"You need not go, if you don't want to, Christopher," said he, turning away. "I did think you thought everything of me, but I see you don't care anything about me. If you did, you would do what I want you to, but I know one thing,—I never will ask you to do anything for me again. I thought you would like to see the funeral, or I wouldn't have asked you. Now I suppose you will go and tell Miss Hilliard, and get me a whipping. I never thought you would use me so. Come, Christy," he added, changing his tone to a coaxing one, "I know you will do this for me. I never will forget it, and I will do as much and more for you."
There is no use in following the conversation farther. Osric gained his point, and Christopher promised to go with him to the funeral. It would not have been easy to tell exactly why he was so anxious to lead Christopher away with him, only people who do wrong are usually desirous to have others do wrong likewise. It makes them feel, somehow, a little less wicked. They think it forms some excuse for themselves to say that they are no worse than others.
Presently the bell rung.
"You go in, Christy," said Osric as they came near the school-house, and saw that every one had gone in but themselves. "I'm going to have a drink first."
[CHAPTER III.]
WHILE Osric and Christopher had been hatching their conspiracy, Elsie and Anna had been sitting with Alice Brown under the willow by the side of the river.
It was a beautiful place. The river ran sparkling along, and made a cheerful, pleasant murmur against its banks. Just above the dam it was still and glassy, and poured over the edge of the dam in a smooth, even sheet. It was just the same, winter or summer, for it was the outlet of quite a large lake ten or twelve miles away, and was not affected by the dry weather. Across the river was a green bank, and above that the steep hillside in which General Dent's vault was built. The vault was shaded by trees, and the grass grew close to the threshold. The sun was shining on it, and a robin was sitting singing on one of the carved pinnacles over the door, but still Elsie thought it looked dismal.
"I shouldn't like to be buried in a vault," said she, with a shiver. "I should rather be put in the ground, where the grass could grow over me, and the sun shine on my grave."
"I think I should feel as thee does," replied Alice Brown; "but, after all, dear, thee knows it does not make any great difference. When the trumpet shall sound and the dead be raised, it will not matter much whether we are received from a grass-covered grave, or a stone vault, or the waters of the sea. We shall all meet the Lord in the air, to be ever with him, and that is the great thing."
Alice Brown was the oldest girl in school—quite a grown-up young woman. All the girls looked up to her, and she was kind to them all, but she was especially fond of Elsie and Anna. They on their part loved Alice dearly, told her all their troubles, and went to her for help and advice on all occasions. When Elsie first began to hope that she really loved her Saviour, Alice was the first person who found out what she was thinking of, and she had been a great help to Elsie ever since, in directing her by precept and example in the right way.