"Then the matter lies between you and David. Which of you stole the goods?"

"Oh, father!" exclaimed Clarice, "neither of them would do such a thing."

"Well, the goods must be somewhere," he replied, half-ashamed of his hot words. "Norris has often given me hints about the two, David and Owen; he says they are too much together for good."

"I expect Norris is at the bottom of it," said Clarice, eager to defend her young cousin.

"Nonsense. Norris has been with us for years. I would trust him as well as anybody. Owen, you can go to your own room for the present, till I decide what is to be done. Send David to me as soon as he returns."

Poor Owen, it was a sad ending to a pleasant little holiday. Things looked black, but he knew he had done as he was told, and that the goods had been carefully wrapped up, and laid on the counter ready to be taken away. Yet how could he prove it? Norris had seen him weighing the things out, but he had turned against him, and there was no other witness. He sat down by the side of his bed, and wondered what he should do if his uncle sent him to prison. Could he not run away? There were lots of ships about; perhaps he could get work on one of them. But better thoughts prevailed, and at last he sank on his knees, and prayed that some way might be found for him out of his trouble.

Meanwhile David had been questioned, and said that he had never been given anything for Mr. Davenport. He showed his book, stating what houses he had called at, and answered so straightforwardly that Mr.

Hadleigh at once acquitted him of all complicity in wrong-doing.

"It is just that nephew of yours, Mr. Hadleigh," said his wife; "a little sneaking fellow, trying to toady himself into your favour by industry, and then returning it in this fashion."

"Owen never did it," said Clarice, decidedly.

"Ah, you always favoured him. You and your father should have believed me, and this would never have occurred," said her mother, sweeping out of the room.

Clarice possessed great influence with her father, so when they were alone, he asked, "Don't you really think it is Owen?"

"No, father, I don't. I am certain he would not do such a thing. His father brought him up too well for that. Things have been missing before he came. If I were you, I should look after somebody else."

Nothing more was said. Business went on as usual till ten o'clock; then the shop was closed, and the family went upstairs to the sitting-room.

No one had been near Owen, or had even thought of taking him food, till Clarice suddenly remembered he had had nothing since breakfast; so filling a plate with some bread and b.u.t.ter, and a slice of cold meat, she hastily left the room, unquestioned by her parents.

Owen had fallen asleep, with his head resting against the washstand, and Clarice noticed that there were traces of tears on his face. She touched his arm, and he jumped up in a moment.

"I have brought you something to eat," she said, kindly; "I am so sorry I forgot to do so before; I am afraid you are nearly starved."

"No, it didn't matter; but I am glad to have it now. What is going to be done?" he asked, watching his cousin's face anxiously.

"Nothing can be done to-night. Father wants to find out the truth, of course. I think if we asked G.o.d to let it be seen who took the things, He would make it plain."

"I am sure he would if we were His children. But you see we are not."

The words were said sorrowfully and slowly.

Clarice did not reply for a moment, as she watched her cousin eating his supper. "We must see what to-morrow brings," she said, at last; "go to bed now."

Mr. Hadleigh could find no direct evidence against Owen. The goods had vanished, certainly, but it was not at all clear who had taken them. He did not care to prosecute his own nephew, and he would not turn him adrift for his dead brother's sake. So things went on much as usual, though the boy knew he was only tolerated, and was carefully watched, whatever he did.

When Sunday came, Owen gladly went off to his kind friends. Mr.

Netherclift had heard all about the accusation from David, and felt much for the orphan lad. Again he put the Gospel earnestly and faithfully before him; but he was a wise man; he would not hurry any soul, though he knew there must be a moment of decision, and he entreated the boy not to put it off. As to the present trial, he urged Owen to do his every-day work faithfully and well, as under the eye of G.o.d, and he felt sure that his uncle would in time be a.s.sured that he was not the culprit.

"It seems strange this should happen just now, when I want to do right.

It is only this week that I have begun to read my Bible again. When I didn't read it nothing disagreeable happened."

"Ah, my boy, if you were older and more experienced, you would know why.

When you were content to live just for this world alone, without a thought of G.o.d and eternal things, Satan left you alone. But the moment you begin to seek G.o.d, Satan does all he can to hinder and keep you back. No doubt he has stirred up some of his servants to work you this evil; but be sure of this, G.o.d will right you in good time."

A quiet, happy evening was spent, Owen feeling very grateful for sympathy, and being much cheered to see that the Netherclifts never for one moment doubted his honesty. But he went home early, saying he wished to be alone, and would not go to the mission-hall that night.

CHAPTER V.

SUNSHINE AND SHADE.

Clarice and Owen generally breakfasted together very early, some time before Mr. and Mrs. Hadleigh appeared. Clarice had spent an anxious night, partly on her own account, and partly being troubled about Owen, as Norris continued to speak against him whenever he could; so that she was quite startled to see her cousin come into the room with a calm, sunny face.

"What is the matter!" she exclaimed; "has father found out it was not you?"

"No; I wish he had."

"Then what makes you look so happy?"

"Clarice, I do believe the Lord Jesus has saved me, and made me His child."

They were simple words, but they told of a great change, and Clarice burst into tears.

"Why do you cry?" asked Owen, presently.

"Because I want the same; I see it has made you 'rich,' Owen."

"You can have it too, if you will. Only you must go to the Lord Jesus for it, as I did."

The rest of the breakfast pa.s.sed almost in silence. Clarice could not speak, and it was not easy for Owen to tell of his new-found joy. They went down together to the shop, and the morning's work began. The boy's bright face was not unnoticed, though no one else asked him the reason of it.

A fortnight pa.s.sed away, and Owen seemed no nearer being cleared. Norris was as disagreeable as ever, doing all he could to get the boy into trouble; but his unfailing truthfulness and integrity saved him from falling into the traps laid for him, and this angered Norris still more.

Mrs. Hadleigh, too, continued as distant as ever, and was much annoyed to see the change in Clarice, which she attributed solely to her cousin's influence.

"I can't think what has taken the girl," she said to her husband one day; "your nephew has brought his religious notions here, and has turned her head. Such trouble as I've taken to keep her from all pious people, too, fearing they would fill her head with fancies. And here she is as religious as any of them. I might just as well have saved myself the trouble."

"Exactly so," said her husband, dryly.

"I do believe you will go the same way, James."

"Might do worse."

"And after all our toil to work up the business!"

"My dear, the business won't suffer."

Meanwhile, in the shop below, Norris had sent Owen on an errand to the stores underneath the ground; he had to go down through a trap door to the cellar, and not going quick enough to suit the young man, or out of spite, Norris give him a push, which, loaded as he was, made him lose his footing and fall heavily through the opening.