Mattie:—A Stray (Vol 3 of 3)
table stool, on which he could have remained perched more at his ease had a balance-pole been provided. Here he had remained, looking round the shop, and taki
ousin, but was disappointed by the presence of a small and agile man in black, who
" said Maurice. "Mr
efore, sir-my
I do not
d Mr. Gray. "I am connected with one. You and I met on the platform of the Ashford railway station,
O
Sidney came upon the scene?-from whom else was he to hear a sharp criticism on those ac
ou a little counsel for your future course in life-a warning as to wh
s-I rem
not. Have you not rather proceeded on your evil course, despising the preaching of good men, the warning of God's word, a
e Hinchford's nerves somewhat, and causing innumerable articles
egan M
us out, and fearing not the evidence of our displeasure, and now, sir, you must hear what is wrong in yo
kno
s bad; you have studied yourself in every action of life, and neglected the common duties due to your neighbour as well as to your Maker. You have gone on smiling in your sinful course, heeding not the outcry of religious men against your hideous career, recking not of the abyss into which you must plunge, and on the brink of which, you-a man, with an immortal soul committe
allow me-"
I insist upon a patient hearing. You are a man in danger of destruction, and I cannot let you go blindfold into danger, with
of his dangerous state. He put his hands on his knees, surveyed the speaker, and submitted; in all his life he had never heard such a bad opinion of himself, or listened to so sweeping a condemnation of all his little infirmities. Mr. Gray ran on with great volubility, pitching his voice unpleasantly high; Maurice's blood curdled, once he was sure his hair rose upon his head, and more than once cold water running down the curve of his bac
hread of the discourse, and found the heads thereof inextricably confused; he understood that he was a miserable sinner-the worst of sinners-or he should not be sitting there with all those horrible noises in his ears; the figure in the chair before him, heave
eeble effort
cle," he burst forth; and again that terrible "Sir, I will not be int
ed for many years!-and he did not think of stopping yet awhile. Where was the hurry?-time, although valuable, could n
rmon for some time over the parlour blind, informing Sidney, who had entered th
n from a smile at Maurice's unenviable position. He remembered Mr. Gray's first charge upon his sins, and the unsparing length to which he had extended his
to him now, Sid
tie-as between brother and
dmire the intrusion
o regarded matters akin to this more seriou
n for the first time; but now the thought occurred to him that he would rather face the very worst-even that o
his head-he was just coming down with another bang on the counter-and Maurice leaped off his s
see me, M
f you w
nk you! Is he
es
t one, now. You have been warned of all the evils which a g
f it-I'm afraid I have put you to a great deal of troub
use, I don't
ur, you said, Miss Gray?-then I'll go to
Maurice, when Mattie touched him o
ave them together. Their
left for me to work his regeneration at the last, how proud I shall be! Mattie, I think I have moved him-he has already said something about building a tabernacle, a chapel, or some
or behind him, and advanced towards the figure at the table, sitting in t
n the dark waving hair; and the eyes, which blindness had not dimmed, had that
ey-I am her
you have taken th
eed!
apart. We know each other
with me, Sidney
garded as a man who had done a grievous wrong, and from whom no professions of friendship or cousinly regard would be received. He had come with a faint hope of doing g
ccepted that invitation to meet me which
would have been satisfac
atching at the words which implied possibly
ed. "If you will tell me candidly and honestly that you are s
me no mali
ve outli
you
hose good friends who have taken pity
s, evil counsellors, if you will-mine was never a resolute nature, but one easily led away from the first. I was an only son, spoiled by an indu
ad enough,
ends, cheered on that downfall, and made it easy to me-scoffing at all worlds purer than their own. I wa
hear the story," s
ney, suppressing his intention to arrest the narrative, sat stil
, concerning it, till she might have belonged to dream-land for the realities about her. She was led away by a senior schol
eny
her. I don't say that it was a very true or passionate love; but it was a love, which burned fiercely enough for a time-which would have b
met at yo
d, I was almost adding, for he worked me mu
o
hom my folly had lured me. I was to go abroad at my father's wish, and I left, fully resolving to write to her, and own all, and ask her if she would wait for me. Then came long absence, fresh scenes, new friends, new dissipations, a belief that sh
N
presence at first. Still I was from the old days; I revived in her memory the one romance that had been hers-I had not played a false part therein, and could easily excuse my long silence. I found out the friends whom she visited in the neighbourhood of New Cross; I forme
rote to me at that time, confessing her i
bed in thought concerning us-she was often cold and repellent to me, and it
your false
Ashford. As I hope to be saved, I had no design against her then; in good faith, I was her escort to the railway station; it was only as we approached that station, that the ruse suggested itself-that the devil whispered in my ear his temptation. I knew the time of the mail-train; I had been by it en route to Paris only a few weeks sinc
spell of
ave who had sought to cruelly deceive her. She claimed the protection of that-that terrible man in the shop there-he was at Ashford as you know-and I was glad to hide my head in the railway carriage, and be borne away from his withering contempt. That's the story. I will not tell you of
at your house-he
sake-and to redeem her character in the mind of a man
for a while. Then he
nly chance that has kept you from being wholly a bad man. You
lse has led me wrong when my heart has meant right-candidly, cousin, I have been a fool mor
ut what virtue i
of all my friends' professions; their greed of gain and love of self; have turned heart-sick at their evil-speaking, lying, and slande
, that leads to worse
it-I f
the harm that you have done us
my heart-t
s to be more charitable in my heart towards men's motives.
which Maurice took and
your help, and your presence, under any circumstances, will always give me p
who have heard me declaim again
to mourn over. Seek a wife, man, and settle down in your
he good things which I possess, and which she and her relations wil
" said Sidney, al
s for one or two true friends. You don
much life lately, and the reaction has rendered
el
Wesden again, an
t y
er last. She is leading a life that is unfit for her, and yo
never f
greater coward
Wesden again! Oh! I know how that will end, and wh
, after a moment's
er add
k it down in his pocket-bo
ouble you once again, Sid
if you think
his feet uneasily, keeping his
d at last, "if-if y
is possible for one i
re kind
y ki
couple-father an
ce; you do not know them, and canno
sharpness that one doesn't object to; but, oh! that
" said Sidne
to allude to-nothing about money, mind," he added hastily, noticing Sidney's
it?" aske
that the bad news, which was told me to-day for the first time, has shocked me ver
But I don't care to dwe
t medical advice have
t a
ice!-wh
would be irretrievable. I was warned of its approach by
akes in life," said Mauric
s the subjec
ulist in Paris-he was an
man has been trying hard to teach himself resignation
d-I am going at
d ni
dly manner than they had met; profuse civilities could do no good, and though Maurice had
there on the counter. Mr. Gray looked at him, as at a fine sub
going, yo
ot put you or your daught
above his ears, "no inconvenience. You are a stranger to this neighbou
well up in the way now-I could not think of taking you aw
flew for his life down the dark streets-no matter whither, or how
tation-the scene of his old duplicity-arranging for a