The doctoring of the scalded feet, the picking up of the broken fragments of china, did divert attention from the subject of poor Walter. Betsy made many excuses for awkwardness—she who was never awkward; Deborah ran for cotton-wool to put over the scald; the visitor presently departed limping (her house was but two doors off), and the Demsters had kept their terrible secret.
“Deborah, we can’t stand this kind of thing!” exclaimed Betsy, as soon as the outer door was shut. “Manly’s fall will be the talk of all Dover, and I can’t break cups and saucers every time that an uncomfortable question is asked. We’ll be off to London by the stagecoach to-morrow.”
And off the Demsters did go, though at great inconvenience. They could ill afford the serious expense, and a journey in February gave severe colds to both the sisters. They did not return till the nine days’ wonder was over; and a coroner’s inquest having been held on the body of Walter, a verdict had been given—“Accidental death by a fall from a cliff.”
It is a true saying that a little sin troubles more than a great deal of sorrow, and its truth was proved by theamiable ladies in Paradise Square. The quiet, even tenor of their lives was destroyed; they felt almost like hypocrites when they taught Sunday scholars to be straightforward and truthful; they took no pleasure in going to church; they were half afraid to partake of Holy Communion.
“And yet what would every one say if we turned away?” cried Betsy.
“Oh, how wretched we should feel!” sighed Deborah. “Oh that we had had the courage to do what was right! And yet I am afraid, should all happen over again, that I should never dare to give evidence that might cause a man to be hanged.”
A thorn in the flesh often brings a man nearer to God; a thorn in the conscience severs from communion with God. The former may be endured with patience; the latter must be drawn out, or the wound rankles and festers.
The reader will now understand the emotion with which the Misses Demster read of Oscar Coldstream’s confession.
“That poor sinner has some good in him,” observed the elder—“he has had the courage to speak the whole truth. Perhaps he acted under great provocation, and repented of the deed as soon as it was done.”
“He has done all he can to redeem the past,” said Deborah, wiping her eyes. “I wonder what will bedone with the poor gentleman. They will hardly hang him for telling the truth.”