"In such case," continued the clergyman, "I shall do everything in my power to shield that boy from the punishment which his mischievous act has deserved, I shall use my influence to procure his full pardon from Sir Lacy. But even if he have something to bear, it will be more than made up to him by the satisfaction of feeling that, in confessing, he has done what is manly and right; that he has saved an innocent man from distress; that he himself has no sudden shameful disclosure to fear; that he has earned a character for honour, the respect of his comrades, the approval of conscience; and that he has put on that Girdle of Truth without which whatever he may call himself, or think himself, he can be a Christian only in name."
Mr. Curtis knelt down, and all the scholars followed his example. Very fervent was the vicar's prayer to God, that He might give to all present grace and courage ever to speak the truth, to conceal nothing that ought to be confessed, remembering that a great Day is coming when, before assembled myriads of angels and men, the most secret things shall be manifest, when we shall know even as we are known! There was some encouragement to the clergyman in the earnest "amen" from the boys, which followed his prayer.
"I hope that your words have made an impression, Henry," said Mrs. Curtis to her husband, as they sat together that night in the little study.
The vicar had been reading aloud to his wife, but the minds of both had wandered from the book.
"Why, we have no evidence beyond your little slip of paper, my love, and—" Mr. Curtis was interrupted by the sound of a timid ring at the door-bell: faint as it was, both the vicar and his wife instinctively turned to listen, and nothing was said by either till the maid opened the study-door with:
"The glazier's little boy says that he wishes to speak with you, sir."
Mrs. Curtis knew Stephen White to be one of the scholars, and her heart beat fast with expectation.
"Ask him to step in here," said the vicar.
A thin, sly, slouching boy soon stood at the entrance, and then, after being twice desired to come forward, moved one or two steps into the room. He hung his head, fumbled with the buttons of his jacket, and looked the picture of confusion and shyness.
"I am glad to see you here, Stephen," said Mr. Curtis, encouragingly; "speak out freely, and tell me what you have come for to-night."