"What do we stand here for?" said the stable-boy, snatching the flower-pot out of Lawrence's trembling hands, and pulling him away from the door.
"Goodness!" cried Lawrence. "You won't take all—you said you'd only take half-a-crown, and pay it back on Monday—you said you'd only take half-a-crown!"
"Hold your tongue," replied the other, walking on, deaf to all remonstrances. "If I am to be hanged ever, it shan't be for half-a-crown."
Lawrence's blood ran cold in his veins, and he felt as if all his hair stood on end. Not another word passed.
His accomplice carried off the money, and Lawrence crept, with all the horrors of guilt upon him, to his restless bed. All night he was starting from frightful dreams; or else, broad awake, he lay listening to every small noise, unable to stir, and scarcely daring to breathe—tormented by that most dreadful of all kinds of fear, that fear which is the constant companion of an evil conscience. He thought the morning would never come; but when it was day, when he heard the birds sing, and saw everything look cheerful as usual, he felt still more miserable.
It was Sunday morning, and the bell rang for church. All the children of the village, dressed in their Sunday clothes, innocent and gay, and little Jem, the best and gayest among them, went flocking by his door to church.
"Well, Lawrence," said Jem, pulling his coat as he passed, and saw Lawrence leaning against his father's door, "what makes you look so black?"
"I!" said Lawrence, starting. "Why do you say that I look black?"
"Nay, then," said Jem, "you look white enough, now, if that will please you; for you've turned as pale as death."
"Pale!" replied Lawrence, not knowing what he said; and turned abruptly away, for he dared not stand another look of Jem's conscious that guilt was written in his face, he shunned every eye. He would now have given the world to have thrown off the load of guilt which lay upon his mind; he longed to follow Jem, to fall upon his knees, and confess all. Dreading the moment when Join should discover his loss, Lawrence dared not stay at home, and not knowing what to do, or where to go, he mechanically went to his old haunt at the stable-yard, and lurked thereabouts all day, with his accomplice, who tried in vain to quiet his fears and raise his spirits by talking of the next day's cock-fight.