But he had yet to learn that he carried the world in his heart, and that it was on this battlefield that he must war against its trinity of evil, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life." Robin began to think old Jonathan was over-conscientious in the discharge of duty, and over-strict about little faults.
Why had he spoken so sharply to him that very day about the watering of a few plants? "I did not mean to forget them," ought to have been a sufficient plea to justify him. Was forgetting a sin? A slip in the memory was surely to be excused. Why should Jonathan say the narrow path was thickly hedged with thorns, ready to prick on the right hand and on the left? It seemed such an easy thing to be a Christian!
What did old Jonathan mean by the east wind of sin coming to nip the early buds? Robin found the answer to his questions in a bitter and most painful experience.
[CHAPTER VI]
A TEMPTING BAIT
ONE morning, Robin entered the kitchen at Oaklands, carrying a basket of freshly-cut vegetables, which the cook stepped forward to take from his hand.
"Good-morning, Robin," quoth she; "you are a good boy, and never keep me waiting; your mother will find there are not many young men in the world like you."
The lad crimsoned to the roots of his hair, while a secret swell of pride inflated his heart, and echoed back the flattering words, as he thought over them with delight. Cook had called him a young man; no one had ever done this before! He felt several inches higher as he looked up and gave a bright smile by way of answer.
"Oh yes," added the cook, "you are just the sort of fellow that will always be a favourite. No one can deny that for a moment! I think there is a nice piece of cold apple-tart in the larder that will just suit you." And she disappeared to fetch it.
Now Robin was extremely fond of nice things, all the more so because he rarely got them. His good mother had always been too poor to provide many luxuries for her children. It was only by hard shift and toil that the wholesome loaf was placed before them. The baked joint, so temptingly surrounded by potatoes, which Robin fetched from the bakehouse every week, exciting often the envy of thoughtless neighbours, had to be eked out by dint of many a painful saving effort on the mother's part; and Robin could often have eaten a great deal more it there had been plenty on the table.