The dark night

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

Christopher sprang to the door, determined to get out at all hazards. He opened the inner door easily enough, but the outer one resisted all his efforts. He shook it and called till he was perfectly exhausted, but no one heard him. The nearest person was a quarter of a mile away. He stopped and listened. He could hear the rushing of the water over the dam, the singing of the birds, and the distant sound of wheels. The mills were not running to-day, and there would be nobody at the saw-mill, which was the nearest building, but surely some one must hear him and come to take him out of that dreadful place, and once more he began to cry and to pound the door, but it was all of no use.

Spent and exhausted at last, he sat down on the ground in dumb despair and hid his face on his knees. When he looked up again the place was perceptibly darker. The sun had gone down behind the hill, and as the vault fronted the east, the place was in deep shadow. He heard strange twitterings, and every few minutes a noise like distant thunder. He sprang up once more, for he was afraid of thunder, and the thought of passing through a thunder-storm in that place was unbearable. He shook and beat the door, but in vain. And once more throwing himself on the floor, this time on his face, he cried aloud, calling alternately on Osric and on his mother to come to him. The tears relieved him. He cried himself into quietness, and at last he sat up, and wiping his eyes, he began to think what he had better do: but with all his thinking, he could come to no conclusion.

He could not get out by his own efforts, that was certain; unless somebody came after him, he had no better prospect than to stay there and starve. There were two or three chances for him.

One was that Osric would tell the story, when of course, he would be released very soon. As he considered the matter, he felt sure that Osric would not get back to the school-house before recess was over. Then, he would have to give an account of himself, and perhaps he would tell the truth. But then Osric was so afraid of being found fault with, and, besides that, he might not have known that Christopher was left in the vault. He might suppose him safe at home all the time. Nobody had seen the two boys, that Christopher knew of; and even when he was missed, nobody would think of looking for him there. They would think he had fallen into the river, or that he had started to go home through the woods and got lost, but they would never, never think of him sitting all alone in General Dent's burial-vault.

There was another hope, though not a very cheering one. Christopher considered that all the other coffins were placed in recesses in the wall, of which several still remained empty, while Miss Lilla's had been set on the floor. He looked round, and even now he could see a ray of light reflected from the silver cross on which the dead girl's name was engraved. Christopher did not think they could mean to leave it there. He thought it likely that somebody would come next day to place it in one of the recesses, or to dispose of it in some other way. If he could live till that time! But then, he remembered that very likely nothing would be done for several days. Perhaps they might wait till the marble slab was made ready with Miss Lilla's name and age on it, and how could he live for three or four days in that close air, and without anything to eat or drink?

Christopher's imagination had something to do with the closeness of the place, for it was, in reality, better ventilated than most cellars. It was cold and damp, however, and he was hungry and thirsty, and all alone, with no very probable chance of escape: there was no imagination in that.

All at once, Christopher remembered that he had two doughnuts in his pockets. They would keep him from starving for a little while at least. He would eat a part of one now, and keep the rest as long as he could. But he was only a little boy, and hungry, and the doughnuts tasted very good, and before he had decided, he had eaten the whole of one of them, and came very near eating the other. He restrained himself, however, put the doughnut away in his cap, which he laid in one corner of the doorway, and again began to think.

All at once he heard the mill-bell ring. It was six o'clock, then. Every one would be going home to supper. His mother would have the table all ready, with the pitcher of new milk, the sweet-smelling loaf of bread, and all the other good things, and every one would be wondering what had become of Christopher. David would be called, and would go all over the village asking for him. Well, Miss Hilliard would know that he had gone out with Osric after a pail of water. David would go out to Mr. Dennison's and question Osric, and so the truth would come out. Oh yes, they would certainly find him before long; but, meantime, how unhappy his poor mother would feel, and how grieved she would be to hear that he had been such a wicked boy!

Only that morning he had resolved that he would be so good, and yet he had allowed himself to be led away by the first temptation. He had deceived Miss Hilliard, who had always been so kind to him; he had disobeyed his dear, good mother, and displeased his heavenly Father, and all because he was afraid of Osric Dennison, who had led him into all this trouble, and left him to get out the best way he could.

Christopher burst into tears again, but this time they were tears of genuine repentance. He had been well brought up so far. He had been to Sunday-school all his life, and his mother had taught him to say his prayers, and had read the Bible with him ever since he could remember. The Sunday-school at Boonville was an old-fashioned one, where the children came to learn, and not to be "interested" or entertained. They learned their seven verses a week, and said them to their teacher on Sunday, and the elder ones found proof-texts on subjects given out by the superintendent, and committed to memory psalms and hymns.