Chapter III

WHILE Osric and Christopher had been hatching their conspiracy, Elsie and Anna had been sitting with Alice Brown under the willow by the side of the river.

It was a beautiful place. The river ran sparkling along, and made a cheerful, pleasant murmur against its banks. Just above the dam it was still and glassy, and poured over the edge of the dam in a smooth, even sheet. It was just the same, winter or summer, for it was the outlet of quite a large lake ten or twelve miles away, and was not affected by the dry weather. Across the river was a green bank, and above that the steep hillside in which General Dent's vault was built. The vault was shaded by trees, and the grass grew close to the threshold. The sun was shining on it, and a robin was sitting singing on one of the carved pinnacles over the door, but still Elsie thought it looked dismal.

"I shouldn't like to be buried in a vault," said she, with a shiver. "I should rather be put in the ground, where the grass could grow over me, and the sun shine on my grave."

"I think I should feel as thee does," replied Alice Brown; "but, after all, dear, thee knows it does not make any great difference. When the trumpet shall sound and the dead be raised, it will not matter much whether we are received from a grass-covered grave, or a stone vault, or the waters of the sea. We shall all meet the Lord in the air, to be ever with him, and that is the great thing."

Alice Brown was the oldest girl in school—quite a grown-up young woman. All the girls looked up to her, and she was kind to them all, but she was especially fond of Elsie and Anna. They on their part loved Alice dearly, told her all their troubles, and went to her for help and advice on all occasions. When Elsie first began to hope that she really loved her Saviour, Alice was the first person who found out what she was thinking of, and she had been a great help to Elsie ever since, in directing her by precept and example in the right way.

The girls sat silent for some moments, and then Elsie said suddenly:

"Alice, if you had a dear friend who kept doing wrong, and would do wrong whatever you could say to him, and if he would not mind a word you said, but only kept out of your way, what would you do?"

Alice knew well enough what Elsie meant, for Osric's faults were no secret at school, whatever they might be at home. She said nothing of him, however, but answered quietly:

"I think, Elsie, I should try to cast my burden on the Lord."

"Yes, but how?" asked Elsie. "I don't understand, Alice."

"Well, thee knows, Elsie, that we always have liberty to tell him all our troubles in our prayers, because he himself invites us, and promises us his help. If we see our friends going wrong, as thee says, and cannot help it ourselves, we must just ask the Lord to take the case in hand. We must ask him to send his Spirit to our friend, to lead him into the right way and keep him there, and then we must try to believe that he will do it."

"That seems to be the hard part of it," said Anna.

"It is hard sometimes," said Alice, sighing, "very hard indeed—but yet he will give us that grace as well as any other, if we are patient and humble in asking and in waiting for it. But, dears, it is time for the bell to ring, and we must not be late."

"Alice, won't you pray? You know what I mean," whispered Elsie, hanging back and squeezing her friend's hand. "I can't tell you about it, but you know who I mean."

"Yes, my dear," replied Alice. "Thee may be sure I will."

If Miss Hilliard had noticed, she might have seen that Christopher looked red and confused, and hesitated a moment, when she told him to go with Osric and bring a pail of fresh water. As he rose to obey, Christie's conscience gave him a last pull and whisper—a last draw before it was too late. He had half a mind to ask to be excused, but he thought how vexed Osric would be, and how he would laugh at him, and the fear of man was stronger in his mind than the fear of doing wrong. When Osric and Christopher came out of the school-house, it wanted a quarter to three.

"We shall be just in time," said Osric. "Hurry, Chris! Never mind the old pail. Leave it anywhere."

Christopher, however, hid the pail behind the corner of the fence, and then ran on after Osric, who was already at the bridge. They went up along the road leading to the vault, and stopped among the trees.

"There! You see we can't go into the vault," said Christopher. "There is General Dent's man Isaac watching the door."

"Likely as not he will go away in a minute," returned Osric. "Wait a little and see. Yes, there he goes. Now let us run and peep in before he comes back again."

The two boys hastened up the hill and into the vault, the door of which stood open. There was not much to see, after all. There were no coffins standing about, as Osric had expected. In truth, the coffins were placed in niches in the wall, and there built up, and a marble slab or tablet placed over the spot to show who was buried there. Christopher and Osric peeped about trying to read the inscriptions on these tablets.

"Do you suppose the coffins are in behind the wall or under the floor?" asked Christopher.

"I suppose they are in behind these marble slabs," replied Osric, in a tone of disappointment. "I thought they would be lying on shelves or on the ground, so that we could see them. How cold it is in here, isn't it?"

"I suppose that is because the vault is under ground. See here, Ozzy—here is the old general's stone. Born 1750. More than a hundred years ago."

"He was an old man when he died, too," said Osric. "I can just remember him. Here is the general's youngest sister. Aged twelve—just as old as I am, and she died so long ago—1802."

"I wonder if she has been in heaven all that time?" said Christopher, who was a thoughtful child. "I wonder whether the general will know her when he gets there, too? Oh dear! I wish I hadn't come here!" said Christopher, struck with sudden remorse. "Suppose we should die suddenly, Ozzy?"

"Now, Christy Parsons, if you begin whining, I will never speak to you again as long as I live!" said Osric, angrily. "I should never have come, if you hadn't been so ready to come with me, and now you begin blaming me."

"I didn't blame you, either!" returned Christopher, greatly hurt. "I only said, What if we should die suddenly? And I didn't make you come, either, you know. I never should have thought of running away from school, if you hadn't coaxed me, and I mean to go right back this minute and tell Miss Hilliard I am sorry and I won't do so again."

"And so get punished and kept after school, and have all the boys laugh at you for a tattle-tale and a girl-boy," said Osric, "and just as likely as not, have General Dent taking you up and putting you into jail for trespass. They do put people into jail for trespass, I know, and of course trespassing in a vault would be worse than any other."

As the two boys were wrangling at the far end of the vault, they heard outside a noise of horses' feet and wheels and subdued voices. The funeral train had come up, and they had not seen it, after all.

"We can't get out now, anyhow," said Osric. "We shall have to wait till they bring in the coffin, and then we can see that, at any rate, and slip out with the rest of the people."

"But somebody will be sure to see us," said Christopher, on whose mind the idea of going to jail for trespass had taken a strong hold. "I don't see how we can ever get out at all."

"Hush, can't you?" returned Osric, giving him a pinch. "Somebody will hear you. Just you do as I do. There! They are saying the prayers."

"In the midst of life, we are in death: of whom may we seek for succour but of thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased? Yet, O Lord most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death!"

How solemn the words sounded! Christopher felt as if they were meant for him—as if he were being buried instead of Miss Lilla. He burst out crying in spite of himself, and of Osric's shakes and pinches.

"Do be still, you great baby! I never saw such a dunce in my life! I never will go anywhere with you again!"

"I can't help it!" sobbed Christopher. "I feel so bad;" and he withdrew from Osric's grasp to the very farthest end of the vault, which was quite spacious, and leaning his head against the damp wall, he cried as if his heart would break.

Meantime, the service was concluded; the white and glistening coffin, covered with flowers, was brought in and set down on the floor. Osric had his wits about him, and as the bearers withdrew, he slipped out with them without being noticed, and hid in a thick bush which grew close to the door. There were no pall-bearers dressed in white, no plumes of white feathers or white velvet pall. There were no grand carriages from Hobartown, but only Mr. Parmalee's own, with General Dent's, Doctor Henry's, and a few others from the Springs. It was no such great show, after all.

Osric was so busy noticing these things that he never thought of Christopher. There was some confusion among the carriages at going away: one was upset, and the horses were frightened. Osric waited till all was quiet and every one had gone. Then he came out and ran towards the school-house. He did not see any one, and thought with some vexation that recess was over, and he should be caught, after all. What was his astonishment, on arriving within sight of the school-house, to see the door and windows closed, and nobody about but Elsie, who as soon as she saw him, came running along the road to meet him.

"Why, Ozzy, where have you been?" she exclaimed. "School has been out almost an hour, and it is five o'clock. Where is Christy?"

"He has gone home long ago," said Osric, but as he spoke his heart sank, and he turned as pale as death, for it struck him all at once like a blow, that he had left Christopher locked up in the burial-vault.