"O, yes, I shall. I don't think it is safe for me to stay here much longer."

"Why not? Hardly any one ever goes through the woods here at this time of year but myself."

"Didn't your mother want to know what you were going to do with the dinner you brought me?"

"No, I went to the store room, and got it. She didn't see me; but I don't like to do anything unknown to her."

"You mustn't do it again."

"You must have something to eat."

"You have brought enough to last me while I stop here. To-morrow morning I must start; so I suppose I shall not see you again. But I shall never forget you," said Harry looking as sad as he felt.

"No, you mustn't go off without any breakfast. Promise me you will not go till I have brought you some."

Harry a.s.sured Julia he had enough, and tried to persuade her not to bring him any more food; but Julia was resolute, and he was obliged to promise. Having finished his dinner, she gathered up the remnants of the feast and put them in the cabin for his supper. She was afraid to remain any longer, lest she might be missed at home and Harry gallantly escorted her beyond the brook on her return home.

He busied himself during the greater part of the afternoon in gathering dry gra.s.s and dead leaves for the improvement of his bed in the cabin. About an hour before sundown, he was surprised to receive another visit from Julia Bryant. She had her little basket in one hand, and in the other she carried a little package.

"I didn't expect to see you again," said Harry, as she approached.

"I don't know as you will like what I have done," she began timidly; "but I did it for the best."

"I shall like anything you have done," answered Harry promptly, "even if you should send me back to Redfield."

"I wouldn't do such a mean thing as that; but I have told somebody that you are here."

"Have you?" asked Harry, not a little alarmed.

"You will forgive me if I have done wrong--won't you?"

Harry looked at her. He mistook her anxious appearance for sorrow at what she had done. He could not give her pain; so he told her that, whatever she had done, she was forgiven.

"But whom have you told?"

"John Lane."

"Who is he?"

"Mrs. Lane's oldest son. He drives the baggage wagon that goes to Boston every week. He promised not to lisp a word to a single soul, and he would be your friend for my sake."

"Why did you tell him?"

"Well, you see, I was afraid you would never get to Boston; and I thought what a nice thing it would be if you could only ride all the way there with John Lane. John likes me because I carry things to his mother, and I am sure he won't tell."

"How good you are, Julia!" exclaimed Harry. "I may forget everybody else in the world; but I shall never forget you."

A tear moistened his eye, as he uttered his enthusiastic declaration.

"The worst of it is, John starts at two o'clock--right in the middle of the night."

"So much the better," replied Harry, wiping away the tear.

"You will take the wagon on the turnpike, where the cart path comes out. But you won't wake up."

"Yes, I shall."

"I am sorry to have you go; for I like you, Harry. You will be a very good boy, when you get to Boston; for they say the city is a wicked place."

"I will try."

"There are a great many temptations there, people say."

"I shall try to be as good as you are," replied Harry, who could imagine nothing better. "If I fail once, I shall try again."

"Here, Harry, I have brought you a good book--the best of all books. I have written your name and mine in it; and I hope you will keep it and read it as long as you live. It is the Bible."

Harry took the package, and thanked her for it.

"I never read the Bible much; but I shall read this for your sake."

"No, Harry; read it for your own sake."

"I will, Julia."

"How I shall long to hear from you! John Lane goes to Boston every week. Won't you write me a few lines, now and then, to let me know how you prosper, and whether you are good or not?"

"I will. I can't write much; but I suppose I can--"

"Never mind how you write, if I can only read it."

The sun had gone down, and the dark shadows of night were gathering over the forest when they parted, but a short distance from Mr.

Bryant's house. With the basket which contained provisions for his journey and the Bible in his hand, he returned to the hut, to get what sleep he might before the wagon started.

CHAPTER XI

IN WHICH HARRY REACHES THE CITY, AND THOUGH OFTEN DISAPPOINTED, TRIES AGAIN

Harry entered the cabin, and stretched himself on his bed of straw and leaves; but the fear that he should not wake in season to take the wagon at the appointed place, would scarcely permit him to close his eyes. He had not yet made up for the sleep he had lost; and Nature, not sharing his misgiving, at last closed and sealed his eyelids.

It would be presumptuous for me to attempt to inform the reader what Harry dreamed about on that eventful night; but I can guess that it was about angels, about bright faces and sweet smiles, and that they were very pleasant dreams. At any rate, he slept very soundly, as tired boys are apt to sleep, even when they are anxious about getting up early in the morning.

He woke, at last, with a start; for with his first consciousness came the remembrance of the early appointment. He sprang from his bed, and threw down the door of the cabin. It was still dark; the stars twinkled above, the owls screamed, and the frogs sang merrily around him. He had no means of ascertaining the time of night. It might be twelve; it might be four; and his uncertainty on this point filled him with anxiety. Better too early than too late; and grasping the basket and the Bible, which were to be the companions of his journey, he hastened down the cart path to the turnpike.