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Title: Friend and foe
Or, the breastplate of righteousness
Author: A. L. O. E.
Release date: February 16, 2024 [eBook #72968]
Language: English
Original publication: London: Gall & Inglis, 1875
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRIEND AND FOE ***
Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: "I do like to look on such a sunset," Norah said,
adding softly, "it makes one think of Heaven."]
FRIEND AND FOE;
OR,
The Breastplate of Righteousness.
BY
A. L. O. E.
AUTHORESS OF "THE CLAREMONT TALES," "THE SILVER KEYS,"
"THE WHITE BEAR'S DEN,"
ETC.
LONDON:
GALL & INGLIS, 25 PATERNOSTER SQUARE.
AND EDINBURGH.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I. SMALL LEAKS
II. THE LITTLE MAID
III. PROFESSION AND PRACTICE
IV. PUTTING ON ARMOUR
V. PROVING THE ARMOUR
VI. HELP IN NEED
VII. ANOTHER TRIUMPH
VIII. THE CANVAS BAG
Friend and Foe;
OR, THE
BREASTPLATE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS
CHAPTER I.
SMALL LEAKS.
"You'll never succeed, Ned!" cried Bessy Peele, with a little laugh, as
she stood watching her maimed brother's attempts to write a letter.
Twice, the wind coming through the cottage door had sent his paper
fluttering to the ground. Ned had raised it, and then tried to fix it
by placing a pebble upon it, but the paper had slipped from under the
pebble as soon as the sailor had begun to write.
"It's not much," continued Bessy, "that a one-armed man can do."
"He can polish up your window. Bessy, and carry your basket, and get
your garden into trim order," answered the sailor with cheerful good
humour.
And leaving the cottage for a few moments, Ned soon returned with a
brick, the weight of which as effectually fastened down the sheet as if
he had had a left hand to rest upon it.
"Safe at anchor at last!" cried Ned. "But this is a clumsy way of
getting over the difficulty. Necessity, folk say, is the mother of
invention. I'll get the carpenter, as soon as I have the ready rhino
to pay for it, to screw on some bit of timber to this maimed stump of
mine, with something like a hook at the end; 'twill serve almost as
well as a hand, and save me and my friends no end of trouble."
"Not a bad thought!" cried Bessy, who was apt to grumble at having to
give the little assistance which the one-armed sailor required. "You
needn't wait, Ned, till you've the money. Bill Jones, who works at the
carpenter's, is a handy lad, and owes me a deal of kindness for nursing
his mother in sickness. He'll manage to look out a good bit of hard
wood and a hook, will make what you want cleverly, and never say a word
about payment."
"I'd rather wait till I've shot in my locker," said Ned. "The poor
lad's time is his money."
"His master's rather," observed Bessy. "But old Stone is an easy-going
man, and does not keep a very sharp look out. Why Bill Jones—a good
fellow is he—made a little chest of drawers for his mother, all of
mahogany wood, and I don't believe that his master so much as guessed
that he had not been working from morning till night every day in the
week at the fittings in Sir Lacy Barton's study."
Ned had begun his letter, but he raised his head, and the ink dried
on his pen as he inquired, "Do you mean that he helped himself to his
master's wood, and used up the time which belonged to his master, to
make a chest for his mother? And do you call him 'good' for this?"
"I do call him good, and clever too!" answered Bessy, sharply. "Isn't
it right for a lad to care for his mother? And wouldn't it be right for
him to do a good turn for a poor maimed sailor, who has lost his arm
serving the Queen?"
"Would it be right in Bill Jones to carry off Sir Lacy's purse to give
to his mother; or, if I chanced to be in want, to help a poor maimed
Jack-tar like me?"
"How can you ask such idle questions?" cried Bessy Peele, in a tone of
contempt. "Why, if Bill Jones did a thing like that, he'd be clapped
into jail directly."
"Keep to the question, mistress!" said Ned, with a playful twinkle in
his bright blue eye. "I didn't ask whether it would be safe for Bill to
take Sir Lacy's purse, out of love for his mother, or kindness for me,
but whether it would be right for him to be generous at the expense of
another man."
"Taking a purse! That would be downright stealing!" cried Bessy.
"And are not the wood and the labour he pays for, as much the
carpenter's property, as the purse is Sir Lacy Barton's? Is it not just
as wrong to rob the one as the other?"
"I never knew a man with such particular notions as you have!" cried
Bessy, tossing her head. "You're always pulling one up sharp with the
question whether a thing is right!"
"Because," said Ned Franks, gravely, "we have to do with a righteous
God. Mind you, Bessy, the Bible is the only chart as is given us to
steer by, and when one sees in that chart, 'provide things honest in
the sight of all men,' *—'He that is faithful in that which is least
is faithful also in much, and he that is unjust in the least is unjust
also in much,' † one learns that the safe channel is a very narrow
channel indeed, and that if we don't carefully keep the right course,
we shall run the vessel aground."
* Rom. xii. 17. † Luke xvi. 10
"Well," said Bessy, as she laid out some linen to iron, "I for one will
never believe that the great God above ever notices such little matters
as these you speak of."
"Maybe you'd have thought it a little matter for Eve to pluck a fruit,
but 'twas a matter that let in death and misery into a world," said
Ned. "The skipper of the first craft as ever I sailed in, thought it
a little matter when, one evening, our vessel just touched on a rock,
as he fancied; he smoked his pipe, drank his grog, and turned into
his cabin, and never dreamed of the small leak down below, till he
was wakened in the morning with the cry of 'Three feet water in the
hold!' The vessel was as nigh lost as could be, with all the hands on
board. And 'tis so with our souls, Bessy Peele. The little sins, as we
call them, are the little leaks in the timber, and if one goes to the
bottom, 'tis all the same, whether the water came in by a big hole or a
small one."
Bessy banged down her hot iron on the shirt before her with a noise and
bustle which seemed to say, "I want no more of this preaching."
Ned Franks quietly dipped his pen again and went on with his letter.
Presently Bessy looked towards the door of her cottage.
"I thought Norah would have been here afore this," she observed; "she
generally manages to walk over early from the town."
"You said, if I remember right, that her mistress kindly allows her to
visit home the first Monday in every month."
"Yes," replied Bessy Peele, "and it's a great pleasure it is for Norah
and me to meet. She's a good girl, if ever there was one. I've had a
deal more comfort in her than in Dan. She has been in her place now for
more than a year, and I don't believe that Mrs. Martin has had ever a
fault to find with my girl."
"What sort of a lady is Mrs. Martin?" asked Ned.
"Oh! One of your saintly ones," cried Bessy. "Always has my girl up to
read the Bible to her of an evening, and sees that she goes to church
once or twice every Sunday. The lady's getting a little old, and a
little blind, Norah says, and can't afford to give good wages, but a
respectable place like that is a stepping-stone to a better."
"Bessy," cried the sailor, "if your girl is moored in a safe good
harbour, don't you be in haste to have her heave anchor and hoist sail;
there's more to be thought of in a place than the mere matter of wages."
"Ah! But—" began Mrs. Peele, but she interrupted herself with an
exclamation of pleasure—"Here she is!"—as a bright, pretty-looking girl
of fourteen ran eagerly into the cottage.
Norah, for it was she, was warmly welcomed by her mother, and then
presented to the one-armed sailor.
"Here's your uncle, my dear, whom you never have seen afore, who's been
in the storms and the wars."
"And who is heartily glad to see you," cried Ned.
CHAPTER II.
THE LITTLE MAID.
NED and Norah very soon made friends with one another. There was a
cheerful kindliness about the maimed sailor, that set the young girl at
her ease.
"He seems so frank and pleasant," thought Norah, "and there's such
a bright honest look in his eyes, that I'm sure I shall like him
extremely."
"She's a trim little vessel," thought the sailor, "with a pretty
figure-head of her own; but I wish that she carried a little less
bunting, she'd look better without all those flowers."
Norah had indeed a sweet innocent face, but her dress was not such as
beseemed her station in life—it showed an effort to look fine, which
did not prevent it from looking shabby. The gay-coloured dress was
stuck out by a hoop; the bonnet, which was rather an old one, was
trimmed with some large half-faded pink flowers. To the simple-minded
sailor it became the young maiden so ill that he was glad when it was
taken off, and Norah's neatly braided hair appeared the sole ornament
of her head.
But Mrs. Peele was not of the sailor's opinion. "My dear, what pretty
flowers!" she exclaimed, taking up the bonnet in her hand, and turning
it round to admire the trimming.
"Sophy Puller gave the flowers to me: was it not kind?" said Norah.
"And she gave me this too," she added, pulling out of her dress a gaudy
glass brooch, made to imitate diamonds and rubies.
Mrs. Peele was charmed with the brooch, and handed it over to Ned, who
held it between his finger and thumb, looked at it for a moment, and
then returned it in silence to its owner.
"Who is Sophy Puller?" asked he, thinking to himself, "I hope that the
giver of that trumpery is not of a piece with her gift."
"She's a milliner's apprentice, and such a dear girl!" cried the
artless Norah. "She often drops in to tea, and we have such famous
gossips together over our bread and butter! It is so friendly and
pleasant!"
"And do you get your mistress's leave to entertain this messmate?"
inquired the sailor.
Nosh's smooth cheek flushed, and she looked a little embarrassed, as,
without answering her uncle's question directly, she said, "I don't
think there can be any harm."
"Harm indeed!" exclaimed Bessy Peele, warmly. "It would be hard indeed
if a poor girl could not give a slice of bread and butter to a friend."
"At her mistress's expense," added Ned.
Norah appeared uneasy and confused, and turned her inquiring eyes on
her uncle, as if he had suggested some painful doubt which had never
before entered into her mind.
Mrs. Peele called away her attention.
"Let's see what you've brought in that parcel, my darling; it's never
empty-handed as Norah comes to her mother!"
The parcel was carried to the window, and Ned Franks, who had no
curiosity to know its contents, sat down again to his writing.
His ear was, however, soon caught by his sister's scornful exclamation,
"Tea indeed! You don't mean to say that Mrs. Martin gives four
shillings a pound for this powdery trash!"
"Bessy," said the sailor, looking up with a smile, "if the lady kindly
sends you a present, don't you take it for better or worse?"
Again Norah looked at her uncle with that perplexed inquiring gaze, and
seemed about to speak.
But her mother gave her a nudge, with a whisper, "Say nothing, he takes
things so oddly."
Neither the nudge nor the words escaped the quick perception of Ned.
"Sunken rocks!" thought he. "I must sound that poor simple child as to
how she came by that tea, if I chance to catch her alone."
Dan Peele soon came home from the fields, and his sharp cunning
features were lighted up with such honest joy at sight of his sister,
that Ned Franks said to himself, "There's a warm corner in the heart of
that boy, I've judged the poor fellow hardly."
"I'm always so glad when you come home, Norah," cried Dan, almost
dancing with glee, making the party laugh by adding, "then mother gives
us such a thundering big pudding, and puts on the jam so thick."
Norah's presence indeed added not a little to the cheerfulness of the
little circle at the family meal. She laughed and chatted gaily, and
told many a little incident of her life with Mrs. Martin.
"Did I ever tell you, mother, of my first trying to read aloud to
my mistress? The dear teacher at our school used to say that I read
well—but wasn't I a bit frightened at the notion of having to read
aloud in a drawing-room! I could hardly get up my courage when the bell
rang, and I had to go up on purpose to read. There was the old lady in
her big arm-chair, and the lamp with its shade on the table."
"'Take a seat, Norah,' said my mistress kindly, 'and go on with the
work where I left off.'"
"'I'm glad it's to be sewing, not reading,' thought I. But wasn't I
puzzled when not a bit of work could I see, nothing on the table but
one old-looking book! I peeped about here and there, without daring to
get up from my chair, wondering where the work could be hidden, while
my mistress was wondering all the while why I did not begin."
"'What are you waiting for, Norah?' said she."
"'Please, ma'am, I can't find no work, I think it must have dropped
under the table?'"
Norah's little story was duly laughed at, especially by Dan, who did
not understand the joke, as he knew as little as his sister had done,
that a book can be spoken of as "a work."
"Oh and another time I was so stupid!" Norah went on, laughing at the
recollection. "I was reading to mistress a large new book, that had
a good many pictures in it, when she dropped asleep as she sometimes
does."
"When, just waking from her nap, 'Norah,' says she, 'I'd like to look
at the plates.'"
"Up jumped I with a 'Yes, ma'am, directly; shall I bring the kitchen
plates or the china?'"
Again there was a burst of merriment at the blunder of the little
maiden.
"Do you like the reading, Norah?" asked Ned.
"Why, yes, sometimes," answered the lively young girl, "only the
sermons are rather too long."
"Sermons!" exclaimed Dan and his mother in a breath; and the latter
added, "I hope you get some other reading besides that."
"Oh, yes, history and travels; and then, you know, Sophy Puller lends
me books to read by myself."
"What sort of books?" asked the sailor.
"Oh, delightful books!" exclaimed Norah. "I'm in the middle of one now,
all about a dreadfully wicked woman who killed her husband, and I think
she'll be hanged at the end—but she had great excuses you know."
"That must be jolly reading," cried Dan; but Ned Franks shook his curly
head.
"I very much doubt that such reading is good for our little lass,"
observed he.
"Well, I own, it's very tiresome to have to leave off in the middle to
sweep a room or cook a dinner," cried the girl, "but I sit up late at
night to make up."
"I don't look on that Sophy Puller as your true friend," observed Ned
Franks.
"Oh, don't say that—she is so kind: she wanted me to come out and spend
the evening with her sometimes, when she has each fun, and dancing, and
larking with her companions. I should have liked of all things to go;
but when I asked mistress, she shook her head and said that she did not
approve of young girls being out late at night."
"I say, wasn't that a shame?" exclaimed Dan.
"It's a hard thing that she should keep you so tight, and not let you
have a bit of fun, when you're slaving all day," cried Bessy.
"A hard thing is it," said Ned Franks, "that the lady won't let your
child go swimming amongst the sharks?"
"If I was you, Norah," cried Dan, "I'd slip off without leave after the
old dame was abed; you said she shut up soon after eight."
"That's just what Sophy told me," said Norah.
"But you was afraid, I s'pose, of being caught," observed Dan.
"I was more afraid," replied Norah, simply, "that mistress might be
taken ill in the night, and you know she depends upon me."
"God help that poor child, she's beset with snares," thought the
one-armed sailor. "When she comes home she learns nothing but
dishonesty, covetousness, and untruth; at her place there's an evil
influence drawing her in like a whirlpool to folly, and may be to
worse. And she so simple and artless. Simple and artless now, but if
she have much to do with that Sophy Puller, it is not long that she'll
keep so. I should like to drop in a word of warning, but I can't do it
here, as Bessy is always driving on the opposite tack."
"Norah," he said aloud, "will you let me walk back with you in the
evening?"
"I should be so glad to have you," cried the girl, "and then I need not
hurry back so early. Mistress told me unless my brother or some one
would see me home, I was not to stay out after sunset."
"A careful mistress," observed Ned.
"The cross old crab!" exclaimed his nephew, both speaking at the same
moment.
"Oh, no, she's not cross," cried Norah. "My mistress is good, very
good; I never knew any one like her but Mr. Curtis, our vicar, and my
dear kind teacher at school."
"You'd like her a deal better, I guess, if she wasn't so strict," said
Mrs. Peele.
"I don't know, I'm not quite sure of that," replied Norah, in a
hesitating tone. "I should like Mrs. Martin to see more company, and
to let me have a little more freedom, but she does not keep me in out
of crossness. If you only knew how good she is to the poor, and how
dearly she loves her Bible, and how patient she is when in pain, and
she suffers a great, great deal, 'specially from her poor eyes, but
she never murmurs at all!" The girl's face kindled with emotion as she
spoke of her kind old mistress, and Ned watched it with a feeling of
pleasure, while his heart warmed towards his young niece.
"Blessings on the child, they've not spoilt her yet," thought he. "She
sees the light, and she's bearing towards it; shame is it that those
nearest to her should try to turn her out of her course."
CHAPTER III.
PROFESSION AND PRACTICE.
"MIND now that you manage to give the old woman the slip, and have a
jolly night of it with your friend Sophy Puller—" such were the words
with which Dan Peele parted from his sister, as she set out with the
sailor on her long walk back to the county town in which her mistress
resided.
It was a glorious evening. The sun had just stink below the horizon,
but lines of glowing fire showed where his orb had dipped below the
blue hills, and his beams had left a rich rosy flush on the clouds that
floated above.
Ned Franks, as he gazed on that beautiful sky, felt that the young girl
who tripped on by his side shared his sense of peaceful enjoyment.
Norah was the first to break silence. "I do like to look on such a
sunset," she said, adding softly, "it makes one think of heaven."
"The home we're bound for," said Ned.
"I hope so," murmured Norah, in a tone that was scarcely above a
whisper.
"And how do you think we are ever to get to heaven?" asked the sailor.
"Oh, surely you know!" answered Norah, with some surprise at the
question, since, from several words dropped by himself in the course
of the day, and from what she had heard of him from her mother, Norah
had judged her uncle to be a very religious man. "My mistress has often
told me that all believers go to heaven, because the Lord Jesus died
for them, and has washed away all their sins."
"Right, quite right," said the sailor fervently; "that's the pole—star
Faith always points to, that's what we must always keep in view. But
who are believers, Norah? Though heaven lie straight afore us all, I
take it that few will be so bold as to say that all who are called
Christians will get to heaven."
Norah did not answer for two or three minutes, and then said, "Are not
believers those who love the Lord Jesus Christ?"
"Right again!" cried Ned Franks. "And now tell me, Norah, is it not
true that when we love any one much, we are ready and glad to do
something for his sake?"
"Oh! Yes, indeed!" exclaimed Norah. "I've often thought that. I should
like to do something for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ. I was
lately reading to my mistress of the early martyrs, and then it seemed
to be such a great and noble thing to die for religion."
"It is just as great and noble a thing, Norah, my girl, to live for
religion, and that is what all believers must do; for we only deceive
ourselves when we think that without obedience to God we have either
true faith or love."
"I don't quite know what you mean," said Norah.
"Do you remember the words of Christ? 'He that taketh not his cross and
followeth after Me, is not worthy of Me.'" *
* Matthew x. 38
"I can't tell what my cross is," said Norah, "nor how I can take it up."
"We take up our cross whenever we do for conscience what we would not
do for pleasure," observed Ned, "or when we give up for the Lord's
sake what we would willingly have for our own. To come to the point,
Norah—for I like plain sailing, and you'll understand twenty times
better if I speak of a simple fact—would you mind telling me frankly
whether Mrs. Martin gave you that tea?"
"No," replied Norah, faintly.
"Thank God, she at least is truthful," thought the sailor.
"And did you," he continued aloud, "buy that tea for your mother?"
Norah silently shook her head.
"Then tell me, child, how did you get it?"
Ned bent down his tall head, but could scarcely catch the low answer,
"I took it."
"Just what I feared," said Ned Franks.
"But indeed—indeed," cried Norah Peele, "I did not know that I was
doing so wrong! I would not have touched money or anything like that,
but—but mistress would never miss it, I thought, and mother always
expects some little present when I come home, and I've nothing to spare
out of my wages, and so many, many do the same thing. I never was told
that it was such a sin!"
"Did not conscience tell you, my child? Did not the Word of God tell
you? Where it exhorts 'servants to be obedient unto their own masters,
and to please them well in all things; not answering again, NOT
PURLOINING, but shewing all good fidelity, that they may adorn the
doctrine of God our Saviour in all things.'" *
* Titus ii. 9-10.
"I did wrong, very wrong," murmured Norah, "but it is so difficult to
deny one's self, and to deny others, and always to keep duty before
one, however hard it may be."
"That is our cross," observed Ned.
"But I thought," said Norah, "indeed I'm sure, that both my mistress
and the clergyman have said over and over again, that the Lord bore
the cross for us, and that now we've nothing to do to earn our own
salvation; we've just to believe, and we're safe."
"Do you forget what the Bible says, 'the devils also believe and
tremble.'" *
"They do not believe and love, as we do."
"They do not believe and obey as we must do, Norah. What were the
words of the Lord to those whom He called to be His disciples, were
they not, 'follow Me'? And if we follow the Holy Saviour, think you it
can be on a path of sin? God forbid! Nay, St John says, 'Whosoever is
born of God cloth not commit sin.' † We must put on the breastplate of
righteousness, if we would follow the Lord."
* James ii. 9 † 1 John iii. 9.
"But no one, not the best, has nothing more to do with sin," murmured
Norah.
"True enough," said Ned Franks, stopping in his walk, as if to give
more force to his words, "but they have to do with it as an enemy,
not as a master, they have to fight it, not to obey. Look you here,
Norah," continued the sailor, seeking an illustration from objects most
familiar to his own mind; "if you and I saw a frigate, with the Union
Jack of old England floating aloft, would we not say at once that she
was a British vessel?"
"Yes," replied Norah, wondering at the abrupt turn in the conversation.
"But if we saw her, with all sails set, making right for a Russian
port, and if we could see through a glass that there were Russian
sailors in the rigging, a Russian pilot at the helm, a Russian captain
giving commands, should we believe that the frigate was English, if
half-a-dozen Union Jacks were hoisted from the mast?"
"No," replied Norah, quickly, "we should think that the flags were hung
up for a sham."
"And it is a sham, nothing but a sham," exclaimed Ned, walking on
again, and faster than before, "for man, woman, or child to set up
Christian profession, when they care nothing for Christian practice;
to hang out, as it were, the flag of the Cross, while self-will steers
where Satan directs, and they're hearing right on for the rock of
destruction."
"Think you that a real Christian would willingly hold parley with any
sin, far less welcome it upon deck? No, it is his enemy, his Saviour's
enemy, which he must resist to the death. If it tries to board, as 'tis
always trying, he must yield it not a foot, not an inch; he must hurl
it over the bulwarks, throw it into the sea, give no quarter to sin, in
the name and in the strength of the Great Captain of his salvation!"
Ned's tone was raised, his eyes flashed, and he instinctively clenched
his hand as thus, in figurative language, he described the Christian's
secret struggle against sin.
Norah felt roused and animated, though she hardly realised the full
meaning of what the sailor had said.
"Do you not think," asked the girl after a short pause, "that it is not
easy for us always to tell what is sin and what is not? People view the
same thing in such different ways."
"It seems easy enough to me," replied the simple-minded tar. "We've
not to trouble ourselves with what this person thinks, or that person
fancies, but come straight for our sailing orders to the Lord. Is that
what He would approve? Is that what He would have done in my place?
I guess, Norah, that you would not have taken that tea had you known
that your mistress's eye was upon you, much less had you felt that your
heavenly Captain looked on."
Norah drooped her head, and was silent.
"So you see, dear child," continued Ned, "that we've a daily battle
to fight, and a daily cross to take up, if our faith is a real thing,
if our religion be not a sham. The Lord's Cross was the cross of
sacrifice, no one but Himself could bear that, and that He endured
for our sakes; our cross is the cross of daily self-denial, which we
must take up for His sake. If we've anything, great or small, that
is displeasing to our Lord, be it a bad habit, a sinful pleasure, a
foolish companion, or even a book, we must give it up at once, and for
ever. A Christian must be holy, for his Master is holy; he must wear
the breastplate of righteousness, the guard for the heart against sin."
"I should like to wear it," said Norah, whose thoughts had lately been
more turned to the subject of religion than they had ever been in her
childhood's home.
"Then I've but one more bit of advice for you, my girl," cried the
sailor; "'tis one I should like you to get from wiser lips than mine.
Ask the Lord for that breastplate of righteousness, for one that will
stand rough work and hard blows; don't trust in any pasteboard good
resolutions of your own."
And with this simple but important word of counsel, Ned Franks closed a
conversation which was to leave a lasting impression upon the mind of
his youthful niece.
CHAPTER IV.
PUTTING ON ARMOUR.
NORAH PEELS was of an affectionate disposition and an eager spirit, and
she was at an age when there is an attraction in anything new. What she
had heard of religion from Mrs. Martin, and at the church which she
constantly attended, had drawn her heart towards her Saviour, and made
her delight in feeling that she owed all her hopes of heaven to Him.
Norah took pleasure in going to church, especially in listening to the
sweet music, and her eyes would fill with tears when she heard or read
of the sufferings of Christ.
But Norah's religion had been one of feeling rather than of practice;
its power had not overcome evil habits which she had acquired in her
home. It had been rather like fragrant oil floating on the top of a
vase of water, than like wine, which spreads through the whole, giving
colour and sweetness to every drop. Norah's religion had been too much
like a Sunday dress, not worn in her working hours; it had not made her
perfectly honest, just, and true in all her dealings. Norah had come to
Christ, like the rich young man of whom we read in the gospel, but she
had not yet learned to follow Christ in the steps of His holy life.
The few blunt words of the sailor had opened Norah's eyes to the truth.
Had she hitherto deserved the name of a Christian at all? Had not
hers been a false profession? If so, should she not, from henceforth,
resolve to lead a new life, to be what she had wished to appear, to
deny sinful self, to take up her cross and follow her Lord!
Norah, with the eagerness of her nature, determined to do all this,
perhaps without sufficiently counting the cost, perhaps without
dwelling enough on the warning, "ask the Lord for that breastplate of
righteousness which will stand rough work and hard blows; don't trust
in any pasteboard resolutions of your own." From henceforth, Norah
determined that she would let her light so shine before men, that they
should see her good works, and glorify her Father in heaven.
When Norah had fulfilled her usual evening duties, read to Mrs. Martin,
made her tea, seen to her comforts, and left her in quiet repose for
the night, the young girl sought her own little room, with her mind and
heart still full of what her sailor uncle had said. She had usually
amused herself at night with reading the trashy novel lent by Sophy
Puller, but now for the first time North Peele paused before she opened
the book.
"I wonder if this is one of the things which I must give up?" thought
Norah. "Certainly it makes me sit up very late at night, and mistress
wonders how I can use up so many candles, and she has often told me
to go to bed early, for fear I should fall asleep over my work, and
set the house on fire. And then these novels do fill my head so full
of thoughts—some very bad ones I fear! While I was reading the Bible
to mistress, I could not help my mind running on that dreadful woman
and that horrible murder, they interested me so! Yet what is the harm
in reading; how shall I know if it is really my duty to give up this
pleasure?"
Norah half opened the dirty volume.
"What did my uncle say? He told me to bring everything straight to the
Lord, to ask—Is this what He would approve, what He would have done in
my place?"
Norah shut the book, and thrust it into a drawer: her conscience had
given an honest answer to the question, and the pleasure which she felt
from the consciousness that she had for once exercised self-denial,
quite made up to the little maid for the amusement which she had lost.
Norah went to rest that night more happy than she had ever felt before.
But when Norah awoke in the grey dawn, and rose to perform her round
of daily duties, the first fervour of excited feeling had had a
little time to cool, and she began more seriously to consider what
difficulties might beset her in her new course of practical obedience.
A variety of things, small in themselves, yet of great importance,
because they were matters of conscience, pressed on the young girl's
mind.
Must she not so much as take a reel of cotton that was not her own—nor
touch that plateful of sweet cakes which had hitherto offered an
unresisted temptation? Must she act at every moment of her life with
the sense that God's eye was upon her? Did real faith require all this?
But what weighed most of all on poor Norah was the idea of Sophy Puller
and her stolen meals at the house. Norah was a lively young girl,
exceedingly fond of mirth, and though she loved her good old mistress,
the idea of having no society more gay than that of the invalid lady
seemed to Norah as dreary as that of a life in prison. Sophy's gossip,
Sophy's books, Sophy's friendship, had been the great delight of an
existence which, without them, so Norah believed, she would find
insupportably dull.
"It will be dreadfully difficult to know what to say to Sophy," was
Norah's reflection, as when going at noon to make some little purchase
for her lady, she turned the subject over in her mind for at least the
twentieth time. "She has not talked with my uncle, and I shall never be
able to make her understand what he thinks, she will consider it all so
absurd! I almost hope that dear Sophy will not come to see me to-day,
above all that she may not come at tea-time! I could hardly bear to let
her see that I think it wrong to entertain her at my lady's expense!
She would laugh at my scruples—or else she would be so hurt and angry!
Oh! It would grieve me to vex or offend her. To lose Sophy for a friend
would be a dreadful trial indeed! It would be more than I could endure!"
As Norah pursued her way, with her brow knit with anxious thought,
as if the cares of a nation were upon her, she chanced to pass a
haberdasher's shop which had always for her great attraction, as one of
her besetting weaknesses was a love of dress, which weakness had been
greatly fostered by her intercourse with Sophy. Instinctively Norah
paused before the large plate-glass window, and looked at the tempting
array of fashionable dresses set out with prices affixed.
"What—that black silk robe with flounces and jacket complete for only
two guineas! If ever I saw such a bargain!" exclaimed Norah, whose
great ambition was to possess such a Sunday dress, as Sophy had told
her that black silk was the most genteel thing in the world, and made
a girl look just like a real lady at once! "But two whole guineas!"
reflected Norah. "Whenever shall I get that to spend on a gown, when I
can hardly afford even this coloured print that I wear!"
A carriage drew up at the door, and an elegantly-dressed lady descended
and entered the shop.
"There goes one who can spend guineas upon guineas, and buy everything
pretty and new, without any trouble, and without feeling that she is
doing anything wrong. How happy she must be in that lovely bonnet and
feathers, and satin mantle trimmed with such beautiful lace!"
So thought the poor silly child, who had little idea of any troubles of
a different kind from her own.
"I'm sure," and Norah breathed a sigh of discontent, "I'm sure that the
poor have much harder trials to bear than the rich, they need much more
self-denial, their cross is much harder to bear!"
Norah turned away from the shop with a feeling of bitter envy, to which
covetousness had given rise. Against such strokes of the enemy, her
newly-tried breastplate was not proof.
The next shop passed by Norah was of very different appearance from the
last, but offered temptations of its own.
"A mangle—and to be had for five pounds! That is just what mother is
always wanting! Oh! How I wish that I had money to buy it! I wonder
why things are made so uneven in the world, why some have thousands of
pounds to throw away on their pleasures, while others have a life-long
struggle to earn their daily bread!"
Norah returned to the house out of spirits, because, though she hardly
knew it, a mistrust of the love of her Heavenly Father had crept like a
shadow over her heart. She felt more than ever, how dreadfully hard it
would be to risk offending Sophy, and that to follow the Lord fully is
no light and easy thing.
CHAPTER V.
PROVING THE ARMOUR.
"WELL, Norah my darling, I've just slipped in for five minutes to
see you, I can't stop long, but just pour me out a cup like a dear,
I'm half grilled in this dreadful hot weather!" And the milliner's
girl threw herself on a chair, and began fanning herself with her
pocket-handkerchief.
For the first time Norah was sorry to see her friend, and especially to
see her at tea. Though Norah had been so often during the day thinking
over what course she should take, and what words she should say, yet
the sudden appearance of Sophy Puller seemed to take her by surprise.
"Quick, cut me a slice, for I must soon be off; plenty of butter you
know; I thought that you promised me that this time I should taste the
old lady's tartlets. Why, is anything the matter?" cried Sophy, who
perceived a peculiar hesitation and confusion in the manner of Norah.
"You know, dear, that I went home yesterday and saw my sailor uncle—the
uncle who has lost his arm."
"Ah! Yes, if I'd only time, I should like to hear all about him," said
Sophy, "but I've come on a little bit of business, and I thought it was
best to drop in at tea-time; I knew that my darling would always make
me welcome!" Here followed a caress, which made poor Norah feel more
embarrassed than ever.
"My uncle said—my uncle thought—he heard about your coming, and he told
me—" Every word of her studied explanation seemed to have escaped from
Norah's mind; she stammered, and turned very red; Sophy looked at her
in surprise.
"What on earth do you mean?" she enquired.
Norah's hand was upon the loaf, and she unconsciously squeezed it so
tightly as to leave the mark of the pressure upon it.
"My uncle thought that I should tell my mistress when I have a friend
at meals," stammered forth Norah, wondering at her own courage when the
sentence was uttered.
"That old Mrs. Martin may be sure to have hot muffins ready for her!"
cried Sophy, bursting into a merry laugh. Her mirth disconcerted her
friend as much as her anger might have done.
"Uncle Ned doesn't think it—quite right," said Norah, looking down,
"that I should entertain any guest at my lady's expense, and without
her knowledge."
"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Sophy Puller. "I think that uncle of
yours must have lost his head as well as his arm, or he would not be
putting such rubbish into your silly little mind!" And catching up the
knife, and taking the loaf from Norah, Sophy began to make up for lost
time by helping herself in good earnest.
"But—" began Norah, timidly.
The milliner's girl cut her short.
"Now, don't be talking any more such stuff, Norah dear; you're not
such a baby as to mind silly cant! I'll tell you what I've come here
for to-day." Sophy went on talking as fast as a mouth full of bread
and butter would let her. "You're going to have a treat—such a treat!
There's an entertainment to-night in the Town Hall; you must have
seen the big bills about it stuck upon every wall—the famous juggler
is to perform, who helps a dozen people out of one bottle to a dozen
different wines, and puts an extinguisher upon his wife, and makes her
vanish into air, and who does a thousand other things more wonderful
even than these! Now, you and I, my darling, are going to see him
to-night."
"I cannot—I cannot indeed," said Norah, who nevertheless greatly
desired to go.
"But I've got a ticket for you!" cried Sophy, pulling it out of her
pocket, as if the sight of the bit of blue pasteboard must set all
scruples at rest. "Mr. Green, he's the manager you know, he's a friend
of my father. 'Peter Puller,' says he, 'shall have as many tickets as
he likes half-price.' Oh! you must come indeed, Norah, darling! The
lads I told you of, and Bell and her brothers, are all to be of the
party! 'Twill be the rarest fun in the world!" Sophy took hold of the
teapot, and helped herself to the tea.
"I should like it of all things," sighed Norah, "but I am sure that I
would not get my mistress's leave."
"Then you'll go without it, to be sure—just hand me the sugar, my
dear—nothing can be more easily managed. I just tap at the door at ten
minutes to nine; the door is left on the latch."
"But mistress bids me lock it, and put up the chain for the night for
fear of robbers," said Norah.
"You can do all that when you come home; you'll be back by eleven,
you know; as for robbers and all that rubbish, only old women who are
timid as mice ever dream of such things. Now, you must not look so
grave, dear Norah. I've set my heart on your going, indeed I'll take no
denial, when I've got the ticket and all. I'd never forgive you, never,
if you disappointed me now."
It is needless to repeat all the arguments used by an unprincipled girl
to persuade poor Norah to consent to do what her conscience condemned.
Sophy never paused to consider that she was acting as Satan's servant,
and doing the devil's work, in tempting her young simple friend from
the straight narrow path of duty. Perhaps Sophy actually believed that
she was showing kindness to Norah. Be that as it may, the milliner's
girl did not leave the house till she had wrung from the weakness of
her friend a half-consent to be ready to go with her that night.
Alas for poor human resolution! The first strong shaft of temptation
had pierced it through and through.
Had the sailor's words, then, gone for nothing? Had they effected no
change whatever? Yes, one important point had been gained. Norah could
no longer do wrong with an easy conscience; her eyes had been opened
to the danger and guilt of what she had deemed little sins. Norah knew
that not one could be harboured and indulged, save at the peril of her
soul. She felt that the religion which does not purify the life is not
true religion at all.
Norah's mind was so restless and uneasy as she sat down to her work,
that even the prospect of the amusement before her, gave as much pain
as pleasure. She dared not think of her uncle, far less of those truths
which she had heard from his lips.
When we yield to one temptation we have less power to resist another.
Waters entering through the narrowest breach soon make for themselves a
wider way. Norah sought relief from uneasy reflection in the very thing
which she had so lately given up as wrong.
"I can't go on with this tiresome darning," exclaimed the young
servant, flinging a bundle of stockings aside. "I must just have a
glance at that book; I must just see if that wretched woman was hanged
for murder after all."
So, neglecting her duty, misusing her time, trying to silence her
conscience, Norah plunged into the midst of a novel but too well suited
to inflame her imagination and corrupt her mind. She was so deep in the
interest of the story, that she started with impatient annoyance at the
sound of the bell which summoned her up to the drawing-room, to read to
her mistress as usual.
CHAPTER VI.
HELP IN NEED.
WELL was it for Norah Peele that a quiet time for thinking was thus
forced upon her, unwilling as she felt at the moment to lay down her
tempting novel, and obey her mistress's summons.
When Norah entered the peaceful room, where the soft light of the
shaded lamp fell on Mrs. Martin's placid voice and silvery hair, as she
sat with her hands clasped, and a look of much patience in her almost
sightless eyes, Norah felt as if she had quitted a glaring theatre, and
come into a house of prayer. There was before her one who had long worn
the breastplate of righteousness, and fought the good fight of faith,
and who would soon receive the victor's crown from Him whom she loved
and obeyed.
Norah took up the book which she was accustomed to read, but so
pre-occupied was her mind with its own perplexing thoughts, that she
began at the first chapter at which she chanced to open the volume,
without paying attention to a marker left in the proper place.
"Surely we have heard that before," said Mrs. Martin.
Norah had not attended to one word of what she had been reading.
The girl was ashamed of her mistake, and at once set it right, but
it was soon followed by another. Norah turned over two pages at once
and read on, quite unconscious that her blunder rendered a sentence
absolute nonsense.
Again Mrs. Martin recalled her to herself in a patient, gentle way; but
Norah still read in so dull and lifeless a manner, that it could be no
pleasure to hear her.
"You may shut the book, Norah," said the lady; "perhaps yesterday's
long walk has tired you; I will only have my evening chapter from the
Bible; there is no reading like that."
Norah took up the blessed volume, and now her attention wandered no
more. The chapter read was the 22d of St Luke. Conscious of her own
backsliding, of the weakness which she had shown, of the evil intention
which she had harboured after all her good resolutions, every verse
which she read from the Bible seemed to Norah to convey a reproach.
At last, when she came to Peter's assurance that he would fellow his
Master to prison and to death, and the mournful warning which followed,
Norah's voice failed her, and she paused for a minute to recover her
own self-command.
"I am always thankful," said Mrs. Martin, "that St Peter's fall has
been recorded in Scripture: it puts us on our guard against our own
weakness; it shows us that even faith and love like his were not enough
to guard him from sin in the hour of temptation."
"Then what can guard?" faltered Norah.
"The grace of God's Holy Spirit, which we must seek for by prayer.
It was that grace which made Peter, who had thrice denied his Lord,
afterwards boldly confess Him in the presence of Caiaphas himself! It
was that grace that made Peter, who had been terrified at the words
of a woman, afterwards nobly endure the terrible death of the cross!
Without God's grace we can do nothing, with it we can do all things;
His strength is made perfect in our weakness. Our daily prayer should
be, 'Lord, give me thy Holy Spirit!' remembering the gracious promise,
'Ask, and it shall be given you.'" *
* Matt. vii. 7.
Norah read on to the end of the chapter in a low soft tone, and with
a spirit humbled and subdued. Once again her voice failed her; it was
at the words, the Lord turned and looked upon Peter! She thought what
that look of love and pity must have been, how it must have thrilled to
the heart of the backsliding disciple! And did not He who had watched
the apostle, still mark the wanderings of His feeblest lamb; was He not
still ready thus to guide by his eye the erring one who longed once
more to return to the straight path of duty?
As soon as Norah's invalid mistress had retired to her early rest,
Norah went to her own little room, not to prepare, as she had intended,
to go out at night with her worthless companion, leaving the house
exposed to robbers, and an aged lady in danger, if taken with sudden
illness, of finding herself deserted, but to fall on her knees and ask
forgiveness for the sinful purpose of her heart.
Norah could not have put her prayer into words, but her soul's pleading
was something like this—
"Oh, Lord! Help me! Oh, Lord forgive me! I am a poor, foolish, sinful
girl! The evil I would not, I do, and I leave my duties undone! Oh,
give me Thy Holy Spirit; give me the breastplate of righteousness,
strong and firm against every temptation, that I may know Thy will, and
do Thy will, and follow my Saviour all my life, and be happy with Him
for ever!"
A few minutes before the church-clock struck nine, a shadow fell on the
pavement in front of Mrs. Martin's dwelling, and there was the sound of
a low rap, as of a stealthy hand on the panel of the door, followed by
an eager whisper, "Quick, Norah, quick, we are late."
The door unclosed but a few inches, the chain prevented its opening
wider. Young Norah stood behind it, the glare of the street lamp showed
her pale, agitated face.
"Oh, Sophy, don't be angry; I may not—must not come. I have written my
reasons on the paper in which this book is wrapped up, take it, and oh,
forgive me."
Norah drew back as if afraid of trusting herself to say more.
Sophy, disappointed and angry, had snatched the novel out of Norah's
hand.
"I'll never believe, nor trust, nor speak to you again," she exclaimed,
turning away with a burst of petty resentment.
Perhaps Sophy hoped to hear Norah's voice entreating her to return; she
only heard the rattle of the chain, and the sound of the closing door.
Something firmer than panel, and stronger than iron or steel, had been
now raised to be a barrier between Norah Peele and her false friend.
CHAPTER VII.
ANOTHER TRIUMPH.
How different is the importance given on earth and in Heaven to the
same events! The famous speech, the brilliant entertainment, the
political crisis, which fill columns of "The Times," and are the talk
of eager thousands from one end of Britain to another, may seem as much
beneath the notice of angels as bubbles floating on a stream; while
the bright inhabitants of Heaven may hover over some humble mansion,
to watch the struggle between right and wrong in one as lowly as the
little servant-maid Norah.
No passer-by would have given a second thought to the girl on her
knees, cleaning Mrs. Martin's doorstep in the early morning, yet that
poor simple servant had fought a battle, and won a victory, on which
angels might look with interest, for the result of such triumphs will
last when earth itself shall have passed away.
As Norah went on with her humble occupation, lifting up her heart
as she did so in a silent hymn of thanksgiving, her attention was
attracted by a small object that lay on the road close to the pavement.
Norah rose, and, going to the spot, picked up a small canvas bag,
which had probably been dropped there since the previous evening.
Norah loosened the string, and opened the bag, to see what might be in
it, but she almost dropped it again in her surprise at sight of its
glittering contents.
"Sovereigns! All bright, new, golden sovereigns!" exclaimed the
astonished Norah.
She hastened into the house, shut the door, dropped on her knees, and
emptied the bag into her lap, that she might count over the treasure
without fear of being either disturbed or noticed.
"Two, four, six, eight! I had never so much money before in my life!
Oh!" cried Norah, clapping her hands, "I shall now be able to buy both
the black silk dress and the mangle, and something for Sophy besides,
to make her forget last night, for I could not bear that there should
be any bitter feeling between us!"
It was not unnatural that such should be the first thoughts that should
rise to the mind of Bessy Peele's daughter. It must be remembered that
Norah had not been brought up with strict ideas of honesty, that it was
but lately that she had put on the breastplate of righteousness, or
even desired to have that "holiness, without which no man shall see the
Lord." * But the young Christian had only swerved from her course for a
minute, conscience was still at the helm.
* Hebrews xii. 14.
"What am I thinking of!" cried Norah, still on her knees, with the
bright coin lying on her lap. "This money is not my own, I cannot
honestly spend it. If I have found it, some one else must have lost it;
I must give it back to its owner!"
An expression of disappointment came over the young girl's face, but it
was almost instantly chased away by a look like sunshine.
"Oh! Here is another opportunity given me of showing my love to my
Lord, of proving that my faith is real; that I am not hanging out false
colours! Is it not an honour and a joy to do, or to give up anything to
please my Heavenly Master?"
Norah caught up the coins, and hastily thrust them all back into the
bag, counting them as she did so. She would not trust herself to look
again at the glittering gold, she would not trust herself even to think
what Mrs. Peele or Sophy would say if they knew that she now held so
large a sum in her hands. Norah felt impatient for the time when Mrs.
Martin would come down from her room, that she might give over the
tempting bag into the charge of the lady, and ask her what would be
the best way of finding out its owner. Norah could think of nothing
else as she filled the kettle, spread the table, and made the toast for
breakfast. She felt as if in possession of a very great secret, which
she longed to disclose to her mistress.
"You must have received some good news, Norah," was Mrs. Martin's
remark, as she first met the beaming glance of her little servant.
"Oh, ma'am! Only see what I've found this morning on the road, not ten
yards from the door, eight new sovereigns, all in this bag!"
And Norah, with some excitement, placed the bag in the hand of her
mistress.
"And what will you do with this?" asked the old lady.
"Oh, ma'am! You know it's not mine, I thought you would kindly help me
to find out who has lost it."
"Norah, you're the most honest girl that ever I met with!" burst
involuntarily from the lips of her mistress.
Mrs. Martin had unintentionally touched a painful chord; Norah's
awakened conscience started back from unmerited praise.
"Oh, no, ma'am! Don't say that!" cried the girl, surprised into a
sudden confession, "I've not been faithful to you as I should; I've
taken little things; I've had a guest at my meals, but I mean never to
do so more; I hope that you will forgive me!"
"Norah, I thank God for you!" said the old lady, tears rising into her
eyes as she spoke.
How warm went her words to the heart of Norah, no praise could have
been so sweet!
Norah had unwittingly removed a weight from the mind of her gentle
mistress. Mrs. Martin had had painful suspicions, which she had vainly
tried to put away, as to the strict honesty of her young maid. She
had often asked herself whether it might not be her duty to speak
seriously to Norah on the subject, but had put off doing so from day
to day, partly because the duty was painful to her tender sensitive
spirit, partly because she tried to persuade herself that her dim sight
and failing memory might have led her into error, and she would not
distress her maid till she had clearer proof of her guilt.
Norah's honesty about the money had for the moment entirely swept
away all her lady's suspicions, and caused her to utter what a little
consideration might have made her retract; but Norah's frank confession
entirely relieved Mrs. Martin's mind. That confession showed regret for
the past, which was in itself an earnest of a future life of fidelity
and truth. The lady felt that henceforth Norah would be more to her
than a servant, one who would be her comfort, one whom she could trust,
whom she could love.
Nothing more, however, was said by either mistress or maid on the
subject. After a brief silence, Mrs. Martin recurred to that of the
money.
"Norah, you know that I expect my brother, Mr. Lowndes, to breakfast
here to-day," she observed. "We will give the bag over to him. He is a
magistrate, as you are aware, and will be the best person to advise us
how to find out the real owner."
As the lady spoke, the well-known sound of her brother's double-rap at
the knocker announced his arrival.
Norah, light of foot, and light of heart, ran to the door to answer the
summons, and Mr. Lowndes, a tall portly man, soon made his appearance
in the room.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CANVAS BAG.
THE magistrate, after greeting his sister, sat down, and wiped his
heated brow with a large silk handkerchief. There was a look of
satisfaction upon his sensible, intelligent face.
"The police have had a busy night of it," said Mr. Lowndes. "The fellow
very nearly got off: but he's been arrested at last, and there's little
doubt but that the charge will be brought home to him now."
"What charge—of what do you speak?" asked Mrs. Martin.
"Why of a charge against a scamp called Peter Puller," (Norah could
not help starting at the name,) "who is one of a gang of unprincipled
fellows who have been trying in different parts of the country to pass
a quantity of base coin. We'd information sent down from London—a
detective arrived last night, we've had a hunt—which has proved
successful. It was quite time for the police to be on the alert, a
great deal of mischief has been done already, for the false money is so
close an imitation of the good, that the simple folk about here have
taken it pretty freely. I saw a poor widow yesterday, who was in bitter
distress, finding that the sovereign for which she had sold her pig,
was worth no more than a brass farthing."
"What heartless fraud!" exclaimed Mrs. Martin.
"This fellow—this Peter Puller, had some of the false coin on his
person when he was caught," continued Mr. Lowndes, "but we have reason
to think that we have not found all. Doubtless he would try to get rid
of it when he discovered that the police were close on his track."
Mrs. Martin raised her hand to her forehead, as if an idea had struck
her.
"Norah, my maid, picked up a canvas bag this morning," she said, "with
eight sovereigns in it; she gave it to me to take charge of till we
could find to whom it belonged."
"Let's see it by all means," said Mr. Lowndes, taking his spectacles
and placing them on his nose.
Mrs. Martin took the bag out of her pocket, and handed it to her
brother, who shook out the bright pieces on the table, took up each,
one by one, looked at it closely through his glasses, poised it on his
finger to feel the weight, then flung it down to try if it would ring.
After each trial, he shook his head gravely; while Mrs. Martin, and
Norah, who was waiting at the table, watched with interest to see the
result.
"Worthless, every one of them!" cried Mr. Lowndes, first replacing
the coins in their bag, and then the spectacles in their case. "It is
well for your little maid there that she did not attempt to pass them,
unless she could easily prove that she had nothing to do with Puller or
any of his set."
Norah felt like a rider who has suddenly reined up on the brink of a
dangerous precipice, and who looks down, shuddering but thankful, on
the deep chasm into which he so nearly had fallen!
The idea of being even for a moment suspected of uttering base coin, of
being a party to a wicked fraud, and the knowledge that she had often
received secret visits from the criminal's daughter, made her draw in
her breath with a gasp! What if it could have been proved that Norah
had gone out on the previous night in company with Sophy Puller and her
party, and had been found in the morning attempting to buy goods with
false coin! Everything would have come out at Puller's trial, and even
if Norah had escaped a jail, her character would have been lost. All
this shame, terror, and misery had been escaped by her simply keeping
in the course of duty, and denying self to follow the Lord.
Norah was about to leave the room, when the magistrate called her back.
"Stay here a moment, my good girl," he said, laying his broad hand
on the canvas bag which was on the table beside him. "Your conduct
appears to have been most praiseworthy in this affair. It is not every
young servant who, having found, as she thought, eight sovereigns,
would have carried them at once to her mistress. You've earned a good
character, Norah, and I make no doubt that you'll keep it, and find
through life that honesty is the best policy in all things."
Then in a less serious tone Mr. Lowndes went on. "I'm giving a fête
to-day in my ground to all our school children here, in honour of my
little girl's birthday. We're to have the grand conjurer to show his
tricks, then a feast, and fireworks to close the entertainment; could
you spare me this little maid?" continued the magistrate, turning
towards his sister. "I should like to show the children one who has set
them so good an example of honesty and uprightness."
"I will spare Norah with pleasure," said the kind old lady, "and make
the same arrangement with my char-woman as I did upon Monday. Most glad
am I that Norah should have this innocent amusement; I am certain that
she will enjoy it, for she will feel that she has deserved it!"
Norah curtsied, blushed, and went out of the room in the quiet manner
which became a young servant, then went bounding down stairs to the
kitchen to make her needful preparations. Norah was full of delight;
she knew that she had her lady's free forgiveness for all the past, and
her confidence for the future, and but one cloud rested on the sunny
sky above Norah—the thought of the shame and trouble in which her late
companion must be involved by the sad disgrace of a father.
"Ah! Poor Sophy! She has had no one to show her the straight right way,
no one to speak to her faithfully as my sailor uncle spoke to me! She
has not heard of the daily battle to fight, the daily cross to take
up; she has not been taught that we are never, never so happy as when
we heartily try, by the help of God's grace, to obey His will in all
things!"
So thought Norah Peele then, and through the course of a useful, happy,
and honourable life, she never found cause to change her opinion.
There is a beautiful verse in the Bible which describes in few words
the future glory of those who 'love the Lord' and therefore 'hate
evil.' * It is this—'Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for
the upright in heart.' †
* Psalm xcvii. 10. † Psalm xcvii. 11.
The first fruits spring up even here; to the faithful and true is given
the command, 'Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice!' *
* Phil. iv. 4.
But who can tell what the full harvest of light and bliss will be in
the world to come, when the Redeemer shall say to His own: 'Well done,
good and faithful servant; thou halt been faithful over a few things, I
will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy
Lord!' *
* Matt. xxv. 23.
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