "Now is my chance," +thought Hardy. + +"Where did that young man take his ticket for?" he asked the clerk, as +soon as he had elbowed his way past the few remaining persons who were +before the window. + +"Which one?" said he; "two or three young men have just taken tickets." + +"I mean the last ticket but one you issued?" + +"Plymouth." + +"Hurrah!" cried Hardy, to the astonishment of the clerk, who probably +would not have given the information, had he not thought the inquirer +wanted a ticket for the same place. + +Hardy was too cautious, even in the moment of his surprise, to let his +object be lost by over-haste; he knew it would not be wise to let +himself be seen, and though he longed to rush after George and say, +"Good-bye, cheer up, old chap!" he only allowed himself the painful +pleasure of looking through the window of a waiting-room, and seeing his +old friend and chum, sad and solitary, get into the carriage. Shriek +went the whistle, and away went the train. Whether it whizzed along so +rapidly, or the smoke and steam enveloped it, or from whatever cause it +was, Charles Hardy found his sight growing dimmer, until a mist shut out +the scene. + +From the station Hardy went home. He wanted to tell his parents some of +the occurrences of the day, and let them know of his expected absence. +He knew that he had difficulties to meet. George had always been kindly +received by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy; they both liked him, and were glad when +he came to spend an evening at their house. But latterly they had been +rather anxious about the growing intimacy between him and their son, and +often had a word of caution been given that Charles should be very +careful how far he allowed his friend to influence him. + +Now Hardy could only tell his parents that George had got into worse +trouble than ever--such trouble that he was obliged to leave his +situation, and had decamped, no one except himself knew where. Of course +Mr. and Mrs. Hardy would not put a good construction upon the affair. He +anticipated they would say, "Well, I always feared he would come to +this;" and would try to dissuade Charles from having anything more to do +with him. It was not to be expected they would look with such leniency +upon the matter as he would. Therefore, it was with no small difficulty +he proceeded, immediately upon reaching home, to tell them of what had +occurred. It was a short story, and soon told. + +"Now, father," said Hardy, before allowing him time to bring objections +to the part he had performed that day, "I have promised Mr. Brunton to +assist in finding George, and I have told Mr. Sanders I may be away some +days from the office. I know Mr. Compton will not object to this; if +that is all, I can have this leave of absence instead of the holiday he +promised me next mouth. George must be found; if I can help it, he shall +not leave England--at all events, not in this way. I know it will kill +Mrs. Weston, if he does." + +"Well, Charles, I know your kindheartedness, and I appreciate it; but I +cannot give my consent to the plan. Recollect, by associating yourself +with your former friend now, you do injury to yourself; he has got +himself into disgrace--he must bear the burden of it. What will Mr. +Compton think, when he hears that you--you who have always maintained +such strict integrity--have gone off after a dishonest, runaway clerk?" + +"I never wish to run counter to your opinions, father, if I can help it; +but I must do so now, George Weston is my friend--not _was_ my friend, +as you said just now--and I would not act such a cowardly part as to +desert him. Don't be vexed at what I say; I know you advise for my good; +but you do not know how I feel in this matter. Suppose our positions +were changed, and I had done as George has done--there is no +impossibility in such a case--I am too weak against temptation to doubt +that had I been placed in the circumstances similar to his, I might have +done the same, Suppose I had, what would you have thought of me? Should +I have been your dishonest, runaway son, to whom all friendship must be +denied, and who might be left to bear any burden alone, because I had +brought it upon myself? No, father; you would be the first to seek and +comfort me, and the first to cry 'Shame!' upon any of my friends who +turned and kicked me the moment I had fallen." + +Mr. Hardy could not resist the force of his son's argument, nor could he +refrain from admiring the genuineness of his friendship for George, and +the manly determination he had formed to assist him. + +"Well, Charles," he said, "I do not blame you for taking this course. I +hope it may be serviceable to your friend, and without any injury to +yourself." + +"Do not fear, father. And now I must pack up a few necessaries in my +bag, and be off to Mr. Brunton's. If I do not return home to-morrow, do +not be uneasy about me, and I will write to you every day to say how +things are going on." + +When Hardy arrived at the house of Mr. Brunton, he found him, as he +anticipated, in a high state of nervous anxiety. + +"I am so thankful you have arrived, Mr. Hardy," he said, shaking him +warmly by the hand: "and I need not tell you Mrs. Weston has been +waiting with great impatience to see you." + +"Mrs. Weston! is she here?" + +"Yes; not many minutes after you had left the office I called there, and +received the sad news about--about George. I at once telegraphed to Mrs. +Weston to come up to town, and it needed no urging to hasten her, for +she had only a short time before received a letter from him, which had +filled her with alarm. But let us go to her at once," said Mr. Brunton, +leading the way to the drawing-room; "she entreated I would bring you to +her the moment you arrived." + +As Hardy entered, Mrs. Weston sprang to meet him. + +"Have you found George?--where is he?" she asked, and the look of +struggling hope and despair was touching to witness. + +"I have not found him, Mrs. Weston, but I know the place of his present +destination. He has gone to Plymouth;" and then Hardy briefly explained +the incidents of the morning. + +"I cannot tell you how thankful I am to you, Mr. Hardy," said Mrs. +Weston, as he concluded. "May God bless you for your kindness to my pool +George!" + +"George would have done more for me, Mrs. Weston," Hardy replied; "but, +at present, little or nothing has been done. Have you any plans, and can +I help you in them?" + +"We must go on as soon as possible to Plymouth, and find out where he +is. He may perhaps be on the eve of starting away by some of the vessels +in the port. Not a minute should be lost." + +"Then, sir, I will go down to Plymouth by the mail train which leaves in +about a couple of hours, if you will let me; and I promise you that I +will do my best to find him," said Hardy. + +This unexpected proposition removed an infinite burden from Mr. +Brunton's mind. He felt that it was his duty to see Mr. Compton at once, +and he had other engagements which made it impossible for him to leave +that night. He did not like Mrs. Weston travelling alone, in her present +anxious and desponding state, and had been at his wit's end all day to +know how to manage. + +"But, Mr. Hardy, can you go? Have you consulted your friends at home? +Can you manage to get leave of absence from the office?--remember they +will be short of hands there," asked Mr. Brunton. + +"I have made all arrangements at home, sir and my only difficulty is +about Mr. Compton. But if you will please see him as soon as he returns, +and explain why I have left, I am sure he will not be displeased. He was +so fond of George, I know he would have said 'Go, by all means,' had he +been at home." + +"I will undertake to set the matter right with him about you," said Mr. +Brunton; "but I doubt whether he will ever allow me to mention poor +George's name. Oh! Hardy, this is a sad, sad business!" + +"It is, sir; but it is sadder for George than for his friends," replied +Hardy. "I cannot bear to think of the trouble he is passing through at +this moment. It has cost him much to take the step he has taken, and +everything must be done to get him back from his voluntary banishment" + +"And everything shall be done that can," said Mr. Brunton. "God grant he +is still in England! I feel sure the sight of his mother and his friends +sorrowing for him, instead of turning against him as he supposes, will +alter his determination." + +"Mr. Hardy, may I place myself under your protection until my brother +joins us at Plymouth?" said Mrs. Weston, abruptly. "I will go down by +the mail train to-night; I cannot rest until he is found." + +Arrangements were speedily made, and that night the train bore off Mrs. +Western and Charles Hardy to Plymouth. + +On the following morning Mr. Brunton called at Falcon-court. Mr. Compton +had not yet arrived, but was expected hourly. Not wishing to lose time, +which that morning was particularly precious to him, he asked for some +writing materials, and seating himself in Mr. Compton's room, intended +to occupy himself until his arrival. After he had been there about +half-an-hour, his attention was arrested by hearing the door of the +clerk's office open, and an inquiry made. + +"Is Mr. George Weston here?" + +"Mr. Weston has left the office," answered Williams, who came forward to +answer the inquiry. "Left yesterday morning." + +"Indeed! Where has he gone to? why did he leave?" + +"I don't think anyone knows where he has gone to," answered Williams; +"and I am not disposed to say why he left." + +Williams did not know why he had left, nor were the circumstances of the +case known to any of the clerks; but many surmises had been made which +were unfavourable to him, and it was with the exultant pleasure a mean +spirit feels in a mean triumph, that Williams had at last an opportunity +of speaking lightly of the once good name of George Weston, to whom he +had ever cherished feelings of animosity. + +"Is Mr. Compton in, or the manager?" asked the visitor. "I am +exceedingly anxious to know what has become of my friend." + +"Between ourselves," said Williams, "the less you say about your friend +the better. It strikes me--mind, I merely give you this confidentially +as my impression--that, when Weston turns up again, his friends will not +be over-anxious to renew their acquaintance." + +"What do you mean? I do not understand you." + +"What I mean is this. When a clerk is dismissed from an office during +the absence of the principal, leaves suddenly and has to hide +himself--more particularly when accounts at the banker's do not quite +balance--one cannot help thinking there is a screw loose somewhere." + +Mr. Brunton overheard all this; he who had never before heard an +unfavourable sentence spoken against his nephew. He had not fully +realised until that moment the painful position in which George's crime +had placed him, nor the depth of his nephew's fall in position and +character. He longed to have been able to stand up in vindication of +George against the terrible insinuations of Williams; he would have been +intensely thankful if he could have accosted the stranger, and said, +"That man is guilty of falsehood who dares to speak against the good +name of my nephew." But there he stood, with blood boiling and lips +quivering, unable to contradict one sentence that had been uttered. + +"If Weston _does_ turn up," continued Williams, "will you leave any +message or letter, or your name, and it shall be forwarded?" + +"My name is Ashton," said the stranger; "but it is unnecessary to say +that I called. It does not do to be mixed up with matters like these. I +half feared something of the sort was brewing, but I had no idea tilings +would have taken so sudden a turn." + +Mr. Brunton could restrain his impatience no longer. + +"Mr. Ashton," he said, coming suddenly upon the speakers, "will you +favour me by stepping inside a minute or two? I shall be glad to speak +to you." + +Ashton was taken by surprise at seeing Mr. Brunton where he least +expected to see him. + +"I have been placed in the uncomfortable position of a listener to your +conversation in the next room," said Mr. Brunton, closing the door; "and +I cannot allow those remarks made by the clerk with whom you were +talking to pass unqualified." + +"They need little explanation, sir," said Ashton. "George Weston has +been on the verge of a catastrophe for some months, and I believe I can +fill in the outline of information which you heard given me." + +"I am in ignorance of the causes which have led to my nephew's +disgrace," answered Mr. Brunton; "nor am I desirous to hear them from +any lips but his. You were one of his most intimate friends, I believe, +Mr. Ashton?" + +"Yes; I think I may say his most intimate friend." + +"And you knew he was on the 'verge of a catastrophe.' I have no doubt +you acted the part of a friend, and sought to turn his steps from the +fatal brink?" + +"Well, as to that, he was fully competent to manage his own affairs +without my interference. I did tell him he would come to grief, if he +did not give up playing." + +"And did you add to that advice that he should quit those associates +who had assisted to bring him to such a pass?" + +"Certainly not; why should I meddle with him in his companionships? You +speak, Mr. Brunton, as if I were your nephew's keeper. If George Weston +liked to live beyond his means, he was at liberty to do it for me. I am +sorry he made such a smash at last, but it is all that could be +expected. If ever you see George again, sir, you will oblige me by +conveying one message. I did not think when he came to me, two nights +ago, to try and borrow a hundred pounds, that he intended to mix me up +in any disgraceful business like that of this morning. Had I known it, +instead of fretting myself about his welfare, he should have--" + +"Made the discovery," interrupted Mr. Brunton, "that he never had a +friend in you. My idea of a friend is one who seeks the well-being of +another; speaks to him as a second conscience in temptation; loves with +a strength of attachment which cannot be broken; and, though sorrowing +over error, can still hope and pray for and seek to restore the erring. +Mr. Ashton, I do not wish to say more upon this matter; it is painful +for me to think how my nephew has been led downward, step after step, by +those whom he thought friends, and how sinfully he has yielded. When +you think of him, recollect him as the boy you knew at school, and try +to trace his course down to this day. You know his history, his +companionships, his whole life. Think whether _you_ have influenced it, +and how; and if your conscience should say, 'I have not been his +friend,' may you be led by the remembrance to consider that no man +liveth to himself: and that for those talents and attractions with which +you are endowed, you will have hereafter to give account, together with +the good or evil which has resulted from them." + +To Ashton's relief the door opened, and Mr. Compton entered. Hastily +taking up his hat, he bade adieu to Mr. Brunton, glad of this +opportunity to beat a retreat. + +"Confound those Methodists!" he uttered to himself, as he walked up +Fleet-street; "speak to them, they talk sermons; strike them, and they +defend themselves with sermons; cut them to the quick, and I believe +they would bleed sermons. But why should he pounce upon me? What have I +done? A pretty life George would have led if it hadn't been for me, and +this is all the thanks I get. I wish to goodness he had not made such a +fool of himself; I shall have to answer all inquiries about him, and it +is no honour to be linked in such associations." + +The meeting between Mr. Compton and Mr. Brunton was one of mingled +feelings of pain and mortification. One had lost a valuable clerk, for +whom he cherished more than ordinary feelings of regard, and upon whom +he had hoped some day the whole management of the business would +devolve; the other had lost almost all that was dear to him on earth, +one whom he had watched, and loved, and worked for, and to whose bright +future he had looked forward with increasing pleasure, until it had +become a dream of life. Both were aggrieved, both were injured; but both +felt, in their degree, such strong feelings in favour of George, despite +his disgrace and crime, that they could look with more sorrow than anger +on the offender, and deal more in kindness than in wrath. + +Mr. Compton could not but agree with Mr. Brunton that he must be +discovered, if possible; and although he could never receive him under +any circumstances into his office again, nor could ever have for him the +feelings he once entertained, still he felt free to adhere to his first +determination not to prosecute or take any steps in the case, nor allow +it to have more publicity than could be helped. + +"He is still young," said he; "let him try to redeem the past. But it +is right he should feel the consequences of his actions, and no doubt he +will, as he has to encounter the difficulties which will meet him in +seeking to retrieve the position he has lost. You know me too well, +Brunton, to imagine that I do not estimate aright the extent of his +guilt; and you will give me credit for possessing a desire to do as I +would be done by in this case. I believe many a young man has been +ruined through time and eternity, by having been dealt with too +harshly--though in a legal sense quite justly; at the same time it has +been the only course to check a growing habit of crime in others. I know +well that in some instances it would be a duty to prosecute, if only as +a protection from suspicion of upright persons. But there are +exceptional cases, and I consider this to be one of them, although +perhaps many of our leading citizens might think me culpable in my +clemency; but I think I know your nephew sufficiently well to be +warranted in the belief that he feels his criminality, and will take a +lasting warning from this circumstance. And now, what do you intend to +do, since you know my determination?" + +Mr. Brunton explained the plans he had formed, and the valuable +assistance which Hardy had rendered him. He was pleased to hear from his +injured friend the heartily expressed wish that the end in view might be +accomplished. Mr. Brunton had surmounted one great difficulty, and he +could not feel sufficiently thankful at the issue. Although he had known +Mr. Compton for many years, and had seen innumerable evidences of his +benevolence and good nature, he knew, too, that he was the very +personification of honesty and uprightness; and he dreaded lest, +incensed against George for his ingratitude, and fearing the influence +of his conduct might spread in the office, he would take measures +against him which, although perfectly just, would, by their severity, +prove deeply injurious in such a case, and reduce George, who was +naturally sensitive of shame, to a position from which he might never be +restored. + +At the very earliest opportunity Mr. Brunton went down to Plymouth. +Business of the greatest importance, which he could not set aside, had +detained him in London until Friday, and his uneasiness had been +increased during that time by two notes he had received--one from Mrs. +Weston, and the other from Hardy--telling him of the unsuccessful issue +of their search. With an anxious heart he alighted at the station at +Plymouth, and walked to the hotel, where his sister and Hardy were +staying. The look of despair he read in Mrs. Weston's countenance, as +they met, told him that no favourable result had been obtained. + +"We have been everywhere, and tried every possible plan to find poor +George," she said, when Mr. Brunton sat down beside her and Hardy to +hear the recital of their efforts. "I should have broken down long ago, +had it not been for our dear friend here, who has been night and day at +work, plotting schemes and working them out, and buoying me up with +hopes in their result. But I feel sure George cannot be in Plymouth, and +our search is vain." + +"So Mrs. Weston has said all along," said Hardy; "but I cannot agree +with her; at all events, I will not believe it until we find out where +he has gone. He has not taken a passage in any of the vessels, as far as +we can ascertain; he is not in any of the inns in the town, I think, for +we have made the most searching inquiries at all of them; but in this +large place it is difficult to find any one without some positive clue." + +"Have you been able to find out whether he really arrived here?" asked +Mr. Brunton. + +"I think I have. One of the porters rather singularly recollected a +person, answering to the description, arriving by the train in which +George left London. It seems he was hastening away from the station +without giving up his ticket No doubt he was nervous and absent in mind; +and when the porter called to him, he started and seemed as if he were +alarmed: but in a minute he produced his ticket and went out The porter +looked suspiciously, I suppose, at the ticket, and evidently so at +George, for he was able to give a full description of him." + +"That is so far satisfactory," said Mr. Brunton; "but have you made any +more discoveries to render you tolerably sure he is still in Plymouth." + +"Yes, I have been to every shop where they fit out passengers for a sea +voyage, and have found out one where he purchased some articles of +clothing. But the clearest trace I have of him is from the shipping +agents. He was certainly looking over vessels on the morning after his +arrival here, for one or two captains have described him to me. I have +been a great many times down among the shipping, but have not made more +discoveries, and I cannot get any information from the shipping offices; +but in this you will probably meet with more success, sir, than I have, +for a young man is not of sufficient importance to command attention +from business men." + +Mr. Brunton was fully conscious of the difficulties which were in the +way of finding George, even supposing he was still in Plymouth: but he +was not without hope. He could not find words enough to express his +strong approbation of all that Hardy had done, and he felt sure that he +could have no better assistant in the undertaking than he. A series of +plans were soon formed: Hardy was to keep watch upon those vessels which +he thought it probable George might choose, and offer rewards to sailors +and others for information. Mr. Brunton was to try and discover the +names and descriptions of passengers booked at the shipping offices; and +Mrs. Weston was to keep a general lookout on outfitters' warehouses, and +other places where it might be probable George would visit. + +But every plan failed. Saturday night came, and, worn out with fatigue, +the anxious trio sat together to discuss the incidents of the day, and +propose fresh arrangements for the morrow. Sunday was not a day of rest +to them; from early morning they were all engaged in different +directions in prosecuting their search, and not until the curtain of +night was spread over the town, and the hum of traffic and din of bustle +had ceased, did they return to the hotel. + +After supper, Mr. Brunton took out his pocket Bible, and read aloud some +favourite passages. They seemed to speak with a voice of hope and +comfort, and inspired fresh faith in the unerring providence of Him who +doeth all things well. + +Very earnest were the prayers offered by that little party, as they +knelt together and commended the wanderer, wherever he might be, to the +care and guidance of the good providence of God. They felt how useless +were all plans and purposes unless directed by a higher source than +their own; and while they prayed for success upon the efforts put forth, +if in accordance with His will, they asked for strength and resignation +to bear disappointment Nor were their prayers merely that he whom they +were seeking might be found, but that he might find pardon and +acceptance with God, and that the evil which they lamented might, in the +infinitely wise purposes of Providence, be controlled for good. + +With fresh zeal and renewed hope the three set forth on the following +morning to prosecute their several plans. Hardy had learned that one or +two vessels would sail that day, and he was full of expectation that he +might meet with some tidings. + +Mr. Brunton felt rather unwell that morning--the press of business which +had detained him in London, the excitement of the journey, and the +fatigue of the previous days, had told upon his health. As he was +passing through a quiet part of the town, he called in at an +apothecary's to get a draught, which he hoped might ward off any serious +attack of sickness. While the draught was being prepared, Mr. Brunton, +who was intent upon his object and never left a stone unturned, +interrogated the apothecary, a gentlemanly and agreeable man, upon the +neighbourhood, the number of visitors in that locality, and other +subjects, ending by saying he was trying to discover the residence of a +relative, but without any knowledge of his address. + +In the midst of the conversation, a servant-girl, without bonnet or +shawl, came hurriedly into the shop, out of breath with running. + +"Oh, sir, if you please, sir, missus says, will you come at once to see +the young gentleman as stays at our house?--he's taken bad." + +"Who is your mistress, my girl?" asked the chemist. + +"Oh, sir, it's Mrs. Murdoch, of ---- Street; and the young gentleman is +a lodger from London, and he's going away to-morrow to the Indies or +somewheres; but do come, sir, please--missus'll be frightened to death, +all by herself, and him so dreadful bad." + +Mr. Brunton had been an anxious listener. Was it possible that the young +gentleman from London could be George? + +"How long has your lodger been with you?" he asked the girl. + +"A week come Wednesday--leastways, come Tuesday night,"--was the +accurate answer. + +Mr. Brunton, with eyes flashing with excitement, turned to the medical +man. "Will you allow me to accompany you on this visit?" he asked; "I +have reason to believe that your patient may be the relative for whom I +am searching." + +"Then come, by all means," answered the doctor; and, preceded by the +girl, who was all impatience to get home, and kept up a pace which made +Mr. Brunton puff lustily, they reached the house of Mrs. Murdoch. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE SICK CHAMBER. + + +The sun had gone down, and the twilight was fast losing itself in night. +The pale moon was struggling to look out upon the world through the +dark, heavy clouds which had collected around, as if expressly to +prevent this purpose. The hum of traffic in the street had ceased, and +the only sounds that came in at the open window were strains of music, +and the confused clamour of voices from a neighbouring tavern. The room +was a picture of neatness. The bed was draped in snowy furniture, and +the coverlid bore evidence of good taste and the ingenuity of +industrious hands. The mantlepiece was adorned with a few photographs +and a vase of fresh-gathered flowers. + +Upon a table in the corner of the room stood a lamp, with a green shade +over it to screen the light from the bed. Beside it were bottles, +phials, and other appliances of a sick chamber. + +A group stood round the bed, watching, with thrilling anxiety, the face +of the doctor as he held the inanimate hand of George Weston. + +You might have heard the ticking of his watch as he stood there and +gazed in the face of the patient, while Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton and +Charles Hardy waited motionless, almost breathless, to hear his verdict. + +"It is a more serious case than I imagined at first," said the doctor; +"I do not wish unnecessarily to alarm you, but it is my duty to say that +the condition of the patient is one of great danger, but I trust not +past recovery." + +"What is the nature of the illness--tell me candidly?" asked Mr. +Brunton, when he could command speech. + +"Brain fever," was the laconic answer. + +For a long time George Weston lay in that awful state which is neither +death nor life--when the spirit seems to be hovering round the body, +uncertain whether to wing its flight for ever from the tenement of +earth, or return to sojourn still longer in its old familiar +dwelling-house. Sometimes he would rave in the frenzy of madness, and +then sink in exhaustion with scarcely the power to draw a breath. + +Never was a sick-bed tended with greater care than his. Night after +night Mrs. Weston sat beside him, bathing the fevered head and cooling +the parched lips. Nor would she leave that post for a moment, until Mr. +Brunton was obliged to insist upon her taking rest. + +"Reserve your strength," he said; "we know not what is before us; it may +be--but we have nothing to do with the future," he added, interrupting +himself; "that must be left in His hands." + +Hardy was not able to remain in Plymouth longer than Wednesday. Mr. +Compton had written to him to say that, being short of hands, he was +very much pressed in business, and now that the main object of his +journey had been attained--for Mr. Brunton communicated with him almost +immediately--he should be glad if he would return as soon as possible. + +As he stood beside the bed of George Weston on the morning of his +departure, and gazed into those pale and haggard features, which had +always beamed with a friendly smile for him, but which he might never +see again, he could not restrain the impulse of clasping his hand, and +uttering solemnly the prayerful wish, "God preserve and bless you, +George!" + +The words were not heard by George--his ears were closed in dull +insensibility--but they were caught by Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston, who +that moment entered the room, and Hardy was startled to hear the earnest +response to his prayer in their united "Amen!" + +"And that prayer shall ever be offered for you, Charles," said Mrs. +Weston; "I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid. I +shudder to think of what would have happened, had it not been for your +kind, noble, manly friendship. Poor George would have suffered in this +lonely place, away from all who loved him, and without proper care, +perhaps have died--died afoot." + +"You do not know how thankful I feel, Mrs. Weston, that our efforts have +not been in vain. Pray write to me every day, to say how he is going +on--if it is only just one line; and should there be any change for +the--for the better, do let me know at once, that I may come down again, +if only for a day, just to congratulate him." + +"And if there is another change--a change for the worse?" asked Mrs. +Weston, tearfully. + +"Write, telegraph--pray let me know somehow," answered Hardy. "I could +not bear to part with him without telling and showing him there was one +of his old friends who loved him to the last. Good-bye, dear Mrs. +Weston; do not over-tax your strength, and keep up a good heart; depend +upon it, there are yet happy days for you and for George." + +Mrs. Weston sadly missed her young friend after his departure. His +hopeful spirits had helped to buoy up her expectations and assuage the +sorrows of the present. It seemed as if the sun had hidden itself and +the stars had refused their light during those long days when the mother +sat watching at the bedside of her son. Mr. Brunton tried in every way +to relieve her, but his own heart was heavy, and the two felt more at +home in talking dolefully over the bad symptoms of the patient than in +looking forward to the future. + +But a day came when the strength of the fever abated, and reason +returned to her long vacant throne. + +It was toward evening: Mrs. Weston was sitting beside the bed, busily +stitching away at her work, and Mr. Brunton was resting his head upon +his hands as he turned over the pages of a book which he was trying to +deceive himself into the belief he was reading, when a deep sigh caused +them both to suspend their occupation. + +George raised himself up in bed, and gazed round the room. The +furniture screened the two watchers, and he fancied himself alone. He +raised a pillow at his back, and reclining upon it in the placid calm of +exhaustion, with his face turned toward the open window, watched the +clouds as they crossed the blue expanse, and indulged in a half +conscious reverie. Where had he been? Where was he? Had he passed the +dark valley of the shadow of death, and were there angel forms in those +snow-white clouds beckoning him away? What was that confused sound which +rang in his ears? Was it the murmuring of the dark stream as it washed +upon the untrodden shore? + +No: there was the little room where he had taken his lodgings; there was +the green paper on the wall with the large grape clusters; there was the +sound of human voices in the street And the consciousness that he was +alive, restored, flashed upon him with something of the bewildering +astonishment and joy which Lazarus must have felt when he heard the +words, "Come forth." + +Too weak to rise, he was not too weak to pray. Clasping his hands +together, and gazing up into the clear blue sky, from whence all clouds +were now dispersing, he poured out his overflowing heart in +thanksgiving. + +He spoke with God. The tremulous voice gained strength, the power of +faith and hope grew intensified, and he prayed with that love and +fervour which the grateful child of a heavenly Parent can only feel. + +Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton were paralyzed with astonishment; +instinctively they shrank from disturbing that solemn time by coming +forward to speak with George and letting him recognise them; but with a +united impulse, both quietly and solemnly knelt down and joined in the +song of thanksgiving. + +Theirs was joy unspeakable; tears poured down both faces, and hushed +sobs of rejoicing burst from their hearts. All their prayers and earnest +longings had been answered; all their sorrow was turned into joy; and +that Friend of friends, whose delights are with the children of men, had +ordered, according to the tender mercy of His loving heart, all the evil +into overwhelming good. + +Presently the voice ceased; and, exhausted with the effort, George lay +down in calm and blissful tranquillity to sleep. + +As Mrs. Weston rose from her knees, her dress touched a book on the +table, which fell to the ground. George was roused by the sound, and, +trying to draw aside the curtain, said,-- + +"Is that you, Mrs. Murdoch?" + +Mrs. Weston, although dreading the consequences of excitement, could +restrain no longer the yearning of her motherly heart to embrace her +son. + +"No, George, my dearest boy, it is your mother." + +"Mother! mother!" cried George, with the old former-day voice of love +and joy, passionately kissing the face of beaming happiness bent over +him, "Thank God you are here!" + +From that day George began rapidly to improve. The excitement produced +by the discovery that he had been sought and found, instead of doing him +injury, relieved his already-oppressed mind from a weight of care. Every +day brought fresh strength, and as he sat up in bed, carefully propped +up by pillows, with his uncle on one hand and his mother on the other, +he told them all the sorrowful and joyful details of his strange +experiences until the eventful morning when his strength gave way. + +"This is beginning life afresh, in every sense," he said; "here am I, a +poor mortal, almost helpless, just strong enough to know how weak I am; +and before me--if my life is spared--lies an untrodden path. But I begin +my restored life, through God's infinite mercy, with a new inner life; +and He who has given me that, will, I know, freely give me all things +that shall be for my good." + +Mrs. Weston never knew the fulness of joy before those days. Her only +son, in whom all her brightest earthly hopes were centred, had ever been +a source of deep anxiety to her. Her never-ceasing prayer had been that +he might be what he now was--a child of her Father; and in the +realization of her heart's desire she found such joy unspeakable, that +all the cares and troubles of long, weary years seemed as though they +had not been. + +George was soon sufficiently restored to be able to leave his bed and +sit up for a few hours on the sofa. The day for this trial of strength +having been definitely fixed by the doctor, Mrs. Weston wrote at once to +Hardy, inviting him, if he could manage to get away, to come down and +celebrate the event. + +The meeting between the two friends was as joyful as their parting had +been sorrowful. + +"George, my dear old boy," said Hardy, as he shook him by the hand, "it +does my eyesight good to see you again." + +"And it does my heart good to see you, old fellow," replied George, as +he returned the pressure. "You don't know how I have longed for your +coming, that I might tell you how deeply grateful I am to you for all +your brotherly love--" + +"Good-bye, George," said Hardy, taking up his hat and buttoning his +coat; "I won't stay another minute unless you give over talking such +stuff What I've done! Why, if my pup, Gip, were to run away, I should do +for him what I have done for you--no more, no less. So let us drop the +subject, that's a good fellow, and then I'll sit down and chat with +you." + +Never was there a pleasanter chat by any little party than by that which +assembled in Mrs. Murdoch's best parlour that evening. All hearts were +full of thankfulness, and though there were some painful subjects +discussed, yet the joyful ones far more than counterbalanced them. + +Mr. Brunton found out, in the course of the evening, that he had +something very important to do, and probably Mrs. Weston discovered her +assistance was needed as well, for the friends found themselves, after a +while, alone, which was what they both wanted. + +"You have heard, Hardy, of all the strange things that have happened to +me?" George began, hesitatingly. "I should like to be able to tell you +all about them; but, somehow, I don't know how to put such matters into +words." + +"You mean, George, that one great, solemn, joyful event which has made +your life now something worth living for," said Hardy, relieving him of +a difficulty. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know it. The past two +years have been funny ones to both of us. Religion has been ground on +which we have not been able to tread together, as you know: but, thank +goodness, that has all gone by. Now, I must tell you my mind, George," +he continued, in that frank, manly way which was so natural to him; "I +never gave you credit for sincerity when you took up with those strange +notions which were so dangerous to you. I believed then that they were +convenient principles, which might be stretched and made to agree with +the dictates of your inclination. I do not say you did not believe what +you professed, but I always thought that you forced yourself into that +belief by self-deception. Now, wait, don't interrupt me. I know what you +are going to say; but whatever harm you did to others--God only knows +that--I do not think your change in sentiment did any harm to me! For +this reason--I saw you were not straightforward with your own heart, and +I felt sure you slighted that pure and holy religion in which we had +been instructed from childhood, not because in your heart of hearts you +disbelieved it, but because it condemned that course of conduct which +you were pursuing. Now, was it not so?" + +"Yes, Hardy, you are right. I can trace out now the processes of thought +through which I passed, to lead me to think and act as I did; and I +never knew before what a wretchedly poor thing a morally endowed, +intelligent human being is in his own strength. I did not know how weak +I was. I did feel sometimes oppressed with the idea that I was willingly +blindfolding myself--but, somehow, an argument was always at hand to +weigh down this feeling. But tell me why you think my endeavours to make +you believe as I did never did you injury? God grant they may not to +others." + +"Why, when I observed you, as I tell you I did, it was impossible for me +not to be on my guard. Nay, more, this question tormented me daily, 'You +believe George disregards religion, because it condemns him; if you +regard that religion, but do not practise it, does it not condemn you?' +Now this was a home-thrust, George, which I could not parry off. I tried +to determine not to be such a cowardly, mean-spirited creature as to try +and cheat God by pretending to believe Him, and yet fight under false +colours against Him; and so I gave up many of my old habits, and tried +to start afresh. And now, George, you don't know how thankful I am that +you are different to what you were. We have studied many things +together, joined in many plans and purposes; and now I hope we shall be +able to study the highest and best thing in earth or heaven--what God's +will is, and how to do it." + + * * * * * + +That desire became the watchword of their lives. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE IN LONDON *** + +***** This file should be named 9940.txt or 9940.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/4/9940/ + +Produced by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Life in London + +Author: Edwin Hodder + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9940] +[This file was first posted on November 2, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LIFE IN LONDON *** + + + + +E-text prepared by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + +LIFE IN LONDON + +OR, THE PITFALLS OF A GREAT CITY + +BY EDWIN HODDER, ESQ. + +1890. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + I. THE INTRODUCTION + + II. SCHOOL-BOY DAYS + + III. STARTING WELL + + IV. MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW + + V. A FARCE + + VI. THE LECTURE + + VII. GETTING ON IN THE WORLD + +VIII. A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP + + IX. IN EXILE + + X. MAKING DISCOVERIES + + XI. THE SICK CHAMBER + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE INTRODUCTION. + + +Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street in +Islington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience, +until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon the +panels. + +"Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as he +hurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron on +and sleeves tucked up, was busy in her domestic affairs. "Such splendid +news!" repeated George. "I have been down to Mr. Compton's with the +letter Uncle Henry gave me, in which he said I wanted a situation, and +should be glad if Mr. Compton could help me; and, sure enough, I was +able to see him, and he is such a kind, fatherly old gentlemen, mother. +I am sure I shall like him." + +"Well, George, and what did he say!" + +"Oh! I've got ever so much to tell you, before I come to that part. The +office, you know, is in Falcon Court, Fleet Street; such a dismal place, +with the houses all crammed together, and a little space in front, not +more than large enough to turn a baker's bread-truck in. All the windows +are of ground glass, as if the people inside were too busy to see out, +or to be seen; and on every door there are lots of names of people who +have their offices there, and some of them are actually right up at the +top storeys of the houses. Well, I found out the name of Mr. Compton, +and I tapped at a door where 'Clerk's Office' was written. I think I +ought not to have tapped, but to have gone in, for somebody said rather +sharply, 'Come in,' and in I went. An old gentleman was standing beside +a sort of counter, with a lot of heavy books on it, and he asked me what +I wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Compton, and had got a letter for +him. He told me to sit down until Mr. Compton was disengaged, and then +he would see me." + +"And what sort of an office was it, George? And who was the old +gentleman? The manager, I suppose!" + +"I think he was, because he seemed to do as he liked, and all the clerks +talked in a whisper while he was there. I had to wait more than +half-an-hour, and I was able to look round and see all that was going +on. It is a large office, and there were ten clerks seated on +uncomfortable high stools, without backs, poring over books and papers. +I don't think I shall like those clerks, they stared at me so rudely, +and I felt so ashamed, because one looked hard at me, and then whispered +to another: and I believe they were saying something about my boots, +which you know, mother, are terribly down at heel, and so I put one foot +over the other, to try and hide them." + +"There was no need of that, George. It did not alter the fact that they +were down at heel; and there is no disgrace in being clothed only as +respectable as we can afford, is there?" + +"Not a bit, mother: and I feel so vexed with myself because I knew I +turned red, which made the two clerks smile. But I must go on telling +you what else I saw. The old gentleman seems quite a character--he is +nearly bald, has got no whiskers, wears a big white neckcloth and a tail +coat, and takes snuff every five minutes out of a silver box. Whether he +knows it or not, the clerks are very rude to him: for when he took +snuff, one of them sneezed, or pretended to sneeze, every time, and +another snuffled, as if he were taking snuff too." + +"That certainly does not speak well for the clerks," said Mrs. Weston. +"Old gentlemen do have peculiar ways sometimes, but it is not right for +young people to ridicule them." + +"No, it is not; and I don't like to see people do a thing behind another +one's back they are afraid to do before his face. When the clerks had to +speak to the old gentleman, they were as civil as possible, and said, +'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' to him so meekly, as if they were quite +afraid of him; but after a little while, when he took up his hat and +went out, they all began talking and laughing out loud, although when he +was there, they had only occasionally spoken in low whispers. There was +only one young man, out of the whole lot, who did not join with them, +but kept at his work; and I thought if I got a situation in that office, +I should try and make friends with him." + +"That's right, George. I would rather you should not have a situation at +all, than get mixed up with bad companions. But go on, I am so anxious +to hear what Mr. Compton said." + +"Well, after half-an-hour, I heard a door in the next room close, and a +table-bell touched, and then the old gentleman, who had by this time +returned, went in Presently he came out again, and said Mr. Compton +would see me. Oh, mother! I felt so funny, you don't know. My mouth got +quite dry, my face flushed, and I couldn't think whatever I should say, +I felt just as I did that day at the school examination, when I had to +make one of the prize speeches. But I got all to rights directly I saw +Mr. Compton. He said, 'Good morning to you--be seated,' in such a nice +way, that I felt at home with him at once." + +"And what did you say to him, George?" + +"I had learnt by heart what I was going to say, but in the hurry I had +forgotten every word. So I said, 'My name is--' (it's a wonder I did not +say Norval, for I felt a bit bewildered at the sound of my own voice) +'--my name is George Weston, sir, and I have brought you a letter from +my uncle, Mr. Henry Brunton, who knows you, I think.' 'Oh! yes," he +said, 'he knows me very well; and, if I mistake not, this letter is +about you, for he was talking to me about a nephew the other day.' Isn't +that just like Uncle Henry?--he never said anything about that to us, +but he is so good and kind, we are always finding out some of his +generous actions, about which he never speaks. While Mr. Compton was +reading the letter, I had leisure to look at him, and at his room. He is +such a fine-looking old man, just like that picture we saw in the +Academy, last year, of the village squire. He looks as if he were very +benevolent and kind-hearted, and he dresses just like some of the +country gentlemen, with a dark green coat and velvet collar, a frill +shirt, and a little bit of buf. waistcoat seen under his coat, which he +keeps buttoned. He had got lots of books, and papers, and files about, +and sat hi an arm-chair so cosily--in fact, I should not have thought +that nice carpeted room was really an office, if it had not been for the +ground-glass windows. Just as I was thinking why it was the glorious +sunshine is not admitted into offices, Mr. Compton said--" + +"What did he say, George? I have waited so patiently to hear." + +"He said, 'Well, _Mr_. Weston,'--(he did really call me Mr. Weston, +mother; I suppose he took me for a young man: it is evident he did not +know I was wearing a stick-up shirt collar for the first time in my +life)--'I have read this letter, and am inclined to think I may be able +to do something for you.' That put my 'spirits up,' as poor father used +to say; and I said, 'I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.' So then he told me +that he wanted a junior clerk in his office, who could write quickly, be +brisk at accounts, and make himself generally useful, as the +advertisements in the _Times_ say. I told him I could do all these +things; and he passed me a sheet of paper, to give him a specimen of my +handwriting. I hardly knew what to write, but I fixed upon a passage of +Scripture, 'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the +Lord.' My hand was so shaky, that all the letters with tails to them had +the queerest flourishes you ever saw. Mr. Compton smiled when I handed +him the sheet of paper--I don't know whether it was at the writing, or +at the quotation, and I wished I had written a passage from Seneca +instead!" + +"You did not feel ashamed at having written a part of God's word, did +you, George?" + +"No, not ashamed, mother; but I thought it was not business-like, and +seemed too much like a schoolboy." + +"I think it was very business-like. It would convey the idea that you +would seek to do your business from the best and highest motives. But +what did Mr. Compton say?" + +"He only said he thought the handwriting was good. Then he told me that +he would take me as his clerk, and should expect me to be at my post +next Monday morning, at nine o'clock. 'And now,' he said, 'we must fix +upon a salary; and as your uncle has told me that you are anxious to +maintain yourself, I will give you a weekly sum sufficient for that +purpose; and if you give me satisfaction, I will raise it yearly.' And +what do you think he offered me, mother?" + +"I really do not know; perhaps, as you are young, and have never been in +a situation before, he said five shillings a week, although I did not +think you would get any salary at all for the first six months." + +"No, mother, more than five shillings; guess again," said George, his +face shining with excited delight. + +"Then I will guess seven and sixpence a week," said his mother, +doubtfully, for she thought she had gone too high. + +"More than that, mother; guess only once more, for I cannot keep it in +if you are not very quick." + +"Then I shall say ten shillings a week, George; but I am afraid I have +guessed too much." + +"No, mother, under the mark again. I am to have ten shillings and +sixpence--half a guinea a week! Isn't that splendid? Only fancy, Mr. +George Weston, Junior Clerk to Mr. Compton, at half-a-guinea a week! My +fortune is made; and, depend upon it, mother, we shall get on in the +world now, first-rate. Why, I shall only want--say, half-a-crown a week +for myself, and then there will be all the rest for you. Now don't you +think blind-eyed Fortune must have dropped her bandage this morning, and +have spied me out?" + +"No, George; but I think that kind Providence; which has always smiled +upon us when we have been in the greatest difficulties, has once more +shown us that all our ways are in the hands of One who doeth all things +well." + +"So do I, mother; and I do hope that this success, which has attended my +journey this morning, may turn out to our real good. I feel it will--we +shall be able to go on now so swimmingly, and I shall be getting a +footing in the world, so that by-and-bye we shan't have a single debt, +or a single care, and you will be growing younger as fast as I grow +older: and then, after a time, we will get a little house in the +country, and finish up our days the happiest couple in the British +dominions." + +For the remainder of that day, poor George was in a regular whirl of +excitement. A thousand schemes were afloat in his mind about the future, +of the most improbable kind. His income of half-a-guinea a week was to +do wonders, which were never accomplished by half a score of guineas. +He speculated about the rise in his salary at the end of the year, which +he was determined, if it rested upon his own industry, should not be +less than a pound a week; and then he forgot the first year, and +commenced calculating what he could do, with his increased salary, till, +at last, worn out with scheming, he said,-- + +"Money is a great bother, after all, mother. I've been calculating all +this day how we can spend my salary; and I am really more perplexed than +if Mr. Compton had said I should not have anything for the first six +months. I can't make ends meet if I attempt to do what I have planned, +that's very certain; so I shall quietly wait till the first Saturday +night comes, and I feel the half-guinea in my hand, and then I shall +better realize what it is worth." + +That was a pleasant evening Mrs. Weston and George spent together in +discussing the events of the day, and when it became time to separate +for the night, she said-- + +"This is one of the happiest days we have spent for a long time, George. +How your poor father would have enjoyed sharing it with us!" and the +widow sighed. + +"Mother," said George, "I have thought of poor father so many times +to-day, and I have formed a resolution which I mean to try and keep. He +was a good man. I don't think he ever did anything really wrong--and I +recollect so well what he used to tell me, when I was a boy"--(George +had jumped into manhood in a day, he fancied)--"I mean to take him for a +model; and if I find myself placed in dangers and difficulties, I shall +always ask myself, 'What would father have done if he had been in this +case?' and then I should try and do as he would." + +"May you have strength given to you, my deal boy, to carry out every +good resolution! But remember, there is a model which must be taken even +before that of your father. I mean the pure, sinless example of our +Lord; follow this, and adhere to the plain directions of God's word, and +you cannot go wrong. And now, good night; God bless you, my son!" + +It was a long time before George went to sleep; again and again the +events of the day came to his memory, and he travelled in thought far +into the future, peering through the mist which hung over unborn time, +and weighing circumstances which might never have a being. + +"I shall be quite accustomed to my duties by next Monday," he said to +his mother in the morning; "for I was all night long busy in the office, +counting money, posting books, and when I awoke I was just signing a +deed of partnership in the name of Compton and Weston." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SCHOOL-BOY DAYS. + + +George Weston was an only son, and, at the time our story commences, was +nearly seventeen years of age. His early years had been spent at home, +under the watchful care of kind and good parents. When he was ten years +old he was sent to a boarding school at Folkestone, and placed in the +charge of Dr. Seaward, a good man, who superintended his education, and, +besides imparting secular instruction, endeavoured to train his +character and make him good as well as clever. George was a sharp, +shrewd boy, a keen observer, who would know the why and the wherefore of +everything, and his lessons always came to him more as an amusement than +a task. He had a horror of being low down in his class, and if he did +not retain his place at the top, it was rarely through inattention or +want of study on his part. + +George was a great favourite with the whole school; he was a merry, +joyous fellow, who always had sunshine in his face and a kind word on +his lips; a ringleader in any harmless fun, and a champion on the side +of all the younger boys who met with oppression or injustice from the +elder classes. At cricket or football, swimming or boating, George had +few superiors; and as he was one of those boys who seem determined, +whatever they do, to do it with all their might, he went heart and soul +into all the spoils with such a zest and earnestness that he acquired +the name of the "Indefatigable." Nor did this name merely apply to his +zeal in sports. There was not in the whole school a more diligent +student than George: there was for him "a time to work and a time to +play," and he never allowed one to trespass upon the other. He would +rather go without a game at cricket for a fortnight than be behindhand +in one of his lessons. The boys would laugh at him for this, but George +could bear to be laughed at on such points, because he knew he was in +the right. "I came to school to learn," he would say, "and I don't see +any fun in making my parents pay heavy fees for me every year to play +cricket at the expense of study." Every boy knew there was wisdom in +this, and they secretly admired George for it, although it condemned +their own conduct, more especially when they had to go to him not +unfrequently, and say, "Weston, I shall get in a scrape with these +lessons to-morrow, unless you can help me a bit with them. Do give me a +leg up, that's a good fellow!" and though George never said "No," he did +sometimes take an opportunity to say, "If you did not waste so much time +in play, you might be independent of any help that I can give." + +It was a source of great pleasure to his parents to hear from time to +time, through Dr. Seaward, some good account of his conduct; and when he +returned home at the holiday seasons, generally laden with prizes which +he had victoriously borne off, they did not feel a little proud of their +only son. + +George remained at the school at Folkestone for five years, during which +time he rose from the lowest to the highest form. It was the intention +of his parents then to place him in a college for a year or two, in +order to give him in opportunity to complete his education, and have the +means to make a good start in life. But this purpose was frustrated by +an event which happened only a month before George was to have been +removed. + +One day, when all the boys were out in the playfield, busily engaged in +marking out boundaries for a game at hockey, Dr. Seaward was seen coming +from the house towards the field. This was an unusual event, as he +rarely interfered with them during play hours. "Something's up," said +the boys; and waited expectantly until the Doctor came up to them. + +"Call George Weston," said he; "I want to speak to him." + +"Weston! George Weston!" shouted one or two at once; and George came +running up, nothing abashed, for he knew he had done nothing wrong. + +"George," said the Doctor, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to +come with me; I have something to tell you;" and they walked together +away from the field. + +"What is it, sir? You look pained: I hope I have done nothing to offend +you?" + +"No, George," replied the Doctor; "few lads have ever given me so little +cause of offence at any time as you have. But I _am_ pained. I have some +sad news to tell you." + +"Sad news for me, sir? Oh, do tell me at once. Is anything the matter at +home?" + +"Yes, George; a messenger has just arrived to say that your father has +met with a serious accident; he has been thrown from his chaise, and is +much hurt. The messenger is your uncle, Mr. Brunton; and he desires you +to return at once to London with him." + +George waited to hear no more; he bounded away from the Doctor, cleared +the fence which enclosed the garden at a leap, and rushed into the room +where Mr. Brunton was anxiously awaiting him. No tear stood in his eye; +but he was dreadfully pale, and his hands trembled like aspen leaves. +"Oh, uncle!" was all he could say; and, throwing himself into a chair, +he covered his face with his hands. + +"Come, George, my boy," said Mr. Brunton, tenderly; "do not give way to +distress. Your poor father is seriously hurt, but he is yet alive. We +have just half an hour to catch the train." + +That was enough for George; in a moment he was calm and collected, ran +up to his room to make a few hasty arrangements, and in five minutes was +again with his uncle prepared for the journey. + +"Good-bye, Dr. Seaward," he said as he left the house. + +"God bless you, my young friend," said the kind-hearted Doctor; "and +grant that you may find His providence better than your fears." + +George thought he had never known the train go so slowly as it did +during that long, wearisome journey to London. At last it arrived at +the terminus, and then, jumping into a cab, they were hurried away +towards Stamford Hill as quickly as the horse could travel. + +"Now, George," said Mr. Brunton, as they came near their journey's end, +"we know not what may have happened while we have been coming here. Be a +man, and recollect there is one who suffers more than you." + +"Do not fear, uncle. I will not add to my mother's grief," was all he +could reply. + +We will not pry into that interview between mother and son when they +first met; there is a grief too solemn for a stranger's eye. + +Mr. Weston was still alive, and that was all that could be said. The +doctors had pronounced his case beyond human skill, and had intimated +that there were but a few hours for him on earth. + +As George stood beside the bed of his dying father, the tears which had +been long pent up came pouring thick and fast down his cheek. + +"Don't give way to sorrow, George," said his father, in a low voice, for +he had difficulty in speaking; "it will be only a little while before we +meet again; for what is life but a vapour, which soon vanisheth away?" + +"Oh, father, it is so sudden, so sudden!" sobbed George. + +"Therefore, my boy, remember that at all times there is but a step +between us and death; and if for us to live is Christ, then to die is +gain. Make that your motto through life, my dear boy, 'For me to live is +Christ.'" + +That night the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken, and +the spirit of Mr. Weston returned to God who gave it. "Precious in the +eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints." + +Never did a mother more realize the joy of possessing the unbounded love +of an affectionate son, than did Mrs. Weston during those melancholy +days between the death and the funeral of her husband, "Cheer up, dear +mother," he would say; "God is the father of the fatherless, and the +husband of the widow, and did not _He_ say 'to die is gain'?" + +George and Mr. Brunton followed the remains of the good man to their +last resting-place; and then the body was lowered to the grave "in the +sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection." + +Mr. Weston had not been a rich man, nor had he been a far-seeing, +provident man. He had moved in comfortable circumstances, with an income +only sufficient to pay his way in the world, and had made but scanty +provision for the future. At the time of his sudden death, his affairs +were in anything but a satisfactory state; and it was found that it +would be impossible for his widow to live in the same comfortable style +she had formerly done. + +After all his accounts were wound up, it was seen that she would only +have a sufficient sum of money, even if invested in the best possible +manner, to keep her in humble circumstances. She determined therefore to +leave her house at Stamford Hill, and take a smaller one in Islington, +and let some of the rooms to boarders. + +Mr. Brunton acted the part of a kind brother in all her difficulties; he +was never wearied in advising her, and on him principally devolved all +the necessary arrangements for her removal. Everything he did was with +such delicacy and refinement that, although his hand was daily and +hourly felt, it was never seen. + +One evening, shortly before leaving the locality in which they had lived +so many years, George and his mother walked together to the cemetery +where Mr. Weston had been buried, to pay a farewell visit to that +hallowed spot. They had been too much reduced in circumstances to have a +stone placed over the grave where he lay, and they were talking about it +as they journeyed along, saying, how the very first money they could +afford should be expended for that purpose. What was their surprise to +find a handsome stone raised above the spot, bearing these words:-- + + _Sacred to the Memory of_ + MR. GEORGE WESTON, + Who departed this life, Feb. 18th, 18--, aged 46 years. + + * * * * * + + "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." + +Tears of grateful joy stood in their eyes as they recognized another +token of the kind, tender love of Mr. Brunton. + +The bereavement and change of fortune were borne by the widow with that +fortitude which is only shown by the true Christian. It was hard, very +hard, to begin the world again; to be denied the pleasure of allowing +George to go to college and complete his studies; and to bear the +struggles and inconveniences of poverty. But Mrs. Weston knew that vain +regrets would never alter the case; the Lord had given, the Lord had +taken away, and from her heart she could say cheerfully, "Blessed be +the name of the Lord." + +George had not been idle. Every hour in which he was not occupied for or +with his mother, he was diligently engaged in prosecuting his studies, +and preparing himself for the time when he should be able to procure a +situation. Mr. Brunton had not been anxious for him to enter upon one at +once; he knew how lonely the widow would be without her son, and +therefore he did not take any steps to obtain for George a situation. +But when a twelvemonth had passed, and the keenness of sorrow had worn +off, he mentioned the matter to his friend Mr. Compton; with what +success we have seen in the first chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +STARTING WELL. + + +Never did days drag along more heavily than those which elapsed between +the interview with Mr. Compton, and the morning when George was to enter +upon his new duties. Every day the office was a subject of much +conversation; and neither George nor his mother ever seemed to weary in +talking over his plans and purposes. George wrote a long letter to Mr. +Brunton, telling him of the successful issue of his application to Mr. +Compton, and thanking him in the most hearty way for all his kindness. +The next day Mr. Brunton replied to George's letter as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR NEPHEW, + + "I am delighted to hear that you have obtained an appointment, and + that you seem so well satisfied with your prospects. May you find it + to be for your good in every way. Remember, you are going into new + scenes, and will be surrounded with many dangers and temptations to + which you have hitherto been a stranger. Seek to be strong against + everything that is evil; aim at the highest mark, and press towards + it. Much of your future depends upon how you begin--therefore begin + well; hold yourself aloof from everything with which your conscience + tells you you should not be associated, and then all your bright + dreams may, I hope, be fully realized. + + "I shall hope to be with you for an hour or two on Sunday evening. + + "You will have some unavoidable expenses to incur before entering + upon your duties, and will require a little pocket-money. Accept the + enclosed cheque, with the love of + + "Your affectionate Uncle, + + "HENRY BRUNTON." + +George's eyes sparkled with delight as he read the letter; and found the +enclosure to be a cheque for five pounds. This was a great treasure and +relief to him, for he had thought many times about his boots, which were +down at heel, and his best coat, which shone a good deal about the +elbows, and showed symptoms of decay in the neighbourhood of the +button-holes. + +A new suit of clothes and a pair of boots were therefore purchased at +once, and when Sunday morning came, and George dressed himself in them, +and stood ready to accompany his mother to the house of God, she thought +(although, of course, she did not say so) that she had never seen a more +handsome and gentlemanly-looking youth than her son. + +"Mother," said George, as they walked along, "what a treat the Sunday +will always be now, after being pent up in the office all the week. I +shall look forward to it with such pleasure, not only for the sake of +its rest, but because I shall have a whole day with you." + +"The Sabbath is, indeed, a boon," replied Mrs. Weston, "when it is made +a rest-day for the soul, as well as for the body. You remember those +lines I taught you, when you were quite another fellow, before you went +to school, do you not?-- + + "'A Sunday well spent brings a week of content + And health for the toils of the morrow; + But a Sabbath profaned, whatsoe'er may be gained, + Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'" + +"Yes, mother, I remember them; and capital lines they are. Dr. Seaward +once said, 'Strike the key-note of your tune incorrectly, and the whole +song will be inharmonious;' so, if the Sabbath is improperly spent, the +week will generally be like it." + +That morning the preacher took for his text the beautiful words in +Isaiah xli. 10, "Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed, for +I am thy God: I will strengthen thee--yea, I will help thee yea, I will +uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." These words came +like the sound of heavenly music into the soul of the widow; and she +prayed, with the fervency a mother alone can pray for a beloved and only +son, that the time might speedily come when he would be able to +appropriate these words, and realize, in the true sense of the term, God +as his Father. For George, although he had from early infancy been +brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and had learnt to +love holiness from so constantly seeing its beauty exemplified by his +parents, had not yet undergone that one great change which creates the +soul anew in Christ Jesus. + +Mr. Brunton arrived in the evening, just as Mrs. Weston and George were +starting out to the second service, and so they all went together to the +same place. The minister, an excellent man, who felt the responsibility +of his office, and took every opportunity of doing good, was in the +habit of giving four sermons a year especially to young men, and it so +happened that on this evening one of these discourses was to be +delivered. Nothing could have been more appropriate to a young man just +starting out in life than his address. The text was taken from those +solemn, striking words of the wise man, "My son, if sinners entice +thee, consent thou not." + +He spoke of the powerful influences continually at work to allure young +travellers along life's journey into the snares and pitfalls of sin, and +pointed to God's armoury, and the refuge from all the wiles of the +adversary. + +As the trio sat round the supper-table that evening, discussing the +events of the day, George said-- + +"I feel very glad that this Sunday has come before I go to Mr. +Compton's. I thought, when the text was given out this evening, that the +minister had prepared his sermon especially for me. I have no doubt all +he said was quite true; and so, being prepared, I shall be able to be on +my guard against the evils which he says are common to those who make +their first start in life." + +When Mr. Brunton rose to leave that night, he took George aside; and, +laying his hand on his shoulder, said-- + +"George, I am glad you have got your appointment, my boy; but I am +sorry, for some reasons, that it is in Mr. Compton's office, for I have +made inquiries about the clerks there, and I regret to find that they +are not the set of young men I should have liked you to be with. Now, I +want you to make me a promise. If ever you are placed in critical +circumstances, or dangers, or difficulties (I say _if_, because I do not +know why you should, but _if_ you are), be sure and come to me. Tell me, +as you always have done, honestly and openly, your difficulty, and you +will always find in me one willing to advise and assist you. Will you +promise?" + +"With all my heart I will, uncle; and thank you, too, for this, and all +your interests on my account." + +"Good-bye, then, George. Go on and prosper; and God bless you." + +Punctually at nine o'clock on Monday morning, George was at the office. +Mr. Sanders, the manager (the old gentleman whom George had seen on his +first visit), introduced him to the clerks by saying-- + +"This is Mr. George Weston, our new junior;" and George, with his face +all aglow, made a general bow in return to the salutations which were +given him. + +"This is to be your seat," said Mr. Sanders; "and that peg is for your +hat. And now, as you would, no doubt, like to begin at once, here is a +document I want copied." + +George was glad to have something to do; he felt all eyes were upon him, +and the whispered voices of the clerks rather grated upon his ears. He +took up his pen, and began to write; but he found his hand shaky, and he +was so confused that, after he had written half a page, and found he had +made two or three blunders, he was obliged to take a fresh sheet, and +begin again. + +"Take your time," said Mr. Sanders, who noticed his dilemma; "you will +get on right enough by-and-bye, when you are more accustomed to the +place and the work." + +George felt relieved by this; and making up his mind to try and forget +all around him, he set to work busily again, and in an hour or two had +finished the job. + +"I have done this, sir," he said, taking it to Mr. Sanders. "What shall +I do next?" + +"We will just examine it, and then you may take it into Mr. Compton's +room. After that you can go and get your dinner, and be back again in an +hour." + +The document was examined, and, to the surprise of George and Mr. +Sanders, not one mistake was found. "Come, this is beginning well," said +the manager; "we shall soon make a clerk of you, I see." + +When George went into Mr. Compton's room, and presented the papers, he +was again rewarded with an encouraging commendation. "This is very well +written--very well written indeed, and shows great painstaking," he +said. + +George felt he could have shaken hands with both principal and manager +for those few words. "How cheap a kind word is," he thought, "to those +who give it; but it is more precious than gold to the receiver. I like +these two men; and, if I can manage it, they shall like me too." + +George had not as yet exchanged a word with any of the clerks; but as he +was leaving the office to go to dinner, one of them was going out at the +same time, on the same errand. + +"Well, Mr. Weston, you find it precious dull, don't you, cooped up in +your den?" + +"Do you mean the office?" said George. + +"Yes; what else should I mean?" + +"It seems a comfortable office enough," said George, "and not +particularly dull; but I have not had sufficient experience in it to +judge." + +"You see, that old ogre (I beg his pardon, I mean old Sanders) takes +jolly good care there shall be no flinching from work while he's there, +and it makes a fellow deuced tired, pegging away all day long." + +"If this is a specimen of the clerks," thought George, "Uncle Brunton +was not far wrong when he said they were not a very good set." + +"From what I have seen of Mr. Sanders," he said, "I think him a very +nice man! and as for work, I always thought that was what clerks were +engaged to do, and therefore it is their duty to do it, whether under +the eye of the manager or not." + +George got this sentence out with some difficulty. He felt it was an +aggressive step, and did not doubt it would go the round of the office +as a tale against him. + +"Ugh!" said the clerk; "you've got a thing or two to learn yet, I see. +You must surely be fresh and green from the country; but such notions +soon die out. I don't like to be personal though, so we'll change the +subject. Where are you going to dine? Most of our chaps patronize the +King's Head--first-rate place; get anything you like in two twinklings +of a lamb's tail. I'm going there now; will you go? By the way, I should +have told you before this that my name is Williams." + +"I suppose, Mr. Williams,' the King's Head is a tavern? If so, I prefer +a coffee-house; but thank you, notwithstanding, for your offer." + +"By George! that's a rum start. Our chaps all hate coffee-shops, with +the exception of young Hardy, and he's coming round to our tastes now. +You can get a good feed at the King's Head--stunning tackle in the shape +of beer, and meet a decent set of fellows who know how to crack a joke +at table; whereas, if you go to a coffee-shop, you have an ugly slice of +meat set before you, a jorum of tea leaves and water, or some other +mess, and a disagreeable set of people around. Now, which is best?" + +"Your description is certainly unfavourable in the latter case; but I do +not suppose all coffeehouses are alike, and therefore I shall try one +to-day. Good morning." + +George soon found a nice-looking quiet place where he could dine, and +felt sure he had no need to go to taverns for better accommodation. + +When he returned to the office, at two o'clock, Mr. Sanders was absent, +and the clerks were busily engaged, not at work, but in conversation. +Mr. Williams was the principal speaker, and seemed to have something +very choice to communicate. George made no doubt that he was the subject +of conversation, for he had caught one or two words as he entered, which +warranted the supposition. He had nothing to do until Mr. Sanders +returned; this was an opportunity, therefore, for Mr. Williams to make +himself officious. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, "allow me to do the honours of the office by +introducing you, in a more definite manner than that old ----, I mean +than Mr. Sanders did this morning. This gentleman is Mr. Lawson, this is +Mr. Allwood, this is Mr. Malcolm, and this my young friend, Mr. Charles +Hardy, who is of a serious turn of mind, and is meditating entering the +ministry, or the undertaking line." + +A laugh at Hardy's expense was the result of this attempt at jocularity +on the part of Mr. Williams. George hardly knew how to acknowledge these +introductions; but, turning to Charles Hardy, he said,-- + +"As Mr. Williams has so candidly mentioned your qualities, Mr. Hardy, +perhaps you will favour me with a description of his." + +Hardy rose from his seat, for up to this time he had been engaged in +writing, and, in a tone of mock gravity, replied, + +"This is Mr. Williams, who lives at the antipodes of everything that is +quiet or serious, whose mission to the earth seems expressly to turn +everything he touches into a laugh. He is not a 'youth to fortune and +to fame unknown,' for in the archives of the King's Head his name is +emblazoned in imperishable characters." + +"Well said, Hardy!" said one or two at once. "Now, Williams, you are on +your mettle, old boy; stand true to your colours, and transmute the +sentence into a joke in self-defence." + +Williams was on the point of replying when Mr. Sanders entered. In an +instant all the clerks pretended to be up to their eyes in business; +each had his book or papers to hand as if by magic; whether upside down +or not was immaterial. + +But George Weston stood where he was; he could not condescend to so mean +an imposition, and he felt pleased to see that Charles Hardy, unlike the +others, made no attempt to hide the fact that he had been engaged in +conversation, instead of continuing at his work. + +At six o'clock the day's duties were over; and George felt not a little +pleased when the hour struck, and Mr. Sanders told him he could go. +Hardy was leaving just at the same time, and so they went out together. + +"Are you going anywhere in my direction?" said Hardy; "I live at +Canonbury." + +"Indeed!" replied George; "I'm glad to hear that, for I live at +Islington, close by you. If you are willing, we will bear one another +company, for I want to ask you one or two questions;" and taking Hardy's +arm, the two strolled homewards together. + +Now George would never have thought of walking arm in-arm with Mr. +Williams, or any of the other clerks; but, from the first time he saw +Hardy, and noticed his quiet, gentlemanly manners, he felt sure he +should like him. Hardy, too, had evidently taken a fancy to George; and +therefore both felt pleased that accident had brought them together. +Accident? No, that is a wrong word; whenever a heart feels that there is +another heart beating like its own, and those two hearts go out one +towards the other, until they become knit together in the bonds of +friendship, there is something more than accident in that. + +"How long have you been in Mr. Compton's office?" said George, as they +walked along, + +"Nearly two years," he replied; "I went there as soon as I left school. +I was then about seventeen years old; and there I have been ever since." + +"Then you are my senior by two years," said George. "I left school a +year ago, and this is my first situation. How do you like the office?" + +"Do you mean my particular seat, the clerks, or the duties, or all +combined?" + +"I should like to know how you like the whole combined." + +"I prefer my desk to yours, because I sit next to Mr. Malcolm, who is +one of the steadiest and most respectable clerks in the office; and +therefore I am not subject to so much annoyance as you will be, seated +next to that empty-headed Williams, and coarse low-minded Lawson. I do +not really like any of the clerks; there are none of them the sort of +young men I should choose as companions. As to the duties, they are +agreeable enough, and I have nothing to find fault with on that score." + +"I tell you candidly," said George, "I am not prepossessed in favour of +the clerks; they are far too 'fast' a set to please me; but I am very +glad, for my own sake, that you are in the office, Mr. Hardy." + +"Why?" + +"Because, although we are almost strangers at present, I know I shall +find in you some one who will be companionable. You don't seem very +thick with the others; you don't join with them in that mean practice of +shirking work directly Mr. Sanders's back is turned; and you don't, from +what I have heard, approve of the society at the King's Head, in which +the others seem to take so much delight. Now, in these points, I think, +our tastes are similar." + +"Ah! Mr. Weston," said Hardy, "you will find, as I have done, that +amongst such a set we are obliged to allow a great many things we do not +approve. But I'm very glad you have come amongst us; unity is strength, +you know, and two can make a better opposition than one. Now, will you +let me give you a hint?" + +"Certainly," said George. + +"Be on your guard with Lawson and Williams; they are two dangerous young +men, and can do no end of mischief, because they are double-faced--sneaking +sometimes, and bullying at others. I don't know whether you have heard +that you are filling a vacancy caused by one of our clerks leaving the +office in disgrace. It is not worth while my telling you the story now, +but that poor chap would never have left in the way he did, had it not +been for Lawson and Williams." + +"Many thanks, Mr. Hardy, for your information and advice, upon which I +will endeavour to act. And now, as our roads lay differently, we must +say good evening." + +"Adieu, then, till to-morrow," said Hardy. "By-the-bye, I pass this +road in the morning, at half-past eight; if you are here we will walk to +the office together." + +It took George the whole of the evening to give his mother a full +account of the day's proceedings; there were so many questions to ask on +her part, and so many descriptions to give on his, and such a number of +events occurred during the day, that it seemed as if he had at least a +week's experience to narrate. + +"I like Hardy, mother," said George, once or twice during the evening; +"he is such a thorough open-hearted fellow, and I know we shall get +along together capitally." + +"I hope so, my boy," said his mother; "but be very careful how you form +any other friendships." + +When Mrs. Western retired to her room for the night, it was not to +sleep. She felt anxious and uneasy about George; she thought of him as +the loving, gentle child, the merry, light-hearted boy, and the manly, +conscientious youth. Then she thought of the future. How would he stand +against the evil influences surrounding him? Would his frank, ingenuous +manner change, and the confidence he always reposed in her cease? Would +he be led away by the gay and thoughtless young men with whom he would +be associated? + +Tears gathered in the widow's eyes, and many a sigh sounded in that +quiet room; but Mrs. Weston had a Friend at hand, to whom she could go +and pour out all her anxieties. She would cast her burden on Him, for +she knew He cared for her. As she knelt before the mercy-seat, these +were her prayers:-- + +"Lord, create in him a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within him. +May he remember Thee in the days of his youth. Heavenly Father, lead him +not into temptation, but deliver him from evil Guide him by Thy counsel, +and lead him in the paths of righteousness, for Thy Name's sake." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW. + + +Six months passed rapidly away. George continued to give satisfaction to +Mr. Compton, soon learnt the office routine, and earned the warmest +expressions of approbation from Mr. Sanders, who said he was the best +junior clerk he ever remembered to have entered that office. + +George had carefully guarded against forming any kind of intimacy with +the other clerks; he had declined to have more to say to them during +office hours than possible, and when business was over he purposely +shunned them. But a strong friendship had sprung up between him and +Charles Hardy; every morning they came to the city together, and +returned in company in the evening. Sometimes George would spend an +evening at the house of Hardy's parents, and Hardy, in like manner, +would occasionally spend an evening with George. + +Williams and Lawson had, as Hardy predicted, been a source of great +annoyance to George. He was constantly obliged to bear their ridicule +because he would not conform to their habits, and sometimes the insults +he received were almost beyond his power of endurance. He and Hardy +received the name of the "Siamese youths," and were generally greeted +with such salutations as "How d'ye do? Is mamma pretty well?"--or +something equally galling. But George bore it all with exemplary +patience, and he did not doubt that after a while they would grow tired +of annoying him. At all events, he felt certain some new policy would be +adopted by them; for he had so risen in the estimation of his employer, +who began to repose confidence in him, and entrust him with more +important matters than he allowed the others to interfere with, that +George anticipated the time when the clerks would either be glad to +curry favour with him, or at least have to acknowledge that he was +regarded more highly than they were. + +So matters went on. Mrs. Weston was full of joy as she saw how well +George had kept his resolutions, and full of hope that he would continue +as he had begun. + +Mr. Brunton had given him many kind encouragements during this time, and +had felt himself well rewarded for all his trouble on George's behalf +by hearing from Mr. Compton of the satisfaction his services had given. + +And now an event occurred, simple and unimportant in itself, and yet it +was one that affected the whole of George's after-life. + +One evening, as he was leaving the office, and had just turned into +Fleet-street, a nice-looking, fashionably-dressed young man came running +up, and, clapping him on the shoulder, exclaimed, + +"What! George Weston, my old pippin, who ever thought of turning you up +in London!" + +"Harry Ashton! my old school-chum, how are you?" and the two friends +shook hands with a heartiness that surprised the passers-by. + +"Where ever have you been to, all these long years, George?" said Aston; +"only fancy, we have never seen each other since that day we were +playing hockey at dear old Dr. Seaward's, and you were hastily called +away to London. The Doctor told us the sad news, and we all felt for you +deeply, old fellow; in fact I never recollect the place having been so +gloomy before or since." + +"It was a sad time for me," said George; "and after that I lived at home +for a twelvemonth. Then I got an appointment in an office in +Falcon-court, and have held it just six months. Now, tell me where you +have sprung from, and where you have been since I last saw you?" + +"I stayed only six months longer at Dr. Seaward's and was then articled +to a surveyor in the Strand, with whom I have been nearly a year, and +now I am bound for my lodgings, and you must come with me." + +"You had better come with me," said George; "my mother will be so +pleased to welcome an old school-fellow of mine, and she is not +altogether a stranger to you." + +"Thank you, old fellow," replied Ashton; "I shall be very glad to accept +your invitation some other night; but, after our long separation, we +want to have a quiet, confidential chat over old times together, and I +must introduce you to my crib. I am a bachelor--all alone in my glory. +The old folks still live in the country, and I boarded at first in a +family; but that that was terribly slow work, and since that time I have +hung out on my own hook. So come along, George; I really can't hear any +excuse." + +George hesitated only a moment; he had never spent an evening from home +without first acquainting his mother; but this was an unusual event, +and he was so anxious to hear about Dr. Seaward, and talk over old +school days, the temptation was irresistible. + +Harry Ashton called a cab, much to George's surprise, into which they +jumped; and were not very long in getting into the Clapham road, where +they alighted before a large, nice looking house. + +"This is the crib," said Ashton, as he ushered George into a large +parlour, handsomely furnished with everything contributing to comfort +and amusement. "Now, make yourself at home. Here are some cigars +(producing a box of Havannahs), and here (opening a cellaret) is bottled +beer and wine; which shall it be?" + +"As to smoking, that is a bad habit, or an art (which you like) I have +never yet practised," said George; "but I will join you in a glass of +wine just to toast 'Dr. Seaward and our absent friends in the school.'" + +Then the two school friends fell into conversation. Many and many a +happy recollection came into their minds, and one long yarn was but the +preface to another. + +"Come, George, fill up your glass," said Ashton repeatedly; but George +declined. + +Two or three hours slipped rapidly away, and then George rose to leave. +"Not a bit of it, George," said Ashton; "we must have some supper and +discuss present times yet. I have not heard particulars of what you are +doing, or how you are getting on, and you only know I'm here, without +any of the history about it." + +So George yielded: how could he help it? Harry Ashton had become his +bosom-chum during the five years he had been at school, and all the old +happy memories of those days were again fresh upon him. + +"Now, George, tell your story first, and then mine shall follow." Then +George narrated all the leading circumstances which had attended his +life, from the time he left school up to that very evening, and a long +story it was. + +"Now," said Ashton, "for mine. When you left Folkestone I got up to your +place at the head of the school, and there I held on till I left. Six +months after you left, the holidays came, and I came up to town. I spent +a few days with Mr. Ralston, an old friend of the family, and one of the +first engineers and surveyors in London. He took a liking to me, offered +to take me into his office, wrote to the governor (I know you don't like +that term, though--I mean my father), proposed a sum as premium, +arrangements were made; and, instead of returning to school, I came to +London and commenced learning the arts and mysteries of a profession. I +had only been with Mr. Ralston two or three months, when one morning my +father came into the office, out of wind with excitement, and said, +'Harry, I have got sad and joyful, and wonderful news for you! Poor old +Mr. Cornish is dead; the will has been opened, and--make up your mind +for a surprise--the bulk of his property is left to you.' I was +thunderstruck. I knew the old gentleman would leave me something, but I +did not know that he had quarrelled with his relatives, and therefore +appropriated to me the share originally intended for them. So, you see, +I have stepped into luck's way. I am allowed an income now which amounts +to something like two hundred a year, as I shall not come into my rights +till I am twenty-one, and how I am not nineteen; so I have a long time +to wait, you see, which is rather annoying. I took this crib, and have +managed to enjoy my existence pretty well, I can assure you. Sometimes I +run down into the country to spend a week or two with the old folks, and +sometimes they come up and see me." + +"Don't you find it rather dull, living here alone, though?" said George. + +"Dull? far from it. I have a good large circle of friends, who like to +come round here and spend a quiet evening; and there are no end of +amusements in this great city, so that no one need never be dull. +Besides, if I am alone, I am not without friends, you see,"--pointing to +a well-stocked book case. + +"I have been running my eye over them, Harry. There are some very nice +books; but your tastes are changed since I knew you last, or you would +never waste your time over all this lot here which seem to have been +best used. I mean the 'Wandering Jew,' 'Ernest Maltravers,' and the +like." + +"I won't attempt to defend myself, George; but when I was at school, I +did as school-boys did: now I have come to London, I do as the Londoners +do. I know there is an absence of anything like reason in this, but I am +not much thrown amongst reasoners. But, to change the subject; now you +have found me out, George, I do hope you will very often chum with me. I +shall enjoy going about with you better than with anybody else; and as +we know one another so well, we shall soon have tastes and habits in +common again, as we used to have." + +Presently the clock struck. George started up in surprise. "What! +twelve o'clock! impossible. It never can be so late as that?" + +"It is, though," said Ashton, "but what of that? you don't surely call +twelve o'clock bad hours for once in a way?" + +"No, not for once in a way," replied George; "but I have never kept my +mother up so late before. Good-bye, old fellow. Promise to come and see +me some night this week. There is my address." And so saying, George ran +out into the street and made his way towards Islington. + +That was an anxious night for Mrs. Weston. "What can have happened?" she +asked herself a hundred times. Fortunately, Mr. Brunton called, and he +assisted to while away the time. + +"George does not often stay out of an evening, does he?" he asked. + +"No, never," replied Mrs. Weston; "unless it is with his friend, Charles +Hardy, and then I always know where they are, and what they are doing. +But something extraordinary must have happened to-night, and I feel very +anxious to know what it is. Not that I think he is anywhere he ought not +to be. I feel sure he is not," continued Mrs. Weston confidently; "but +what it is that has detained him, I am altogether at a loss to guess." + +"Well, I will not leave you till he comes home," said Mr. Brunton. + +It was one o'clock before George arrived; it was too late to get an +omnibus, and a cab, he thought, was altogether out of the question; +therefore he had to walk the whole distance--or rather run, for he was +as anxious now to get home as they were to see him. + +He was very much surprised, and, if it must be confessed, rather vexed +on some accounts, to find Mr. Brunton waiting up for him with his +mother. + +His explanation of what had happened, told in his merry, ingenuous way, +at once dissipated any anxiety they had felt. + +"I recollect Harry Ashton well," said Mrs. Weston. "Dr. Seaward pointed +him out to me, the first time I went to see you at Folkestone, as being +one of his best scholars; and he came home once with you in the holidays +to spend a day or two with us, did he not?" + +"That is the same, mother, and a better-hearted fellow it would be hard +to find." + +"There is only one disadvantage that I see in your having him as an +intimate friend," said Uncle Brunton, "and that is, he is now very +differently situated in position to you as regards wealth, and you +might find him a companion more liable to lead you into expense than any +of your other friends, because I know what a proud fellow you are, +George," he said, laughingly, "you like to do as your friends do, and +would not let them incur expense on your account unless you could return +their compliment. But I will not commence a moral discourse to-night--it +is time all good folks should be in bed." + +All the next day George was thinking over the events of the previous +evening; he was pleased to have found out Harry Ashton, and thought he +would be just the young man he wanted for a companion. Then he compared +their different modes of life--Ashton living in luxuriant circumstances, +without anybody or anything to interfere with his enjoyment, and he, +obliged to live very humbly and carefully in order to make both ends +meet; and then came a new feeling, that of restraint. + +"There is Ashton," he thought, "can go out when he likes and where he +likes, without its being necessary to say where he is going or what he +is going to do, and he can come in at night without being obliged to +account for all his actions like a child. If I happen to stay out, there +is Uncle Brunton and my mother in a great state of excitement about me, +which I don't think is right. I really do not wonder that the clerks +have made me a laughing-stock. All this while I have lived in London I +have seen nothing; have not been to any of the places of amusement; and +have not been a bit like the young men with whom I get thrown into +contact. I think Ashton is right, after all, in saying that when he was +at school he did as school-boys did, and when he came to London he did +as the Londoners do. Far be it from me to be undutiful to those who care +for me; but I think, as a young man, I do owe a duty to myself, +different altogether from that which belonged to me as a schoolboy." + +These were all new thoughts to George: he had never felt or even thought +of restraint before; he had never even expressed a wish to do as other +young men did, in wasting precious time on useless amusements; he had +always looked forward to an evening at home with pleasure, and had never +felt the least inclination to wander forth in search of recreation +elsewhere. Nay, he had always condemned it; and when Lawson or Williams, +or any of the other clerks, had proposed such a thing to him, he never +minded bearing their ridicule in declining. + +And here was George's danger. He was upon his guard with his +fellow-clerks, and was able to keep his resolution not to adopt their +ideas, nor fall into their ways and habits; but when those very evils he +condemned in them were presented to him in a different form by Harry +Ashton, his old friend and school-fellow--leaving the principle the +same, and only the practice a little altered--he was off his guard; and +the habits he regarded with dislike in Williams and Lawson, he was +beginning secretly to admire in Ashton. + +As he walked home that evening with Hardy he gave him a long description +of his meeting with Ashton, and all that happened during his interview +and upon his return home. + +"Now, Hardy," said George, "which do you think is really +preferable--Harry Ashton's life or ours? We never go out anywhere; and, +for the matter of that, might as well be living in monasteries, as far +as knowing what is going on in the world is concerned." + +"For my own part, Weston," said Hardy, "I would rather be as I am. Your +friend is surrounded with infinitely greater temptations than we are, +from the fact of his living as he does without any control. He is +evidently free from his parents, and although he is old enough to take +care of himself, still there is a certain restraint felt under a +parent's roof which is very desirable." + +"Quite true," said George; "but that involves a point which has been +perplexing me all day. Should we, after we have arrived at a certain +age, acknowledge a parent's control as we did when we were mere +school-boys? I do not mean are we to cease to honour them, because that +we cannot do while God's commandment lasts; but are we, as Williams +says, always to go in leading-strings, or are we at liberty to think and +act for ourselves?" + +"That depends a good deal on the way in which we wish to think and act. +For instance, my parents object to Sunday travelling and Sunday +visiting. Now, while I am living with them, I feel it would not be right +for me to do either of these things--even though as a matter of +principle I might not see any positive wrong in them--because it would +bring me into opposition with my parents. So, in spending evenings away +from home, I know it would be contrary to their wish, and it is right to +try and prevent our opinions clashing." + +"I agree with you, partly, Hardy; but only partly. We must study our +parents' opinions in the main, but not in points of detail. Suppose I +want to attend a course of lectures, for example, which would take me +from home sometimes in the evening; and my mother objects to my spending +evenings from home, although the study might be advantageous to me--then +I think I should be at liberty to adhere to my own opinion; if not, I +should be under the same restraint I was as a child. It is right and +natural that parents should feel desirous to know what associations +their sons are forming, and what are their habits, and all that sort of +thing; but I am inclined to think it is not right for a parent to +exercise so strong a control as to say, 'So-and-so shall be your +companion;' and, 'You may go to this place, but you may not go to +that.'" + +"Well, Weston, your digestion must be out of order, or you are a little +bilious, or something; for I never heard you talk like this before. I +have told you, confidentially sometimes, that I have wanted to rebel +against the wishes of my parents on some points, and you have always +counselled me, like a sage, grey-headed father, to give up my desire. +But now you turn right round, and place me in the position of the +parent, and you the rebellious son. I recommend, therefore, that you +take two pills, for I am sure bile is at the bottom of this; and then I +will feel your pulse upon this point again." + +Mrs. Weston noticed a difference in George that evening. He seemed as +if he had got something upon his mind which was perplexing him. He was +not so cheerful and merry as usual, but his mother attributed it partly +to his late hours, followed by a hard day's work, and therefore she said +nothing to him about it. + +A day or two elapsed, and George was still brooding upon the same +subject. He did not know that the great tempter was weaving a subtle net +around him, to lure him into the broad road which leadeth to +destruction. He tried a hundred times to fight against the strange +influence he felt upon him; but he did not fight with the right weapons, +and therefore he failed. Had the tempter suggested to him that, as he +was a young man, he should do as his fellow-clerks, or even Ashton did, +and have his way in all things, he would have seen the temptation; but +it came altogether in a different way. The evil voice said, "You are +under restraint. Ask any young man of your own age, and he will tell you +so. It is high time you should unloose yourself from apron-strings." And +this idea of restraint was preying upon him, and he could not throw it +off. George was anxious to do the right, but did not know how to fight +against the wrong. Conscience whispered to him, "Do you remember that +motto your dying father gave you, 'For me to live is Christ?'" George +replied, "Yes, I remember it; and it is still my desire to follow it." +Conscience said again, "Do you recollect that sermon you heard, and the +resolutions you made, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou +not?'" And he answered, "I remember it well; but I am not aware that any +are endeavouring to entice me." + +This was the effect of the unconscious influence of Harry Ashton. He had +unknowingly fanned a latent spark into a flame, which, unless checked, +would consume all those high and praiseworthy resolutions which George +had formed, and carefully kept for years. He had cast a shadow over the +landscape of his friend's well-being, which made the sign-posts pointing +"upward and onward" almost indistinct. He had breathed into the +atmosphere a subtle malaria, and George had caught the disease. The +little leaven was now mixed with his life, which would leaven the whole. +The genus of that moral consumption, which, unless cured by the Great +Physician, ends in death, had been sown, and were now taking root. + +George was unconscious of any foreign influence working upon him--he +could not see that Ashton had in any way exerted a power over him; nor +in the new and undefined feelings which had taken possession of him +could he recognise the presence of evil. He had consulted conscience, +and, he fancied, had satisfactorily met the warnings of its voice. + +But he had _not_ gone to that high and sure source of strength which can +alone make a way of escape from all temptations; he had _not_ obtained +that armour of righteousness which is the only defence against the fiery +darts of the wicked one; he had _not_ that faith, in the power of which +alone Satan can be resisted; and therefore his eyes were holden so that +he could not see the snares which the subtle foe was laying around him, +nor could he, in his own strength, bear up against the strong tide which +was threatening to overwhelm him. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A FARCE. + + +Harry Ashton kept his promise, and went one evening that week to see +George at Islington. Hardy had been invited to meet him; and the three +friends, as they kept up a perfect rattle of conversation, interspersed +with many crossfired jokes, made the merriest and happiest little party +that could be imagined. + +Mrs. Weston was very much pleased with Ashton--his refined thought and +gentlemanly address, joined with an open-hearted candour and a fund of +humour which sparkled in every sentence, made it impossible for any one +not to like him. Charles Hardy thought he had never met a more +entertaining companion than Ashton; Ashton thought Hardy was an +intelligent, agreeable fellow; and George declared to his mother that, +if he had had the pick of all the young men in London, he could not have +found two nicer fellows. + +A hundred topics were discoursed upon during the evening, in which +Ashton generally took the lead, and showed himself to be very well +informed on all ordinary subjects. Incidentally the theatre was +mentioned. + +"Have you seen that new piece at the Lyceum?" said Ashton. "It is really +a very capital thing." + +"No," said George. "I have never been to a theatre." + +"Nor I," said Hardy. + +"Nor I," said Mrs. Weston. + +"Well, that is really very extraordinary," said Ashton; "I thought +almost everybody went to a theatre at some time or other. But perhaps +you have some objection?" + +"I have," said Mrs. Weston. "I think there is a great deal of evil +learnt there, and very little good, if any. It is expensive; and it +leads into other bad habits." + +"Those last objections cannot be gainsaid," said Ashton; "but they +equally apply to all amusements, and therefore, by that rule, all +amusements are bad." + +"But not in an equal degree with that of the theatre," George remarked; +"because other amusements do not possess such an infatuation. For my +own part, I should not mind going to a concert; but I very much +disapprove of the theatre, and should never hesitate to decline going +there." + +"Yours is not a good argument, George. You have never been to the +theatre, you say, and yet you disapprove of it. Are you right in +pronouncing such an opinion, which cannot be the result of your own +investigation?" + +"I think I am," replied George; "I can adopt the opinions of those whom +experience has instructed in the matter, and in whom I can rely with +implicit confidence. If a man goes through a dangerous track, and falls +into a bog, I should be willing to admit the track was dangerous, and +avoid the bog, without going in to prove the former traveller was right; +and this applies to going to theatres." + +"No, George; there is your error. There would be no two opinions about +the bog; but suppose you go for a tour to the Pyrenees, and, from +prejudice or some other cause, come back disgusted. You warn me not to +go, telling me I shall be wasting my time, and find nothing interesting +to reward my trouble in the journey. But Hardy goes the same tour, comes +home delighted, and says, 'Go to the Pyrenees by all means; it is a +glorious place, the most pleasant in the whole world for a tour.' To +decide the question, I read two books; one agrees with you, and the +other with Hardy. How can I arrive at an opinion unless I go myself, and +see what it is like? So it is with the theatre: some say it is the great +teacher of morals, others that it is the most wicked and hurtful place. +Therefore I think every one should form his own opinion from his own +experience." + +"You may be right," said George, waveringly. "I am not clear upon the +subject; but I do not think, even if I were to form an opinion in the +way you prescribe, that I should ever choose the theatre as a place of +amusement." + +"Then what is your favourite amusement?" asked Ashton. + +"To come home and read, or spend a social evening with a friend," George +answered. + +"Then I know what will suit you all to pieces," said Ashton; "and your +friend Hardy too. I am a member of a literary institution. It is a +first-rate place--the best in London. There are lectures and classes, +and soirees, a debating society, a good library, and rooms for +chess-playing and that sort of thing. Now, you really must join it; it +will be so very nice for us to have a regular place of meeting; and, +besides that, we can combine study with amusement. What do you say, Mrs. +Weston?" + +"I cannot see any objection to literary institutions," said Mrs. Weston; +"but I have always considered them better suited to young men who are +away from home, than for those who have comfortable homes in which to +spend their evenings. You speak about having a regular place of meeting. +I shall always be very pleased to see you and Mr. Hardy here, as often +as ever you can manage to spend an evening with us." + +"Many thanks for your kindness, Mrs. Weston," returned Ashton; "but it +would not be right for us to trespass on your good nature. Now I will +give you and your friend a challenge, George," he continued. "Next +Monday, the first debate of the season comes off; will you allow me to +introduce you to the institution on that evening?--it is a member's +privilege." + +"I shall be very pleased to join you, then," said George. "What say you, +Hardy?" + +"I accept the invitation, with thanks," replied Hardy. + +On Monday night, as George and Hardy journeyed towards the place of +meeting, they discussed the question of joining the institution. + +"If you will, I will," said Hardy. "My parents do not much like the +idea; but, as you said the other evening, 'we must not allow ourselves +to be controlled like mere children.'" + +"I do think we really require a little recreation after business hours; +and we can obtain none better than that of an intellectual kind, such as +is found at literary institutions. The new term has only just commenced; +so we may as well be enrolled as members at once." + +"I wish the institution was a little nearer home," said Hardy, "for it +will be so late of an evening for us to be out. However, we need not +always attend, nor is it necessary we should very often be late. Have +you had any difficulty in obtaining Mrs. Weston's consent to your +joining?" + +"None at all; she prefers my attending an institution of this kind to +any other, although probably she would be better pleased if I did not +join one at all. But, as Ashton says, we really must live up to the +times, and know something of what is going on in the world around us. +Did you not notice, the other evening, how Ashton could speak upon every +subject brought on the carpet? My mother said, 'What a remarkably +agreeable young man he is! he has evidently seen a good deal of +society;' and I think the two things are inseparable--to be agreeable +in society, one must mix more with it." + +Ashton was punctual to his appointment; and all were at the institution +just as the members were assembling for the debate. George was surprised +to find how many of the young men knew Ashton, and he admired the ease +and elegance of his friend in acknowledging the greetings which met him +on every hand. + +"I won't bore you with introductions to-night," he said, "except to just +half-a-dozen fellows in particular, who, I am sure, you will like to +know; and we can all sit together and compare opinions during the +debate." + +The friends were accordingly introduced; and as the proceedings of the +evening went on, and all waxed warm upon the subject under discussion, +the party which Ashton had drawn together soon became known to one +another, and were on terms of conversational acquaintance. + +The meeting separated at ten o'clock, and then George and Hardy essayed +to bid good-night to their friends, and make their way at once towards +Islington. + +"Nonsense," said Ashton; "I want you to come with me to a nice quiet +place I know, close by, and have a bit of supper and a chat over all +that has been said, and then I will walk part of the way home with you." + +"No, not to-night, Ashton; it is quite late enough already; and it will +be past eleven o'clock before we get home as it is." + +"What say you, Hardy? Can you persuade our sage old friend to abandon +his ten o'clock habits for one night?" asked Ashton. + +"I do not like to establish a bad precedent," said Hardy; "and as we +have to-night joined the institution, I think we should make a rule to +start off home as soon as we leave the meetings, because we have some +distance to go, and bad hours, you know, interfere with business." + +"I did not expect you to make a rule to keep bad hours," said Ashton;" +but every rule has an exception--" + +"And therefore it will not do to commence with the exception; so +good-bye, till we meet again on Wednesday." + +Three nights a-week there was something going on at the institution +sufficiently attractive to draw George and Hardy there. One evening a +lecture, another the discussion class, and the third an elocution class, +or more frequently that was resigned in favour of chess. From meeting +the same young men, night after night, a great number of new +acquaintanceships were formed, and George would never have spent an +evening at home, had he accepted the invitations which were frequently +being given him; but he had made a compact with himself, that he would +never be out more than three evenings a week, and would devote the +remainder to the society of his mother. A certain little voice did +sometimes say to him, "Is it quite right and kind of you, George, to +leave your mother so often? Do you not think it must be rather lonely +for her, sometimes, without you?" And George would answer to the voice, +"Mother would never wish to stand between me and my improvement. +Besides, she has many friends who visit her, and with whom she visits; +and few young men of my age give their mothers more than three evenings +of their society a week." + +One evening, as George and Hardy were entering the institution, Harry +Ashton came up to them, and said,-- + +"I have just had some tickets sent me for the Adelphi. There is nothing +going on here worth staying for, so I shall go. Dixon will make one, and +you and Hardy must make up the quartette." + +"Dixon going?" asked George; "why, I thought he was such a sedate +fellow, and never went to anything of the sort!" + +"Neither does he, as a rule; but he has never been to the Adelphi, and +he wants to go. Will you accompany us?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "I told you once I did not like theatres; +perhaps you recollect we discussed the point one evening?" + +"We did, and you said you had never been to a theatre: you disapproved +of them, without ever having had an opportunity of judging whether they +were good or bad places. Now, take the opportunity." + +"I am not anxious to form a judgment; and I so dislike all the +associations of a theatre that it would be no pleasure for me to go." + +"Complimentary, certainly!" laughed Ashton. "But I will grant you this +much--there are bad associations connected with the theatres, and this +is the stronghold of objectors; but we are four staid sober fellows, we +shall go to our box without any bother, sit and see the play without +exchanging a word with anybody beyond our own party, and then leave as +soon as the performance is over. You had better say you will go, eh?" + +"No, it would be very late before I got home," said George: "and I do +not like keeping my mother up, more particularly as I was so very late +the other evening. But what do you say, Hardy?" + +"I don't know what to say," said Hardy. "I did once say to myself I +would never go to a theatre; but I am not sure that there is any moral +obligation why I should keep my word, when the compact rests only with +myself. I have not time to consult Paley, and so I put the question to +you--Can I go, seeing I have said to myself I will not?" + +"Arrange it in this way," said Ashton; "both of you go, and when you get +there, if you decide you have done wrong, then leave at once; or if you +find that your consciences are in durance vile, and you have not +patience or sufficient interest to stay and see the play out, go, and I +will excuse you then with all my heart; but I won't excuse your not +going. Now is your time to decide; for here comes Dixon, true to his +appointment." + +"I suppose you have got your party complete, Ashton?" he said; "and if +so, we had better start at once, or the play will have begun before we +get there." + +George pondered no longer. "Suppose we try it, Hardy, on Ashton's +plan," said he; "I don't see any harm in that, do you?" + +"No, I think that is the best way in which the case can be put," he +replied; "and I don't see that any harm can possibly come of it." + +Away went the party, full of high spirits, bent upon amusement. But +George felt a certain uneasy something, which tried to make him feel +less pleased with himself than usual, and his laugh was at first forced +and unnatural; there was not the same joyousness there would have been +had he been starting on some recreation which he knew would be approved +by parent and friends, and his own conscience. Ashton noticed he did not +seem to be quite at ease; and therefore he brought all his humour into +play to provoke hilarity. By the time they arrived at the theatre, that +love of novelty and excitement which is so natural to young people +completely overcame all other feelings, and the sight of the crowds +flocking into all parts of the house was now an irresistible temptation +to follow in too. + +They were shown into a very comfortable box, commanding a good view of +the whole of the theatre. The thrilling strains of music issuing from +the orchestra, the dazzling lights, and the large assembly of elegantly +dressed ladies in the boxes, a mass of people in the pit, and tiers of +heads in the galleries, filled George with excitement. He who a little +while before had been the dullest of the party, was now the gayest of +the gay; he was lost in astonishment at all he saw and heard, dazzled +with the brilliancy of the scene, and abandoned to all the enjoyments of +the hour. + +The performances that evening consisted of a farce, the comedy of the +"Serious Family," and a ballet. When the curtain rose, and the farce +commenced, George entered heart and soul into the spirit of the +performance; laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks at the +dilemmas of an unlucky wight who acted a prominent part, and stamped +applause in favour of a young lady who tried in every way to defend this +unfortunate individual from his persecutors. + +When it was over, Ashton turned to George, and said-- + +"Well, Weston, so much for the farce; now, if you think it is +objectionable, off you go, old fellow, and we will forgive you." + +"No," said George; "I think that farce was capital, and I shall stay now +and see the end. I am not surprised people like the theatre--I never +enjoyed a laugh more in my life. But there is one thing I have not +liked. That hero of the piece did not scruple to use language for which +he would have been kicked out of any respectable private house--and yet +there are respectable people here, old and young, all listening and +seeming to enjoy it. That shows there is insincerity somewhere; either +these people hush their sensitive feelings in the playhouse, or they are +hypocrites at home, and profess to be much more refined than they really +are." + +"You evidently don't understand plays yet," said Ashton; "that man +depicts a certain style of life, and he must be true to it. If he enacts +the part of a costermonger, he must swear and talk slang, and commit +crimes, if need be, or anything suiting the character he assumes; or +else the thing would be absurd, and the gentleman and costermonger would +be both alike." + +"The theatre must be a 'great teacher of morals,' then, if we come here +to be initiated into the vices of costermongers," said George, rather +sarcastically. + +"George," whispered Hardy, "we've got into a mess; look down in the +pit--Williams and Lawson are there. They have recognized us, and are +nodding--shall we nod?" + +"Yes," said George, and he nodded; but his face was red as crimson. "I +would not have had Lawson and Williams see us here for the world," he +whispered to Hardy; "but it's too late now--as you say, we've got into a +mess." + +Just then the curtain rose again, and the play of the "Serious Family," +commenced. + +The plot of the piece is this:-- + +Mr. Abinadab Sleek and Lady Creamly are two hypocrites, introduced as +ordinary specimens of Christians. They are living in the house of their +daughter and son-in-law (Mr. and Mrs. Charles Torrens), over whom they +exercise a stern and despotic control. Mr. Charles Torrens, "for the +sake of peace and quietness," agrees to all the solemnities opposed upon +him; and is willing to pass himself off in Christian circles as a +co-worker with Mr. Abinadab Sleek. In his heart he detests everything +like seriousness; and whenever an opportunity occurs, on the pretext of +going into the country, indulges in the gaieties and vices of London +fashionable life. He is visited by an old friend, Captain Murphy +Maguire, who persuades him to renounce boldly the sanctimonious customs +of the "Serious Family," and enjoy with unshackled freedom the pleasures +of the world. To this he consents; but he has not courage to alter the +family customs. Captain Maguire aids his plans by convincing Mrs. C. +Torrens that unless she provides in her home those amusements which are +found in the world, her husband will prefer the world to his home. A +conspiracy is laid to oppose the religious tyranny of Mr. Abinadab +Sleek, the result of which is, that a ball is given by Mr. Torrens, +assisted by his wife, who, throwing off her former profession of +Christianity, becomes a woman of the world. On all this their future +happiness as man and wife is made to hinge; and when, through the flimsy +plot of the piece, the tableau arrives, the curtain drops, leaving the +younger members of the "Serious Family" whirling in the giddy dance, +commencing the new era of domestic happiness. + +Throughout the play, Scripture is quoted and ridiculed, religion is made +contemptible, and vice under the name of "geniality, openheartedness, +and merriment," is made to appear the one thing necessary to constitute +real happiness. + +George followed the play through all its shifting scenes; now laughed, +now sighed, now felt the hot blush of shame as he listened to the +atrocious mockery of everything which, from the time he had been an +infant on his mother's knee, he had been taught to regard as good and +pure. He was heated to indignation when the audience applauded the base +character of Maguire, and shuddered when as he thought that a masked +hypocrite was brought before the world as the type of a Christian, and +that a "Serious Family" was only another name for an unhappy, canting +set of ignorant people. + +And yet George did not leave the theatre. He was hurt, wounded to the +heart by what he saw and heard, felt he would have given the world to +have stood up in the box, and have told the audience that the play was a +libel upon everything sacred and solemn; but he stayed and saw it out, +rivetted by that strange, unholy infatuation which has been the bane of +so many. + +"Let us go now, Hardy," he said, as the curtain dropped; "you do not +care to see the ballet, do you?" + +"Oh, in for a penny, in for a pound. While we are here, we may as well +see all that is to be seen. I won't ask you how you liked the comedy. I +want to see something lively now, to remove the disagreeable impressions +it has left upon me." + +And so they stayed, delighted with the music, fascinated with the +graceful dancing, and dazzled with the scenery. At length the curtain +fell, and the evening's performance was over. + +"It is only half-past eleven," said Ashton, when they got outside; "now +we must just turn in somewhere, and get a bit of supper, and then, I +suppose we must separate. There is a first-rate hotel close handy, where +I sometimes dine. What do you say?" + +"Just the place for us," said Dixon; "because we must limit ourselves to +half an hour, and we shall get what we want quickly there." + +As they went into the supper-room, George saw, to his vexation, Lawson +and Williams, with a party of boon companions, seated round a table at +the further end. He instantly drew back; but it was too late, they had +recognised him. + +"Confound it!" he said to Ashton, "there are some chaps from our office, +at the end there. I do not wish to meet them; cannot we go into a +private room?" + +"Certainly," said Ashton; and the party retreated. "But why do you not +wish to meet your fellow clerks?" + +"Because they are a low set of fellows with whom I have nothing in +common." + +When supper was over and the clock had struck twelve, the party +separated. + +"Good night, old fellow," said Ashton to George. "I am sorry we have +not seen quite the sort of play you would have liked; but now you have +seen the worst side of the theatre, and next time we go together we will +try and see the best; so that between the two extremes you will be able +to discriminate and determine what sort of place the theatre is as an +amusement." + +"Thank you, Ashton, for your share in the entertainment to-night. I will +talk to you about the play some other time; but I must say, candidly, I +never felt so distressed in my life as I did while that gross insult to +all good feeling, 'The Serious Family,' was being performed. If you had +said to me what that wretch, Captain Maguire, said in my hearing +to-night, I would not have shaken hands with you again as I do now." + +An omnibus happened to be passing for the Angel at Islington that +moment, and George and Hardy got up. + +"What shall we do with regard to Williams and Lawson?" said Hardy. "They +have got a victory to-night. I fear our protest against theatres and +taverns is over with them for ever now, seeing they have caught us at +both places." + +"I cannot but regret the circumstance," said George, "but it is nothing +to them; they are not our father-confessors, and we are not bound to +enter into any particulars with them. The greatest difficulty with me is +how to manage when I get home. I don't like deceiving my mother; but I +should not like to pain her by saying I have been to the theatre. She +knew I started for the institution, and that I might possibly be late; +so, unless she asks me where I have been, I don't see that there will be +any good in unnecessarily distressing her." + +"The disagreeable thing in such a case is," replied Hardy, "if the fact +comes out afterwards, it _looks_ as if a deception had been practised." + +George and Hardy had never talked together like this before; and they +spoke hesitatingly, as if they hardly liked to hear their own voices +joining to discuss a mean, unworthy, dishonourable trick. + +O temptation! what an inclined path is thine! How slippery for the feet, +and how rapidly the unwary traveller slides along, lower and lower--each +step making the attempt to ascend again to high ground more difficult! +George had made many dangerous slips that night--would he ever regain +his position? + +Mrs. Weston was sitting up for George, and pleased was she to hear, at +last, his knock at the door. + +"Mother, this is too bad of me, keeping you up so late," said George. "I +really did not mean to keep bad hours to-night; but I will turn over a +new leaf for the future." + +"I do not mind sitting up, George, if it is for your good," she +answered; "but I fear you will not improve your health by being so late +as this. Have you enjoyed your meeting to-night?" + +"Pretty well," said George; "but I have been with Ashton, Dixon, and +Hardy since." + +"Then you have not had supper?" + +"Yes, we had supper with Ashton." George got red as he said this. It was +the first time he ever remembered wilfully deceiving his mother. + +"Oh! that has made you late, then," said Mrs. Weston. "I am afraid +Ashton has so many attractions in those apartments of his--what with +friends, books, and curiosities--that you find it difficult to break up +your social gatherings." + +"It is too bad of me to leave you so often, my dear mother; but I don't +mean to go to Ashton's again for some time, unless he comes to see us; +and so I shall return straight home from the institution for a long +while." + +When George retired to his room, he felt so distracted with all that +had taken place, that his old custom of reading a chapter from God's +Word, and kneeling down to pray before getting into bed, was abandoned +for that night. He tried to sleep, but could not. The strains of music +were yet ringing in his ears, and the dazzling light was still flashing +before his eyes. Then the plays came again before him; and he followed +the plots throughout, smiling again over some of the jokes, and feeling +depressed at the sad parts. Then he thought of Williams and Lawson, and +reproached himself for having acted that evening very, very foolishly. +Alas! this was not the right term; it was more than foolishness to +tamper with the voice of conscience, to violate principles which had +been inculcated from childhood, to plot wilful deceit, and act a lie. +Instead of saying he had acted foolishly, he should have said, "Father, +I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight Have mercy upon me, O God! +Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquities, and cleanse me from my sin; for +against Thee, Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil." But George +only said, "I am so very vexed I went with Ashton to-night; it was very +foolish!--very foolish!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE LECTURE. + + +"You look seedy this morning, Mr. Weston," said Williams, as George +entered the office on the following day. "The effect of last night's +dissipation, I suppose. How did you like the play?" + +"Not at all," answered George, mortified and angry at having the +question put to him before all the clerks, who were now informed of the +fact of his having been there. + +"No; I suppose one Abinadab Sleek does not like to hear another one of +the same gang spoken ill of, eh?" + +"I do not understand you," said George. + +"Then, to put it plainer, you and Hardy, who are of the 'Serious Family' +style, don't like to see yourselves taken off quite so true to life as +you were last night at the Adelphi. You saw that old canting Abinadab +Sleek was up to every dodge and vice, although he did seem such a +sanctified individual in public; and our young Solomons, who condemn +wicked theatres and disgusting taverns, can go to both on the sly, and +be as sanctimonious as ever Abinadab was in office." + +George felt his hands clench, and his eyes flash fire. He could bear +taunts from Williams, when he had right on his side, and felt the +consciousness of innocence; but he could not bear it now. + +"You lie," said George passionately, "in drawing that comparison." + +"And you lie continually," said Williams, "in acting a perpetual edition +of that part of the 'Serious Family' represented by Abinadab Sleek." + +"Fight it out I fight it out!" said Lawson. "The Governor won't be here +for half an hour; bolt the door and have it out." + +"Nothing of the kind," said Hardy, stepping forward. "Williams is the +aggressor in this instance; it is nothing to him if Weston and I went to +the theatre every night in our lives; he has no right to interfere; if +he fights it must be with Weston and me, for he insults me as much as my +friend." + +"Then come on," said Williams, taking off his coat, "and I'll take you +both: one man is worth two canting hypocrites, any day." + +But no one had bolted the door, and, to the surprise of all, Mr. +Compton stood before them. + +"What is this?" he said; "young men in my office talking of fighting, as +if it were the tap-room of a public house? George Weston! I did not +think this of you." + +"Do not judge hastily, sir," said Hardy. "My friend Weston has been +grossly insulted by Mr. Williams, and the little disturbance has only +been got up through jealousy, to get him into trouble." + +"Step into my room a moment, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Compton; "and you, +too, Weston and Williams." + +George was flushed with excitement; but his proud, manly bearing, in +contrast to the crest-fallen Williams, won for him the admiration of the +whole staff of clerks. + +Mr. Compton patiently heard from Hardy a recital of the causes leading +to the fray, and was made acquainted with the course of opposition +George had to contend with, from Williams and Lawson, ever since he had +been in the office. + +"I regret this circumstance," said Mr. Compton, "for several reasons. I +have always held you, Weston, in the highest estimation, nor do I see +sufficient cause, from this event, to alter my estimate; but I have +always found my best clerks those who have been in the habit of spending +their evenings elsewhere than in theatres and taverns. I am not +surprised at the part you have taken, Mr. Williams; and it now rests +with you, whether you remain in this office or leave. I will not have +the junior clerks in this establishment held in subjection to those who +have been with me a few years longer; nor will I have a system of insult +and opposition continued, which must eventually lead to unpleasant +results. If I hear any more of this matter, or find that you persist in +your unwarranted insults on Mr. Weston, I shall at once dismiss you from +my service. You did well, Mr. Hardy, in interfering to prevent a +disgraceful fight; and, much as I dislike tale-bearing, I request you to +inform me, for the future, of any unpleasantness arising to Mr. Weston +from this affair." + +Williams was terribly crest-fallen, and the tide of office opinion +turned from him in favour of George and Hardy, who, without crowing over +the victory they had gained, yet showed a manly determination not to +allow an insult which reflected upon their characters. + +"I tell you what it is," whispered Lawson to Williams; "Old Compton +takes a fancy to those two sneaking fellows, and, after this affair, +the office will get too hot for us if we do not draw it milder to them. +If I were you, I should waylay them outside the office and say something +civil, by way of soft soap, so as to nip this matter off, for you've got +the worst of it so far." + +Williams determined to accept the hint Lawson had given him, and when +the office closed, remained in the court until George came out. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, stretching out his hand, which George felt would +be mean-spirited not to take, "that was an unpleasant affair this +morning, but I didn't think you would fire up as you did; and when I let +fly at you, it was only in joke." + +"I must deny that it was a joke," George replied; "it was an intended +insult. Probably you might not have thought it would have produced +indignation in me, because you, evidently, do not understand my feelings +in the matter. However, let the thing drop now. I will not retract what +I said to you this morning, that you lied in forming that estimate of my +character, nor do I ask you to retract your words, unless your +conscience tells you that you wronged me." + +"What I said was hasty, and I don't mind eating all my words," said +Williams; "so, as the song says, 'Come, let us be happy together.' Will +you come into the King's Head, and take a glass of wine on the strength +of it?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "but as it is no wish of mine to live at +loggerheads with any one, here is my hand upon it." + +And then they shook hands, and so the matter ended. But it ended only so +far as Williams was concerned. A day or two afterwards Mr. Brunton was +passing the office, and he called in to say "How d'ye do?" to Mr. +Compton. In the course of conversation he asked how George was getting +on, and whether he continued to give satisfaction. + +"Yes," said Mr. Compton, "I have no fault to find with him; on the +contrary, he is the best junior clerk I ever had, and I trust him with +matters I never placed in the hands of a junior clerk before. But there +was an unfortunate occurrence the other day, which I think it right to +mention to you confidentially." And then Mr. Brunton heard the whole +history of the theatre adventure, and its consequences in the office on +the following morning. He was grieved, deeply grieved. At first he could +not credit the account; but when he heard that George had himself +confessed to the truth of the circumstances before Mr. Compton, and +there was no longer room to doubt, a tear stood in his eye as he thought +of his nephew--that noble, manly boy, whom he loved with all the +affection of a father--stooping to temptation, and acting the part of a +deceiver; for Mr. Brunton had spent an evening with Mrs. Weston and +George, and had heard nothing of his having been to a theatre, nor did +he believe Mrs. Weston was aware of it. + +"What I have told you is strictly confidential," said Mr. Compton; "but +as you are, as it were, the father of George Weston, I thought it only +right that you should know this, in order that you may warn him, if he +has got into the hands of bad companions." + +George was absent from the office during the interview, and did not know +until some days afterwards of his uncle's visit. + +Mr. Brunton went from Falcon-court a sadder man. He was perplexed and +harassed; he could not conscientiously tell Mrs. Weston, as he had +received the information in confidence; he could not speak directly to +George upon the subject, because he would at once have known that Mr. +Compton must have given the statement to his uncle. He was obliged, +therefore, to remain passive in the matter for a day or two, and +resolved to spend an evening that week at Islington. + +In the meantime the affair became known to Mrs. Weston, and in rather a +curious manner. George had worn his best coat on the evening he went to +the theatre; and one day as Mrs. Weston, according to custom, was +brushing it, before putting it away in his drawers, she turned out the +pockets, and, amongst other things, drew forth a well-used play-bill. + +"George has never been to the theatre, surely?" she asked herself. +"Impossible! he would have told me had he done so, for he is far too +high-principled to deceive me." + +But the sight of that play-bill worried Mrs. Weston. She thought over it +all day, and longed for the evening to come, when she might ask George +about it. + +That evening Mr. Brunton had determined to spend at Islington; and as he +was passing Falcon-court, he called for George on his way, and they +walked home together. + +The play-bill happened to be on the table when they entered, and it +caught the eye of both George and Mr. Brunton at once. + +"Where did you get that from?" asked George, colouring, not with the +honest flush of self-respect, but with the burning sense of deceit +detected. + +"I found it in your pocket, George; and as I have never found one there +before, I thought I would leave it out, to ask you how you came by it." + +"I came by it the other night, when I went to the theatre," said George; +for he could not tell a direct falsehood. "I did not tell you of it at +the time, but led you to suppose that I had been at the institution." + +Mrs. Weston was indeed sorry to hear George's account of what had +passed; but Mr. Brunton felt all his old confidence in George restored +by the open, genuine statement he made. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton, "I know you are old enough to manage your +affairs for yourself, without an uncle's interference, but do take from +me one word of caution. I fear you may be led unwittingly into error by +your associates. Do be on your guard--'if sinners entice thee, consent +thou not.' If you feel it right, and can conscientiously go with them +and adopt their habits, I have no right, nor should I wish to advise +you; but if you feel that you are wrong in what you do, listen to the +voice of your better self, and pause to consider. Do not turn a deaf +ear to its entreaties, but be admonished by its counsel, and rather +sacrifice friends and pleasure than that best of all enjoyments--the +satisfaction of acting a part of duty to God and yourself." + +George did not argue the point with his uncle; he felt himself in the +wrong, but could not see his way clear to get right again. + +"I have made so many resolves in my short life," he said, "and have +broken them so often, that I will not pledge myself to making fresh ones +My error, in this instance, has not been the fault of my companionships, +but entirely my own; and, as far as I can see, the chief blame lies in +having concealed the matter from my mother, which I did principally out +of kindness to her. But I will endeavour to take your counsel, uncle." + +Weeks passed away, and with them the vivid memories of that time. George +had at length reasoned himself into the idea that a great deal of +unnecessary fuss had been made about nothing, and instead of weaning +himself from the society of Ashton, they became more than ever thrown +into each other's company. George was a constant attendant at the +institution, where he was surrounded by a large circle of intimate +acquaintances, with whom much of his time was spent. In the office he +had risen in the estimation of the clerks. Williams and Lawson, finding +that opposition was unavailing, altered their conduct towards him, and +became as civil and obliging as they had before been insulting and +disagreeable. George began to think he had belied their characters from +not having known sufficient of them; and instead of shunning them, as he +had hitherto done, sometimes took a stroll with them in the evening +after office hours, and once or twice had dined with them at the King's +Head. + +Imperceptibly, George began to alter. Sooner or later, evil +communications must corrupt good manners; and from continually beholding +the lives of his companions, without possessing that one thing needful +to have kept him free from the entanglement of their devices, he became +changed into the same image, by the dangerous power of their influence +and example. + +A month or two after the theatre adventure, Mrs. Weston received an +invitation to spend a week or two in the country with some relatives, +whom she had not seen for several years. Mr. Brunton persuaded her to +accept it, as the change would be beneficial; and George, knowing how +seldom his mother had an opportunity for recreation, added all his +powers of argument to induce her to go. The only obstacle presenting +itself was the management of the house during her absence. Mr. Brunton +invited George to stay with him while Mrs. Weston would be away; and she +did not like to leave her servant alone in the house with the boarders. +It was at last arranged that George should decline Mr. Brunton's +invitation, and have the oversight of the house during his mother's +absence. + +The first night after her departure, George brought Hardy home with him +to spend the evening, and a pleasant, quiet time they had together. + +"It will be rather dull for you, George," said Hardy, "if Mrs. Weston is +going to remain away for a few weeks. What shall you do on Sunday? You +had better come and spend the day with us." + +"No, I cannot do that, because I promised I would be here, to let the +servant have an opportunity of going to church. But I mean to ask Ashton +to come and spend the day here, and you will come too; and there's +Dixon, he is a nice fellow, I'll ask him to come as well." + +"What is to be the programme for the day?" said Hardy. "Of course it +will be a quiet one." + +"We will all go to church or chapel in the morning, spend the afternoon +together at home, and take a stroll in the evening after the service. +Are you agreed?" + +"I think we shall have a very nice day of it. Let the other chaps know +of it early, and we will meet here in good time in the morning." + +Sunday came, and George's friends arrived as he expected. They were +early, and had time for a chat before starting out. + +"Where shall we go this morning?" asked George. "There is a very good +minister close by at the church, and another equally good at the chapel. +My principles are unsectarian, and I do not mind where it is we go." + +"Don't you think," said Dixon, "we might do ourselves more good by +taking a stroll a few miles out of town, and talking out a sermon for +ourselves?" + +"I am inclined to the belief that nature is the best preacher," Ashton +remarked. "We hear good sermons from the pulpit, it is true; but words +are poor things to teach us of the Creator, in comparison with +creation." + +"I do not agree with you in your religious sentiments, Ashton, as you +know," said George. "Creation tells us nothing about our Saviour, and, +as I read the Scriptures, no man can know God, the Father and Great +Creator, but through Him." + +"And yet, if I remember rightly, the Saviour said that He made the +world, and without Him was not anything made that was made--so that He +was the Creator; and when we look from nature up to nature's God we see +Him, and connecting His history with the world around us, we have in +creation, as I said before, the best sermon; aye, and what the parsons +call a 'gospel' sermon, too." + +"I agree with you," said Dixon; "preaching is all very well in its way, +and I like a good sermon; but the words of man can never excel the works +of God." + +"A proper sermon," replied George, "is not uttered in the words of man; +they are God's words applied and expounded. Nature may speak to the +senses, but the Scriptures alone speak to the heart; and that is the +object of preaching. But you are my visitors, and you shall decide the +point." + +"Then I say a stroll," said Ashton. + +"And so do I," chimed in Dixon. + +"I am for going to a place of worship," said Hardy. + +"And so am I," Ashton replied; "is not all God's universe a place of +worship?" + +"Perhaps so," answered Hardy; "but I mean the appointed and proper +place, where those who try to keep holy the Sabbath day are accustomed +to meet--a church or chapel." + +"I side with Hardy," said George. "But I am willing to meet you halfway. +If I go with you this morning, you must all promise to go with me in the +evening. But bear in mind I am making a concession, and I go for a +stroll under protest, because it is contrary to my custom." + +"All right, old chap," said Ashton. "I never knew anybody's conscience +fit them so uneasily as yours does. But it always did; at school, you +were a martyr to it, and I believe the blame lies at the door of dear +old Dr. Seaward, who persisted in training us up in the way we should +go, just as if we were all designed to be parsons." + +"Poor old Dr. Seaward!" said George. "If he only knew two of his old +scholars were going out for a stroll on Sunday morning to hear nature +preach, I believe his body would hardly contain his troubled spirit." + +"And he would appear before us to stop us on our way--" + +"Like the spirit before Balaam and his ass, seems the most appropriate +simile," said Dixon, "for, if I recollect rightly, Balaam was going +where he should not have gone, and his conscience gave him as much +trouble as Weston's does." + +George did not think and say, as Balaam did, "I have sinned;" but he +felt the sting of ridicule, and determined he would allow no +conscientious scruple to bring it upon him again during that day. + +"After all," he argued with himself, "what is the use of my being +conscientious, for I am so wretchedly inconsistent? I had better go all +one way, or all the other, instead of wavering between the two, and +perpetually showing my weakness." + +It would have puzzled any one to have told what sermon nature preached +to that merry party, as they wandered through green fields and quiet +lanes, talking upon a hundred different subjects, and making the calm +Sabbath morn ring with the strains of their laughter. + +"Your idea of creation's voice is better in theory than in practice," +George said, when they returned home. "Can any of you tell me what the +text was which nature took to preach from, for I have no distinct +remembrance of it?" + +"The text seemed to me to be this," said Dixon, "that 'to everything +there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens--a time +to weep and a time to laugh--a time to keep silence and a time to +speak;' and the application was, that we had chosen the right time for +enjoying much speaking and much laughing." + +The afternoon was not spent as George had been accustomed to spend it. +Light, frivolous conversation, and still more dangerous debate upon +religious subjects, without religious feeling, occupied the time, and +George felt glad when the evening came, and they started off together to +hear a popular preacher, whose merits they had been discussing during +the afternoon. + +On their way thither they passed a large building, into which several +people were entering, and as the outside of the place was ornamented +with handbills, they paused to read them. They ran thus:-- + + "HALL OF SCIENCE.--A Lecture will be delivered in this Hall on + Sunday evening, at half past six, by Professor Martin, on 'The Uses + of Reason.' Young men are cordially invited to attend. + + "What is truth? Search and see." + +"Do you know anything of this Professor Martin?" asked Dixon. "Is he +worth hearing?" + +"A friend of mine told me he had heard him, a little while ago, and was +never better pleased with any lecture," Ashton answered. "Shall we put +up here for the evening?" + +"Is he a preacher, or a mere lecturer?" asked George. The question +attracted the attention of a person entering the Hall; and, turning to +George, he answered:-- + +"Professor Martin is one of those best of all preachers. He can interest +without sending you to sleep, and his discourses are full of sound +wisdom. He is a lover of truth, and advocates the only way to arrive at +it, which is by unfettered thought. In his lectures he puts his theory +into practice by freely expressing his unfettered thoughts. I have seats +in the front of the lecture-room; if you will favour me by accepting +them, they are at your service." + +The plausible and polite manner of the stranger was effectual with +George. + +"I don't think we can do better than go in and hear what the lecturer +has to say," he said to the others. And, assent being given, they +followed the stranger, and were conducted to the proffered seats. + +The audience consisted principally of men, the majority of whom were +young and of an inferior class, such as shopmen and mechanics. There was +a large platform, with chairs upon it, but no pulpit or reading-desk. +When the lecturer, accompanied by a chairman and some friends, entered, +George and his companions were surprised to hear a clapping of hands and +stamping of feet, similar to the plan adopted at public amusements. + +"This does not seem much like a Sunday evening service," said George. +"We have time to leave, if you like; or shall we stay and see it out?" + +"Oh! let us stay," replied the others. + +No hymn was sung, no prayer was offered at the commencement, but the +lecturer, with a pocket Bible in his hands, quoted a few passages of +Scripture, as follows:-- + +"Come now, and let us reason together,"--Isa. i. 18; "I applied mine +heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, and to know the +reason of things,"--Eccles. vii. 25; "And Paul, as his manner was, went +in unto them, and three Sabbath days reasoned with them out of the +Scriptures,"--Acts xvii. 2; "Be ready alway to give an answer to every +man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,"--1 Peter iii. +15. + +The object of the lecturer was to show that no intelligent being could +receive truth unless that truth commended itself to reason, because the +two were never in opposition one with the other. Conscience, he said, +was the soul's safeguard, and reason the safeguard of the heart and +intellect. It was irrational to condemn any course of conduct which +conscience approved, and it was equally irrational to believe anything +that could not be understood. The Word of God might be useful in its +way, but only as studied with unfettered thought. If that Word exalted +reason and then taught inconsistencies and absurdities, reason must +discriminate between the right and the wrong. "For example," he +continued, "if that book tells me that there are three Gods, and yet +those three are one, I reason by analogy and say, here are three +fingers; each one has its particular office; but I cannot make these +three fingers one finger, neither can I make three Gods one God." + +So the lecturer continued, but he did not put his case in so many plain +words as these; every argument he clothed with doubtful words, so as to +make falsehood look like truth, and blasphemy like worship. He was an +educated and intelligent man, gifted with that dangerous power of +preaching the doctrine of devils in the guise of an angel of light, and +handling deadly sophistry with as firm a grasp as if it were the sword +of the Spirit. + +At the conclusion of the lecture he announced his intention to speak +from that platform again on the following Sunday, and invited all who +were inquiring the way of truth to be present, and judge what he said, +"whether it be right, or whether it be wrong." + +As George and his friends were leaving the hall, the stranger, who had +accosted them before, came up, and bowing politely said-- + +"Will you allow me to offer you the same seats, for next Sunday evening? +If you will say yes, I will reserve them for you; otherwise you may have +difficulty in obtaining admission, for the room will, in all +probability, be more crowded than to-night, as Professor Martin was not +announced to lecture until late in the week, and the friends who +frequent the Hall had no notice of his being here." + +"I will certainly come," said Ashton. "I never heard a speaker I liked +better. What say you?" he asked, turning to the others. + +"I am anxious to hear the conclusion of the argument," said George; "so +we will accept your invitation," he added to the stranger, "and thank +you for your kindness and courtesy." + +It was a long conversation the friends had as they strolled along that +evening. To George every argument the lecturer had brought forward was +new; and bearing, as they did, the apparent stamp of truth, he was +utterly confounded. Although he was a good biblical scholar, as regarded +the historical and narrative parts of the Scriptures, he was but ill +informed on those more subtle points which the lecturer handled. He had +never heard the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, disputed, and had +always implicitly believed it; now, when the lecturer quoted Scripture +to prove that truth was to be analysed by reason, and reason rejected +the idea of a Trinity, he was as unable to reconcile the two as if he +had never received any religious instruction at all. + +"If what he advances be true," said George, "how irrational many things +in the Christian religion are! And how singular that men like him, who +'search into the reason of things' for wisdom, and hold opinions +contrary to the orthodox notions of those whom we call Christians, +should be looked upon with suspicion and distrust." + +"No," replied Ashton; "he met that idea by saying that it was not more +than singular, in the early stages of science, for people to be burnt as +witches and magicians, because they made discoveries which are now +developed and brought into daily use, than it is now for men to be +scouted as infidel and profane, because they teach opinions which only +require investigation to make them universally admitted." + +An unhappy day was that Sunday for George Weston. He had violated +principle, made concessions against the dictates of conscience (how poor +a safeguard for him!) and had learnt lessons which taught him to despise +those instructions which had hitherto been as a lamp unto his feet and a +light unto his path. + +"Blessed is the man that _walketh_ not in the counsel of the ungodly, +nor _standeth_ in the way of sinners, nor _sitteth_ in the seat of the +scornful." George little thought how rapidly he was passing through +those different stages on the downward road. Had he never listened to +the council of the ungodly, he would not have walked in the way of evil, +but would have avoided even its very appearance; he would not have stood +in the way of sinners, parleying with temptations, as he had done on so +many occasions; nor would he have occupied that most dangerous of all +positions, the fatal ease of sitting in the seat of the scornful. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +GETTING ON IN THE WORLD. + + +"Mr. Compton wishes to speak with you, Weston," said Mr. Sanders, the +manager, to George one morning, during the visit of Mrs. Weston in the +country. + +"Good morning, Weston," said Mr. Compton; "I want to have a few minutes' +conversation with you: sit down. You have been in my office now more +than a twelvemonth, and I promised that you should have an increased +salary at the expiration of that time. Your services have been very +valuable to me during the past year, and I am in every way satisfied +with you. As a tangible proof of this, I beg your acceptance of this +little present," (handing him a ten-pound note,) "and during this year +on which you have entered, I shall have much pleasure in giving you a +salary of two guineas a week." + +"I am exceedingly obliged to you sir," George stammered out, for he was +flabbergasted at the kindness of his employer; "I hope I may always +continue to do my duty in your office, and deserve your approbation." + +"I hope so, too;" said Mr. Compton, "both for your sake and for my own. +If you continue as you have begun, there is a fair field before you, and +I will advance you as opportunity occurs. Now, apart from business, I +want one word with you. I kept you purposely last year upon a low +salary, because I have found that sometimes it is beneficial to young +men to have only a small income. With your increased salary, you will +have increased means for entering that style of life which is, +unfortunately, too universal with young men--I mean the gaieties and +dissipations of a London life are now more open to you than they were +before. But what is termed a 'fast' young man never makes a good clerk, +and I do hope you will not allow yourself to fail into habits which will +be obstacles to your future promotion." + +"I will endeavour, sir, always to maintain my position in your office," +said George; "and I feel very grateful to you for the interest you take +in my personal welfare." + +George was in high spirits with his good fortune. He had not expected +more than a guinea, or at the utmost thirty shillings a week increase +for his second year, and had never dreamt of receiving so handsome a +present as L10. By that night's post he sent off a long letter to his +mother, giving her an account of the interview, and of his future +prospects. + +But George had different ideas about his future now, to those he +cherished a twelvemonth back. Then he thought only of himself and his +mother; how happy they would be together, and how much he would +endeavour to contribute to her enjoyment. Now he congratulated himself +that he would be upon a footing with his friends, that he could do as +they did, and that he had the means to follow up those recreations which +were becoming habitual to him. For since Mrs. Weston had been away, +George had gone step by step further on unhallowed ground. Even Ashton +said, "Weston, you are coming it pretty strong, old fellow!" and Hardy +had declared that he could not keep pace with him. Night after night, as +he had no one at home to claim his presence there, he had been to +theatres and other places of amusement. Sunday after Sunday he had +attended the lectures at the Hall of Science, and abandoning himself to +the tide which was hurrying him along, he floated down the dangerous +stream. + +The principles of infidelity which had been inculcated, appealed to him +with a voice so loud as to drown the appeals from a higher source. The +one approved his conduct, the other condemned it--the one pointed to the +world as a scene of enjoyment, the other as at enmity with God. George +felt that if he would hold one he must resign the other. He had not that +moral courage, or rather he had not the deep-rooted conviction of sin, +or the earnest love and fear of God, to enable him to burst through the +entanglements of the world and the world's god, and choosing whom he +would serve: he loved darkness rather than light. + +When Mrs. Weston returned, after a month's absence, she could not but +observe an alteration in George. Although he never told her of his +attendance at the lectures on Sunday, or the arguments he had had with +friends who held infidel opinions, she soon perceived that George's +feelings were undergoing a rapid and dangerous change. Those subjects on +which he was once in the habit of conversing with her, he now carefully +shunned. He was affectionate and kind to his mother still, and loved her +with all his old intense love, but that ingenuous confidence which he +had always reposed in her was gone. Things that were dear to him now he +could not discuss with her; instead of telling her how he spent his +time, and what were his amusements, he avoided any mention of them. The +deception which he first practised on that night when he yielded to +Ashton's persuasion, was now a system. He reasoned the matter over with +himself: there could be no good in telling her; their opinions were +different; he would take his course, independently of hers. + +Uncle Brunton noticed the change; for to those who saw him seldom the +change was sudden. But to George, every day there seemed an epoch, and +he was unconscious of the rapidity with which old associations and ideas +cherished from childhood were thrown down and trampled upon by the new +feelings which had taken possession of him. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton to him one day, "I am growing uneasy about +you. I feel that I am not the same to you, nor you to me, we used to be, +only a few months back. I cannot tell the reason--cannot tell when the +difference commenced or how--but for some months past--ever since your +mother's visit to the country--there has been a want of that old +confidential, affectionate intercourse between us there used to be." + +"I was younger then," said George, "and the freshness of youthful +feeling and attachment may die away as we advance in years; but I am not +aware that I have ever given you occasion to say I do not love you +sincerely still, uncle. Your kindness to me never can, and never will be +forgotten." + +"Well, George, I cannot explain what I mean. I have a kind of feeling +about you that something is wrong which I cannot put into words. I fancy +that if I offer you a word of counsel, you do not receive it as you once +did; if I talk seriously with you, it does not make the same impression, +or touch the spring of the same feelings. You do not talk to me with the +old frankness and candour which made my heart leap, when I thanked God I +had got some one in the world to love, and who loved me. But perhaps I +wrong you, and expect too much from you." + +"No, not that, uncle. Frankness, candour, and love are due to you, and +while I have them they shall always be yours; and to prove it, I will +tell what I have never told any one before, what I have hardly spoken to +my own heart. I think of the George Weston you brought away from Dr. +Seaward's, who stood with you beside a father's deathbed, and who, +eighteen months ago, went into Mr. Compton's office; then I think of +George Weston of to-day, and I feel amazed at the change a few years has +made. I have asked myself a hundred times, am I really the same? Oh, +uncle! you do not know what I would give to be that boy again--to live +once more in that old world of sunshine." + +Tears started to George's eyes as he spoke, and Mr. Brunton could only +squeeze his hand, and say, "God bless you, my boy! God bless you!" + +A few days later Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston were one whole evening +together talking about George. Both hearts were heavy, but Mr. Brunton's +was the lighter of the two. + +"I tell you what I think will be the very best thing for you and for +George," he said, "It is now the early spring, and the country is +beginning to look fresh and green. Leave this house and take one in the +country. I think George can easily be made to accede to this +proposition--he was always fond of country life and recreations. He can +have a season ticket on the railway, and come down every night. This +will wean him from his associates, and induce him to keep earlier hours, +and give us, too, a better opportunity to lure him back to his old +habits of life." + +The arrangements were made. Mrs. Weston, with that loving self-denial +which only a mother can exercise, gave up the house, and her circle of +friends, and took up her residence in the country, about twenty miles +from London. George was pleased with the change, and acquiesced in all +the plans which were made. + +About this time, an event happened of considerable importance in the +family history. An old relative of Mrs. Weston's, from whom she had +monetary expectations, died; and upon examination of the will, it was +found that a legacy had been left her of about three thousand pounds, +which was safely invested, and would bring to her an income of nearly a +hundred and fifty pounds a year. + +This was a cause of fear and rejoicing to Mrs. Weston--fear, lest it +should be a snare to George, as he would now have the whole of his +salary at his own disposal, there being no longer any necessity for her +to share it; rejoicing, that she should be able to give him that start +in life which had always been the desire and ambition of Mr. Weston. + +A few months' trial of Mr. Brunton's plan for weaning George from the +allurements of society in London, by taking a house in the country, +proved it to be a failure. For the first month, George went down almost +immediately after leaving business, but it was only for the first month. +Gradually it became later and later, until the last train was generally +the one by which he travelled. Then it sometimes occurred that he lost +the last train, and was obliged to stay at an hotel in town for the +night. At length, this occurred so frequently, that sometimes for three +nights out of the week he never went home at all. On one of these +occasions, a party of gentlemen in the commercial room of the hotel +where he was staying proposed a game of cards, and asked George to make +one at a rubber of whist. George had often played with his own friends, +but never before with total strangers. However, without any hesitation, +he accepted the invitation, and yielded to the proposition that they +should play sixpenny points. The game proceeded, rubber after rubber was +lost and won, and when George rose from the card-table at a late hour he +was loser to the amount of thirty shillings. + +"There is no playing against good cards," said George; "and the run of +luck has been in your favour to-night; but I will challenge you to +another game to-morrow evening, if you will be here?" + +The next night George played again, and won back a pound of the money +he had lost on the preceding evening. This was encouraging. "One more +trial," said George to himself, "and nobody will catch me card-playing +for money again with strangers." But that one more trial was the worst +of all. George lost three pounds! He could ill afford it; as it was he +was living at the very extent of his income, and three pounds was a +large sum. He was obliged to give an I O U for the amount, and in the +meantime borrow the sum from one of his friends. + +"Hardy, have you got three pounds to lend me?" he asked, next morning; +"you shall have it again to-morrow." + +"I have not got that sum with me," said Hardy, "but I can get it for +you. Is it pressing?" + +"Yes; I had a hand at cards last night, and lost." + +"What! with Ashton?" + +"No; with some strangers at the hotel where I have hung out for the last +night or two." + +"You shall have that sum early this evening, George; and twice that +amount, if you will make me one promise. I ask it as an old friend, who +has a right to beg a favour. Give up card-playing, don't try to win back +what you have lost; no good can possibly come of it" + +"Is Saul among the prophets?" asked George, with something like a +sneer. + +"No, George Weston: but a looker-on at chess sees more of the game than +the player; and I have been looking at your last few moves in the game +of life, without taking part with you, and I see you will be checkmated +soon, if you do not alter your tactics. I can't blame you, nor do I wish +to, if I could; but when I first heard you had taken to card playing, I +did feel myself among the prophets then, and prophesied no good would +come of it." + +"When you first heard of my card playing?" asked George. "When did you +hear of it?" + +"A few days since. My father came up from the country by a late train +one night, and stayed at the hotel you patronize. There he saw you, and +told me about it." + +"Confound it! a fellow can't do a thing, even in this great city, +without somebody ferretting it out. But I don't mean to play again. I +have made a fool of myself too many times already; and it serves me +right that I have lost money." + +That evening, while George was making his way to the hotel, a lady was +journeying towards the railway station. An hour later, she was at the +house of Mrs. Weston, and was shown into the drawing-room. + +"I must apologise," said Mrs. Hardy, for it was she, "in calling upon +you at this hour: but I am very anxious to have some conversation with +you." + +"It is strange," said Mrs. Weston, "that as our sons have been intimate +so long, we should have continued strangers; but I am very delighted to +see you, Mrs. Hardy, for I have heard much of you." + +"It is with regard to the intercourse between your son and mine that I +have called. I do not wish to alarm you; but I feel it right that you +should be in possession of information I have of your son." + +Mrs. Hardy then narrated the circumstances connected with her husband's +visit to the hotel on the evening when he found George there card +playing. + +"This evening," she continued, "my son returned home earlier than usual, +and went to his drawer, where I saw him take out some money--two or +three sovereigns. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and after +some difficulty I ascertained he intended lending it to your son. It +occurred to me at once that George Weston was in trouble with those men; +and I thought it only right that you should know." + +It was kind of Mrs. Hardy to shew this interest, and Mrs. Weston +esteemed her for it. But had they stood beside the table at which George +was seated while they were talking, or could they have seen the flush of +excitement as he threw down the cards, exclaiming, "By Jove! I've lost +again!" and have watched the flashing eye and heaving breast, they would +have felt, even more keenly than they did, how futile were words or +sympathies to check the evil. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP. + + +We pass over two years of George Weston's life--years full of strange +experiences--and look into the office in Falcon-court one morning in the +summer of 18--. + +Mr. Compton is away on the Continent for a holiday tour, Mr. Sanders is +still the manager, and nearly all the same old faces are in the office. +George, who is now verging on the legal age of manhood, has risen to a +good position in the establishment, and is regarded as second only to +Mr. Sanders. He is wonderfully altered from when we saw him first in +that office. He is still handsome; but the old sparkling lustre of his +eye has gone, and no trace of boyishness is left. + +Hardy is still there. Two years have not made so much difference in him +as George. He looks older than he really is; but there is no mistaking +him for the quiet, gentlemanly Charles Hardy of former days. Lawson and +Williams are there, coarse and bloated young men, whose faces tell the +history of their lives. Hardy rarely exchanges a word with them. George +does more frequently, but not with the air of superiority he once did. + +A close observer would have noticed in George that morning a careworn +anxious look; would have heard an occasional sigh, and have seen him at +one time turning pale, and again flushing with a crimson red. + +"You are not well," said Hardy. "You have not done a stroke of work all +this morning; quite an unusual thing for you, George." + +"I am not well," he replied; "but it is nothing of importance. I shall +get Mr. Sanders to let me off for an hour's stroll when he comes in from +the Bank." + +Mr. Sanders came in from the Bank, but he was later than usual. His +round generally occupied an hour; this morning he had been gone between +two and three. George watched him anxiously as he took off his hat, +rubbed his nose violently with his pocket handkerchief, and stood gazing +into the fire, ejaculating every now and then, as was his custom if +anything extraordinary or disagreeable had happened, "Ah! umph!" + +"The old boy has found out that the wind has veered to the northeast, +or has stepped upon some orange peel," whispered Lawson to Williams, who +saw that something had gone wrong with the manager. + +"Your proposed stroll will be knocked on the head," said Hardy to +George. "Mr. Sanders is evidently in an ill humour." + +"I shall not trouble him about it," said George; "shirking work always +worries him, and he seems to be worried enough as it is." + +When Mr. Sanders had gazed in the fire for half an hour, and had walked +once or twice up and down the office, as his manner was on such +occasions, he turned to George and said, "I want to speak with you in +the next room." + +"I wish you a benefit, Weston," said Williams as he passed. "Recommend +him a day or two in the country, for the good of his health and our +happiness." + +"Mr. Weston," said the manager, when George had shut the door and seated +himself, "I am in great difficulties. This event has happened at a most +unfortunate time, Mr. Compton is away, and I don't know how to act for +the best. Will you give me your assistance in the matter?" + +"Cannot you make the accounts right, sir?" asked George. "I thought you +had satisfactorily arranged them last night." + +"No, Weston; I have been through them over and over again, but I cannot +get any nearer to a balance. I have been round to the Bank this morning +again, and have seen Mr. Smith about it, but he cannot assist me. +However, inquiries will be made this afternoon, and all our accounts +carefully checked and examined; in the meantime, I wish you would have +out the books and go through them for me. Hardy can assist you, if you +like." + +"I will do all I can for you, to make this matter right," said George; +"but I can do it better alone. If you will give Hardy the job I was +about, I will check the books here by myself." + +All that afternoon George sat alone in Mr. Compton's room surrounded +with books and papers. But he did not examine them. Resting his head +upon his hands, he looked upon them and sighed. Now the perspiration +stood in big drops upon his forehead and his hands trembled. Then he +would walk up and down the room, halting to take deep draughts of water +from a bottle on the table. + +Mr. Sanders occasionally looked in to ask how he was going on, and if he +had discovered the error. + +"No," said George; "the accounts seem right; but I cannot make them +agree with the cash-book. There is still a hundred pounds short; but I +will go through them again if you like." + +"Perhaps you had better. I expect Mr. Smith here by six o'clock; will +you remain with me and see him? He may assist us." + +"Certainly," said George; "I feel as anxious as you do about the matter, +for all the bills and cheques have passed through my hands as well as +yours; and I shall not rest easy until the missing amount is +discovered." + +Mr. Smith arrived just as the clerks were leaving the office, and Mr. +Sanders and George were alone with him. + +"Well," said Mr. Smith, "we have gone carefully over every item to-day, +and at last the defalcation is seen. This cheque," he continued, +producing the document, "is forged. The signature is unquestionably Mr. +Compton's, but the rest of the writing is counterfeit." + +"A forged cheque!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, aghast; "impossible!" + +"There must be some mistake here," said George, "the accounts in our +books, if I recollect rightly, correspond with the cheques; but--" + +"It is a clumsily arranged affair, although the forgery is a +masterpiece of penmanship," said Mr. Smith; "and if it passes first +through your office, and is entered in your books with the false amount, +it is clear that some one in your employ has committed the offence. I +leave the matter now with you for the present," he added, to Mr. +Sanders; "of course you will put the case at once into the proper medium +and find out the offender." + +When Mr. Smith had gone, George sat down again in the seat he had +occupied during that long afternoon, pale and exhausted. + +"This is a lamentable business," said Mr. Sanders, pacing the room, "a +lamentable business, indeed! I confess I am completely baffled. Mr. +Weston, I look to you for assistance. Can you form any idea how this +matter has come about? Have you suspicion of any of the clerks?" + +"I am equally at a loss with you how to manage in this case. I have no +reason to doubt the integrity of any one in this office. Except one," +said George, as if a sudden idea had come to his mind. "Yes, I have a +suspicion of one; but I cannot tell even you who it is, until I have +made inquiries sufficient to warrant the suspicion. Can you let the +affair rest over to-night, and in the meantime I will do what I can, and +confer with you in the morning." + +"That seems the only plan," answered Mr. Sanders. "If I can render any +assistance in making these inquiries, I will." + +"No, thank you, you will have trouble enough in the matter as it is; and +I can do what I have to do better alone." + +Half an hour after this conversation, a cab was travelling at the utmost +speed along the Clapham road. It stopped at the house of Harry Ashton, +and George alighted. + +"Ashton," said he, "I want to speak to you for two minutes. I have got +into trouble; don't ask me how, or in what way. Unless I can borrow a +hundred pounds to-night, I am ruined. Can you get it for me?" + +"My dear George, sit down and calm yourself, and we will talk the matter +over," said Ashton. "It strikes me you are up to some joke, or you would +never suppose that I, an assistant surveyor with a present limited +income, could fork out a hundred pounds down as a hammer. + +"I am not joking. I dare not explain more. I require your confidence for +what I have already said; but I know you have money, and moneyed +friends. Can you get it for me anyhow, from anywhere?" + +"No, I cannot, and that's plump," answered Ashton; "it is the end of the +quarter, and I have not more than ten pounds in my pocket You are +welcome to that, if it is any good; but I cannot go into the country to +my father's to-night, that is very certain; and if I could, he would not +advance so much without knowing exactly what it was for; nor should I +care to lend that sum, even to you, George, unless I knew what you were +going to do with it, and when I should see it back. If it is so +pressing, you might have my ten, ten more from Dixon, and I could get a +pound or two from other sources." + +"No, that would take too long, and I have but an hour or two to make the +arrangements." As he spoke, George fell into a chair, and buried his +face in his hands. + +"What, George, my old pippin, what is the matter?" said Ashton, going to +him. "You have lost at cards again, I suppose: but take heart, man, +never get out of pluck for such a thing as that. But you are ill, I know +you are, you are as white as a sheet. Here, take tins glass of brandy." + +"I only feel faint." said George, rising. "I shall be all right when I +get out into the open air. Good-bye, Ashton, my old school-chum, we +shall never meet again after to-night; but I shan't forget our happy +days together--I mean the days at Dr. Seaward's--they were the happy +ones, after all." + +"George, you are ill, and your brain is touched. Not meet again after +to-night? Nonsense, we don't part so easily, if that is the case;" and +Ashton locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. + +"Unfasten that door!" almost shouted George; "you do not know my +strength at this moment, and I might do you some harm; but I should not +like to part with my oldest friend like that. Open the door!" + +"Not a bit of it," answered Ashton. "Tell me more particulars, and I +will try what I can do in getting the money." + +"No; you have told me you cannot. I have one more chance elsewhere; let +me try that. Ashton, do not be a fool; open that door, and let me go." + +"Then I will go with you," answered Ashton; and he unlocked the door. +But while he turned to get his hat, George rushed from the room, opened +the hall-door, and, closing it again upon Ashton, jumped into the cab +awaiting him, and giving the word, "Islington, quick!" drove off, +leaving his friend in the road, running after the vehicle, and calling +upon the driver to stop. + +"Don't mind him," George called to the man; "an extra five shillings for +driving quickly." + +Ashton was at his wit's end. He ran on, till he could run no longer. +Just then, an empty cab passing, he hailed the driver. + +"Drive after that cab in front," said Ashton, as he got in; "follow it +wherever it goes. Sharp's the word, man!" + +It was a long time before the traffic in the roads allowed Ashton's cab +to overtake the one ahead; but both came up nearly abreast in the +Waterloo road, and then the one he was pursuing turned abruptly towards +the railway station. + +"Ah! George, my old fellow," said Ashton to himself, "you little think I +have been so closely on your scent; but I knew I had not seen the last +of you." + +Both cabs drew up at the station steps together. Ashton jumped out, and +ran to meet George; but blank was his astonishment to see an oldish lady +and her attendant alight from the vehicle, which he had imagined +contained his friend! + +We will leave Ashton at the Waterloo station in a mortified and +disconsolate state, quarrelling with the driver for having pursued the +wrong cab, and follow George Weston to Islington. + +"Hardy," he said, as soon as he found himself alone with his friend, +"are you willing to help me, to save me, perhaps, from ruin? I want to +raise a hundred pounds to-night. I must have it. Do you think you can get +it for me?" + +"Me get a hundred pounds? Why, George, my friend, you know the thing is +a clear impossibility. I could not get it, if it were to save my own +life. But why is it so urgent?" he asked. + +"You will know in a day or two. I have now one resource left, and only +one. Will you go to-night to my uncle, Mr. Brunton. Tell him that I want +to save a friend from ruin, and want to borrow a hundred and fifty +pounds, which shall be faithfully repaid. Do not give him to understand +I want it for myself, but that it is for a friend dear to him and to me. +Use every argument you can, and above everything persuade him not to +make any inquiries about it at present. Say I shall have to take part of +it into the country to-morrow morning, and I will see him or write to him +in the evening. Say anything you like, so that you can get the money +for me, and prevent him coming to the office to-morrow morning." + +"George, I am afraid you have got into some bad business again," said +Hardy. "You know I am willing to help you; but I cannot do so, if it is +to encourage you in getting yourself into still greater trouble." + +"This is the last time, Hardy, I shall ever ask a favour of you. Do +assist me; you cannot guess the consequences if you do not." + +"Then tell me, George, what it is that is upsetting you. I never saw you +look so wild and excited before. You can confide in me, old fellow; we +have always kept each other's counsel." + +"To-morrow you shall know all. Now, do start off at once, and see what +you can do. If you cannot bring all the money, bring what you can. Put +the case urgently to my uncle; he cannot refuse me. I will be here again +in about three hours' time; it will not take you longer than that." + +Hardy took a cab, and drove off at once. George remained in the street; +he paced up and down, and took no rest--he was far too excited and +nervous for that. He had got a dangerous game to play, and his plans +were vague and shadowy. He had promised Mr. Sanders he would make +inquiries about the person he suspected had forged the cheque, and let +him know in the morning. His plan was to try and raise the money, pay it +to Mr. Sanders on account of the transgressor, and induce him to take no +further steps until Mr. Compton returned home. On no other ground would +he refund the money on behalf of the forger; and unless Mr. Sanders +would agree to these terms, George was determined the matter might take +its own way, and be placed in the hands of the magistrates or police. + +The hours seemed like days to George while Hardy was on his mission. At +length he returned. + +"What success?" asked George running to meet him as soon as he came in +view. + +"Your uncle is in a terrible state of alarm on your account," replied +Hardy, "and I fear he will be at the office some time to-morrow, although +I tried to persuade him not to do so, because it was no matter in which +you were so deeply interested as he supposed. But he cannot lend you the +money, nor can he get the amount you want until to-morrow afternoon. +However he had fifty pounds with him, and he has sent that." + +George took it eagerly. "My plan must fail," he said to Hardy; "but it +would only have been a question of time after all. Hardy, you will hear +strange reports of me after to-morrow; do not believe them all; remember +your old friend as you once knew him, not as report speaks of him. +Good-night, old fellow, you have been a good friend to me. I wish we +could have parted differently." + +"Parted!" ejaculated Hardy; "what do you mean? where are you going?" + +"I cannot tell, but I shall see you at the office to-morrow morning as +usual; I will tell you more then. Do not say a word to anybody about +what has occurred to-night. I know I may trust you; may I not?" + +"Yes, always," answered Hardy; "but I wish you would trust me a little +more, and let me share this trouble with you. We have been old friends +now for years, George; shared ups and downs, and joys and sorrows +together; been brothers in everything which concerned each other's +welfare: and now you are distressed, why not relieve yourself by letting +me bear part of it with you? Recollect our old and earliest days of +friendship, and show that they are still dear to you, as they are to me, +by telling me what has gone wrong with you, and how I can serve or +soothe you in the emergency." + +George could not bear this last touch of kindness. Had Hardy reproached +him for having acted foolishly, or warned him from getting into future +trouble; had he even accused him of having sought to lead others astray, +besides wandering in downward paths himself, George could have listened +calmly and unmoved! but this out-going of his friend's heart overcame +him, and he burst into tears. + +"Good night, Hardy," he said, wringing his friend's hand. "If a prayer +may come from my lips, so long unused to prayer, I say God bless you, +and preserve you from such a lot as mine." George could not utter +another word; he could only shake hands again, and then hurried away to +the hotel where he sometimes slept. + +It was past midnight when he arrived there. Calling for some spirits and +water, and writing materials, he seated himself dejectedly at a table +and wrote. The first letter ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAREST MOTHER, + + "I have some painful news to tell you--so painful that I would rather + you should have received intelligence of my death, than that which + this letter contains. I know you will not judge me harshly, dear + mother; I know you will stretch out to me your forgiveness, and + still pray for me that I may receive pardon from _your_ heavenly + Father--would I could say _mine_. + + "Step by step I have been going wrong, as you know--as I might have + known--and now I have sunk to the lowest depths, from which I shall + never rise again. Mother, I know the sorrow you will feel when you + hear what has happened. I grieve more for you than I do for myself; + I would give all the world, if I had it, to save your heart the + misery which awaits it, from the conduct of a worthless, rebellious + son. + + "I cannot bear to see that sorrow. My heart seems nearly broken as + it is, and it would quite break if I were to see you suffering as + you will suffer. + + "I could not bear to see again any whom I have known under other + circumstances. I could not bear to be taunted with all the + remembrances of the past. Dear mother, I have resolved to leave + you--leave London--perhaps leave England. I _may_ never see you + again; it is better for you that I never should. + + "My tears blind me as I write; if tears could cleanse the past, my + guilt would be soon removed. God bless you, dearest mother! I will + write to you again; and some day, after I have been into new scenes, + started anew in life, and won back again the character I have + lost--then, perhaps, I may once more see you again. + + "Uncle Brunton will tell you more. He will comfort you; he must be + husband, brother, and son to you now. + + "God bless you, my dearest mother! I have so wronged you, have been + such a continual trouble to you, instead of the comfort poor father + thought I should have been, and so unworthy of your love, that I + hardly dare hope you will forgive and forget the past, and still + pray for + + "Your erring Son-- + + "GEORGE WESTON." + +George then wrote two letters to Mr. Brunton. In one of them he thanked +him for all his care and kindness, passionately regretted the causes of +anxiety he had given him, and the disgrace which now attached to his +name. In the other, he begged the loan of the L50 sent to him through +Hardy, which, he said, he hoped to pay back in a few years. He also +requested that Mr. Brunton would arrange all his accounts, and pay them +either from his mother's income, or by advancing the money as a loan. + +When the morning dawned, it found George still writing. As the clock +struck seven, he packed up what few things he had with him, paid his +hotel bill, and drove off to Falcon-court. He was there by eight +o'clock, before any of the clerks had arrived. + +"Have the letters come?" he asked the housekeeper. + +"Yes, sir, they are in Mr. Compton's room," was the answer. + +George hastened into the room, looked through the packet, and alighting +upon a letter with a foreign post-mark addressed to Mr. Sanders in Mr. +Compton's handwriting, he broke the seal. The note was short, merely +saying that he had arrived in Paris, on his way home, and expected to be +back in a day or two; therefore any communications must be forwarded at +once, or he would have left Paris. + +George went direct to the Electric Telegraph Office. A form was handed +to him, on which the message he desired to send must be written, and he +filled it up thus:-- + + "_From Mr. Sanders to Mr. Compton_. + + "Come back at once. A cheque has been forged in your name for + _L100._ George Weston is the forger. It is a clear and aggravated + case. Shall he be arrested? Will you prosecute? Answer at once." + +In an incredibly short space of time an answer was returned. George was +at the Telegraph Office to receive it. + + "_From Mr. Compton to Mr. Sanders._ + + "I will return to-morrow. Take no steps in the matter; let it be + kept silent, I am deeply grieved, but I will not prosecute under any + circumstances." + +"Well, Mr. Weston," said Mr. Sanders, when George entered the office," +I expected you would have been here before; but I suppose you have had +some difficulty in your investigations?" + +"I have had difficulty," George answered. "I have been endeavouring to +borrow a hundred pounds to pay the deficiency, and then I would have +screened the forger; but my plan has failed, and it is better that it +should, because the innocent would have been sure to have suffered for +the guilty. I am now bound to tell you the name of the criminal upon his +own confession." + +"Who is it? who is it?" asked Mr. Sanders, eagerly. + +"I--George Weston," he answered. "No matter how I did it, or why; I +alone am guilty." + +Mr. Sanders caught hold of the back of a chair for support. His hands +trembled, and his voice failed him. + +"It is a shock to you, sir," said George; "and it will be a shock to Mr. +Compton. Give him this letter when he comes home, it will explain the +circumstances to him. I deeply regret that I should have caused you so +much anxiety as I have during the past week, while this inquiry has been +pending. I knew the truth must come out sooner or later--but I would +rather you should know it from me; crushed and ruined as I am, I have no +hope that you will look with any other feelings than those of abhorrence +on me, but you do not know the heavy punishment I have already suffered, +or you would feel for me." + +"Are you aware, George Weston, that there is a yet heavier punishment, +and that, as Mr. Compton's representative, I shall feel it my painful +duty to--" + +"No, sir; here is Mr. Compton's opinion upon the case," said George, +handing the telegraphic message to Mr. Sanders, who listened with +astonishment as he explained the circumstances. "But should Mr. Compton, +upon a careful examination into the case, wish to prosecute," he +continued, "I will appear whenever and wherever he pleases. And now, Mr. +Sanders, I leave this office, ruined and disgraced, the result of my own +folly and sin." + +George spoke hoarsely, and his face was pale as Death. Mr. Sanders was +moved; and put out his hand to shake hands with him, and say good-bye, +but George held his back. + +"Remember, sir, you are an honest man; you cannot shake hands with me," +said George. + +"Weston, I am not your judge; there is One who will judge not only this +act, but all the acts that have led to it," said Mr. Sanders, solemnly. +"I have had more interest and greater hopes in you than in any young man +who ever came into this office; and I feel more sorrow now, on your +account, than I can put into words. Do not let this great and disastrous +fall sink you into lower depths of sin. If you have forfeited man's +respect and esteem, there is a God with whom there is mercy and +forgiveness. Seek Him, and may He bless you! Good-bye, George Weston," +and the manager, with tears in his eyes, wrung the cold, trembling hand +that was stretched out to his. + +George took up his carpet-bag, which he had brought from the hotel, and +was about to leave, but he paused a moment. + +"Will you send Hardy in here?" he asked Mr. Sanders. "I must have a word +with him before I go." + +Hardy had been expecting all the morning to have some explanation from +George, and had been uneasy at his absence. When he went into Mr. +Compton's room he was surprised to see George, with his bag in his hand, +ready to make a departure. + +"Hardy," said George, "I told you last night I should soon have to bid +you good-bye, and now the time has arrived. I am going away from the +office, and perhaps from England, but I cannot tell you where I am +going. I leave in disgrace; my once good name is now blighted and +withered; my old friends will look upon me with abhorrence." + +"No, George, I am one of your old friends; I never shall," interrupted +Hardy. "I do not know what you have done, nor do I wish to know, but I +cannot believe your heart and disposition are changed, or will ever +change so much as to make me regard you in any other light than that of +a dear and valued friend. But where are you going, George? Do tell me +that." + +"No, Hardy, I cannot. I am going away, God only knows where; it may be +abroad, it may not. I am going somewhere where I shall not be known, and +where I can try to work back for myself a character and a good name, +which I can never redeem in London. Some day I may let you know where I +am." + +"But, George, does your mother know where you are going?" + +"No," said George, and his voice was tremulous as he spoke. "No; I have +no mother now. I am too fallen to claim relationship with one so good +and noble and holy as my mother is." + +"Oh, George, give up this wild scheme! Have you thought that you are +going the most direct way to break your mother's heart, and to make her +life, as well as your own, blank, solitary, and miserable? Whatever +wrong you have done, do not add to it by breaking that commandment which +bids us honour our parents. Your mother has claims upon you which you +have no right to disregard in this way." + +"I have thought it all well over, Hardy. I believe it is for her good +as well as for mine that our paths should run differently, but I cannot +explain all now. I am in dread lest my uncle should call here before I +get away. Hardy, good-bye, old fellow." + +"No, I cannot say good-bye yet. George, give me your address; promise to +let me see you again, and I will promise to keep your secret sacredly." + +"I do not know where I am going; I have no fixed plan; but I do promise +to write to you, Hardy." + +"And now, George, make me one other promise. If you are in difficulties, +and I can assist you, or do anything for you in any way, at any time, +you will let me know--remember I shall always be Charles Hardy to you, +and you will always be George Weston to me. Do you agree?" + +"Yes, Hardy, I agree. I cannot thank you. I cannot say what I would, or +tell you what I feel. May you be blessed and be happy, and never know +what it is to have a heavy, broken heart like mine. And now one promise +from you. Go and see my mother; try and comfort her; tell her how I +grieve to part from her." + +George could not continue; the nervous twitching of his face showed the +struggle within, and it was a relief when the hot tears broke through +and coursed down his cheek. Hardy was greatly affected. He loved George +with an intensity of love like that which knit together the soul of +Jonathan and David; he had been to him more than a brother ever since +they had been acquainted; in hours of business and recreation, in joys +and sorrows, in plans and aims, they had been one; and now the tie was +to be severed, and severed under such sad circumstances. + +There is a solemnity about sorrow which speech desecrates. Not another +word was spoken by either--both hearts were too full for that; but as +the tears ran thickly down their cheeks, they grasped each other's hand, +and then, fairly sobbing, George hurried from the office. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +IN EXILE. + + +George went direct from the office to the railway station, and took a +ticket to Plymouth. He had but a short time to wait before the train +left, and bore him away. The green fields and smiling country were +nothing to him; he felt no pleasure in seeing the merry, happy children +playing in the lanes, as the train whizzed past. The greetings of +friends on the platforms at the different stations only made him sigh. +Who would greet him on his journeys? Tired and worn out with sleepless +nights and anxious days, he tried to doze, but the attempt was vain. He +feared lest some one might have tracked his steps to the station, and +have telegraphed for him to be stopped at the terminus. Then, when he +had thought and pondered over such probabilities as these, and +endeavoured to dismiss them, he tried to form some plans for the future; +but all the future was dark--no ray of light, however faint or distant, +could be seen, and every plan he would make must be left to +circumstances. When the passengers alighted at one of the stations to +take refreshments, George got out too, for the purpose of breaking his +long fast. He tried to eat a biscuit, but he could not get it down,--all +appetite was gone; so, drinking a glass of ale, he wandered to the book +stall, and purchased a newspaper to read during the remainder of the +journey. The train started off again, and George settled himself to +read. The first thing that met his eye was an account of the assizes, +and the first case was headed, "Forgery by a Banker's Clerk." This +brought back to remembrance, more vividly than ever, the sad scenes of +the past few days; he threw the paper out of the window, and abandoned +himself to thought. + +At last the train arrived at Plymouth. George hastened on to the +platform, and walked rapidly into the town, fearing lest any one should +recognize him, or lest any official should wish to detain him. With his +bag in hand, he wandered through the streets, uncertain what to do or +where to go. Presently he came to a small house, in an obscure street, +with a placard in the window stating that apartments were to let. He +knocked, and was answered by the landlady, a respectable looking woman, +who told him that she had a bedroom and sitting-room to let, and would +accommodate him on reasonable terms. George said he should not require +the room more than a few days, or a week, as he was about to leave by +one of the vessels in the port. The terms were arranged, and he at once +took possession. As it was very late, he thought he would go to bed +without delay. + +"Will you not have some supper first?" asked the landlady. + +"No, thank you," said George: "I am tired with my journey, and shall be +glad to get to sleep as soon as I can." + +"But, sir, you really look ill," persisted the landlady, who was a kind, +motherly woman; "will you let me make you a little spirits and water?" + +"I will not refuse that," said George, "for I do feel ill. Parting with +friends and relatives is at all times a disagreeable matter, and I have +bidden good-bye to them in London to-day, rather than bring them down +here." + +"Ah, sir! parting is a sad thing," answered the woman. "It is two years +since my son went to sea; he was much about your age, sir, and he went +away against my wish, and I have never seen or heard from him since. He +has nearly broken my heart, poor boy, and left me all alone in this +wide, hard world." + +George was glad to have some one to talk to, but he was distressed by +this narration of his landlady. If she mourned for her son, who had been +absent for two years, how would his mother mourn? + +George passed a restless, anxious night; when he dozed off to sleep, it +was only to be tormented with harrowing dreams, in which he fancied +himself at one time standing before a judge in a court of justice, +answering to the crime of forgery. At another, gazing upon a funeral +procession moving slowly and solemnly along, with his Uncle Brunton +following as sole mourner. Then he would start up, half with joy and +half with sorrow, as he fancied he heard voices like those of his mother +and uncle calling to him from the street. His head ached, and his heart +was heavy. He felt thankful when the morning dawned, and it was time to +rise. He bathed his hot, feverish head in water, and dressed; but as he +passed by the looking-glass and caught a glance at his pale, haggard +countenance, so changed within a few short hours, he started. + +"Oh, God! give me strength! give me strength!" he said. "If I should be +ill, if anything should happen to me, what should I do? I am all alone; +there is no one to care for me now!" And he sank down in a chair, +burying his face in his hands as if to hide the picture his mind had +drawn. + +After breakfast, he strolled to the docks, looked over some of the +vessels, and made inquiries about the shipping offices. He learned that +a ship was about to sail immediately to Port Natal, and that all +information could be obtained of the agents. Thither George repaired; +the agent gave him an exaggerated account of the signal prosperity which +all enterprising young men met with in Natal, praised Pietermaritzburg, +the capital of the colony, and offered to give him letters of +introduction to residents there, who would advise him as to the best +ways of making a comfortable living. The agent then took him down to the +vessel, told him that he must take a passage at once, if he wished to +leave by her, as she would sail in two or three days at the latest. It +was a matter of comparative indifference to George where he went--the +large, lonely world was before him, and Port Natal might make him as +good a home as anywhere else. George went back with the agent to the +office, and paid a deposit of fifteen pounds on the passage money. + +"What is your name, sir?" asked the agent, with pen in hand, ready to +make the entry. + +George coloured as he answered, "Frederick Vincent." + +"Then, Mr. Vincent, you will be on board not later than nine o'clock on +Tuesday morning; the vessel will go out of harbour by twelve. You can +come on board as much earlier as you like, but I have named the latest +time. You had better send your luggage down on Monday." + +"Luggage?" said George. "Oh, yes! that shall be sent in time." + +As George returned to his lodgings, he felt even more wretched than when +he started out It was Wednesday morning, and the vessel would not leave +till the following Tuesday. The excitement of choosing a vessel was +over; there was now only the anxiety and suspense of waiting its +departure. True, he had his outfit to purchase, but this would have to +be done furtively; he could not bear to be walking in the streets in +broad daylight, noticed by passers-by, every one of whom he fancied knew +his whole history, and was plotting either to prevent his departure, or +to reveal his secret. + +Mrs. Murdoch (that was the name of his landlady) endeavoured to make him +as comfortable as possible in his apartments; but external comfort was +nothing to George--he wanted some word of love, some one to talk to, as +in days of old. He avoided conversation as much as possible with Mrs. +Murdoch, for she would talk of her absent son, and every word went as an +arrow to George's heart. + +That first day seemed a week. Hour after hour dragged wearily along, and +when six o'clock in the evening came, George thought all time must have +received some disarrangement, for it seemed as if days had elapsed since +the morning. He went out after dark to a neighbouring shop and made some +purchases of outfit; but he was thankful when he had completed his task, +for he had noticed a man walking backwards and forwards in front of the +shop, and he felt a nervous dread lest it should be some spy upon him. +He resolved that he would remain in his rooms, and not go out again +until he left for the voyage on Tuesday, but would ask Mrs. Murdoch to +make the remainder of the necessary purchases for him. + +How lonely and desolate George felt that night! More than once he half +determined rather to bear shame and reproach, and have the society of +those he loved, than continue in that dreadful isolation. He was +thoroughly unmanned. "Oh, that Hardy or Ashton were here, or any friend, +just to say, 'George Weston, old fellow,' once more; what a weight of +dreariness it would remove!" Then he would wonder what was going on at +home, whether his mother was plunged in grief, or whether she was +saying, "He has brought it all on himself, let him bear it." But George +could not reconcile this last thought; he tried hard to cherish it; he +felt he would infinitely rather know his mother was filled with anger +and abhorrence at his crime, than that she mourned for him, and longed +to press him to her bosom and bind up the wounded heart. But he could +not shake off this last idea. It haunted him every moment, and added to +the weight of sorrow which seemed crushing him. + +Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed, and George was still the victim +to anxiety and corroding care. He had paced his room each day, and +tossed restlessly in his bed each night; had tried reading and writing, +to while away the time, and had found every attempt futile. + +Mrs. Murdoch was anxious on his account. + +"Mr. Vincent," she said to him, "you eat nothing, you take no exercise; +you don't sleep at night, for I can hear you, from my room, tossing +about; and I am doctor enough to know that you are ill, and will be +worse, if you do not make some alteration. Do be persuaded by me, and +take some little recreation, or else you will not be in a fit state to +go on board on Tuesday." + +"You are very kind, Mrs. Murdoch," replied George, "but I have no bodily +ailment. If I could get a change of thought, that is the best physic for +a mind diseased." + +"It is, sir," replied the landlady; "and now will you think me rude if I +tell you how you may have that change of thought? You are about to start +on a very dangerous voyage; for long months you will have the sky above +and the sea below, and only a few planks between you and death. Have +you, sir, committed your way to the Lord, and placed your life in His +hands? I know it is a strange thing to ask you, but I hope you will not +be offended. You have seemed so sad for the past day or two, that I +could not help feeling you wanted comfort, and none can give it but the +Heavenly Friend." + +"I do want comfort and support, Mrs. Murdoch, but--" + +"No, sir, there is no _but_ in the case. 'Come onto Me, all ye that are +weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest'--is said to all; and +we only have to go to Him to find all we want." + +"Well, Mrs. Murdoch, I will see if I cannot combine both your +suggestions; and as to-morrow will be Sunday, it will be a recreation to +go to some church or chapel. Can you recommend me a good preacher?" + +"Yes, sir, that I can. If you will go to my pew at chapel to-morrow +morning, I am sure you will like the gentleman who preaches there." + +"Then I will go," said George. + +When he went up to his room again, those few words of Mrs. Murdoch were +still speaking to him. + +"'Weary and heavy laden!' he thought; surely that is my lot. I so young, +once so happy, to feel weary and heavy laden; how strange! But no, it is +not strange--it is natural. Sin brings its punishment, and it is hard +work, bearing its burden! oh! that I could find some spot where I could +rest." + +There was a spot, not far from George, where he could have rested, but +he did not know it. He was oppressed with his weariness, and he longed +for peace and ease of mind to come to him. He did not consider the +words, "Come unto ME." + +There was an old Family Bible on the book-case in his room, and George +took it down. It was a long time since he had read the Word of God: and +when he had it was only to compare it with the dangerous opinions he had +received, and find out what he imagined to be its discrepancies and +contradictions. A feeling of remorse came over him as he put the book on +the table. + +"What right have I to open this book, or attempt to find anything here +for encouragement?" he asked himself. "I have mocked and ridiculed it in +days of prosperity, and yet I am willing to take it up in trouble, as if +it were an old friend. Ah! it was an old friend once, but that has all +gone by now." + +He sat a long time looking at the book. Perhaps there is nothing that +brings back the memories of the past more vividly than the sight of a +Family Bible to one who has long ceased to read and love it. There are +old scenes of childhood associated with it which time can never erase. +Who cannot remember sitting on his mother's knee, or with chair drawn up +beside his father, hearing its sweet music sounded in the home circle on +the Sabbath night? Who can forget the last evening of the holidays +before going back to school, when the old book was brought out, and some +useful text was selected as a monitor and remembrancer? Who can forget +the time when some loved one was ill, and as friends and relatives sat +round the bed of the invalid, the Book was laid upon the table, and +words of comfort were proclaimed to all. + +Many and many a scene moved past George in the mental panorama which the +sight of Mrs. Murdoch's book created. He seemed not to be remembering, +but to be living in the former days. There was his father seated in the +old arm-chair, with Carlo, the faithful dog at his feet, and his elbows +rented upon the table, and his head upon his hand--a favourite +attitude--as he read the Sacred Word. There was dear old Dr. Seaward, +with his spectacles stuck up on his forehead, in his study at +Folkestone, and a party of boys round him, listening eagerly to the +words of instruction and advice which fell from his lips. + +And then the past merged into the present, and George started to find +himself alone in a strange room, in a strange town, with a strange Bible +before him. + +He opened the Book and read. The fifty-first Psalm was the portion of +Scripture to which he inadvertently turned, commencing, "Have mercy upon +me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness; according unto the +multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions." + +He read the Psalm through in amazement. Again he read it, with +increased wonder and astonishment, that any one should have made a +prayer so exactly like that which he felt in his heart he wanted to +pray; and at last he went to the door and locked it, for fear of +interruption, took the Bible from the table and placed it on a chair, +and kneeling down read the prayer again; and repeating it aloud, +sentence by sentence, offered it up as his petition to the throne of +Mercy. + + * * * * * + +On Sunday morning, when the bells were ringing their glad peals, and the +people were already in the streets, on their way to the different places +of worship, George started off, directed by Mrs. Murdoch, to the chapel +of which she had spoken to him. + +He felt very sad as he walked along; it was the last Sunday, perhaps, he +should ever spend in England, and he must spend it alone, an alien from +all whom he loved. The temporary calm which he had experienced on the +previous evening had gone; no prayer for assistance through the day had +issued from his lips that morning, but there was the old feeling of +shame, and chagrin, and disgrace, which had haunted him for the past +week, and with it the dogged determination to bear up against it until +it should be lost in forgetfulness. But George had resolved to go to +chapel that morning, because he felt he wanted a change of some sort, +and there was a melancholy pleasure in spending a part of his last +Sunday in England after his once customary manner. + +The preacher was an old gentleman, of a mild, benevolent countenance, +and with a winning, persuasive manner. When he gave out the first hymn, +reading it solemnly and impressively, George felt he should have +pleasure in listening to the sermon. The congregation joined in the hymn +of praise, with heart and voice lifted up to the God of the Sabbath in +thanksgiving. The singing was rich and good, and George, who was a +passionate lover of music, was touched by its sweet harmony. He did not +join in the hymn, his heart was too full for that; but the strains were +soothing, and produced a natural, reverential emotion which he had been +long unaccustomed to feel. + +The minister took for his text the words, "'Lord, if thou wilt, thou +canst make me clean.' And Jesus put forth His hand, and touched him, +saying, 'I will, be thou clean.'" + +A rush of joy thrilled through George as he heard the words. His +attention was rivetted as he listened to the simple story of the leper +being restored to health; and when the preacher drew the comparison +between leprosy and sin, and revealed Jesus as the Great Physician to +the sick soul, who, in reply to the heartfelt wish, could say, "Thy +sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee," George felt the whole +strength of his soul concentrated in that one desire, "Lord, if thou +wilt, thou canst make _me_ clean." He looked into his own heart--he was +almost afraid to look--and saw the ravages of disease there. He thought +of his past life; there was not one thing to recommend him to God. +NEVER before had he seen his sin in the light in which it was now +revealed by God's Word. He had viewed it in relation to man's opinion, +and his own consciousness; but now the Holy Spirit was striving within +him, and showing him his position in the sight of God. + +The preacher went on to unfold the sweet story of the Cross, to tell of +the simple plan of salvation, and to point to Jesus, the Lamb of God, +"who taketh away the sins of the world." It seemed to George as if he +had never heard the glad tidings before; it had never made the hot tear +run down his cheek, as he thought of the Saviour suffering for sins not +His own, until now; it had never before torn the agonised sigh from his +heart, as the truth flashed before him that it was he who had helped to +nail the Holy One to the accursed tree; he had never realised before +that earth was but the portal to the heavenly mansions--that time was +but the herald of eternity. Now, all these things came crowding upon his +mind, and when the sermon concluded he was in a bewilderment of joy and +sorrow. + +A parting hymn was sung--that glorious old hymn-- + + "There is a fountain filled with blood, + Drawn from Emmanuel's veins." + +When it came to those lines-- + + "The dying _thief_ rejoiced to see + That fountain in his day; + And there may I, though vile as he, + Wash all my sins away:" + +he could bear it no longer: he could not restrain the torrent of tears +which was struggling to get free; he could not stay in that assembly of +people; he must be alone, alone with God, alone with his own heart. + +When he reached his apartments, he went immediately to his room, and +there, beside his bed, he knelt and poured out his soul to God. Words +could not tell his wants, words could not express his contrition; but +there he knelt, a silent pleader, presenting himself with all the dark +catalogue of a life's sin before his dishonoured God. + +George thought he had experienced the extremity of sorrow during the few +days he had been in Plymouth, but it was as nothing compared with that +he now felt. He had grieved over name and reputation lost, prospects +blighted, and self-respect forfeited, but now he mourned over a God +dishonoured, a Saviour slighted, a life mis-spent. Is there any sorrow +like unto that sorrow which is felt by a soul crushed beneath the sense +of sin? + +How that day passed, George hardly knew. He felt his whole life +epitomised in those few hours spent in solemn confession. Oh, how he +longed to realise a sense of pardon--to know and feel, as the leper knew +and felt, that he was made clean. But he could not do so: he only felt +himself lost and ruined, and found expression but in one cry, "Unclean! +unclean!" + +He was aroused in the evening by the ringing of church bells again; and, +taking a hasty cup of tea, at Mrs. Murdoch's solicitation, he once more +bent his steps to the place of worship he had visited in the morning, +with the earnest desire and prayer that he might hear such truths +taught as would enable him to see Jesus. + +How often does God "_devise means_ that His banished be not expelled +from Him," and in His providential mercy order those events and +circumstances to occur, which are instrumental in preparing the mind for +the reception of His truth! It was no chance, no mere coincidence, that +the preacher took for his text those words which were associated with so +many recollections of George, "_for me to live is Christ_." + +Simply, but earnestly, he drew pictures of life, in its many phases, and +contrasted them with the one object worth living for. Upon all else was +written, vanity of vanities--living for pleasure was but another name +for living for future woe: living for wealth was losing all; living for +honour was but heaping condemnation for the last day: while living for +Christ gave not only pleasure, and riches, and honour here, but +hereafter. Then he spoke of the preciousness of Jesus to those who +believe, as the sympathising Friend, and the loving Brother; of the +honour and joy of living for Him who had died to bring life and +immortality to light; and of that "peace which passeth understanding." + +That night there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over a +new-born soul. As George listened to the voice of the preacher, there +fell from his eyes as it had been scales, and he saw the Father running +to embrace the returning prodigal, and felt the kiss of His forgiving +love. The words which his earthly father had last spoken to him, were +those chosen by his heavenly Father to show him his new blissful +relationship as a son. And at what a gracious time! George was a +wanderer, an outcast, without father or friend, without object or aim in +life, and the doors of heaven were thrown open to him; the sympathy of +Divine love was poured into that aching heart, and the words of +rejoicing were uttered, "This, MY SON, was dead, and is alive again; was +lost, and is found." + +The weary one was at rest, the heart of stone palpitated with a living +breath, "The dead one heard the voice of the Son of God, and lived." + +Who can sympathise with George as he sat in his room that night, +overwhelmed with joy unspeakable? He was a new creature in a new world; +old things had passed away, behold all things had become new. He looked +up to heaven as his home, to God as his Father, to Jesus as his great +elder Brother; and he realised his life as hidden with Christ in God, +redeemed and reconciled, henceforth not his own, but given to Him who +had washed him, and made him clean in His own blood. + + * * * * * + +Great joy is harder to bear than great sorrow. George had suddenly gone +from one to the other extreme, and at a time when he was suffering from +physical prostration, the result of such strong mental struggles. + +"Mr. Vincent, it is nine o'clock," Mrs. Murdoch called out, as she +knocked at his door next morning. No answer was returned. + +"Mr. Vincent, will you come down to breakfast, sir?" she repeated more +loudly, but with no greater success. + +Again she knocked, wondering that George should sleep so soundly, and be +so difficult to arouse, as he was accustomed to answer at the first +call. + +"Mr. Vincent, breakfast is waiting!" + +No answer coming, Mrs. Murdoch was anxious; she knew George had been +really ill for several days past, and had noticed his strange manner on +the previous evening. Without further hesitation, she opened the door, +and there on the floor lay George Weston, insensible, having apparently +fallen while in the act of dressing. + +Calling for assistance, she at once laid him upon the bed, applied all +the restoratives at hand, and without a moment's delay despatched a +messenger to the chemist in the next street, with instructions for him +to attend immediately. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MAKING DISCOVERIES. + + +"Will you grant me leave of absence for to-day?" Charles Hardy asked Mr. +Sanders, a few minutes after George had left the office, on the gloomy +and eventful morning when he disclosed the secret of his guilt. + +"I hardly know what to say--what to do," answered Mr. Sanders, puffing +and blowing; "business will come to a stand-still--the shutters had +better go up at once. But if you want particularly to be off to-day, I +suppose I must manage to spare you." + +"I may want several days, sir; but if that should be the case, I will +return to the office to-morrow in time to see Mr. Compton immediately he +comes back" + +It was but the work of five minutes for Charles to write a short note, +change his office coat, and prepare to start The note was addressed to +Mr. Brunton, care of Mr. Sanders till called for, and ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR SIR, + + "Do not be more uneasy than necessary about George. I think I have a + clue by which his address may be ascertained. If so, I will report + progress to you to-night; but I leave this note for you, in order to + allay the distress you will feel in learning he is not here. Rest + assured of my earnest desire to serve my dear friend, and to relieve + him if possible. My time and services you may command in this cause. + In haste, + + "Yours very faithfully, + + "CHARLES HARDY." + +Hardy had a clue, it is true; but it was a very faint one. He had +noticed, upon the table of Mr. Compton's room, a "Bradshaw's Railway +Guide;" and as he had not seen one there previously, he imagined it must +have been brought in by George, with his carpet-bag and other things, +and there left. One page of the book was turned down; Hardy had eagerly +opened it, and found it referred to the departures from the Great +Western Station. + +"I'll go on at once to that station," he thought. "He told me he might +be leaving England; perhaps he has gone to Liverpool, Plymouth, or Cork, +or some shipping place that can be reached by this line. At all events, +I have no other chance but this." + +With all speed Charles drove off to Paddington. Diligently he conned +over the intricate mysteries of "Bradshaw" as he journeyed along, +endeavouring to ascertain when trains would be leaving for any of the +places to which he had imagined his friend might be going. It is hardly +necessary to say he could not find what he wanted; but his anxiety and +suspense were relieved by the search. + +Before alighting at the station, Hardy carefully glanced all around to +ascertain that George was not in sight; for it was not his intention to +speak to him or endeavour to turn him from his purpose, knowing that, in +his present excited state he would stand no chance whatever of +frustrating his friend's plans, but would rather be adopting the most +certain means of destroying his own. Hardy's present object was only to +try and find out to what part George would travel, and then communicate +with Mr. Brunton and get his advice how to proceed. + +Cautiously he walked along the platform, looking into every +waiting-room, and making inquiries of the porters it they had seen any +one answering to the description he gave of George. This course proving +futile, he went to the ticket-office, and consulted a time-table, to +find whether any train had recently left for any of the places which, he +felt convinced, were the most probable for George to choose. An hour or +two had elapsed since the last train left, and George had not had more +than twenty minutes' start ahead of him. He took down in his pocket-book +the time for the departure of the next train; and then choosing a +secluded spot in the office, where he would be out of observation, and +yet able to see all who came up for tickets, he waited patiently until +the slow, dawdling hand of the clock neared the hour. + +Hardy felt the chances were fifty to one that while he was waiting there +George might be at some other station, leaving London without a trace to +his whereabouts; he thought whether, after all, George might not have +purposely, instead of accidentally, left the "Bradshaw" with that +particular page turned down, in order that, should he be sought, a wrong +scent might be given; and even if he intended to travel by this line and +to one of these particular places, might he not choose nighttime as the +most desirable for his object? But Hardy had _purpose_ in him; he would +not throw away the strongest clue he had, although that was faint, and +he resolved to stay there until midnight, it need be, rather than +abandon his design, + +His patience was not put to such a test as this. While he was standing, +with palpitating heart, behind that door in the booking office, George +was in the porters' room, not a hundred yards off, waiting with deeper +anxiety for the clock to point to the hour when the train should start. +Presently, the first bell rang. A number of people, with bags and +packages in hand, came crowding up to the ticket office, but George was +not there. Hardy could scarcely refrain from rushing out to look around. +What if he should get into a train without a ticket, or send a guard to +procure one for him? A hundred doubts and fears were pressing upon him, +and--the second bell rang. Two or three minutes more, and the train +would be off. At the moment he was consulting his pocket-book to see how +long a time must elapse before the next train would leave, he started +with joyful surprise to see George walk hurriedly up to the office and +obtain a ticket. As hurriedly he disappeared. "Now is my chance," +thought Hardy. + +"Where did that young man take his ticket for?" he asked the clerk, as +soon as he had elbowed his way past the few remaining persons who were +before the window. + +"Which one?" said he; "two or three young men have just taken tickets." + +"I mean the last ticket but one you issued?" + +"Plymouth." + +"Hurrah!" cried Hardy, to the astonishment of the clerk, who probably +would not have given the information, had he not thought the inquirer +wanted a ticket for the same place. + +Hardy was too cautious, even in the moment of his surprise, to let his +object be lost by over-haste; he knew it would not be wise to let +himself be seen, and though he longed to rush after George and say, +"Good-bye, cheer up, old chap!" he only allowed himself the painful +pleasure of looking through the window of a waiting-room, and seeing his +old friend and chum, sad and solitary, get into the carriage. Shriek +went the whistle, and away went the train. Whether it whizzed along so +rapidly, or the smoke and steam enveloped it, or from whatever cause it +was, Charles Hardy found his sight growing dimmer, until a mist shut out +the scene. + +From the station Hardy went home. He wanted to tell his parents some of +the occurrences of the day, and let them know of his expected absence. +He knew that he had difficulties to meet. George had always been kindly +received by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy; they both liked him, and were glad when +he came to spend an evening at their house. But latterly they had been +rather anxious about the growing intimacy between him and their son, and +often had a word of caution been given that Charles should be very +careful how far he allowed his friend to influence him. + +Now Hardy could only tell his parents that George had got into worse +trouble than ever--such trouble that he was obliged to leave his +situation, and had decamped, no one except himself knew where. Of course +Mr. and Mrs. Hardy would not put a good construction upon the affair. He +anticipated they would say, "Well, I always feared he would come to +this;" and would try to dissuade Charles from having anything more to do +with him. It was not to be expected they would look with such leniency +upon the matter as he would. Therefore, it was with no small difficulty +he proceeded, immediately upon reaching home, to tell them of what had +occurred. It was a short story, and soon told. + +"Now, father," said Hardy, before allowing him time to bring objections +to the part he had performed that day, "I have promised Mr. Brunton to +assist in finding George, and I have told Mr. Sanders I may be away some +days from the office. I know Mr. Compton will not object to this; if +that is all, I can have this leave of absence instead of the holiday he +promised me next mouth. George must be found; if I can help it, he shall +not leave England--at all events, not in this way. I know it will kill +Mrs. Weston, if he does." + +"Well, Charles, I know your kindheartedness, and I appreciate it; but I +cannot give my consent to the plan. Recollect, by associating yourself +with your former friend now, you do injury to yourself; he has got +himself into disgrace--he must bear the burden of it. What will Mr. +Compton think, when he hears that you--you who have always maintained +such strict integrity--have gone off after a dishonest, runaway clerk?" + +"I never wish to run counter to your opinions, father, if I can help it; +but I must do so now, George Weston is my friend--not _was_ my friend, +as you said just now--and I would not act such a cowardly part as to +desert him. Don't be vexed at what I say; I know you advise for my good; +but you do not know how I feel in this matter. Suppose our positions +were changed, and I had done as George has done--there is no +impossibility in such a case--I am too weak against temptation to doubt +that had I been placed in the circumstances similar to his, I might have +done the same, Suppose I had, what would you have thought of me? Should +I have been your dishonest, runaway son, to whom all friendship must be +denied, and who might be left to bear any burden alone, because I had +brought it upon myself? No, father; you would be the first to seek and +comfort me, and the first to cry 'Shame!' upon any of my friends who +turned and kicked me the moment I had fallen." + +Mr. Hardy could not resist the force of his son's argument, nor could he +refrain from admiring the genuineness of his friendship for George, and +the manly determination he had formed to assist him. + +"Well, Charles," he said, "I do not blame you for taking this course. I +hope it may be serviceable to your friend, and without any injury to +yourself." + +"Do not fear, father. And now I must pack up a few necessaries in my +bag, and be off to Mr. Brunton's. If I do not return home to-morrow, do +not be uneasy about me, and I will write to you every day to say how +things are going on." + +When Hardy arrived at the house of Mr. Brunton, he found him, as he +anticipated, in a high state of nervous anxiety. + +"I am so thankful you have arrived, Mr. Hardy," he said, shaking him +warmly by the hand: "and I need not tell you Mrs. Weston has been +waiting with great impatience to see you." + +"Mrs. Weston! is she here?" + +"Yes; not many minutes after you had left the office I called there, and +received the sad news about--about George. I at once telegraphed to Mrs. +Weston to come up to town, and it needed no urging to hasten her, for +she had only a short time before received a letter from him, which had +filled her with alarm. But let us go to her at once," said Mr. Brunton, +leading the way to the drawing-room; "she entreated I would bring you to +her the moment you arrived." + +As Hardy entered, Mrs. Weston sprang to meet him. + +"Have you found George?--where is he?" she asked, and the look of +struggling hope and despair was touching to witness. + +"I have not found him, Mrs. Weston, but I know the place of his present +destination. He has gone to Plymouth;" and then Hardy briefly explained +the incidents of the morning. + +"I cannot tell you how thankful I am to you, Mr. Hardy," said Mrs. +Weston, as he concluded. "May God bless you for your kindness to my pool +George!" + +"George would have done more for me, Mrs. Weston," Hardy replied; "but, +at present, little or nothing has been done. Have you any plans, and can +I help you in them?" + +"We must go on as soon as possible to Plymouth, and find out where he +is. He may perhaps be on the eve of starting away by some of the vessels +in the port. Not a minute should be lost." + +"Then, sir, I will go down to Plymouth by the mail train which leaves in +about a couple of hours, if you will let me; and I promise you that I +will do my best to find him," said Hardy. + +This unexpected proposition removed an infinite burden from Mr. +Brunton's mind. He felt that it was his duty to see Mr. Compton at once, +and he had other engagements which made it impossible for him to leave +that night. He did not like Mrs. Weston travelling alone, in her present +anxious and desponding state, and had been at his wit's end all day to +know how to manage. + +"But, Mr. Hardy, can you go? Have you consulted your friends at home? +Can you manage to get leave of absence from the office?--remember they +will be short of hands there," asked Mr. Brunton. + +"I have made all arrangements at home, sir and my only difficulty is +about Mr. Compton. But if you will please see him as soon as he returns, +and explain why I have left, I am sure he will not be displeased. He was +so fond of George, I know he would have said 'Go, by all means,' had he +been at home." + +"I will undertake to set the matter right with him about you," said Mr. +Brunton; "but I doubt whether he will ever allow me to mention poor +George's name. Oh! Hardy, this is a sad, sad business!" + +"It is, sir; but it is sadder for George than for his friends," replied +Hardy. "I cannot bear to think of the trouble he is passing through at +this moment. It has cost him much to take the step he has taken, and +everything must be done to get him back from his voluntary banishment" + +"And everything shall be done that can," said Mr. Brunton. "God grant he +is still in England! I feel sure the sight of his mother and his friends +sorrowing for him, instead of turning against him as he supposes, will +alter his determination." + +"Mr. Hardy, may I place myself under your protection until my brother +joins us at Plymouth?" said Mrs. Weston, abruptly. "I will go down by +the mail train to-night; I cannot rest until he is found." + +Arrangements were speedily made, and that night the train bore off Mrs. +Western and Charles Hardy to Plymouth. + +On the following morning Mr. Brunton called at Falcon-court. Mr. Compton +had not yet arrived, but was expected hourly. Not wishing to lose time, +which that morning was particularly precious to him, he asked for some +writing materials, and seating himself in Mr. Compton's room, intended +to occupy himself until his arrival. After he had been there about +half-an-hour, his attention was arrested by hearing the door of the +clerk's office open, and an inquiry made. + +"Is Mr. George Weston here?" + +"Mr. Weston has left the office," answered Williams, who came forward to +answer the inquiry. "Left yesterday morning." + +"Indeed! Where has he gone to? why did he leave?" + +"I don't think anyone knows where he has gone to," answered Williams; +"and I am not disposed to say why he left." + +Williams did not know why he had left, nor were the circumstances of the +case known to any of the clerks; but many surmises had been made which +were unfavourable to him, and it was with the exultant pleasure a mean +spirit feels in a mean triumph, that Williams had at last an opportunity +of speaking lightly of the once good name of George Weston, to whom he +had ever cherished feelings of animosity. + +"Is Mr. Compton in, or the manager?" asked the visitor. "I am +exceedingly anxious to know what has become of my friend." + +"Between ourselves," said Williams, "the less you say about your friend +the better. It strikes me--mind, I merely give you this confidentially +as my impression--that, when Weston turns up again, his friends will not +be over-anxious to renew their acquaintance." + +"What do you mean? I do not understand you." + +"What I mean is this. When a clerk is dismissed from an office during +the absence of the principal, leaves suddenly and has to hide +himself--more particularly when accounts at the banker's do not quite +balance--one cannot help thinking there is a screw loose somewhere." + +Mr. Brunton overheard all this; he who had never before heard an +unfavourable sentence spoken against his nephew. He had not fully +realised until that moment the painful position in which George's crime +had placed him, nor the depth of his nephew's fall in position and +character. He longed to have been able to stand up in vindication of +George against the terrible insinuations of Williams; he would have been +intensely thankful if he could have accosted the stranger, and said, +"That man is guilty of falsehood who dares to speak against the good +name of my nephew." But there he stood, with blood boiling and lips +quivering, unable to contradict one sentence that had been uttered. + +"If Weston _does_ turn up," continued Williams, "will you leave any +message or letter, or your name, and it shall be forwarded?" + +"My name is Ashton," said the stranger; "but it is unnecessary to say +that I called. It does not do to be mixed up with matters like these. I +half feared something of the sort was brewing, but I had no idea tilings +would have taken so sudden a turn." + +Mr. Brunton could restrain his impatience no longer. + +"Mr. Ashton," he said, coming suddenly upon the speakers, "will you +favour me by stepping inside a minute or two? I shall be glad to speak +to you." + +Ashton was taken by surprise at seeing Mr. Brunton where he least +expected to see him. + +"I have been placed in the uncomfortable position of a listener to your +conversation in the next room," said Mr. Brunton, closing the door; "and +I cannot allow those remarks made by the clerk with whom you were +talking to pass unqualified." + +"They need little explanation, sir," said Ashton. "George Weston has +been on the verge of a catastrophe for some months, and I believe I can +fill in the outline of information which you heard given me." + +"I am in ignorance of the causes which have led to my nephew's +disgrace," answered Mr. Brunton; "nor am I desirous to hear them from +any lips but his. You were one of his most intimate friends, I believe, +Mr. Ashton?" + +"Yes; I think I may say his most intimate friend." + +"And you knew he was on the 'verge of a catastrophe.' I have no doubt +you acted the part of a friend, and sought to turn his steps from the +fatal brink?" + +"Well, as to that, he was fully competent to manage his own affairs +without my interference. I did tell him he would come to grief, if he +did not give up playing." + +"And did you add to that advice that he should quit those associates +who had assisted to bring him to such a pass?" + +"Certainly not; why should I meddle with him in his companionships? You +speak, Mr. Brunton, as if I were your nephew's keeper. If George Weston +liked to live beyond his means, he was at liberty to do it for me. I am +sorry he made such a smash at last, but it is all that could be +expected. If ever you see George again, sir, you will oblige me by +conveying one message. I did not think when he came to me, two nights +ago, to try and borrow a hundred pounds, that he intended to mix me up +in any disgraceful business like that of this morning. Had I known it, +instead of fretting myself about his welfare, he should have--" + +"Made the discovery," interrupted Mr. Brunton, "that he never had a +friend in you. My idea of a friend is one who seeks the well-being of +another; speaks to him as a second conscience in temptation; loves with +a strength of attachment which cannot be broken; and, though sorrowing +over error, can still hope and pray for and seek to restore the erring. +Mr. Ashton, I do not wish to say more upon this matter; it is painful +for me to think how my nephew has been led downward, step after step, by +those whom he thought friends, and how sinfully he has yielded. When +you think of him, recollect him as the boy you knew at school, and try +to trace his course down to this day. You know his history, his +companionships, his whole life. Think whether _you_ have influenced it, +and how; and if your conscience should say, 'I have not been his +friend,' may you be led by the remembrance to consider that no man +liveth to himself: and that for those talents and attractions with which +you are endowed, you will have hereafter to give account, together with +the good or evil which has resulted from them." + +To Ashton's relief the door opened, and Mr. Compton entered. Hastily +taking up his hat, he bade adieu to Mr. Brunton, glad of this +opportunity to beat a retreat. + +"Confound those Methodists!" he uttered to himself, as he walked up +Fleet-street; "speak to them, they talk sermons; strike them, and they +defend themselves with sermons; cut them to the quick, and I believe +they would bleed sermons. But why should he pounce upon me? What have I +done? A pretty life George would have led if it hadn't been for me, and +this is all the thanks I get. I wish to goodness he had not made such a +fool of himself; I shall have to answer all inquiries about him, and it +is no honour to be linked in such associations." + +The meeting between Mr. Compton and Mr. Brunton was one of mingled +feelings of pain and mortification. One had lost a valuable clerk, for +whom he cherished more than ordinary feelings of regard, and upon whom +he had hoped some day the whole management of the business would +devolve; the other had lost almost all that was dear to him on earth, +one whom he had watched, and loved, and worked for, and to whose bright +future he had looked forward with increasing pleasure, until it had +become a dream of life. Both were aggrieved, both were injured; but both +felt, in their degree, such strong feelings in favour of George, despite +his disgrace and crime, that they could look with more sorrow than anger +on the offender, and deal more in kindness than in wrath. + +Mr. Compton could not but agree with Mr. Brunton that he must be +discovered, if possible; and although he could never receive him under +any circumstances into his office again, nor could ever have for him the +feelings he once entertained, still he felt free to adhere to his first +determination not to prosecute or take any steps in the case, nor allow +it to have more publicity than could be helped. + +"He is still young," said he; "let him try to redeem the past. But it +is right he should feel the consequences of his actions, and no doubt he +will, as he has to encounter the difficulties which will meet him in +seeking to retrieve the position he has lost. You know me too well, +Brunton, to imagine that I do not estimate aright the extent of his +guilt; and you will give me credit for possessing a desire to do as I +would be done by in this case. I believe many a young man has been +ruined through time and eternity, by having been dealt with too +harshly--though in a legal sense quite justly; at the same time it has +been the only course to check a growing habit of crime in others. I know +well that in some instances it would be a duty to prosecute, if only as +a protection from suspicion of upright persons. But there are +exceptional cases, and I consider this to be one of them, although +perhaps many of our leading citizens might think me culpable in my +clemency; but I think I know your nephew sufficiently well to be +warranted in the belief that he feels his criminality, and will take a +lasting warning from this circumstance. And now, what do you intend to +do, since you know my determination?" + +Mr. Brunton explained the plans he had formed, and the valuable +assistance which Hardy had rendered him. He was pleased to hear from his +injured friend the heartily expressed wish that the end in view might be +accomplished. Mr. Brunton had surmounted one great difficulty, and he +could not feel sufficiently thankful at the issue. Although he had known +Mr. Compton for many years, and had seen innumerable evidences of his +benevolence and good nature, he knew, too, that he was the very +personification of honesty and uprightness; and he dreaded lest, +incensed against George for his ingratitude, and fearing the influence +of his conduct might spread in the office, he would take measures +against him which, although perfectly just, would, by their severity, +prove deeply injurious in such a case, and reduce George, who was +naturally sensitive of shame, to a position from which he might never be +restored. + +At the very earliest opportunity Mr. Brunton went down to Plymouth. +Business of the greatest importance, which he could not set aside, had +detained him in London until Friday, and his uneasiness had been +increased during that time by two notes he had received--one from Mrs. +Weston, and the other from Hardy--telling him of the unsuccessful issue +of their search. With an anxious heart he alighted at the station at +Plymouth, and walked to the hotel, where his sister and Hardy were +staying. The look of despair he read in Mrs. Weston's countenance, as +they met, told him that no favourable result had been obtained. + +"We have been everywhere, and tried every possible plan to find poor +George," she said, when Mr. Brunton sat down beside her and Hardy to +hear the recital of their efforts. "I should have broken down long ago, +had it not been for our dear friend here, who has been night and day at +work, plotting schemes and working them out, and buoying me up with +hopes in their result. But I feel sure George cannot be in Plymouth, and +our search is vain." + +"So Mrs. Weston has said all along," said Hardy; "but I cannot agree +with her; at all events, I will not believe it until we find out where +he has gone. He has not taken a passage in any of the vessels, as far as +we can ascertain; he is not in any of the inns in the town, I think, for +we have made the most searching inquiries at all of them; but in this +large place it is difficult to find any one without some positive clue." + +"Have you been able to find out whether he really arrived here?" asked +Mr. Brunton. + +"I think I have. One of the porters rather singularly recollected a +person, answering to the description, arriving by the train in which +George left London. It seems he was hastening away from the station +without giving up his ticket No doubt he was nervous and absent in mind; +and when the porter called to him, he started and seemed as if he were +alarmed: but in a minute he produced his ticket and went out The porter +looked suspiciously, I suppose, at the ticket, and evidently so at +George, for he was able to give a full description of him." + +"That is so far satisfactory," said Mr. Brunton; "but have you made any +more discoveries to render you tolerably sure he is still in Plymouth." + +"Yes, I have been to every shop where they fit out passengers for a sea +voyage, and have found out one where he purchased some articles of +clothing. But the clearest trace I have of him is from the shipping +agents. He was certainly looking over vessels on the morning after his +arrival here, for one or two captains have described him to me. I have +been a great many times down among the shipping, but have not made more +discoveries, and I cannot get any information from the shipping offices; +but in this you will probably meet with more success, sir, than I have, +for a young man is not of sufficient importance to command attention +from business men." + +Mr. Brunton was fully conscious of the difficulties which were in the +way of finding George, even supposing he was still in Plymouth: but he +was not without hope. He could not find words enough to express his +strong approbation of all that Hardy had done, and he felt sure that he +could have no better assistant in the undertaking than he. A series of +plans were soon formed: Hardy was to keep watch upon those vessels which +he thought it probable George might choose, and offer rewards to sailors +and others for information. Mr. Brunton was to try and discover the +names and descriptions of passengers booked at the shipping offices; and +Mrs. Weston was to keep a general lookout on outfitters' warehouses, and +other places where it might be probable George would visit. + +But every plan failed. Saturday night came, and, worn out with fatigue, +the anxious trio sat together to discuss the incidents of the day, and +propose fresh arrangements for the morrow. Sunday was not a day of rest +to them; from early morning they were all engaged in different +directions in prosecuting their search, and not until the curtain of +night was spread over the town, and the hum of traffic and din of bustle +had ceased, did they return to the hotel. + +After supper, Mr. Brunton took out his pocket Bible, and read aloud some +favourite passages. They seemed to speak with a voice of hope and +comfort, and inspired fresh faith in the unerring providence of Him who +doeth all things well. + +Very earnest were the prayers offered by that little party, as they +knelt together and commended the wanderer, wherever he might be, to the +care and guidance of the good providence of God. They felt how useless +were all plans and purposes unless directed by a higher source than +their own; and while they prayed for success upon the efforts put forth, +if in accordance with His will, they asked for strength and resignation +to bear disappointment Nor were their prayers merely that he whom they +were seeking might be found, but that he might find pardon and +acceptance with God, and that the evil which they lamented might, in the +infinitely wise purposes of Providence, be controlled for good. + +With fresh zeal and renewed hope the three set forth on the following +morning to prosecute their several plans. Hardy had learned that one or +two vessels would sail that day, and he was full of expectation that he +might meet with some tidings. + +Mr. Brunton felt rather unwell that morning--the press of business which +had detained him in London, the excitement of the journey, and the +fatigue of the previous days, had told upon his health. As he was +passing through a quiet part of the town, he called in at an +apothecary's to get a draught, which he hoped might ward off any serious +attack of sickness. While the draught was being prepared, Mr. Brunton, +who was intent upon his object and never left a stone unturned, +interrogated the apothecary, a gentlemanly and agreeable man, upon the +neighbourhood, the number of visitors in that locality, and other +subjects, ending by saying he was trying to discover the residence of a +relative, but without any knowledge of his address. + +In the midst of the conversation, a servant-girl, without bonnet or +shawl, came hurriedly into the shop, out of breath with running. + +"Oh, sir, if you please, sir, missus says, will you come at once to see +the young gentleman as stays at our house?--he's taken bad." + +"Who is your mistress, my girl?" asked the chemist. + +"Oh, sir, it's Mrs. Murdoch, of ---- Street; and the young gentleman is +a lodger from London, and he's going away to-morrow to the Indies or +somewheres; but do come, sir, please--missus'll be frightened to death, +all by herself, and him so dreadful bad." + +Mr. Brunton had been an anxious listener. Was it possible that the young +gentleman from London could be George? + +"How long has your lodger been with you?" he asked the girl. + +"A week come Wednesday--leastways, come Tuesday night,"--was the +accurate answer. + +Mr. Brunton, with eyes flashing with excitement, turned to the medical +man. "Will you allow me to accompany you on this visit?" he asked; "I +have reason to believe that your patient may be the relative for whom I +am searching." + +"Then come, by all means," answered the doctor; and, preceded by the +girl, who was all impatience to get home, and kept up a pace which made +Mr. Brunton puff lustily, they reached the house of Mrs. Murdoch. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE SICK CHAMBER. + + +The sun had gone down, and the twilight was fast losing itself in night. +The pale moon was struggling to look out upon the world through the +dark, heavy clouds which had collected around, as if expressly to +prevent this purpose. The hum of traffic in the street had ceased, and +the only sounds that came in at the open window were strains of music, +and the confused clamour of voices from a neighbouring tavern. The room +was a picture of neatness. The bed was draped in snowy furniture, and +the coverlid bore evidence of good taste and the ingenuity of +industrious hands. The mantlepiece was adorned with a few photographs +and a vase of fresh-gathered flowers. + +Upon a table in the corner of the room stood a lamp, with a green shade +over it to screen the light from the bed. Beside it were bottles, +phials, and other appliances of a sick chamber. + +A group stood round the bed, watching, with thrilling anxiety, the face +of the doctor as he held the inanimate hand of George Weston. + +You might have heard the ticking of his watch as he stood there and +gazed in the face of the patient, while Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton and +Charles Hardy waited motionless, almost breathless, to hear his verdict. + +"It is a more serious case than I imagined at first," said the doctor; +"I do not wish unnecessarily to alarm you, but it is my duty to say that +the condition of the patient is one of great danger, but I trust not +past recovery." + +"What is the nature of the illness--tell me candidly?" asked Mr. +Brunton, when he could command speech. + +"Brain fever," was the laconic answer. + +For a long time George Weston lay in that awful state which is neither +death nor life--when the spirit seems to be hovering round the body, +uncertain whether to wing its flight for ever from the tenement of +earth, or return to sojourn still longer in its old familiar +dwelling-house. Sometimes he would rave in the frenzy of madness, and +then sink in exhaustion with scarcely the power to draw a breath. + +Never was a sick-bed tended with greater care than his. Night after +night Mrs. Weston sat beside him, bathing the fevered head and cooling +the parched lips. Nor would she leave that post for a moment, until Mr. +Brunton was obliged to insist upon her taking rest. + +"Reserve your strength," he said; "we know not what is before us; it may +be--but we have nothing to do with the future," he added, interrupting +himself; "that must be left in His hands." + +Hardy was not able to remain in Plymouth longer than Wednesday. Mr. +Compton had written to him to say that, being short of hands, he was +very much pressed in business, and now that the main object of his +journey had been attained--for Mr. Brunton communicated with him almost +immediately--he should be glad if he would return as soon as possible. + +As he stood beside the bed of George Weston on the morning of his +departure, and gazed into those pale and haggard features, which had +always beamed with a friendly smile for him, but which he might never +see again, he could not restrain the impulse of clasping his hand, and +uttering solemnly the prayerful wish, "God preserve and bless you, +George!" + +The words were not heard by George--his ears were closed in dull +insensibility--but they were caught by Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston, who +that moment entered the room, and Hardy was startled to hear the earnest +response to his prayer in their united "Amen!" + +"And that prayer shall ever be offered for you, Charles," said Mrs. +Weston; "I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid. I +shudder to think of what would have happened, had it not been for your +kind, noble, manly friendship. Poor George would have suffered in this +lonely place, away from all who loved him, and without proper care, +perhaps have died--died afoot." + +"You do not know how thankful I feel, Mrs. Weston, that our efforts have +not been in vain. Pray write to me every day, to say how he is going +on--if it is only just one line; and should there be any change for +the--for the better, do let me know at once, that I may come down again, +if only for a day, just to congratulate him." + +"And if there is another change--a change for the worse?" asked Mrs. +Weston, tearfully. + +"Write, telegraph--pray let me know somehow," answered Hardy. "I could +not bear to part with him without telling and showing him there was one +of his old friends who loved him to the last. Good-bye, dear Mrs. +Weston; do not over-tax your strength, and keep up a good heart; depend +upon it, there are yet happy days for you and for George." + +Mrs. Weston sadly missed her young friend after his departure. His +hopeful spirits had helped to buoy up her expectations and assuage the +sorrows of the present. It seemed as if the sun had hidden itself and +the stars had refused their light during those long days when the mother +sat watching at the bedside of her son. Mr. Brunton tried in every way +to relieve her, but his own heart was heavy, and the two felt more at +home in talking dolefully over the bad symptoms of the patient than in +looking forward to the future. + +But a day came when the strength of the fever abated, and reason +returned to her long vacant throne. + +It was toward evening: Mrs. Weston was sitting beside the bed, busily +stitching away at her work, and Mr. Brunton was resting his head upon +his hands as he turned over the pages of a book which he was trying to +deceive himself into the belief he was reading, when a deep sigh caused +them both to suspend their occupation. + +George raised himself up in bed, and gazed round the room. The +furniture screened the two watchers, and he fancied himself alone. He +raised a pillow at his back, and reclining upon it in the placid calm of +exhaustion, with his face turned toward the open window, watched the +clouds as they crossed the blue expanse, and indulged in a half +conscious reverie. Where had he been? Where was he? Had he passed the +dark valley of the shadow of death, and were there angel forms in those +snow-white clouds beckoning him away? What was that confused sound which +rang in his ears? Was it the murmuring of the dark stream as it washed +upon the untrodden shore? + +No: there was the little room where he had taken his lodgings; there was +the green paper on the wall with the large grape clusters; there was the +sound of human voices in the street And the consciousness that he was +alive, restored, flashed upon him with something of the bewildering +astonishment and joy which Lazarus must have felt when he heard the +words, "Come forth." + +Too weak to rise, he was not too weak to pray. Clasping his hands +together, and gazing up into the clear blue sky, from whence all clouds +were now dispersing, he poured out his overflowing heart in +thanksgiving. + +He spoke with God. The tremulous voice gained strength, the power of +faith and hope grew intensified, and he prayed with that love and +fervour which the grateful child of a heavenly Parent can only feel. + +Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton were paralyzed with astonishment; +instinctively they shrank from disturbing that solemn time by coming +forward to speak with George and letting him recognise them; but with a +united impulse, both quietly and solemnly knelt down and joined in the +song of thanksgiving. + +Theirs was joy unspeakable; tears poured down both faces, and hushed +sobs of rejoicing burst from their hearts. All their prayers and earnest +longings had been answered; all their sorrow was turned into joy; and +that Friend of friends, whose delights are with the children of men, had +ordered, according to the tender mercy of His loving heart, all the evil +into overwhelming good. + +Presently the voice ceased; and, exhausted with the effort, George lay +down in calm and blissful tranquillity to sleep. + +As Mrs. Weston rose from her knees, her dress touched a book on the +table, which fell to the ground. George was roused by the sound, and, +trying to draw aside the curtain, said,-- + +"Is that you, Mrs. Murdoch?" + +Mrs. Weston, although dreading the consequences of excitement, could +restrain no longer the yearning of her motherly heart to embrace her +son. + +"No, George, my dearest boy, it is your mother." + +"Mother! mother!" cried George, with the old former-day voice of love +and joy, passionately kissing the face of beaming happiness bent over +him, "Thank God you are here!" + +From that day George began rapidly to improve. The excitement produced +by the discovery that he had been sought and found, instead of doing him +injury, relieved his already-oppressed mind from a weight of care. Every +day brought fresh strength, and as he sat up in bed, carefully propped +up by pillows, with his uncle on one hand and his mother on the other, +he told them all the sorrowful and joyful details of his strange +experiences until the eventful morning when his strength gave way. + +"This is beginning life afresh, in every sense," he said; "here am I, a +poor mortal, almost helpless, just strong enough to know how weak I am; +and before me--if my life is spared--lies an untrodden path. But I begin +my restored life, through God's infinite mercy, with a new inner life; +and He who has given me that, will, I know, freely give me all things +that shall be for my good." + +Mrs. Weston never knew the fulness of joy before those days. Her only +son, in whom all her brightest earthly hopes were centred, had ever been +a source of deep anxiety to her. Her never-ceasing prayer had been that +he might be what he now was--a child of her Father; and in the +realization of her heart's desire she found such joy unspeakable, that +all the cares and troubles of long, weary years seemed as though they +had not been. + +George was soon sufficiently restored to be able to leave his bed and +sit up for a few hours on the sofa. The day for this trial of strength +having been definitely fixed by the doctor, Mrs. Weston wrote at once to +Hardy, inviting him, if he could manage to get away, to come down and +celebrate the event. + +The meeting between the two friends was as joyful as their parting had +been sorrowful. + +"George, my dear old boy," said Hardy, as he shook him by the hand, "it +does my eyesight good to see you again." + +"And it does my heart good to see you, old fellow," replied George, as +he returned the pressure. "You don't know how I have longed for your +coming, that I might tell you how deeply grateful I am to you for all +your brotherly love--" + +"Good-bye, George," said Hardy, taking up his hat and buttoning his +coat; "I won't stay another minute unless you give over talking such +stuff What I've done! Why, if my pup, Gip, were to run away, I should do +for him what I have done for you--no more, no less. So let us drop the +subject, that's a good fellow, and then I'll sit down and chat with +you." + +Never was there a pleasanter chat by any little party than by that which +assembled in Mrs. Murdoch's best parlour that evening. All hearts were +full of thankfulness, and though there were some painful subjects +discussed, yet the joyful ones far more than counterbalanced them. + +Mr. Brunton found out, in the course of the evening, that he had +something very important to do, and probably Mrs. Weston discovered her +assistance was needed as well, for the friends found themselves, after a +while, alone, which was what they both wanted. + +"You have heard, Hardy, of all the strange things that have happened to +me?" George began, hesitatingly. "I should like to be able to tell you +all about them; but, somehow, I don't know how to put such matters into +words." + +"You mean, George, that one great, solemn, joyful event which has made +your life now something worth living for," said Hardy, relieving him of +a difficulty. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know it. The past two +years have been funny ones to both of us. Religion has been ground on +which we have not been able to tread together, as you know: but, thank +goodness, that has all gone by. Now, I must tell you my mind, George," +he continued, in that frank, manly way which was so natural to him; "I +never gave you credit for sincerity when you took up with those strange +notions which were so dangerous to you. I believed then that they were +convenient principles, which might be stretched and made to agree with +the dictates of your inclination. I do not say you did not believe what +you professed, but I always thought that you forced yourself into that +belief by self-deception. Now, wait, don't interrupt me. I know what you +are going to say; but whatever harm you did to others--God only knows +that--I do not think your change in sentiment did any harm to me! For +this reason--I saw you were not straightforward with your own heart, and +I felt sure you slighted that pure and holy religion in which we had +been instructed from childhood, not because in your heart of hearts you +disbelieved it, but because it condemned that course of conduct which +you were pursuing. Now, was it not so?" + +"Yes, Hardy, you are right. I can trace out now the processes of thought +through which I passed, to lead me to think and act as I did; and I +never knew before what a wretchedly poor thing a morally endowed, +intelligent human being is in his own strength. I did not know how weak +I was. I did feel sometimes oppressed with the idea that I was willingly +blindfolding myself--but, somehow, an argument was always at hand to +weigh down this feeling. But tell me why you think my endeavours to make +you believe as I did never did you injury? God grant they may not to +others." + +"Why, when I observed you, as I tell you I did, it was impossible for me +not to be on my guard. Nay, more, this question tormented me daily, 'You +believe George disregards religion, because it condemns him; if you +regard that religion, but do not practise it, does it not condemn you?' +Now this was a home-thrust, George, which I could not parry off. I tried +to determine not to be such a cowardly, mean-spirited creature as to try +and cheat God by pretending to believe Him, and yet fight under false +colours against Him; and so I gave up many of my old habits, and tried +to start afresh. And now, George, you don't know how thankful I am that +you are different to what you were. We have studied many things +together, joined in many plans and purposes; and now I hope we shall be +able to study the highest and best thing in earth or heaven--what God's +will is, and how to do it." + + * * * * * + +That desire became the watchword of their lives. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LIFE IN LONDON *** + +This file should be named 7lfln10.txt or 7lfln10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7lfln11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7lfln10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Life in London + +Author: Edwin Hodder + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9940] +[This file was first posted on November 2, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LIFE IN LONDON *** + + + + +E-text prepared by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + +LIFE IN LONDON + +OR, THE PITFALLS OF A GREAT CITY + +BY EDWIN HODDER, ESQ. + +1890. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + I. THE INTRODUCTION + + II. SCHOOL-BOY DAYS + + III. STARTING WELL + + IV. MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW + + V. A FARCE + + VI. THE LECTURE + + VII. GETTING ON IN THE WORLD + +VIII. A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP + + IX. IN EXILE + + X. MAKING DISCOVERIES + + XI. THE SICK CHAMBER + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE INTRODUCTION. + + +Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street in +Islington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience, +until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon the +panels. + +"Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as he +hurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron on +and sleeves tucked up, was busy in her domestic affairs. "Such splendid +news!" repeated George. "I have been down to Mr. Compton's with the +letter Uncle Henry gave me, in which he said I wanted a situation, and +should be glad if Mr. Compton could help me; and, sure enough, I was +able to see him, and he is such a kind, fatherly old gentlemen, mother. +I am sure I shall like him." + +"Well, George, and what did he say!" + +"Oh! I've got ever so much to tell you, before I come to that part. The +office, you know, is in Falcon Court, Fleet Street; such a dismal place, +with the houses all crammed together, and a little space in front, not +more than large enough to turn a baker's bread-truck in. All the windows +are of ground glass, as if the people inside were too busy to see out, +or to be seen; and on every door there are lots of names of people who +have their offices there, and some of them are actually right up at the +top storeys of the houses. Well, I found out the name of Mr. Compton, +and I tapped at a door where 'Clerk's Office' was written. I think I +ought not to have tapped, but to have gone in, for somebody said rather +sharply, 'Come in,' and in I went. An old gentleman was standing beside +a sort of counter, with a lot of heavy books on it, and he asked me what +I wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Compton, and had got a letter for +him. He told me to sit down until Mr. Compton was disengaged, and then +he would see me." + +"And what sort of an office was it, George? And who was the old +gentleman? The manager, I suppose!" + +"I think he was, because he seemed to do as he liked, and all the clerks +talked in a whisper while he was there. I had to wait more than +half-an-hour, and I was able to look round and see all that was going +on. It is a large office, and there were ten clerks seated on +uncomfortable high stools, without backs, poring over books and papers. +I don't think I shall like those clerks, they stared at me so rudely, +and I felt so ashamed, because one looked hard at me, and then whispered +to another: and I believe they were saying something about my boots, +which you know, mother, are terribly down at heel, and so I put one foot +over the other, to try and hide them." + +"There was no need of that, George. It did not alter the fact that they +were down at heel; and there is no disgrace in being clothed only as +respectable as we can afford, is there?" + +"Not a bit, mother: and I feel so vexed with myself because I knew I +turned red, which made the two clerks smile. But I must go on telling +you what else I saw. The old gentleman seems quite a character--he is +nearly bald, has got no whiskers, wears a big white neckcloth and a tail +coat, and takes snuff every five minutes out of a silver box. Whether he +knows it or not, the clerks are very rude to him: for when he took +snuff, one of them sneezed, or pretended to sneeze, every time, and +another snuffled, as if he were taking snuff too." + +"That certainly does not speak well for the clerks," said Mrs. Weston. +"Old gentlemen do have peculiar ways sometimes, but it is not right for +young people to ridicule them." + +"No, it is not; and I don't like to see people do a thing behind another +one's back they are afraid to do before his face. When the clerks had to +speak to the old gentleman, they were as civil as possible, and said, +'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' to him so meekly, as if they were quite +afraid of him; but after a little while, when he took up his hat and +went out, they all began talking and laughing out loud, although when he +was there, they had only occasionally spoken in low whispers. There was +only one young man, out of the whole lot, who did not join with them, +but kept at his work; and I thought if I got a situation in that office, +I should try and make friends with him." + +"That's right, George. I would rather you should not have a situation at +all, than get mixed up with bad companions. But go on, I am so anxious +to hear what Mr. Compton said." + +"Well, after half-an-hour, I heard a door in the next room close, and a +table-bell touched, and then the old gentleman, who had by this time +returned, went in Presently he came out again, and said Mr. Compton +would see me. Oh, mother! I felt so funny, you don't know. My mouth got +quite dry, my face flushed, and I couldn't think whatever I should say, +I felt just as I did that day at the school examination, when I had to +make one of the prize speeches. But I got all to rights directly I saw +Mr. Compton. He said, 'Good morning to you--be seated,' in such a nice +way, that I felt at home with him at once." + +"And what did you say to him, George?" + +"I had learnt by heart what I was going to say, but in the hurry I had +forgotten every word. So I said, 'My name is--' (it's a wonder I did not +say Norval, for I felt a bit bewildered at the sound of my own voice) +'--my name is George Weston, sir, and I have brought you a letter from +my uncle, Mr. Henry Brunton, who knows you, I think.' 'Oh! yes," he +said, 'he knows me very well; and, if I mistake not, this letter is +about you, for he was talking to me about a nephew the other day.' Isn't +that just like Uncle Henry?--he never said anything about that to us, +but he is so good and kind, we are always finding out some of his +generous actions, about which he never speaks. While Mr. Compton was +reading the letter, I had leisure to look at him, and at his room. He is +such a fine-looking old man, just like that picture we saw in the +Academy, last year, of the village squire. He looks as if he were very +benevolent and kind-hearted, and he dresses just like some of the +country gentlemen, with a dark green coat and velvet collar, a frill +shirt, and a little bit of buf. waistcoat seen under his coat, which he +keeps buttoned. He had got lots of books, and papers, and files about, +and sat hi an arm-chair so cosily--in fact, I should not have thought +that nice carpeted room was really an office, if it had not been for the +ground-glass windows. Just as I was thinking why it was the glorious +sunshine is not admitted into offices, Mr. Compton said--" + +"What did he say, George? I have waited so patiently to hear." + +"He said, 'Well, _Mr_. Weston,'--(he did really call me Mr. Weston, +mother; I suppose he took me for a young man: it is evident he did not +know I was wearing a stick-up shirt collar for the first time in my +life)--'I have read this letter, and am inclined to think I may be able +to do something for you.' That put my 'spirits up,' as poor father used +to say; and I said, 'I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.' So then he told me +that he wanted a junior clerk in his office, who could write quickly, be +brisk at accounts, and make himself generally useful, as the +advertisements in the _Times_ say. I told him I could do all these +things; and he passed me a sheet of paper, to give him a specimen of my +handwriting. I hardly knew what to write, but I fixed upon a passage of +Scripture, 'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the +Lord.' My hand was so shaky, that all the letters with tails to them had +the queerest flourishes you ever saw. Mr. Compton smiled when I handed +him the sheet of paper--I don't know whether it was at the writing, or +at the quotation, and I wished I had written a passage from Seneca +instead!" + +"You did not feel ashamed at having written a part of God's word, did +you, George?" + +"No, not ashamed, mother; but I thought it was not business-like, and +seemed too much like a schoolboy." + +"I think it was very business-like. It would convey the idea that you +would seek to do your business from the best and highest motives. But +what did Mr. Compton say?" + +"He only said he thought the handwriting was good. Then he told me that +he would take me as his clerk, and should expect me to be at my post +next Monday morning, at nine o'clock. 'And now,' he said, 'we must fix +upon a salary; and as your uncle has told me that you are anxious to +maintain yourself, I will give you a weekly sum sufficient for that +purpose; and if you give me satisfaction, I will raise it yearly.' And +what do you think he offered me, mother?" + +"I really do not know; perhaps, as you are young, and have never been in +a situation before, he said five shillings a week, although I did not +think you would get any salary at all for the first six months." + +"No, mother, more than five shillings; guess again," said George, his +face shining with excited delight. + +"Then I will guess seven and sixpence a week," said his mother, +doubtfully, for she thought she had gone too high. + +"More than that, mother; guess only once more, for I cannot keep it in +if you are not very quick." + +"Then I shall say ten shillings a week, George; but I am afraid I have +guessed too much." + +"No, mother, under the mark again. I am to have ten shillings and +sixpence--half a guinea a week! Isn't that splendid? Only fancy, Mr. +George Weston, Junior Clerk to Mr. Compton, at half-a-guinea a week! My +fortune is made; and, depend upon it, mother, we shall get on in the +world now, first-rate. Why, I shall only want--say, half-a-crown a week +for myself, and then there will be all the rest for you. Now don't you +think blind-eyed Fortune must have dropped her bandage this morning, and +have spied me out?" + +"No, George; but I think that kind Providence; which has always smiled +upon us when we have been in the greatest difficulties, has once more +shown us that all our ways are in the hands of One who doeth all things +well." + +"So do I, mother; and I do hope that this success, which has attended my +journey this morning, may turn out to our real good. I feel it will--we +shall be able to go on now so swimmingly, and I shall be getting a +footing in the world, so that by-and-bye we shan't have a single debt, +or a single care, and you will be growing younger as fast as I grow +older: and then, after a time, we will get a little house in the +country, and finish up our days the happiest couple in the British +dominions." + +For the remainder of that day, poor George was in a regular whirl of +excitement. A thousand schemes were afloat in his mind about the future, +of the most improbable kind. His income of half-a-guinea a week was to +do wonders, which were never accomplished by half a score of guineas. +He speculated about the rise in his salary at the end of the year, which +he was determined, if it rested upon his own industry, should not be +less than a pound a week; and then he forgot the first year, and +commenced calculating what he could do, with his increased salary, till, +at last, worn out with scheming, he said,-- + +"Money is a great bother, after all, mother. I've been calculating all +this day how we can spend my salary; and I am really more perplexed than +if Mr. Compton had said I should not have anything for the first six +months. I can't make ends meet if I attempt to do what I have planned, +that's very certain; so I shall quietly wait till the first Saturday +night comes, and I feel the half-guinea in my hand, and then I shall +better realize what it is worth." + +That was a pleasant evening Mrs. Weston and George spent together in +discussing the events of the day, and when it became time to separate +for the night, she said-- + +"This is one of the happiest days we have spent for a long time, George. +How your poor father would have enjoyed sharing it with us!" and the +widow sighed. + +"Mother," said George, "I have thought of poor father so many times +to-day, and I have formed a resolution which I mean to try and keep. He +was a good man. I don't think he ever did anything really wrong--and I +recollect so well what he used to tell me, when I was a boy"--(George +had jumped into manhood in a day, he fancied)--"I mean to take him for a +model; and if I find myself placed in dangers and difficulties, I shall +always ask myself, 'What would father have done if he had been in this +case?' and then I should try and do as he would." + +"May you have strength given to you, my deal boy, to carry out every +good resolution! But remember, there is a model which must be taken even +before that of your father. I mean the pure, sinless example of our +Lord; follow this, and adhere to the plain directions of God's word, and +you cannot go wrong. And now, good night; God bless you, my son!" + +It was a long time before George went to sleep; again and again the +events of the day came to his memory, and he travelled in thought far +into the future, peering through the mist which hung over unborn time, +and weighing circumstances which might never have a being. + +"I shall be quite accustomed to my duties by next Monday," he said to +his mother in the morning; "for I was all night long busy in the office, +counting money, posting books, and when I awoke I was just signing a +deed of partnership in the name of Compton and Weston." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +SCHOOL-BOY DAYS. + + +George Weston was an only son, and, at the time our story commences, was +nearly seventeen years of age. His early years had been spent at home, +under the watchful care of kind and good parents. When he was ten years +old he was sent to a boarding school at Folkestone, and placed in the +charge of Dr. Seaward, a good man, who superintended his education, and, +besides imparting secular instruction, endeavoured to train his +character and make him good as well as clever. George was a sharp, +shrewd boy, a keen observer, who would know the why and the wherefore of +everything, and his lessons always came to him more as an amusement than +a task. He had a horror of being low down in his class, and if he did +not retain his place at the top, it was rarely through inattention or +want of study on his part. + +George was a great favourite with the whole school; he was a merry, +joyous fellow, who always had sunshine in his face and a kind word on +his lips; a ringleader in any harmless fun, and a champion on the side +of all the younger boys who met with oppression or injustice from the +elder classes. At cricket or football, swimming or boating, George had +few superiors; and as he was one of those boys who seem determined, +whatever they do, to do it with all their might, he went heart and soul +into all the spoils with such a zest and earnestness that he acquired +the name of the "Indefatigable." Nor did this name merely apply to his +zeal in sports. There was not in the whole school a more diligent +student than George: there was for him "a time to work and a time to +play," and he never allowed one to trespass upon the other. He would +rather go without a game at cricket for a fortnight than be behindhand +in one of his lessons. The boys would laugh at him for this, but George +could bear to be laughed at on such points, because he knew he was in +the right. "I came to school to learn," he would say, "and I don't see +any fun in making my parents pay heavy fees for me every year to play +cricket at the expense of study." Every boy knew there was wisdom in +this, and they secretly admired George for it, although it condemned +their own conduct, more especially when they had to go to him not +unfrequently, and say, "Weston, I shall get in a scrape with these +lessons to-morrow, unless you can help me a bit with them. Do give me a +leg up, that's a good fellow!" and though George never said "No," he did +sometimes take an opportunity to say, "If you did not waste so much time +in play, you might be independent of any help that I can give." + +It was a source of great pleasure to his parents to hear from time to +time, through Dr. Seaward, some good account of his conduct; and when he +returned home at the holiday seasons, generally laden with prizes which +he had victoriously borne off, they did not feel a little proud of their +only son. + +George remained at the school at Folkestone for five years, during which +time he rose from the lowest to the highest form. It was the intention +of his parents then to place him in a college for a year or two, in +order to give him in opportunity to complete his education, and have the +means to make a good start in life. But this purpose was frustrated by +an event which happened only a month before George was to have been +removed. + +One day, when all the boys were out in the playfield, busily engaged in +marking out boundaries for a game at hockey, Dr. Seaward was seen coming +from the house towards the field. This was an unusual event, as he +rarely interfered with them during play hours. "Something's up," said +the boys; and waited expectantly until the Doctor came up to them. + +"Call George Weston," said he; "I want to speak to him." + +"Weston! George Weston!" shouted one or two at once; and George came +running up, nothing abashed, for he knew he had done nothing wrong. + +"George," said the Doctor, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to +come with me; I have something to tell you;" and they walked together +away from the field. + +"What is it, sir? You look pained: I hope I have done nothing to offend +you?" + +"No, George," replied the Doctor; "few lads have ever given me so little +cause of offence at any time as you have. But I _am_ pained. I have some +sad news to tell you." + +"Sad news for me, sir? Oh, do tell me at once. Is anything the matter at +home?" + +"Yes, George; a messenger has just arrived to say that your father has +met with a serious accident; he has been thrown from his chaise, and is +much hurt. The messenger is your uncle, Mr. Brunton; and he desires you +to return at once to London with him." + +George waited to hear no more; he bounded away from the Doctor, cleared +the fence which enclosed the garden at a leap, and rushed into the room +where Mr. Brunton was anxiously awaiting him. No tear stood in his eye; +but he was dreadfully pale, and his hands trembled like aspen leaves. +"Oh, uncle!" was all he could say; and, throwing himself into a chair, +he covered his face with his hands. + +"Come, George, my boy," said Mr. Brunton, tenderly; "do not give way to +distress. Your poor father is seriously hurt, but he is yet alive. We +have just half an hour to catch the train." + +That was enough for George; in a moment he was calm and collected, ran +up to his room to make a few hasty arrangements, and in five minutes was +again with his uncle prepared for the journey. + +"Good-bye, Dr. Seaward," he said as he left the house. + +"God bless you, my young friend," said the kind-hearted Doctor; "and +grant that you may find His providence better than your fears." + +George thought he had never known the train go so slowly as it did +during that long, wearisome journey to London. At last it arrived at +the terminus, and then, jumping into a cab, they were hurried away +towards Stamford Hill as quickly as the horse could travel. + +"Now, George," said Mr. Brunton, as they came near their journey's end, +"we know not what may have happened while we have been coming here. Be a +man, and recollect there is one who suffers more than you." + +"Do not fear, uncle. I will not add to my mother's grief," was all he +could reply. + +We will not pry into that interview between mother and son when they +first met; there is a grief too solemn for a stranger's eye. + +Mr. Weston was still alive, and that was all that could be said. The +doctors had pronounced his case beyond human skill, and had intimated +that there were but a few hours for him on earth. + +As George stood beside the bed of his dying father, the tears which had +been long pent up came pouring thick and fast down his cheek. + +"Don't give way to sorrow, George," said his father, in a low voice, for +he had difficulty in speaking; "it will be only a little while before we +meet again; for what is life but a vapour, which soon vanisheth away?" + +"Oh, father, it is so sudden, so sudden!" sobbed George. + +"Therefore, my boy, remember that at all times there is but a step +between us and death; and if for us to live is Christ, then to die is +gain. Make that your motto through life, my dear boy, 'For me to live is +Christ.'" + +That night the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken, and +the spirit of Mr. Weston returned to God who gave it. "Precious in the +eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints." + +Never did a mother more realize the joy of possessing the unbounded love +of an affectionate son, than did Mrs. Weston during those melancholy +days between the death and the funeral of her husband, "Cheer up, dear +mother," he would say; "God is the father of the fatherless, and the +husband of the widow, and did not _He_ say 'to die is gain'?" + +George and Mr. Brunton followed the remains of the good man to their +last resting-place; and then the body was lowered to the grave "in the +sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection." + +Mr. Weston had not been a rich man, nor had he been a far-seeing, +provident man. He had moved in comfortable circumstances, with an income +only sufficient to pay his way in the world, and had made but scanty +provision for the future. At the time of his sudden death, his affairs +were in anything but a satisfactory state; and it was found that it +would be impossible for his widow to live in the same comfortable style +she had formerly done. + +After all his accounts were wound up, it was seen that she would only +have a sufficient sum of money, even if invested in the best possible +manner, to keep her in humble circumstances. She determined therefore to +leave her house at Stamford Hill, and take a smaller one in Islington, +and let some of the rooms to boarders. + +Mr. Brunton acted the part of a kind brother in all her difficulties; he +was never wearied in advising her, and on him principally devolved all +the necessary arrangements for her removal. Everything he did was with +such delicacy and refinement that, although his hand was daily and +hourly felt, it was never seen. + +One evening, shortly before leaving the locality in which they had lived +so many years, George and his mother walked together to the cemetery +where Mr. Weston had been buried, to pay a farewell visit to that +hallowed spot. They had been too much reduced in circumstances to have a +stone placed over the grave where he lay, and they were talking about it +as they journeyed along, saying, how the very first money they could +afford should be expended for that purpose. What was their surprise to +find a handsome stone raised above the spot, bearing these words:-- + + _Sacred to the Memory of_ + MR. GEORGE WESTON, + Who departed this life, Feb. 18th, 18--, aged 46 years. + + * * * * * + + "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." + +Tears of grateful joy stood in their eyes as they recognized another +token of the kind, tender love of Mr. Brunton. + +The bereavement and change of fortune were borne by the widow with that +fortitude which is only shown by the true Christian. It was hard, very +hard, to begin the world again; to be denied the pleasure of allowing +George to go to college and complete his studies; and to bear the +struggles and inconveniences of poverty. But Mrs. Weston knew that vain +regrets would never alter the case; the Lord had given, the Lord had +taken away, and from her heart she could say cheerfully, "Blessed be +the name of the Lord." + +George had not been idle. Every hour in which he was not occupied for or +with his mother, he was diligently engaged in prosecuting his studies, +and preparing himself for the time when he should be able to procure a +situation. Mr. Brunton had not been anxious for him to enter upon one at +once; he knew how lonely the widow would be without her son, and +therefore he did not take any steps to obtain for George a situation. +But when a twelvemonth had passed, and the keenness of sorrow had worn +off, he mentioned the matter to his friend Mr. Compton; with what +success we have seen in the first chapter. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +STARTING WELL. + + +Never did days drag along more heavily than those which elapsed between +the interview with Mr. Compton, and the morning when George was to enter +upon his new duties. Every day the office was a subject of much +conversation; and neither George nor his mother ever seemed to weary in +talking over his plans and purposes. George wrote a long letter to Mr. +Brunton, telling him of the successful issue of his application to Mr. +Compton, and thanking him in the most hearty way for all his kindness. +The next day Mr. Brunton replied to George's letter as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR NEPHEW, + + "I am delighted to hear that you have obtained an appointment, and + that you seem so well satisfied with your prospects. May you find it + to be for your good in every way. Remember, you are going into new + scenes, and will be surrounded with many dangers and temptations to + which you have hitherto been a stranger. Seek to be strong against + everything that is evil; aim at the highest mark, and press towards + it. Much of your future depends upon how you begin--therefore begin + well; hold yourself aloof from everything with which your conscience + tells you you should not be associated, and then all your bright + dreams may, I hope, be fully realized. + + "I shall hope to be with you for an hour or two on Sunday evening. + + "You will have some unavoidable expenses to incur before entering + upon your duties, and will require a little pocket-money. Accept the + enclosed cheque, with the love of + + "Your affectionate Uncle, + + "HENRY BRUNTON." + +George's eyes sparkled with delight as he read the letter; and found the +enclosure to be a cheque for five pounds. This was a great treasure and +relief to him, for he had thought many times about his boots, which were +down at heel, and his best coat, which shone a good deal about the +elbows, and showed symptoms of decay in the neighbourhood of the +button-holes. + +A new suit of clothes and a pair of boots were therefore purchased at +once, and when Sunday morning came, and George dressed himself in them, +and stood ready to accompany his mother to the house of God, she thought +(although, of course, she did not say so) that she had never seen a more +handsome and gentlemanly-looking youth than her son. + +"Mother," said George, as they walked along, "what a treat the Sunday +will always be now, after being pent up in the office all the week. I +shall look forward to it with such pleasure, not only for the sake of +its rest, but because I shall have a whole day with you." + +"The Sabbath is, indeed, a boon," replied Mrs. Weston, "when it is made +a rest-day for the soul, as well as for the body. You remember those +lines I taught you, when you were quite another fellow, before you went +to school, do you not?-- + + "'A Sunday well spent brings a week of content + And health for the toils of the morrow; + But a Sabbath profaned, whatsoe'er may be gained, + Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'" + +"Yes, mother, I remember them; and capital lines they are. Dr. Seaward +once said, 'Strike the key-note of your tune incorrectly, and the whole +song will be inharmonious;' so, if the Sabbath is improperly spent, the +week will generally be like it." + +That morning the preacher took for his text the beautiful words in +Isaiah xli. 10, "Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed, for +I am thy God: I will strengthen thee--yea, I will help thee yea, I will +uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." These words came +like the sound of heavenly music into the soul of the widow; and she +prayed, with the fervency a mother alone can pray for a beloved and only +son, that the time might speedily come when he would be able to +appropriate these words, and realize, in the true sense of the term, God +as his Father. For George, although he had from early infancy been +brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and had learnt to +love holiness from so constantly seeing its beauty exemplified by his +parents, had not yet undergone that one great change which creates the +soul anew in Christ Jesus. + +Mr. Brunton arrived in the evening, just as Mrs. Weston and George were +starting out to the second service, and so they all went together to the +same place. The minister, an excellent man, who felt the responsibility +of his office, and took every opportunity of doing good, was in the +habit of giving four sermons a year especially to young men, and it so +happened that on this evening one of these discourses was to be +delivered. Nothing could have been more appropriate to a young man just +starting out in life than his address. The text was taken from those +solemn, striking words of the wise man, "My son, if sinners entice +thee, consent thou not." + +He spoke of the powerful influences continually at work to allure young +travellers along life's journey into the snares and pitfalls of sin, and +pointed to God's armoury, and the refuge from all the wiles of the +adversary. + +As the trio sat round the supper-table that evening, discussing the +events of the day, George said-- + +"I feel very glad that this Sunday has come before I go to Mr. +Compton's. I thought, when the text was given out this evening, that the +minister had prepared his sermon especially for me. I have no doubt all +he said was quite true; and so, being prepared, I shall be able to be on +my guard against the evils which he says are common to those who make +their first start in life." + +When Mr. Brunton rose to leave that night, he took George aside; and, +laying his hand on his shoulder, said-- + +"George, I am glad you have got your appointment, my boy; but I am +sorry, for some reasons, that it is in Mr. Compton's office, for I have +made inquiries about the clerks there, and I regret to find that they +are not the set of young men I should have liked you to be with. Now, I +want you to make me a promise. If ever you are placed in critical +circumstances, or dangers, or difficulties (I say _if_, because I do not +know why you should, but _if_ you are), be sure and come to me. Tell me, +as you always have done, honestly and openly, your difficulty, and you +will always find in me one willing to advise and assist you. Will you +promise?" + +"With all my heart I will, uncle; and thank you, too, for this, and all +your interests on my account." + +"Good-bye, then, George. Go on and prosper; and God bless you." + +Punctually at nine o'clock on Monday morning, George was at the office. +Mr. Sanders, the manager (the old gentleman whom George had seen on his +first visit), introduced him to the clerks by saying-- + +"This is Mr. George Weston, our new junior;" and George, with his face +all aglow, made a general bow in return to the salutations which were +given him. + +"This is to be your seat," said Mr. Sanders; "and that peg is for your +hat. And now, as you would, no doubt, like to begin at once, here is a +document I want copied." + +George was glad to have something to do; he felt all eyes were upon him, +and the whispered voices of the clerks rather grated upon his ears. He +took up his pen, and began to write; but he found his hand shaky, and he +was so confused that, after he had written half a page, and found he had +made two or three blunders, he was obliged to take a fresh sheet, and +begin again. + +"Take your time," said Mr. Sanders, who noticed his dilemma; "you will +get on right enough by-and-bye, when you are more accustomed to the +place and the work." + +George felt relieved by this; and making up his mind to try and forget +all around him, he set to work busily again, and in an hour or two had +finished the job. + +"I have done this, sir," he said, taking it to Mr. Sanders. "What shall +I do next?" + +"We will just examine it, and then you may take it into Mr. Compton's +room. After that you can go and get your dinner, and be back again in an +hour." + +The document was examined, and, to the surprise of George and Mr. +Sanders, not one mistake was found. "Come, this is beginning well," said +the manager; "we shall soon make a clerk of you, I see." + +When George went into Mr. Compton's room, and presented the papers, he +was again rewarded with an encouraging commendation. "This is very well +written--very well written indeed, and shows great painstaking," he +said. + +George felt he could have shaken hands with both principal and manager +for those few words. "How cheap a kind word is," he thought, "to those +who give it; but it is more precious than gold to the receiver. I like +these two men; and, if I can manage it, they shall like me too." + +George had not as yet exchanged a word with any of the clerks; but as he +was leaving the office to go to dinner, one of them was going out at the +same time, on the same errand. + +"Well, Mr. Weston, you find it precious dull, don't you, cooped up in +your den?" + +"Do you mean the office?" said George. + +"Yes; what else should I mean?" + +"It seems a comfortable office enough," said George, "and not +particularly dull; but I have not had sufficient experience in it to +judge." + +"You see, that old ogre (I beg his pardon, I mean old Sanders) takes +jolly good care there shall be no flinching from work while he's there, +and it makes a fellow deuced tired, pegging away all day long." + +"If this is a specimen of the clerks," thought George, "Uncle Brunton +was not far wrong when he said they were not a very good set." + +"From what I have seen of Mr. Sanders," he said, "I think him a very +nice man! and as for work, I always thought that was what clerks were +engaged to do, and therefore it is their duty to do it, whether under +the eye of the manager or not." + +George got this sentence out with some difficulty. He felt it was an +aggressive step, and did not doubt it would go the round of the office +as a tale against him. + +"Ugh!" said the clerk; "you've got a thing or two to learn yet, I see. +You must surely be fresh and green from the country; but such notions +soon die out. I don't like to be personal though, so we'll change the +subject. Where are you going to dine? Most of our chaps patronize the +King's Head--first-rate place; get anything you like in two twinklings +of a lamb's tail. I'm going there now; will you go? By the way, I should +have told you before this that my name is Williams." + +"I suppose, Mr. Williams,' the King's Head is a tavern? If so, I prefer +a coffee-house; but thank you, notwithstanding, for your offer." + +"By George! that's a rum start. Our chaps all hate coffee-shops, with +the exception of young Hardy, and he's coming round to our tastes now. +You can get a good feed at the King's Head--stunning tackle in the shape +of beer, and meet a decent set of fellows who know how to crack a joke +at table; whereas, if you go to a coffee-shop, you have an ugly slice of +meat set before you, a jorum of tea leaves and water, or some other +mess, and a disagreeable set of people around. Now, which is best?" + +"Your description is certainly unfavourable in the latter case; but I do +not suppose all coffeehouses are alike, and therefore I shall try one +to-day. Good morning." + +George soon found a nice-looking quiet place where he could dine, and +felt sure he had no need to go to taverns for better accommodation. + +When he returned to the office, at two o'clock, Mr. Sanders was absent, +and the clerks were busily engaged, not at work, but in conversation. +Mr. Williams was the principal speaker, and seemed to have something +very choice to communicate. George made no doubt that he was the subject +of conversation, for he had caught one or two words as he entered, which +warranted the supposition. He had nothing to do until Mr. Sanders +returned; this was an opportunity, therefore, for Mr. Williams to make +himself officious. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, "allow me to do the honours of the office by +introducing you, in a more definite manner than that old ----, I mean +than Mr. Sanders did this morning. This gentleman is Mr. Lawson, this is +Mr. Allwood, this is Mr. Malcolm, and this my young friend, Mr. Charles +Hardy, who is of a serious turn of mind, and is meditating entering the +ministry, or the undertaking line." + +A laugh at Hardy's expense was the result of this attempt at jocularity +on the part of Mr. Williams. George hardly knew how to acknowledge these +introductions; but, turning to Charles Hardy, he said,-- + +"As Mr. Williams has so candidly mentioned your qualities, Mr. Hardy, +perhaps you will favour me with a description of his." + +Hardy rose from his seat, for up to this time he had been engaged in +writing, and, in a tone of mock gravity, replied, + +"This is Mr. Williams, who lives at the antipodes of everything that is +quiet or serious, whose mission to the earth seems expressly to turn +everything he touches into a laugh. He is not a 'youth to fortune and +to fame unknown,' for in the archives of the King's Head his name is +emblazoned in imperishable characters." + +"Well said, Hardy!" said one or two at once. "Now, Williams, you are on +your mettle, old boy; stand true to your colours, and transmute the +sentence into a joke in self-defence." + +Williams was on the point of replying when Mr. Sanders entered. In an +instant all the clerks pretended to be up to their eyes in business; +each had his book or papers to hand as if by magic; whether upside down +or not was immaterial. + +But George Weston stood where he was; he could not condescend to so mean +an imposition, and he felt pleased to see that Charles Hardy, unlike the +others, made no attempt to hide the fact that he had been engaged in +conversation, instead of continuing at his work. + +At six o'clock the day's duties were over; and George felt not a little +pleased when the hour struck, and Mr. Sanders told him he could go. +Hardy was leaving just at the same time, and so they went out together. + +"Are you going anywhere in my direction?" said Hardy; "I live at +Canonbury." + +"Indeed!" replied George; "I'm glad to hear that, for I live at +Islington, close by you. If you are willing, we will bear one another +company, for I want to ask you one or two questions;" and taking Hardy's +arm, the two strolled homewards together. + +Now George would never have thought of walking arm in-arm with Mr. +Williams, or any of the other clerks; but, from the first time he saw +Hardy, and noticed his quiet, gentlemanly manners, he felt sure he +should like him. Hardy, too, had evidently taken a fancy to George; and +therefore both felt pleased that accident had brought them together. +Accident? No, that is a wrong word; whenever a heart feels that there is +another heart beating like its own, and those two hearts go out one +towards the other, until they become knit together in the bonds of +friendship, there is something more than accident in that. + +"How long have you been in Mr. Compton's office?" said George, as they +walked along, + +"Nearly two years," he replied; "I went there as soon as I left school. +I was then about seventeen years old; and there I have been ever since." + +"Then you are my senior by two years," said George. "I left school a +year ago, and this is my first situation. How do you like the office?" + +"Do you mean my particular seat, the clerks, or the duties, or all +combined?" + +"I should like to know how you like the whole combined." + +"I prefer my desk to yours, because I sit next to Mr. Malcolm, who is +one of the steadiest and most respectable clerks in the office; and +therefore I am not subject to so much annoyance as you will be, seated +next to that empty-headed Williams, and coarse low-minded Lawson. I do +not really like any of the clerks; there are none of them the sort of +young men I should choose as companions. As to the duties, they are +agreeable enough, and I have nothing to find fault with on that score." + +"I tell you candidly," said George, "I am not prepossessed in favour of +the clerks; they are far too 'fast' a set to please me; but I am very +glad, for my own sake, that you are in the office, Mr. Hardy." + +"Why?" + +"Because, although we are almost strangers at present, I know I shall +find in you some one who will be companionable. You don't seem very +thick with the others; you don't join with them in that mean practice of +shirking work directly Mr. Sanders's back is turned; and you don't, from +what I have heard, approve of the society at the King's Head, in which +the others seem to take so much delight. Now, in these points, I think, +our tastes are similar." + +"Ah! Mr. Weston," said Hardy, "you will find, as I have done, that +amongst such a set we are obliged to allow a great many things we do not +approve. But I'm very glad you have come amongst us; unity is strength, +you know, and two can make a better opposition than one. Now, will you +let me give you a hint?" + +"Certainly," said George. + +"Be on your guard with Lawson and Williams; they are two dangerous young +men, and can do no end of mischief, because they are double-faced--sneaking +sometimes, and bullying at others. I don't know whether you have heard +that you are filling a vacancy caused by one of our clerks leaving the +office in disgrace. It is not worth while my telling you the story now, +but that poor chap would never have left in the way he did, had it not +been for Lawson and Williams." + +"Many thanks, Mr. Hardy, for your information and advice, upon which I +will endeavour to act. And now, as our roads lay differently, we must +say good evening." + +"Adieu, then, till to-morrow," said Hardy. "By-the-bye, I pass this +road in the morning, at half-past eight; if you are here we will walk to +the office together." + +It took George the whole of the evening to give his mother a full +account of the day's proceedings; there were so many questions to ask on +her part, and so many descriptions to give on his, and such a number of +events occurred during the day, that it seemed as if he had at least a +week's experience to narrate. + +"I like Hardy, mother," said George, once or twice during the evening; +"he is such a thorough open-hearted fellow, and I know we shall get +along together capitally." + +"I hope so, my boy," said his mother; "but be very careful how you form +any other friendships." + +When Mrs. Western retired to her room for the night, it was not to +sleep. She felt anxious and uneasy about George; she thought of him as +the loving, gentle child, the merry, light-hearted boy, and the manly, +conscientious youth. Then she thought of the future. How would he stand +against the evil influences surrounding him? Would his frank, ingenuous +manner change, and the confidence he always reposed in her cease? Would +he be led away by the gay and thoughtless young men with whom he would +be associated? + +Tears gathered in the widow's eyes, and many a sigh sounded in that +quiet room; but Mrs. Weston had a Friend at hand, to whom she could go +and pour out all her anxieties. She would cast her burden on Him, for +she knew He cared for her. As she knelt before the mercy-seat, these +were her prayers:-- + +"Lord, create in him a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within him. +May he remember Thee in the days of his youth. Heavenly Father, lead him +not into temptation, but deliver him from evil Guide him by Thy counsel, +and lead him in the paths of righteousness, for Thy Name's sake." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW. + + +Six months passed rapidly away. George continued to give satisfaction to +Mr. Compton, soon learnt the office routine, and earned the warmest +expressions of approbation from Mr. Sanders, who said he was the best +junior clerk he ever remembered to have entered that office. + +George had carefully guarded against forming any kind of intimacy with +the other clerks; he had declined to have more to say to them during +office hours than possible, and when business was over he purposely +shunned them. But a strong friendship had sprung up between him and +Charles Hardy; every morning they came to the city together, and +returned in company in the evening. Sometimes George would spend an +evening at the house of Hardy's parents, and Hardy, in like manner, +would occasionally spend an evening with George. + +Williams and Lawson had, as Hardy predicted, been a source of great +annoyance to George. He was constantly obliged to bear their ridicule +because he would not conform to their habits, and sometimes the insults +he received were almost beyond his power of endurance. He and Hardy +received the name of the "Siamese youths," and were generally greeted +with such salutations as "How d'ye do? Is mamma pretty well?"--or +something equally galling. But George bore it all with exemplary +patience, and he did not doubt that after a while they would grow tired +of annoying him. At all events, he felt certain some new policy would be +adopted by them; for he had so risen in the estimation of his employer, +who began to repose confidence in him, and entrust him with more +important matters than he allowed the others to interfere with, that +George anticipated the time when the clerks would either be glad to +curry favour with him, or at least have to acknowledge that he was +regarded more highly than they were. + +So matters went on. Mrs. Weston was full of joy as she saw how well +George had kept his resolutions, and full of hope that he would continue +as he had begun. + +Mr. Brunton had given him many kind encouragements during this time, and +had felt himself well rewarded for all his trouble on George's behalf +by hearing from Mr. Compton of the satisfaction his services had given. + +And now an event occurred, simple and unimportant in itself, and yet it +was one that affected the whole of George's after-life. + +One evening, as he was leaving the office, and had just turned into +Fleet-street, a nice-looking, fashionably-dressed young man came running +up, and, clapping him on the shoulder, exclaimed, + +"What! George Weston, my old pippin, who ever thought of turning you up +in London!" + +"Harry Ashton! my old school-chum, how are you?" and the two friends +shook hands with a heartiness that surprised the passers-by. + +"Where ever have you been to, all these long years, George?" said Aston; +"only fancy, we have never seen each other since that day we were +playing hockey at dear old Dr. Seaward's, and you were hastily called +away to London. The Doctor told us the sad news, and we all felt for you +deeply, old fellow; in fact I never recollect the place having been so +gloomy before or since." + +"It was a sad time for me," said George; "and after that I lived at home +for a twelvemonth. Then I got an appointment in an office in +Falcon-court, and have held it just six months. Now, tell me where you +have sprung from, and where you have been since I last saw you?" + +"I stayed only six months longer at Dr. Seaward's and was then articled +to a surveyor in the Strand, with whom I have been nearly a year, and +now I am bound for my lodgings, and you must come with me." + +"You had better come with me," said George; "my mother will be so +pleased to welcome an old school-fellow of mine, and she is not +altogether a stranger to you." + +"Thank you, old fellow," replied Ashton; "I shall be very glad to accept +your invitation some other night; but, after our long separation, we +want to have a quiet, confidential chat over old times together, and I +must introduce you to my crib. I am a bachelor--all alone in my glory. +The old folks still live in the country, and I boarded at first in a +family; but that that was terribly slow work, and since that time I have +hung out on my own hook. So come along, George; I really can't hear any +excuse." + +George hesitated only a moment; he had never spent an evening from home +without first acquainting his mother; but this was an unusual event, +and he was so anxious to hear about Dr. Seaward, and talk over old +school days, the temptation was irresistible. + +Harry Ashton called a cab, much to George's surprise, into which they +jumped; and were not very long in getting into the Clapham road, where +they alighted before a large, nice looking house. + +"This is the crib," said Ashton, as he ushered George into a large +parlour, handsomely furnished with everything contributing to comfort +and amusement. "Now, make yourself at home. Here are some cigars +(producing a box of Havannahs), and here (opening a cellaret) is bottled +beer and wine; which shall it be?" + +"As to smoking, that is a bad habit, or an art (which you like) I have +never yet practised," said George; "but I will join you in a glass of +wine just to toast 'Dr. Seaward and our absent friends in the school.'" + +Then the two school friends fell into conversation. Many and many a +happy recollection came into their minds, and one long yarn was but the +preface to another. + +"Come, George, fill up your glass," said Ashton repeatedly; but George +declined. + +Two or three hours slipped rapidly away, and then George rose to leave. +"Not a bit of it, George," said Ashton; "we must have some supper and +discuss present times yet. I have not heard particulars of what you are +doing, or how you are getting on, and you only know I'm here, without +any of the history about it." + +So George yielded: how could he help it? Harry Ashton had become his +bosom-chum during the five years he had been at school, and all the old +happy memories of those days were again fresh upon him. + +"Now, George, tell your story first, and then mine shall follow." Then +George narrated all the leading circumstances which had attended his +life, from the time he left school up to that very evening, and a long +story it was. + +"Now," said Ashton, "for mine. When you left Folkestone I got up to your +place at the head of the school, and there I held on till I left. Six +months after you left, the holidays came, and I came up to town. I spent +a few days with Mr. Ralston, an old friend of the family, and one of the +first engineers and surveyors in London. He took a liking to me, offered +to take me into his office, wrote to the governor (I know you don't like +that term, though--I mean my father), proposed a sum as premium, +arrangements were made; and, instead of returning to school, I came to +London and commenced learning the arts and mysteries of a profession. I +had only been with Mr. Ralston two or three months, when one morning my +father came into the office, out of wind with excitement, and said, +'Harry, I have got sad and joyful, and wonderful news for you! Poor old +Mr. Cornish is dead; the will has been opened, and--make up your mind +for a surprise--the bulk of his property is left to you.' I was +thunderstruck. I knew the old gentleman would leave me something, but I +did not know that he had quarrelled with his relatives, and therefore +appropriated to me the share originally intended for them. So, you see, +I have stepped into luck's way. I am allowed an income now which amounts +to something like two hundred a year, as I shall not come into my rights +till I am twenty-one, and how I am not nineteen; so I have a long time +to wait, you see, which is rather annoying. I took this crib, and have +managed to enjoy my existence pretty well, I can assure you. Sometimes I +run down into the country to spend a week or two with the old folks, and +sometimes they come up and see me." + +"Don't you find it rather dull, living here alone, though?" said George. + +"Dull? far from it. I have a good large circle of friends, who like to +come round here and spend a quiet evening; and there are no end of +amusements in this great city, so that no one need never be dull. +Besides, if I am alone, I am not without friends, you see,"--pointing to +a well-stocked book case. + +"I have been running my eye over them, Harry. There are some very nice +books; but your tastes are changed since I knew you last, or you would +never waste your time over all this lot here which seem to have been +best used. I mean the 'Wandering Jew,' 'Ernest Maltravers,' and the +like." + +"I won't attempt to defend myself, George; but when I was at school, I +did as school-boys did: now I have come to London, I do as the Londoners +do. I know there is an absence of anything like reason in this, but I am +not much thrown amongst reasoners. But, to change the subject; now you +have found me out, George, I do hope you will very often chum with me. I +shall enjoy going about with you better than with anybody else; and as +we know one another so well, we shall soon have tastes and habits in +common again, as we used to have." + +Presently the clock struck. George started up in surprise. "What! +twelve o'clock! impossible. It never can be so late as that?" + +"It is, though," said Ashton, "but what of that? you don't surely call +twelve o'clock bad hours for once in a way?" + +"No, not for once in a way," replied George; "but I have never kept my +mother up so late before. Good-bye, old fellow. Promise to come and see +me some night this week. There is my address." And so saying, George ran +out into the street and made his way towards Islington. + +That was an anxious night for Mrs. Weston. "What can have happened?" she +asked herself a hundred times. Fortunately, Mr. Brunton called, and he +assisted to while away the time. + +"George does not often stay out of an evening, does he?" he asked. + +"No, never," replied Mrs. Weston; "unless it is with his friend, Charles +Hardy, and then I always know where they are, and what they are doing. +But something extraordinary must have happened to-night, and I feel very +anxious to know what it is. Not that I think he is anywhere he ought not +to be. I feel sure he is not," continued Mrs. Weston confidently; "but +what it is that has detained him, I am altogether at a loss to guess." + +"Well, I will not leave you till he comes home," said Mr. Brunton. + +It was one o'clock before George arrived; it was too late to get an +omnibus, and a cab, he thought, was altogether out of the question; +therefore he had to walk the whole distance--or rather run, for he was +as anxious now to get home as they were to see him. + +He was very much surprised, and, if it must be confessed, rather vexed +on some accounts, to find Mr. Brunton waiting up for him with his +mother. + +His explanation of what had happened, told in his merry, ingenuous way, +at once dissipated any anxiety they had felt. + +"I recollect Harry Ashton well," said Mrs. Weston. "Dr. Seaward pointed +him out to me, the first time I went to see you at Folkestone, as being +one of his best scholars; and he came home once with you in the holidays +to spend a day or two with us, did he not?" + +"That is the same, mother, and a better-hearted fellow it would be hard +to find." + +"There is only one disadvantage that I see in your having him as an +intimate friend," said Uncle Brunton, "and that is, he is now very +differently situated in position to you as regards wealth, and you +might find him a companion more liable to lead you into expense than any +of your other friends, because I know what a proud fellow you are, +George," he said, laughingly, "you like to do as your friends do, and +would not let them incur expense on your account unless you could return +their compliment. But I will not commence a moral discourse to-night--it +is time all good folks should be in bed." + +All the next day George was thinking over the events of the previous +evening; he was pleased to have found out Harry Ashton, and thought he +would be just the young man he wanted for a companion. Then he compared +their different modes of life--Ashton living in luxuriant circumstances, +without anybody or anything to interfere with his enjoyment, and he, +obliged to live very humbly and carefully in order to make both ends +meet; and then came a new feeling, that of restraint. + +"There is Ashton," he thought, "can go out when he likes and where he +likes, without its being necessary to say where he is going or what he +is going to do, and he can come in at night without being obliged to +account for all his actions like a child. If I happen to stay out, there +is Uncle Brunton and my mother in a great state of excitement about me, +which I don't think is right. I really do not wonder that the clerks +have made me a laughing-stock. All this while I have lived in London I +have seen nothing; have not been to any of the places of amusement; and +have not been a bit like the young men with whom I get thrown into +contact. I think Ashton is right, after all, in saying that when he was +at school he did as school-boys did, and when he came to London he did +as the Londoners do. Far be it from me to be undutiful to those who care +for me; but I think, as a young man, I do owe a duty to myself, +different altogether from that which belonged to me as a schoolboy." + +These were all new thoughts to George: he had never felt or even thought +of restraint before; he had never even expressed a wish to do as other +young men did, in wasting precious time on useless amusements; he had +always looked forward to an evening at home with pleasure, and had never +felt the least inclination to wander forth in search of recreation +elsewhere. Nay, he had always condemned it; and when Lawson or Williams, +or any of the other clerks, had proposed such a thing to him, he never +minded bearing their ridicule in declining. + +And here was George's danger. He was upon his guard with his +fellow-clerks, and was able to keep his resolution not to adopt their +ideas, nor fall into their ways and habits; but when those very evils he +condemned in them were presented to him in a different form by Harry +Ashton, his old friend and school-fellow--leaving the principle the +same, and only the practice a little altered--he was off his guard; and +the habits he regarded with dislike in Williams and Lawson, he was +beginning secretly to admire in Ashton. + +As he walked home that evening with Hardy he gave him a long description +of his meeting with Ashton, and all that happened during his interview +and upon his return home. + +"Now, Hardy," said George, "which do you think is really +preferable--Harry Ashton's life or ours? We never go out anywhere; and, +for the matter of that, might as well be living in monasteries, as far +as knowing what is going on in the world is concerned." + +"For my own part, Weston," said Hardy, "I would rather be as I am. Your +friend is surrounded with infinitely greater temptations than we are, +from the fact of his living as he does without any control. He is +evidently free from his parents, and although he is old enough to take +care of himself, still there is a certain restraint felt under a +parent's roof which is very desirable." + +"Quite true," said George; "but that involves a point which has been +perplexing me all day. Should we, after we have arrived at a certain +age, acknowledge a parent's control as we did when we were mere +school-boys? I do not mean are we to cease to honour them, because that +we cannot do while God's commandment lasts; but are we, as Williams +says, always to go in leading-strings, or are we at liberty to think and +act for ourselves?" + +"That depends a good deal on the way in which we wish to think and act. +For instance, my parents object to Sunday travelling and Sunday +visiting. Now, while I am living with them, I feel it would not be right +for me to do either of these things--even though as a matter of +principle I might not see any positive wrong in them--because it would +bring me into opposition with my parents. So, in spending evenings away +from home, I know it would be contrary to their wish, and it is right to +try and prevent our opinions clashing." + +"I agree with you, partly, Hardy; but only partly. We must study our +parents' opinions in the main, but not in points of detail. Suppose I +want to attend a course of lectures, for example, which would take me +from home sometimes in the evening; and my mother objects to my spending +evenings from home, although the study might be advantageous to me--then +I think I should be at liberty to adhere to my own opinion; if not, I +should be under the same restraint I was as a child. It is right and +natural that parents should feel desirous to know what associations +their sons are forming, and what are their habits, and all that sort of +thing; but I am inclined to think it is not right for a parent to +exercise so strong a control as to say, 'So-and-so shall be your +companion;' and, 'You may go to this place, but you may not go to +that.'" + +"Well, Weston, your digestion must be out of order, or you are a little +bilious, or something; for I never heard you talk like this before. I +have told you, confidentially sometimes, that I have wanted to rebel +against the wishes of my parents on some points, and you have always +counselled me, like a sage, grey-headed father, to give up my desire. +But now you turn right round, and place me in the position of the +parent, and you the rebellious son. I recommend, therefore, that you +take two pills, for I am sure bile is at the bottom of this; and then I +will feel your pulse upon this point again." + +Mrs. Weston noticed a difference in George that evening. He seemed as +if he had got something upon his mind which was perplexing him. He was +not so cheerful and merry as usual, but his mother attributed it partly +to his late hours, followed by a hard day's work, and therefore she said +nothing to him about it. + +A day or two elapsed, and George was still brooding upon the same +subject. He did not know that the great tempter was weaving a subtle net +around him, to lure him into the broad road which leadeth to +destruction. He tried a hundred times to fight against the strange +influence he felt upon him; but he did not fight with the right weapons, +and therefore he failed. Had the tempter suggested to him that, as he +was a young man, he should do as his fellow-clerks, or even Ashton did, +and have his way in all things, he would have seen the temptation; but +it came altogether in a different way. The evil voice said, "You are +under restraint. Ask any young man of your own age, and he will tell you +so. It is high time you should unloose yourself from apron-strings." And +this idea of restraint was preying upon him, and he could not throw it +off. George was anxious to do the right, but did not know how to fight +against the wrong. Conscience whispered to him, "Do you remember that +motto your dying father gave you, 'For me to live is Christ?'" George +replied, "Yes, I remember it; and it is still my desire to follow it." +Conscience said again, "Do you recollect that sermon you heard, and the +resolutions you made, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou +not?'" And he answered, "I remember it well; but I am not aware that any +are endeavouring to entice me." + +This was the effect of the unconscious influence of Harry Ashton. He had +unknowingly fanned a latent spark into a flame, which, unless checked, +would consume all those high and praiseworthy resolutions which George +had formed, and carefully kept for years. He had cast a shadow over the +landscape of his friend's well-being, which made the sign-posts pointing +"upward and onward" almost indistinct. He had breathed into the +atmosphere a subtle malaria, and George had caught the disease. The +little leaven was now mixed with his life, which would leaven the whole. +The genus of that moral consumption, which, unless cured by the Great +Physician, ends in death, had been sown, and were now taking root. + +George was unconscious of any foreign influence working upon him--he +could not see that Ashton had in any way exerted a power over him; nor +in the new and undefined feelings which had taken possession of him +could he recognise the presence of evil. He had consulted conscience, +and, he fancied, had satisfactorily met the warnings of its voice. + +But he had _not_ gone to that high and sure source of strength which can +alone make a way of escape from all temptations; he had _not_ obtained +that armour of righteousness which is the only defence against the fiery +darts of the wicked one; he had _not_ that faith, in the power of which +alone Satan can be resisted; and therefore his eyes were holden so that +he could not see the snares which the subtle foe was laying around him, +nor could he, in his own strength, bear up against the strong tide which +was threatening to overwhelm him. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A FARCE. + + +Harry Ashton kept his promise, and went one evening that week to see +George at Islington. Hardy had been invited to meet him; and the three +friends, as they kept up a perfect rattle of conversation, interspersed +with many crossfired jokes, made the merriest and happiest little party +that could be imagined. + +Mrs. Weston was very much pleased with Ashton--his refined thought and +gentlemanly address, joined with an open-hearted candour and a fund of +humour which sparkled in every sentence, made it impossible for any one +not to like him. Charles Hardy thought he had never met a more +entertaining companion than Ashton; Ashton thought Hardy was an +intelligent, agreeable fellow; and George declared to his mother that, +if he had had the pick of all the young men in London, he could not have +found two nicer fellows. + +A hundred topics were discoursed upon during the evening, in which +Ashton generally took the lead, and showed himself to be very well +informed on all ordinary subjects. Incidentally the theatre was +mentioned. + +"Have you seen that new piece at the Lyceum?" said Ashton. "It is really +a very capital thing." + +"No," said George. "I have never been to a theatre." + +"Nor I," said Hardy. + +"Nor I," said Mrs. Weston. + +"Well, that is really very extraordinary," said Ashton; "I thought +almost everybody went to a theatre at some time or other. But perhaps +you have some objection?" + +"I have," said Mrs. Weston. "I think there is a great deal of evil +learnt there, and very little good, if any. It is expensive; and it +leads into other bad habits." + +"Those last objections cannot be gainsaid," said Ashton; "but they +equally apply to all amusements, and therefore, by that rule, all +amusements are bad." + +"But not in an equal degree with that of the theatre," George remarked; +"because other amusements do not possess such an infatuation. For my +own part, I should not mind going to a concert; but I very much +disapprove of the theatre, and should never hesitate to decline going +there." + +"Yours is not a good argument, George. You have never been to the +theatre, you say, and yet you disapprove of it. Are you right in +pronouncing such an opinion, which cannot be the result of your own +investigation?" + +"I think I am," replied George; "I can adopt the opinions of those whom +experience has instructed in the matter, and in whom I can rely with +implicit confidence. If a man goes through a dangerous track, and falls +into a bog, I should be willing to admit the track was dangerous, and +avoid the bog, without going in to prove the former traveller was right; +and this applies to going to theatres." + +"No, George; there is your error. There would be no two opinions about +the bog; but suppose you go for a tour to the Pyrenees, and, from +prejudice or some other cause, come back disgusted. You warn me not to +go, telling me I shall be wasting my time, and find nothing interesting +to reward my trouble in the journey. But Hardy goes the same tour, comes +home delighted, and says, 'Go to the Pyrenees by all means; it is a +glorious place, the most pleasant in the whole world for a tour.' To +decide the question, I read two books; one agrees with you, and the +other with Hardy. How can I arrive at an opinion unless I go myself, and +see what it is like? So it is with the theatre: some say it is the great +teacher of morals, others that it is the most wicked and hurtful place. +Therefore I think every one should form his own opinion from his own +experience." + +"You may be right," said George, waveringly. "I am not clear upon the +subject; but I do not think, even if I were to form an opinion in the +way you prescribe, that I should ever choose the theatre as a place of +amusement." + +"Then what is your favourite amusement?" asked Ashton. + +"To come home and read, or spend a social evening with a friend," George +answered. + +"Then I know what will suit you all to pieces," said Ashton; "and your +friend Hardy too. I am a member of a literary institution. It is a +first-rate place--the best in London. There are lectures and classes, +and soirées, a debating society, a good library, and rooms for +chess-playing and that sort of thing. Now, you really must join it; it +will be so very nice for us to have a regular place of meeting; and, +besides that, we can combine study with amusement. What do you say, Mrs. +Weston?" + +"I cannot see any objection to literary institutions," said Mrs. Weston; +"but I have always considered them better suited to young men who are +away from home, than for those who have comfortable homes in which to +spend their evenings. You speak about having a regular place of meeting. +I shall always be very pleased to see you and Mr. Hardy here, as often +as ever you can manage to spend an evening with us." + +"Many thanks for your kindness, Mrs. Weston," returned Ashton; "but it +would not be right for us to trespass on your good nature. Now I will +give you and your friend a challenge, George," he continued. "Next +Monday, the first debate of the season comes off; will you allow me to +introduce you to the institution on that evening?--it is a member's +privilege." + +"I shall be very pleased to join you, then," said George. "What say you, +Hardy?" + +"I accept the invitation, with thanks," replied Hardy. + +On Monday night, as George and Hardy journeyed towards the place of +meeting, they discussed the question of joining the institution. + +"If you will, I will," said Hardy. "My parents do not much like the +idea; but, as you said the other evening, 'we must not allow ourselves +to be controlled like mere children.'" + +"I do think we really require a little recreation after business hours; +and we can obtain none better than that of an intellectual kind, such as +is found at literary institutions. The new term has only just commenced; +so we may as well be enrolled as members at once." + +"I wish the institution was a little nearer home," said Hardy, "for it +will be so late of an evening for us to be out. However, we need not +always attend, nor is it necessary we should very often be late. Have +you had any difficulty in obtaining Mrs. Weston's consent to your +joining?" + +"None at all; she prefers my attending an institution of this kind to +any other, although probably she would be better pleased if I did not +join one at all. But, as Ashton says, we really must live up to the +times, and know something of what is going on in the world around us. +Did you not notice, the other evening, how Ashton could speak upon every +subject brought on the carpet? My mother said, 'What a remarkably +agreeable young man he is! he has evidently seen a good deal of +society;' and I think the two things are inseparable--to be agreeable +in society, one must mix more with it." + +Ashton was punctual to his appointment; and all were at the institution +just as the members were assembling for the debate. George was surprised +to find how many of the young men knew Ashton, and he admired the ease +and elegance of his friend in acknowledging the greetings which met him +on every hand. + +"I won't bore you with introductions to-night," he said, "except to just +half-a-dozen fellows in particular, who, I am sure, you will like to +know; and we can all sit together and compare opinions during the +debate." + +The friends were accordingly introduced; and as the proceedings of the +evening went on, and all waxed warm upon the subject under discussion, +the party which Ashton had drawn together soon became known to one +another, and were on terms of conversational acquaintance. + +The meeting separated at ten o'clock, and then George and Hardy essayed +to bid good-night to their friends, and make their way at once towards +Islington. + +"Nonsense," said Ashton; "I want you to come with me to a nice quiet +place I know, close by, and have a bit of supper and a chat over all +that has been said, and then I will walk part of the way home with you." + +"No, not to-night, Ashton; it is quite late enough already; and it will +be past eleven o'clock before we get home as it is." + +"What say you, Hardy? Can you persuade our sage old friend to abandon +his ten o'clock habits for one night?" asked Ashton. + +"I do not like to establish a bad precedent," said Hardy; "and as we +have to-night joined the institution, I think we should make a rule to +start off home as soon as we leave the meetings, because we have some +distance to go, and bad hours, you know, interfere with business." + +"I did not expect you to make a rule to keep bad hours," said Ashton;" +but every rule has an exception--" + +"And therefore it will not do to commence with the exception; so +good-bye, till we meet again on Wednesday." + +Three nights a-week there was something going on at the institution +sufficiently attractive to draw George and Hardy there. One evening a +lecture, another the discussion class, and the third an elocution class, +or more frequently that was resigned in favour of chess. From meeting +the same young men, night after night, a great number of new +acquaintanceships were formed, and George would never have spent an +evening at home, had he accepted the invitations which were frequently +being given him; but he had made a compact with himself, that he would +never be out more than three evenings a week, and would devote the +remainder to the society of his mother. A certain little voice did +sometimes say to him, "Is it quite right and kind of you, George, to +leave your mother so often? Do you not think it must be rather lonely +for her, sometimes, without you?" And George would answer to the voice, +"Mother would never wish to stand between me and my improvement. +Besides, she has many friends who visit her, and with whom she visits; +and few young men of my age give their mothers more than three evenings +of their society a week." + +One evening, as George and Hardy were entering the institution, Harry +Ashton came up to them, and said,-- + +"I have just had some tickets sent me for the Adelphi. There is nothing +going on here worth staying for, so I shall go. Dixon will make one, and +you and Hardy must make up the quartette." + +"Dixon going?" asked George; "why, I thought he was such a sedate +fellow, and never went to anything of the sort!" + +"Neither does he, as a rule; but he has never been to the Adelphi, and +he wants to go. Will you accompany us?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "I told you once I did not like theatres; +perhaps you recollect we discussed the point one evening?" + +"We did, and you said you had never been to a theatre: you disapproved +of them, without ever having had an opportunity of judging whether they +were good or bad places. Now, take the opportunity." + +"I am not anxious to form a judgment; and I so dislike all the +associations of a theatre that it would be no pleasure for me to go." + +"Complimentary, certainly!" laughed Ashton. "But I will grant you this +much--there are bad associations connected with the theatres, and this +is the stronghold of objectors; but we are four staid sober fellows, we +shall go to our box without any bother, sit and see the play without +exchanging a word with anybody beyond our own party, and then leave as +soon as the performance is over. You had better say you will go, eh?" + +"No, it would be very late before I got home," said George: "and I do +not like keeping my mother up, more particularly as I was so very late +the other evening. But what do you say, Hardy?" + +"I don't know what to say," said Hardy. "I did once say to myself I +would never go to a theatre; but I am not sure that there is any moral +obligation why I should keep my word, when the compact rests only with +myself. I have not time to consult Paley, and so I put the question to +you--Can I go, seeing I have said to myself I will not?" + +"Arrange it in this way," said Ashton; "both of you go, and when you get +there, if you decide you have done wrong, then leave at once; or if you +find that your consciences are in durance vile, and you have not +patience or sufficient interest to stay and see the play out, go, and I +will excuse you then with all my heart; but I won't excuse your not +going. Now is your time to decide; for here comes Dixon, true to his +appointment." + +"I suppose you have got your party complete, Ashton?" he said; "and if +so, we had better start at once, or the play will have begun before we +get there." + +George pondered no longer. "Suppose we try it, Hardy, on Ashton's +plan," said he; "I don't see any harm in that, do you?" + +"No, I think that is the best way in which the case can be put," he +replied; "and I don't see that any harm can possibly come of it." + +Away went the party, full of high spirits, bent upon amusement. But +George felt a certain uneasy something, which tried to make him feel +less pleased with himself than usual, and his laugh was at first forced +and unnatural; there was not the same joyousness there would have been +had he been starting on some recreation which he knew would be approved +by parent and friends, and his own conscience. Ashton noticed he did not +seem to be quite at ease; and therefore he brought all his humour into +play to provoke hilarity. By the time they arrived at the theatre, that +love of novelty and excitement which is so natural to young people +completely overcame all other feelings, and the sight of the crowds +flocking into all parts of the house was now an irresistible temptation +to follow in too. + +They were shown into a very comfortable box, commanding a good view of +the whole of the theatre. The thrilling strains of music issuing from +the orchestra, the dazzling lights, and the large assembly of elegantly +dressed ladies in the boxes, a mass of people in the pit, and tiers of +heads in the galleries, filled George with excitement. He who a little +while before had been the dullest of the party, was now the gayest of +the gay; he was lost in astonishment at all he saw and heard, dazzled +with the brilliancy of the scene, and abandoned to all the enjoyments of +the hour. + +The performances that evening consisted of a farce, the comedy of the +"Serious Family," and a ballet. When the curtain rose, and the farce +commenced, George entered heart and soul into the spirit of the +performance; laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks at the +dilemmas of an unlucky wight who acted a prominent part, and stamped +applause in favour of a young lady who tried in every way to defend this +unfortunate individual from his persecutors. + +When it was over, Ashton turned to George, and said-- + +"Well, Weston, so much for the farce; now, if you think it is +objectionable, off you go, old fellow, and we will forgive you." + +"No," said George; "I think that farce was capital, and I shall stay now +and see the end. I am not surprised people like the theatre--I never +enjoyed a laugh more in my life. But there is one thing I have not +liked. That hero of the piece did not scruple to use language for which +he would have been kicked out of any respectable private house--and yet +there are respectable people here, old and young, all listening and +seeming to enjoy it. That shows there is insincerity somewhere; either +these people hush their sensitive feelings in the playhouse, or they are +hypocrites at home, and profess to be much more refined than they really +are." + +"You evidently don't understand plays yet," said Ashton; "that man +depicts a certain style of life, and he must be true to it. If he enacts +the part of a costermonger, he must swear and talk slang, and commit +crimes, if need be, or anything suiting the character he assumes; or +else the thing would be absurd, and the gentleman and costermonger would +be both alike." + +"The theatre must be a 'great teacher of morals,' then, if we come here +to be initiated into the vices of costermongers," said George, rather +sarcastically. + +"George," whispered Hardy, "we've got into a mess; look down in the +pit--Williams and Lawson are there. They have recognized us, and are +nodding--shall we nod?" + +"Yes," said George, and he nodded; but his face was red as crimson. "I +would not have had Lawson and Williams see us here for the world," he +whispered to Hardy; "but it's too late now--as you say, we've got into a +mess." + +Just then the curtain rose again, and the play of the "Serious Family," +commenced. + +The plot of the piece is this:-- + +Mr. Abinadab Sleek and Lady Creamly are two hypocrites, introduced as +ordinary specimens of Christians. They are living in the house of their +daughter and son-in-law (Mr. and Mrs. Charles Torrens), over whom they +exercise a stern and despotic control. Mr. Charles Torrens, "for the +sake of peace and quietness," agrees to all the solemnities opposed upon +him; and is willing to pass himself off in Christian circles as a +co-worker with Mr. Abinadab Sleek. In his heart he detests everything +like seriousness; and whenever an opportunity occurs, on the pretext of +going into the country, indulges in the gaieties and vices of London +fashionable life. He is visited by an old friend, Captain Murphy +Maguire, who persuades him to renounce boldly the sanctimonious customs +of the "Serious Family," and enjoy with unshackled freedom the pleasures +of the world. To this he consents; but he has not courage to alter the +family customs. Captain Maguire aids his plans by convincing Mrs. C. +Torrens that unless she provides in her home those amusements which are +found in the world, her husband will prefer the world to his home. A +conspiracy is laid to oppose the religious tyranny of Mr. Abinadab +Sleek, the result of which is, that a ball is given by Mr. Torrens, +assisted by his wife, who, throwing off her former profession of +Christianity, becomes a woman of the world. On all this their future +happiness as man and wife is made to hinge; and when, through the flimsy +plot of the piece, the tableau arrives, the curtain drops, leaving the +younger members of the "Serious Family" whirling in the giddy dance, +commencing the new era of domestic happiness. + +Throughout the play, Scripture is quoted and ridiculed, religion is made +contemptible, and vice under the name of "geniality, openheartedness, +and merriment," is made to appear the one thing necessary to constitute +real happiness. + +George followed the play through all its shifting scenes; now laughed, +now sighed, now felt the hot blush of shame as he listened to the +atrocious mockery of everything which, from the time he had been an +infant on his mother's knee, he had been taught to regard as good and +pure. He was heated to indignation when the audience applauded the base +character of Maguire, and shuddered when as he thought that a masked +hypocrite was brought before the world as the type of a Christian, and +that a "Serious Family" was only another name for an unhappy, canting +set of ignorant people. + +And yet George did not leave the theatre. He was hurt, wounded to the +heart by what he saw and heard, felt he would have given the world to +have stood up in the box, and have told the audience that the play was a +libel upon everything sacred and solemn; but he stayed and saw it out, +rivetted by that strange, unholy infatuation which has been the bane of +so many. + +"Let us go now, Hardy," he said, as the curtain dropped; "you do not +care to see the ballet, do you?" + +"Oh, in for a penny, in for a pound. While we are here, we may as well +see all that is to be seen. I won't ask you how you liked the comedy. I +want to see something lively now, to remove the disagreeable impressions +it has left upon me." + +And so they stayed, delighted with the music, fascinated with the +graceful dancing, and dazzled with the scenery. At length the curtain +fell, and the evening's performance was over. + +"It is only half-past eleven," said Ashton, when they got outside; "now +we must just turn in somewhere, and get a bit of supper, and then, I +suppose we must separate. There is a first-rate hotel close handy, where +I sometimes dine. What do you say?" + +"Just the place for us," said Dixon; "because we must limit ourselves to +half an hour, and we shall get what we want quickly there." + +As they went into the supper-room, George saw, to his vexation, Lawson +and Williams, with a party of boon companions, seated round a table at +the further end. He instantly drew back; but it was too late, they had +recognised him. + +"Confound it!" he said to Ashton, "there are some chaps from our office, +at the end there. I do not wish to meet them; cannot we go into a +private room?" + +"Certainly," said Ashton; and the party retreated. "But why do you not +wish to meet your fellow clerks?" + +"Because they are a low set of fellows with whom I have nothing in +common." + +When supper was over and the clock had struck twelve, the party +separated. + +"Good night, old fellow," said Ashton to George. "I am sorry we have +not seen quite the sort of play you would have liked; but now you have +seen the worst side of the theatre, and next time we go together we will +try and see the best; so that between the two extremes you will be able +to discriminate and determine what sort of place the theatre is as an +amusement." + +"Thank you, Ashton, for your share in the entertainment to-night. I will +talk to you about the play some other time; but I must say, candidly, I +never felt so distressed in my life as I did while that gross insult to +all good feeling, 'The Serious Family,' was being performed. If you had +said to me what that wretch, Captain Maguire, said in my hearing +to-night, I would not have shaken hands with you again as I do now." + +An omnibus happened to be passing for the Angel at Islington that +moment, and George and Hardy got up. + +"What shall we do with regard to Williams and Lawson?" said Hardy. "They +have got a victory to-night. I fear our protest against theatres and +taverns is over with them for ever now, seeing they have caught us at +both places." + +"I cannot but regret the circumstance," said George, "but it is nothing +to them; they are not our father-confessors, and we are not bound to +enter into any particulars with them. The greatest difficulty with me is +how to manage when I get home. I don't like deceiving my mother; but I +should not like to pain her by saying I have been to the theatre. She +knew I started for the institution, and that I might possibly be late; +so, unless she asks me where I have been, I don't see that there will be +any good in unnecessarily distressing her." + +"The disagreeable thing in such a case is," replied Hardy, "if the fact +comes out afterwards, it _looks_ as if a deception had been practised." + +George and Hardy had never talked together like this before; and they +spoke hesitatingly, as if they hardly liked to hear their own voices +joining to discuss a mean, unworthy, dishonourable trick. + +O temptation! what an inclined path is thine! How slippery for the feet, +and how rapidly the unwary traveller slides along, lower and lower--each +step making the attempt to ascend again to high ground more difficult! +George had made many dangerous slips that night--would he ever regain +his position? + +Mrs. Weston was sitting up for George, and pleased was she to hear, at +last, his knock at the door. + +"Mother, this is too bad of me, keeping you up so late," said George. "I +really did not mean to keep bad hours to-night; but I will turn over a +new leaf for the future." + +"I do not mind sitting up, George, if it is for your good," she +answered; "but I fear you will not improve your health by being so late +as this. Have you enjoyed your meeting to-night?" + +"Pretty well," said George; "but I have been with Ashton, Dixon, and +Hardy since." + +"Then you have not had supper?" + +"Yes, we had supper with Ashton." George got red as he said this. It was +the first time he ever remembered wilfully deceiving his mother. + +"Oh! that has made you late, then," said Mrs. Weston. "I am afraid +Ashton has so many attractions in those apartments of his--what with +friends, books, and curiosities--that you find it difficult to break up +your social gatherings." + +"It is too bad of me to leave you so often, my dear mother; but I don't +mean to go to Ashton's again for some time, unless he comes to see us; +and so I shall return straight home from the institution for a long +while." + +When George retired to his room, he felt so distracted with all that +had taken place, that his old custom of reading a chapter from God's +Word, and kneeling down to pray before getting into bed, was abandoned +for that night. He tried to sleep, but could not. The strains of music +were yet ringing in his ears, and the dazzling light was still flashing +before his eyes. Then the plays came again before him; and he followed +the plots throughout, smiling again over some of the jokes, and feeling +depressed at the sad parts. Then he thought of Williams and Lawson, and +reproached himself for having acted that evening very, very foolishly. +Alas! this was not the right term; it was more than foolishness to +tamper with the voice of conscience, to violate principles which had +been inculcated from childhood, to plot wilful deceit, and act a lie. +Instead of saying he had acted foolishly, he should have said, "Father, +I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight Have mercy upon me, O God! +Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquities, and cleanse me from my sin; for +against Thee, Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil." But George +only said, "I am so very vexed I went with Ashton to-night; it was very +foolish!--very foolish!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE LECTURE. + + +"You look seedy this morning, Mr. Weston," said Williams, as George +entered the office on the following day. "The effect of last night's +dissipation, I suppose. How did you like the play?" + +"Not at all," answered George, mortified and angry at having the +question put to him before all the clerks, who were now informed of the +fact of his having been there. + +"No; I suppose one Abinadab Sleek does not like to hear another one of +the same gang spoken ill of, eh?" + +"I do not understand you," said George. + +"Then, to put it plainer, you and Hardy, who are of the 'Serious Family' +style, don't like to see yourselves taken off quite so true to life as +you were last night at the Adelphi. You saw that old canting Abinadab +Sleek was up to every dodge and vice, although he did seem such a +sanctified individual in public; and our young Solomons, who condemn +wicked theatres and disgusting taverns, can go to both on the sly, and +be as sanctimonious as ever Abinadab was in office." + +George felt his hands clench, and his eyes flash fire. He could bear +taunts from Williams, when he had right on his side, and felt the +consciousness of innocence; but he could not bear it now. + +"You lie," said George passionately, "in drawing that comparison." + +"And you lie continually," said Williams, "in acting a perpetual edition +of that part of the 'Serious Family' represented by Abinadab Sleek." + +"Fight it out I fight it out!" said Lawson. "The Governor won't be here +for half an hour; bolt the door and have it out." + +"Nothing of the kind," said Hardy, stepping forward. "Williams is the +aggressor in this instance; it is nothing to him if Weston and I went to +the theatre every night in our lives; he has no right to interfere; if +he fights it must be with Weston and me, for he insults me as much as my +friend." + +"Then come on," said Williams, taking off his coat, "and I'll take you +both: one man is worth two canting hypocrites, any day." + +But no one had bolted the door, and, to the surprise of all, Mr. +Compton stood before them. + +"What is this?" he said; "young men in my office talking of fighting, as +if it were the tap-room of a public house? George Weston! I did not +think this of you." + +"Do not judge hastily, sir," said Hardy. "My friend Weston has been +grossly insulted by Mr. Williams, and the little disturbance has only +been got up through jealousy, to get him into trouble." + +"Step into my room a moment, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Compton; "and you, +too, Weston and Williams." + +George was flushed with excitement; but his proud, manly bearing, in +contrast to the crest-fallen Williams, won for him the admiration of the +whole staff of clerks. + +Mr. Compton patiently heard from Hardy a recital of the causes leading +to the fray, and was made acquainted with the course of opposition +George had to contend with, from Williams and Lawson, ever since he had +been in the office. + +"I regret this circumstance," said Mr. Compton, "for several reasons. I +have always held you, Weston, in the highest estimation, nor do I see +sufficient cause, from this event, to alter my estimate; but I have +always found my best clerks those who have been in the habit of spending +their evenings elsewhere than in theatres and taverns. I am not +surprised at the part you have taken, Mr. Williams; and it now rests +with you, whether you remain in this office or leave. I will not have +the junior clerks in this establishment held in subjection to those who +have been with me a few years longer; nor will I have a system of insult +and opposition continued, which must eventually lead to unpleasant +results. If I hear any more of this matter, or find that you persist in +your unwarranted insults on Mr. Weston, I shall at once dismiss you from +my service. You did well, Mr. Hardy, in interfering to prevent a +disgraceful fight; and, much as I dislike tale-bearing, I request you to +inform me, for the future, of any unpleasantness arising to Mr. Weston +from this affair." + +Williams was terribly crest-fallen, and the tide of office opinion +turned from him in favour of George and Hardy, who, without crowing over +the victory they had gained, yet showed a manly determination not to +allow an insult which reflected upon their characters. + +"I tell you what it is," whispered Lawson to Williams; "Old Compton +takes a fancy to those two sneaking fellows, and, after this affair, +the office will get too hot for us if we do not draw it milder to them. +If I were you, I should waylay them outside the office and say something +civil, by way of soft soap, so as to nip this matter off, for you've got +the worst of it so far." + +Williams determined to accept the hint Lawson had given him, and when +the office closed, remained in the court until George came out. + +"Mr. Weston," he said, stretching out his hand, which George felt would +be mean-spirited not to take, "that was an unpleasant affair this +morning, but I didn't think you would fire up as you did; and when I let +fly at you, it was only in joke." + +"I must deny that it was a joke," George replied; "it was an intended +insult. Probably you might not have thought it would have produced +indignation in me, because you, evidently, do not understand my feelings +in the matter. However, let the thing drop now. I will not retract what +I said to you this morning, that you lied in forming that estimate of my +character, nor do I ask you to retract your words, unless your +conscience tells you that you wronged me." + +"What I said was hasty, and I don't mind eating all my words," said +Williams; "so, as the song says, 'Come, let us be happy together.' Will +you come into the King's Head, and take a glass of wine on the strength +of it?" + +"No, thank you," said George; "but as it is no wish of mine to live at +loggerheads with any one, here is my hand upon it." + +And then they shook hands, and so the matter ended. But it ended only so +far as Williams was concerned. A day or two afterwards Mr. Brunton was +passing the office, and he called in to say "How d'ye do?" to Mr. +Compton. In the course of conversation he asked how George was getting +on, and whether he continued to give satisfaction. + +"Yes," said Mr. Compton, "I have no fault to find with him; on the +contrary, he is the best junior clerk I ever had, and I trust him with +matters I never placed in the hands of a junior clerk before. But there +was an unfortunate occurrence the other day, which I think it right to +mention to you confidentially." And then Mr. Brunton heard the whole +history of the theatre adventure, and its consequences in the office on +the following morning. He was grieved, deeply grieved. At first he could +not credit the account; but when he heard that George had himself +confessed to the truth of the circumstances before Mr. Compton, and +there was no longer room to doubt, a tear stood in his eye as he thought +of his nephew--that noble, manly boy, whom he loved with all the +affection of a father--stooping to temptation, and acting the part of a +deceiver; for Mr. Brunton had spent an evening with Mrs. Weston and +George, and had heard nothing of his having been to a theatre, nor did +he believe Mrs. Weston was aware of it. + +"What I have told you is strictly confidential," said Mr. Compton; "but +as you are, as it were, the father of George Weston, I thought it only +right that you should know this, in order that you may warn him, if he +has got into the hands of bad companions." + +George was absent from the office during the interview, and did not know +until some days afterwards of his uncle's visit. + +Mr. Brunton went from Falcon-court a sadder man. He was perplexed and +harassed; he could not conscientiously tell Mrs. Weston, as he had +received the information in confidence; he could not speak directly to +George upon the subject, because he would at once have known that Mr. +Compton must have given the statement to his uncle. He was obliged, +therefore, to remain passive in the matter for a day or two, and +resolved to spend an evening that week at Islington. + +In the meantime the affair became known to Mrs. Weston, and in rather a +curious manner. George had worn his best coat on the evening he went to +the theatre; and one day as Mrs. Weston, according to custom, was +brushing it, before putting it away in his drawers, she turned out the +pockets, and, amongst other things, drew forth a well-used play-bill. + +"George has never been to the theatre, surely?" she asked herself. +"Impossible! he would have told me had he done so, for he is far too +high-principled to deceive me." + +But the sight of that play-bill worried Mrs. Weston. She thought over it +all day, and longed for the evening to come, when she might ask George +about it. + +That evening Mr. Brunton had determined to spend at Islington; and as he +was passing Falcon-court, he called for George on his way, and they +walked home together. + +The play-bill happened to be on the table when they entered, and it +caught the eye of both George and Mr. Brunton at once. + +"Where did you get that from?" asked George, colouring, not with the +honest flush of self-respect, but with the burning sense of deceit +detected. + +"I found it in your pocket, George; and as I have never found one there +before, I thought I would leave it out, to ask you how you came by it." + +"I came by it the other night, when I went to the theatre," said George; +for he could not tell a direct falsehood. "I did not tell you of it at +the time, but led you to suppose that I had been at the institution." + +Mrs. Weston was indeed sorry to hear George's account of what had +passed; but Mr. Brunton felt all his old confidence in George restored +by the open, genuine statement he made. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton, "I know you are old enough to manage your +affairs for yourself, without an uncle's interference, but do take from +me one word of caution. I fear you may be led unwittingly into error by +your associates. Do be on your guard--'if sinners entice thee, consent +thou not.' If you feel it right, and can conscientiously go with them +and adopt their habits, I have no right, nor should I wish to advise +you; but if you feel that you are wrong in what you do, listen to the +voice of your better self, and pause to consider. Do not turn a deaf +ear to its entreaties, but be admonished by its counsel, and rather +sacrifice friends and pleasure than that best of all enjoyments--the +satisfaction of acting a part of duty to God and yourself." + +George did not argue the point with his uncle; he felt himself in the +wrong, but could not see his way clear to get right again. + +"I have made so many resolves in my short life," he said, "and have +broken them so often, that I will not pledge myself to making fresh ones +My error, in this instance, has not been the fault of my companionships, +but entirely my own; and, as far as I can see, the chief blame lies in +having concealed the matter from my mother, which I did principally out +of kindness to her. But I will endeavour to take your counsel, uncle." + +Weeks passed away, and with them the vivid memories of that time. George +had at length reasoned himself into the idea that a great deal of +unnecessary fuss had been made about nothing, and instead of weaning +himself from the society of Ashton, they became more than ever thrown +into each other's company. George was a constant attendant at the +institution, where he was surrounded by a large circle of intimate +acquaintances, with whom much of his time was spent. In the office he +had risen in the estimation of the clerks. Williams and Lawson, finding +that opposition was unavailing, altered their conduct towards him, and +became as civil and obliging as they had before been insulting and +disagreeable. George began to think he had belied their characters from +not having known sufficient of them; and instead of shunning them, as he +had hitherto done, sometimes took a stroll with them in the evening +after office hours, and once or twice had dined with them at the King's +Head. + +Imperceptibly, George began to alter. Sooner or later, evil +communications must corrupt good manners; and from continually beholding +the lives of his companions, without possessing that one thing needful +to have kept him free from the entanglement of their devices, he became +changed into the same image, by the dangerous power of their influence +and example. + +A month or two after the theatre adventure, Mrs. Weston received an +invitation to spend a week or two in the country with some relatives, +whom she had not seen for several years. Mr. Brunton persuaded her to +accept it, as the change would be beneficial; and George, knowing how +seldom his mother had an opportunity for recreation, added all his +powers of argument to induce her to go. The only obstacle presenting +itself was the management of the house during her absence. Mr. Brunton +invited George to stay with him while Mrs. Weston would be away; and she +did not like to leave her servant alone in the house with the boarders. +It was at last arranged that George should decline Mr. Brunton's +invitation, and have the oversight of the house during his mother's +absence. + +The first night after her departure, George brought Hardy home with him +to spend the evening, and a pleasant, quiet time they had together. + +"It will be rather dull for you, George," said Hardy, "if Mrs. Weston is +going to remain away for a few weeks. What shall you do on Sunday? You +had better come and spend the day with us." + +"No, I cannot do that, because I promised I would be here, to let the +servant have an opportunity of going to church. But I mean to ask Ashton +to come and spend the day here, and you will come too; and there's +Dixon, he is a nice fellow, I'll ask him to come as well." + +"What is to be the programme for the day?" said Hardy. "Of course it +will be a quiet one." + +"We will all go to church or chapel in the morning, spend the afternoon +together at home, and take a stroll in the evening after the service. +Are you agreed?" + +"I think we shall have a very nice day of it. Let the other chaps know +of it early, and we will meet here in good time in the morning." + +Sunday came, and George's friends arrived as he expected. They were +early, and had time for a chat before starting out. + +"Where shall we go this morning?" asked George. "There is a very good +minister close by at the church, and another equally good at the chapel. +My principles are unsectarian, and I do not mind where it is we go." + +"Don't you think," said Dixon, "we might do ourselves more good by +taking a stroll a few miles out of town, and talking out a sermon for +ourselves?" + +"I am inclined to the belief that nature is the best preacher," Ashton +remarked. "We hear good sermons from the pulpit, it is true; but words +are poor things to teach us of the Creator, in comparison with +creation." + +"I do not agree with you in your religious sentiments, Ashton, as you +know," said George. "Creation tells us nothing about our Saviour, and, +as I read the Scriptures, no man can know God, the Father and Great +Creator, but through Him." + +"And yet, if I remember rightly, the Saviour said that He made the +world, and without Him was not anything made that was made--so that He +was the Creator; and when we look from nature up to nature's God we see +Him, and connecting His history with the world around us, we have in +creation, as I said before, the best sermon; aye, and what the parsons +call a 'gospel' sermon, too." + +"I agree with you," said Dixon; "preaching is all very well in its way, +and I like a good sermon; but the words of man can never excel the works +of God." + +"A proper sermon," replied George, "is not uttered in the words of man; +they are God's words applied and expounded. Nature may speak to the +senses, but the Scriptures alone speak to the heart; and that is the +object of preaching. But you are my visitors, and you shall decide the +point." + +"Then I say a stroll," said Ashton. + +"And so do I," chimed in Dixon. + +"I am for going to a place of worship," said Hardy. + +"And so am I," Ashton replied; "is not all God's universe a place of +worship?" + +"Perhaps so," answered Hardy; "but I mean the appointed and proper +place, where those who try to keep holy the Sabbath day are accustomed +to meet--a church or chapel." + +"I side with Hardy," said George. "But I am willing to meet you halfway. +If I go with you this morning, you must all promise to go with me in the +evening. But bear in mind I am making a concession, and I go for a +stroll under protest, because it is contrary to my custom." + +"All right, old chap," said Ashton. "I never knew anybody's conscience +fit them so uneasily as yours does. But it always did; at school, you +were a martyr to it, and I believe the blame lies at the door of dear +old Dr. Seaward, who persisted in training us up in the way we should +go, just as if we were all designed to be parsons." + +"Poor old Dr. Seaward!" said George. "If he only knew two of his old +scholars were going out for a stroll on Sunday morning to hear nature +preach, I believe his body would hardly contain his troubled spirit." + +"And he would appear before us to stop us on our way--" + +"Like the spirit before Balaam and his ass, seems the most appropriate +simile," said Dixon, "for, if I recollect rightly, Balaam was going +where he should not have gone, and his conscience gave him as much +trouble as Weston's does." + +George did not think and say, as Balaam did, "I have sinned;" but he +felt the sting of ridicule, and determined he would allow no +conscientious scruple to bring it upon him again during that day. + +"After all," he argued with himself, "what is the use of my being +conscientious, for I am so wretchedly inconsistent? I had better go all +one way, or all the other, instead of wavering between the two, and +perpetually showing my weakness." + +It would have puzzled any one to have told what sermon nature preached +to that merry party, as they wandered through green fields and quiet +lanes, talking upon a hundred different subjects, and making the calm +Sabbath morn ring with the strains of their laughter. + +"Your idea of creation's voice is better in theory than in practice," +George said, when they returned home. "Can any of you tell me what the +text was which nature took to preach from, for I have no distinct +remembrance of it?" + +"The text seemed to me to be this," said Dixon, "that 'to everything +there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens--a time +to weep and a time to laugh--a time to keep silence and a time to +speak;' and the application was, that we had chosen the right time for +enjoying much speaking and much laughing." + +The afternoon was not spent as George had been accustomed to spend it. +Light, frivolous conversation, and still more dangerous debate upon +religious subjects, without religious feeling, occupied the time, and +George felt glad when the evening came, and they started off together to +hear a popular preacher, whose merits they had been discussing during +the afternoon. + +On their way thither they passed a large building, into which several +people were entering, and as the outside of the place was ornamented +with handbills, they paused to read them. They ran thus:-- + + "HALL OF SCIENCE.--A Lecture will be delivered in this Hall on + Sunday evening, at half past six, by Professor Martin, on 'The Uses + of Reason.' Young men are cordially invited to attend. + + "What is truth? Search and see." + +"Do you know anything of this Professor Martin?" asked Dixon. "Is he +worth hearing?" + +"A friend of mine told me he had heard him, a little while ago, and was +never better pleased with any lecture," Ashton answered. "Shall we put +up here for the evening?" + +"Is he a preacher, or a mere lecturer?" asked George. The question +attracted the attention of a person entering the Hall; and, turning to +George, he answered:-- + +"Professor Martin is one of those best of all preachers. He can interest +without sending you to sleep, and his discourses are full of sound +wisdom. He is a lover of truth, and advocates the only way to arrive at +it, which is by unfettered thought. In his lectures he puts his theory +into practice by freely expressing his unfettered thoughts. I have seats +in the front of the lecture-room; if you will favour me by accepting +them, they are at your service." + +The plausible and polite manner of the stranger was effectual with +George. + +"I don't think we can do better than go in and hear what the lecturer +has to say," he said to the others. And, assent being given, they +followed the stranger, and were conducted to the proffered seats. + +The audience consisted principally of men, the majority of whom were +young and of an inferior class, such as shopmen and mechanics. There was +a large platform, with chairs upon it, but no pulpit or reading-desk. +When the lecturer, accompanied by a chairman and some friends, entered, +George and his companions were surprised to hear a clapping of hands and +stamping of feet, similar to the plan adopted at public amusements. + +"This does not seem much like a Sunday evening service," said George. +"We have time to leave, if you like; or shall we stay and see it out?" + +"Oh! let us stay," replied the others. + +No hymn was sung, no prayer was offered at the commencement, but the +lecturer, with a pocket Bible in his hands, quoted a few passages of +Scripture, as follows:-- + +"Come now, and let us reason together,"--Isa. i. 18; "I applied mine +heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, and to know the +reason of things,"--Eccles. vii. 25; "And Paul, as his manner was, went +in unto them, and three Sabbath days reasoned with them out of the +Scriptures,"--Acts xvii. 2; "Be ready alway to give an answer to every +man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,"--1 Peter iii. +15. + +The object of the lecturer was to show that no intelligent being could +receive truth unless that truth commended itself to reason, because the +two were never in opposition one with the other. Conscience, he said, +was the soul's safeguard, and reason the safeguard of the heart and +intellect. It was irrational to condemn any course of conduct which +conscience approved, and it was equally irrational to believe anything +that could not be understood. The Word of God might be useful in its +way, but only as studied with unfettered thought. If that Word exalted +reason and then taught inconsistencies and absurdities, reason must +discriminate between the right and the wrong. "For example," he +continued, "if that book tells me that there are three Gods, and yet +those three are one, I reason by analogy and say, here are three +fingers; each one has its particular office; but I cannot make these +three fingers one finger, neither can I make three Gods one God." + +So the lecturer continued, but he did not put his case in so many plain +words as these; every argument he clothed with doubtful words, so as to +make falsehood look like truth, and blasphemy like worship. He was an +educated and intelligent man, gifted with that dangerous power of +preaching the doctrine of devils in the guise of an angel of light, and +handling deadly sophistry with as firm a grasp as if it were the sword +of the Spirit. + +At the conclusion of the lecture he announced his intention to speak +from that platform again on the following Sunday, and invited all who +were inquiring the way of truth to be present, and judge what he said, +"whether it be right, or whether it be wrong." + +As George and his friends were leaving the hall, the stranger, who had +accosted them before, came up, and bowing politely said-- + +"Will you allow me to offer you the same seats, for next Sunday evening? +If you will say yes, I will reserve them for you; otherwise you may have +difficulty in obtaining admission, for the room will, in all +probability, be more crowded than to-night, as Professor Martin was not +announced to lecture until late in the week, and the friends who +frequent the Hall had no notice of his being here." + +"I will certainly come," said Ashton. "I never heard a speaker I liked +better. What say you?" he asked, turning to the others. + +"I am anxious to hear the conclusion of the argument," said George; "so +we will accept your invitation," he added to the stranger, "and thank +you for your kindness and courtesy." + +It was a long conversation the friends had as they strolled along that +evening. To George every argument the lecturer had brought forward was +new; and bearing, as they did, the apparent stamp of truth, he was +utterly confounded. Although he was a good biblical scholar, as regarded +the historical and narrative parts of the Scriptures, he was but ill +informed on those more subtle points which the lecturer handled. He had +never heard the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, disputed, and had +always implicitly believed it; now, when the lecturer quoted Scripture +to prove that truth was to be analysed by reason, and reason rejected +the idea of a Trinity, he was as unable to reconcile the two as if he +had never received any religious instruction at all. + +"If what he advances be true," said George, "how irrational many things +in the Christian religion are! And how singular that men like him, who +'search into the reason of things' for wisdom, and hold opinions +contrary to the orthodox notions of those whom we call Christians, +should be looked upon with suspicion and distrust." + +"No," replied Ashton; "he met that idea by saying that it was not more +than singular, in the early stages of science, for people to be burnt as +witches and magicians, because they made discoveries which are now +developed and brought into daily use, than it is now for men to be +scouted as infidel and profane, because they teach opinions which only +require investigation to make them universally admitted." + +An unhappy day was that Sunday for George Weston. He had violated +principle, made concessions against the dictates of conscience (how poor +a safeguard for him!) and had learnt lessons which taught him to despise +those instructions which had hitherto been as a lamp unto his feet and a +light unto his path. + +"Blessed is the man that _walketh_ not in the counsel of the ungodly, +nor _standeth_ in the way of sinners, nor _sitteth_ in the seat of the +scornful." George little thought how rapidly he was passing through +those different stages on the downward road. Had he never listened to +the council of the ungodly, he would not have walked in the way of evil, +but would have avoided even its very appearance; he would not have stood +in the way of sinners, parleying with temptations, as he had done on so +many occasions; nor would he have occupied that most dangerous of all +positions, the fatal ease of sitting in the seat of the scornful. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +GETTING ON IN THE WORLD. + + +"Mr. Compton wishes to speak with you, Weston," said Mr. Sanders, the +manager, to George one morning, during the visit of Mrs. Weston in the +country. + +"Good morning, Weston," said Mr. Compton; "I want to have a few minutes' +conversation with you: sit down. You have been in my office now more +than a twelvemonth, and I promised that you should have an increased +salary at the expiration of that time. Your services have been very +valuable to me during the past year, and I am in every way satisfied +with you. As a tangible proof of this, I beg your acceptance of this +little present," (handing him a ten-pound note,) "and during this year +on which you have entered, I shall have much pleasure in giving you a +salary of two guineas a week." + +"I am exceedingly obliged to you sir," George stammered out, for he was +flabbergasted at the kindness of his employer; "I hope I may always +continue to do my duty in your office, and deserve your approbation." + +"I hope so, too;" said Mr. Compton, "both for your sake and for my own. +If you continue as you have begun, there is a fair field before you, and +I will advance you as opportunity occurs. Now, apart from business, I +want one word with you. I kept you purposely last year upon a low +salary, because I have found that sometimes it is beneficial to young +men to have only a small income. With your increased salary, you will +have increased means for entering that style of life which is, +unfortunately, too universal with young men--I mean the gaieties and +dissipations of a London life are now more open to you than they were +before. But what is termed a 'fast' young man never makes a good clerk, +and I do hope you will not allow yourself to fail into habits which will +be obstacles to your future promotion." + +"I will endeavour, sir, always to maintain my position in your office," +said George; "and I feel very grateful to you for the interest you take +in my personal welfare." + +George was in high spirits with his good fortune. He had not expected +more than a guinea, or at the utmost thirty shillings a week increase +for his second year, and had never dreamt of receiving so handsome a +present as £10. By that night's post he sent off a long letter to his +mother, giving her an account of the interview, and of his future +prospects. + +But George had different ideas about his future now, to those he +cherished a twelvemonth back. Then he thought only of himself and his +mother; how happy they would be together, and how much he would +endeavour to contribute to her enjoyment. Now he congratulated himself +that he would be upon a footing with his friends, that he could do as +they did, and that he had the means to follow up those recreations which +were becoming habitual to him. For since Mrs. Weston had been away, +George had gone step by step further on unhallowed ground. Even Ashton +said, "Weston, you are coming it pretty strong, old fellow!" and Hardy +had declared that he could not keep pace with him. Night after night, as +he had no one at home to claim his presence there, he had been to +theatres and other places of amusement. Sunday after Sunday he had +attended the lectures at the Hall of Science, and abandoning himself to +the tide which was hurrying him along, he floated down the dangerous +stream. + +The principles of infidelity which had been inculcated, appealed to him +with a voice so loud as to drown the appeals from a higher source. The +one approved his conduct, the other condemned it--the one pointed to the +world as a scene of enjoyment, the other as at enmity with God. George +felt that if he would hold one he must resign the other. He had not that +moral courage, or rather he had not the deep-rooted conviction of sin, +or the earnest love and fear of God, to enable him to burst through the +entanglements of the world and the world's god, and choosing whom he +would serve: he loved darkness rather than light. + +When Mrs. Weston returned, after a month's absence, she could not but +observe an alteration in George. Although he never told her of his +attendance at the lectures on Sunday, or the arguments he had had with +friends who held infidel opinions, she soon perceived that George's +feelings were undergoing a rapid and dangerous change. Those subjects on +which he was once in the habit of conversing with her, he now carefully +shunned. He was affectionate and kind to his mother still, and loved her +with all his old intense love, but that ingenuous confidence which he +had always reposed in her was gone. Things that were dear to him now he +could not discuss with her; instead of telling her how he spent his +time, and what were his amusements, he avoided any mention of them. The +deception which he first practised on that night when he yielded to +Ashton's persuasion, was now a system. He reasoned the matter over with +himself: there could be no good in telling her; their opinions were +different; he would take his course, independently of hers. + +Uncle Brunton noticed the change; for to those who saw him seldom the +change was sudden. But to George, every day there seemed an epoch, and +he was unconscious of the rapidity with which old associations and ideas +cherished from childhood were thrown down and trampled upon by the new +feelings which had taken possession of him. + +"George," said Mr. Brunton to him one day, "I am growing uneasy about +you. I feel that I am not the same to you, nor you to me, we used to be, +only a few months back. I cannot tell the reason--cannot tell when the +difference commenced or how--but for some months past--ever since your +mother's visit to the country--there has been a want of that old +confidential, affectionate intercourse between us there used to be." + +"I was younger then," said George, "and the freshness of youthful +feeling and attachment may die away as we advance in years; but I am not +aware that I have ever given you occasion to say I do not love you +sincerely still, uncle. Your kindness to me never can, and never will be +forgotten." + +"Well, George, I cannot explain what I mean. I have a kind of feeling +about you that something is wrong which I cannot put into words. I fancy +that if I offer you a word of counsel, you do not receive it as you once +did; if I talk seriously with you, it does not make the same impression, +or touch the spring of the same feelings. You do not talk to me with the +old frankness and candour which made my heart leap, when I thanked God I +had got some one in the world to love, and who loved me. But perhaps I +wrong you, and expect too much from you." + +"No, not that, uncle. Frankness, candour, and love are due to you, and +while I have them they shall always be yours; and to prove it, I will +tell what I have never told any one before, what I have hardly spoken to +my own heart. I think of the George Weston you brought away from Dr. +Seaward's, who stood with you beside a father's deathbed, and who, +eighteen months ago, went into Mr. Compton's office; then I think of +George Weston of to-day, and I feel amazed at the change a few years has +made. I have asked myself a hundred times, am I really the same? Oh, +uncle! you do not know what I would give to be that boy again--to live +once more in that old world of sunshine." + +Tears started to George's eyes as he spoke, and Mr. Brunton could only +squeeze his hand, and say, "God bless you, my boy! God bless you!" + +A few days later Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston were one whole evening +together talking about George. Both hearts were heavy, but Mr. Brunton's +was the lighter of the two. + +"I tell you what I think will be the very best thing for you and for +George," he said, "It is now the early spring, and the country is +beginning to look fresh and green. Leave this house and take one in the +country. I think George can easily be made to accede to this +proposition--he was always fond of country life and recreations. He can +have a season ticket on the railway, and come down every night. This +will wean him from his associates, and induce him to keep earlier hours, +and give us, too, a better opportunity to lure him back to his old +habits of life." + +The arrangements were made. Mrs. Weston, with that loving self-denial +which only a mother can exercise, gave up the house, and her circle of +friends, and took up her residence in the country, about twenty miles +from London. George was pleased with the change, and acquiesced in all +the plans which were made. + +About this time, an event happened of considerable importance in the +family history. An old relative of Mrs. Weston's, from whom she had +monetary expectations, died; and upon examination of the will, it was +found that a legacy had been left her of about three thousand pounds, +which was safely invested, and would bring to her an income of nearly a +hundred and fifty pounds a year. + +This was a cause of fear and rejoicing to Mrs. Weston--fear, lest it +should be a snare to George, as he would now have the whole of his +salary at his own disposal, there being no longer any necessity for her +to share it; rejoicing, that she should be able to give him that start +in life which had always been the desire and ambition of Mr. Weston. + +A few months' trial of Mr. Brunton's plan for weaning George from the +allurements of society in London, by taking a house in the country, +proved it to be a failure. For the first month, George went down almost +immediately after leaving business, but it was only for the first month. +Gradually it became later and later, until the last train was generally +the one by which he travelled. Then it sometimes occurred that he lost +the last train, and was obliged to stay at an hotel in town for the +night. At length, this occurred so frequently, that sometimes for three +nights out of the week he never went home at all. On one of these +occasions, a party of gentlemen in the commercial room of the hotel +where he was staying proposed a game of cards, and asked George to make +one at a rubber of whist. George had often played with his own friends, +but never before with total strangers. However, without any hesitation, +he accepted the invitation, and yielded to the proposition that they +should play sixpenny points. The game proceeded, rubber after rubber was +lost and won, and when George rose from the card-table at a late hour he +was loser to the amount of thirty shillings. + +"There is no playing against good cards," said George; "and the run of +luck has been in your favour to-night; but I will challenge you to +another game to-morrow evening, if you will be here?" + +The next night George played again, and won back a pound of the money +he had lost on the preceding evening. This was encouraging. "One more +trial," said George to himself, "and nobody will catch me card-playing +for money again with strangers." But that one more trial was the worst +of all. George lost three pounds! He could ill afford it; as it was he +was living at the very extent of his income, and three pounds was a +large sum. He was obliged to give an I O U for the amount, and in the +meantime borrow the sum from one of his friends. + +"Hardy, have you got three pounds to lend me?" he asked, next morning; +"you shall have it again to-morrow." + +"I have not got that sum with me," said Hardy, "but I can get it for +you. Is it pressing?" + +"Yes; I had a hand at cards last night, and lost." + +"What! with Ashton?" + +"No; with some strangers at the hotel where I have hung out for the last +night or two." + +"You shall have that sum early this evening, George; and twice that +amount, if you will make me one promise. I ask it as an old friend, who +has a right to beg a favour. Give up card-playing, don't try to win back +what you have lost; no good can possibly come of it" + +"Is Saul among the prophets?" asked George, with something like a +sneer. + +"No, George Weston: but a looker-on at chess sees more of the game than +the player; and I have been looking at your last few moves in the game +of life, without taking part with you, and I see you will be checkmated +soon, if you do not alter your tactics. I can't blame you, nor do I wish +to, if I could; but when I first heard you had taken to card playing, I +did feel myself among the prophets then, and prophesied no good would +come of it." + +"When you first heard of my card playing?" asked George. "When did you +hear of it?" + +"A few days since. My father came up from the country by a late train +one night, and stayed at the hotel you patronize. There he saw you, and +told me about it." + +"Confound it! a fellow can't do a thing, even in this great city, +without somebody ferretting it out. But I don't mean to play again. I +have made a fool of myself too many times already; and it serves me +right that I have lost money." + +That evening, while George was making his way to the hotel, a lady was +journeying towards the railway station. An hour later, she was at the +house of Mrs. Weston, and was shown into the drawing-room. + +"I must apologise," said Mrs. Hardy, for it was she, "in calling upon +you at this hour: but I am very anxious to have some conversation with +you." + +"It is strange," said Mrs. Weston, "that as our sons have been intimate +so long, we should have continued strangers; but I am very delighted to +see you, Mrs. Hardy, for I have heard much of you." + +"It is with regard to the intercourse between your son and mine that I +have called. I do not wish to alarm you; but I feel it right that you +should be in possession of information I have of your son." + +Mrs. Hardy then narrated the circumstances connected with her husband's +visit to the hotel on the evening when he found George there card +playing. + +"This evening," she continued, "my son returned home earlier than usual, +and went to his drawer, where I saw him take out some money--two or +three sovereigns. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and after +some difficulty I ascertained he intended lending it to your son. It +occurred to me at once that George Weston was in trouble with those men; +and I thought it only right that you should know." + +It was kind of Mrs. Hardy to shew this interest, and Mrs. Weston +esteemed her for it. But had they stood beside the table at which George +was seated while they were talking, or could they have seen the flush of +excitement as he threw down the cards, exclaiming, "By Jove! I've lost +again!" and have watched the flashing eye and heaving breast, they would +have felt, even more keenly than they did, how futile were words or +sympathies to check the evil. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP. + + +We pass over two years of George Weston's life--years full of strange +experiences--and look into the office in Falcon-court one morning in the +summer of 18--. + +Mr. Compton is away on the Continent for a holiday tour, Mr. Sanders is +still the manager, and nearly all the same old faces are in the office. +George, who is now verging on the legal age of manhood, has risen to a +good position in the establishment, and is regarded as second only to +Mr. Sanders. He is wonderfully altered from when we saw him first in +that office. He is still handsome; but the old sparkling lustre of his +eye has gone, and no trace of boyishness is left. + +Hardy is still there. Two years have not made so much difference in him +as George. He looks older than he really is; but there is no mistaking +him for the quiet, gentlemanly Charles Hardy of former days. Lawson and +Williams are there, coarse and bloated young men, whose faces tell the +history of their lives. Hardy rarely exchanges a word with them. George +does more frequently, but not with the air of superiority he once did. + +A close observer would have noticed in George that morning a careworn +anxious look; would have heard an occasional sigh, and have seen him at +one time turning pale, and again flushing with a crimson red. + +"You are not well," said Hardy. "You have not done a stroke of work all +this morning; quite an unusual thing for you, George." + +"I am not well," he replied; "but it is nothing of importance. I shall +get Mr. Sanders to let me off for an hour's stroll when he comes in from +the Bank." + +Mr. Sanders came in from the Bank, but he was later than usual. His +round generally occupied an hour; this morning he had been gone between +two and three. George watched him anxiously as he took off his hat, +rubbed his nose violently with his pocket handkerchief, and stood gazing +into the fire, ejaculating every now and then, as was his custom if +anything extraordinary or disagreeable had happened, "Ah! umph!" + +"The old boy has found out that the wind has veered to the northeast, +or has stepped upon some orange peel," whispered Lawson to Williams, who +saw that something had gone wrong with the manager. + +"Your proposed stroll will be knocked on the head," said Hardy to +George. "Mr. Sanders is evidently in an ill humour." + +"I shall not trouble him about it," said George; "shirking work always +worries him, and he seems to be worried enough as it is." + +When Mr. Sanders had gazed in the fire for half an hour, and had walked +once or twice up and down the office, as his manner was on such +occasions, he turned to George and said, "I want to speak with you in +the next room." + +"I wish you a benefit, Weston," said Williams as he passed. "Recommend +him a day or two in the country, for the good of his health and our +happiness." + +"Mr. Weston," said the manager, when George had shut the door and seated +himself, "I am in great difficulties. This event has happened at a most +unfortunate time, Mr. Compton is away, and I don't know how to act for +the best. Will you give me your assistance in the matter?" + +"Cannot you make the accounts right, sir?" asked George. "I thought you +had satisfactorily arranged them last night." + +"No, Weston; I have been through them over and over again, but I cannot +get any nearer to a balance. I have been round to the Bank this morning +again, and have seen Mr. Smith about it, but he cannot assist me. +However, inquiries will be made this afternoon, and all our accounts +carefully checked and examined; in the meantime, I wish you would have +out the books and go through them for me. Hardy can assist you, if you +like." + +"I will do all I can for you, to make this matter right," said George; +"but I can do it better alone. If you will give Hardy the job I was +about, I will check the books here by myself." + +All that afternoon George sat alone in Mr. Compton's room surrounded +with books and papers. But he did not examine them. Resting his head +upon his hands, he looked upon them and sighed. Now the perspiration +stood in big drops upon his forehead and his hands trembled. Then he +would walk up and down the room, halting to take deep draughts of water +from a bottle on the table. + +Mr. Sanders occasionally looked in to ask how he was going on, and if he +had discovered the error. + +"No," said George; "the accounts seem right; but I cannot make them +agree with the cash-book. There is still a hundred pounds short; but I +will go through them again if you like." + +"Perhaps you had better. I expect Mr. Smith here by six o'clock; will +you remain with me and see him? He may assist us." + +"Certainly," said George; "I feel as anxious as you do about the matter, +for all the bills and cheques have passed through my hands as well as +yours; and I shall not rest easy until the missing amount is +discovered." + +Mr. Smith arrived just as the clerks were leaving the office, and Mr. +Sanders and George were alone with him. + +"Well," said Mr. Smith, "we have gone carefully over every item to-day, +and at last the defalcation is seen. This cheque," he continued, +producing the document, "is forged. The signature is unquestionably Mr. +Compton's, but the rest of the writing is counterfeit." + +"A forged cheque!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, aghast; "impossible!" + +"There must be some mistake here," said George, "the accounts in our +books, if I recollect rightly, correspond with the cheques; but--" + +"It is a clumsily arranged affair, although the forgery is a +masterpiece of penmanship," said Mr. Smith; "and if it passes first +through your office, and is entered in your books with the false amount, +it is clear that some one in your employ has committed the offence. I +leave the matter now with you for the present," he added, to Mr. +Sanders; "of course you will put the case at once into the proper medium +and find out the offender." + +When Mr. Smith had gone, George sat down again in the seat he had +occupied during that long afternoon, pale and exhausted. + +"This is a lamentable business," said Mr. Sanders, pacing the room, "a +lamentable business, indeed! I confess I am completely baffled. Mr. +Weston, I look to you for assistance. Can you form any idea how this +matter has come about? Have you suspicion of any of the clerks?" + +"I am equally at a loss with you how to manage in this case. I have no +reason to doubt the integrity of any one in this office. Except one," +said George, as if a sudden idea had come to his mind. "Yes, I have a +suspicion of one; but I cannot tell even you who it is, until I have +made inquiries sufficient to warrant the suspicion. Can you let the +affair rest over to-night, and in the meantime I will do what I can, and +confer with you in the morning." + +"That seems the only plan," answered Mr. Sanders. "If I can render any +assistance in making these inquiries, I will." + +"No, thank you, you will have trouble enough in the matter as it is; and +I can do what I have to do better alone." + +Half an hour after this conversation, a cab was travelling at the utmost +speed along the Clapham road. It stopped at the house of Harry Ashton, +and George alighted. + +"Ashton," said he, "I want to speak to you for two minutes. I have got +into trouble; don't ask me how, or in what way. Unless I can borrow a +hundred pounds to-night, I am ruined. Can you get it for me?" + +"My dear George, sit down and calm yourself, and we will talk the matter +over," said Ashton. "It strikes me you are up to some joke, or you would +never suppose that I, an assistant surveyor with a present limited +income, could fork out a hundred pounds down as a hammer. + +"I am not joking. I dare not explain more. I require your confidence for +what I have already said; but I know you have money, and moneyed +friends. Can you get it for me anyhow, from anywhere?" + +"No, I cannot, and that's plump," answered Ashton; "it is the end of the +quarter, and I have not more than ten pounds in my pocket You are +welcome to that, if it is any good; but I cannot go into the country to +my father's to-night, that is very certain; and if I could, he would not +advance so much without knowing exactly what it was for; nor should I +care to lend that sum, even to you, George, unless I knew what you were +going to do with it, and when I should see it back. If it is so +pressing, you might have my ten, ten more from Dixon, and I could get a +pound or two from other sources." + +"No, that would take too long, and I have but an hour or two to make the +arrangements." As he spoke, George fell into a chair, and buried his +face in his hands. + +"What, George, my old pippin, what is the matter?" said Ashton, going to +him. "You have lost at cards again, I suppose: but take heart, man, +never get out of pluck for such a thing as that. But you are ill, I know +you are, you are as white as a sheet. Here, take tins glass of brandy." + +"I only feel faint." said George, rising. "I shall be all right when I +get out into the open air. Good-bye, Ashton, my old school-chum, we +shall never meet again after to-night; but I shan't forget our happy +days together--I mean the days at Dr. Seaward's--they were the happy +ones, after all." + +"George, you are ill, and your brain is touched. Not meet again after +to-night? Nonsense, we don't part so easily, if that is the case;" and +Ashton locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. + +"Unfasten that door!" almost shouted George; "you do not know my +strength at this moment, and I might do you some harm; but I should not +like to part with my oldest friend like that. Open the door!" + +"Not a bit of it," answered Ashton. "Tell me more particulars, and I +will try what I can do in getting the money." + +"No; you have told me you cannot. I have one more chance elsewhere; let +me try that. Ashton, do not be a fool; open that door, and let me go." + +"Then I will go with you," answered Ashton; and he unlocked the door. +But while he turned to get his hat, George rushed from the room, opened +the hall-door, and, closing it again upon Ashton, jumped into the cab +awaiting him, and giving the word, "Islington, quick!" drove off, +leaving his friend in the road, running after the vehicle, and calling +upon the driver to stop. + +"Don't mind him," George called to the man; "an extra five shillings for +driving quickly." + +Ashton was at his wit's end. He ran on, till he could run no longer. +Just then, an empty cab passing, he hailed the driver. + +"Drive after that cab in front," said Ashton, as he got in; "follow it +wherever it goes. Sharp's the word, man!" + +It was a long time before the traffic in the roads allowed Ashton's cab +to overtake the one ahead; but both came up nearly abreast in the +Waterloo road, and then the one he was pursuing turned abruptly towards +the railway station. + +"Ah! George, my old fellow," said Ashton to himself, "you little think I +have been so closely on your scent; but I knew I had not seen the last +of you." + +Both cabs drew up at the station steps together. Ashton jumped out, and +ran to meet George; but blank was his astonishment to see an oldish lady +and her attendant alight from the vehicle, which he had imagined +contained his friend! + +We will leave Ashton at the Waterloo station in a mortified and +disconsolate state, quarrelling with the driver for having pursued the +wrong cab, and follow George Weston to Islington. + +"Hardy," he said, as soon as he found himself alone with his friend, +"are you willing to help me, to save me, perhaps, from ruin? I want to +raise a hundred pounds to-night. I must have it. Do you think you can get +it for me?" + +"Me get a hundred pounds? Why, George, my friend, you know the thing is +a clear impossibility. I could not get it, if it were to save my own +life. But why is it so urgent?" he asked. + +"You will know in a day or two. I have now one resource left, and only +one. Will you go to-night to my uncle, Mr. Brunton. Tell him that I want +to save a friend from ruin, and want to borrow a hundred and fifty +pounds, which shall be faithfully repaid. Do not give him to understand +I want it for myself, but that it is for a friend dear to him and to me. +Use every argument you can, and above everything persuade him not to +make any inquiries about it at present. Say I shall have to take part of +it into the country to-morrow morning, and I will see him or write to him +in the evening. Say anything you like, so that you can get the money +for me, and prevent him coming to the office to-morrow morning." + +"George, I am afraid you have got into some bad business again," said +Hardy. "You know I am willing to help you; but I cannot do so, if it is +to encourage you in getting yourself into still greater trouble." + +"This is the last time, Hardy, I shall ever ask a favour of you. Do +assist me; you cannot guess the consequences if you do not." + +"Then tell me, George, what it is that is upsetting you. I never saw you +look so wild and excited before. You can confide in me, old fellow; we +have always kept each other's counsel." + +"To-morrow you shall know all. Now, do start off at once, and see what +you can do. If you cannot bring all the money, bring what you can. Put +the case urgently to my uncle; he cannot refuse me. I will be here again +in about three hours' time; it will not take you longer than that." + +Hardy took a cab, and drove off at once. George remained in the street; +he paced up and down, and took no rest--he was far too excited and +nervous for that. He had got a dangerous game to play, and his plans +were vague and shadowy. He had promised Mr. Sanders he would make +inquiries about the person he suspected had forged the cheque, and let +him know in the morning. His plan was to try and raise the money, pay it +to Mr. Sanders on account of the transgressor, and induce him to take no +further steps until Mr. Compton returned home. On no other ground would +he refund the money on behalf of the forger; and unless Mr. Sanders +would agree to these terms, George was determined the matter might take +its own way, and be placed in the hands of the magistrates or police. + +The hours seemed like days to George while Hardy was on his mission. At +length he returned. + +"What success?" asked George running to meet him as soon as he came in +view. + +"Your uncle is in a terrible state of alarm on your account," replied +Hardy, "and I fear he will be at the office some time to-morrow, although +I tried to persuade him not to do so, because it was no matter in which +you were so deeply interested as he supposed. But he cannot lend you the +money, nor can he get the amount you want until to-morrow afternoon. +However he had fifty pounds with him, and he has sent that." + +George took it eagerly. "My plan must fail," he said to Hardy; "but it +would only have been a question of time after all. Hardy, you will hear +strange reports of me after to-morrow; do not believe them all; remember +your old friend as you once knew him, not as report speaks of him. +Good-night, old fellow, you have been a good friend to me. I wish we +could have parted differently." + +"Parted!" ejaculated Hardy; "what do you mean? where are you going?" + +"I cannot tell, but I shall see you at the office to-morrow morning as +usual; I will tell you more then. Do not say a word to anybody about +what has occurred to-night. I know I may trust you; may I not?" + +"Yes, always," answered Hardy; "but I wish you would trust me a little +more, and let me share this trouble with you. We have been old friends +now for years, George; shared ups and downs, and joys and sorrows +together; been brothers in everything which concerned each other's +welfare: and now you are distressed, why not relieve yourself by letting +me bear part of it with you? Recollect our old and earliest days of +friendship, and show that they are still dear to you, as they are to me, +by telling me what has gone wrong with you, and how I can serve or +soothe you in the emergency." + +George could not bear this last touch of kindness. Had Hardy reproached +him for having acted foolishly, or warned him from getting into future +trouble; had he even accused him of having sought to lead others astray, +besides wandering in downward paths himself, George could have listened +calmly and unmoved! but this out-going of his friend's heart overcame +him, and he burst into tears. + +"Good night, Hardy," he said, wringing his friend's hand. "If a prayer +may come from my lips, so long unused to prayer, I say God bless you, +and preserve you from such a lot as mine." George could not utter +another word; he could only shake hands again, and then hurried away to +the hotel where he sometimes slept. + +It was past midnight when he arrived there. Calling for some spirits and +water, and writing materials, he seated himself dejectedly at a table +and wrote. The first letter ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAREST MOTHER, + + "I have some painful news to tell you--so painful that I would rather + you should have received intelligence of my death, than that which + this letter contains. I know you will not judge me harshly, dear + mother; I know you will stretch out to me your forgiveness, and + still pray for me that I may receive pardon from _your_ heavenly + Father--would I could say _mine_. + + "Step by step I have been going wrong, as you know--as I might have + known--and now I have sunk to the lowest depths, from which I shall + never rise again. Mother, I know the sorrow you will feel when you + hear what has happened. I grieve more for you than I do for myself; + I would give all the world, if I had it, to save your heart the + misery which awaits it, from the conduct of a worthless, rebellious + son. + + "I cannot bear to see that sorrow. My heart seems nearly broken as + it is, and it would quite break if I were to see you suffering as + you will suffer. + + "I could not bear to see again any whom I have known under other + circumstances. I could not bear to be taunted with all the + remembrances of the past. Dear mother, I have resolved to leave + you--leave London--perhaps leave England. I _may_ never see you + again; it is better for you that I never should. + + "My tears blind me as I write; if tears could cleanse the past, my + guilt would be soon removed. God bless you, dearest mother! I will + write to you again; and some day, after I have been into new scenes, + started anew in life, and won back again the character I have + lost--then, perhaps, I may once more see you again. + + "Uncle Brunton will tell you more. He will comfort you; he must be + husband, brother, and son to you now. + + "God bless you, my dearest mother! I have so wronged you, have been + such a continual trouble to you, instead of the comfort poor father + thought I should have been, and so unworthy of your love, that I + hardly dare hope you will forgive and forget the past, and still + pray for + + "Your erring Son-- + + "GEORGE WESTON." + +George then wrote two letters to Mr. Brunton. In one of them he thanked +him for all his care and kindness, passionately regretted the causes of +anxiety he had given him, and the disgrace which now attached to his +name. In the other, he begged the loan of the £50 sent to him through +Hardy, which, he said, he hoped to pay back in a few years. He also +requested that Mr. Brunton would arrange all his accounts, and pay them +either from his mother's income, or by advancing the money as a loan. + +When the morning dawned, it found George still writing. As the clock +struck seven, he packed up what few things he had with him, paid his +hotel bill, and drove off to Falcon-court. He was there by eight +o'clock, before any of the clerks had arrived. + +"Have the letters come?" he asked the housekeeper. + +"Yes, sir, they are in Mr. Compton's room," was the answer. + +George hastened into the room, looked through the packet, and alighting +upon a letter with a foreign post-mark addressed to Mr. Sanders in Mr. +Compton's handwriting, he broke the seal. The note was short, merely +saying that he had arrived in Paris, on his way home, and expected to be +back in a day or two; therefore any communications must be forwarded at +once, or he would have left Paris. + +George went direct to the Electric Telegraph Office. A form was handed +to him, on which the message he desired to send must be written, and he +filled it up thus:-- + + "_From Mr. Sanders to Mr. Compton_. + + "Come back at once. A cheque has been forged in your name for + _£100._ George Weston is the forger. It is a clear and aggravated + case. Shall he be arrested? Will you prosecute? Answer at once." + +In an incredibly short space of time an answer was returned. George was +at the Telegraph Office to receive it. + + "_From Mr. Compton to Mr. Sanders._ + + "I will return to-morrow. Take no steps in the matter; let it be + kept silent, I am deeply grieved, but I will not prosecute under any + circumstances." + +"Well, Mr. Weston," said Mr. Sanders, when George entered the office," +I expected you would have been here before; but I suppose you have had +some difficulty in your investigations?" + +"I have had difficulty," George answered. "I have been endeavouring to +borrow a hundred pounds to pay the deficiency, and then I would have +screened the forger; but my plan has failed, and it is better that it +should, because the innocent would have been sure to have suffered for +the guilty. I am now bound to tell you the name of the criminal upon his +own confession." + +"Who is it? who is it?" asked Mr. Sanders, eagerly. + +"I--George Weston," he answered. "No matter how I did it, or why; I +alone am guilty." + +Mr. Sanders caught hold of the back of a chair for support. His hands +trembled, and his voice failed him. + +"It is a shock to you, sir," said George; "and it will be a shock to Mr. +Compton. Give him this letter when he comes home, it will explain the +circumstances to him. I deeply regret that I should have caused you so +much anxiety as I have during the past week, while this inquiry has been +pending. I knew the truth must come out sooner or later--but I would +rather you should know it from me; crushed and ruined as I am, I have no +hope that you will look with any other feelings than those of abhorrence +on me, but you do not know the heavy punishment I have already suffered, +or you would feel for me." + +"Are you aware, George Weston, that there is a yet heavier punishment, +and that, as Mr. Compton's representative, I shall feel it my painful +duty to--" + +"No, sir; here is Mr. Compton's opinion upon the case," said George, +handing the telegraphic message to Mr. Sanders, who listened with +astonishment as he explained the circumstances. "But should Mr. Compton, +upon a careful examination into the case, wish to prosecute," he +continued, "I will appear whenever and wherever he pleases. And now, Mr. +Sanders, I leave this office, ruined and disgraced, the result of my own +folly and sin." + +George spoke hoarsely, and his face was pale as Death. Mr. Sanders was +moved; and put out his hand to shake hands with him, and say good-bye, +but George held his back. + +"Remember, sir, you are an honest man; you cannot shake hands with me," +said George. + +"Weston, I am not your judge; there is One who will judge not only this +act, but all the acts that have led to it," said Mr. Sanders, solemnly. +"I have had more interest and greater hopes in you than in any young man +who ever came into this office; and I feel more sorrow now, on your +account, than I can put into words. Do not let this great and disastrous +fall sink you into lower depths of sin. If you have forfeited man's +respect and esteem, there is a God with whom there is mercy and +forgiveness. Seek Him, and may He bless you! Good-bye, George Weston," +and the manager, with tears in his eyes, wrung the cold, trembling hand +that was stretched out to his. + +George took up his carpet-bag, which he had brought from the hotel, and +was about to leave, but he paused a moment. + +"Will you send Hardy in here?" he asked Mr. Sanders. "I must have a word +with him before I go." + +Hardy had been expecting all the morning to have some explanation from +George, and had been uneasy at his absence. When he went into Mr. +Compton's room he was surprised to see George, with his bag in his hand, +ready to make a departure. + +"Hardy," said George, "I told you last night I should soon have to bid +you good-bye, and now the time has arrived. I am going away from the +office, and perhaps from England, but I cannot tell you where I am +going. I leave in disgrace; my once good name is now blighted and +withered; my old friends will look upon me with abhorrence." + +"No, George, I am one of your old friends; I never shall," interrupted +Hardy. "I do not know what you have done, nor do I wish to know, but I +cannot believe your heart and disposition are changed, or will ever +change so much as to make me regard you in any other light than that of +a dear and valued friend. But where are you going, George? Do tell me +that." + +"No, Hardy, I cannot. I am going away, God only knows where; it may be +abroad, it may not. I am going somewhere where I shall not be known, and +where I can try to work back for myself a character and a good name, +which I can never redeem in London. Some day I may let you know where I +am." + +"But, George, does your mother know where you are going?" + +"No," said George, and his voice was tremulous as he spoke. "No; I have +no mother now. I am too fallen to claim relationship with one so good +and noble and holy as my mother is." + +"Oh, George, give up this wild scheme! Have you thought that you are +going the most direct way to break your mother's heart, and to make her +life, as well as your own, blank, solitary, and miserable? Whatever +wrong you have done, do not add to it by breaking that commandment which +bids us honour our parents. Your mother has claims upon you which you +have no right to disregard in this way." + +"I have thought it all well over, Hardy. I believe it is for her good +as well as for mine that our paths should run differently, but I cannot +explain all now. I am in dread lest my uncle should call here before I +get away. Hardy, good-bye, old fellow." + +"No, I cannot say good-bye yet. George, give me your address; promise to +let me see you again, and I will promise to keep your secret sacredly." + +"I do not know where I am going; I have no fixed plan; but I do promise +to write to you, Hardy." + +"And now, George, make me one other promise. If you are in difficulties, +and I can assist you, or do anything for you in any way, at any time, +you will let me know--remember I shall always be Charles Hardy to you, +and you will always be George Weston to me. Do you agree?" + +"Yes, Hardy, I agree. I cannot thank you. I cannot say what I would, or +tell you what I feel. May you be blessed and be happy, and never know +what it is to have a heavy, broken heart like mine. And now one promise +from you. Go and see my mother; try and comfort her; tell her how I +grieve to part from her." + +George could not continue; the nervous twitching of his face showed the +struggle within, and it was a relief when the hot tears broke through +and coursed down his cheek. Hardy was greatly affected. He loved George +with an intensity of love like that which knit together the soul of +Jonathan and David; he had been to him more than a brother ever since +they had been acquainted; in hours of business and recreation, in joys +and sorrows, in plans and aims, they had been one; and now the tie was +to be severed, and severed under such sad circumstances. + +There is a solemnity about sorrow which speech desecrates. Not another +word was spoken by either--both hearts were too full for that; but as +the tears ran thickly down their cheeks, they grasped each other's hand, +and then, fairly sobbing, George hurried from the office. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +IN EXILE. + + +George went direct from the office to the railway station, and took a +ticket to Plymouth. He had but a short time to wait before the train +left, and bore him away. The green fields and smiling country were +nothing to him; he felt no pleasure in seeing the merry, happy children +playing in the lanes, as the train whizzed past. The greetings of +friends on the platforms at the different stations only made him sigh. +Who would greet him on his journeys? Tired and worn out with sleepless +nights and anxious days, he tried to doze, but the attempt was vain. He +feared lest some one might have tracked his steps to the station, and +have telegraphed for him to be stopped at the terminus. Then, when he +had thought and pondered over such probabilities as these, and +endeavoured to dismiss them, he tried to form some plans for the future; +but all the future was dark--no ray of light, however faint or distant, +could be seen, and every plan he would make must be left to +circumstances. When the passengers alighted at one of the stations to +take refreshments, George got out too, for the purpose of breaking his +long fast. He tried to eat a biscuit, but he could not get it down,--all +appetite was gone; so, drinking a glass of ale, he wandered to the book +stall, and purchased a newspaper to read during the remainder of the +journey. The train started off again, and George settled himself to +read. The first thing that met his eye was an account of the assizes, +and the first case was headed, "Forgery by a Banker's Clerk." This +brought back to remembrance, more vividly than ever, the sad scenes of +the past few days; he threw the paper out of the window, and abandoned +himself to thought. + +At last the train arrived at Plymouth. George hastened on to the +platform, and walked rapidly into the town, fearing lest any one should +recognize him, or lest any official should wish to detain him. With his +bag in hand, he wandered through the streets, uncertain what to do or +where to go. Presently he came to a small house, in an obscure street, +with a placard in the window stating that apartments were to let. He +knocked, and was answered by the landlady, a respectable looking woman, +who told him that she had a bedroom and sitting-room to let, and would +accommodate him on reasonable terms. George said he should not require +the room more than a few days, or a week, as he was about to leave by +one of the vessels in the port. The terms were arranged, and he at once +took possession. As it was very late, he thought he would go to bed +without delay. + +"Will you not have some supper first?" asked the landlady. + +"No, thank you," said George: "I am tired with my journey, and shall be +glad to get to sleep as soon as I can." + +"But, sir, you really look ill," persisted the landlady, who was a kind, +motherly woman; "will you let me make you a little spirits and water?" + +"I will not refuse that," said George, "for I do feel ill. Parting with +friends and relatives is at all times a disagreeable matter, and I have +bidden good-bye to them in London to-day, rather than bring them down +here." + +"Ah, sir! parting is a sad thing," answered the woman. "It is two years +since my son went to sea; he was much about your age, sir, and he went +away against my wish, and I have never seen or heard from him since. He +has nearly broken my heart, poor boy, and left me all alone in this +wide, hard world." + +George was glad to have some one to talk to, but he was distressed by +this narration of his landlady. If she mourned for her son, who had been +absent for two years, how would his mother mourn? + +George passed a restless, anxious night; when he dozed off to sleep, it +was only to be tormented with harrowing dreams, in which he fancied +himself at one time standing before a judge in a court of justice, +answering to the crime of forgery. At another, gazing upon a funeral +procession moving slowly and solemnly along, with his Uncle Brunton +following as sole mourner. Then he would start up, half with joy and +half with sorrow, as he fancied he heard voices like those of his mother +and uncle calling to him from the street. His head ached, and his heart +was heavy. He felt thankful when the morning dawned, and it was time to +rise. He bathed his hot, feverish head in water, and dressed; but as he +passed by the looking-glass and caught a glance at his pale, haggard +countenance, so changed within a few short hours, he started. + +"Oh, God! give me strength! give me strength!" he said. "If I should be +ill, if anything should happen to me, what should I do? I am all alone; +there is no one to care for me now!" And he sank down in a chair, +burying his face in his hands as if to hide the picture his mind had +drawn. + +After breakfast, he strolled to the docks, looked over some of the +vessels, and made inquiries about the shipping offices. He learned that +a ship was about to sail immediately to Port Natal, and that all +information could be obtained of the agents. Thither George repaired; +the agent gave him an exaggerated account of the signal prosperity which +all enterprising young men met with in Natal, praised Pietermaritzburg, +the capital of the colony, and offered to give him letters of +introduction to residents there, who would advise him as to the best +ways of making a comfortable living. The agent then took him down to the +vessel, told him that he must take a passage at once, if he wished to +leave by her, as she would sail in two or three days at the latest. It +was a matter of comparative indifference to George where he went--the +large, lonely world was before him, and Port Natal might make him as +good a home as anywhere else. George went back with the agent to the +office, and paid a deposit of fifteen pounds on the passage money. + +"What is your name, sir?" asked the agent, with pen in hand, ready to +make the entry. + +George coloured as he answered, "Frederick Vincent." + +"Then, Mr. Vincent, you will be on board not later than nine o'clock on +Tuesday morning; the vessel will go out of harbour by twelve. You can +come on board as much earlier as you like, but I have named the latest +time. You had better send your luggage down on Monday." + +"Luggage?" said George. "Oh, yes! that shall be sent in time." + +As George returned to his lodgings, he felt even more wretched than when +he started out It was Wednesday morning, and the vessel would not leave +till the following Tuesday. The excitement of choosing a vessel was +over; there was now only the anxiety and suspense of waiting its +departure. True, he had his outfit to purchase, but this would have to +be done furtively; he could not bear to be walking in the streets in +broad daylight, noticed by passers-by, every one of whom he fancied knew +his whole history, and was plotting either to prevent his departure, or +to reveal his secret. + +Mrs. Murdoch (that was the name of his landlady) endeavoured to make him +as comfortable as possible in his apartments; but external comfort was +nothing to George--he wanted some word of love, some one to talk to, as +in days of old. He avoided conversation as much as possible with Mrs. +Murdoch, for she would talk of her absent son, and every word went as an +arrow to George's heart. + +That first day seemed a week. Hour after hour dragged wearily along, and +when six o'clock in the evening came, George thought all time must have +received some disarrangement, for it seemed as if days had elapsed since +the morning. He went out after dark to a neighbouring shop and made some +purchases of outfit; but he was thankful when he had completed his task, +for he had noticed a man walking backwards and forwards in front of the +shop, and he felt a nervous dread lest it should be some spy upon him. +He resolved that he would remain in his rooms, and not go out again +until he left for the voyage on Tuesday, but would ask Mrs. Murdoch to +make the remainder of the necessary purchases for him. + +How lonely and desolate George felt that night! More than once he half +determined rather to bear shame and reproach, and have the society of +those he loved, than continue in that dreadful isolation. He was +thoroughly unmanned. "Oh, that Hardy or Ashton were here, or any friend, +just to say, 'George Weston, old fellow,' once more; what a weight of +dreariness it would remove!" Then he would wonder what was going on at +home, whether his mother was plunged in grief, or whether she was +saying, "He has brought it all on himself, let him bear it." But George +could not reconcile this last thought; he tried hard to cherish it; he +felt he would infinitely rather know his mother was filled with anger +and abhorrence at his crime, than that she mourned for him, and longed +to press him to her bosom and bind up the wounded heart. But he could +not shake off this last idea. It haunted him every moment, and added to +the weight of sorrow which seemed crushing him. + +Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed, and George was still the victim +to anxiety and corroding care. He had paced his room each day, and +tossed restlessly in his bed each night; had tried reading and writing, +to while away the time, and had found every attempt futile. + +Mrs. Murdoch was anxious on his account. + +"Mr. Vincent," she said to him, "you eat nothing, you take no exercise; +you don't sleep at night, for I can hear you, from my room, tossing +about; and I am doctor enough to know that you are ill, and will be +worse, if you do not make some alteration. Do be persuaded by me, and +take some little recreation, or else you will not be in a fit state to +go on board on Tuesday." + +"You are very kind, Mrs. Murdoch," replied George, "but I have no bodily +ailment. If I could get a change of thought, that is the best physic for +a mind diseased." + +"It is, sir," replied the landlady; "and now will you think me rude if I +tell you how you may have that change of thought? You are about to start +on a very dangerous voyage; for long months you will have the sky above +and the sea below, and only a few planks between you and death. Have +you, sir, committed your way to the Lord, and placed your life in His +hands? I know it is a strange thing to ask you, but I hope you will not +be offended. You have seemed so sad for the past day or two, that I +could not help feeling you wanted comfort, and none can give it but the +Heavenly Friend." + +"I do want comfort and support, Mrs. Murdoch, but--" + +"No, sir, there is no _but_ in the case. 'Come onto Me, all ye that are +weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest'--is said to all; and +we only have to go to Him to find all we want." + +"Well, Mrs. Murdoch, I will see if I cannot combine both your +suggestions; and as to-morrow will be Sunday, it will be a recreation to +go to some church or chapel. Can you recommend me a good preacher?" + +"Yes, sir, that I can. If you will go to my pew at chapel to-morrow +morning, I am sure you will like the gentleman who preaches there." + +"Then I will go," said George. + +When he went up to his room again, those few words of Mrs. Murdoch were +still speaking to him. + +"'Weary and heavy laden!' he thought; surely that is my lot. I so young, +once so happy, to feel weary and heavy laden; how strange! But no, it is +not strange--it is natural. Sin brings its punishment, and it is hard +work, bearing its burden! oh! that I could find some spot where I could +rest." + +There was a spot, not far from George, where he could have rested, but +he did not know it. He was oppressed with his weariness, and he longed +for peace and ease of mind to come to him. He did not consider the +words, "Come unto ME." + +There was an old Family Bible on the book-case in his room, and George +took it down. It was a long time since he had read the Word of God: and +when he had it was only to compare it with the dangerous opinions he had +received, and find out what he imagined to be its discrepancies and +contradictions. A feeling of remorse came over him as he put the book on +the table. + +"What right have I to open this book, or attempt to find anything here +for encouragement?" he asked himself. "I have mocked and ridiculed it in +days of prosperity, and yet I am willing to take it up in trouble, as if +it were an old friend. Ah! it was an old friend once, but that has all +gone by now." + +He sat a long time looking at the book. Perhaps there is nothing that +brings back the memories of the past more vividly than the sight of a +Family Bible to one who has long ceased to read and love it. There are +old scenes of childhood associated with it which time can never erase. +Who cannot remember sitting on his mother's knee, or with chair drawn up +beside his father, hearing its sweet music sounded in the home circle on +the Sabbath night? Who can forget the last evening of the holidays +before going back to school, when the old book was brought out, and some +useful text was selected as a monitor and remembrancer? Who can forget +the time when some loved one was ill, and as friends and relatives sat +round the bed of the invalid, the Book was laid upon the table, and +words of comfort were proclaimed to all. + +Many and many a scene moved past George in the mental panorama which the +sight of Mrs. Murdoch's book created. He seemed not to be remembering, +but to be living in the former days. There was his father seated in the +old arm-chair, with Carlo, the faithful dog at his feet, and his elbows +rented upon the table, and his head upon his hand--a favourite +attitude--as he read the Sacred Word. There was dear old Dr. Seaward, +with his spectacles stuck up on his forehead, in his study at +Folkestone, and a party of boys round him, listening eagerly to the +words of instruction and advice which fell from his lips. + +And then the past merged into the present, and George started to find +himself alone in a strange room, in a strange town, with a strange Bible +before him. + +He opened the Book and read. The fifty-first Psalm was the portion of +Scripture to which he inadvertently turned, commencing, "Have mercy upon +me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness; according unto the +multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions." + +He read the Psalm through in amazement. Again he read it, with +increased wonder and astonishment, that any one should have made a +prayer so exactly like that which he felt in his heart he wanted to +pray; and at last he went to the door and locked it, for fear of +interruption, took the Bible from the table and placed it on a chair, +and kneeling down read the prayer again; and repeating it aloud, +sentence by sentence, offered it up as his petition to the throne of +Mercy. + + * * * * * + +On Sunday morning, when the bells were ringing their glad peals, and the +people were already in the streets, on their way to the different places +of worship, George started off, directed by Mrs. Murdoch, to the chapel +of which she had spoken to him. + +He felt very sad as he walked along; it was the last Sunday, perhaps, he +should ever spend in England, and he must spend it alone, an alien from +all whom he loved. The temporary calm which he had experienced on the +previous evening had gone; no prayer for assistance through the day had +issued from his lips that morning, but there was the old feeling of +shame, and chagrin, and disgrace, which had haunted him for the past +week, and with it the dogged determination to bear up against it until +it should be lost in forgetfulness. But George had resolved to go to +chapel that morning, because he felt he wanted a change of some sort, +and there was a melancholy pleasure in spending a part of his last +Sunday in England after his once customary manner. + +The preacher was an old gentleman, of a mild, benevolent countenance, +and with a winning, persuasive manner. When he gave out the first hymn, +reading it solemnly and impressively, George felt he should have +pleasure in listening to the sermon. The congregation joined in the hymn +of praise, with heart and voice lifted up to the God of the Sabbath in +thanksgiving. The singing was rich and good, and George, who was a +passionate lover of music, was touched by its sweet harmony. He did not +join in the hymn, his heart was too full for that; but the strains were +soothing, and produced a natural, reverential emotion which he had been +long unaccustomed to feel. + +The minister took for his text the words, "'Lord, if thou wilt, thou +canst make me clean.' And Jesus put forth His hand, and touched him, +saying, 'I will, be thou clean.'" + +A rush of joy thrilled through George as he heard the words. His +attention was rivetted as he listened to the simple story of the leper +being restored to health; and when the preacher drew the comparison +between leprosy and sin, and revealed Jesus as the Great Physician to +the sick soul, who, in reply to the heartfelt wish, could say, "Thy +sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee," George felt the whole +strength of his soul concentrated in that one desire, "Lord, if thou +wilt, thou canst make _me_ clean." He looked into his own heart--he was +almost afraid to look--and saw the ravages of disease there. He thought +of his past life; there was not one thing to recommend him to God. +NEVER before had he seen his sin in the light in which it was now +revealed by God's Word. He had viewed it in relation to man's opinion, +and his own consciousness; but now the Holy Spirit was striving within +him, and showing him his position in the sight of God. + +The preacher went on to unfold the sweet story of the Cross, to tell of +the simple plan of salvation, and to point to Jesus, the Lamb of God, +"who taketh away the sins of the world." It seemed to George as if he +had never heard the glad tidings before; it had never made the hot tear +run down his cheek, as he thought of the Saviour suffering for sins not +His own, until now; it had never before torn the agonised sigh from his +heart, as the truth flashed before him that it was he who had helped to +nail the Holy One to the accursed tree; he had never realised before +that earth was but the portal to the heavenly mansions--that time was +but the herald of eternity. Now, all these things came crowding upon his +mind, and when the sermon concluded he was in a bewilderment of joy and +sorrow. + +A parting hymn was sung--that glorious old hymn-- + + "There is a fountain filled with blood, + Drawn from Emmanuel's veins." + +When it came to those lines-- + + "The dying _thief_ rejoiced to see + That fountain in his day; + And there may I, though vile as he, + Wash all my sins away:" + +he could bear it no longer: he could not restrain the torrent of tears +which was struggling to get free; he could not stay in that assembly of +people; he must be alone, alone with God, alone with his own heart. + +When he reached his apartments, he went immediately to his room, and +there, beside his bed, he knelt and poured out his soul to God. Words +could not tell his wants, words could not express his contrition; but +there he knelt, a silent pleader, presenting himself with all the dark +catalogue of a life's sin before his dishonoured God. + +George thought he had experienced the extremity of sorrow during the few +days he had been in Plymouth, but it was as nothing compared with that +he now felt. He had grieved over name and reputation lost, prospects +blighted, and self-respect forfeited, but now he mourned over a God +dishonoured, a Saviour slighted, a life mis-spent. Is there any sorrow +like unto that sorrow which is felt by a soul crushed beneath the sense +of sin? + +How that day passed, George hardly knew. He felt his whole life +epitomised in those few hours spent in solemn confession. Oh, how he +longed to realise a sense of pardon--to know and feel, as the leper knew +and felt, that he was made clean. But he could not do so: he only felt +himself lost and ruined, and found expression but in one cry, "Unclean! +unclean!" + +He was aroused in the evening by the ringing of church bells again; and, +taking a hasty cup of tea, at Mrs. Murdoch's solicitation, he once more +bent his steps to the place of worship he had visited in the morning, +with the earnest desire and prayer that he might hear such truths +taught as would enable him to see Jesus. + +How often does God "_devise means_ that His banished be not expelled +from Him," and in His providential mercy order those events and +circumstances to occur, which are instrumental in preparing the mind for +the reception of His truth! It was no chance, no mere coincidence, that +the preacher took for his text those words which were associated with so +many recollections of George, "_for me to live is Christ_." + +Simply, but earnestly, he drew pictures of life, in its many phases, and +contrasted them with the one object worth living for. Upon all else was +written, vanity of vanities--living for pleasure was but another name +for living for future woe: living for wealth was losing all; living for +honour was but heaping condemnation for the last day: while living for +Christ gave not only pleasure, and riches, and honour here, but +hereafter. Then he spoke of the preciousness of Jesus to those who +believe, as the sympathising Friend, and the loving Brother; of the +honour and joy of living for Him who had died to bring life and +immortality to light; and of that "peace which passeth understanding." + +That night there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over a +new-born soul. As George listened to the voice of the preacher, there +fell from his eyes as it had been scales, and he saw the Father running +to embrace the returning prodigal, and felt the kiss of His forgiving +love. The words which his earthly father had last spoken to him, were +those chosen by his heavenly Father to show him his new blissful +relationship as a son. And at what a gracious time! George was a +wanderer, an outcast, without father or friend, without object or aim in +life, and the doors of heaven were thrown open to him; the sympathy of +Divine love was poured into that aching heart, and the words of +rejoicing were uttered, "This, MY SON, was dead, and is alive again; was +lost, and is found." + +The weary one was at rest, the heart of stone palpitated with a living +breath, "The dead one heard the voice of the Son of God, and lived." + +Who can sympathise with George as he sat in his room that night, +overwhelmed with joy unspeakable? He was a new creature in a new world; +old things had passed away, behold all things had become new. He looked +up to heaven as his home, to God as his Father, to Jesus as his great +elder Brother; and he realised his life as hidden with Christ in God, +redeemed and reconciled, henceforth not his own, but given to Him who +had washed him, and made him clean in His own blood. + + * * * * * + +Great joy is harder to bear than great sorrow. George had suddenly gone +from one to the other extreme, and at a time when he was suffering from +physical prostration, the result of such strong mental struggles. + +"Mr. Vincent, it is nine o'clock," Mrs. Murdoch called out, as she +knocked at his door next morning. No answer was returned. + +"Mr. Vincent, will you come down to breakfast, sir?" she repeated more +loudly, but with no greater success. + +Again she knocked, wondering that George should sleep so soundly, and be +so difficult to arouse, as he was accustomed to answer at the first +call. + +"Mr. Vincent, breakfast is waiting!" + +No answer coming, Mrs. Murdoch was anxious; she knew George had been +really ill for several days past, and had noticed his strange manner on +the previous evening. Without further hesitation, she opened the door, +and there on the floor lay George Weston, insensible, having apparently +fallen while in the act of dressing. + +Calling for assistance, she at once laid him upon the bed, applied all +the restoratives at hand, and without a moment's delay despatched a +messenger to the chemist in the next street, with instructions for him +to attend immediately. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MAKING DISCOVERIES. + + +"Will you grant me leave of absence for to-day?" Charles Hardy asked Mr. +Sanders, a few minutes after George had left the office, on the gloomy +and eventful morning when he disclosed the secret of his guilt. + +"I hardly know what to say--what to do," answered Mr. Sanders, puffing +and blowing; "business will come to a stand-still--the shutters had +better go up at once. But if you want particularly to be off to-day, I +suppose I must manage to spare you." + +"I may want several days, sir; but if that should be the case, I will +return to the office to-morrow in time to see Mr. Compton immediately he +comes back" + +It was but the work of five minutes for Charles to write a short note, +change his office coat, and prepare to start The note was addressed to +Mr. Brunton, care of Mr. Sanders till called for, and ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR SIR, + + "Do not be more uneasy than necessary about George. I think I have a + clue by which his address may be ascertained. If so, I will report + progress to you to-night; but I leave this note for you, in order to + allay the distress you will feel in learning he is not here. Rest + assured of my earnest desire to serve my dear friend, and to relieve + him if possible. My time and services you may command in this cause. + In haste, + + "Yours very faithfully, + + "CHARLES HARDY." + +Hardy had a clue, it is true; but it was a very faint one. He had +noticed, upon the table of Mr. Compton's room, a "Bradshaw's Railway +Guide;" and as he had not seen one there previously, he imagined it must +have been brought in by George, with his carpet-bag and other things, +and there left. One page of the book was turned down; Hardy had eagerly +opened it, and found it referred to the departures from the Great +Western Station. + +"I'll go on at once to that station," he thought. "He told me he might +be leaving England; perhaps he has gone to Liverpool, Plymouth, or Cork, +or some shipping place that can be reached by this line. At all events, +I have no other chance but this." + +With all speed Charles drove off to Paddington. Diligently he conned +over the intricate mysteries of "Bradshaw" as he journeyed along, +endeavouring to ascertain when trains would be leaving for any of the +places to which he had imagined his friend might be going. It is hardly +necessary to say he could not find what he wanted; but his anxiety and +suspense were relieved by the search. + +Before alighting at the station, Hardy carefully glanced all around to +ascertain that George was not in sight; for it was not his intention to +speak to him or endeavour to turn him from his purpose, knowing that, in +his present excited state he would stand no chance whatever of +frustrating his friend's plans, but would rather be adopting the most +certain means of destroying his own. Hardy's present object was only to +try and find out to what part George would travel, and then communicate +with Mr. Brunton and get his advice how to proceed. + +Cautiously he walked along the platform, looking into every +waiting-room, and making inquiries of the porters it they had seen any +one answering to the description he gave of George. This course proving +futile, he went to the ticket-office, and consulted a time-table, to +find whether any train had recently left for any of the places which, he +felt convinced, were the most probable for George to choose. An hour or +two had elapsed since the last train left, and George had not had more +than twenty minutes' start ahead of him. He took down in his pocket-book +the time for the departure of the next train; and then choosing a +secluded spot in the office, where he would be out of observation, and +yet able to see all who came up for tickets, he waited patiently until +the slow, dawdling hand of the clock neared the hour. + +Hardy felt the chances were fifty to one that while he was waiting there +George might be at some other station, leaving London without a trace to +his whereabouts; he thought whether, after all, George might not have +purposely, instead of accidentally, left the "Bradshaw" with that +particular page turned down, in order that, should he be sought, a wrong +scent might be given; and even if he intended to travel by this line and +to one of these particular places, might he not choose nighttime as the +most desirable for his object? But Hardy had _purpose_ in him; he would +not throw away the strongest clue he had, although that was faint, and +he resolved to stay there until midnight, it need be, rather than +abandon his design, + +His patience was not put to such a test as this. While he was standing, +with palpitating heart, behind that door in the booking office, George +was in the porters' room, not a hundred yards off, waiting with deeper +anxiety for the clock to point to the hour when the train should start. +Presently, the first bell rang. A number of people, with bags and +packages in hand, came crowding up to the ticket office, but George was +not there. Hardy could scarcely refrain from rushing out to look around. +What if he should get into a train without a ticket, or send a guard to +procure one for him? A hundred doubts and fears were pressing upon him, +and--the second bell rang. Two or three minutes more, and the train +would be off. At the moment he was consulting his pocket-book to see how +long a time must elapse before the next train would leave, he started +with joyful surprise to see George walk hurriedly up to the office and +obtain a ticket. As hurriedly he disappeared. "Now is my chance," +thought Hardy. + +"Where did that young man take his ticket for?" he asked the clerk, as +soon as he had elbowed his way past the few remaining persons who were +before the window. + +"Which one?" said he; "two or three young men have just taken tickets." + +"I mean the last ticket but one you issued?" + +"Plymouth." + +"Hurrah!" cried Hardy, to the astonishment of the clerk, who probably +would not have given the information, had he not thought the inquirer +wanted a ticket for the same place. + +Hardy was too cautious, even in the moment of his surprise, to let his +object be lost by over-haste; he knew it would not be wise to let +himself be seen, and though he longed to rush after George and say, +"Good-bye, cheer up, old chap!" he only allowed himself the painful +pleasure of looking through the window of a waiting-room, and seeing his +old friend and chum, sad and solitary, get into the carriage. Shriek +went the whistle, and away went the train. Whether it whizzed along so +rapidly, or the smoke and steam enveloped it, or from whatever cause it +was, Charles Hardy found his sight growing dimmer, until a mist shut out +the scene. + +From the station Hardy went home. He wanted to tell his parents some of +the occurrences of the day, and let them know of his expected absence. +He knew that he had difficulties to meet. George had always been kindly +received by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy; they both liked him, and were glad when +he came to spend an evening at their house. But latterly they had been +rather anxious about the growing intimacy between him and their son, and +often had a word of caution been given that Charles should be very +careful how far he allowed his friend to influence him. + +Now Hardy could only tell his parents that George had got into worse +trouble than ever--such trouble that he was obliged to leave his +situation, and had decamped, no one except himself knew where. Of course +Mr. and Mrs. Hardy would not put a good construction upon the affair. He +anticipated they would say, "Well, I always feared he would come to +this;" and would try to dissuade Charles from having anything more to do +with him. It was not to be expected they would look with such leniency +upon the matter as he would. Therefore, it was with no small difficulty +he proceeded, immediately upon reaching home, to tell them of what had +occurred. It was a short story, and soon told. + +"Now, father," said Hardy, before allowing him time to bring objections +to the part he had performed that day, "I have promised Mr. Brunton to +assist in finding George, and I have told Mr. Sanders I may be away some +days from the office. I know Mr. Compton will not object to this; if +that is all, I can have this leave of absence instead of the holiday he +promised me next mouth. George must be found; if I can help it, he shall +not leave England--at all events, not in this way. I know it will kill +Mrs. Weston, if he does." + +"Well, Charles, I know your kindheartedness, and I appreciate it; but I +cannot give my consent to the plan. Recollect, by associating yourself +with your former friend now, you do injury to yourself; he has got +himself into disgrace--he must bear the burden of it. What will Mr. +Compton think, when he hears that you--you who have always maintained +such strict integrity--have gone off after a dishonest, runaway clerk?" + +"I never wish to run counter to your opinions, father, if I can help it; +but I must do so now, George Weston is my friend--not _was_ my friend, +as you said just now--and I would not act such a cowardly part as to +desert him. Don't be vexed at what I say; I know you advise for my good; +but you do not know how I feel in this matter. Suppose our positions +were changed, and I had done as George has done--there is no +impossibility in such a case--I am too weak against temptation to doubt +that had I been placed in the circumstances similar to his, I might have +done the same, Suppose I had, what would you have thought of me? Should +I have been your dishonest, runaway son, to whom all friendship must be +denied, and who might be left to bear any burden alone, because I had +brought it upon myself? No, father; you would be the first to seek and +comfort me, and the first to cry 'Shame!' upon any of my friends who +turned and kicked me the moment I had fallen." + +Mr. Hardy could not resist the force of his son's argument, nor could he +refrain from admiring the genuineness of his friendship for George, and +the manly determination he had formed to assist him. + +"Well, Charles," he said, "I do not blame you for taking this course. I +hope it may be serviceable to your friend, and without any injury to +yourself." + +"Do not fear, father. And now I must pack up a few necessaries in my +bag, and be off to Mr. Brunton's. If I do not return home to-morrow, do +not be uneasy about me, and I will write to you every day to say how +things are going on." + +When Hardy arrived at the house of Mr. Brunton, he found him, as he +anticipated, in a high state of nervous anxiety. + +"I am so thankful you have arrived, Mr. Hardy," he said, shaking him +warmly by the hand: "and I need not tell you Mrs. Weston has been +waiting with great impatience to see you." + +"Mrs. Weston! is she here?" + +"Yes; not many minutes after you had left the office I called there, and +received the sad news about--about George. I at once telegraphed to Mrs. +Weston to come up to town, and it needed no urging to hasten her, for +she had only a short time before received a letter from him, which had +filled her with alarm. But let us go to her at once," said Mr. Brunton, +leading the way to the drawing-room; "she entreated I would bring you to +her the moment you arrived." + +As Hardy entered, Mrs. Weston sprang to meet him. + +"Have you found George?--where is he?" she asked, and the look of +struggling hope and despair was touching to witness. + +"I have not found him, Mrs. Weston, but I know the place of his present +destination. He has gone to Plymouth;" and then Hardy briefly explained +the incidents of the morning. + +"I cannot tell you how thankful I am to you, Mr. Hardy," said Mrs. +Weston, as he concluded. "May God bless you for your kindness to my pool +George!" + +"George would have done more for me, Mrs. Weston," Hardy replied; "but, +at present, little or nothing has been done. Have you any plans, and can +I help you in them?" + +"We must go on as soon as possible to Plymouth, and find out where he +is. He may perhaps be on the eve of starting away by some of the vessels +in the port. Not a minute should be lost." + +"Then, sir, I will go down to Plymouth by the mail train which leaves in +about a couple of hours, if you will let me; and I promise you that I +will do my best to find him," said Hardy. + +This unexpected proposition removed an infinite burden from Mr. +Brunton's mind. He felt that it was his duty to see Mr. Compton at once, +and he had other engagements which made it impossible for him to leave +that night. He did not like Mrs. Weston travelling alone, in her present +anxious and desponding state, and had been at his wit's end all day to +know how to manage. + +"But, Mr. Hardy, can you go? Have you consulted your friends at home? +Can you manage to get leave of absence from the office?--remember they +will be short of hands there," asked Mr. Brunton. + +"I have made all arrangements at home, sir and my only difficulty is +about Mr. Compton. But if you will please see him as soon as he returns, +and explain why I have left, I am sure he will not be displeased. He was +so fond of George, I know he would have said 'Go, by all means,' had he +been at home." + +"I will undertake to set the matter right with him about you," said Mr. +Brunton; "but I doubt whether he will ever allow me to mention poor +George's name. Oh! Hardy, this is a sad, sad business!" + +"It is, sir; but it is sadder for George than for his friends," replied +Hardy. "I cannot bear to think of the trouble he is passing through at +this moment. It has cost him much to take the step he has taken, and +everything must be done to get him back from his voluntary banishment" + +"And everything shall be done that can," said Mr. Brunton. "God grant he +is still in England! I feel sure the sight of his mother and his friends +sorrowing for him, instead of turning against him as he supposes, will +alter his determination." + +"Mr. Hardy, may I place myself under your protection until my brother +joins us at Plymouth?" said Mrs. Weston, abruptly. "I will go down by +the mail train to-night; I cannot rest until he is found." + +Arrangements were speedily made, and that night the train bore off Mrs. +Western and Charles Hardy to Plymouth. + +On the following morning Mr. Brunton called at Falcon-court. Mr. Compton +had not yet arrived, but was expected hourly. Not wishing to lose time, +which that morning was particularly precious to him, he asked for some +writing materials, and seating himself in Mr. Compton's room, intended +to occupy himself until his arrival. After he had been there about +half-an-hour, his attention was arrested by hearing the door of the +clerk's office open, and an inquiry made. + +"Is Mr. George Weston here?" + +"Mr. Weston has left the office," answered Williams, who came forward to +answer the inquiry. "Left yesterday morning." + +"Indeed! Where has he gone to? why did he leave?" + +"I don't think anyone knows where he has gone to," answered Williams; +"and I am not disposed to say why he left." + +Williams did not know why he had left, nor were the circumstances of the +case known to any of the clerks; but many surmises had been made which +were unfavourable to him, and it was with the exultant pleasure a mean +spirit feels in a mean triumph, that Williams had at last an opportunity +of speaking lightly of the once good name of George Weston, to whom he +had ever cherished feelings of animosity. + +"Is Mr. Compton in, or the manager?" asked the visitor. "I am +exceedingly anxious to know what has become of my friend." + +"Between ourselves," said Williams, "the less you say about your friend +the better. It strikes me--mind, I merely give you this confidentially +as my impression--that, when Weston turns up again, his friends will not +be over-anxious to renew their acquaintance." + +"What do you mean? I do not understand you." + +"What I mean is this. When a clerk is dismissed from an office during +the absence of the principal, leaves suddenly and has to hide +himself--more particularly when accounts at the banker's do not quite +balance--one cannot help thinking there is a screw loose somewhere." + +Mr. Brunton overheard all this; he who had never before heard an +unfavourable sentence spoken against his nephew. He had not fully +realised until that moment the painful position in which George's crime +had placed him, nor the depth of his nephew's fall in position and +character. He longed to have been able to stand up in vindication of +George against the terrible insinuations of Williams; he would have been +intensely thankful if he could have accosted the stranger, and said, +"That man is guilty of falsehood who dares to speak against the good +name of my nephew." But there he stood, with blood boiling and lips +quivering, unable to contradict one sentence that had been uttered. + +"If Weston _does_ turn up," continued Williams, "will you leave any +message or letter, or your name, and it shall be forwarded?" + +"My name is Ashton," said the stranger; "but it is unnecessary to say +that I called. It does not do to be mixed up with matters like these. I +half feared something of the sort was brewing, but I had no idea tilings +would have taken so sudden a turn." + +Mr. Brunton could restrain his impatience no longer. + +"Mr. Ashton," he said, coming suddenly upon the speakers, "will you +favour me by stepping inside a minute or two? I shall be glad to speak +to you." + +Ashton was taken by surprise at seeing Mr. Brunton where he least +expected to see him. + +"I have been placed in the uncomfortable position of a listener to your +conversation in the next room," said Mr. Brunton, closing the door; "and +I cannot allow those remarks made by the clerk with whom you were +talking to pass unqualified." + +"They need little explanation, sir," said Ashton. "George Weston has +been on the verge of a catastrophe for some months, and I believe I can +fill in the outline of information which you heard given me." + +"I am in ignorance of the causes which have led to my nephew's +disgrace," answered Mr. Brunton; "nor am I desirous to hear them from +any lips but his. You were one of his most intimate friends, I believe, +Mr. Ashton?" + +"Yes; I think I may say his most intimate friend." + +"And you knew he was on the 'verge of a catastrophe.' I have no doubt +you acted the part of a friend, and sought to turn his steps from the +fatal brink?" + +"Well, as to that, he was fully competent to manage his own affairs +without my interference. I did tell him he would come to grief, if he +did not give up playing." + +"And did you add to that advice that he should quit those associates +who had assisted to bring him to such a pass?" + +"Certainly not; why should I meddle with him in his companionships? You +speak, Mr. Brunton, as if I were your nephew's keeper. If George Weston +liked to live beyond his means, he was at liberty to do it for me. I am +sorry he made such a smash at last, but it is all that could be +expected. If ever you see George again, sir, you will oblige me by +conveying one message. I did not think when he came to me, two nights +ago, to try and borrow a hundred pounds, that he intended to mix me up +in any disgraceful business like that of this morning. Had I known it, +instead of fretting myself about his welfare, he should have--" + +"Made the discovery," interrupted Mr. Brunton, "that he never had a +friend in you. My idea of a friend is one who seeks the well-being of +another; speaks to him as a second conscience in temptation; loves with +a strength of attachment which cannot be broken; and, though sorrowing +over error, can still hope and pray for and seek to restore the erring. +Mr. Ashton, I do not wish to say more upon this matter; it is painful +for me to think how my nephew has been led downward, step after step, by +those whom he thought friends, and how sinfully he has yielded. When +you think of him, recollect him as the boy you knew at school, and try +to trace his course down to this day. You know his history, his +companionships, his whole life. Think whether _you_ have influenced it, +and how; and if your conscience should say, 'I have not been his +friend,' may you be led by the remembrance to consider that no man +liveth to himself: and that for those talents and attractions with which +you are endowed, you will have hereafter to give account, together with +the good or evil which has resulted from them." + +To Ashton's relief the door opened, and Mr. Compton entered. Hastily +taking up his hat, he bade adieu to Mr. Brunton, glad of this +opportunity to beat a retreat. + +"Confound those Methodists!" he uttered to himself, as he walked up +Fleet-street; "speak to them, they talk sermons; strike them, and they +defend themselves with sermons; cut them to the quick, and I believe +they would bleed sermons. But why should he pounce upon me? What have I +done? A pretty life George would have led if it hadn't been for me, and +this is all the thanks I get. I wish to goodness he had not made such a +fool of himself; I shall have to answer all inquiries about him, and it +is no honour to be linked in such associations." + +The meeting between Mr. Compton and Mr. Brunton was one of mingled +feelings of pain and mortification. One had lost a valuable clerk, for +whom he cherished more than ordinary feelings of regard, and upon whom +he had hoped some day the whole management of the business would +devolve; the other had lost almost all that was dear to him on earth, +one whom he had watched, and loved, and worked for, and to whose bright +future he had looked forward with increasing pleasure, until it had +become a dream of life. Both were aggrieved, both were injured; but both +felt, in their degree, such strong feelings in favour of George, despite +his disgrace and crime, that they could look with more sorrow than anger +on the offender, and deal more in kindness than in wrath. + +Mr. Compton could not but agree with Mr. Brunton that he must be +discovered, if possible; and although he could never receive him under +any circumstances into his office again, nor could ever have for him the +feelings he once entertained, still he felt free to adhere to his first +determination not to prosecute or take any steps in the case, nor allow +it to have more publicity than could be helped. + +"He is still young," said he; "let him try to redeem the past. But it +is right he should feel the consequences of his actions, and no doubt he +will, as he has to encounter the difficulties which will meet him in +seeking to retrieve the position he has lost. You know me too well, +Brunton, to imagine that I do not estimate aright the extent of his +guilt; and you will give me credit for possessing a desire to do as I +would be done by in this case. I believe many a young man has been +ruined through time and eternity, by having been dealt with too +harshly--though in a legal sense quite justly; at the same time it has +been the only course to check a growing habit of crime in others. I know +well that in some instances it would be a duty to prosecute, if only as +a protection from suspicion of upright persons. But there are +exceptional cases, and I consider this to be one of them, although +perhaps many of our leading citizens might think me culpable in my +clemency; but I think I know your nephew sufficiently well to be +warranted in the belief that he feels his criminality, and will take a +lasting warning from this circumstance. And now, what do you intend to +do, since you know my determination?" + +Mr. Brunton explained the plans he had formed, and the valuable +assistance which Hardy had rendered him. He was pleased to hear from his +injured friend the heartily expressed wish that the end in view might be +accomplished. Mr. Brunton had surmounted one great difficulty, and he +could not feel sufficiently thankful at the issue. Although he had known +Mr. Compton for many years, and had seen innumerable evidences of his +benevolence and good nature, he knew, too, that he was the very +personification of honesty and uprightness; and he dreaded lest, +incensed against George for his ingratitude, and fearing the influence +of his conduct might spread in the office, he would take measures +against him which, although perfectly just, would, by their severity, +prove deeply injurious in such a case, and reduce George, who was +naturally sensitive of shame, to a position from which he might never be +restored. + +At the very earliest opportunity Mr. Brunton went down to Plymouth. +Business of the greatest importance, which he could not set aside, had +detained him in London until Friday, and his uneasiness had been +increased during that time by two notes he had received--one from Mrs. +Weston, and the other from Hardy--telling him of the unsuccessful issue +of their search. With an anxious heart he alighted at the station at +Plymouth, and walked to the hotel, where his sister and Hardy were +staying. The look of despair he read in Mrs. Weston's countenance, as +they met, told him that no favourable result had been obtained. + +"We have been everywhere, and tried every possible plan to find poor +George," she said, when Mr. Brunton sat down beside her and Hardy to +hear the recital of their efforts. "I should have broken down long ago, +had it not been for our dear friend here, who has been night and day at +work, plotting schemes and working them out, and buoying me up with +hopes in their result. But I feel sure George cannot be in Plymouth, and +our search is vain." + +"So Mrs. Weston has said all along," said Hardy; "but I cannot agree +with her; at all events, I will not believe it until we find out where +he has gone. He has not taken a passage in any of the vessels, as far as +we can ascertain; he is not in any of the inns in the town, I think, for +we have made the most searching inquiries at all of them; but in this +large place it is difficult to find any one without some positive clue." + +"Have you been able to find out whether he really arrived here?" asked +Mr. Brunton. + +"I think I have. One of the porters rather singularly recollected a +person, answering to the description, arriving by the train in which +George left London. It seems he was hastening away from the station +without giving up his ticket No doubt he was nervous and absent in mind; +and when the porter called to him, he started and seemed as if he were +alarmed: but in a minute he produced his ticket and went out The porter +looked suspiciously, I suppose, at the ticket, and evidently so at +George, for he was able to give a full description of him." + +"That is so far satisfactory," said Mr. Brunton; "but have you made any +more discoveries to render you tolerably sure he is still in Plymouth." + +"Yes, I have been to every shop where they fit out passengers for a sea +voyage, and have found out one where he purchased some articles of +clothing. But the clearest trace I have of him is from the shipping +agents. He was certainly looking over vessels on the morning after his +arrival here, for one or two captains have described him to me. I have +been a great many times down among the shipping, but have not made more +discoveries, and I cannot get any information from the shipping offices; +but in this you will probably meet with more success, sir, than I have, +for a young man is not of sufficient importance to command attention +from business men." + +Mr. Brunton was fully conscious of the difficulties which were in the +way of finding George, even supposing he was still in Plymouth: but he +was not without hope. He could not find words enough to express his +strong approbation of all that Hardy had done, and he felt sure that he +could have no better assistant in the undertaking than he. A series of +plans were soon formed: Hardy was to keep watch upon those vessels which +he thought it probable George might choose, and offer rewards to sailors +and others for information. Mr. Brunton was to try and discover the +names and descriptions of passengers booked at the shipping offices; and +Mrs. Weston was to keep a general lookout on outfitters' warehouses, and +other places where it might be probable George would visit. + +But every plan failed. Saturday night came, and, worn out with fatigue, +the anxious trio sat together to discuss the incidents of the day, and +propose fresh arrangements for the morrow. Sunday was not a day of rest +to them; from early morning they were all engaged in different +directions in prosecuting their search, and not until the curtain of +night was spread over the town, and the hum of traffic and din of bustle +had ceased, did they return to the hotel. + +After supper, Mr. Brunton took out his pocket Bible, and read aloud some +favourite passages. They seemed to speak with a voice of hope and +comfort, and inspired fresh faith in the unerring providence of Him who +doeth all things well. + +Very earnest were the prayers offered by that little party, as they +knelt together and commended the wanderer, wherever he might be, to the +care and guidance of the good providence of God. They felt how useless +were all plans and purposes unless directed by a higher source than +their own; and while they prayed for success upon the efforts put forth, +if in accordance with His will, they asked for strength and resignation +to bear disappointment Nor were their prayers merely that he whom they +were seeking might be found, but that he might find pardon and +acceptance with God, and that the evil which they lamented might, in the +infinitely wise purposes of Providence, be controlled for good. + +With fresh zeal and renewed hope the three set forth on the following +morning to prosecute their several plans. Hardy had learned that one or +two vessels would sail that day, and he was full of expectation that he +might meet with some tidings. + +Mr. Brunton felt rather unwell that morning--the press of business which +had detained him in London, the excitement of the journey, and the +fatigue of the previous days, had told upon his health. As he was +passing through a quiet part of the town, he called in at an +apothecary's to get a draught, which he hoped might ward off any serious +attack of sickness. While the draught was being prepared, Mr. Brunton, +who was intent upon his object and never left a stone unturned, +interrogated the apothecary, a gentlemanly and agreeable man, upon the +neighbourhood, the number of visitors in that locality, and other +subjects, ending by saying he was trying to discover the residence of a +relative, but without any knowledge of his address. + +In the midst of the conversation, a servant-girl, without bonnet or +shawl, came hurriedly into the shop, out of breath with running. + +"Oh, sir, if you please, sir, missus says, will you come at once to see +the young gentleman as stays at our house?--he's taken bad." + +"Who is your mistress, my girl?" asked the chemist. + +"Oh, sir, it's Mrs. Murdoch, of ---- Street; and the young gentleman is +a lodger from London, and he's going away to-morrow to the Indies or +somewheres; but do come, sir, please--missus'll be frightened to death, +all by herself, and him so dreadful bad." + +Mr. Brunton had been an anxious listener. Was it possible that the young +gentleman from London could be George? + +"How long has your lodger been with you?" he asked the girl. + +"A week come Wednesday--leastways, come Tuesday night,"--was the +accurate answer. + +Mr. Brunton, with eyes flashing with excitement, turned to the medical +man. "Will you allow me to accompany you on this visit?" he asked; "I +have reason to believe that your patient may be the relative for whom I +am searching." + +"Then come, by all means," answered the doctor; and, preceded by the +girl, who was all impatience to get home, and kept up a pace which made +Mr. Brunton puff lustily, they reached the house of Mrs. Murdoch. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE SICK CHAMBER. + + +The sun had gone down, and the twilight was fast losing itself in night. +The pale moon was struggling to look out upon the world through the +dark, heavy clouds which had collected around, as if expressly to +prevent this purpose. The hum of traffic in the street had ceased, and +the only sounds that came in at the open window were strains of music, +and the confused clamour of voices from a neighbouring tavern. The room +was a picture of neatness. The bed was draped in snowy furniture, and +the coverlid bore evidence of good taste and the ingenuity of +industrious hands. The mantlepiece was adorned with a few photographs +and a vase of fresh-gathered flowers. + +Upon a table in the corner of the room stood a lamp, with a green shade +over it to screen the light from the bed. Beside it were bottles, +phials, and other appliances of a sick chamber. + +A group stood round the bed, watching, with thrilling anxiety, the face +of the doctor as he held the inanimate hand of George Weston. + +You might have heard the ticking of his watch as he stood there and +gazed in the face of the patient, while Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton and +Charles Hardy waited motionless, almost breathless, to hear his verdict. + +"It is a more serious case than I imagined at first," said the doctor; +"I do not wish unnecessarily to alarm you, but it is my duty to say that +the condition of the patient is one of great danger, but I trust not +past recovery." + +"What is the nature of the illness--tell me candidly?" asked Mr. +Brunton, when he could command speech. + +"Brain fever," was the laconic answer. + +For a long time George Weston lay in that awful state which is neither +death nor life--when the spirit seems to be hovering round the body, +uncertain whether to wing its flight for ever from the tenement of +earth, or return to sojourn still longer in its old familiar +dwelling-house. Sometimes he would rave in the frenzy of madness, and +then sink in exhaustion with scarcely the power to draw a breath. + +Never was a sick-bed tended with greater care than his. Night after +night Mrs. Weston sat beside him, bathing the fevered head and cooling +the parched lips. Nor would she leave that post for a moment, until Mr. +Brunton was obliged to insist upon her taking rest. + +"Reserve your strength," he said; "we know not what is before us; it may +be--but we have nothing to do with the future," he added, interrupting +himself; "that must be left in His hands." + +Hardy was not able to remain in Plymouth longer than Wednesday. Mr. +Compton had written to him to say that, being short of hands, he was +very much pressed in business, and now that the main object of his +journey had been attained--for Mr. Brunton communicated with him almost +immediately--he should be glad if he would return as soon as possible. + +As he stood beside the bed of George Weston on the morning of his +departure, and gazed into those pale and haggard features, which had +always beamed with a friendly smile for him, but which he might never +see again, he could not restrain the impulse of clasping his hand, and +uttering solemnly the prayerful wish, "God preserve and bless you, +George!" + +The words were not heard by George--his ears were closed in dull +insensibility--but they were caught by Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston, who +that moment entered the room, and Hardy was startled to hear the earnest +response to his prayer in their united "Amen!" + +"And that prayer shall ever be offered for you, Charles," said Mrs. +Weston; "I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid. I +shudder to think of what would have happened, had it not been for your +kind, noble, manly friendship. Poor George would have suffered in this +lonely place, away from all who loved him, and without proper care, +perhaps have died--died afoot." + +"You do not know how thankful I feel, Mrs. Weston, that our efforts have +not been in vain. Pray write to me every day, to say how he is going +on--if it is only just one line; and should there be any change for +the--for the better, do let me know at once, that I may come down again, +if only for a day, just to congratulate him." + +"And if there is another change--a change for the worse?" asked Mrs. +Weston, tearfully. + +"Write, telegraph--pray let me know somehow," answered Hardy. "I could +not bear to part with him without telling and showing him there was one +of his old friends who loved him to the last. Good-bye, dear Mrs. +Weston; do not over-tax your strength, and keep up a good heart; depend +upon it, there are yet happy days for you and for George." + +Mrs. Weston sadly missed her young friend after his departure. His +hopeful spirits had helped to buoy up her expectations and assuage the +sorrows of the present. It seemed as if the sun had hidden itself and +the stars had refused their light during those long days when the mother +sat watching at the bedside of her son. Mr. Brunton tried in every way +to relieve her, but his own heart was heavy, and the two felt more at +home in talking dolefully over the bad symptoms of the patient than in +looking forward to the future. + +But a day came when the strength of the fever abated, and reason +returned to her long vacant throne. + +It was toward evening: Mrs. Weston was sitting beside the bed, busily +stitching away at her work, and Mr. Brunton was resting his head upon +his hands as he turned over the pages of a book which he was trying to +deceive himself into the belief he was reading, when a deep sigh caused +them both to suspend their occupation. + +George raised himself up in bed, and gazed round the room. The +furniture screened the two watchers, and he fancied himself alone. He +raised a pillow at his back, and reclining upon it in the placid calm of +exhaustion, with his face turned toward the open window, watched the +clouds as they crossed the blue expanse, and indulged in a half +conscious reverie. Where had he been? Where was he? Had he passed the +dark valley of the shadow of death, and were there angel forms in those +snow-white clouds beckoning him away? What was that confused sound which +rang in his ears? Was it the murmuring of the dark stream as it washed +upon the untrodden shore? + +No: there was the little room where he had taken his lodgings; there was +the green paper on the wall with the large grape clusters; there was the +sound of human voices in the street And the consciousness that he was +alive, restored, flashed upon him with something of the bewildering +astonishment and joy which Lazarus must have felt when he heard the +words, "Come forth." + +Too weak to rise, he was not too weak to pray. Clasping his hands +together, and gazing up into the clear blue sky, from whence all clouds +were now dispersing, he poured out his overflowing heart in +thanksgiving. + +He spoke with God. The tremulous voice gained strength, the power of +faith and hope grew intensified, and he prayed with that love and +fervour which the grateful child of a heavenly Parent can only feel. + +Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton were paralyzed with astonishment; +instinctively they shrank from disturbing that solemn time by coming +forward to speak with George and letting him recognise them; but with a +united impulse, both quietly and solemnly knelt down and joined in the +song of thanksgiving. + +Theirs was joy unspeakable; tears poured down both faces, and hushed +sobs of rejoicing burst from their hearts. All their prayers and earnest +longings had been answered; all their sorrow was turned into joy; and +that Friend of friends, whose delights are with the children of men, had +ordered, according to the tender mercy of His loving heart, all the evil +into overwhelming good. + +Presently the voice ceased; and, exhausted with the effort, George lay +down in calm and blissful tranquillity to sleep. + +As Mrs. Weston rose from her knees, her dress touched a book on the +table, which fell to the ground. George was roused by the sound, and, +trying to draw aside the curtain, said,-- + +"Is that you, Mrs. Murdoch?" + +Mrs. Weston, although dreading the consequences of excitement, could +restrain no longer the yearning of her motherly heart to embrace her +son. + +"No, George, my dearest boy, it is your mother." + +"Mother! mother!" cried George, with the old former-day voice of love +and joy, passionately kissing the face of beaming happiness bent over +him, "Thank God you are here!" + +From that day George began rapidly to improve. The excitement produced +by the discovery that he had been sought and found, instead of doing him +injury, relieved his already-oppressed mind from a weight of care. Every +day brought fresh strength, and as he sat up in bed, carefully propped +up by pillows, with his uncle on one hand and his mother on the other, +he told them all the sorrowful and joyful details of his strange +experiences until the eventful morning when his strength gave way. + +"This is beginning life afresh, in every sense," he said; "here am I, a +poor mortal, almost helpless, just strong enough to know how weak I am; +and before me--if my life is spared--lies an untrodden path. But I begin +my restored life, through God's infinite mercy, with a new inner life; +and He who has given me that, will, I know, freely give me all things +that shall be for my good." + +Mrs. Weston never knew the fulness of joy before those days. Her only +son, in whom all her brightest earthly hopes were centred, had ever been +a source of deep anxiety to her. Her never-ceasing prayer had been that +he might be what he now was--a child of her Father; and in the +realization of her heart's desire she found such joy unspeakable, that +all the cares and troubles of long, weary years seemed as though they +had not been. + +George was soon sufficiently restored to be able to leave his bed and +sit up for a few hours on the sofa. The day for this trial of strength +having been definitely fixed by the doctor, Mrs. Weston wrote at once to +Hardy, inviting him, if he could manage to get away, to come down and +celebrate the event. + +The meeting between the two friends was as joyful as their parting had +been sorrowful. + +"George, my dear old boy," said Hardy, as he shook him by the hand, "it +does my eyesight good to see you again." + +"And it does my heart good to see you, old fellow," replied George, as +he returned the pressure. "You don't know how I have longed for your +coming, that I might tell you how deeply grateful I am to you for all +your brotherly love--" + +"Good-bye, George," said Hardy, taking up his hat and buttoning his +coat; "I won't stay another minute unless you give over talking such +stuff What I've done! Why, if my pup, Gip, were to run away, I should do +for him what I have done for you--no more, no less. So let us drop the +subject, that's a good fellow, and then I'll sit down and chat with +you." + +Never was there a pleasanter chat by any little party than by that which +assembled in Mrs. Murdoch's best parlour that evening. All hearts were +full of thankfulness, and though there were some painful subjects +discussed, yet the joyful ones far more than counterbalanced them. + +Mr. Brunton found out, in the course of the evening, that he had +something very important to do, and probably Mrs. Weston discovered her +assistance was needed as well, for the friends found themselves, after a +while, alone, which was what they both wanted. + +"You have heard, Hardy, of all the strange things that have happened to +me?" George began, hesitatingly. "I should like to be able to tell you +all about them; but, somehow, I don't know how to put such matters into +words." + +"You mean, George, that one great, solemn, joyful event which has made +your life now something worth living for," said Hardy, relieving him of +a difficulty. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know it. The past two +years have been funny ones to both of us. Religion has been ground on +which we have not been able to tread together, as you know: but, thank +goodness, that has all gone by. Now, I must tell you my mind, George," +he continued, in that frank, manly way which was so natural to him; "I +never gave you credit for sincerity when you took up with those strange +notions which were so dangerous to you. I believed then that they were +convenient principles, which might be stretched and made to agree with +the dictates of your inclination. I do not say you did not believe what +you professed, but I always thought that you forced yourself into that +belief by self-deception. Now, wait, don't interrupt me. I know what you +are going to say; but whatever harm you did to others--God only knows +that--I do not think your change in sentiment did any harm to me! For +this reason--I saw you were not straightforward with your own heart, and +I felt sure you slighted that pure and holy religion in which we had +been instructed from childhood, not because in your heart of hearts you +disbelieved it, but because it condemned that course of conduct which +you were pursuing. Now, was it not so?" + +"Yes, Hardy, you are right. I can trace out now the processes of thought +through which I passed, to lead me to think and act as I did; and I +never knew before what a wretchedly poor thing a morally endowed, +intelligent human being is in his own strength. I did not know how weak +I was. I did feel sometimes oppressed with the idea that I was willingly +blindfolding myself--but, somehow, an argument was always at hand to +weigh down this feeling. But tell me why you think my endeavours to make +you believe as I did never did you injury? God grant they may not to +others." + +"Why, when I observed you, as I tell you I did, it was impossible for me +not to be on my guard. Nay, more, this question tormented me daily, 'You +believe George disregards religion, because it condemns him; if you +regard that religion, but do not practise it, does it not condemn you?' +Now this was a home-thrust, George, which I could not parry off. I tried +to determine not to be such a cowardly, mean-spirited creature as to try +and cheat God by pretending to believe Him, and yet fight under false +colours against Him; and so I gave up many of my old habits, and tried +to start afresh. And now, George, you don't know how thankful I am that +you are different to what you were. We have studied many things +together, joined in many plans and purposes; and now I hope we shall be +able to study the highest and best thing in earth or heaven--what God's +will is, and how to do it." + + * * * * * + +That desire became the watchword of their lives. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LIFE IN LONDON *** + +This file should be named 8lfln10.txt or 8lfln10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8lfln11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8lfln10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/8lfln10.zip b/old/8lfln10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b41c4c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8lfln10.zip diff --git a/old/8lfln10h.htm b/old/8lfln10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba70f2d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8lfln10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4910 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Life in London, by Edwin Hodder</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + h1,h2,h3,h4 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-variant: small-caps } + h1,h2 { margin-top: 2em } + li,.smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps } + img { border-style: none } + p {margin: 2em 20% 1em 20%} + ol,ul {margin: 3em 20% 3em 20%} + blockquote {margin: 0em 5% 0em 5%} + hr ( margin: 2em 0% 2em 0% } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + + --> +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of<br /> + Life in London, by Edwin Hodder</h1> + +<pre> +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Life in London + +Author: Edwin Hodder + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9940] +[This file was first posted on November 2, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LIFE IN LONDON *** + + + +</pre> +<center> +<b>E-text prepared by Kevin Handy, Dave Maddock,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</b> +</center> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr width="100%" /> +<p align="center"><img src="front.jpg" alt="[Frontispiece]" /></p> + +<h1>Life In London</h1> + +<h3>Or The</h3> + +<h3>Pitfalls Of A Great City</h3> + +<h2>By Edwin Hodder, Esq.</h2> + +<h4>1890.</h4> + + + + +<h2>Contents.</h2> + +<ol type="upper-roman"> +<li><a href="#1">The Introduction</a></li> +<li><a href="#2">School-Boy Days</a></li> +<li><a href="#3">Starting Well</a></li> +<li><a href="#4">Meeting A School-Fellow</a></li> +<li><a href="#5">A Farce</a></li> +<li><a href="#6">The Lecture</a></li> +<li><a href="#7">Getting On In The World</a></li> +<li><a href="#8">A Test Of Friendship</a></li> +<li><a href="#9">In Exile</a></li> +<li><a href="#10">Making Discoveries</a></li> +<li><a href="#11">The Sick Chamber</a></li> +</ol> + + + +<a name="1"></a> +<h2>Chapter I.</h2> + +<h3>The Introduction.</h3> + +<p>Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street in +Islington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience, +until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon the +panels.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as he +hurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron on +and sleeves tucked up, was busy in her domestic affairs. "Such splendid +news!" repeated George. "I have been down to Mr. Compton's with the +letter Uncle Henry gave me, in which he said I wanted a situation, and +should be glad if Mr. Compton could help me; and, sure enough, I was +able to see him, and he is such a kind, fatherly old gentlemen, mother. +I am sure I shall like him."</p> + +<p>"Well, George, and what did he say!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I've got ever so much to tell you, before I come to that part. The +office, you know, is in Falcon Court, Fleet Street; such a dismal place, +with the houses all crammed together, and a little space in front, not +more than large enough to turn a baker's bread-truck in. All the windows +are of ground glass, as if the people inside were too busy to see out, +or to be seen; and on every door there are lots of names of people who +have their offices there, and some of them are actually right up at the +top storeys of the houses. Well, I found out the name of Mr. Compton, +and I tapped at a door where 'Clerk's Office' was written. I think I +ought not to have tapped, but to have gone in, for somebody said rather +sharply, 'Come in,' and in I went. An old gentleman was standing beside +a sort of counter, with a lot of heavy books on it, and he asked me what +I wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Compton, and had got a letter for +him. He told me to sit down until Mr. Compton was disengaged, and then +he would see me."</p> + +<p>"And what sort of an office was it, George? And who was the old +gentleman? The manager, I suppose!"</p> + +<p>"I think he was, because he seemed to do as he liked, and all the clerks +talked in a whisper while he was there. I had to wait more than +half-an-hour, and I was able to look round and see all that was going +on. It is a large office, and there were ten clerks seated on +uncomfortable high stools, without backs, poring over books and papers. +I don't think I shall like those clerks, they stared at me so rudely, +and I felt so ashamed, because one looked hard at me, and then whispered +to another: and I believe they were saying something about my boots, +which you know, mother, are terribly down at heel, and so I put one foot +over the other, to try and hide them."</p> + +<p>"There was no need of that, George. It did not alter the fact that they +were down at heel; and there is no disgrace in being clothed only as +respectable as we can afford, is there?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit, mother: and I feel so vexed with myself because I knew I +turned red, which made the two clerks smile. But I must go on telling +you what else I saw. The old gentleman seems quite a character—he is +nearly bald, has got no whiskers, wears a big white neckcloth and a tail +coat, and takes snuff every five minutes out of a silver box. Whether he +knows it or not, the clerks are very rude to him: for when he took +snuff, one of them sneezed, or pretended to sneeze, every time, and +another snuffled, as if he were taking snuff too."</p> + +<p>"That certainly does not speak well for the clerks," said Mrs. Weston. +"Old gentlemen do have peculiar ways sometimes, but it is not right for +young people to ridicule them."</p> + +<p>"No, it is not; and I don't like to see people do a thing behind another +one's back they are afraid to do before his face. When the clerks had to +speak to the old gentleman, they were as civil as possible, and said, +'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' to him so meekly, as if they were quite +afraid of him; but after a little while, when he took up his hat and +went out, they all began talking and laughing out loud, although when he +was there, they had only occasionally spoken in low whispers. There was +only one young man, out of the whole lot, who did not join with them, +but kept at his work; and I thought if I got a situation in that office, +I should try and make friends with him."</p> + +<p>"That's right, George. I would rather you should not have a situation at +all, than get mixed up with bad companions. But go on, I am so anxious +to hear what Mr. Compton said."</p> + +<p>"Well, after half-an-hour, I heard a door in the next room close, and a +table-bell touched, and then the old gentleman, who had by this time +returned, went in Presently he came out again, and said Mr. Compton +would see me. Oh, mother! I felt so funny, you don't know. My mouth got +quite dry, my face flushed, and I couldn't think whatever I should say, +I felt just as I did that day at the school examination, when I had to +make one of the prize speeches. But I got all to rights directly I saw +Mr. Compton. He said, 'Good morning to you—be seated,' in such a nice +way, that I felt at home with him at once."</p> + +<p>"And what did you say to him, George?"</p> + +<p>"I had learnt by heart what I was going to say, but in the hurry I had +forgotten every word. So I said, 'My name is—' (it's a wonder I did not +say Norval, for I felt a bit bewildered at the sound of my own voice) +'—my name is George Weston, sir, and I have brought you a letter from +my uncle, Mr. Henry Brunton, who knows you, I think.' 'Oh! yes," he +said, 'he knows me very well; and, if I mistake not, this letter is +about you, for he was talking to me about a nephew the other day.' Isn't +that just like Uncle Henry?—he never said anything about that to us, +but he is so good and kind, we are always finding out some of his +generous actions, about which he never speaks. While Mr. Compton was +reading the letter, I had leisure to look at him, and at his room. He is +such a fine-looking old man, just like that picture we saw in the +Academy, last year, of the village squire. He looks as if he were very +benevolent and kind-hearted, and he dresses just like some of the +country gentlemen, with a dark green coat and velvet collar, a frill +shirt, and a little bit of buf. waistcoat seen under his coat, which he +keeps buttoned. He had got lots of books, and papers, and files about, +and sat hi an arm-chair so cosily—in fact, I should not have thought +that nice carpeted room was really an office, if it had not been for the +ground-glass windows. Just as I was thinking why it was the glorious +sunshine is not admitted into offices, Mr. Compton said—"</p> + +<p>"What did he say, George? I have waited so patiently to hear."</p> + +<p>"He said, 'Well, <i>Mr</i>. Weston,'—(he did really call me Mr. Weston, +mother; I suppose he took me for a young man: it is evident he did not +know I was wearing a stick-up shirt collar for the first time in my +life)—'I have read this letter, and am inclined to think I may be able +to do something for you.' That put my 'spirits up,' as poor father used +to say; and I said, 'I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.' So then he told me +that he wanted a junior clerk in his office, who could write quickly, be +brisk at accounts, and make himself generally useful, as the +advertisements in the <i>Times</i> say. I told him I could do all these +things; and he passed me a sheet of paper, to give him a specimen of my +handwriting. I hardly knew what to write, but I fixed upon a passage of +Scripture, 'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the +Lord.' My hand was so shaky, that all the letters with tails to them had +the queerest flourishes you ever saw. Mr. Compton smiled when I handed +him the sheet of paper—I don't know whether it was at the writing, or +at the quotation, and I wished I had written a passage from Seneca +instead!"</p> + +<p>"You did not feel ashamed at having written a part of God's word, did +you, George?"</p> + +<p>"No, not ashamed, mother; but I thought it was not business-like, and +seemed too much like a schoolboy."</p> + +<p>"I think it was very business-like. It would convey the idea that you +would seek to do your business from the best and highest motives. But +what did Mr. Compton say?"</p> + +<p>"He only said he thought the handwriting was good. Then he told me that +he would take me as his clerk, and should expect me to be at my post +next Monday morning, at nine o'clock. 'And now,' he said, 'we must fix +upon a salary; and as your uncle has told me that you are anxious to +maintain yourself, I will give you a weekly sum sufficient for that +purpose; and if you give me satisfaction, I will raise it yearly.' And +what do you think he offered me, mother?"</p> + +<p>"I really do not know; perhaps, as you are young, and have never been in +a situation before, he said five shillings a week, although I did not +think you would get any salary at all for the first six months."</p> + +<p>"No, mother, more than five shillings; guess again," said George, his +face shining with excited delight.</p> + +<p>"Then I will guess seven and sixpence a week," said his mother, +doubtfully, for she thought she had gone too high.</p> + +<p>"More than that, mother; guess only once more, for I cannot keep it in +if you are not very quick."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall say ten shillings a week, George; but I am afraid I have +guessed too much."</p> + +<p>"No, mother, under the mark again. I am to have ten shillings and +sixpence—half a guinea a week! Isn't that splendid? Only fancy, Mr. +George Weston, Junior Clerk to Mr. Compton, at half-a-guinea a week! My +fortune is made; and, depend upon it, mother, we shall get on in the +world now, first-rate. Why, I shall only want—say, half-a-crown a week +for myself, and then there will be all the rest for you. Now don't you +think blind-eyed Fortune must have dropped her bandage this morning, and +have spied me out?"</p> + +<p>"No, George; but I think that kind Providence; which has always smiled +upon us when we have been in the greatest difficulties, has once more +shown us that all our ways are in the hands of One who doeth all things +well."</p> + +<p>"So do I, mother; and I do hope that this success, which has attended my +journey this morning, may turn out to our real good. I feel it will—we +shall be able to go on now so swimmingly, and I shall be getting a +footing in the world, so that by-and-bye we shan't have a single debt, +or a single care, and you will be growing younger as fast as I grow +older: and then, after a time, we will get a little house in the +country, and finish up our days the happiest couple in the British +dominions."</p> + +<p>For the remainder of that day, poor George was in a regular whirl of +excitement. A thousand schemes were afloat in his mind about the future, +of the most improbable kind. His income of half-a-guinea a week was to +do wonders, which were never accomplished by half a score of guineas. +He speculated about the rise in his salary at the end of the year, which +he was determined, if it rested upon his own industry, should not be +less than a pound a week; and then he forgot the first year, and +commenced calculating what he could do, with his increased salary, till, +at last, worn out with scheming, he said,—</p> + +<p>"Money is a great bother, after all, mother. I've been calculating all +this day how we can spend my salary; and I am really more perplexed than +if Mr. Compton had said I should not have anything for the first six +months. I can't make ends meet if I attempt to do what I have planned, +that's very certain; so I shall quietly wait till the first Saturday +night comes, and I feel the half-guinea in my hand, and then I shall +better realize what it is worth."</p> + +<p>That was a pleasant evening Mrs. Weston and George spent together in +discussing the events of the day, and when it became time to separate +for the night, she said—</p> + +<p>"This is one of the happiest days we have spent for a long time, George. +How your poor father would have enjoyed sharing it with us!" and the +widow sighed.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said George, "I have thought of poor father so many times +to-day, and I have formed a resolution which I mean to try and keep. He +was a good man. I don't think he ever did anything really wrong—and I +recollect so well what he used to tell me, when I was a boy"—(George +had jumped into manhood in a day, he fancied)—"I mean to take him for a +model; and if I find myself placed in dangers and difficulties, I shall +always ask myself, 'What would father have done if he had been in this +case?' and then I should try and do as he would."</p> + +<p>"May you have strength given to you, my deal boy, to carry out every +good resolution! But remember, there is a model which must be taken even +before that of your father. I mean the pure, sinless example of our +Lord; follow this, and adhere to the plain directions of God's word, and +you cannot go wrong. And now, good night; God bless you, my son!"</p> + +<p>It was a long time before George went to sleep; again and again the +events of the day came to his memory, and he travelled in thought far +into the future, peering through the mist which hung over unborn time, +and weighing circumstances which might never have a being.</p> + +<p>"I shall be quite accustomed to my duties by next Monday," he said to +his mother in the morning; "for I was all night long busy in the office, +counting money, posting books, and when I awoke I was just signing a +deed of partnership in the name of Compton and Weston."</p> + + + + +<a name="2"></a> +<h2>Chapter II.</h2> + +<h3>School-Boy Days.</h3> + +<p>George Weston was an only son, and, at the time our story commences, was +nearly seventeen years of age. His early years had been spent at home, +under the watchful care of kind and good parents. When he was ten years +old he was sent to a boarding school at Folkestone, and placed in the +charge of Dr. Seaward, a good man, who superintended his education, and, +besides imparting secular instruction, endeavoured to train his +character and make him good as well as clever. George was a sharp, +shrewd boy, a keen observer, who would know the why and the wherefore of +everything, and his lessons always came to him more as an amusement than +a task. He had a horror of being low down in his class, and if he did +not retain his place at the top, it was rarely through inattention or +want of study on his part.</p> + +<p>George was a great favourite with the whole school; he was a merry, +joyous fellow, who always had sunshine in his face and a kind word on +his lips; a ringleader in any harmless fun, and a champion on the side +of all the younger boys who met with oppression or injustice from the +elder classes. At cricket or football, swimming or boating, George had +few superiors; and as he was one of those boys who seem determined, +whatever they do, to do it with all their might, he went heart and soul +into all the spoils with such a zest and earnestness that he acquired +the name of the "Indefatigable." Nor did this name merely apply to his +zeal in sports. There was not in the whole school a more diligent +student than George: there was for him "a time to work and a time to +play," and he never allowed one to trespass upon the other. He would +rather go without a game at cricket for a fortnight than be behindhand +in one of his lessons. The boys would laugh at him for this, but George +could bear to be laughed at on such points, because he knew he was in +the right. "I came to school to learn," he would say, "and I don't see +any fun in making my parents pay heavy fees for me every year to play +cricket at the expense of study." Every boy knew there was wisdom in +this, and they secretly admired George for it, although it condemned +their own conduct, more especially when they had to go to him not +unfrequently, and say, "Weston, I shall get in a scrape with these +lessons to-morrow, unless you can help me a bit with them. Do give me a +leg up, that's a good fellow!" and though George never said "No," he did +sometimes take an opportunity to say, "If you did not waste so much time +in play, you might be independent of any help that I can give."</p> + +<p>It was a source of great pleasure to his parents to hear from time to +time, through Dr. Seaward, some good account of his conduct; and when he +returned home at the holiday seasons, generally laden with prizes which +he had victoriously borne off, they did not feel a little proud of their +only son.</p> + +<p>George remained at the school at Folkestone for five years, during which +time he rose from the lowest to the highest form. It was the intention +of his parents then to place him in a college for a year or two, in +order to give him in opportunity to complete his education, and have the +means to make a good start in life. But this purpose was frustrated by +an event which happened only a month before George was to have been +removed.</p> + +<p>One day, when all the boys were out in the playfield, busily engaged in +marking out boundaries for a game at hockey, Dr. Seaward was seen coming +from the house towards the field. This was an unusual event, as he +rarely interfered with them during play hours. "Something's up," said +the boys; and waited expectantly until the Doctor came up to them.</p> + +<p>"Call George Weston," said he; "I want to speak to him."</p> + +<p>"Weston! George Weston!" shouted one or two at once; and George came +running up, nothing abashed, for he knew he had done nothing wrong.</p> + +<p>"George," said the Doctor, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to +come with me; I have something to tell you;" and they walked together +away from the field.</p> + +<p>"What is it, sir? You look pained: I hope I have done nothing to offend +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, George," replied the Doctor; "few lads have ever given me so little +cause of offence at any time as you have. But I <i>am</i> pained. I have some +sad news to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Sad news for me, sir? Oh, do tell me at once. Is anything the matter at +home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, George; a messenger has just arrived to say that your father has +met with a serious accident; he has been thrown from his chaise, and is +much hurt. The messenger is your uncle, Mr. Brunton; and he desires you +to return at once to London with him."</p> + +<p>George waited to hear no more; he bounded away from the Doctor, cleared +the fence which enclosed the garden at a leap, and rushed into the room +where Mr. Brunton was anxiously awaiting him. No tear stood in his eye; +but he was dreadfully pale, and his hands trembled like aspen leaves. +"Oh, uncle!" was all he could say; and, throwing himself into a chair, +he covered his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Come, George, my boy," said Mr. Brunton, tenderly; "do not give way to +distress. Your poor father is seriously hurt, but he is yet alive. We +have just half an hour to catch the train."</p> + +<p>That was enough for George; in a moment he was calm and collected, ran +up to his room to make a few hasty arrangements, and in five minutes was +again with his uncle prepared for the journey.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Dr. Seaward," he said as he left the house.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, my young friend," said the kind-hearted Doctor; "and +grant that you may find His providence better than your fears."</p> + +<p>George thought he had never known the train go so slowly as it did +during that long, wearisome journey to London. At last it arrived at +the terminus, and then, jumping into a cab, they were hurried away +towards Stamford Hill as quickly as the horse could travel.</p> + +<p>"Now, George," said Mr. Brunton, as they came near their journey's end, +"we know not what may have happened while we have been coming here. Be a +man, and recollect there is one who suffers more than you."</p> + +<p>"Do not fear, uncle. I will not add to my mother's grief," was all he +could reply.</p> + +<p>We will not pry into that interview between mother and son when they +first met; there is a grief too solemn for a stranger's eye.</p> + +<p>Mr. Weston was still alive, and that was all that could be said. The +doctors had pronounced his case beyond human skill, and had intimated +that there were but a few hours for him on earth.</p> + +<p>As George stood beside the bed of his dying father, the tears which had +been long pent up came pouring thick and fast down his cheek.</p> + +<p>"Don't give way to sorrow, George," said his father, in a low voice, for +he had difficulty in speaking; "it will be only a little while before we +meet again; for what is life but a vapour, which soon vanisheth away?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, it is so sudden, so sudden!" sobbed George.</p> + +<p>"Therefore, my boy, remember that at all times there is but a step +between us and death; and if for us to live is Christ, then to die is +gain. Make that your motto through life, my dear boy, 'For me to live is +Christ.'"</p> + +<p>That night the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken, and +the spirit of Mr. Weston returned to God who gave it. "Precious in the +eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints."</p> + +<p>Never did a mother more realize the joy of possessing the unbounded love +of an affectionate son, than did Mrs. Weston during those melancholy +days between the death and the funeral of her husband, "Cheer up, dear +mother," he would say; "God is the father of the fatherless, and the +husband of the widow, and did not <i>He</i> say 'to die is gain'?"</p> + +<p>George and Mr. Brunton followed the remains of the good man to their +last resting-place; and then the body was lowered to the grave "in the +sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection."</p> + +<p>Mr. Weston had not been a rich man, nor had he been a far-seeing, +provident man. He had moved in comfortable circumstances, with an income +only sufficient to pay his way in the world, and had made but scanty +provision for the future. At the time of his sudden death, his affairs +were in anything but a satisfactory state; and it was found that it +would be impossible for his widow to live in the same comfortable style +she had formerly done.</p> + +<p>After all his accounts were wound up, it was seen that she would only +have a sufficient sum of money, even if invested in the best possible +manner, to keep her in humble circumstances. She determined therefore to +leave her house at Stamford Hill, and take a smaller one in Islington, +and let some of the rooms to boarders.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton acted the part of a kind brother in all her difficulties; he +was never wearied in advising her, and on him principally devolved all +the necessary arrangements for her removal. Everything he did was with +such delicacy and refinement that, although his hand was daily and +hourly felt, it was never seen.</p> + +<p>One evening, shortly before leaving the locality in which they had lived +so many years, George and his mother walked together to the cemetery +where Mr. Weston had been buried, to pay a farewell visit to that +hallowed spot. They had been too much reduced in circumstances to have a +stone placed over the grave where he lay, and they were talking about it +as they journeyed along, saying, how the very first money they could +afford should be expended for that purpose. What was their surprise to +find a handsome stone raised above the spot, bearing these words:—</p> + +<p align="center"><i>Sacred to the Memory of</i><br /> +MR. GEORGE WESTON,<br /> +Who departed this life, Feb. 18th, 18—, aged 46 years.</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p align="center">"For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."</p> + +<p>Tears of grateful joy stood in their eyes as they recognized another +token of the kind, tender love of Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>The bereavement and change of fortune were borne by the widow with that +fortitude which is only shown by the true Christian. It was hard, very +hard, to begin the world again; to be denied the pleasure of allowing +George to go to college and complete his studies; and to bear the +struggles and inconveniences of poverty. But Mrs. Weston knew that vain +regrets would never alter the case; the Lord had given, the Lord had +taken away, and from her heart she could say cheerfully, "Blessed be +the name of the Lord."</p> + +<p>George had not been idle. Every hour in which he was not occupied for or +with his mother, he was diligently engaged in prosecuting his studies, +and preparing himself for the time when he should be able to procure a +situation. Mr. Brunton had not been anxious for him to enter upon one at +once; he knew how lonely the widow would be without her son, and +therefore he did not take any steps to obtain for George a situation. +But when a twelvemonth had passed, and the keenness of sorrow had worn +off, he mentioned the matter to his friend Mr. Compton; with what +success we have seen in the first chapter.</p> + + + + +<a name="3"></a> +<h2>Chapter III.</h2> + +<h3>Starting Well.</h3> + +<p>Never did days drag along more heavily than those which elapsed between +the interview with Mr. Compton, and the morning when George was to enter +upon his new duties. Every day the office was a subject of much +conversation; and neither George nor his mother ever seemed to weary in +talking over his plans and purposes. George wrote a long letter to Mr. +Brunton, telling him of the successful issue of his application to Mr. +Compton, and thanking him in the most hearty way for all his kindness. +The next day Mr. Brunton replied to George's letter as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"MY DEAR NEPHEW,</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to hear that you have obtained an appointment, and that +you seem so well satisfied with your prospects. May you find it to be +for your good in every way. Remember, you are going into new scenes, and +will be surrounded with many dangers and temptations to which you have +hitherto been a stranger. Seek to be strong against everything that is +evil; aim at the highest mark, and press towards it. Much of your future +depends upon how you begin—therefore begin well; hold yourself aloof +from everything with which your conscience tells you you should not be +associated, and then all your bright dreams may, I hope, be fully +realized.</p> + +<p>"I shall hope to be with you for an hour or two on Sunday evening.</p> + +<p>"You will have some unavoidable expenses to incur before entering upon +your duties, and will require a little pocket-money. Accept the enclosed +cheque, with the love of</p> + +<p align="right">"Your affectionate Uncle,<br /> +"HENRY BRUNTON."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>George's eyes sparkled with delight as he read the letter; and found the +enclosure to be a cheque for five pounds. This was a great treasure and +relief to him, for he had thought many times about his boots, which were +down at heel, and his best coat, which shone a good deal about the +elbows, and showed symptoms of decay in the neighbourhood of the +button-holes.</p> + +<p>A new suit of clothes and a pair of boots were therefore purchased at +once, and when Sunday morning came, and George dressed himself in them, +and stood ready to accompany his mother to the house of God, she thought +(although, of course, she did not say so) that she had never seen a more +handsome and gentlemanly-looking youth than her son.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said George, as they walked along, "what a treat the Sunday +will always be now, after being pent up in the office all the week. I +shall look forward to it with such pleasure, not only for the sake of +its rest, but because I shall have a whole day with you."</p> + +<p>"The Sabbath is, indeed, a boon," replied Mrs. Weston, "when it is made +a rest-day for the soul, as well as for the body. You remember those +lines I taught you, when you were quite another fellow, before you went +to school, do you not?—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"'A Sunday well spent brings a week of content<br /> + And health for the toils of the morrow;<br /> +But a Sabbath profaned, whatsoe'er may be gained,<br /> + Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'"</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Yes, mother, I remember them; and capital lines they are. Dr. Seaward +once said, 'Strike the key-note of your tune incorrectly, and the whole +song will be inharmonious;' so, if the Sabbath is improperly spent, the +week will generally be like it."</p> + +<p>That morning the preacher took for his text the beautiful words in +Isaiah xli. 10, "Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed, for +I am thy God: I will strengthen thee—yea, I will help thee yea, I will +uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." These words came +like the sound of heavenly music into the soul of the widow; and she +prayed, with the fervency a mother alone can pray for a beloved and only +son, that the time might speedily come when he would be able to +appropriate these words, and realize, in the true sense of the term, God +as his Father. For George, although he had from early infancy been +brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and had learnt to +love holiness from so constantly seeing its beauty exemplified by his +parents, had not yet undergone that one great change which creates the +soul anew in Christ Jesus.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton arrived in the evening, just as Mrs. Weston and George were +starting out to the second service, and so they all went together to the +same place. The minister, an excellent man, who felt the responsibility +of his office, and took every opportunity of doing good, was in the +habit of giving four sermons a year especially to young men, and it so +happened that on this evening one of these discourses was to be +delivered. Nothing could have been more appropriate to a young man just +starting out in life than his address. The text was taken from those +solemn, striking words of the wise man, "My son, if sinners entice +thee, consent thou not."</p> + +<p>He spoke of the powerful influences continually at work to allure young +travellers along life's journey into the snares and pitfalls of sin, and +pointed to God's armoury, and the refuge from all the wiles of the +adversary.</p> + +<p>As the trio sat round the supper-table that evening, discussing the +events of the day, George said—</p> + +<p>"I feel very glad that this Sunday has come before I go to Mr. +Compton's. I thought, when the text was given out this evening, that the +minister had prepared his sermon especially for me. I have no doubt all +he said was quite true; and so, being prepared, I shall be able to be on +my guard against the evils which he says are common to those who make +their first start in life."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Brunton rose to leave that night, he took George aside; and, +laying his hand on his shoulder, said—</p> + +<p>"George, I am glad you have got your appointment, my boy; but I am +sorry, for some reasons, that it is in Mr. Compton's office, for I have +made inquiries about the clerks there, and I regret to find that they +are not the set of young men I should have liked you to be with. Now, I +want you to make me a promise. If ever you are placed in critical +circumstances, or dangers, or difficulties (I say <i>if</i>, because I do not +know why you should, but <i>if</i> you are), be sure and come to me. Tell me, +as you always have done, honestly and openly, your difficulty, and you +will always find in me one willing to advise and assist you. Will you +promise?"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart I will, uncle; and thank you, too, for this, and all +your interests on my account."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, then, George. Go on and prosper; and God bless you."</p> + +<p>Punctually at nine o'clock on Monday morning, George was at the office. +Mr. Sanders, the manager (the old gentleman whom George had seen on his +first visit), introduced him to the clerks by saying—</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. George Weston, our new junior;" and George, with his face +all aglow, made a general bow in return to the salutations which were +given him.</p> + +<p>"This is to be your seat," said Mr. Sanders; "and that peg is for your +hat. And now, as you would, no doubt, like to begin at once, here is a +document I want copied."</p> + +<p>George was glad to have something to do; he felt all eyes were upon him, +and the whispered voices of the clerks rather grated upon his ears. He +took up his pen, and began to write; but he found his hand shaky, and he +was so confused that, after he had written half a page, and found he had +made two or three blunders, he was obliged to take a fresh sheet, and +begin again.</p> + +<p>"Take your time," said Mr. Sanders, who noticed his dilemma; "you will +get on right enough by-and-bye, when you are more accustomed to the +place and the work."</p> + +<p>George felt relieved by this; and making up his mind to try and forget +all around him, he set to work busily again, and in an hour or two had +finished the job.</p> + +<p>"I have done this, sir," he said, taking it to Mr. Sanders. "What shall +I do next?"</p> + +<p>"We will just examine it, and then you may take it into Mr. Compton's +room. After that you can go and get your dinner, and be back again in an +hour."</p> + +<p>The document was examined, and, to the surprise of George and Mr. +Sanders, not one mistake was found. "Come, this is beginning well," said +the manager; "we shall soon make a clerk of you, I see."</p> + +<p>When George went into Mr. Compton's room, and presented the papers, he +was again rewarded with an encouraging commendation. "This is very well +written—very well written indeed, and shows great painstaking," he +said.</p> + +<p>George felt he could have shaken hands with both principal and manager +for those few words. "How cheap a kind word is," he thought, "to those +who give it; but it is more precious than gold to the receiver. I like +these two men; and, if I can manage it, they shall like me too."</p> + +<p>George had not as yet exchanged a word with any of the clerks; but as he +was leaving the office to go to dinner, one of them was going out at the +same time, on the same errand.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Weston, you find it precious dull, don't you, cooped up in +your den?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean the office?" said George.</p> + +<p>"Yes; what else should I mean?"</p> + +<p>"It seems a comfortable office enough," said George, "and not +particularly dull; but I have not had sufficient experience in it to +judge."</p> + +<p>"You see, that old ogre (I beg his pardon, I mean old Sanders) takes +jolly good care there shall be no flinching from work while he's there, +and it makes a fellow deuced tired, pegging away all day long."</p> + +<p>"If this is a specimen of the clerks," thought George, "Uncle Brunton +was not far wrong when he said they were not a very good set."</p> + +<p>"From what I have seen of Mr. Sanders," he said, "I think him a very +nice man! and as for work, I always thought that was what clerks were +engaged to do, and therefore it is their duty to do it, whether under +the eye of the manager or not."</p> + +<p>George got this sentence out with some difficulty. He felt it was an +aggressive step, and did not doubt it would go the round of the office +as a tale against him.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" said the clerk; "you've got a thing or two to learn yet, I see. +You must surely be fresh and green from the country; but such notions +soon die out. I don't like to be personal though, so we'll change the +subject. Where are you going to dine? Most of our chaps patronize the +King's Head—first-rate place; get anything you like in two twinklings +of a lamb's tail. I'm going there now; will you go? By the way, I should +have told you before this that my name is Williams."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, Mr. Williams,' the King's Head is a tavern? If so, I prefer +a coffee-house; but thank you, notwithstanding, for your offer."</p> + +<p>"By George! that's a rum start. Our chaps all hate coffee-shops, with +the exception of young Hardy, and he's coming round to our tastes now. +You can get a good feed at the King's Head—stunning tackle in the shape +of beer, and meet a decent set of fellows who know how to crack a joke +at table; whereas, if you go to a coffee-shop, you have an ugly slice of +meat set before you, a jorum of tea leaves and water, or some other +mess, and a disagreeable set of people around. Now, which is best?"</p> + +<p>"Your description is certainly unfavourable in the latter case; but I do +not suppose all coffeehouses are alike, and therefore I shall try one +to-day. Good morning."</p> + +<p>George soon found a nice-looking quiet place where he could dine, and +felt sure he had no need to go to taverns for better accommodation.</p> + +<p>When he returned to the office, at two o'clock, Mr. Sanders was absent, +and the clerks were busily engaged, not at work, but in conversation. +Mr. Williams was the principal speaker, and seemed to have something +very choice to communicate. George made no doubt that he was the subject +of conversation, for he had caught one or two words as he entered, which +warranted the supposition. He had nothing to do until Mr. Sanders +returned; this was an opportunity, therefore, for Mr. Williams to make +himself officious.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston," he said, "allow me to do the honours of the office by +introducing you, in a more definite manner than that old ——, I mean +than Mr. Sanders did this morning. This gentleman is Mr. Lawson, this is +Mr. Allwood, this is Mr. Malcolm, and this my young friend, Mr. Charles +Hardy, who is of a serious turn of mind, and is meditating entering the +ministry, or the undertaking line."</p> + +<p>A laugh at Hardy's expense was the result of this attempt at jocularity +on the part of Mr. Williams. George hardly knew how to acknowledge these +introductions; but, turning to Charles Hardy, he said,—</p> + +<p>"As Mr. Williams has so candidly mentioned your qualities, Mr. Hardy, +perhaps you will favour me with a description of his."</p> + +<p>Hardy rose from his seat, for up to this time he had been engaged in +writing, and, in a tone of mock gravity, replied,</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Williams, who lives at the antipodes of everything that is +quiet or serious, whose mission to the earth seems expressly to turn +everything he touches into a laugh. He is not a 'youth to fortune and +to fame unknown,' for in the archives of the King's Head his name is +emblazoned in imperishable characters."</p> + +<p>"Well said, Hardy!" said one or two at once. "Now, Williams, you are on +your mettle, old boy; stand true to your colours, and transmute the +sentence into a joke in self-defence."</p> + +<p>Williams was on the point of replying when Mr. Sanders entered. In an +instant all the clerks pretended to be up to their eyes in business; +each had his book or papers to hand as if by magic; whether upside down +or not was immaterial.</p> + +<p>But George Weston stood where he was; he could not condescend to so mean +an imposition, and he felt pleased to see that Charles Hardy, unlike the +others, made no attempt to hide the fact that he had been engaged in +conversation, instead of continuing at his work.</p> + +<p>At six o'clock the day's duties were over; and George felt not a little +pleased when the hour struck, and Mr. Sanders told him he could go. +Hardy was leaving just at the same time, and so they went out together.</p> + +<p>"Are you going anywhere in my direction?" said Hardy; "I live at +Canonbury."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" replied George; "I'm glad to hear that, for I live at +Islington, close by you. If you are willing, we will bear one another +company, for I want to ask you one or two questions;" and taking Hardy's +arm, the two strolled homewards together.</p> + +<p>Now George would never have thought of walking arm in-arm with Mr. +Williams, or any of the other clerks; but, from the first time he saw +Hardy, and noticed his quiet, gentlemanly manners, he felt sure he +should like him. Hardy, too, had evidently taken a fancy to George; and +therefore both felt pleased that accident had brought them together. +Accident? No, that is a wrong word; whenever a heart feels that there is +another heart beating like its own, and those two hearts go out one +towards the other, until they become knit together in the bonds of +friendship, there is something more than accident in that.</p> + +<p>"How long have you been in Mr. Compton's office?" said George, as they +walked along,</p> + +<p>"Nearly two years," he replied; "I went there as soon as I left school. +I was then about seventeen years old; and there I have been ever since."</p> + +<p>"Then you are my senior by two years," said George. "I left school a +year ago, and this is my first situation. How do you like the office?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean my particular seat, the clerks, or the duties, or all +combined?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to know how you like the whole combined."</p> + +<p>"I prefer my desk to yours, because I sit next to Mr. Malcolm, who is +one of the steadiest and most respectable clerks in the office; and +therefore I am not subject to so much annoyance as you will be, seated +next to that empty-headed Williams, and coarse low-minded Lawson. I do +not really like any of the clerks; there are none of them the sort of +young men I should choose as companions. As to the duties, they are +agreeable enough, and I have nothing to find fault with on that score."</p> + +<p>"I tell you candidly," said George, "I am not prepossessed in favour of +the clerks; they are far too 'fast' a set to please me; but I am very +glad, for my own sake, that you are in the office, Mr. Hardy."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because, although we are almost strangers at present, I know I shall +find in you some one who will be companionable. You don't seem very +thick with the others; you don't join with them in that mean practice of +shirking work directly Mr. Sanders's back is turned; and you don't, from +what I have heard, approve of the society at the King's Head, in which +the others seem to take so much delight. Now, in these points, I think, +our tastes are similar."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Mr. Weston," said Hardy, "you will find, as I have done, that +amongst such a set we are obliged to allow a great many things we do not +approve. But I'm very glad you have come amongst us; unity is strength, +you know, and two can make a better opposition than one. Now, will you +let me give you a hint?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said George.</p> + +<p>"Be on your guard with Lawson and Williams; they are two dangerous young +men, and can do no end of mischief, because they are double-faced—sneaking +sometimes, and bullying at others. I don't know whether you have heard +that you are filling a vacancy caused by one of our clerks leaving the +office in disgrace. It is not worth while my telling you the story now, +but that poor chap would never have left in the way he did, had it not +been for Lawson and Williams."</p> + +<p>"Many thanks, Mr. Hardy, for your information and advice, upon which I +will endeavour to act. And now, as our roads lay differently, we must +say good evening."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, then, till to-morrow," said Hardy. "By-the-bye, I pass this +road in the morning, at half-past eight; if you are here we will walk to +the office together."</p> + +<p>It took George the whole of the evening to give his mother a full +account of the day's proceedings; there were so many questions to ask on +her part, and so many descriptions to give on his, and such a number of +events occurred during the day, that it seemed as if he had at least a +week's experience to narrate.</p> + +<p>"I like Hardy, mother," said George, once or twice during the evening; +"he is such a thorough open-hearted fellow, and I know we shall get +along together capitally."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, my boy," said his mother; "but be very careful how you form +any other friendships."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Western retired to her room for the night, it was not to +sleep. She felt anxious and uneasy about George; she thought of him as +the loving, gentle child, the merry, light-hearted boy, and the manly, +conscientious youth. Then she thought of the future. How would he stand +against the evil influences surrounding him? Would his frank, ingenuous +manner change, and the confidence he always reposed in her cease? Would +he be led away by the gay and thoughtless young men with whom he would +be associated?</p> + +<p>Tears gathered in the widow's eyes, and many a sigh sounded in that +quiet room; but Mrs. Weston had a Friend at hand, to whom she could go +and pour out all her anxieties. She would cast her burden on Him, for +she knew He cared for her. As she knelt before the mercy-seat, these +were her prayers:—</p> + +<p>"Lord, create in him a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within him. +May he remember Thee in the days of his youth. Heavenly Father, lead him +not into temptation, but deliver him from evil Guide him by Thy counsel, +and lead him in the paths of righteousness, for Thy Name's sake."</p> + + + + +<a name="4"></a> +<h2>Chapter IV.</h2> + +<h3>Meeting A School-Fellow.</h3> + +<p>Six months passed rapidly away. George continued to give satisfaction to +Mr. Compton, soon learnt the office routine, and earned the warmest +expressions of approbation from Mr. Sanders, who said he was the best +junior clerk he ever remembered to have entered that office.</p> + +<p>George had carefully guarded against forming any kind of intimacy with +the other clerks; he had declined to have more to say to them during +office hours than possible, and when business was over he purposely +shunned them. But a strong friendship had sprung up between him and +Charles Hardy; every morning they came to the city together, and +returned in company in the evening. Sometimes George would spend an +evening at the house of Hardy's parents, and Hardy, in like manner, +would occasionally spend an evening with George.</p> + +<p>Williams and Lawson had, as Hardy predicted, been a source of great +annoyance to George. He was constantly obliged to bear their ridicule +because he would not conform to their habits, and sometimes the insults +he received were almost beyond his power of endurance. He and Hardy +received the name of the "Siamese youths," and were generally greeted +with such salutations as "How d'ye do? Is mamma pretty well?"—or +something equally galling. But George bore it all with exemplary +patience, and he did not doubt that after a while they would grow tired +of annoying him. At all events, he felt certain some new policy would be +adopted by them; for he had so risen in the estimation of his employer, +who began to repose confidence in him, and entrust him with more +important matters than he allowed the others to interfere with, that +George anticipated the time when the clerks would either be glad to +curry favour with him, or at least have to acknowledge that he was +regarded more highly than they were.</p> + +<p>So matters went on. Mrs. Weston was full of joy as she saw how well +George had kept his resolutions, and full of hope that he would continue +as he had begun.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton had given him many kind encouragements during this time, and +had felt himself well rewarded for all his trouble on George's behalf +by hearing from Mr. Compton of the satisfaction his services had given.</p> + +<p>And now an event occurred, simple and unimportant in itself, and yet it +was one that affected the whole of George's after-life.</p> + +<p>One evening, as he was leaving the office, and had just turned into +Fleet-street, a nice-looking, fashionably-dressed young man came running +up, and, clapping him on the shoulder, exclaimed,</p> + +<p>"What! George Weston, my old pippin, who ever thought of turning you up +in London!"</p> + +<p>"Harry Ashton! my old school-chum, how are you?" and the two friends +shook hands with a heartiness that surprised the passers-by.</p> + +<p>"Where ever have you been to, all these long years, George?" said Aston; +"only fancy, we have never seen each other since that day we were +playing hockey at dear old Dr. Seaward's, and you were hastily called +away to London. The Doctor told us the sad news, and we all felt for you +deeply, old fellow; in fact I never recollect the place having been so +gloomy before or since."</p> + +<p>"It was a sad time for me," said George; "and after that I lived at home +for a twelvemonth. Then I got an appointment in an office in +Falcon-court, and have held it just six months. Now, tell me where you +have sprung from, and where you have been since I last saw you?"</p> + +<p>"I stayed only six months longer at Dr. Seaward's and was then articled +to a surveyor in the Strand, with whom I have been nearly a year, and +now I am bound for my lodgings, and you must come with me."</p> + +<p>"You had better come with me," said George; "my mother will be so +pleased to welcome an old school-fellow of mine, and she is not +altogether a stranger to you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, old fellow," replied Ashton; "I shall be very glad to accept +your invitation some other night; but, after our long separation, we +want to have a quiet, confidential chat over old times together, and I +must introduce you to my crib. I am a bachelor—all alone in my glory. +The old folks still live in the country, and I boarded at first in a +family; but that that was terribly slow work, and since that time I have +hung out on my own hook. So come along, George; I really can't hear any +excuse."</p> + +<p>George hesitated only a moment; he had never spent an evening from home +without first acquainting his mother; but this was an unusual event, +and he was so anxious to hear about Dr. Seaward, and talk over old +school days, the temptation was irresistible.</p> + +<p>Harry Ashton called a cab, much to George's surprise, into which they +jumped; and were not very long in getting into the Clapham road, where +they alighted before a large, nice looking house.</p> + +<p>"This is the crib," said Ashton, as he ushered George into a large +parlour, handsomely furnished with everything contributing to comfort +and amusement. "Now, make yourself at home. Here are some cigars +(producing a box of Havannahs), and here (opening a cellaret) is bottled +beer and wine; which shall it be?"</p> + +<p>"As to smoking, that is a bad habit, or an art (which you like) I have +never yet practised," said George; "but I will join you in a glass of +wine just to toast 'Dr. Seaward and our absent friends in the school.'"</p> + +<p>Then the two school friends fell into conversation. Many and many a +happy recollection came into their minds, and one long yarn was but the +preface to another.</p> + +<p>"Come, George, fill up your glass," said Ashton repeatedly; but George +declined.</p> + +<p>Two or three hours slipped rapidly away, and then George rose to leave. +"Not a bit of it, George," said Ashton; "we must have some supper and +discuss present times yet. I have not heard particulars of what you are +doing, or how you are getting on, and you only know I'm here, without +any of the history about it."</p> + +<p>So George yielded: how could he help it? Harry Ashton had become his +bosom-chum during the five years he had been at school, and all the old +happy memories of those days were again fresh upon him.</p> + +<p>"Now, George, tell your story first, and then mine shall follow." Then +George narrated all the leading circumstances which had attended his +life, from the time he left school up to that very evening, and a long +story it was.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Ashton, "for mine. When you left Folkestone I got up to your +place at the head of the school, and there I held on till I left. Six +months after you left, the holidays came, and I came up to town. I spent +a few days with Mr. Ralston, an old friend of the family, and one of the +first engineers and surveyors in London. He took a liking to me, offered +to take me into his office, wrote to the governor (I know you don't like +that term, though—I mean my father), proposed a sum as premium, +arrangements were made; and, instead of returning to school, I came to +London and commenced learning the arts and mysteries of a profession. I +had only been with Mr. Ralston two or three months, when one morning my +father came into the office, out of wind with excitement, and said, +'Harry, I have got sad and joyful, and wonderful news for you! Poor old +Mr. Cornish is dead; the will has been opened, and—make up your mind +for a surprise—the bulk of his property is left to you.' I was +thunderstruck. I knew the old gentleman would leave me something, but I +did not know that he had quarrelled with his relatives, and therefore +appropriated to me the share originally intended for them. So, you see, +I have stepped into luck's way. I am allowed an income now which amounts +to something like two hundred a year, as I shall not come into my rights +till I am twenty-one, and how I am not nineteen; so I have a long time +to wait, you see, which is rather annoying. I took this crib, and have +managed to enjoy my existence pretty well, I can assure you. Sometimes I +run down into the country to spend a week or two with the old folks, and +sometimes they come up and see me."</p> + +<p>"Don't you find it rather dull, living here alone, though?" said George.</p> + +<p>"Dull? far from it. I have a good large circle of friends, who like to +come round here and spend a quiet evening; and there are no end of +amusements in this great city, so that no one need never be dull. +Besides, if I am alone, I am not without friends, you see,"—pointing to +a well-stocked book case.</p> + +<p>"I have been running my eye over them, Harry. There are some very nice +books; but your tastes are changed since I knew you last, or you would +never waste your time over all this lot here which seem to have been +best used. I mean the 'Wandering Jew,' 'Ernest Maltravers,' and the +like."</p> + +<p>"I won't attempt to defend myself, George; but when I was at school, I +did as school-boys did: now I have come to London, I do as the Londoners +do. I know there is an absence of anything like reason in this, but I am +not much thrown amongst reasoners. But, to change the subject; now you +have found me out, George, I do hope you will very often chum with me. I +shall enjoy going about with you better than with anybody else; and as +we know one another so well, we shall soon have tastes and habits in +common again, as we used to have."</p> + +<p>Presently the clock struck. George started up in surprise. "What! +twelve o'clock! impossible. It never can be so late as that?"</p> + +<p>"It is, though," said Ashton, "but what of that? you don't surely call +twelve o'clock bad hours for once in a way?"</p> + +<p>"No, not for once in a way," replied George; "but I have never kept my +mother up so late before. Good-bye, old fellow. Promise to come and see +me some night this week. There is my address." And so saying, George ran +out into the street and made his way towards Islington.</p> + +<p>That was an anxious night for Mrs. Weston. "What can have happened?" she +asked herself a hundred times. Fortunately, Mr. Brunton called, and he +assisted to while away the time.</p> + +<p>"George does not often stay out of an evening, does he?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, never," replied Mrs. Weston; "unless it is with his friend, Charles +Hardy, and then I always know where they are, and what they are doing. +But something extraordinary must have happened to-night, and I feel very +anxious to know what it is. Not that I think he is anywhere he ought not +to be. I feel sure he is not," continued Mrs. Weston confidently; "but +what it is that has detained him, I am altogether at a loss to guess."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will not leave you till he comes home," said Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>It was one o'clock before George arrived; it was too late to get an +omnibus, and a cab, he thought, was altogether out of the question; +therefore he had to walk the whole distance—or rather run, for he was +as anxious now to get home as they were to see him.</p> + +<p>He was very much surprised, and, if it must be confessed, rather vexed +on some accounts, to find Mr. Brunton waiting up for him with his +mother.</p> + +<p>His explanation of what had happened, told in his merry, ingenuous way, +at once dissipated any anxiety they had felt.</p> + +<p>"I recollect Harry Ashton well," said Mrs. Weston. "Dr. Seaward pointed +him out to me, the first time I went to see you at Folkestone, as being +one of his best scholars; and he came home once with you in the holidays +to spend a day or two with us, did he not?"</p> + +<p>"That is the same, mother, and a better-hearted fellow it would be hard +to find."</p> + +<p>"There is only one disadvantage that I see in your having him as an +intimate friend," said Uncle Brunton, "and that is, he is now very +differently situated in position to you as regards wealth, and you +might find him a companion more liable to lead you into expense than any +of your other friends, because I know what a proud fellow you are, +George," he said, laughingly, "you like to do as your friends do, and +would not let them incur expense on your account unless you could return +their compliment. But I will not commence a moral discourse to-night—it +is time all good folks should be in bed."</p> + +<p>All the next day George was thinking over the events of the previous +evening; he was pleased to have found out Harry Ashton, and thought he +would be just the young man he wanted for a companion. Then he compared +their different modes of life—Ashton living in luxuriant circumstances, +without anybody or anything to interfere with his enjoyment, and he, +obliged to live very humbly and carefully in order to make both ends +meet; and then came a new feeling, that of restraint.</p> + +<p>"There is Ashton," he thought, "can go out when he likes and where he +likes, without its being necessary to say where he is going or what he +is going to do, and he can come in at night without being obliged to +account for all his actions like a child. If I happen to stay out, there +is Uncle Brunton and my mother in a great state of excitement about me, +which I don't think is right. I really do not wonder that the clerks +have made me a laughing-stock. All this while I have lived in London I +have seen nothing; have not been to any of the places of amusement; and +have not been a bit like the young men with whom I get thrown into +contact. I think Ashton is right, after all, in saying that when he was +at school he did as school-boys did, and when he came to London he did +as the Londoners do. Far be it from me to be undutiful to those who care +for me; but I think, as a young man, I do owe a duty to myself, +different altogether from that which belonged to me as a schoolboy."</p> + +<p>These were all new thoughts to George: he had never felt or even thought +of restraint before; he had never even expressed a wish to do as other +young men did, in wasting precious time on useless amusements; he had +always looked forward to an evening at home with pleasure, and had never +felt the least inclination to wander forth in search of recreation +elsewhere. Nay, he had always condemned it; and when Lawson or Williams, +or any of the other clerks, had proposed such a thing to him, he never +minded bearing their ridicule in declining.</p> + +<p>And here was George's danger. He was upon his guard with his +fellow-clerks, and was able to keep his resolution not to adopt their +ideas, nor fall into their ways and habits; but when those very evils he +condemned in them were presented to him in a different form by Harry +Ashton, his old friend and school-fellow—leaving the principle the +same, and only the practice a little altered—he was off his guard; and +the habits he regarded with dislike in Williams and Lawson, he was +beginning secretly to admire in Ashton.</p> + +<p>As he walked home that evening with Hardy he gave him a long description +of his meeting with Ashton, and all that happened during his interview +and upon his return home.</p> + +<p>"Now, Hardy," said George, "which do you think is really +preferable—Harry Ashton's life or ours? We never go out anywhere; and, +for the matter of that, might as well be living in monasteries, as far +as knowing what is going on in the world is concerned."</p> + +<p>"For my own part, Weston," said Hardy, "I would rather be as I am. Your +friend is surrounded with infinitely greater temptations than we are, +from the fact of his living as he does without any control. He is +evidently free from his parents, and although he is old enough to take +care of himself, still there is a certain restraint felt under a +parent's roof which is very desirable."</p> + +<p>"Quite true," said George; "but that involves a point which has been +perplexing me all day. Should we, after we have arrived at a certain +age, acknowledge a parent's control as we did when we were mere +school-boys? I do not mean are we to cease to honour them, because that +we cannot do while God's commandment lasts; but are we, as Williams +says, always to go in leading-strings, or are we at liberty to think and +act for ourselves?"</p> + +<p>"That depends a good deal on the way in which we wish to think and act. +For instance, my parents object to Sunday travelling and Sunday +visiting. Now, while I am living with them, I feel it would not be right +for me to do either of these things—even though as a matter of +principle I might not see any positive wrong in them—because it would +bring me into opposition with my parents. So, in spending evenings away +from home, I know it would be contrary to their wish, and it is right to +try and prevent our opinions clashing."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you, partly, Hardy; but only partly. We must study our +parents' opinions in the main, but not in points of detail. Suppose I +want to attend a course of lectures, for example, which would take me +from home sometimes in the evening; and my mother objects to my spending +evenings from home, although the study might be advantageous to me—then +I think I should be at liberty to adhere to my own opinion; if not, I +should be under the same restraint I was as a child. It is right and +natural that parents should feel desirous to know what associations +their sons are forming, and what are their habits, and all that sort of +thing; but I am inclined to think it is not right for a parent to +exercise so strong a control as to say, 'So-and-so shall be your +companion;' and, 'You may go to this place, but you may not go to +that.'"</p> + +<p>"Well, Weston, your digestion must be out of order, or you are a little +bilious, or something; for I never heard you talk like this before. I +have told you, confidentially sometimes, that I have wanted to rebel +against the wishes of my parents on some points, and you have always +counselled me, like a sage, grey-headed father, to give up my desire. +But now you turn right round, and place me in the position of the +parent, and you the rebellious son. I recommend, therefore, that you +take two pills, for I am sure bile is at the bottom of this; and then I +will feel your pulse upon this point again."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston noticed a difference in George that evening. He seemed as +if he had got something upon his mind which was perplexing him. He was +not so cheerful and merry as usual, but his mother attributed it partly +to his late hours, followed by a hard day's work, and therefore she said +nothing to him about it.</p> + +<p>A day or two elapsed, and George was still brooding upon the same +subject. He did not know that the great tempter was weaving a subtle net +around him, to lure him into the broad road which leadeth to +destruction. He tried a hundred times to fight against the strange +influence he felt upon him; but he did not fight with the right weapons, +and therefore he failed. Had the tempter suggested to him that, as he +was a young man, he should do as his fellow-clerks, or even Ashton did, +and have his way in all things, he would have seen the temptation; but +it came altogether in a different way. The evil voice said, "You are +under restraint. Ask any young man of your own age, and he will tell you +so. It is high time you should unloose yourself from apron-strings." And +this idea of restraint was preying upon him, and he could not throw it +off. George was anxious to do the right, but did not know how to fight +against the wrong. Conscience whispered to him, "Do you remember that +motto your dying father gave you, 'For me to live is Christ?'" George +replied, "Yes, I remember it; and it is still my desire to follow it." +Conscience said again, "Do you recollect that sermon you heard, and the +resolutions you made, 'My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou +not?'" And he answered, "I remember it well; but I am not aware that any +are endeavouring to entice me."</p> + +<p>This was the effect of the unconscious influence of Harry Ashton. He had +unknowingly fanned a latent spark into a flame, which, unless checked, +would consume all those high and praiseworthy resolutions which George +had formed, and carefully kept for years. He had cast a shadow over the +landscape of his friend's well-being, which made the sign-posts pointing +"upward and onward" almost indistinct. He had breathed into the +atmosphere a subtle malaria, and George had caught the disease. The +little leaven was now mixed with his life, which would leaven the whole. +The genus of that moral consumption, which, unless cured by the Great +Physician, ends in death, had been sown, and were now taking root.</p> + +<p>George was unconscious of any foreign influence working upon him—he +could not see that Ashton had in any way exerted a power over him; nor +in the new and undefined feelings which had taken possession of him +could he recognise the presence of evil. He had consulted conscience, +and, he fancied, had satisfactorily met the warnings of its voice.</p> + +<p>But he had <i>not</i> gone to that high and sure source of strength which can +alone make a way of escape from all temptations; he had <i>not</i> obtained +that armour of righteousness which is the only defence against the fiery +darts of the wicked one; he had <i>not</i> that faith, in the power of which +alone Satan can be resisted; and therefore his eyes were holden so that +he could not see the snares which the subtle foe was laying around him, +nor could he, in his own strength, bear up against the strong tide which +was threatening to overwhelm him.</p> + + + + +<a name="5"></a> +<h2>Chapter V.</h2> + +<h3>A Farce.</h3> + +<p>Harry Ashton kept his promise, and went one evening that week to see +George at Islington. Hardy had been invited to meet him; and the three +friends, as they kept up a perfect rattle of conversation, interspersed +with many crossfired jokes, made the merriest and happiest little party +that could be imagined.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston was very much pleased with Ashton—his refined thought and +gentlemanly address, joined with an open-hearted candour and a fund of +humour which sparkled in every sentence, made it impossible for any one +not to like him. Charles Hardy thought he had never met a more +entertaining companion than Ashton; Ashton thought Hardy was an +intelligent, agreeable fellow; and George declared to his mother that, +if he had had the pick of all the young men in London, he could not have +found two nicer fellows.</p> + +<p>A hundred topics were discoursed upon during the evening, in which +Ashton generally took the lead, and showed himself to be very well +informed on all ordinary subjects. Incidentally the theatre was +mentioned.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen that new piece at the Lyceum?" said Ashton. "It is really +a very capital thing."</p> + +<p>"No," said George. "I have never been to a theatre."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Hardy.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Mrs. Weston.</p> + +<p>"Well, that is really very extraordinary," said Ashton; "I thought +almost everybody went to a theatre at some time or other. But perhaps +you have some objection?"</p> + +<p>"I have," said Mrs. Weston. "I think there is a great deal of evil +learnt there, and very little good, if any. It is expensive; and it +leads into other bad habits."</p> + +<p>"Those last objections cannot be gainsaid," said Ashton; "but they +equally apply to all amusements, and therefore, by that rule, all +amusements are bad."</p> + +<p>"But not in an equal degree with that of the theatre," George remarked; +"because other amusements do not possess such an infatuation. For my +own part, I should not mind going to a concert; but I very much +disapprove of the theatre, and should never hesitate to decline going +there."</p> + +<p>"Yours is not a good argument, George. You have never been to the +theatre, you say, and yet you disapprove of it. Are you right in +pronouncing such an opinion, which cannot be the result of your own +investigation?"</p> + +<p>"I think I am," replied George; "I can adopt the opinions of those whom +experience has instructed in the matter, and in whom I can rely with +implicit confidence. If a man goes through a dangerous track, and falls +into a bog, I should be willing to admit the track was dangerous, and +avoid the bog, without going in to prove the former traveller was right; +and this applies to going to theatres."</p> + +<p>"No, George; there is your error. There would be no two opinions about +the bog; but suppose you go for a tour to the Pyrenees, and, from +prejudice or some other cause, come back disgusted. You warn me not to +go, telling me I shall be wasting my time, and find nothing interesting +to reward my trouble in the journey. But Hardy goes the same tour, comes +home delighted, and says, 'Go to the Pyrenees by all means; it is a +glorious place, the most pleasant in the whole world for a tour.' To +decide the question, I read two books; one agrees with you, and the +other with Hardy. How can I arrive at an opinion unless I go myself, and +see what it is like? So it is with the theatre: some say it is the great +teacher of morals, others that it is the most wicked and hurtful place. +Therefore I think every one should form his own opinion from his own +experience."</p> + +<p>"You may be right," said George, waveringly. "I am not clear upon the +subject; but I do not think, even if I were to form an opinion in the +way you prescribe, that I should ever choose the theatre as a place of +amusement."</p> + +<p>"Then what is your favourite amusement?" asked Ashton.</p> + +<p>"To come home and read, or spend a social evening with a friend," George +answered.</p> + +<p>"Then I know what will suit you all to pieces," said Ashton; "and your +friend Hardy too. I am a member of a literary institution. It is a +first-rate place—the best in London. There are lectures and classes, +and soirées, a debating society, a good library, and rooms for +chess-playing and that sort of thing. Now, you really must join it; it +will be so very nice for us to have a regular place of meeting; and, +besides that, we can combine study with amusement. What do you say, Mrs. +Weston?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot see any objection to literary institutions," said Mrs. Weston; +"but I have always considered them better suited to young men who are +away from home, than for those who have comfortable homes in which to +spend their evenings. You speak about having a regular place of meeting. +I shall always be very pleased to see you and Mr. Hardy here, as often +as ever you can manage to spend an evening with us."</p> + +<p>"Many thanks for your kindness, Mrs. Weston," returned Ashton; "but it +would not be right for us to trespass on your good nature. Now I will +give you and your friend a challenge, George," he continued. "Next +Monday, the first debate of the season comes off; will you allow me to +introduce you to the institution on that evening?—it is a member's +privilege."</p> + +<p>"I shall be very pleased to join you, then," said George. "What say you, +Hardy?"</p> + +<p>"I accept the invitation, with thanks," replied Hardy.</p> + +<p>On Monday night, as George and Hardy journeyed towards the place of +meeting, they discussed the question of joining the institution.</p> + +<p>"If you will, I will," said Hardy. "My parents do not much like the +idea; but, as you said the other evening, 'we must not allow ourselves +to be controlled like mere children.'"</p> + +<p>"I do think we really require a little recreation after business hours; +and we can obtain none better than that of an intellectual kind, such as +is found at literary institutions. The new term has only just commenced; +so we may as well be enrolled as members at once."</p> + +<p>"I wish the institution was a little nearer home," said Hardy, "for it +will be so late of an evening for us to be out. However, we need not +always attend, nor is it necessary we should very often be late. Have +you had any difficulty in obtaining Mrs. Weston's consent to your +joining?"</p> + +<p>"None at all; she prefers my attending an institution of this kind to +any other, although probably she would be better pleased if I did not +join one at all. But, as Ashton says, we really must live up to the +times, and know something of what is going on in the world around us. +Did you not notice, the other evening, how Ashton could speak upon every +subject brought on the carpet? My mother said, 'What a remarkably +agreeable young man he is! he has evidently seen a good deal of +society;' and I think the two things are inseparable—to be agreeable +in society, one must mix more with it."</p> + +<p>Ashton was punctual to his appointment; and all were at the institution +just as the members were assembling for the debate. George was surprised +to find how many of the young men knew Ashton, and he admired the ease +and elegance of his friend in acknowledging the greetings which met him +on every hand.</p> + +<p>"I won't bore you with introductions to-night," he said, "except to just +half-a-dozen fellows in particular, who, I am sure, you will like to +know; and we can all sit together and compare opinions during the +debate."</p> + +<p>The friends were accordingly introduced; and as the proceedings of the +evening went on, and all waxed warm upon the subject under discussion, +the party which Ashton had drawn together soon became known to one +another, and were on terms of conversational acquaintance.</p> + +<p>The meeting separated at ten o'clock, and then George and Hardy essayed +to bid good-night to their friends, and make their way at once towards +Islington.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Ashton; "I want you to come with me to a nice quiet +place I know, close by, and have a bit of supper and a chat over all +that has been said, and then I will walk part of the way home with you."</p> + +<p>"No, not to-night, Ashton; it is quite late enough already; and it will +be past eleven o'clock before we get home as it is."</p> + +<p>"What say you, Hardy? Can you persuade our sage old friend to abandon +his ten o'clock habits for one night?" asked Ashton.</p> + +<p>"I do not like to establish a bad precedent," said Hardy; "and as we +have to-night joined the institution, I think we should make a rule to +start off home as soon as we leave the meetings, because we have some +distance to go, and bad hours, you know, interfere with business."</p> + +<p>"I did not expect you to make a rule to keep bad hours," said Ashton;" +but every rule has an exception—"</p> + +<p>"And therefore it will not do to commence with the exception; so +good-bye, till we meet again on Wednesday."</p> + +<p>Three nights a-week there was something going on at the institution +sufficiently attractive to draw George and Hardy there. One evening a +lecture, another the discussion class, and the third an elocution class, +or more frequently that was resigned in favour of chess. From meeting +the same young men, night after night, a great number of new +acquaintanceships were formed, and George would never have spent an +evening at home, had he accepted the invitations which were frequently +being given him; but he had made a compact with himself, that he would +never be out more than three evenings a week, and would devote the +remainder to the society of his mother. A certain little voice did +sometimes say to him, "Is it quite right and kind of you, George, to +leave your mother so often? Do you not think it must be rather lonely +for her, sometimes, without you?" And George would answer to the voice, +"Mother would never wish to stand between me and my improvement. +Besides, she has many friends who visit her, and with whom she visits; +and few young men of my age give their mothers more than three evenings +of their society a week."</p> + +<p>One evening, as George and Hardy were entering the institution, Harry +Ashton came up to them, and said,—</p> + +<p>"I have just had some tickets sent me for the Adelphi. There is nothing +going on here worth staying for, so I shall go. Dixon will make one, and +you and Hardy must make up the quartette."</p> + +<p>"Dixon going?" asked George; "why, I thought he was such a sedate +fellow, and never went to anything of the sort!"</p> + +<p>"Neither does he, as a rule; but he has never been to the Adelphi, and +he wants to go. Will you accompany us?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said George; "I told you once I did not like theatres; +perhaps you recollect we discussed the point one evening?"</p> + +<p>"We did, and you said you had never been to a theatre: you disapproved +of them, without ever having had an opportunity of judging whether they +were good or bad places. Now, take the opportunity."</p> + +<p>"I am not anxious to form a judgment; and I so dislike all the +associations of a theatre that it would be no pleasure for me to go."</p> + +<p>"Complimentary, certainly!" laughed Ashton. "But I will grant you this +much—there are bad associations connected with the theatres, and this +is the stronghold of objectors; but we are four staid sober fellows, we +shall go to our box without any bother, sit and see the play without +exchanging a word with anybody beyond our own party, and then leave as +soon as the performance is over. You had better say you will go, eh?"</p> + +<p>"No, it would be very late before I got home," said George: "and I do +not like keeping my mother up, more particularly as I was so very late +the other evening. But what do you say, Hardy?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to say," said Hardy. "I did once say to myself I +would never go to a theatre; but I am not sure that there is any moral +obligation why I should keep my word, when the compact rests only with +myself. I have not time to consult Paley, and so I put the question to +you—Can I go, seeing I have said to myself I will not?"</p> + +<p>"Arrange it in this way," said Ashton; "both of you go, and when you get +there, if you decide you have done wrong, then leave at once; or if you +find that your consciences are in durance vile, and you have not +patience or sufficient interest to stay and see the play out, go, and I +will excuse you then with all my heart; but I won't excuse your not +going. Now is your time to decide; for here comes Dixon, true to his +appointment."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have got your party complete, Ashton?" he said; "and if +so, we had better start at once, or the play will have begun before we +get there."</p> + +<p>George pondered no longer. "Suppose we try it, Hardy, on Ashton's +plan," said he; "I don't see any harm in that, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I think that is the best way in which the case can be put," he +replied; "and I don't see that any harm can possibly come of it."</p> + +<p>Away went the party, full of high spirits, bent upon amusement. But +George felt a certain uneasy something, which tried to make him feel +less pleased with himself than usual, and his laugh was at first forced +and unnatural; there was not the same joyousness there would have been +had he been starting on some recreation which he knew would be approved +by parent and friends, and his own conscience. Ashton noticed he did not +seem to be quite at ease; and therefore he brought all his humour into +play to provoke hilarity. By the time they arrived at the theatre, that +love of novelty and excitement which is so natural to young people +completely overcame all other feelings, and the sight of the crowds +flocking into all parts of the house was now an irresistible temptation +to follow in too.</p> + +<p>They were shown into a very comfortable box, commanding a good view of +the whole of the theatre. The thrilling strains of music issuing from +the orchestra, the dazzling lights, and the large assembly of elegantly +dressed ladies in the boxes, a mass of people in the pit, and tiers of +heads in the galleries, filled George with excitement. He who a little +while before had been the dullest of the party, was now the gayest of +the gay; he was lost in astonishment at all he saw and heard, dazzled +with the brilliancy of the scene, and abandoned to all the enjoyments of +the hour.</p> + +<p>The performances that evening consisted of a farce, the comedy of the +"Serious Family," and a ballet. When the curtain rose, and the farce +commenced, George entered heart and soul into the spirit of the +performance; laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks at the +dilemmas of an unlucky wight who acted a prominent part, and stamped +applause in favour of a young lady who tried in every way to defend this +unfortunate individual from his persecutors.</p> + +<p>When it was over, Ashton turned to George, and said—</p> + +<p>"Well, Weston, so much for the farce; now, if you think it is +objectionable, off you go, old fellow, and we will forgive you."</p> + +<p>"No," said George; "I think that farce was capital, and I shall stay now +and see the end. I am not surprised people like the theatre—I never +enjoyed a laugh more in my life. But there is one thing I have not +liked. That hero of the piece did not scruple to use language for which +he would have been kicked out of any respectable private house—and yet +there are respectable people here, old and young, all listening and +seeming to enjoy it. That shows there is insincerity somewhere; either +these people hush their sensitive feelings in the playhouse, or they are +hypocrites at home, and profess to be much more refined than they really +are."</p> + +<p>"You evidently don't understand plays yet," said Ashton; "that man +depicts a certain style of life, and he must be true to it. If he enacts +the part of a costermonger, he must swear and talk slang, and commit +crimes, if need be, or anything suiting the character he assumes; or +else the thing would be absurd, and the gentleman and costermonger would +be both alike."</p> + +<p>"The theatre must be a 'great teacher of morals,' then, if we come here +to be initiated into the vices of costermongers," said George, rather +sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"George," whispered Hardy, "we've got into a mess; look down in the +pit—Williams and Lawson are there. They have recognized us, and are +nodding—shall we nod?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said George, and he nodded; but his face was red as crimson. "I +would not have had Lawson and Williams see us here for the world," he +whispered to Hardy; "but it's too late now—as you say, we've got into a +mess."</p> + +<p>Just then the curtain rose again, and the play of the "Serious Family," +commenced.</p> + +<p>The plot of the piece is this:—</p> + +<p>Mr. Abinadab Sleek and Lady Creamly are two hypocrites, introduced as +ordinary specimens of Christians. They are living in the house of their +daughter and son-in-law (Mr. and Mrs. Charles Torrens), over whom they +exercise a stern and despotic control. Mr. Charles Torrens, "for the +sake of peace and quietness," agrees to all the solemnities opposed upon +him; and is willing to pass himself off in Christian circles as a +co-worker with Mr. Abinadab Sleek. In his heart he detests everything +like seriousness; and whenever an opportunity occurs, on the pretext of +going into the country, indulges in the gaieties and vices of London +fashionable life. He is visited by an old friend, Captain Murphy +Maguire, who persuades him to renounce boldly the sanctimonious customs +of the "Serious Family," and enjoy with unshackled freedom the pleasures +of the world. To this he consents; but he has not courage to alter the +family customs. Captain Maguire aids his plans by convincing Mrs. C. +Torrens that unless she provides in her home those amusements which are +found in the world, her husband will prefer the world to his home. A +conspiracy is laid to oppose the religious tyranny of Mr. Abinadab +Sleek, the result of which is, that a ball is given by Mr. Torrens, +assisted by his wife, who, throwing off her former profession of +Christianity, becomes a woman of the world. On all this their future +happiness as man and wife is made to hinge; and when, through the flimsy +plot of the piece, the tableau arrives, the curtain drops, leaving the +younger members of the "Serious Family" whirling in the giddy dance, +commencing the new era of domestic happiness.</p> + +<p>Throughout the play, Scripture is quoted and ridiculed, religion is made +contemptible, and vice under the name of "geniality, openheartedness, +and merriment," is made to appear the one thing necessary to constitute +real happiness.</p> + +<p>George followed the play through all its shifting scenes; now laughed, +now sighed, now felt the hot blush of shame as he listened to the +atrocious mockery of everything which, from the time he had been an +infant on his mother's knee, he had been taught to regard as good and +pure. He was heated to indignation when the audience applauded the base +character of Maguire, and shuddered when as he thought that a masked +hypocrite was brought before the world as the type of a Christian, and +that a "Serious Family" was only another name for an unhappy, canting +set of ignorant people.</p> + +<p>And yet George did not leave the theatre. He was hurt, wounded to the +heart by what he saw and heard, felt he would have given the world to +have stood up in the box, and have told the audience that the play was a +libel upon everything sacred and solemn; but he stayed and saw it out, +rivetted by that strange, unholy infatuation which has been the bane of +so many.</p> + +<p>"Let us go now, Hardy," he said, as the curtain dropped; "you do not +care to see the ballet, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in for a penny, in for a pound. While we are here, we may as well +see all that is to be seen. I won't ask you how you liked the comedy. I +want to see something lively now, to remove the disagreeable impressions +it has left upon me."</p> + +<p>And so they stayed, delighted with the music, fascinated with the +graceful dancing, and dazzled with the scenery. At length the curtain +fell, and the evening's performance was over.</p> + +<p>"It is only half-past eleven," said Ashton, when they got outside; "now +we must just turn in somewhere, and get a bit of supper, and then, I +suppose we must separate. There is a first-rate hotel close handy, where +I sometimes dine. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>"Just the place for us," said Dixon; "because we must limit ourselves to +half an hour, and we shall get what we want quickly there."</p> + +<p>As they went into the supper-room, George saw, to his vexation, Lawson +and Williams, with a party of boon companions, seated round a table at +the further end. He instantly drew back; but it was too late, they had +recognised him.</p> + +<p>"Confound it!" he said to Ashton, "there are some chaps from our office, +at the end there. I do not wish to meet them; cannot we go into a +private room?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Ashton; and the party retreated. "But why do you not +wish to meet your fellow clerks?"</p> + +<p>"Because they are a low set of fellows with whom I have nothing in +common."</p> + +<p>When supper was over and the clock had struck twelve, the party +separated.</p> + +<p>"Good night, old fellow," said Ashton to George. "I am sorry we have +not seen quite the sort of play you would have liked; but now you have +seen the worst side of the theatre, and next time we go together we will +try and see the best; so that between the two extremes you will be able +to discriminate and determine what sort of place the theatre is as an +amusement."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ashton, for your share in the entertainment to-night. I will +talk to you about the play some other time; but I must say, candidly, I +never felt so distressed in my life as I did while that gross insult to +all good feeling, 'The Serious Family,' was being performed. If you had +said to me what that wretch, Captain Maguire, said in my hearing +to-night, I would not have shaken hands with you again as I do now."</p> + +<p>An omnibus happened to be passing for the Angel at Islington that +moment, and George and Hardy got up.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do with regard to Williams and Lawson?" said Hardy. "They +have got a victory to-night. I fear our protest against theatres and +taverns is over with them for ever now, seeing they have caught us at +both places."</p> + +<p>"I cannot but regret the circumstance," said George, "but it is nothing +to them; they are not our father-confessors, and we are not bound to +enter into any particulars with them. The greatest difficulty with me is +how to manage when I get home. I don't like deceiving my mother; but I +should not like to pain her by saying I have been to the theatre. She +knew I started for the institution, and that I might possibly be late; +so, unless she asks me where I have been, I don't see that there will be +any good in unnecessarily distressing her."</p> + +<p>"The disagreeable thing in such a case is," replied Hardy, "if the fact +comes out afterwards, it <i>looks</i> as if a deception had been practised."</p> + +<p>George and Hardy had never talked together like this before; and they +spoke hesitatingly, as if they hardly liked to hear their own voices +joining to discuss a mean, unworthy, dishonourable trick.</p> + +<p>O temptation! what an inclined path is thine! How slippery for the feet, +and how rapidly the unwary traveller slides along, lower and lower—each +step making the attempt to ascend again to high ground more difficult! +George had made many dangerous slips that night—would he ever regain +his position?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston was sitting up for George, and pleased was she to hear, at +last, his knock at the door.</p> + +<p>"Mother, this is too bad of me, keeping you up so late," said George. "I +really did not mean to keep bad hours to-night; but I will turn over a +new leaf for the future."</p> + +<p>"I do not mind sitting up, George, if it is for your good," she +answered; "but I fear you will not improve your health by being so late +as this. Have you enjoyed your meeting to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty well," said George; "but I have been with Ashton, Dixon, and +Hardy since."</p> + +<p>"Then you have not had supper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we had supper with Ashton." George got red as he said this. It was +the first time he ever remembered wilfully deceiving his mother.</p> + +<p>"Oh! that has made you late, then," said Mrs. Weston. "I am afraid +Ashton has so many attractions in those apartments of his—what with +friends, books, and curiosities—that you find it difficult to break up +your social gatherings."</p> + +<p>"It is too bad of me to leave you so often, my dear mother; but I don't +mean to go to Ashton's again for some time, unless he comes to see us; +and so I shall return straight home from the institution for a long +while."</p> + +<p>When George retired to his room, he felt so distracted with all that +had taken place, that his old custom of reading a chapter from God's +Word, and kneeling down to pray before getting into bed, was abandoned +for that night. He tried to sleep, but could not. The strains of music +were yet ringing in his ears, and the dazzling light was still flashing +before his eyes. Then the plays came again before him; and he followed +the plots throughout, smiling again over some of the jokes, and feeling +depressed at the sad parts. Then he thought of Williams and Lawson, and +reproached himself for having acted that evening very, very foolishly. +Alas! this was not the right term; it was more than foolishness to +tamper with the voice of conscience, to violate principles which had +been inculcated from childhood, to plot wilful deceit, and act a lie. +Instead of saying he had acted foolishly, he should have said, "Father, +I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight Have mercy upon me, O God! +Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquities, and cleanse me from my sin; for +against Thee, Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil." But George +only said, "I am so very vexed I went with Ashton to-night; it was very +foolish!—very foolish!"</p> + + + + +<a name="6"></a> +<h2>Chapter VI.</h2> + +<h3>The Lecture.</h3> + +<p>"You look seedy this morning, Mr. Weston," said Williams, as George +entered the office on the following day. "The effect of last night's +dissipation, I suppose. How did you like the play?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," answered George, mortified and angry at having the +question put to him before all the clerks, who were now informed of the +fact of his having been there.</p> + +<p>"No; I suppose one Abinadab Sleek does not like to hear another one of +the same gang spoken ill of, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I do not understand you," said George.</p> + +<p>"Then, to put it plainer, you and Hardy, who are of the 'Serious Family' +style, don't like to see yourselves taken off quite so true to life as +you were last night at the Adelphi. You saw that old canting Abinadab +Sleek was up to every dodge and vice, although he did seem such a +sanctified individual in public; and our young Solomons, who condemn +wicked theatres and disgusting taverns, can go to both on the sly, and +be as sanctimonious as ever Abinadab was in office."</p> + +<p>George felt his hands clench, and his eyes flash fire. He could bear +taunts from Williams, when he had right on his side, and felt the +consciousness of innocence; but he could not bear it now.</p> + +<p>"You lie," said George passionately, "in drawing that comparison."</p> + +<p>"And you lie continually," said Williams, "in acting a perpetual edition +of that part of the 'Serious Family' represented by Abinadab Sleek."</p> + +<p>"Fight it out I fight it out!" said Lawson. "The Governor won't be here +for half an hour; bolt the door and have it out."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind," said Hardy, stepping forward. "Williams is the +aggressor in this instance; it is nothing to him if Weston and I went to +the theatre every night in our lives; he has no right to interfere; if +he fights it must be with Weston and me, for he insults me as much as my +friend."</p> + +<p>"Then come on," said Williams, taking off his coat, "and I'll take you +both: one man is worth two canting hypocrites, any day."</p> + +<p>But no one had bolted the door, and, to the surprise of all, Mr. +Compton stood before them.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" he said; "young men in my office talking of fighting, as +if it were the tap-room of a public house? George Weston! I did not +think this of you."</p> + +<p>"Do not judge hastily, sir," said Hardy. "My friend Weston has been +grossly insulted by Mr. Williams, and the little disturbance has only +been got up through jealousy, to get him into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Step into my room a moment, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Compton; "and you, +too, Weston and Williams."</p> + +<p>George was flushed with excitement; but his proud, manly bearing, in +contrast to the crest-fallen Williams, won for him the admiration of the +whole staff of clerks.</p> + +<p>Mr. Compton patiently heard from Hardy a recital of the causes leading +to the fray, and was made acquainted with the course of opposition +George had to contend with, from Williams and Lawson, ever since he had +been in the office.</p> + +<p>"I regret this circumstance," said Mr. Compton, "for several reasons. I +have always held you, Weston, in the highest estimation, nor do I see +sufficient cause, from this event, to alter my estimate; but I have +always found my best clerks those who have been in the habit of spending +their evenings elsewhere than in theatres and taverns. I am not +surprised at the part you have taken, Mr. Williams; and it now rests +with you, whether you remain in this office or leave. I will not have +the junior clerks in this establishment held in subjection to those who +have been with me a few years longer; nor will I have a system of insult +and opposition continued, which must eventually lead to unpleasant +results. If I hear any more of this matter, or find that you persist in +your unwarranted insults on Mr. Weston, I shall at once dismiss you from +my service. You did well, Mr. Hardy, in interfering to prevent a +disgraceful fight; and, much as I dislike tale-bearing, I request you to +inform me, for the future, of any unpleasantness arising to Mr. Weston +from this affair."</p> + +<p>Williams was terribly crest-fallen, and the tide of office opinion +turned from him in favour of George and Hardy, who, without crowing over +the victory they had gained, yet showed a manly determination not to +allow an insult which reflected upon their characters.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what it is," whispered Lawson to Williams; "Old Compton +takes a fancy to those two sneaking fellows, and, after this affair, +the office will get too hot for us if we do not draw it milder to them. +If I were you, I should waylay them outside the office and say something +civil, by way of soft soap, so as to nip this matter off, for you've got +the worst of it so far."</p> + +<p>Williams determined to accept the hint Lawson had given him, and when +the office closed, remained in the court until George came out.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston," he said, stretching out his hand, which George felt would +be mean-spirited not to take, "that was an unpleasant affair this +morning, but I didn't think you would fire up as you did; and when I let +fly at you, it was only in joke."</p> + +<p>"I must deny that it was a joke," George replied; "it was an intended +insult. Probably you might not have thought it would have produced +indignation in me, because you, evidently, do not understand my feelings +in the matter. However, let the thing drop now. I will not retract what +I said to you this morning, that you lied in forming that estimate of my +character, nor do I ask you to retract your words, unless your +conscience tells you that you wronged me."</p> + +<p>"What I said was hasty, and I don't mind eating all my words," said +Williams; "so, as the song says, 'Come, let us be happy together.' Will +you come into the King's Head, and take a glass of wine on the strength +of it?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said George; "but as it is no wish of mine to live at +loggerheads with any one, here is my hand upon it."</p> + +<p>And then they shook hands, and so the matter ended. But it ended only so +far as Williams was concerned. A day or two afterwards Mr. Brunton was +passing the office, and he called in to say "How d'ye do?" to Mr. +Compton. In the course of conversation he asked how George was getting +on, and whether he continued to give satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. Compton, "I have no fault to find with him; on the +contrary, he is the best junior clerk I ever had, and I trust him with +matters I never placed in the hands of a junior clerk before. But there +was an unfortunate occurrence the other day, which I think it right to +mention to you confidentially." And then Mr. Brunton heard the whole +history of the theatre adventure, and its consequences in the office on +the following morning. He was grieved, deeply grieved. At first he could +not credit the account; but when he heard that George had himself +confessed to the truth of the circumstances before Mr. Compton, and +there was no longer room to doubt, a tear stood in his eye as he thought +of his nephew—that noble, manly boy, whom he loved with all the +affection of a father—stooping to temptation, and acting the part of a +deceiver; for Mr. Brunton had spent an evening with Mrs. Weston and +George, and had heard nothing of his having been to a theatre, nor did +he believe Mrs. Weston was aware of it.</p> + +<p>"What I have told you is strictly confidential," said Mr. Compton; "but +as you are, as it were, the father of George Weston, I thought it only +right that you should know this, in order that you may warn him, if he +has got into the hands of bad companions."</p> + +<p>George was absent from the office during the interview, and did not know +until some days afterwards of his uncle's visit.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton went from Falcon-court a sadder man. He was perplexed and +harassed; he could not conscientiously tell Mrs. Weston, as he had +received the information in confidence; he could not speak directly to +George upon the subject, because he would at once have known that Mr. +Compton must have given the statement to his uncle. He was obliged, +therefore, to remain passive in the matter for a day or two, and +resolved to spend an evening that week at Islington.</p> + +<p>In the meantime the affair became known to Mrs. Weston, and in rather a +curious manner. George had worn his best coat on the evening he went to +the theatre; and one day as Mrs. Weston, according to custom, was +brushing it, before putting it away in his drawers, she turned out the +pockets, and, amongst other things, drew forth a well-used play-bill.</p> + +<p>"George has never been to the theatre, surely?" she asked herself. +"Impossible! he would have told me had he done so, for he is far too +high-principled to deceive me."</p> + +<p>But the sight of that play-bill worried Mrs. Weston. She thought over it +all day, and longed for the evening to come, when she might ask George +about it.</p> + +<p>That evening Mr. Brunton had determined to spend at Islington; and as he +was passing Falcon-court, he called for George on his way, and they +walked home together.</p> + +<p>The play-bill happened to be on the table when they entered, and it +caught the eye of both George and Mr. Brunton at once.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get that from?" asked George, colouring, not with the +honest flush of self-respect, but with the burning sense of deceit +detected.</p> + +<p>"I found it in your pocket, George; and as I have never found one there +before, I thought I would leave it out, to ask you how you came by it."</p> + +<p>"I came by it the other night, when I went to the theatre," said George; +for he could not tell a direct falsehood. "I did not tell you of it at +the time, but led you to suppose that I had been at the institution."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston was indeed sorry to hear George's account of what had +passed; but Mr. Brunton felt all his old confidence in George restored +by the open, genuine statement he made.</p> + +<p>"George," said Mr. Brunton, "I know you are old enough to manage your +affairs for yourself, without an uncle's interference, but do take from +me one word of caution. I fear you may be led unwittingly into error by +your associates. Do be on your guard—'if sinners entice thee, consent +thou not.' If you feel it right, and can conscientiously go with them +and adopt their habits, I have no right, nor should I wish to advise +you; but if you feel that you are wrong in what you do, listen to the +voice of your better self, and pause to consider. Do not turn a deaf +ear to its entreaties, but be admonished by its counsel, and rather +sacrifice friends and pleasure than that best of all enjoyments—the +satisfaction of acting a part of duty to God and yourself."</p> + +<p>George did not argue the point with his uncle; he felt himself in the +wrong, but could not see his way clear to get right again.</p> + +<p>"I have made so many resolves in my short life," he said, "and have +broken them so often, that I will not pledge myself to making fresh ones +My error, in this instance, has not been the fault of my companionships, +but entirely my own; and, as far as I can see, the chief blame lies in +having concealed the matter from my mother, which I did principally out +of kindness to her. But I will endeavour to take your counsel, uncle."</p> + +<p>Weeks passed away, and with them the vivid memories of that time. George +had at length reasoned himself into the idea that a great deal of +unnecessary fuss had been made about nothing, and instead of weaning +himself from the society of Ashton, they became more than ever thrown +into each other's company. George was a constant attendant at the +institution, where he was surrounded by a large circle of intimate +acquaintances, with whom much of his time was spent. In the office he +had risen in the estimation of the clerks. Williams and Lawson, finding +that opposition was unavailing, altered their conduct towards him, and +became as civil and obliging as they had before been insulting and +disagreeable. George began to think he had belied their characters from +not having known sufficient of them; and instead of shunning them, as he +had hitherto done, sometimes took a stroll with them in the evening +after office hours, and once or twice had dined with them at the King's +Head.</p> + +<p>Imperceptibly, George began to alter. Sooner or later, evil +communications must corrupt good manners; and from continually beholding +the lives of his companions, without possessing that one thing needful +to have kept him free from the entanglement of their devices, he became +changed into the same image, by the dangerous power of their influence +and example.</p> + +<p>A month or two after the theatre adventure, Mrs. Weston received an +invitation to spend a week or two in the country with some relatives, +whom she had not seen for several years. Mr. Brunton persuaded her to +accept it, as the change would be beneficial; and George, knowing how +seldom his mother had an opportunity for recreation, added all his +powers of argument to induce her to go. The only obstacle presenting +itself was the management of the house during her absence. Mr. Brunton +invited George to stay with him while Mrs. Weston would be away; and she +did not like to leave her servant alone in the house with the boarders. +It was at last arranged that George should decline Mr. Brunton's +invitation, and have the oversight of the house during his mother's +absence.</p> + +<p>The first night after her departure, George brought Hardy home with him +to spend the evening, and a pleasant, quiet time they had together.</p> + +<p>"It will be rather dull for you, George," said Hardy, "if Mrs. Weston is +going to remain away for a few weeks. What shall you do on Sunday? You +had better come and spend the day with us."</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot do that, because I promised I would be here, to let the +servant have an opportunity of going to church. But I mean to ask Ashton +to come and spend the day here, and you will come too; and there's +Dixon, he is a nice fellow, I'll ask him to come as well."</p> + +<p>"What is to be the programme for the day?" said Hardy. "Of course it +will be a quiet one."</p> + +<p>"We will all go to church or chapel in the morning, spend the afternoon +together at home, and take a stroll in the evening after the service. +Are you agreed?"</p> + +<p>"I think we shall have a very nice day of it. Let the other chaps know +of it early, and we will meet here in good time in the morning."</p> + +<p>Sunday came, and George's friends arrived as he expected. They were +early, and had time for a chat before starting out.</p> + +<p>"Where shall we go this morning?" asked George. "There is a very good +minister close by at the church, and another equally good at the chapel. +My principles are unsectarian, and I do not mind where it is we go."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," said Dixon, "we might do ourselves more good by +taking a stroll a few miles out of town, and talking out a sermon for +ourselves?"</p> + +<p>"I am inclined to the belief that nature is the best preacher," Ashton +remarked. "We hear good sermons from the pulpit, it is true; but words +are poor things to teach us of the Creator, in comparison with +creation."</p> + +<p>"I do not agree with you in your religious sentiments, Ashton, as you +know," said George. "Creation tells us nothing about our Saviour, and, +as I read the Scriptures, no man can know God, the Father and Great +Creator, but through Him."</p> + +<p>"And yet, if I remember rightly, the Saviour said that He made the +world, and without Him was not anything made that was made—so that He +was the Creator; and when we look from nature up to nature's God we see +Him, and connecting His history with the world around us, we have in +creation, as I said before, the best sermon; aye, and what the parsons +call a 'gospel' sermon, too."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," said Dixon; "preaching is all very well in its way, +and I like a good sermon; but the words of man can never excel the works +of God."</p> + +<p>"A proper sermon," replied George, "is not uttered in the words of man; +they are God's words applied and expounded. Nature may speak to the +senses, but the Scriptures alone speak to the heart; and that is the +object of preaching. But you are my visitors, and you shall decide the +point."</p> + +<p>"Then I say a stroll," said Ashton.</p> + +<p>"And so do I," chimed in Dixon.</p> + +<p>"I am for going to a place of worship," said Hardy.</p> + +<p>"And so am I," Ashton replied; "is not all God's universe a place of +worship?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so," answered Hardy; "but I mean the appointed and proper +place, where those who try to keep holy the Sabbath day are accustomed +to meet—a church or chapel."</p> + +<p>"I side with Hardy," said George. "But I am willing to meet you halfway. +If I go with you this morning, you must all promise to go with me in the +evening. But bear in mind I am making a concession, and I go for a +stroll under protest, because it is contrary to my custom."</p> + +<p>"All right, old chap," said Ashton. "I never knew anybody's conscience +fit them so uneasily as yours does. But it always did; at school, you +were a martyr to it, and I believe the blame lies at the door of dear +old Dr. Seaward, who persisted in training us up in the way we should +go, just as if we were all designed to be parsons."</p> + +<p>"Poor old Dr. Seaward!" said George. "If he only knew two of his old +scholars were going out for a stroll on Sunday morning to hear nature +preach, I believe his body would hardly contain his troubled spirit."</p> + +<p>"And he would appear before us to stop us on our way—"</p> + +<p>"Like the spirit before Balaam and his ass, seems the most appropriate +simile," said Dixon, "for, if I recollect rightly, Balaam was going +where he should not have gone, and his conscience gave him as much +trouble as Weston's does."</p> + +<p>George did not think and say, as Balaam did, "I have sinned;" but he +felt the sting of ridicule, and determined he would allow no +conscientious scruple to bring it upon him again during that day.</p> + +<p>"After all," he argued with himself, "what is the use of my being +conscientious, for I am so wretchedly inconsistent? I had better go all +one way, or all the other, instead of wavering between the two, and +perpetually showing my weakness."</p> + +<p>It would have puzzled any one to have told what sermon nature preached +to that merry party, as they wandered through green fields and quiet +lanes, talking upon a hundred different subjects, and making the calm +Sabbath morn ring with the strains of their laughter.</p> + +<p>"Your idea of creation's voice is better in theory than in practice," +George said, when they returned home. "Can any of you tell me what the +text was which nature took to preach from, for I have no distinct +remembrance of it?"</p> + +<p>"The text seemed to me to be this," said Dixon, "that 'to everything +there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens—a time +to weep and a time to laugh—a time to keep silence and a time to +speak;' and the application was, that we had chosen the right time for +enjoying much speaking and much laughing."</p> + +<p>The afternoon was not spent as George had been accustomed to spend it. +Light, frivolous conversation, and still more dangerous debate upon +religious subjects, without religious feeling, occupied the time, and +George felt glad when the evening came, and they started off together to +hear a popular preacher, whose merits they had been discussing during +the afternoon.</p> + +<p>On their way thither they passed a large building, into which several +people were entering, and as the outside of the place was ornamented +with handbills, they paused to read them. They ran thus:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"HALL OF SCIENCE.—A Lecture will be delivered in this Hall on Sunday +evening, at half past six, by Professor Martin, on 'The Uses of Reason.' +Young men are cordially invited to attend.</p> + +<p>"What is truth? Search and see."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Do you know anything of this Professor Martin?" asked Dixon. "Is he +worth hearing?"</p> + +<p>"A friend of mine told me he had heard him, a little while ago, and was +never better pleased with any lecture," Ashton answered. "Shall we put +up here for the evening?"</p> + +<p>"Is he a preacher, or a mere lecturer?" asked George. The question +attracted the attention of a person entering the Hall; and, turning to +George, he answered:—</p> + +<p>"Professor Martin is one of those best of all preachers. He can interest +without sending you to sleep, and his discourses are full of sound +wisdom. He is a lover of truth, and advocates the only way to arrive at +it, which is by unfettered thought. In his lectures he puts his theory +into practice by freely expressing his unfettered thoughts. I have seats +in the front of the lecture-room; if you will favour me by accepting +them, they are at your service."</p> + +<p>The plausible and polite manner of the stranger was effectual with +George.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we can do better than go in and hear what the lecturer +has to say," he said to the others. And, assent being given, they +followed the stranger, and were conducted to the proffered seats.</p> + +<p>The audience consisted principally of men, the majority of whom were +young and of an inferior class, such as shopmen and mechanics. There was +a large platform, with chairs upon it, but no pulpit or reading-desk. +When the lecturer, accompanied by a chairman and some friends, entered, +George and his companions were surprised to hear a clapping of hands and +stamping of feet, similar to the plan adopted at public amusements.</p> + +<p>"This does not seem much like a Sunday evening service," said George. +"We have time to leave, if you like; or shall we stay and see it out?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! let us stay," replied the others.</p> + +<p>No hymn was sung, no prayer was offered at the commencement, but the +lecturer, with a pocket Bible in his hands, quoted a few passages of +Scripture, as follows:—</p> + +<p>"Come now, and let us reason together,"—Isa. i. 18; "I applied mine +heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, and to know the +reason of things,"—Eccles. vii. 25; "And Paul, as his manner was, went +in unto them, and three Sabbath days reasoned with them out of the +Scriptures,"—Acts xvii. 2; "Be ready alway to give an answer to every +man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you,"—1 Peter iii. +15.</p> + +<p>The object of the lecturer was to show that no intelligent being could +receive truth unless that truth commended itself to reason, because the +two were never in opposition one with the other. Conscience, he said, +was the soul's safeguard, and reason the safeguard of the heart and +intellect. It was irrational to condemn any course of conduct which +conscience approved, and it was equally irrational to believe anything +that could not be understood. The Word of God might be useful in its +way, but only as studied with unfettered thought. If that Word exalted +reason and then taught inconsistencies and absurdities, reason must +discriminate between the right and the wrong. "For example," he +continued, "if that book tells me that there are three Gods, and yet +those three are one, I reason by analogy and say, here are three +fingers; each one has its particular office; but I cannot make these +three fingers one finger, neither can I make three Gods one God."</p> + +<p>So the lecturer continued, but he did not put his case in so many plain +words as these; every argument he clothed with doubtful words, so as to +make falsehood look like truth, and blasphemy like worship. He was an +educated and intelligent man, gifted with that dangerous power of +preaching the doctrine of devils in the guise of an angel of light, and +handling deadly sophistry with as firm a grasp as if it were the sword +of the Spirit.</p> + +<p>At the conclusion of the lecture he announced his intention to speak +from that platform again on the following Sunday, and invited all who +were inquiring the way of truth to be present, and judge what he said, +"whether it be right, or whether it be wrong."</p> + +<p>As George and his friends were leaving the hall, the stranger, who had +accosted them before, came up, and bowing politely said—</p> + +<p>"Will you allow me to offer you the same seats, for next Sunday evening? +If you will say yes, I will reserve them for you; otherwise you may have +difficulty in obtaining admission, for the room will, in all +probability, be more crowded than to-night, as Professor Martin was not +announced to lecture until late in the week, and the friends who +frequent the Hall had no notice of his being here."</p> + +<p>"I will certainly come," said Ashton. "I never heard a speaker I liked +better. What say you?" he asked, turning to the others.</p> + +<p>"I am anxious to hear the conclusion of the argument," said George; "so +we will accept your invitation," he added to the stranger, "and thank +you for your kindness and courtesy."</p> + +<p>It was a long conversation the friends had as they strolled along that +evening. To George every argument the lecturer had brought forward was +new; and bearing, as they did, the apparent stamp of truth, he was +utterly confounded. Although he was a good biblical scholar, as regarded +the historical and narrative parts of the Scriptures, he was but ill +informed on those more subtle points which the lecturer handled. He had +never heard the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, disputed, and had +always implicitly believed it; now, when the lecturer quoted Scripture +to prove that truth was to be analysed by reason, and reason rejected +the idea of a Trinity, he was as unable to reconcile the two as if he +had never received any religious instruction at all.</p> + +<p>"If what he advances be true," said George, "how irrational many things +in the Christian religion are! And how singular that men like him, who +'search into the reason of things' for wisdom, and hold opinions +contrary to the orthodox notions of those whom we call Christians, +should be looked upon with suspicion and distrust."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Ashton; "he met that idea by saying that it was not more +than singular, in the early stages of science, for people to be burnt as +witches and magicians, because they made discoveries which are now +developed and brought into daily use, than it is now for men to be +scouted as infidel and profane, because they teach opinions which only +require investigation to make them universally admitted."</p> + +<p>An unhappy day was that Sunday for George Weston. He had violated +principle, made concessions against the dictates of conscience (how poor +a safeguard for him!) and had learnt lessons which taught him to despise +those instructions which had hitherto been as a lamp unto his feet and a +light unto his path.</p> + +<p>"Blessed is the man that <i>walketh</i> not in the counsel of the ungodly, +nor <i>standeth</i> in the way of sinners, nor <i>sitteth</i> in the seat of the +scornful." George little thought how rapidly he was passing through +those different stages on the downward road. Had he never listened to +the council of the ungodly, he would not have walked in the way of evil, +but would have avoided even its very appearance; he would not have stood +in the way of sinners, parleying with temptations, as he had done on so +many occasions; nor would he have occupied that most dangerous of all +positions, the fatal ease of sitting in the seat of the scornful.</p> + + + + +<a name="7"></a> +<h2>Chapter VII.</h2> + +<h3>Getting On In The World.</h3> + +<p>"Mr. Compton wishes to speak with you, Weston," said Mr. Sanders, the +manager, to George one morning, during the visit of Mrs. Weston in the +country.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Weston," said Mr. Compton; "I want to have a few minutes' +conversation with you: sit down. You have been in my office now more +than a twelvemonth, and I promised that you should have an increased +salary at the expiration of that time. Your services have been very +valuable to me during the past year, and I am in every way satisfied +with you. As a tangible proof of this, I beg your acceptance of this +little present," (handing him a ten-pound note,) "and during this year +on which you have entered, I shall have much pleasure in giving you a +salary of two guineas a week."</p> + +<p>"I am exceedingly obliged to you sir," George stammered out, for he was +flabbergasted at the kindness of his employer; "I hope I may always +continue to do my duty in your office, and deserve your approbation."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, too;" said Mr. Compton, "both for your sake and for my own. +If you continue as you have begun, there is a fair field before you, and +I will advance you as opportunity occurs. Now, apart from business, I +want one word with you. I kept you purposely last year upon a low +salary, because I have found that sometimes it is beneficial to young +men to have only a small income. With your increased salary, you will +have increased means for entering that style of life which is, +unfortunately, too universal with young men—I mean the gaieties and +dissipations of a London life are now more open to you than they were +before. But what is termed a 'fast' young man never makes a good clerk, +and I do hope you will not allow yourself to fail into habits which will +be obstacles to your future promotion."</p> + +<p>"I will endeavour, sir, always to maintain my position in your office," +said George; "and I feel very grateful to you for the interest you take +in my personal welfare."</p> + +<p>George was in high spirits with his good fortune. He had not expected +more than a guinea, or at the utmost thirty shillings a week increase +for his second year, and had never dreamt of receiving so handsome a +present as £10. By that night's post he sent off a long letter to his +mother, giving her an account of the interview, and of his future +prospects.</p> + +<p>But George had different ideas about his future now, to those he +cherished a twelvemonth back. Then he thought only of himself and his +mother; how happy they would be together, and how much he would +endeavour to contribute to her enjoyment. Now he congratulated himself +that he would be upon a footing with his friends, that he could do as +they did, and that he had the means to follow up those recreations which +were becoming habitual to him. For since Mrs. Weston had been away, +George had gone step by step further on unhallowed ground. Even Ashton +said, "Weston, you are coming it pretty strong, old fellow!" and Hardy +had declared that he could not keep pace with him. Night after night, as +he had no one at home to claim his presence there, he had been to +theatres and other places of amusement. Sunday after Sunday he had +attended the lectures at the Hall of Science, and abandoning himself to +the tide which was hurrying him along, he floated down the dangerous +stream.</p> + +<p>The principles of infidelity which had been inculcated, appealed to him +with a voice so loud as to drown the appeals from a higher source. The +one approved his conduct, the other condemned it—the one pointed to the +world as a scene of enjoyment, the other as at enmity with God. George +felt that if he would hold one he must resign the other. He had not that +moral courage, or rather he had not the deep-rooted conviction of sin, +or the earnest love and fear of God, to enable him to burst through the +entanglements of the world and the world's god, and choosing whom he +would serve: he loved darkness rather than light.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Weston returned, after a month's absence, she could not but +observe an alteration in George. Although he never told her of his +attendance at the lectures on Sunday, or the arguments he had had with +friends who held infidel opinions, she soon perceived that George's +feelings were undergoing a rapid and dangerous change. Those subjects on +which he was once in the habit of conversing with her, he now carefully +shunned. He was affectionate and kind to his mother still, and loved her +with all his old intense love, but that ingenuous confidence which he +had always reposed in her was gone. Things that were dear to him now he +could not discuss with her; instead of telling her how he spent his +time, and what were his amusements, he avoided any mention of them. The +deception which he first practised on that night when he yielded to +Ashton's persuasion, was now a system. He reasoned the matter over with +himself: there could be no good in telling her; their opinions were +different; he would take his course, independently of hers.</p> + +<p>Uncle Brunton noticed the change; for to those who saw him seldom the +change was sudden. But to George, every day there seemed an epoch, and +he was unconscious of the rapidity with which old associations and ideas +cherished from childhood were thrown down and trampled upon by the new +feelings which had taken possession of him.</p> + +<p>"George," said Mr. Brunton to him one day, "I am growing uneasy about +you. I feel that I am not the same to you, nor you to me, we used to be, +only a few months back. I cannot tell the reason—cannot tell when the +difference commenced or how—but for some months past—ever since your +mother's visit to the country—there has been a want of that old +confidential, affectionate intercourse between us there used to be."</p> + +<p>"I was younger then," said George, "and the freshness of youthful +feeling and attachment may die away as we advance in years; but I am not +aware that I have ever given you occasion to say I do not love you +sincerely still, uncle. Your kindness to me never can, and never will be +forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Well, George, I cannot explain what I mean. I have a kind of feeling +about you that something is wrong which I cannot put into words. I fancy +that if I offer you a word of counsel, you do not receive it as you once +did; if I talk seriously with you, it does not make the same impression, +or touch the spring of the same feelings. You do not talk to me with the +old frankness and candour which made my heart leap, when I thanked God I +had got some one in the world to love, and who loved me. But perhaps I +wrong you, and expect too much from you."</p> + +<p>"No, not that, uncle. Frankness, candour, and love are due to you, and +while I have them they shall always be yours; and to prove it, I will +tell what I have never told any one before, what I have hardly spoken to +my own heart. I think of the George Weston you brought away from Dr. +Seaward's, who stood with you beside a father's deathbed, and who, +eighteen months ago, went into Mr. Compton's office; then I think of +George Weston of to-day, and I feel amazed at the change a few years has +made. I have asked myself a hundred times, am I really the same? Oh, +uncle! you do not know what I would give to be that boy again—to live +once more in that old world of sunshine."</p> + +<p>Tears started to George's eyes as he spoke, and Mr. Brunton could only +squeeze his hand, and say, "God bless you, my boy! God bless you!"</p> + +<p>A few days later Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston were one whole evening +together talking about George. Both hearts were heavy, but Mr. Brunton's +was the lighter of the two.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I think will be the very best thing for you and for +George," he said, "It is now the early spring, and the country is +beginning to look fresh and green. Leave this house and take one in the +country. I think George can easily be made to accede to this +proposition—he was always fond of country life and recreations. He can +have a season ticket on the railway, and come down every night. This +will wean him from his associates, and induce him to keep earlier hours, +and give us, too, a better opportunity to lure him back to his old +habits of life."</p> + +<p>The arrangements were made. Mrs. Weston, with that loving self-denial +which only a mother can exercise, gave up the house, and her circle of +friends, and took up her residence in the country, about twenty miles +from London. George was pleased with the change, and acquiesced in all +the plans which were made.</p> + +<p>About this time, an event happened of considerable importance in the +family history. An old relative of Mrs. Weston's, from whom she had +monetary expectations, died; and upon examination of the will, it was +found that a legacy had been left her of about three thousand pounds, +which was safely invested, and would bring to her an income of nearly a +hundred and fifty pounds a year.</p> + +<p>This was a cause of fear and rejoicing to Mrs. Weston—fear, lest it +should be a snare to George, as he would now have the whole of his +salary at his own disposal, there being no longer any necessity for her +to share it; rejoicing, that she should be able to give him that start +in life which had always been the desire and ambition of Mr. Weston.</p> + +<p>A few months' trial of Mr. Brunton's plan for weaning George from the +allurements of society in London, by taking a house in the country, +proved it to be a failure. For the first month, George went down almost +immediately after leaving business, but it was only for the first month. +Gradually it became later and later, until the last train was generally +the one by which he travelled. Then it sometimes occurred that he lost +the last train, and was obliged to stay at an hotel in town for the +night. At length, this occurred so frequently, that sometimes for three +nights out of the week he never went home at all. On one of these +occasions, a party of gentlemen in the commercial room of the hotel +where he was staying proposed a game of cards, and asked George to make +one at a rubber of whist. George had often played with his own friends, +but never before with total strangers. However, without any hesitation, +he accepted the invitation, and yielded to the proposition that they +should play sixpenny points. The game proceeded, rubber after rubber was +lost and won, and when George rose from the card-table at a late hour he +was loser to the amount of thirty shillings.</p> + +<p>"There is no playing against good cards," said George; "and the run of +luck has been in your favour to-night; but I will challenge you to +another game to-morrow evening, if you will be here?"</p> + +<p>The next night George played again, and won back a pound of the money +he had lost on the preceding evening. This was encouraging. "One more +trial," said George to himself, "and nobody will catch me card-playing +for money again with strangers." But that one more trial was the worst +of all. George lost three pounds! He could ill afford it; as it was he +was living at the very extent of his income, and three pounds was a +large sum. He was obliged to give an I O U for the amount, and in the +meantime borrow the sum from one of his friends.</p> + +<p>"Hardy, have you got three pounds to lend me?" he asked, next morning; +"you shall have it again to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I have not got that sum with me," said Hardy, "but I can get it for +you. Is it pressing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I had a hand at cards last night, and lost."</p> + +<p>"What! with Ashton?"</p> + +<p>"No; with some strangers at the hotel where I have hung out for the last +night or two."</p> + +<p>"You shall have that sum early this evening, George; and twice that +amount, if you will make me one promise. I ask it as an old friend, who +has a right to beg a favour. Give up card-playing, don't try to win back +what you have lost; no good can possibly come of it"</p> + +<p>"Is Saul among the prophets?" asked George, with something like a +sneer.</p> + +<p>"No, George Weston: but a looker-on at chess sees more of the game than +the player; and I have been looking at your last few moves in the game +of life, without taking part with you, and I see you will be checkmated +soon, if you do not alter your tactics. I can't blame you, nor do I wish +to, if I could; but when I first heard you had taken to card playing, I +did feel myself among the prophets then, and prophesied no good would +come of it."</p> + +<p>"When you first heard of my card playing?" asked George. "When did you +hear of it?"</p> + +<p>"A few days since. My father came up from the country by a late train +one night, and stayed at the hotel you patronize. There he saw you, and +told me about it."</p> + +<p>"Confound it! a fellow can't do a thing, even in this great city, +without somebody ferretting it out. But I don't mean to play again. I +have made a fool of myself too many times already; and it serves me +right that I have lost money."</p> + +<p>That evening, while George was making his way to the hotel, a lady was +journeying towards the railway station. An hour later, she was at the +house of Mrs. Weston, and was shown into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"I must apologise," said Mrs. Hardy, for it was she, "in calling upon +you at this hour: but I am very anxious to have some conversation with +you."</p> + +<p>"It is strange," said Mrs. Weston, "that as our sons have been intimate +so long, we should have continued strangers; but I am very delighted to +see you, Mrs. Hardy, for I have heard much of you."</p> + +<p>"It is with regard to the intercourse between your son and mine that I +have called. I do not wish to alarm you; but I feel it right that you +should be in possession of information I have of your son."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hardy then narrated the circumstances connected with her husband's +visit to the hotel on the evening when he found George there card +playing.</p> + +<p>"This evening," she continued, "my son returned home earlier than usual, +and went to his drawer, where I saw him take out some money—two or +three sovereigns. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and after +some difficulty I ascertained he intended lending it to your son. It +occurred to me at once that George Weston was in trouble with those men; +and I thought it only right that you should know."</p> + +<p>It was kind of Mrs. Hardy to shew this interest, and Mrs. Weston +esteemed her for it. But had they stood beside the table at which George +was seated while they were talking, or could they have seen the flush of +excitement as he threw down the cards, exclaiming, "By Jove! I've lost +again!" and have watched the flashing eye and heaving breast, they would +have felt, even more keenly than they did, how futile were words or +sympathies to check the evil.</p> + + + + +<a name="8"></a> +<h2>Chapter VIII.</h2> + +<h3>A Test Of Friendship.</h3> + +<p>We pass over two years of George Weston's life—years full of strange +experiences—and look into the office in Falcon-court one morning in the +summer of 18—.</p> + +<p>Mr. Compton is away on the Continent for a holiday tour, Mr. Sanders is +still the manager, and nearly all the same old faces are in the office. +George, who is now verging on the legal age of manhood, has risen to a +good position in the establishment, and is regarded as second only to +Mr. Sanders. He is wonderfully altered from when we saw him first in +that office. He is still handsome; but the old sparkling lustre of his +eye has gone, and no trace of boyishness is left.</p> + +<p>Hardy is still there. Two years have not made so much difference in him +as George. He looks older than he really is; but there is no mistaking +him for the quiet, gentlemanly Charles Hardy of former days. Lawson and +Williams are there, coarse and bloated young men, whose faces tell the +history of their lives. Hardy rarely exchanges a word with them. George +does more frequently, but not with the air of superiority he once did.</p> + +<p>A close observer would have noticed in George that morning a careworn +anxious look; would have heard an occasional sigh, and have seen him at +one time turning pale, and again flushing with a crimson red.</p> + +<p>"You are not well," said Hardy. "You have not done a stroke of work all +this morning; quite an unusual thing for you, George."</p> + +<p>"I am not well," he replied; "but it is nothing of importance. I shall +get Mr. Sanders to let me off for an hour's stroll when he comes in from +the Bank."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sanders came in from the Bank, but he was later than usual. His +round generally occupied an hour; this morning he had been gone between +two and three. George watched him anxiously as he took off his hat, +rubbed his nose violently with his pocket handkerchief, and stood gazing +into the fire, ejaculating every now and then, as was his custom if +anything extraordinary or disagreeable had happened, "Ah! umph!"</p> + +<p>"The old boy has found out that the wind has veered to the northeast, +or has stepped upon some orange peel," whispered Lawson to Williams, who +saw that something had gone wrong with the manager.</p> + +<p>"Your proposed stroll will be knocked on the head," said Hardy to +George. "Mr. Sanders is evidently in an ill humour."</p> + +<p>"I shall not trouble him about it," said George; "shirking work always +worries him, and he seems to be worried enough as it is."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Sanders had gazed in the fire for half an hour, and had walked +once or twice up and down the office, as his manner was on such +occasions, he turned to George and said, "I want to speak with you in +the next room."</p> + +<p>"I wish you a benefit, Weston," said Williams as he passed. "Recommend +him a day or two in the country, for the good of his health and our +happiness."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston," said the manager, when George had shut the door and seated +himself, "I am in great difficulties. This event has happened at a most +unfortunate time, Mr. Compton is away, and I don't know how to act for +the best. Will you give me your assistance in the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Cannot you make the accounts right, sir?" asked George. "I thought you +had satisfactorily arranged them last night."</p> + +<p>"No, Weston; I have been through them over and over again, but I cannot +get any nearer to a balance. I have been round to the Bank this morning +again, and have seen Mr. Smith about it, but he cannot assist me. +However, inquiries will be made this afternoon, and all our accounts +carefully checked and examined; in the meantime, I wish you would have +out the books and go through them for me. Hardy can assist you, if you +like."</p> + +<p>"I will do all I can for you, to make this matter right," said George; +"but I can do it better alone. If you will give Hardy the job I was +about, I will check the books here by myself."</p> + +<p>All that afternoon George sat alone in Mr. Compton's room surrounded +with books and papers. But he did not examine them. Resting his head +upon his hands, he looked upon them and sighed. Now the perspiration +stood in big drops upon his forehead and his hands trembled. Then he +would walk up and down the room, halting to take deep draughts of water +from a bottle on the table.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sanders occasionally looked in to ask how he was going on, and if he +had discovered the error.</p> + +<p>"No," said George; "the accounts seem right; but I cannot make them +agree with the cash-book. There is still a hundred pounds short; but I +will go through them again if you like."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had better. I expect Mr. Smith here by six o'clock; will +you remain with me and see him? He may assist us."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said George; "I feel as anxious as you do about the matter, +for all the bills and cheques have passed through my hands as well as +yours; and I shall not rest easy until the missing amount is +discovered."</p> + +<p>Mr. Smith arrived just as the clerks were leaving the office, and Mr. +Sanders and George were alone with him.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Smith, "we have gone carefully over every item to-day, +and at last the defalcation is seen. This cheque," he continued, +producing the document, "is forged. The signature is unquestionably Mr. +Compton's, but the rest of the writing is counterfeit."</p> + +<p>"A forged cheque!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders, aghast; "impossible!"</p> + +<p>"There must be some mistake here," said George, "the accounts in our +books, if I recollect rightly, correspond with the cheques; but—"</p> + +<p>"It is a clumsily arranged affair, although the forgery is a +masterpiece of penmanship," said Mr. Smith; "and if it passes first +through your office, and is entered in your books with the false amount, +it is clear that some one in your employ has committed the offence. I +leave the matter now with you for the present," he added, to Mr. +Sanders; "of course you will put the case at once into the proper medium +and find out the offender."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Smith had gone, George sat down again in the seat he had +occupied during that long afternoon, pale and exhausted.</p> + +<p>"This is a lamentable business," said Mr. Sanders, pacing the room, "a +lamentable business, indeed! I confess I am completely baffled. Mr. +Weston, I look to you for assistance. Can you form any idea how this +matter has come about? Have you suspicion of any of the clerks?"</p> + +<p>"I am equally at a loss with you how to manage in this case. I have no +reason to doubt the integrity of any one in this office. Except one," +said George, as if a sudden idea had come to his mind. "Yes, I have a +suspicion of one; but I cannot tell even you who it is, until I have +made inquiries sufficient to warrant the suspicion. Can you let the +affair rest over to-night, and in the meantime I will do what I can, and +confer with you in the morning."</p> + +<p>"That seems the only plan," answered Mr. Sanders. "If I can render any +assistance in making these inquiries, I will."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, you will have trouble enough in the matter as it is; and +I can do what I have to do better alone."</p> + +<p>Half an hour after this conversation, a cab was travelling at the utmost +speed along the Clapham road. It stopped at the house of Harry Ashton, +and George alighted.</p> + +<p>"Ashton," said he, "I want to speak to you for two minutes. I have got +into trouble; don't ask me how, or in what way. Unless I can borrow a +hundred pounds to-night, I am ruined. Can you get it for me?"</p> + +<p>"My dear George, sit down and calm yourself, and we will talk the matter +over," said Ashton. "It strikes me you are up to some joke, or you would +never suppose that I, an assistant surveyor with a present limited +income, could fork out a hundred pounds down as a hammer.</p> + +<p>"I am not joking. I dare not explain more. I require your confidence for +what I have already said; but I know you have money, and moneyed +friends. Can you get it for me anyhow, from anywhere?"</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot, and that's plump," answered Ashton; "it is the end of the +quarter, and I have not more than ten pounds in my pocket You are +welcome to that, if it is any good; but I cannot go into the country to +my father's to-night, that is very certain; and if I could, he would not +advance so much without knowing exactly what it was for; nor should I +care to lend that sum, even to you, George, unless I knew what you were +going to do with it, and when I should see it back. If it is so +pressing, you might have my ten, ten more from Dixon, and I could get a +pound or two from other sources."</p> + +<p>"No, that would take too long, and I have but an hour or two to make the +arrangements." As he spoke, George fell into a chair, and buried his +face in his hands.</p> + +<p>"What, George, my old pippin, what is the matter?" said Ashton, going to +him. "You have lost at cards again, I suppose: but take heart, man, +never get out of pluck for such a thing as that. But you are ill, I know +you are, you are as white as a sheet. Here, take tins glass of brandy."</p> + +<p>"I only feel faint." said George, rising. "I shall be all right when I +get out into the open air. Good-bye, Ashton, my old school-chum, we +shall never meet again after to-night; but I shan't forget our happy +days together—I mean the days at Dr. Seaward's—they were the happy +ones, after all."</p> + +<p>"George, you are ill, and your brain is touched. Not meet again after +to-night? Nonsense, we don't part so easily, if that is the case;" and +Ashton locked the door, and put the key in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Unfasten that door!" almost shouted George; "you do not know my +strength at this moment, and I might do you some harm; but I should not +like to part with my oldest friend like that. Open the door!"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," answered Ashton. "Tell me more particulars, and I +will try what I can do in getting the money."</p> + +<p>"No; you have told me you cannot. I have one more chance elsewhere; let +me try that. Ashton, do not be a fool; open that door, and let me go."</p> + +<p>"Then I will go with you," answered Ashton; and he unlocked the door. +But while he turned to get his hat, George rushed from the room, opened +the hall-door, and, closing it again upon Ashton, jumped into the cab +awaiting him, and giving the word, "Islington, quick!" drove off, +leaving his friend in the road, running after the vehicle, and calling +upon the driver to stop.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind him," George called to the man; "an extra five shillings for +driving quickly."</p> + +<p>Ashton was at his wit's end. He ran on, till he could run no longer. +Just then, an empty cab passing, he hailed the driver.</p> + +<p>"Drive after that cab in front," said Ashton, as he got in; "follow it +wherever it goes. Sharp's the word, man!"</p> + +<p>It was a long time before the traffic in the roads allowed Ashton's cab +to overtake the one ahead; but both came up nearly abreast in the +Waterloo road, and then the one he was pursuing turned abruptly towards +the railway station.</p> + +<p>"Ah! George, my old fellow," said Ashton to himself, "you little think I +have been so closely on your scent; but I knew I had not seen the last +of you."</p> + +<p>Both cabs drew up at the station steps together. Ashton jumped out, and +ran to meet George; but blank was his astonishment to see an oldish lady +and her attendant alight from the vehicle, which he had imagined +contained his friend!</p> + +<p>We will leave Ashton at the Waterloo station in a mortified and +disconsolate state, quarrelling with the driver for having pursued the +wrong cab, and follow George Weston to Islington.</p> + +<p>"Hardy," he said, as soon as he found himself alone with his friend, +"are you willing to help me, to save me, perhaps, from ruin? I want to +raise a hundred pounds to-night. I must have it. Do you think you can get +it for me?"</p> + +<p>"Me get a hundred pounds? Why, George, my friend, you know the thing is +a clear impossibility. I could not get it, if it were to save my own +life. But why is it so urgent?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You will know in a day or two. I have now one resource left, and only +one. Will you go to-night to my uncle, Mr. Brunton. Tell him that I want +to save a friend from ruin, and want to borrow a hundred and fifty +pounds, which shall be faithfully repaid. Do not give him to understand +I want it for myself, but that it is for a friend dear to him and to me. +Use every argument you can, and above everything persuade him not to +make any inquiries about it at present. Say I shall have to take part of +it into the country to-morrow morning, and I will see him or write to him +in the evening. Say anything you like, so that you can get the money +for me, and prevent him coming to the office to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"George, I am afraid you have got into some bad business again," said +Hardy. "You know I am willing to help you; but I cannot do so, if it is +to encourage you in getting yourself into still greater trouble."</p> + +<p>"This is the last time, Hardy, I shall ever ask a favour of you. Do +assist me; you cannot guess the consequences if you do not."</p> + +<p>"Then tell me, George, what it is that is upsetting you. I never saw you +look so wild and excited before. You can confide in me, old fellow; we +have always kept each other's counsel."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow you shall know all. Now, do start off at once, and see what +you can do. If you cannot bring all the money, bring what you can. Put +the case urgently to my uncle; he cannot refuse me. I will be here again +in about three hours' time; it will not take you longer than that."</p> + +<p>Hardy took a cab, and drove off at once. George remained in the street; +he paced up and down, and took no rest—he was far too excited and +nervous for that. He had got a dangerous game to play, and his plans +were vague and shadowy. He had promised Mr. Sanders he would make +inquiries about the person he suspected had forged the cheque, and let +him know in the morning. His plan was to try and raise the money, pay it +to Mr. Sanders on account of the transgressor, and induce him to take no +further steps until Mr. Compton returned home. On no other ground would +he refund the money on behalf of the forger; and unless Mr. Sanders +would agree to these terms, George was determined the matter might take +its own way, and be placed in the hands of the magistrates or police.</p> + +<p>The hours seemed like days to George while Hardy was on his mission. At +length he returned.</p> + +<p>"What success?" asked George running to meet him as soon as he came in +view.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle is in a terrible state of alarm on your account," replied +Hardy, "and I fear he will be at the office some time to-morrow, although +I tried to persuade him not to do so, because it was no matter in which +you were so deeply interested as he supposed. But he cannot lend you the +money, nor can he get the amount you want until to-morrow afternoon. +However he had fifty pounds with him, and he has sent that."</p> + +<p>George took it eagerly. "My plan must fail," he said to Hardy; "but it +would only have been a question of time after all. Hardy, you will hear +strange reports of me after to-morrow; do not believe them all; remember +your old friend as you once knew him, not as report speaks of him. +Good-night, old fellow, you have been a good friend to me. I wish we +could have parted differently."</p> + +<p>"Parted!" ejaculated Hardy; "what do you mean? where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell, but I shall see you at the office to-morrow morning as +usual; I will tell you more then. Do not say a word to anybody about +what has occurred to-night. I know I may trust you; may I not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, always," answered Hardy; "but I wish you would trust me a little +more, and let me share this trouble with you. We have been old friends +now for years, George; shared ups and downs, and joys and sorrows +together; been brothers in everything which concerned each other's +welfare: and now you are distressed, why not relieve yourself by letting +me bear part of it with you? Recollect our old and earliest days of +friendship, and show that they are still dear to you, as they are to me, +by telling me what has gone wrong with you, and how I can serve or +soothe you in the emergency."</p> + +<p>George could not bear this last touch of kindness. Had Hardy reproached +him for having acted foolishly, or warned him from getting into future +trouble; had he even accused him of having sought to lead others astray, +besides wandering in downward paths himself, George could have listened +calmly and unmoved! but this out-going of his friend's heart overcame +him, and he burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Hardy," he said, wringing his friend's hand. "If a prayer +may come from my lips, so long unused to prayer, I say God bless you, +and preserve you from such a lot as mine." George could not utter +another word; he could only shake hands again, and then hurried away to +the hotel where he sometimes slept.</p> + +<p>It was past midnight when he arrived there. Calling for some spirits and +water, and writing materials, he seated himself dejectedly at a table +and wrote. The first letter ran as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"MY DEAREST MOTHER,</p> + +<p>"I have some painful news to tell you—so painful that I would rather you +should have received intelligence of my death, than that which this +letter contains. I know you will not judge me harshly, dear mother; I +know you will stretch out to me your forgiveness, and still pray for me +that I may receive pardon from <i>your</i> heavenly Father—would I could say +<i>mine</i>.</p> + +<p>"Step by step I have been going wrong, as you know—as I might have +known—and now I have sunk to the lowest depths, from which I shall +never rise again. Mother, I know the sorrow you will feel when you hear +what has happened. I grieve more for you than I do for myself; I would +give all the world, if I had it, to save your heart the misery which +awaits it, from the conduct of a worthless, rebellious son.</p> + +<p>"I cannot bear to see that sorrow. My heart seems nearly broken as it +is, and it would quite break if I were to see you suffering as you will +suffer.</p> + +<p>"I could not bear to see again any whom I have known under other +circumstances. I could not bear to be taunted with all the remembrances +of the past. Dear mother, I have resolved to leave you—leave +London—perhaps leave England. I <i>may</i> never see you again; it is better +for you that I never should.</p> + +<p>"My tears blind me as I write; if tears could cleanse the past, my guilt +would be soon removed. God bless you, dearest mother! I will write to +you again; and some day, after I have been into new scenes, started anew +in life, and won back again the character I have lost—then, perhaps, I +may once more see you again.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Brunton will tell you more. He will comfort you; he must be +husband, brother, and son to you now.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, my dearest mother! I have so wronged you, have been such +a continual trouble to you, instead of the comfort poor father thought I +should have been, and so unworthy of your love, that I hardly dare hope +you will forgive and forget the past, and still pray for</p> + +<p align="right">"Your erring Son—<br /> +"GEORGE WESTON."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>George then wrote two letters to Mr. Brunton. In one of them he thanked +him for all his care and kindness, passionately regretted the causes of +anxiety he had given him, and the disgrace which now attached to his +name. In the other, he begged the loan of the £50 sent to him through +Hardy, which, he said, he hoped to pay back in a few years. He also +requested that Mr. Brunton would arrange all his accounts, and pay them +either from his mother's income, or by advancing the money as a loan.</p> + +<p>When the morning dawned, it found George still writing. As the clock +struck seven, he packed up what few things he had with him, paid his +hotel bill, and drove off to Falcon-court. He was there by eight +o'clock, before any of the clerks had arrived.</p> + +<p>"Have the letters come?" he asked the housekeeper.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, they are in Mr. Compton's room," was the answer.</p> + +<p>George hastened into the room, looked through the packet, and alighting +upon a letter with a foreign post-mark addressed to Mr. Sanders in Mr. +Compton's handwriting, he broke the seal. The note was short, merely +saying that he had arrived in Paris, on his way home, and expected to be +back in a day or two; therefore any communications must be forwarded at +once, or he would have left Paris.</p> + +<p>George went direct to the Electric Telegraph Office. A form was handed +to him, on which the message he desired to send must be written, and he +filled it up thus:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"<i>From Mr. Sanders to Mr. Compton</i>.</p> + +<p>"Come back at once. A cheque has been forged in your name for <i>£100.</i> +George Weston is the forger. It is a clear and aggravated case. Shall he +be arrested? Will you prosecute? Answer at once."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>In an incredibly short space of time an answer was returned. George was +at the Telegraph Office to receive it.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"<i>From Mr. Compton to Mr. Sanders.</i></p> + +<p>"I will return to-morrow. Take no steps in the matter; let it be kept +silent, I am deeply grieved, but I will not prosecute under any +circumstances."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Weston," said Mr. Sanders, when George entered the office," +I expected you would have been here before; but I suppose you have had +some difficulty in your investigations?"</p> + +<p>"I have had difficulty," George answered. "I have been endeavouring to +borrow a hundred pounds to pay the deficiency, and then I would have +screened the forger; but my plan has failed, and it is better that it +should, because the innocent would have been sure to have suffered for +the guilty. I am now bound to tell you the name of the criminal upon his +own confession."</p> + +<p>"Who is it? who is it?" asked Mr. Sanders, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I—George Weston," he answered. "No matter how I did it, or why; I +alone am guilty."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sanders caught hold of the back of a chair for support. His hands +trembled, and his voice failed him.</p> + +<p>"It is a shock to you, sir," said George; "and it will be a shock to Mr. +Compton. Give him this letter when he comes home, it will explain the +circumstances to him. I deeply regret that I should have caused you so +much anxiety as I have during the past week, while this inquiry has been +pending. I knew the truth must come out sooner or later—but I would +rather you should know it from me; crushed and ruined as I am, I have no +hope that you will look with any other feelings than those of abhorrence +on me, but you do not know the heavy punishment I have already suffered, +or you would feel for me."</p> + +<p>"Are you aware, George Weston, that there is a yet heavier punishment, +and that, as Mr. Compton's representative, I shall feel it my painful +duty to—"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; here is Mr. Compton's opinion upon the case," said George, +handing the telegraphic message to Mr. Sanders, who listened with +astonishment as he explained the circumstances. "But should Mr. Compton, +upon a careful examination into the case, wish to prosecute," he +continued, "I will appear whenever and wherever he pleases. And now, Mr. +Sanders, I leave this office, ruined and disgraced, the result of my own +folly and sin."</p> + +<p>George spoke hoarsely, and his face was pale as Death. Mr. Sanders was +moved; and put out his hand to shake hands with him, and say good-bye, +but George held his back.</p> + +<p>"Remember, sir, you are an honest man; you cannot shake hands with me," +said George.</p> + +<p>"Weston, I am not your judge; there is One who will judge not only this +act, but all the acts that have led to it," said Mr. Sanders, solemnly. +"I have had more interest and greater hopes in you than in any young man +who ever came into this office; and I feel more sorrow now, on your +account, than I can put into words. Do not let this great and disastrous +fall sink you into lower depths of sin. If you have forfeited man's +respect and esteem, there is a God with whom there is mercy and +forgiveness. Seek Him, and may He bless you! Good-bye, George Weston," +and the manager, with tears in his eyes, wrung the cold, trembling hand +that was stretched out to his.</p> + +<p>George took up his carpet-bag, which he had brought from the hotel, and +was about to leave, but he paused a moment.</p> + +<p>"Will you send Hardy in here?" he asked Mr. Sanders. "I must have a word +with him before I go."</p> + +<p>Hardy had been expecting all the morning to have some explanation from +George, and had been uneasy at his absence. When he went into Mr. +Compton's room he was surprised to see George, with his bag in his hand, +ready to make a departure.</p> + +<p>"Hardy," said George, "I told you last night I should soon have to bid +you good-bye, and now the time has arrived. I am going away from the +office, and perhaps from England, but I cannot tell you where I am +going. I leave in disgrace; my once good name is now blighted and +withered; my old friends will look upon me with abhorrence."</p> + +<p>"No, George, I am one of your old friends; I never shall," interrupted +Hardy. "I do not know what you have done, nor do I wish to know, but I +cannot believe your heart and disposition are changed, or will ever +change so much as to make me regard you in any other light than that of +a dear and valued friend. But where are you going, George? Do tell me +that."</p> + +<p>"No, Hardy, I cannot. I am going away, God only knows where; it may be +abroad, it may not. I am going somewhere where I shall not be known, and +where I can try to work back for myself a character and a good name, +which I can never redeem in London. Some day I may let you know where I +am."</p> + +<p>"But, George, does your mother know where you are going?"</p> + +<p>"No," said George, and his voice was tremulous as he spoke. "No; I have +no mother now. I am too fallen to claim relationship with one so good +and noble and holy as my mother is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, George, give up this wild scheme! Have you thought that you are +going the most direct way to break your mother's heart, and to make her +life, as well as your own, blank, solitary, and miserable? Whatever +wrong you have done, do not add to it by breaking that commandment which +bids us honour our parents. Your mother has claims upon you which you +have no right to disregard in this way."</p> + +<p>"I have thought it all well over, Hardy. I believe it is for her good +as well as for mine that our paths should run differently, but I cannot +explain all now. I am in dread lest my uncle should call here before I +get away. Hardy, good-bye, old fellow."</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot say good-bye yet. George, give me your address; promise to +let me see you again, and I will promise to keep your secret sacredly."</p> + +<p>"I do not know where I am going; I have no fixed plan; but I do promise +to write to you, Hardy."</p> + +<p>"And now, George, make me one other promise. If you are in difficulties, +and I can assist you, or do anything for you in any way, at any time, +you will let me know—remember I shall always be Charles Hardy to you, +and you will always be George Weston to me. Do you agree?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Hardy, I agree. I cannot thank you. I cannot say what I would, or +tell you what I feel. May you be blessed and be happy, and never know +what it is to have a heavy, broken heart like mine. And now one promise +from you. Go and see my mother; try and comfort her; tell her how I +grieve to part from her."</p> + +<p>George could not continue; the nervous twitching of his face showed the +struggle within, and it was a relief when the hot tears broke through +and coursed down his cheek. Hardy was greatly affected. He loved George +with an intensity of love like that which knit together the soul of +Jonathan and David; he had been to him more than a brother ever since +they had been acquainted; in hours of business and recreation, in joys +and sorrows, in plans and aims, they had been one; and now the tie was +to be severed, and severed under such sad circumstances.</p> + +<p>There is a solemnity about sorrow which speech desecrates. Not another +word was spoken by either—both hearts were too full for that; but as +the tears ran thickly down their cheeks, they grasped each other's hand, +and then, fairly sobbing, George hurried from the office.</p> + + + + +<a name="9"></a> +<h2>Chapter IX.</h2> + +<h3>In Exile.</h3> + +<p>George went direct from the office to the railway station, and took a +ticket to Plymouth. He had but a short time to wait before the train +left, and bore him away. The green fields and smiling country were +nothing to him; he felt no pleasure in seeing the merry, happy children +playing in the lanes, as the train whizzed past. The greetings of +friends on the platforms at the different stations only made him sigh. +Who would greet him on his journeys? Tired and worn out with sleepless +nights and anxious days, he tried to doze, but the attempt was vain. He +feared lest some one might have tracked his steps to the station, and +have telegraphed for him to be stopped at the terminus. Then, when he +had thought and pondered over such probabilities as these, and +endeavoured to dismiss them, he tried to form some plans for the future; +but all the future was dark—no ray of light, however faint or distant, +could be seen, and every plan he would make must be left to +circumstances. When the passengers alighted at one of the stations to +take refreshments, George got out too, for the purpose of breaking his +long fast. He tried to eat a biscuit, but he could not get it down,—all +appetite was gone; so, drinking a glass of ale, he wandered to the book +stall, and purchased a newspaper to read during the remainder of the +journey. The train started off again, and George settled himself to +read. The first thing that met his eye was an account of the assizes, +and the first case was headed, "Forgery by a Banker's Clerk." This +brought back to remembrance, more vividly than ever, the sad scenes of +the past few days; he threw the paper out of the window, and abandoned +himself to thought.</p> + +<p>At last the train arrived at Plymouth. George hastened on to the +platform, and walked rapidly into the town, fearing lest any one should +recognize him, or lest any official should wish to detain him. With his +bag in hand, he wandered through the streets, uncertain what to do or +where to go. Presently he came to a small house, in an obscure street, +with a placard in the window stating that apartments were to let. He +knocked, and was answered by the landlady, a respectable looking woman, +who told him that she had a bedroom and sitting-room to let, and would +accommodate him on reasonable terms. George said he should not require +the room more than a few days, or a week, as he was about to leave by +one of the vessels in the port. The terms were arranged, and he at once +took possession. As it was very late, he thought he would go to bed +without delay.</p> + +<p>"Will you not have some supper first?" asked the landlady.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said George: "I am tired with my journey, and shall be +glad to get to sleep as soon as I can."</p> + +<p>"But, sir, you really look ill," persisted the landlady, who was a kind, +motherly woman; "will you let me make you a little spirits and water?"</p> + +<p>"I will not refuse that," said George, "for I do feel ill. Parting with +friends and relatives is at all times a disagreeable matter, and I have +bidden good-bye to them in London to-day, rather than bring them down +here."</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir! parting is a sad thing," answered the woman. "It is two years +since my son went to sea; he was much about your age, sir, and he went +away against my wish, and I have never seen or heard from him since. He +has nearly broken my heart, poor boy, and left me all alone in this +wide, hard world."</p> + +<p>George was glad to have some one to talk to, but he was distressed by +this narration of his landlady. If she mourned for her son, who had been +absent for two years, how would his mother mourn?</p> + +<p>George passed a restless, anxious night; when he dozed off to sleep, it +was only to be tormented with harrowing dreams, in which he fancied +himself at one time standing before a judge in a court of justice, +answering to the crime of forgery. At another, gazing upon a funeral +procession moving slowly and solemnly along, with his Uncle Brunton +following as sole mourner. Then he would start up, half with joy and +half with sorrow, as he fancied he heard voices like those of his mother +and uncle calling to him from the street. His head ached, and his heart +was heavy. He felt thankful when the morning dawned, and it was time to +rise. He bathed his hot, feverish head in water, and dressed; but as he +passed by the looking-glass and caught a glance at his pale, haggard +countenance, so changed within a few short hours, he started.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! give me strength! give me strength!" he said. "If I should be +ill, if anything should happen to me, what should I do? I am all alone; +there is no one to care for me now!" And he sank down in a chair, +burying his face in his hands as if to hide the picture his mind had +drawn.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, he strolled to the docks, looked over some of the +vessels, and made inquiries about the shipping offices. He learned that +a ship was about to sail immediately to Port Natal, and that all +information could be obtained of the agents. Thither George repaired; +the agent gave him an exaggerated account of the signal prosperity which +all enterprising young men met with in Natal, praised Pietermaritzburg, +the capital of the colony, and offered to give him letters of +introduction to residents there, who would advise him as to the best +ways of making a comfortable living. The agent then took him down to the +vessel, told him that he must take a passage at once, if he wished to +leave by her, as she would sail in two or three days at the latest. It +was a matter of comparative indifference to George where he went—the +large, lonely world was before him, and Port Natal might make him as +good a home as anywhere else. George went back with the agent to the +office, and paid a deposit of fifteen pounds on the passage money.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, sir?" asked the agent, with pen in hand, ready to +make the entry.</p> + +<p>George coloured as he answered, "Frederick Vincent."</p> + +<p>"Then, Mr. Vincent, you will be on board not later than nine o'clock on +Tuesday morning; the vessel will go out of harbour by twelve. You can +come on board as much earlier as you like, but I have named the latest +time. You had better send your luggage down on Monday."</p> + +<p>"Luggage?" said George. "Oh, yes! that shall be sent in time."</p> + +<p>As George returned to his lodgings, he felt even more wretched than when +he started out It was Wednesday morning, and the vessel would not leave +till the following Tuesday. The excitement of choosing a vessel was +over; there was now only the anxiety and suspense of waiting its +departure. True, he had his outfit to purchase, but this would have to +be done furtively; he could not bear to be walking in the streets in +broad daylight, noticed by passers-by, every one of whom he fancied knew +his whole history, and was plotting either to prevent his departure, or +to reveal his secret.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murdoch (that was the name of his landlady) endeavoured to make him +as comfortable as possible in his apartments; but external comfort was +nothing to George—he wanted some word of love, some one to talk to, as +in days of old. He avoided conversation as much as possible with Mrs. +Murdoch, for she would talk of her absent son, and every word went as an +arrow to George's heart.</p> + +<p>That first day seemed a week. Hour after hour dragged wearily along, and +when six o'clock in the evening came, George thought all time must have +received some disarrangement, for it seemed as if days had elapsed since +the morning. He went out after dark to a neighbouring shop and made some +purchases of outfit; but he was thankful when he had completed his task, +for he had noticed a man walking backwards and forwards in front of the +shop, and he felt a nervous dread lest it should be some spy upon him. +He resolved that he would remain in his rooms, and not go out again +until he left for the voyage on Tuesday, but would ask Mrs. Murdoch to +make the remainder of the necessary purchases for him.</p> + +<p>How lonely and desolate George felt that night! More than once he half +determined rather to bear shame and reproach, and have the society of +those he loved, than continue in that dreadful isolation. He was +thoroughly unmanned. "Oh, that Hardy or Ashton were here, or any friend, +just to say, 'George Weston, old fellow,' once more; what a weight of +dreariness it would remove!" Then he would wonder what was going on at +home, whether his mother was plunged in grief, or whether she was +saying, "He has brought it all on himself, let him bear it." But George +could not reconcile this last thought; he tried hard to cherish it; he +felt he would infinitely rather know his mother was filled with anger +and abhorrence at his crime, than that she mourned for him, and longed +to press him to her bosom and bind up the wounded heart. But he could +not shake off this last idea. It haunted him every moment, and added to +the weight of sorrow which seemed crushing him.</p> + +<p>Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed, and George was still the victim +to anxiety and corroding care. He had paced his room each day, and +tossed restlessly in his bed each night; had tried reading and writing, +to while away the time, and had found every attempt futile.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murdoch was anxious on his account.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent," she said to him, "you eat nothing, you take no exercise; +you don't sleep at night, for I can hear you, from my room, tossing +about; and I am doctor enough to know that you are ill, and will be +worse, if you do not make some alteration. Do be persuaded by me, and +take some little recreation, or else you will not be in a fit state to +go on board on Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, Mrs. Murdoch," replied George, "but I have no bodily +ailment. If I could get a change of thought, that is the best physic for +a mind diseased."</p> + +<p>"It is, sir," replied the landlady; "and now will you think me rude if I +tell you how you may have that change of thought? You are about to start +on a very dangerous voyage; for long months you will have the sky above +and the sea below, and only a few planks between you and death. Have +you, sir, committed your way to the Lord, and placed your life in His +hands? I know it is a strange thing to ask you, but I hope you will not +be offended. You have seemed so sad for the past day or two, that I +could not help feeling you wanted comfort, and none can give it but the +Heavenly Friend."</p> + +<p>"I do want comfort and support, Mrs. Murdoch, but—"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, there is no <i>but</i> in the case. 'Come onto Me, all ye that are +weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest'—is said to all; and +we only have to go to Him to find all we want."</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. Murdoch, I will see if I cannot combine both your +suggestions; and as to-morrow will be Sunday, it will be a recreation to +go to some church or chapel. Can you recommend me a good preacher?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, that I can. If you will go to my pew at chapel to-morrow +morning, I am sure you will like the gentleman who preaches there."</p> + +<p>"Then I will go," said George.</p> + +<p>When he went up to his room again, those few words of Mrs. Murdoch were +still speaking to him.</p> + +<p>"'Weary and heavy laden!' he thought; surely that is my lot. I so young, +once so happy, to feel weary and heavy laden; how strange! But no, it is +not strange—it is natural. Sin brings its punishment, and it is hard +work, bearing its burden! oh! that I could find some spot where I could +rest."</p> + +<p>There was a spot, not far from George, where he could have rested, but +he did not know it. He was oppressed with his weariness, and he longed +for peace and ease of mind to come to him. He did not consider the +words, "Come unto ME."</p> + +<p>There was an old Family Bible on the book-case in his room, and George +took it down. It was a long time since he had read the Word of God: and +when he had it was only to compare it with the dangerous opinions he had +received, and find out what he imagined to be its discrepancies and +contradictions. A feeling of remorse came over him as he put the book on +the table.</p> + +<p>"What right have I to open this book, or attempt to find anything here +for encouragement?" he asked himself. "I have mocked and ridiculed it in +days of prosperity, and yet I am willing to take it up in trouble, as if +it were an old friend. Ah! it was an old friend once, but that has all +gone by now."</p> + +<p>He sat a long time looking at the book. Perhaps there is nothing that +brings back the memories of the past more vividly than the sight of a +Family Bible to one who has long ceased to read and love it. There are +old scenes of childhood associated with it which time can never erase. +Who cannot remember sitting on his mother's knee, or with chair drawn up +beside his father, hearing its sweet music sounded in the home circle on +the Sabbath night? Who can forget the last evening of the holidays +before going back to school, when the old book was brought out, and some +useful text was selected as a monitor and remembrancer? Who can forget +the time when some loved one was ill, and as friends and relatives sat +round the bed of the invalid, the Book was laid upon the table, and +words of comfort were proclaimed to all.</p> + +<p>Many and many a scene moved past George in the mental panorama which the +sight of Mrs. Murdoch's book created. He seemed not to be remembering, +but to be living in the former days. There was his father seated in the +old arm-chair, with Carlo, the faithful dog at his feet, and his elbows +rented upon the table, and his head upon his hand—a favourite +attitude—as he read the Sacred Word. There was dear old Dr. Seaward, +with his spectacles stuck up on his forehead, in his study at +Folkestone, and a party of boys round him, listening eagerly to the +words of instruction and advice which fell from his lips.</p> + +<p>And then the past merged into the present, and George started to find +himself alone in a strange room, in a strange town, with a strange Bible +before him.</p> + +<p>He opened the Book and read. The fifty-first Psalm was the portion of +Scripture to which he inadvertently turned, commencing, "Have mercy upon +me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness; according unto the +multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions."</p> + +<p>He read the Psalm through in amazement. Again he read it, with +increased wonder and astonishment, that any one should have made a +prayer so exactly like that which he felt in his heart he wanted to +pray; and at last he went to the door and locked it, for fear of +interruption, took the Bible from the table and placed it on a chair, +and kneeling down read the prayer again; and repeating it aloud, +sentence by sentence, offered it up as his petition to the throne of +Mercy.</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p>On Sunday morning, when the bells were ringing their glad peals, and the +people were already in the streets, on their way to the different places +of worship, George started off, directed by Mrs. Murdoch, to the chapel +of which she had spoken to him.</p> + +<p>He felt very sad as he walked along; it was the last Sunday, perhaps, he +should ever spend in England, and he must spend it alone, an alien from +all whom he loved. The temporary calm which he had experienced on the +previous evening had gone; no prayer for assistance through the day had +issued from his lips that morning, but there was the old feeling of +shame, and chagrin, and disgrace, which had haunted him for the past +week, and with it the dogged determination to bear up against it until +it should be lost in forgetfulness. But George had resolved to go to +chapel that morning, because he felt he wanted a change of some sort, +and there was a melancholy pleasure in spending a part of his last +Sunday in England after his once customary manner.</p> + +<p>The preacher was an old gentleman, of a mild, benevolent countenance, +and with a winning, persuasive manner. When he gave out the first hymn, +reading it solemnly and impressively, George felt he should have +pleasure in listening to the sermon. The congregation joined in the hymn +of praise, with heart and voice lifted up to the God of the Sabbath in +thanksgiving. The singing was rich and good, and George, who was a +passionate lover of music, was touched by its sweet harmony. He did not +join in the hymn, his heart was too full for that; but the strains were +soothing, and produced a natural, reverential emotion which he had been +long unaccustomed to feel.</p> + +<p>The minister took for his text the words, "'Lord, if thou wilt, thou +canst make me clean.' And Jesus put forth His hand, and touched him, +saying, 'I will, be thou clean.'"</p> + +<p>A rush of joy thrilled through George as he heard the words. His +attention was rivetted as he listened to the simple story of the leper +being restored to health; and when the preacher drew the comparison +between leprosy and sin, and revealed Jesus as the Great Physician to +the sick soul, who, in reply to the heartfelt wish, could say, "Thy +sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee," George felt the whole +strength of his soul concentrated in that one desire, "Lord, if thou +wilt, thou canst make <i>me</i> clean." He looked into his own heart—he was +almost afraid to look—and saw the ravages of disease there. He thought +of his past life; there was not one thing to recommend him to God. +<b>Never</b> before had he seen his sin in the light in which it was now +revealed by God's Word. He had viewed it in relation to man's opinion, +and his own consciousness; but now the Holy Spirit was striving within +him, and showing him his position in the sight of God.</p> + +<p>The preacher went on to unfold the sweet story of the Cross, to tell of +the simple plan of salvation, and to point to Jesus, the Lamb of God, +"who taketh away the sins of the world." It seemed to George as if he +had never heard the glad tidings before; it had never made the hot tear +run down his cheek, as he thought of the Saviour suffering for sins not +His own, until now; it had never before torn the agonised sigh from his +heart, as the truth flashed before him that it was he who had helped to +nail the Holy One to the accursed tree; he had never realised before +that earth was but the portal to the heavenly mansions—that time was +but the herald of eternity. Now, all these things came crowding upon his +mind, and when the sermon concluded he was in a bewilderment of joy and +sorrow.</p> + +<p>A parting hymn was sung—that glorious old hymn—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"There is a fountain filled with blood,<br /> + Drawn from Emmanuel's veins."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>When it came to those lines—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"The dying <i>thief</i> rejoiced to see<br /> + That fountain in his day;<br /> +And there may I, though vile as he,<br /> + Wash all my sins away:"</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>he could bear it no longer: he could not restrain the torrent of tears +which was struggling to get free; he could not stay in that assembly of +people; he must be alone, alone with God, alone with his own heart.</p> + +<p>When he reached his apartments, he went immediately to his room, and +there, beside his bed, he knelt and poured out his soul to God. Words +could not tell his wants, words could not express his contrition; but +there he knelt, a silent pleader, presenting himself with all the dark +catalogue of a life's sin before his dishonoured God.</p> + +<p>George thought he had experienced the extremity of sorrow during the few +days he had been in Plymouth, but it was as nothing compared with that +he now felt. He had grieved over name and reputation lost, prospects +blighted, and self-respect forfeited, but now he mourned over a God +dishonoured, a Saviour slighted, a life mis-spent. Is there any sorrow +like unto that sorrow which is felt by a soul crushed beneath the sense +of sin?</p> + +<p>How that day passed, George hardly knew. He felt his whole life +epitomised in those few hours spent in solemn confession. Oh, how he +longed to realise a sense of pardon—to know and feel, as the leper knew +and felt, that he was made clean. But he could not do so: he only felt +himself lost and ruined, and found expression but in one cry, "Unclean! +unclean!"</p> + +<p>He was aroused in the evening by the ringing of church bells again; and, +taking a hasty cup of tea, at Mrs. Murdoch's solicitation, he once more +bent his steps to the place of worship he had visited in the morning, +with the earnest desire and prayer that he might hear such truths +taught as would enable him to see Jesus.</p> + +<p>How often does God "<i>devise means</i> that His banished be not expelled +from Him," and in His providential mercy order those events and +circumstances to occur, which are instrumental in preparing the mind for +the reception of His truth! It was no chance, no mere coincidence, that +the preacher took for his text those words which were associated with so +many recollections of George, "<i>for me to live is Christ</i>."</p> + +<p>Simply, but earnestly, he drew pictures of life, in its many phases, and +contrasted them with the one object worth living for. Upon all else was +written, vanity of vanities—living for pleasure was but another name +for living for future woe: living for wealth was losing all; living for +honour was but heaping condemnation for the last day: while living for +Christ gave not only pleasure, and riches, and honour here, but +hereafter. Then he spoke of the preciousness of Jesus to those who +believe, as the sympathising Friend, and the loving Brother; of the +honour and joy of living for Him who had died to bring life and +immortality to light; and of that "peace which passeth understanding."</p> + +<p>That night there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over a +new-born soul. As George listened to the voice of the preacher, there +fell from his eyes as it had been scales, and he saw the Father running +to embrace the returning prodigal, and felt the kiss of His forgiving +love. The words which his earthly father had last spoken to him, were +those chosen by his heavenly Father to show him his new blissful +relationship as a son. And at what a gracious time! George was a +wanderer, an outcast, without father or friend, without object or aim in +life, and the doors of heaven were thrown open to him; the sympathy of +Divine love was poured into that aching heart, and the words of +rejoicing were uttered, "This, MY SON, was dead, and is alive again; was +lost, and is found."</p> + +<p>The weary one was at rest, the heart of stone palpitated with a living +breath, "The dead one heard the voice of the Son of God, and lived."</p> + +<p>Who can sympathise with George as he sat in his room that night, +overwhelmed with joy unspeakable? He was a new creature in a new world; +old things had passed away, behold all things had become new. He looked +up to heaven as his home, to God as his Father, to Jesus as his great +elder Brother; and he realised his life as hidden with Christ in God, +redeemed and reconciled, henceforth not his own, but given to Him who +had washed him, and made him clean in His own blood.</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p>Great joy is harder to bear than great sorrow. George had suddenly gone +from one to the other extreme, and at a time when he was suffering from +physical prostration, the result of such strong mental struggles.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, it is nine o'clock," Mrs. Murdoch called out, as she +knocked at his door next morning. No answer was returned.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, will you come down to breakfast, sir?" she repeated more +loudly, but with no greater success.</p> + +<p>Again she knocked, wondering that George should sleep so soundly, and be +so difficult to arouse, as he was accustomed to answer at the first +call.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Vincent, breakfast is waiting!"</p> + +<p>No answer coming, Mrs. Murdoch was anxious; she knew George had been +really ill for several days past, and had noticed his strange manner on +the previous evening. Without further hesitation, she opened the door, +and there on the floor lay George Weston, insensible, having apparently +fallen while in the act of dressing.</p> + +<p>Calling for assistance, she at once laid him upon the bed, applied all +the restoratives at hand, and without a moment's delay despatched a +messenger to the chemist in the next street, with instructions for him +to attend immediately.</p> + + + + +<a name="10"></a> +<h2>Chapter X.</h2> + +<h3>Making Discoveries.</h3> + +<p>"Will you grant me leave of absence for to-day?" Charles Hardy asked Mr. +Sanders, a few minutes after George had left the office, on the gloomy +and eventful morning when he disclosed the secret of his guilt.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what to say—what to do," answered Mr. Sanders, puffing +and blowing; "business will come to a stand-still—the shutters had +better go up at once. But if you want particularly to be off to-day, I +suppose I must manage to spare you."</p> + +<p>"I may want several days, sir; but if that should be the case, I will +return to the office to-morrow in time to see Mr. Compton immediately he +comes back"</p> + +<p>It was but the work of five minutes for Charles to write a short note, +change his office coat, and prepare to start The note was addressed to +Mr. Brunton, care of Mr. Sanders till called for, and ran as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>"MY DEAR SIR,</p> + +<p>"Do not be more uneasy than necessary about George. I think I have a +clue by which his address may be ascertained. If so, I will report +progress to you to-night; but I leave this note for you, in order to +allay the distress you will feel in learning he is not here. Rest +assured of my earnest desire to serve my dear friend, and to relieve him +if possible. My time and services you may command in this cause. In +haste,</p> + +<p align="right">"Yours very faithfully,<br /> +"CHARLES HARDY."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Hardy had a clue, it is true; but it was a very faint one. He had +noticed, upon the table of Mr. Compton's room, a "Bradshaw's Railway +Guide;" and as he had not seen one there previously, he imagined it must +have been brought in by George, with his carpet-bag and other things, +and there left. One page of the book was turned down; Hardy had eagerly +opened it, and found it referred to the departures from the Great +Western Station.</p> + +<p>"I'll go on at once to that station," he thought. "He told me he might +be leaving England; perhaps he has gone to Liverpool, Plymouth, or Cork, +or some shipping place that can be reached by this line. At all events, +I have no other chance but this."</p> + +<p>With all speed Charles drove off to Paddington. Diligently he conned +over the intricate mysteries of "Bradshaw" as he journeyed along, +endeavouring to ascertain when trains would be leaving for any of the +places to which he had imagined his friend might be going. It is hardly +necessary to say he could not find what he wanted; but his anxiety and +suspense were relieved by the search.</p> + +<p>Before alighting at the station, Hardy carefully glanced all around to +ascertain that George was not in sight; for it was not his intention to +speak to him or endeavour to turn him from his purpose, knowing that, in +his present excited state he would stand no chance whatever of +frustrating his friend's plans, but would rather be adopting the most +certain means of destroying his own. Hardy's present object was only to +try and find out to what part George would travel, and then communicate +with Mr. Brunton and get his advice how to proceed.</p> + +<p>Cautiously he walked along the platform, looking into every +waiting-room, and making inquiries of the porters it they had seen any +one answering to the description he gave of George. This course proving +futile, he went to the ticket-office, and consulted a time-table, to +find whether any train had recently left for any of the places which, he +felt convinced, were the most probable for George to choose. An hour or +two had elapsed since the last train left, and George had not had more +than twenty minutes' start ahead of him. He took down in his pocket-book +the time for the departure of the next train; and then choosing a +secluded spot in the office, where he would be out of observation, and +yet able to see all who came up for tickets, he waited patiently until +the slow, dawdling hand of the clock neared the hour.</p> + +<p>Hardy felt the chances were fifty to one that while he was waiting there +George might be at some other station, leaving London without a trace to +his whereabouts; he thought whether, after all, George might not have +purposely, instead of accidentally, left the "Bradshaw" with that +particular page turned down, in order that, should he be sought, a wrong +scent might be given; and even if he intended to travel by this line and +to one of these particular places, might he not choose nighttime as the +most desirable for his object? But Hardy had <i>purpose</i> in him; he would +not throw away the strongest clue he had, although that was faint, and +he resolved to stay there until midnight, it need be, rather than +abandon his design,</p> + +<p>His patience was not put to such a test as this. While he was standing, +with palpitating heart, behind that door in the booking office, George +was in the porters' room, not a hundred yards off, waiting with deeper +anxiety for the clock to point to the hour when the train should start. +Presently, the first bell rang. A number of people, with bags and +packages in hand, came crowding up to the ticket office, but George was +not there. Hardy could scarcely refrain from rushing out to look around. +What if he should get into a train without a ticket, or send a guard to +procure one for him? A hundred doubts and fears were pressing upon him, +and—the second bell rang. Two or three minutes more, and the train +would be off. At the moment he was consulting his pocket-book to see how +long a time must elapse before the next train would leave, he started +with joyful surprise to see George walk hurriedly up to the office and +obtain a ticket. As hurriedly he disappeared. "Now is my chance," +thought Hardy.</p> + +<p>"Where did that young man take his ticket for?" he asked the clerk, as +soon as he had elbowed his way past the few remaining persons who were +before the window.</p> + +<p>"Which one?" said he; "two or three young men have just taken tickets."</p> + +<p>"I mean the last ticket but one you issued?"</p> + +<p>"Plymouth."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" cried Hardy, to the astonishment of the clerk, who probably +would not have given the information, had he not thought the inquirer +wanted a ticket for the same place.</p> + +<p>Hardy was too cautious, even in the moment of his surprise, to let his +object be lost by over-haste; he knew it would not be wise to let +himself be seen, and though he longed to rush after George and say, +"Good-bye, cheer up, old chap!" he only allowed himself the painful +pleasure of looking through the window of a waiting-room, and seeing his +old friend and chum, sad and solitary, get into the carriage. Shriek +went the whistle, and away went the train. Whether it whizzed along so +rapidly, or the smoke and steam enveloped it, or from whatever cause it +was, Charles Hardy found his sight growing dimmer, until a mist shut out +the scene.</p> + +<p>From the station Hardy went home. He wanted to tell his parents some of +the occurrences of the day, and let them know of his expected absence. +He knew that he had difficulties to meet. George had always been kindly +received by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy; they both liked him, and were glad when +he came to spend an evening at their house. But latterly they had been +rather anxious about the growing intimacy between him and their son, and +often had a word of caution been given that Charles should be very +careful how far he allowed his friend to influence him.</p> + +<p>Now Hardy could only tell his parents that George had got into worse +trouble than ever—such trouble that he was obliged to leave his +situation, and had decamped, no one except himself knew where. Of course +Mr. and Mrs. Hardy would not put a good construction upon the affair. He +anticipated they would say, "Well, I always feared he would come to +this;" and would try to dissuade Charles from having anything more to do +with him. It was not to be expected they would look with such leniency +upon the matter as he would. Therefore, it was with no small difficulty +he proceeded, immediately upon reaching home, to tell them of what had +occurred. It was a short story, and soon told.</p> + +<p>"Now, father," said Hardy, before allowing him time to bring objections +to the part he had performed that day, "I have promised Mr. Brunton to +assist in finding George, and I have told Mr. Sanders I may be away some +days from the office. I know Mr. Compton will not object to this; if +that is all, I can have this leave of absence instead of the holiday he +promised me next mouth. George must be found; if I can help it, he shall +not leave England—at all events, not in this way. I know it will kill +Mrs. Weston, if he does."</p> + +<p>"Well, Charles, I know your kindheartedness, and I appreciate it; but I +cannot give my consent to the plan. Recollect, by associating yourself +with your former friend now, you do injury to yourself; he has got +himself into disgrace—he must bear the burden of it. What will Mr. +Compton think, when he hears that you—you who have always maintained +such strict integrity—have gone off after a dishonest, runaway clerk?"</p> + +<p>"I never wish to run counter to your opinions, father, if I can help it; +but I must do so now, George Weston is my friend—not <i>was</i> my friend, +as you said just now—and I would not act such a cowardly part as to +desert him. Don't be vexed at what I say; I know you advise for my good; +but you do not know how I feel in this matter. Suppose our positions +were changed, and I had done as George has done—there is no +impossibility in such a case—I am too weak against temptation to doubt +that had I been placed in the circumstances similar to his, I might have +done the same, Suppose I had, what would you have thought of me? Should +I have been your dishonest, runaway son, to whom all friendship must be +denied, and who might be left to bear any burden alone, because I had +brought it upon myself? No, father; you would be the first to seek and +comfort me, and the first to cry 'Shame!' upon any of my friends who +turned and kicked me the moment I had fallen."</p> + +<p>Mr. Hardy could not resist the force of his son's argument, nor could he +refrain from admiring the genuineness of his friendship for George, and +the manly determination he had formed to assist him.</p> + +<p>"Well, Charles," he said, "I do not blame you for taking this course. I +hope it may be serviceable to your friend, and without any injury to +yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do not fear, father. And now I must pack up a few necessaries in my +bag, and be off to Mr. Brunton's. If I do not return home to-morrow, do +not be uneasy about me, and I will write to you every day to say how +things are going on."</p> + +<p>When Hardy arrived at the house of Mr. Brunton, he found him, as he +anticipated, in a high state of nervous anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I am so thankful you have arrived, Mr. Hardy," he said, shaking him +warmly by the hand: "and I need not tell you Mrs. Weston has been +waiting with great impatience to see you."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Weston! is she here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; not many minutes after you had left the office I called there, and +received the sad news about—about George. I at once telegraphed to Mrs. +Weston to come up to town, and it needed no urging to hasten her, for +she had only a short time before received a letter from him, which had +filled her with alarm. But let us go to her at once," said Mr. Brunton, +leading the way to the drawing-room; "she entreated I would bring you to +her the moment you arrived."</p> + +<p>As Hardy entered, Mrs. Weston sprang to meet him.</p> + +<p>"Have you found George?—where is he?" she asked, and the look of +struggling hope and despair was touching to witness.</p> + +<p>"I have not found him, Mrs. Weston, but I know the place of his present +destination. He has gone to Plymouth;" and then Hardy briefly explained +the incidents of the morning.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you how thankful I am to you, Mr. Hardy," said Mrs. +Weston, as he concluded. "May God bless you for your kindness to my pool +George!"</p> + +<p>"George would have done more for me, Mrs. Weston," Hardy replied; "but, +at present, little or nothing has been done. Have you any plans, and can +I help you in them?"</p> + +<p>"We must go on as soon as possible to Plymouth, and find out where he +is. He may perhaps be on the eve of starting away by some of the vessels +in the port. Not a minute should be lost."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir, I will go down to Plymouth by the mail train which leaves in +about a couple of hours, if you will let me; and I promise you that I +will do my best to find him," said Hardy.</p> + +<p>This unexpected proposition removed an infinite burden from Mr. +Brunton's mind. He felt that it was his duty to see Mr. Compton at once, +and he had other engagements which made it impossible for him to leave +that night. He did not like Mrs. Weston travelling alone, in her present +anxious and desponding state, and had been at his wit's end all day to +know how to manage.</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Hardy, can you go? Have you consulted your friends at home? +Can you manage to get leave of absence from the office?—remember they +will be short of hands there," asked Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>"I have made all arrangements at home, sir and my only difficulty is +about Mr. Compton. But if you will please see him as soon as he returns, +and explain why I have left, I am sure he will not be displeased. He was +so fond of George, I know he would have said 'Go, by all means,' had he +been at home."</p> + +<p>"I will undertake to set the matter right with him about you," said Mr. +Brunton; "but I doubt whether he will ever allow me to mention poor +George's name. Oh! Hardy, this is a sad, sad business!"</p> + +<p>"It is, sir; but it is sadder for George than for his friends," replied +Hardy. "I cannot bear to think of the trouble he is passing through at +this moment. It has cost him much to take the step he has taken, and +everything must be done to get him back from his voluntary banishment"</p> + +<p>"And everything shall be done that can," said Mr. Brunton. "God grant he +is still in England! I feel sure the sight of his mother and his friends +sorrowing for him, instead of turning against him as he supposes, will +alter his determination."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Hardy, may I place myself under your protection until my brother +joins us at Plymouth?" said Mrs. Weston, abruptly. "I will go down by +the mail train to-night; I cannot rest until he is found."</p> + +<p>Arrangements were speedily made, and that night the train bore off Mrs. +Western and Charles Hardy to Plymouth.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Mr. Brunton called at Falcon-court. Mr. Compton +had not yet arrived, but was expected hourly. Not wishing to lose time, +which that morning was particularly precious to him, he asked for some +writing materials, and seating himself in Mr. Compton's room, intended +to occupy himself until his arrival. After he had been there about +half-an-hour, his attention was arrested by hearing the door of the +clerk's office open, and an inquiry made.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. George Weston here?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Weston has left the office," answered Williams, who came forward to +answer the inquiry. "Left yesterday morning."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Where has he gone to? why did he leave?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think anyone knows where he has gone to," answered Williams; +"and I am not disposed to say why he left."</p> + +<p>Williams did not know why he had left, nor were the circumstances of the +case known to any of the clerks; but many surmises had been made which +were unfavourable to him, and it was with the exultant pleasure a mean +spirit feels in a mean triumph, that Williams had at last an opportunity +of speaking lightly of the once good name of George Weston, to whom he +had ever cherished feelings of animosity.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Compton in, or the manager?" asked the visitor. "I am +exceedingly anxious to know what has become of my friend."</p> + +<p>"Between ourselves," said Williams, "the less you say about your friend +the better. It strikes me—mind, I merely give you this confidentially +as my impression—that, when Weston turns up again, his friends will not +be over-anxious to renew their acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? I do not understand you."</p> + +<p>"What I mean is this. When a clerk is dismissed from an office during +the absence of the principal, leaves suddenly and has to hide +himself—more particularly when accounts at the banker's do not quite +balance—one cannot help thinking there is a screw loose somewhere."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton overheard all this; he who had never before heard an +unfavourable sentence spoken against his nephew. He had not fully +realised until that moment the painful position in which George's crime +had placed him, nor the depth of his nephew's fall in position and +character. He longed to have been able to stand up in vindication of +George against the terrible insinuations of Williams; he would have been +intensely thankful if he could have accosted the stranger, and said, +"That man is guilty of falsehood who dares to speak against the good +name of my nephew." But there he stood, with blood boiling and lips +quivering, unable to contradict one sentence that had been uttered.</p> + +<p>"If Weston <i>does</i> turn up," continued Williams, "will you leave any +message or letter, or your name, and it shall be forwarded?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Ashton," said the stranger; "but it is unnecessary to say +that I called. It does not do to be mixed up with matters like these. I +half feared something of the sort was brewing, but I had no idea tilings +would have taken so sudden a turn."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton could restrain his impatience no longer.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ashton," he said, coming suddenly upon the speakers, "will you +favour me by stepping inside a minute or two? I shall be glad to speak +to you."</p> + +<p>Ashton was taken by surprise at seeing Mr. Brunton where he least +expected to see him.</p> + +<p>"I have been placed in the uncomfortable position of a listener to your +conversation in the next room," said Mr. Brunton, closing the door; "and +I cannot allow those remarks made by the clerk with whom you were +talking to pass unqualified."</p> + +<p>"They need little explanation, sir," said Ashton. "George Weston has +been on the verge of a catastrophe for some months, and I believe I can +fill in the outline of information which you heard given me."</p> + +<p>"I am in ignorance of the causes which have led to my nephew's +disgrace," answered Mr. Brunton; "nor am I desirous to hear them from +any lips but his. You were one of his most intimate friends, I believe, +Mr. Ashton?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I think I may say his most intimate friend."</p> + +<p>"And you knew he was on the 'verge of a catastrophe.' I have no doubt +you acted the part of a friend, and sought to turn his steps from the +fatal brink?"</p> + +<p>"Well, as to that, he was fully competent to manage his own affairs +without my interference. I did tell him he would come to grief, if he +did not give up playing."</p> + +<p>"And did you add to that advice that he should quit those associates +who had assisted to bring him to such a pass?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not; why should I meddle with him in his companionships? You +speak, Mr. Brunton, as if I were your nephew's keeper. If George Weston +liked to live beyond his means, he was at liberty to do it for me. I am +sorry he made such a smash at last, but it is all that could be +expected. If ever you see George again, sir, you will oblige me by +conveying one message. I did not think when he came to me, two nights +ago, to try and borrow a hundred pounds, that he intended to mix me up +in any disgraceful business like that of this morning. Had I known it, +instead of fretting myself about his welfare, he should have—"</p> + +<p>"Made the discovery," interrupted Mr. Brunton, "that he never had a +friend in you. My idea of a friend is one who seeks the well-being of +another; speaks to him as a second conscience in temptation; loves with +a strength of attachment which cannot be broken; and, though sorrowing +over error, can still hope and pray for and seek to restore the erring. +Mr. Ashton, I do not wish to say more upon this matter; it is painful +for me to think how my nephew has been led downward, step after step, by +those whom he thought friends, and how sinfully he has yielded. When +you think of him, recollect him as the boy you knew at school, and try +to trace his course down to this day. You know his history, his +companionships, his whole life. Think whether <i>you</i> have influenced it, +and how; and if your conscience should say, 'I have not been his +friend,' may you be led by the remembrance to consider that no man +liveth to himself: and that for those talents and attractions with which +you are endowed, you will have hereafter to give account, together with +the good or evil which has resulted from them."</p> + +<p>To Ashton's relief the door opened, and Mr. Compton entered. Hastily +taking up his hat, he bade adieu to Mr. Brunton, glad of this +opportunity to beat a retreat.</p> + +<p>"Confound those Methodists!" he uttered to himself, as he walked up +Fleet-street; "speak to them, they talk sermons; strike them, and they +defend themselves with sermons; cut them to the quick, and I believe +they would bleed sermons. But why should he pounce upon me? What have I +done? A pretty life George would have led if it hadn't been for me, and +this is all the thanks I get. I wish to goodness he had not made such a +fool of himself; I shall have to answer all inquiries about him, and it +is no honour to be linked in such associations."</p> + +<p>The meeting between Mr. Compton and Mr. Brunton was one of mingled +feelings of pain and mortification. One had lost a valuable clerk, for +whom he cherished more than ordinary feelings of regard, and upon whom +he had hoped some day the whole management of the business would +devolve; the other had lost almost all that was dear to him on earth, +one whom he had watched, and loved, and worked for, and to whose bright +future he had looked forward with increasing pleasure, until it had +become a dream of life. Both were aggrieved, both were injured; but both +felt, in their degree, such strong feelings in favour of George, despite +his disgrace and crime, that they could look with more sorrow than anger +on the offender, and deal more in kindness than in wrath.</p> + +<p>Mr. Compton could not but agree with Mr. Brunton that he must be +discovered, if possible; and although he could never receive him under +any circumstances into his office again, nor could ever have for him the +feelings he once entertained, still he felt free to adhere to his first +determination not to prosecute or take any steps in the case, nor allow +it to have more publicity than could be helped.</p> + +<p>"He is still young," said he; "let him try to redeem the past. But it +is right he should feel the consequences of his actions, and no doubt he +will, as he has to encounter the difficulties which will meet him in +seeking to retrieve the position he has lost. You know me too well, +Brunton, to imagine that I do not estimate aright the extent of his +guilt; and you will give me credit for possessing a desire to do as I +would be done by in this case. I believe many a young man has been +ruined through time and eternity, by having been dealt with too +harshly—though in a legal sense quite justly; at the same time it has +been the only course to check a growing habit of crime in others. I know +well that in some instances it would be a duty to prosecute, if only as +a protection from suspicion of upright persons. But there are +exceptional cases, and I consider this to be one of them, although +perhaps many of our leading citizens might think me culpable in my +clemency; but I think I know your nephew sufficiently well to be +warranted in the belief that he feels his criminality, and will take a +lasting warning from this circumstance. And now, what do you intend to +do, since you know my determination?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton explained the plans he had formed, and the valuable +assistance which Hardy had rendered him. He was pleased to hear from his +injured friend the heartily expressed wish that the end in view might be +accomplished. Mr. Brunton had surmounted one great difficulty, and he +could not feel sufficiently thankful at the issue. Although he had known +Mr. Compton for many years, and had seen innumerable evidences of his +benevolence and good nature, he knew, too, that he was the very +personification of honesty and uprightness; and he dreaded lest, +incensed against George for his ingratitude, and fearing the influence +of his conduct might spread in the office, he would take measures +against him which, although perfectly just, would, by their severity, +prove deeply injurious in such a case, and reduce George, who was +naturally sensitive of shame, to a position from which he might never be +restored.</p> + +<p>At the very earliest opportunity Mr. Brunton went down to Plymouth. +Business of the greatest importance, which he could not set aside, had +detained him in London until Friday, and his uneasiness had been +increased during that time by two notes he had received—one from Mrs. +Weston, and the other from Hardy—telling him of the unsuccessful issue +of their search. With an anxious heart he alighted at the station at +Plymouth, and walked to the hotel, where his sister and Hardy were +staying. The look of despair he read in Mrs. Weston's countenance, as +they met, told him that no favourable result had been obtained.</p> + +<p>"We have been everywhere, and tried every possible plan to find poor +George," she said, when Mr. Brunton sat down beside her and Hardy to +hear the recital of their efforts. "I should have broken down long ago, +had it not been for our dear friend here, who has been night and day at +work, plotting schemes and working them out, and buoying me up with +hopes in their result. But I feel sure George cannot be in Plymouth, and +our search is vain."</p> + +<p>"So Mrs. Weston has said all along," said Hardy; "but I cannot agree +with her; at all events, I will not believe it until we find out where +he has gone. He has not taken a passage in any of the vessels, as far as +we can ascertain; he is not in any of the inns in the town, I think, for +we have made the most searching inquiries at all of them; but in this +large place it is difficult to find any one without some positive clue."</p> + +<p>"Have you been able to find out whether he really arrived here?" asked +Mr. Brunton.</p> + +<p>"I think I have. One of the porters rather singularly recollected a +person, answering to the description, arriving by the train in which +George left London. It seems he was hastening away from the station +without giving up his ticket No doubt he was nervous and absent in mind; +and when the porter called to him, he started and seemed as if he were +alarmed: but in a minute he produced his ticket and went out The porter +looked suspiciously, I suppose, at the ticket, and evidently so at +George, for he was able to give a full description of him."</p> + +<p>"That is so far satisfactory," said Mr. Brunton; "but have you made any +more discoveries to render you tolerably sure he is still in Plymouth."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have been to every shop where they fit out passengers for a sea +voyage, and have found out one where he purchased some articles of +clothing. But the clearest trace I have of him is from the shipping +agents. He was certainly looking over vessels on the morning after his +arrival here, for one or two captains have described him to me. I have +been a great many times down among the shipping, but have not made more +discoveries, and I cannot get any information from the shipping offices; +but in this you will probably meet with more success, sir, than I have, +for a young man is not of sufficient importance to command attention +from business men."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton was fully conscious of the difficulties which were in the +way of finding George, even supposing he was still in Plymouth: but he +was not without hope. He could not find words enough to express his +strong approbation of all that Hardy had done, and he felt sure that he +could have no better assistant in the undertaking than he. A series of +plans were soon formed: Hardy was to keep watch upon those vessels which +he thought it probable George might choose, and offer rewards to sailors +and others for information. Mr. Brunton was to try and discover the +names and descriptions of passengers booked at the shipping offices; and +Mrs. Weston was to keep a general lookout on outfitters' warehouses, and +other places where it might be probable George would visit.</p> + +<p>But every plan failed. Saturday night came, and, worn out with fatigue, +the anxious trio sat together to discuss the incidents of the day, and +propose fresh arrangements for the morrow. Sunday was not a day of rest +to them; from early morning they were all engaged in different +directions in prosecuting their search, and not until the curtain of +night was spread over the town, and the hum of traffic and din of bustle +had ceased, did they return to the hotel.</p> + +<p>After supper, Mr. Brunton took out his pocket Bible, and read aloud some +favourite passages. They seemed to speak with a voice of hope and +comfort, and inspired fresh faith in the unerring providence of Him who +doeth all things well.</p> + +<p>Very earnest were the prayers offered by that little party, as they +knelt together and commended the wanderer, wherever he might be, to the +care and guidance of the good providence of God. They felt how useless +were all plans and purposes unless directed by a higher source than +their own; and while they prayed for success upon the efforts put forth, +if in accordance with His will, they asked for strength and resignation +to bear disappointment Nor were their prayers merely that he whom they +were seeking might be found, but that he might find pardon and +acceptance with God, and that the evil which they lamented might, in the +infinitely wise purposes of Providence, be controlled for good.</p> + +<p>With fresh zeal and renewed hope the three set forth on the following +morning to prosecute their several plans. Hardy had learned that one or +two vessels would sail that day, and he was full of expectation that he +might meet with some tidings.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton felt rather unwell that morning—the press of business which +had detained him in London, the excitement of the journey, and the +fatigue of the previous days, had told upon his health. As he was +passing through a quiet part of the town, he called in at an +apothecary's to get a draught, which he hoped might ward off any serious +attack of sickness. While the draught was being prepared, Mr. Brunton, +who was intent upon his object and never left a stone unturned, +interrogated the apothecary, a gentlemanly and agreeable man, upon the +neighbourhood, the number of visitors in that locality, and other +subjects, ending by saying he was trying to discover the residence of a +relative, but without any knowledge of his address.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the conversation, a servant-girl, without bonnet or +shawl, came hurriedly into the shop, out of breath with running.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, if you please, sir, missus says, will you come at once to see +the young gentleman as stays at our house?—he's taken bad."</p> + +<p>"Who is your mistress, my girl?" asked the chemist.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, it's Mrs. Murdoch, of —— Street; and the young gentleman is +a lodger from London, and he's going away to-morrow to the Indies or +somewheres; but do come, sir, please—missus'll be frightened to death, +all by herself, and him so dreadful bad."</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton had been an anxious listener. Was it possible that the young +gentleman from London could be George?</p> + +<p>"How long has your lodger been with you?" he asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"A week come Wednesday—leastways, come Tuesday night,"—was the +accurate answer.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton, with eyes flashing with excitement, turned to the medical +man. "Will you allow me to accompany you on this visit?" he asked; "I +have reason to believe that your patient may be the relative for whom I +am searching."</p> + +<p>"Then come, by all means," answered the doctor; and, preceded by the +girl, who was all impatience to get home, and kept up a pace which made +Mr. Brunton puff lustily, they reached the house of Mrs. Murdoch.</p> + + + + +<a name="11"></a> +<h2>Chapter XI.</h2> + +<h3>The Sick Chamber.</h3> + +<p>The sun had gone down, and the twilight was fast losing itself in night. +The pale moon was struggling to look out upon the world through the +dark, heavy clouds which had collected around, as if expressly to +prevent this purpose. The hum of traffic in the street had ceased, and +the only sounds that came in at the open window were strains of music, +and the confused clamour of voices from a neighbouring tavern. The room +was a picture of neatness. The bed was draped in snowy furniture, and +the coverlid bore evidence of good taste and the ingenuity of +industrious hands. The mantlepiece was adorned with a few photographs +and a vase of fresh-gathered flowers.</p> + +<p>Upon a table in the corner of the room stood a lamp, with a green shade +over it to screen the light from the bed. Beside it were bottles, +phials, and other appliances of a sick chamber.</p> + +<p>A group stood round the bed, watching, with thrilling anxiety, the face +of the doctor as he held the inanimate hand of George Weston.</p> + +<p>You might have heard the ticking of his watch as he stood there and +gazed in the face of the patient, while Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton and +Charles Hardy waited motionless, almost breathless, to hear his verdict.</p> + +<p>"It is a more serious case than I imagined at first," said the doctor; +"I do not wish unnecessarily to alarm you, but it is my duty to say that +the condition of the patient is one of great danger, but I trust not +past recovery."</p> + +<p>"What is the nature of the illness—tell me candidly?" asked Mr. +Brunton, when he could command speech.</p> + +<p>"Brain fever," was the laconic answer.</p> + +<p>For a long time George Weston lay in that awful state which is neither +death nor life—when the spirit seems to be hovering round the body, +uncertain whether to wing its flight for ever from the tenement of +earth, or return to sojourn still longer in its old familiar +dwelling-house. Sometimes he would rave in the frenzy of madness, and +then sink in exhaustion with scarcely the power to draw a breath.</p> + +<p>Never was a sick-bed tended with greater care than his. Night after +night Mrs. Weston sat beside him, bathing the fevered head and cooling +the parched lips. Nor would she leave that post for a moment, until Mr. +Brunton was obliged to insist upon her taking rest.</p> + +<p>"Reserve your strength," he said; "we know not what is before us; it may +be—but we have nothing to do with the future," he added, interrupting +himself; "that must be left in His hands."</p> + +<p>Hardy was not able to remain in Plymouth longer than Wednesday. Mr. +Compton had written to him to say that, being short of hands, he was +very much pressed in business, and now that the main object of his +journey had been attained—for Mr. Brunton communicated with him almost +immediately—he should be glad if he would return as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>As he stood beside the bed of George Weston on the morning of his +departure, and gazed into those pale and haggard features, which had +always beamed with a friendly smile for him, but which he might never +see again, he could not restrain the impulse of clasping his hand, and +uttering solemnly the prayerful wish, "God preserve and bless you, +George!"</p> + +<p>The words were not heard by George—his ears were closed in dull +insensibility—but they were caught by Mr. Brunton and Mrs. Weston, who +that moment entered the room, and Hardy was startled to hear the earnest +response to his prayer in their united "Amen!"</p> + +<p>"And that prayer shall ever be offered for you, Charles," said Mrs. +Weston; "I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid. I +shudder to think of what would have happened, had it not been for your +kind, noble, manly friendship. Poor George would have suffered in this +lonely place, away from all who loved him, and without proper care, +perhaps have died—died afoot."</p> + +<p>"You do not know how thankful I feel, Mrs. Weston, that our efforts have +not been in vain. Pray write to me every day, to say how he is going +on—if it is only just one line; and should there be any change for +the—for the better, do let me know at once, that I may come down again, +if only for a day, just to congratulate him."</p> + +<p>"And if there is another change—a change for the worse?" asked Mrs. +Weston, tearfully.</p> + +<p>"Write, telegraph—pray let me know somehow," answered Hardy. "I could +not bear to part with him without telling and showing him there was one +of his old friends who loved him to the last. Good-bye, dear Mrs. +Weston; do not over-tax your strength, and keep up a good heart; depend +upon it, there are yet happy days for you and for George."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston sadly missed her young friend after his departure. His +hopeful spirits had helped to buoy up her expectations and assuage the +sorrows of the present. It seemed as if the sun had hidden itself and +the stars had refused their light during those long days when the mother +sat watching at the bedside of her son. Mr. Brunton tried in every way +to relieve her, but his own heart was heavy, and the two felt more at +home in talking dolefully over the bad symptoms of the patient than in +looking forward to the future.</p> + +<p>But a day came when the strength of the fever abated, and reason +returned to her long vacant throne.</p> + +<p>It was toward evening: Mrs. Weston was sitting beside the bed, busily +stitching away at her work, and Mr. Brunton was resting his head upon +his hands as he turned over the pages of a book which he was trying to +deceive himself into the belief he was reading, when a deep sigh caused +them both to suspend their occupation.</p> + +<p>George raised himself up in bed, and gazed round the room. The +furniture screened the two watchers, and he fancied himself alone. He +raised a pillow at his back, and reclining upon it in the placid calm of +exhaustion, with his face turned toward the open window, watched the +clouds as they crossed the blue expanse, and indulged in a half +conscious reverie. Where had he been? Where was he? Had he passed the +dark valley of the shadow of death, and were there angel forms in those +snow-white clouds beckoning him away? What was that confused sound which +rang in his ears? Was it the murmuring of the dark stream as it washed +upon the untrodden shore?</p> + +<p>No: there was the little room where he had taken his lodgings; there was +the green paper on the wall with the large grape clusters; there was the +sound of human voices in the street And the consciousness that he was +alive, restored, flashed upon him with something of the bewildering +astonishment and joy which Lazarus must have felt when he heard the +words, "Come forth."</p> + +<p>Too weak to rise, he was not too weak to pray. Clasping his hands +together, and gazing up into the clear blue sky, from whence all clouds +were now dispersing, he poured out his overflowing heart in +thanksgiving.</p> + +<p>He spoke with God. The tremulous voice gained strength, the power of +faith and hope grew intensified, and he prayed with that love and +fervour which the grateful child of a heavenly Parent can only feel.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston and Mr. Brunton were paralyzed with astonishment; +instinctively they shrank from disturbing that solemn time by coming +forward to speak with George and letting him recognise them; but with a +united impulse, both quietly and solemnly knelt down and joined in the +song of thanksgiving.</p> + +<p>Theirs was joy unspeakable; tears poured down both faces, and hushed +sobs of rejoicing burst from their hearts. All their prayers and earnest +longings had been answered; all their sorrow was turned into joy; and +that Friend of friends, whose delights are with the children of men, had +ordered, according to the tender mercy of His loving heart, all the evil +into overwhelming good.</p> + +<p>Presently the voice ceased; and, exhausted with the effort, George lay +down in calm and blissful tranquillity to sleep.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Weston rose from her knees, her dress touched a book on the +table, which fell to the ground. George was roused by the sound, and, +trying to draw aside the curtain, said,—</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Mrs. Murdoch?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston, although dreading the consequences of excitement, could +restrain no longer the yearning of her motherly heart to embrace her +son.</p> + +<p>"No, George, my dearest boy, it is your mother."</p> + +<p>"Mother! mother!" cried George, with the old former-day voice of love +and joy, passionately kissing the face of beaming happiness bent over +him, "Thank God you are here!"</p> + +<p>From that day George began rapidly to improve. The excitement produced +by the discovery that he had been sought and found, instead of doing him +injury, relieved his already-oppressed mind from a weight of care. Every +day brought fresh strength, and as he sat up in bed, carefully propped +up by pillows, with his uncle on one hand and his mother on the other, +he told them all the sorrowful and joyful details of his strange +experiences until the eventful morning when his strength gave way.</p> + +<p>"This is beginning life afresh, in every sense," he said; "here am I, a +poor mortal, almost helpless, just strong enough to know how weak I am; +and before me—if my life is spared—lies an untrodden path. But I begin +my restored life, through God's infinite mercy, with a new inner life; +and He who has given me that, will, I know, freely give me all things +that shall be for my good."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Weston never knew the fulness of joy before those days. Her only +son, in whom all her brightest earthly hopes were centred, had ever been +a source of deep anxiety to her. Her never-ceasing prayer had been that +he might be what he now was—a child of her Father; and in the +realization of her heart's desire she found such joy unspeakable, that +all the cares and troubles of long, weary years seemed as though they +had not been.</p> + +<p>George was soon sufficiently restored to be able to leave his bed and +sit up for a few hours on the sofa. The day for this trial of strength +having been definitely fixed by the doctor, Mrs. Weston wrote at once to +Hardy, inviting him, if he could manage to get away, to come down and +celebrate the event.</p> + +<p>The meeting between the two friends was as joyful as their parting had +been sorrowful.</p> + +<p>"George, my dear old boy," said Hardy, as he shook him by the hand, "it +does my eyesight good to see you again."</p> + +<p>"And it does my heart good to see you, old fellow," replied George, as +he returned the pressure. "You don't know how I have longed for your +coming, that I might tell you how deeply grateful I am to you for all +your brotherly love—"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, George," said Hardy, taking up his hat and buttoning his +coat; "I won't stay another minute unless you give over talking such +stuff What I've done! Why, if my pup, Gip, were to run away, I should do +for him what I have done for you—no more, no less. So let us drop the +subject, that's a good fellow, and then I'll sit down and chat with +you."</p> + +<p>Never was there a pleasanter chat by any little party than by that which +assembled in Mrs. Murdoch's best parlour that evening. All hearts were +full of thankfulness, and though there were some painful subjects +discussed, yet the joyful ones far more than counterbalanced them.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brunton found out, in the course of the evening, that he had +something very important to do, and probably Mrs. Weston discovered her +assistance was needed as well, for the friends found themselves, after a +while, alone, which was what they both wanted.</p> + +<p>"You have heard, Hardy, of all the strange things that have happened to +me?" George began, hesitatingly. "I should like to be able to tell you +all about them; but, somehow, I don't know how to put such matters into +words."</p> + +<p>"You mean, George, that one great, solemn, joyful event which has made +your life now something worth living for," said Hardy, relieving him of +a difficulty. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to know it. The past two +years have been funny ones to both of us. Religion has been ground on +which we have not been able to tread together, as you know: but, thank +goodness, that has all gone by. Now, I must tell you my mind, George," +he continued, in that frank, manly way which was so natural to him; "I +never gave you credit for sincerity when you took up with those strange +notions which were so dangerous to you. I believed then that they were +convenient principles, which might be stretched and made to agree with +the dictates of your inclination. I do not say you did not believe what +you professed, but I always thought that you forced yourself into that +belief by self-deception. Now, wait, don't interrupt me. I know what you +are going to say; but whatever harm you did to others—God only knows +that—I do not think your change in sentiment did any harm to me! For +this reason—I saw you were not straightforward with your own heart, and +I felt sure you slighted that pure and holy religion in which we had +been instructed from childhood, not because in your heart of hearts you +disbelieved it, but because it condemned that course of conduct which +you were pursuing. Now, was it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Hardy, you are right. I can trace out now the processes of thought +through which I passed, to lead me to think and act as I did; and I +never knew before what a wretchedly poor thing a morally endowed, +intelligent human being is in his own strength. I did not know how weak +I was. I did feel sometimes oppressed with the idea that I was willingly +blindfolding myself—but, somehow, an argument was always at hand to +weigh down this feeling. But tell me why you think my endeavours to make +you believe as I did never did you injury? God grant they may not to +others."</p> + +<p>"Why, when I observed you, as I tell you I did, it was impossible for me +not to be on my guard. Nay, more, this question tormented me daily, 'You +believe George disregards religion, because it condemns him; if you +regard that religion, but do not practise it, does it not condemn you?' +Now this was a home-thrust, George, which I could not parry off. I tried +to determine not to be such a cowardly, mean-spirited creature as to try +and cheat God by pretending to believe Him, and yet fight under false +colours against Him; and so I gave up many of my old habits, and tried +to start afresh. And now, George, you don't know how thankful I am that +you are different to what you were. We have studied many things +together, joined in many plans and purposes; and now I hope we shall be +able to study the highest and best thing in earth or heaven—what God's +will is, and how to do it."</p> + +<hr width="25%" size="1" /> + +<p>That desire became the watchword of their lives.</p> +<hr width="100%" /> +<pre> + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, LIFE IN LONDON *** + +This file should be named 8lfln10h.htm or 8lfln10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8lfln11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8lfln10ah.htm + + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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