William hastened out of the house with his basket. He knew that if he met any of his school companions they would ask him how long he had turned apothecary’s boy, what wages he got, and whether he made the pills as well. He determined not to mind. Still he anxiously looked about, fearing some might appear. He ran on, therefore, till he reached the steep part of the path up the mountain. As he climbed up his heart again failed him, for he began to fear that Jenny Davis would at all events scold him, and that perhaps Moggy, seeing him alone, would say something disagreeable. Still, as he had volunteered to go, it would be arrant cowardice if he turned back. He reached the hut and looked in at the window. Jenny saw him, and saw that he had a basket in his hand.
“Come in, come in, my good young sir,” she exclaimed.
The words encouraged William, and he entered.
“It’s like your father’s son to come and visit the poor and the afflicted,” she added. “I’m sure I thank ye, and so does she who lies there, though she’s ill able to speak now.”
Moggy, whose senses had by this time returned, heard her.
“Ay—bless you, young gentleman! bless you!” she muttered. “I forgive you, and thank you, and am your debtor; and there’s One above who’ll forgive you if you go to Him.”
It surprised and puzzled him that Moggy bore him no ill-will, after all the injury he had inflicted on her. He did not stop to inquire how this was, but, having left the contents of his basket, bent his steps homeward. As he wound his way by the path down the mountain-side, at a far more sedate pace than was his wont, he thought over the matter. Suddenly the words of the Lord’s Prayer occurred to him—“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.”
“That’s it; she has been very wicked, and so she forgives me that she may be forgiven,” he said to himself. “But then I have been very wicked too, and I have nobody to forgive. I don’t know anybody who has done me harm; I wish that somebody would, and then I might forgive them.” He reached home, and made his way to his room again. No one came near him all day. At dinner-time Anna stole up with a plate of meat and vegetables. She placed it before him, but he felt very little inclination to eat. Anna was about to quit the room; Willie stopped her.
“I know I am very wicked, but I don’t know what to do!” he exclaimed, sobbing. “I wish that papa would come and tell me.”
Anna reported these words to their father. The Doctor might have hastened at once to Willie, but he judged it wiser to allow the good impression that had been formed to take root. He therefore sent him up the Bible, by Anna, and begged him to read the answer of Paul to the gaoler at Philippi. Anna showed him other texts of Scripture—“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy”; and then pointed out warnings against those who wrong and oppress the poor and the afflicted.