“But what reason, brother, have you to think he has gone off?” asked Mrs. Sackville.
Mr. Morris said there had a man just come over the road, of whom he had inquired if he had seen him:—he had not, but he was certain he should have observed him if he had been by the road side. Mr. Morris had despatched a servant on horseback in pursuit of him, and he begged Mrs. Barton to calm herself till his return.
The poor woman's agitation could not be allayed as easily as it had been excited:—she said nothing; but she became as pale as death, and trembled so excessively, that Mrs. Sackville took her child from her arms and laid it on a bed.
Mr. Morris's compassion once excited, was never stinted. “Bless you, woman,” he whispered to Mrs. Barton, “don't tremble so. If the little imp has really made off, your loss shall be made up to you. Come, cheer up—I have engaged a place for you and your children in a return carriage, and you will all be in Newark to-night, safe and snug.”
“God bless you, sir,” replied Mrs. Barton. “I am ashamed of myself; but my courage and strength seem quite spent.”
At this instant, Edward, who had gone out on the first notice of the boy's delinquency, returned, shouting, “He's coming, he's coming;” and directly the messenger made his appearance with the wallet unharmed, and followed by Tristram, who came doggedly on muttering, “that it was a poor reward for lugging the old woman's bundle to be hunted for a thief.”
“Stop your clamor, Tristy,” said Mr. Morris, “the devil shall have his due; there is a shilling for you, which is full as much as your character is worth.”
“I don't know as to that,” replied the boy, pocketing the shilling: “those that have much character can do as they please, but I have so little, that I set a high price on it.”
The carriage was now ready in which Mrs. Barton was to proceed, and her friends saw her depart cheered and comforted by their kindness, and themselves enriched by the opportunity they had improved of imitating our heavenly Benefactor by ‘raising the sinking heart, and strengthening the knees that were ready to fail.’
After our travellers were again on their way, Mr. Morris said he did not at all like Tristram's look, when he said Goody Barton would remember him the next time she felt the weight of her wallet. “The little rascal said too, that he had changed his mind, and was going back to the States—putting that and that together, I am afraid his evil fingers have been inside the poor woman's bundle.”