CHAPTER VI.

THE SECRET OF SUCCESS.

THAT evening, on his way from the school, Walter called at the Mill Cottage to inquire after Gracie, who had been very ill for some weeks past, having caught a violent cold, which had settled on her chest.

The night was fine, and the moon at the full. A slight frostiness in the air had strewn the roads with autumn leaves, telling the fast approaching winter season.

When Walter entered the kitchen, there was no one there but Mrs. Hardy and her daughters. Neither John Hardy nor Frank was visible. Walter thought that Mrs. Hardy seemed put out at his coming, and answered his inquiries about Gracie in a hastier manlier than usual.

"The child will do well enough after a bit. She wants better food, though, than I can afford her; the doctor said she was to have nourishing things. It's easy for such-like to talk."

"Has she been up yet?" asked Walter.

"I got her up to-day for a little while; but she said she was so tired that she was glad to get to bed again."

"Is that Walter, mother?" cried a voice from an adjoining room.

Mrs. Hardy looked annoyed—she evidently wished to get rid of Walter as quickly as possible.

"Yes, child, yes; but you ought to be asleep now," said her mother, not in a very kind or gentle tone.

"Let him just come to the door; I want so to speak to him, mother."

Walter moved across the kitchen towards the door where Gracie's voice proceeded.

"I am glad you are better, Gracie dear."

"I do hope I shall soon be well," cried the child; "it seems so long since I had a talk with you. And oh, Walter, my little seat at the bottom of the garden has got broken—and will you mend it for me? I know you will, for you are so kind. When I was so very ill, it made me so sad to think I should perhaps never see you again, Walter."

Here a violent fit of coughing interrupted Gracie's speech. And Mrs. Hardy made a sign to Walter not to talk much more to her.

"I must go now, Gracie dear," said Walter, when the child's coughing had ceased, "but I will come again very soon, and then I hope you will be able to be up; and I will see what your seat wants this very evening, so that it shall be ready for you by the time you want it. The moon shines so brightly that I can see as well as by daylight. Good-night, dear."

"Never mind the seat to-night," said Mrs. Hardy in a low voice, so that Grace could not hear. "There will be plenty of opportunity to see to it before Gracie will want it."

"It will not take me a minute, Mrs. Hardy," replied Walter, "and then I can bring whatever is wanted with me when I come again."

Walter wished Mrs. Hardy good evening, and left the cottage. He had not gone many steps along the little path leading to the water-side when he heard a rustling among the bushes, and saw, or fancied he saw, one of Gracie's sisters hastening in the same direction in which he was going, but by another path.

Presently a low whistle was heard.

A minute afterwards, he had reached the little seat which he had put up for Gracie. One of the legs had been wrenched off, evidently on purpose. Walter had taken the size of it, and was about to return towards the cottage, when, on looking towards the stream, upon which the moon shone full, he saw several figures on the opposite bank. They were either getting in or out of the boat; and again he heard the same low whistle.

He had no desire to pry into other people's business, and, least of all, did he care to have anything to do with the Hardys and their mysterious doings. He turned hastily away to retrace his steps, and in so doing nearly stumbled over a sack which lay partly concealed by a bush at one side of the seat. The sack was full, and by the bright moonlight Walter saw the tail-feather of a pheasant peeping out at the mouth of the sack.

He felt quite glad when he was once more out on the high-road. Once or twice he fancied he had heard voices calling after him; but he never stopped for a moment until he had got clear of Mill Cottage and the lane leading to it. Then he stood still for a moment to take breath.

"How right mother was to caution me against that Tom Haines!" thought Walter. "And how I wish that Frank would be warned in time before he gets into some terrible trouble, which he will do sooner or later."

Walter said nothing to his mother that evening about his having seen the sack, but he told her about poor Gracie's illness; and Mrs. White promised to make some broth and some light pudding for the sick child. When Walter, after reading his Bible as usual by the light of the fire, knelt down to say his prayers that evening, he prayed for Frank Hardy that he might have grace given him to turn aside from the evil way upon which he had entered.

It is to be feared that few of us act as if we felt the full value and the great privileges of prayer—of intercessory prayer. We all can pray when we want anything for ourselves, or for those who, by the ties of relationship, are most near and dear to us; but how few of us pray for our acquaintances, let alone our enemies. And yet what is our blessed Saviour's express command?—"Pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you."

No one can pray for his enemies and not feel kindly towards them. The very act of praying for another is unselfish in itself; and it is impossible to feel anger and bitterness towards one for whom we are asking God's grace and favour. So that the praying for our enemies brings down a blessing for ourselves by subduing in us the uncharitable feelings which we might have previously entertained towards the subject of our prayers.

When Walter met Frank the following morning, he looked confused and uneasy; and, taking advantage of a few moments when the foreman was absent from the shed, and the two lads were quite alone, he said,—

"What were you doing at our place last evening, Walter? And what made you walk away so fast? Did you not hear me calling to you?"

"I heard some one calling, but I did not recognise your voice, Frank. I had only gone down to the banks of the stream to see what was the matter with Gracie's seat, and she had asked me to mend it for her."

Frank appeared relieved by Walter's open and straightforward answer. Still there seemed something more upon his mind, although he hardly knew how to put the question. At length he said, "I wish you were one of us, Walter; it seems unnatural to have secrets from you; and if you would only come with me some evening, I could put you in the way of earning a nice little sum of money with very little trouble."

"I can never come with you, Frank," said Walter, earnestly. "I have seen quite enough, and—"

"What did you see?" interrupted Frank, with a scared look. "What did you see, I should like to know?" And then he added, in a quieter tone—"You won't tell any one, will you, Walter? You won't?"

"Don't be afraid, Frank; I have nothing to tell. When I say I have seen enough, I mean that Tom Haines' look last evening was quite enough for me. I would not be in his power for all the world."

"I am not in his power," exclaimed Frank, angrily.

"Nay, Frank, I saw you quail beneath his eye when he told you to make haste, and all your merriment seemed gone. Oh, Frank, it cannot be a good friend who can have such power over you."

The return of the foreman put a stop to the conversation, and there was no further opportunity for renewing it during the day, as Walter accompanied his master down to the lower village, and was at work there the whole of the afternoon.

Although so short a time had elapsed since the opening of the evening school, Walter had already made great progress both in mensuration and drawing; and he was now generally preferred before Frank to go with Mr. King when he wanted any assistance. That afternoon they were busy putting up the mouldings round the doors and windows of one of the houses on the shore, which they were hurrying to finish, as the gentleman who had purchased it wished to come and live in it as soon as possible. They were busily at work, when a message came for Mr. King, who was obliged to absent himself for a time.

"Can I trust you, Walter, do you think, to finish putting up this moulding by yourself? I promised that it should be done this evening, and I am obliged to go to the upper village for an hour at least."

"I can do it, sir, I know," said Walter, his eyes sparkling with pleasure at the thought of being trusted; "you shall see that you can trust me."

"Very well," said Mr. King, smiling. "You are a sharp lad, and a steady one too, and will rise in the world, if I am not very much mistaken."

Walter worked on steadily. He was really fond of his business, especially those parts of it which required peculiar nicety. Quite absorbed in what he was about, and whistling merrily as he worked, he was unconscious of the entrance of a good-natured-looking elderly gentleman, who stood for some minutes watching Walter as he was finishing a corner of a moulding which he had fitted with great exactness.

"Well done, youngster," said a cheerful voice; and Walter started as he looked up and saw the old gentleman watching him. "You are rather young to be trusted with such work as that; but you seem to know what you are about."

"Master was obliged to go away for a short time, sir, and he said I might try how I could get on in his absence."

"I am sorry Mr. King is not here, for I wanted to speak to him about putting some slight ornament in wood-work round that gable. I am leaving Springcliffe this evening, and shall be away a week. I know he could give me an idea of what I want on paper in a moment. I cannot draw a stroke myself, more's the pity; for I have often felt the loss of it, knowing quite well what I want, but being utterly unable to make others understand it."

While the gentleman was speaking, Walter had taken up a smoothly-planed piece of deal, which was lying upon the ground, and was drawing something upon it. Strange to say, he had been lately copying some designs for ornamental gables at the evening school, and he remembered enough of some of the patterns to give a very fair idea in his sketch.

"Is this anything like what you mean, sir?" he said, showing what he had just been drawing.

"It is something very like it," exclaimed the gentleman, with a look of surprise. "Where did you learn to draw like this?"

"At the evening school, sir. I go there three times a week, and practise at home besides."

"Your sketch does you great credit, my lad, and with a very little alteration would be just what I want. Can you round off that corner a little, and give that part rather more of a curve?"

Walter did as the gentleman suggested and his sketch was pronounced perfect.

[Illustration: "Is this anything like what you want, sir?"]

"Is this your first attempt at drawing a design?"

"Yes, sir; except what I have done at school."

"It does you great credit, and I shall tell your master so." He wrote a few lines on a card as he spoke, and putting it in an envelope which he had in his pocket, he gave it to Walter to give to Mr. King. "Here is half-a-crown for your first design, youngster," said the gentleman, "and it will not be the last you'll get, if you go on as you are now doing."

The gentleman left the house, and Walter worked doubly hard to make up for the time he had lost. He was most anxious to get as much done as possible before his master returned. When at last Mr. King did come back, he was much pleased with all that Walter had done, and praised him for his industry.

"But what is all this, Walter, eh?" said his master, as he opened the envelope which had been left for him by the old gentleman. "Mr. Danvers talks about a design of yours, with which he was much pleased. Where is it?"

"It is nothing particular, sir," said Walter, colouring, as he showed Mr. King the sketch he had drawn. "I took the idea from some designs we have been copying lately at the class, and it seemed to be just what Mr. Danvers wanted."

"I am very glad you are able to apply what you learn, Walter," said his master. "Those classes will make a man of you, if you go on at this rate."

Walter's face beamed with pleasure as his master spoke these words. He showed Mr. King the half-crown which Mr. Danvers had given him.

"You deserved it, Walter, and I will add another to it," continued Mr. King, taking his purse out of his pocket. "Now, put that five shillings into the Post-Office Savings' Bank this very evening, Walter, as the first fruits of the benefit you have reaped from having listened to good advice, and from having sacrificed a little of your leisure time to the laudable desire of improving yourself. I only wish Frank Hardy deserved the same encouragement.

"By the bye, Walter—I don't want you to tell any tales—but do you know how Frank employs himself in the evening? I rarely see him about the village, and he is always in a hurry to leave the yard."

"I don't know much about Frank, sir," replied Walter—"at least, I mean what he does after he leaves the yard; but I think he is a great deal with Tom Haines."

"Just so," said Mr. King; "I fear so also; and a worse companion it is impossible for a young lad to have; but why Tom Haines troubles himself about Frank is a mystery to me."