“I only wish I could make it more joyful by telling you any good news of your lover, Margaret; but though I know nothing of him, and only wish he were more worthy of you than he is, yet I bear you tidings of some one else of whom you will all be glad to hear.”
“Our brother Charles!" both she and the boy at once exclaimed, whilst the old man remained in mute astonishment.
“It is of your brother Charles; and first, let me tell you that he is alive and well.”
“Thank God for that!" said the father.
“Next, that he is in England, and it will not be long before you will have the pleasure of seeing him.”
At this moment the door opened, and in walked the old clerk, who, seeing the stranger, made his bow, and gave him a piece of paper containing a receipt for the guinea which he had received. To the surprise of all, the stranger rose, and taking a little red box made in the shape of a barrel, which stood on the wooden shelf over the fire-place, he unscrewed it, and put the paper in it; and, replacing it, seated himself again.
“You were just telling us of our brother Charles,” said Margaret.
“What!" exclaimed the sexton, “is Charles alive? My old scholar! Where is the boy? I have often thought of him. Oh! what a pity he took to drinking! He was as good a reader as our clergyman, and beat me out and out.”
“He is not addicted to drink now, and is as sober as a man can be.”