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daunted courage.
cc Rose wished to see the man,” said
Mrs. Maylie, “but I wouldn’t hear of
a
6 Humph !” rejoined the doctor. —
“There "s nothing very alarming in his
appearance. Have you any objection to
see him in my presence!"
“If it be necessary,” replied the old
lady, “certainly not.”
“Then I think it is necessary,” said
the doctor; “at all events I am quite
sure that you would deeply regret not
having done so, if you postponed it. He
is perfectly quiet and comfortable now.
Allow me— Miss Rose, will you permit
me? not the slightest fear, I pledge you
my honour.”
With many more loquacious assuran¬
ces that they would be agreeably sur¬
prised in the aspect of the criminal, the
doctor drew the young lady’s arm through
one of his, and offering his disengaged
hand to Mrs. Maylie, led them with much
eeremony and stateliness up stairs.
s Now,” said the doctor in a whisper
as he softly turned the handle of a bed¬
room door, “let us hear what you think
of him. He has not been shaved very
recently, but he doesn’t look at all fero¬
cious notwithstanding. Stop, though:
let me see that he is in visiting order
first.”
Stepping before them, he looked into
the room, and motioning them to advance,
closed the door when they had entered,
and gently drew back the curtains of the
bed. Upon it, in heu of the dogged,
black-visaged ruffian they had expected
to behold, there lay a mere child, worn
with pain and exhaustion and sunk into
a deep sleep. His wounded arm, bound
and splintered up, was crossed upon his
breast, and his head reclined upon the
ether, which was half hidden by his long
hair as it streamed over the pillow.
The honest gentleman held the curtain
in his hand, and looked on for a minute
or so, in silence. Whilst he was watch¬
ing the patient thus, the younger lady
glided softly past, and seating herself in
a chair by the bedside gathered Oliver’s
hair from his face, an
over him, her tears fell upon his fore¬
head.
The boy stirrea and smiled in his
sleep, as though tnese marks of pity and
compassion had awakened some pleasant
dream of a love and affection he had
never known; as a strain of gentle
music, or the rippling of water ina silent
place, or the odour of a flower, or even
the mention of a familiar word, will
sometimes call up sudden dim remem¬
brances of scenes that never were, in
this life, which vanish like a breath, and
which some brief memory of a happier
existence long gone by, would seem to
have awakened, for no power of the
human mind can ever recal them.
“What can this mean!” exclaimed
the elder lady. “This poor child can
never have been the pupil of robbers.”
“Vice,” sighed the surgeon, replacing
the curtain, “takes up her abode in many
temples, and who can say that a fair out¬
side shall not enshrine her?"
“ But at so early an age,” urged Rose.
“My dear — lady,” rejoined the
surgeon, mournfully shaking his head,
‘crime, like death, is not confined to the
old and withered alone. The youngest
and fairest are too often its chosen vic¬
tims.”
“ But, can you—oh, sir! can you, real¬
the voluntary associate of the worst out¬
casts of society?” said Rose anxiously.
The surgeon shook his head in a man¬
ner which intimated that he feared it was
that they
might disturb the patient, led the way
“But even if he has been wicked,”
pursued Rose, “think how young he is;
think that he may never have known a
mother’s love, or even the comfort of a
home, and that l-usage and blows, or
the want of bread, may have driven him
to herd with the men who have forced
him to guilt. Aunt, dear aunt, for mercy’s
sake think of this before you let them
drag this sick child to a prison, which in
any case must be the grave of all his
chances of amendment. Oh! as you
love me, and know that I have never felt
the want of parents in your goodness and
affection, but that I might have done so,
and unprotected with this poor child,
have pity upon him before it is too
late.”
“My dear love!” said the elder lady,
as she folded the weeping girl to her
bosom; “do you think I would harm a
hair of his head?"
“Oh, no!” replied Rose, eagerly, "not
you, aunt, not you!”
s No;" said the old lady with a trem¬
bling lip, “my days are drawing to their
close, and may mercy be shown to me as
I show it to others. What can I do to
save him, sir ?”