His mother! David uttered a cry in which there was both anger and pain. Was his mother to hear her son accused as a thief?
“David,” said his friend solemnly, “it is at a time like this that our trust in God stands us in stead. There is nothing to be dismayed at, if you are innocent.”
“If!” said David, with a gasp.
“Ay! ‘if!’ Your mother herself might say as much as that. And you have not said that the charge is a false one yet.”
“I did not think I should need to say so to you!”
“But you see, my lad, I am not speaking for myself. I was bidden ask you the question point blank, and I must give your answer to him that sent me. My word is another matter. You must answer to him.”
“To Mr Oswald, I suppose? Why should he suspect me? Has he been suspecting me all these weeks? Was that the reason he wished nothing said about it in the office?”
“That was kindly meant, at any rate; and you needna’ let your eyes flash on me,” said Mr Caldwell, severely. “Don’t you think it has caused him much unhappiness to be obliged to suspect you?”
“But why should he suspect me?”
“There seemed to be no one else. But he must speak for himself. I have nothing to say for him. I have only to carry him your answer.”