“Yes, Walter,” he said, casting down his eyes.
“Well; next time either Harpour, or any one else, tries to make you do what’s wrong, remember they can’t make you, if you don’t choose; and say flatly ‘No!’ and stick to it in spite of everything, like a brave little man, will you?”
“I did say ‘No!’ at first, Walter; but they threatened to frighten me,” he said. “They knew I daren’t hold out.”
Yes; there was the secret of it all. Walter saw that they had played on this child’s natural terrors with such refinement of cruelty, that fear had become the master principle in his mind; they had only to touch that spring and he obeyed them mechanically like a puppet, and because of his very fear, was driven to do things that might well cause genuine fear, till he lived in such a region of increasing fear and dread, that Walter’s only surprise was that he had not been made an idiot already. Poor child! it was no wonder that he was becoming more stupid, cunning, untidy, and uninteresting, every day. And all this was going on under the very eyes of many thoroughly noble boys, and conscientious masters, and yet they never saw or noticed it, and looked on Eden as an idle and unprincipled little sloven. O our harsh human judgments! The Priest and the Levite still pass the wounded man, and the good Samaritans are rare on this world’s highways.
What was Walter to do? He did not know the very name of psychology, but he did know the unhinging, desolating power of an overmastering spirit of fear. He knew that fear hath torment, but he had no conception by what means that demon can be exorcised. Yet he thought, as he raised his eyes for one instant to heaven in silent supplication, that there were few devils who would not go out by prayer, and he made a strong resolve that he would use every endeavour to make up for his past neglectfulness, and to save this poor unhappy child.
“I’m not blaming you, Arthur,” he said, “but I like you, and don’t want to see you go wrong, and be a tool in bad boys’ hands. I hope you ask God to help you, Arthur?”
Eden looked at him, but said nothing. He had been taught but little, and by example he had been taught nothing of the Awful Far-off Friend Who is yet so near to every humble spirit, and Who even now had sent His angel to save this lamb who knew not of His fold.
“Listen to me, Arthur—ah! there I hear the third school-bell, and we must go in—but listen! I’ll be your friend; I want to be your friend. I’ll try and save you from all this persecution. Will you always trust me?”
Eden’s look of gratitude more than repaid him, and Walter added, “And, Arty, you must not give up your prayers. Ask God to help you, and to keep you from going wrong, and to make you brave. Won’t you, Arty?”
The little boy’s heart was full even to breaking with its weight of happy tears; it was too full to speak. He pressed Walter’s hand for one moment, and walked in by his side, without a word.