Just at this moment, Clara put the last stitches to the work upon which she was engaged; and, throwing it aside, she said joyfully,—
“Come, Frank, I have finished work for this evening. Bring your flute, and I will sing the new song that we like so much.”
Frank readily complied; and Mrs. Wilbur listened with delight as Clara’s sweet voice mingled with the soft notes of her brother’s flute.
But, at the end of the first song, Frank rose hurriedly, as if suddenly recollecting something, saying as he did so,—
“Mother, I must go back to the store for a little while.”
“Go back to the store, my son! For what purpose, at this hour?”
“A cask of gunpowder was brought there this afternoon, mother, and I fear that it was not put in a place of safety. We have a particular place for keeping it, in order to guard against accidents. It was given in charge to our head clerk; but he was unexpectedly called away this evening, and I do not feel sure that he attended to it.”
“But as you were not desired to take care of it, Frank, will it not answer to leave it where it is until morning?” asked Mrs. Wilbur, for the walk was a long one, and she felt sorry to have Frank go at so late an hour.
“You can move it to-morrow, when you open the store,” urged Clara. “You will need some one to help you, and there is no one there to-night.”
“There are men enough near by,” replied Frank, smiling. “I think I will go, mother. I do not love to leave this pleasant room, especially as Clara is ready to sing with me; but I believe it is my duty to attend to that powder immediately. There is no time like the present, you know, mother. I do not forget father’s motto.”