“Hath the world aught for me to fear
When death is on thy brow?
The world—what means it? mine is here,
I will not leave thee now.”
But the long hours spent daily by Io in her husband’s cell were by no means hours of unmitigated grief. Oscar’s calmness had an effect upon the spirit of his wife, naturally so buoyant and cheerful. It was a real pleasure to Io to sit beside her husband whilst he read aloud to her, for books were not denied him. Sometimes Io would write to Oscar’s dictation—a privilege which she highly prized. The prisoner found congenial occupation in composing short meditations on the fifty-first psalm. Each day brought its verse for prayerful reflection, and each verse seemed to contain exactly the spiritual food which the penitent’s spirit required. Deliverme from blood-guiltiness, O Lord! found a strong echo in the prisoner’s soul, while the broken and contrite heart drank in with thanksgiving the assurance that it was not despised even by a perfectly holy God. Io, by Oscar’s permission, sent these meditations to the press, and they were read with profit by many who little imagined that they had been penned in a prison.
Even hymns of praise, where two voices blended in humble thanksgiving, arose from Coldstream’s cell. Criminals confined near it listened and wondered, and the head jailer declared that he thought that God’s angels had begun to visit the prison. Oscar was no longer in darkness, though he was rather in twilight than in sunshine; not the evening twilight, resembling sweet memories of a happy day passed away, but rather the early twilight of hope, after a gloomy starless night, seen before the full glory bursts forth in the Eastern sky.
By her husband’s express desire, Io wrote a letter to Dr. Pinfold, thanking him for kindness shown in old days, and not containing any allusion to the offer made by him which had given so much pain to the wife. Io also wrote repeatedly to her brother. But neither her letters to Thud nor that addressed to Dr. Pinfold ever received a reply. The Coldstreams were uneasy about the youth whom they had left at Moulmein, and at length made inquiries regarding him from Smith, his employer. The reply received was unsatisfactory. Forsome weeks young Thorn had worked fairly well under constant supervision; but as soon as he had received his first month’s salary, Thud had thrown up his situation as one unworthy of his merits, and had started off for Rangoon. Here all trace of the lad was lost. Letters sent to Rangoon were returned by the dead-letter office; nothing was known of him to whom they had been addressed. Io was never to find out what had become of her brother. In the ensuing chapter, however, the reader will find information regarding the career of Thucydides Thorn.
CHAPTER XXVII.
ADVENTURES OF AN OWL.
No one had expressed more indignation at Coldstream’s crime than did Thud when the news of it reached him. The lad had never liked his brother-in-law, of whom he had stood in some awe. Oscar had never appreciated Thud’s wisdom, had sometimes rebuked him, and had actually compelled him to work! Thud revenged himself now by calling Coldstream a disgrace to the family, and declaring that he would never have intercourse either with him or his wife. Thud destroyed two kind letters which he received from Io, and scorned to send a reply. The manner in which the youth spoke of Coldstream roused the indignation of Smith, who was loyal to his old employer, and who called Thud to his face an ungrateful puppy. It is not to be wondered at that Master Thucydides Thorn soon quitted Moulmein.