A hand was laid upon his shoulder—he started.
“Come, Arthur, come to bed. I cannot sleep while you sit here,” was said by a boy, apparently several years his senior, who had arisen from a bed in the room. But finding Arthur still immovable, he continued, “Don’t mind them, Arthur—I would not mind what they say. The whole crew have about as much sense as their Poodle, on which the entire stock of their susceptibilities seems expended. And to hear the rascally old fellow threaten to flog you, after making such a fuss to get you back. But that’s the old woman’s fault, because the poor old gentleman, in his perturbation at your disappearance, sat down on her ‘sweet Adonis’s paw!’ Why, Arthur, you would have died laughing, (for I did nearly,) if you could have heard the fuss that was raised over that miserable little dog. But we were all glad that you had spunk enough to go to see your sister.”
“I was not thinking of them,” interrupted Arthur—“I don’t care what they say or do to me now.”
“Then, Arthur, wont you come and lie down?” laying his arm coaxingly upon his shoulder.
Arthur suffered himself passively to be led to bed, after which, Dick continued. “I suppose, when the old woman broke her word with you, after you had saved the life of her child, she thought she had a particular license to lie! And the old man, too, when he tells me to say that I am selling things ‘under cost,’ while he is getting a good profit on them. So I thought, as they are good church-going people, there could be no possible harm, in a poor dog like myself, following their example. And when they asked me where you were gone, I would not say what you had told me to, for I thought it better you should get the start of them; so I told them I did not know,” and with this Dick fell asleep, leaving Arthur to his own melancholy reflections.
Spring again appeared in all her loveliness. The full-orbed moon rode above on her chariot of clouds, now smiling upon the tranquil earth, now veiling her face in their misty folds. And as her smiles beamed forth, they shone through a window upon a bunch of drooping violets.
The little flower-spirit awakened, beheld before it the child of yore; but oh, how changed! That brow, though still so beautifully fair, had lost the halo of its purity. The brilliant beings of the mind, pluming their pinions to the distant spheres, were dragged to earth. Love, too, with the bright beings that adore, was bound, but a rosy light played round its fetters, while ministers of flesh were tracing, with barbed arrows, dark, fearful characters upon the throbbing heart. The angel’s face was veiled, but sorrowful supplications still went up to heaven.
The boy started from his feverish slumbers, and looked fearfully around. Awakening his companion, he cried, “Dick! Dick! do wake up! Oh, I have had such horrible dreams I cannot sleep! Oh, this weight upon my heart will kill me! I cannot deceive Mr. Buckler any longer—I must go tell him all, or my heart will break.”
“Go, and be kicked away as a poor alms-house boy for your pains.”