bade him run and show it to Clarice. Gabriel set out with shouts, and Emmins went back smiling to look after his boatload.
“He’s a good runner,” said Old Briton, watching the child with laughter in his eyes. Dame Briton, drawn to the door by the unusual noise, looked out to see the little fellow flying into Clarice's arms, and she said, softly, “Pretty creature!” while she strode back to her toil.
Presently, the little flutter of his joy having subsided, Gabriel sat on the doorstep beside Clarice, his eyes seriously peering into the undiscovcrable mystery of the toy. Then Bondo came up, and the toy was forgotten, the child darting away again to meet him. Emmins joined the group with Gabriel in his arms, looking well satisfied.
“Gabriel is as happy as if this was his home in earnest,” said he. He dropped the words to try the group.
“His home!” cried Dame Briton, quickly. “Well, a’n’t it? Where then? I wonder.
The sharp tone of her voice told that the dame was not well pleased with Hondo’s remark; for the child had found his way into her heart, and she would have ruined him by her indulgence, had it not been for Clarice’s constant vigilance. And this was not the least of the difficulties the girl had to contend with. For Dame Briton, you may be sure, though she might be compelled to yield to her daughter’s better sense, could never be constrained by her own child to hold her tongue, and the arguments with which she abandoned many of her foolish purposes were almost as fatal to Clarice’s attempts at good government as the perfect accomplishment of these purposes would have been.
Bondo answered her quick interrogatory, and the troubled wonder in the eyes of Clarice, with a confused, “Of course it is his home; only I was thinking, that, to be sure, they must have come from some place, and may-be left friends behind them.”
Now it seemed as if this answer were not given with malicious purpose, but in proper self-defence; and by the time Clarice looked at him, and made him thus speak, Bondo perhaps supposed that he had not intended to trouble the poor soul. But he could not avoid perceiving that a deep shadow fell upon the face of Clarice; and the conviction of her displeasure was not removed when site arose and led the child away. But Clarice was not displeased. She was only troubled sorely. She asked her surprised self a dreary question: If anywhere on earth the child had a living parent, or if he had any near of kin to whom his life was precious, what right to Gabriel had she? Providence had sent him to her, she had often said, with deep thankfulness; but now she asked, Had he sent the child that she might restore him not only to life, but to others, whom, but for her, death had forever robbed of him?
From the day that the shadow of this thought fell across her way, the composure and deep content of the life of Clarice were disturbed. Not merely the presence of Emmins became a trouble and annoyance, but the praise that her neighbors were prompt to lavish on Gabriel, whenever she went among them, became grievous to her ears. The shadow which had swept before her eyes deepened and darkened till it obscured all the future. She was experiencing all the trouble; and difficulty of one who seeks to evade the weight of a truth which has nevertheless surrounded and will inevitably capture her.
Nothing of this escaped the eyes of the young fisherman. Time should work for him, he said; he had shot an arrow; it had hit the mark; now lie. would heal the wound. He might easily have persuaded himself that the wound was accidental, and so have escaped the conviction of injury wrought with intention. All would have been immediately well with him and Clarice, had it not been for Clarice! There are persons, their name is Legion, who are as wanton in offence as Bondo Emmins, — whose souls are black with murderous records of hopes
