Trembling, and fearing he knew not what, but not daring to disobey, George did as he was told. Mr. Bradford followed, silently put beyond George's reach everything on which he might lay his hands, locked every drawer and closet, and then turned to leave the room.
George started forward. "What are you going to do?" he stammered.
"Leave you here till your father comes. I cannot deal with you, for, thank God, you are not my child."
"Oh, don't, don't!" said the wretched boy, falling on his knees. "Oh, I did not mean to—I was only looking—he will punish me so—I would not have taken—"
"Hush, hush," said Mr. Bradford, "and do not kneel to me. Do not add to your sin by trying to deny it, but think over what you have done; and when your poor father comes, be ready to make confession to him, and to the God against whom you have sinned."
"But don't tell father; he will be so angry; he minds such things so much. He—he never would forgive me."
"And yet the son of such a father could do this terrible thing? I grieve to tell him, George; rather, far rather, even for my own sake, would I pass over this in silence, and let you go unpunished; but it is a duty I owe to you, as well as to him, not to let you go on unchecked in sin. I see, too, poor boy, that it is the fear of punishment, not of distressing your kind father, which makes you so anxious that I should not tell him. You do not yet see your guilt, unhappy child; you only dread the pain and shame which it has brought upon yourself."
As Mr. Bradford ceased speaking, Mr. Moore's short, quick step was heard in the hall, and the next moment he rapped upon the door. Fred, going down-stairs, had met him coming in, and was asked where George was. He had answered, "Up-stairs;" but he had been so shocked and distressed by what he had seen that Mr. Moore had noticed his manner, and asked if anything were wrong with George. Fred would not say what the trouble was, but told Mr. Moore where he would find his son.
Mr. Bradford opened the door.
"Fred told me that George was here," said Mr. Moore, looking much disturbed. "What is wrong?" he asked, as he saw his son's guilty, miserable face.