CHAPTER IX

CAUGHT!

"GOOD-NIGHT, my boy."

"Good-night, Mr. Jonathan," said Robin as he turned the corner by the lodge to go towards his home the following evening.

The old man shaded his eyes with his hand as he watched the retreating figure for some distance, until a bend in the lane hid him from view, then said aloud as he entered his house, "There is something wrong with the lad, and I cannot come at it; he is no more like the same boy he was three months ago than a fresh rose is like the withered one I have just thrown away. What can it be? Bad companions, perhaps; but I never see him about with any of the town lads. I wonder if his mother notices the difference."

Jonathan was about to seat himself in his big arm-chair for a good rest, when suddenly he recollected there was something he had forgotten to see to in one of the glass-houses; so, taking his knotted stick from behind the door, he once more began to trudge slowly up the avenue. Did his eyes deceive him? It was surely Robin that he saw leaping over the fence and running across the field as if for his life. Why did he come that way? Was he going to the house? Yes; he opened the white gate leading to the back premises, and presently disappeared.

Jonathan's first impulse was to meet him in the field on his return, and question him as to his errand; but the old man knew his stiff legs would not reach thus far in time, the boy was flying at such a rate. He therefore hid himself behind a large tree, and from his place of concealment saw Robin a few minutes after return through the gate, and by the same short cut regain the high road. But he had a basket on his arm! Where was he taking it to? Why did he come back to fetch it? Here was an explanation of the boy's restless impatient manner when detained at the lodge gate for a few moments before wishing him good-night.

"There is something underhand going on," muttered old Jonathan sadly. "I was sure of it. The poor lad could not look me in the face to-day when I asked him a question; he got scarlet when I mentioned cook's name. What can it be? He has got into a thorny path, and I must see him out of it, even though my own hands get torn. I will be his friend, whatever it costs; and I pray God we may see the right side of this business before long."

While his dear old teacher and friend was thus sadly musing over what he had just seen, Robin, wholly unconscious of detection, was doing his utmost to make up for the time so unwillingly lost while talking to Jonathan at the lodge. But he had not got more than half-way when he heard the sonorous tones of a church clock warning him that the hour had come when he had promised his mother he would try to be at home. She had said she wanted him particularly.

There was therefore no time to go round by Andover Street, though cook had urged the necessity of his doing so. He must carry the basket home with him, and take it there in the morning. Thus resolved, he sped swiftly up the street leading to his own home; and, lest his mother should question him about the basket if she saw it, he ran quickly through to the court, and deposited it in a corner hidden by a stack of sticks, before entering the room where she and Corrie were sitting.

Mrs. Campbell greeted her son with a bright smile, saying, "Ah! Robin, you are a good boy. I hoped you would not keep me waiting long, for I have to go and see a lady to-night who owes me some money for washing. Take Corrie out for a bit to the green fields. It has been so hot here all day for her. I am obliged to keep up the fire for the ironing."

"All right, mother," was Robin's quiet response. And she, hastily putting on her bonnet and shawl, had not time to observe how miserable he looked.

After her departure, Robin carefully considered whether he could not first take Corrie to Andover Street and leave the basket. But he knew that the house his mother was bound for was in that immediate neighbourhood. What if she met and questioned him? He dared not risk it.

Besides, she had often said she did not wish Corrie to be taken into close dirty streets; and there had been a great deal of fever in the town of late. The child, too, would be sure to tell mother about the basket if she saw it. No; he must leave it until to-morrow morning; but meantime, for greater security, he would remove it from the backyard and hide it away under his bed. So Robin kept Corrie waiting in her carriage outside the door while he did this.

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave When first we practise to deceive!"

He went sadly and quietly along towards the fields, which lay some distance beyond the town. At last they turned off the high road to a favourite spot beside a running brook, where were grassy hollows and tall shady trees.

Robin was so busily occupied gathering wild flowers for Corrie, and so preoccupied with his own thoughts, that he did not notice the gardener of Oaklands was trudging, quite close to them, the other side of the hedge, along the white dusty road. But old Jonathan's sharp eyes had spied out the brother and sister, though he passed by without any sign of recognition, muttering, "There is no time to be lost."

Mrs. Campbell was disappointed In not finding the lady at home, and therefore returned sooner than she expected. Great was her surprise after reaching home to hear old Jonathan's voice at the door.

"Come in, Mr. Jonathan," she answered cheerily, on catching sight of the wrinkled face. "It is many a long day since I have seen you down as far as this. I hope nothing is wrong at the house, or that Robin is not wanted, for he is gone out with Corrie; but I expect them in soon."

The old man seated himself, and paused for a moment to wipe his forehead with his red handkerchief and regain his breath, for he had walked quicker than was his wont. Then he said, "Did Robin not tell you about the lost sovereign?"

"No," replied the widow, turning pale at the thought of her son being suspected of a theft. "Indeed, he has had no time, for I went out directly he got back this evening. Pray tell me about it."

The gardener accordingly proceeded to recount the story of the missing money as he had heard it in the kitchen that morning.

"You don't think Robin touched it, do you?" said his listener, aghast and trembling.

"No," replied her true-hearted friend, "I don't, for I believe he is honest to the backbone; but, for all that, there is something wrong with the boy, Mrs. Campbell; and I've failed as yet to find it out. I can only see he is miserable and unhappy; and I've a notion that cook has beguiled him into underhand ways. I have long suspected this, but could prove nothing until this evening, when I watched him return by a short cut over the fields to fetch a basket from the back premises."

"He brought no basket here, Mr. Jonathan. Of course I should have seen it if he had," added the poor woman hotly, for she felt her temper rising.

"Then he did not come straight home," said the gardener.

"Oh yes, he did; he was in much earlier than usual, and there was nothing in his hand."

The conversation continued until it was suddenly interrupted by Corrie's voice in merry chatter as Robin brought her in. Jonathan was the last person he expected to see, and he looked both ashamed and foolish on perceiving him seated by the fire. The boy's guilty fears, bred of an accusing conscience, nearly made him drop his sister after lifting her from the carriage. Mrs. Campbell saw the look, and, taking Corrie from his arms, she carried her into the adjoining room to put her to bed.

"Robin," said Jonathan sternly when they were left alone, "tell me the truth at once: what did you do with that basket I saw you fetch from the house?"

"The basket?" stammered the boy, hoping to evade the question by gaining time to frame a suitable answer; but, meeting the piercing look of those keen grey eyes, his own fell before it. The whole truth must come out now, and Robin burst into tears. "Oh, Mr. Jonathan!" he sobbed. "I am so glad you know about it! I have been so very very miserable? There it is," he added in a husky tone of voice—"there it is, hidden away under my bed, because I could not take it to Andover Street to-night for cook. But oh, Mr. Jonathan, I know no more than you do what is inside it!"

Then followed a full and free confession of the sin that like a millstone had been weighing him down for so many weeks. Mrs. Campbell entered the room unobserved by her son, so great was his agitation.

She listened in silence for some minutes, then sat down upon a chair, to cover her face with her bands and weep bitterly.

"Oh, Robin, how could you be so wicked?" she cried. "What would father have said if he had been here? Oh, that I should have lived to see my son act so deceitfully!"

A piteous glance at his mother was the only answer he could make.

"Give me the basket," said Jonathan, stretching out a hand, which shook as though palsied. "Robin, you must return with me to Oaklands. I must see the master to-night. There can be no sleep for either of us until this matter is cleared up."

"Oh, Mr. Jonathan, I dare not see master! He will turn me from his service directly he hears what I have done."

"Don't be a coward, Robin! 'Dare and do the right!' is the Christian's motto, whatever the consequences may be," said the old man resolutely. "Master is a just and upright man, and ever a friend to those who need one. Commit your cause to God, and He will plead it for you."

But the boy's agony of mind was so great that he still sought for a subterfuge, and said, "But there may be nothing wrong in the basket. I never looked inside to see what cook put there. She said it was only something for her mother. Do open it and see."

"Not for the world," replied Jonathan. "Nobody but master shall cut that cord. Ah, Robin, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you like wheat; but the Lord Jesus is praying for you, I am sure of that, though you are now too miserable to pray for yourself. If there was nothing wrong about that basket, there would have been no need to send it away secretly. You know that as well as I do. I quite believe you did not know what terrible trouble you were bringing upon yourself when you promised to obey that dishonest woman; but that is another matter altogether."

"It will be in the hands of the police to-morrow!" sobbed the poor mother as her head bent still lower.

"Well, I believe there will be a piece of work for them here," said Jonathan, pointing to the basket, "if ever they were wanted; but I hope, for your sake, master will not expose it publicly. Come, Robin, we are wasting precious moments."

But the boy still lingered, though his old friend had moved to the door.

"Mother, forgive me!" he cried, melted into the deepest contrition, and quite overcome at sight of her hopeless stricken expression. His arms were round her neck now. "I never never will do such a thing again! Do believe me!"

"Robin," she said slowly, and raising her tear-filled eyes to his, "you have sinned deeply against God, and brought a stain on our good name which can never, I fear, be wiped out. Your master could not keep anyone in his service who had acted as you have."

"Do not add to the lad's distress," said kind old Jonathan, returning to lay his hand upon her arm. "Rather encourage him to face his duty like a man. Master is a Christian gentleman, who will do the right, whatever that may be. Pray for Robin; and may God send you an answer of mercy and peace! But take heart to believe your prayer will be answered, or it will not be the prayer of faith. I will do my best to speak up for the lad, you may be sure."

So saying, he went slowly out.

The boy gave one more look at his mother, and followed Jonathan with a sinking heart.

The two walked on together for some time in silence, Robin feeling as though he were being led to execution, while Jonathan lifted up his heart at every step to entreat the Father of the fatherless to look down in pity, and avert the shadow of evil now resting upon those in whom he took so deep an interest.