MR. CURTIS looked unusually thoughtful and grave as he walked up the schoolroom. The boys missed the kindly smile and familiar nod, and the inquiries after sick relatives, which were wont to make his greeting resemble that of a father. All felt that the vicar had something on his mind, as he stood behind the reading-desk, with the sunset glow on his bald head, looking down on the throng of boys clustering in the closely-filled benches.
Instead of going on with the history of St Paul, which he had been explaining in a course of lectures, the vicar turned to the fifth chapter of Acts. Before beginning to read, with his hand on the open Bible, Mr. Curtis said a few words to the boys, who listened in the deep silence of expectation.
"You see me anxious and disturbed—I am so. You all know, I doubt not, what has happened in our village to-day. A sailor who, after serving his country through hardships and dangers, had come here but yesterday to enjoy rest and peace in a cottage-home, has been sent to the lock-up, accused of an offence, which I believe from my soul that he never committed."
Mr. Curtis paused, and the silence was so profound in the room, that the murmur of a little neighbouring brook was distinctly heard.
"My belief of his innocence," continued the vicar, "is chiefly founded on his character for truth. I believe Franks to be incapable of the meanness and sin of telling a lie. But if the sailor be innocent, some one else must be guilty, and I have chosen the history of Ananias and Sapphira for our reading this evening, that we may all learn from it how Almighty God sees, knows, and can bring to light these things that we believe to be hidden for ever from the eyes of all men."
Mr. Curtis then went on to read aloud the awful story recorded in the Word of God, of the man and woman whose characters had stood fair before the world, who had been counted amongst the flock of faithful Christians, but who had been struck down dead, with falsehood upon their tongues! Fearful warning to all who think lightly of the guilt of untruth!
Mr. Curtis closed the Bible. "Such a history as that which I have just read," he remarked, "needs no comment of mine. We see in it written, as with letters of fire, what falsehood is in the sight of the Lord! Now, to return to the subject on which I was speaking, I wish all here to know that a clue, though a slight one, has been discovered as to the real author of the mischief done. The footprint of a boy has been left on the sod!"
A thrill at the words ran through the assembly; the scholars looked one at another, and then fixed their eager eyes on the speaker, gazing open-mouthed, as if they expected that the next moment his finger would be stretched forth to point out the offender.
"A boy!" repeated the vicar, emphatically. "Perhaps one of these now before me! A fac-simile of the footprint has been carefully taken on paper, and I intend tomorrow to compare it with the boots of each one here present, unless—as I hope and trust—he who broke the glass will earn the respect and confidence of all who know him by frankly, honestly, nobly, confessing the truth at once."
Again there was that kind of electric thrill through the throng, again the boys turned inquiring looks one upon another.