Don’t you see how he could do it? Do you wonder how he could wish to keep the secret, for such silly reasons?
Stop a moment. Are you quite sure that you yourself would have done differently? Have you not, even now, some little uncomfortable secret hidden in your heart, that you had rather father or mother would not know? If you have, let me beg you to turn down a leaf, or put in a book-mark, at this very page, and go this moment to those dear hearts who are so ready to hear everything and forgive everything with that wonderful love of theirs which is most of anything on earth, like the love of our Father above.
Tom kept nothing back, but related all his faults, his concealments, his misgivings. At length his narrative reached the point at which we stopped in the last chapter, where he felt the passage narrowing, and the Indian following behind.
“I made one more push,” he said, “and this time wasn’t I glad to find that the tunnel was just a little larger? It was like an hour-glass; and I had passed the narrowest part, in the middle! As soon as I was sure of this, I felt about for some means to block the passage of the Indian. I dug with all my might into the earth, and pretty soon struck a good-sized rock. This almost filled the space, and, with the loose dirt around it, I hoped would discourage Sebattis—as I guess it did.
“I struck my forehead on a sharp stone and made it bleed, though I didn’t know that till just now. At the end of the tunnel was a little stone chamber and a half a dozen wooden steps leading up to the floor. These were so old that they crumbled when I stepped on them; but I managed to climb up on the side wall, and strike with a rock on the boards overhead. I was afraid every moment that the Indian might be upon me, and oh! I was so glad when I heard your voice!”
What further words passed between the repentant boy and his uncle, Tom never told. An hour later he came out of the Den, walked up to Pet (who had returned from her ride) with a white face but firm step, and placing the watch and chain in her hands, said, with trembling lips,
“I took it for fun, Pet, and was ashamed to tell—”
He could get no further, and Pet, after one glance at his face, forgave him on the spot. Nor did she ever ask him a single question about her lost watch.
CHAPTER XIV.
QUIET DAYS AT THE PINES.
WHO can describe the long, peaceful days of early autumn in the country? To our boys and girls at uncle Will’s, the hours were full of delight, though there were no more hair-breadth escapes, and no fatiguing expeditions undertaken.