Read Ebook: The Friends; or The Triumph of Innocence over False Charges A Tale Founded on Facts by Unknown

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As Henry walked down the school, with a dejected countenance, his eye instinctively turned toward his friend George, who had been anxiously observing him during the whole time his master had been conversing with him. It seemed to George to say, "I am charged with a serious fault, and I shall stand in need of all the help you can afford me;" and a careless observer might, in a moment, have seen, by the friendly and benignant smile upon George's face, that he would surely have it.

Doctor Harris had as yet refrained from stating the circumstance to his family; but as the hour was near at hand when he determined to have a general search, he thought it best to make them acquainted with it, though with little hopes of gaining any information from them. When Mrs. Harris heard the tale, she treated it with indifference, and said that she had no doubt but that the money would be forthcoming; for it was her opinion, that some of the boys had taken it merely to tease Scott, whom she stated to be rather too fond of hoarding. The daughters thought the same, and were quite unhappy to think that their little favourite should be suspected. Juliana, indeed, was about to hasten to the school-room, in the hope of affording him some consolation, but was requested by her papa to remain where she was.

At length the school broke up; and, by the command of Dr. Harris, search was made in every part, not merely amongst the boys, but also amongst the servants; but, unfortunately, without finding the new coin. The boys were now all assembled with the family, and Dr. Harris commenced his examination, by asking Scott when he last saw his money. "Last Sunday morning, Sir," he replied; "and Henry was with me at the time." This Henry corroborated, by saying it was true, and that he saw him put it in his purse again; when Greene stepped forward and said, that he believed no person but Henry knew of Scott's possessing this new coin; and that he, therefore, was the only person that could have taken it.

At this direct charge Henry stood for some time amazed; and then bursting into a flood of tears, vehemently protested against the truth of his assertion, and dared him to the proof; when Walker, who stood close by Greene and Scott, said, "It is of no use for you to deny it, Master Wardour, as I know those that can prove they saw you take the money." Henry was for a moment speechless; when George said it was false, and demanded, with more than common earnestness, that he would bring forth his accusers, and let him meet them face to face.

This request was repeated by the rest of the boys, who feared they might have said something, in an unguarded moment, which Walker had construed into an assertion of Henry's guilt. Dr. Harris also requested Walker to name the person who saw him take the money; when he replied, that he knew no more than what Greene had told him, who said he saw Henry steal it.

Greene now slunk behind the rest of the boys; and in consequence of this tone being taken by this excellent lady, Walker apologized for having accused Henry of so great a crime, and added, that he should never again believe what Greene said.

"You may go, Master Henry," said Dr. Harris, in the kindest manner possible, "and I have no doubt that the thief will be found out; and then those who have accused you will have cause to be ashamed of themselves."

George, little Ned, and a great number of his school-fellows, now crowded round Henry, congratulating him upon his victory, as they were all anxious to see him fairly acquitted of the charge. Eliza and Juliana also joined the little throng, and, by their caresses, endeavoured to rally him into his usual good spirits, which they continued to do for some days after. As, however, no discovery was made about the money, he felt himself very uneasy, and could not but think that many of the boys looked upon him as a thief; especially as insinuations were sometimes thrown out by the elder boys, which made him very miserable; and those who had first accused him, would frequently ask, in his hearing, "Who stole Scott's money?"

A fortnight had now nearly elapsed, and the affair began, in some measure, to wear off. Indeed, it was seldom mentioned, except by those boys who appeared, from the commencement, so desirous of obtaining a verdict against Henry. His school-fellows, generally, were anxious to play with him, and endeavoured to rouse his spirits by every means in their power. They never commenced a new game, but he was solicited to join them; and they never went for a walk, but he was anxiously requested to accompany them. All their endeavours however, were fruitless: they could not make him what he was before this charge was brought against him. He evidently had something preying upon his mind; for instead of being one of the most lively boys in the school--one who had hitherto shown a desire to join in any good-natured frolic--he was now become quite serious, and even melancholy. In vain did his friend George use every exertion: he who before could have persuaded him to any thing, and to whose advice he had always paid a great regard, now entreated him, in vain, to cheer his drooping spirits. Mrs. Harris, with her two daughters, also endeavoured to laugh him out of what they called his sulky mood; but he replied, that he could not help it; that he should never again be happy till it was discovered who it was that stole Scott's money; and that its being lost while he was his bed-fellow, certainly threw a suspicion upon him that he could not get over, and to labour under which made him truly miserable.

Dr. Harris felt a great deal of uneasiness about the matter, not merely because he saw Henry labouring under so serious a charge, but that an affair of such a nature should remain so long undetected, and that he should hitherto have been foiled in his attempts to clear up the mystery. In this state he continued, when, one morning, after he had returned from his usual early walk, and was crossing the lawn that led from the school to the parsonage-house, he observed a poor woman, rather shabbily dressed, looking in at the school-room window. Not appearing to find the object of her search, she was turning towards the house, when she encountered the person of the Doctor.

"Who are you looking for, good woman?" asked he.

"I--I want," apparently somewhat disturbed by meeting the master, "I want to see one of the little boys, Sir," she said, curtsying very low.

"What little boy do you want? and what do you want him for?"

"I don't know his name, Sir; but he wears a short blue jacket and nankeen trowsers, and a white hat, Sir. He has black hair, and he is a very handsome boy, Sir."

"Is his name Henry," said Dr. Harris.

"I think that was the name the other lad called him by, Sir; for there was another fresh-coloured little gentleman came to the cottage with him."

"What did they come to your cottage about, my good woman?"

"Oh, Sir, I and my poor dear sick husband ought to be very thankful for the help they gave us. And I now want to see them, to thank them for their goodness, and to tell them that my husband will, by God's mercy, be able to go to work very soon. That's all I wanted, Sir," she said, again curtsying, though with some degree of alarm; for she feared that her peeping about for the boys might have offended Dr. Harris.

"What did they do for your sick husband then?" asked Dr. Harris. "I do not think they had the power of rendering you much assistance."

"Oh yes, Sir, they had," she replied: "Master Henry gave us, altogether, sixteen shillings. And I am sure, that if he had not helped us, we should all have been starved. But the Lord is always very good, and sends something to those who are in want."

At this recital Dr. Harris felt amazed; and the circumstance of Scott's money being lost, immediately recurred to his memory. "It must be so," he said to himself: "these boys, anxious to do a service to this poor family, have taken Scott's money from his box, where I suppose they thought it was lying useless, and appropriated it to relieving their wants.--Step in doors, my good woman," he said, as he hastened across the lawn: "step in: I wish to ask you a few questions."

Martha Watson, now repented having come to the school at all, as she feared, from the anxiety in Dr. Harris's face, that the boys might get scolded for coming to the cottage without leave of their master; and she followed him to the house with a faltering step.

The servant having opened the door, Dr. Harris led the way into a little room, which was his study, and desired Martha Watson to enter, when he closed the door, and they both sat down. "Where do you live, pray?" asked the Doctor.

"In one of those poor cottages, Sir, in the lane that leads on to the common."

"You say these boys gave you sixteen shillings: I wish you would tell me what it was that first induced them to come to your cottage, and every thing you know about them."

Martha Watson now felt very uneasy, and anxiously asked whether they had done any thing wrong, which she the more feared, as she had not seen them for some time past. Dr. Harris begged of her to answer his question, and assured her that there was no cause for her alarm.

She then related to him the following circumstance: "About a month ago, Sir, as my little son Jack, who is about six years old, was coming from Farmer Miles's, with a pitcher full of milk, and making all the haste he could to get home with it for his daddy's supper, these two young gentlemen were hastening off the common, and in their hurry to turn the corner of the lane, they did not see little Jack, but ran against him. So, Sir, they ran so violently, that they knocked him down, spilled the milk, broke the pitcher into a hundred pieces, and cut poor Jack's arm, which bled very much indeed."

"They did not do him a very serious injury, I hope," said the Doctor.

"No, Sir; only cut his arm a little. Finding, however, that Jack was afraid to go home alone, they came with him to our cottage, when they told me the whole affair, and said how sorry they were they had spilt the milk and broke the pitcher; and did all they could to pacify little Jack. When they found how poor we were, and saw my dear husband sick in bed, they asked me many questions: how long he had been ill, what money we had, and many others; and when I told them that he had kept his bed for five weeks, and was not then able to get up; and that we had no money, but the little I and my eldest girl could earn in the fields, they talked together a little while, and the young gentleman in the white hat said, that he would see me again in about an hour, and pay me for the pitcher and the milk, and give me something for my husband."

"Did they return then in about an hour?" said Dr. Harris.

"A guinea!" exclaimed Dr. Harris, interrupting the woman: "are you positive it was a guinea?"

"I am sure it was a golden coin, Sir; because they asked me to change it. But that was impossible, for I had no money at all in the house."

"Well, my good woman, and what did they do then?" asked Dr. Harris, evidently much agitated.

"Why, Sir, finding I had no money, they went into the town and got the golden coin changed, and gave me ten shillings of it. In a few days, Sir, they came again, and gave me six more shillings."

"Did they ever call after that time?"

"Once, Sir, which was about ten days ago; and as I have not seen them since, I made free to call here this morning; because I am sure they would be glad to hear that my poor dear husband was getting better, and would soon be able to work. If the young gentlemen had not been so kind to us, I don't know what we should have done. I am afraid my poor husband must have died for want of proper things. But the Lord will reward them for their kindness; and I am sure they are good boys."

Dr. Harris congratulated the cottager upon the restoration of her husband to health, and said that Mrs. Harris should visit her family; and that he would also tell Henry and George that she had called to thank them; but that it was not convenient for her to see them just then. Having again asked her where she resided, he bade her good morning, and she immediately returned home.

When Martha Watson had gone, Dr. Harris joined his family at the breakfast-table, and related the whole of the affair to them, adding his conviction of Henry's guilt, and that he was sorry to find he had been so deceived by him. George too, he said, was equally guilty; for he had been a party in giving away the stolen property. "I shall write to their parents this evening," he added; "for I am at a loss to know how to punish such duplicity and wickedness."

Mrs. Harris and her daughters, although staggered by the statement which the Doctor had made to them, suggested the propriety of calling in Henry and George. "For," said Mrs. Andrews, "although it looks very suspicious, I never can believe them guilty until it is plainly proved."

"I think this is sufficient proof," he said, rather angrily; for he felt vexed to think of the trouble this affair would give to their parents.

"True; so it is, my dear," answered his wife, "if not contradicted; but I hope that they will be able to give such an explanation as will be satisfactory to us all."

"And that I am sure they will," said Eliza, rising from her chair; "and pray, papa, let me call them in."

The servant at this moment entered the room to take away the breakfast-things, when Dr. Harris desired her to send in Master Wardour and Master Harrington.

The boys had but just taken their seats in the school-room, when the servant summoned them into the parlour. Henry, who still continued in the same desponding mood, felt gratified by hearing that he was wanted there; but it was only a momentary pleasure. He at first thought he might be wanted to accompany Eliza and Juliana to the garden, or be commissioned by Mrs. Harris to go into the town for her; but when he found that George was also wanted, and that they were to go together, he felt convinced of some fresh trouble; for he was not the same cheerful boy he used to be. Fear seemed to have taken possession of his whole frame; when George, thinking he observed a tear starting in his eye, grasped his hand with the warmth of sincere friendship, and cheered him up by saying, "Now for it, Henry: it is all settled, and we are wanted to hear the good news;" and they went, hand in hand, into the parlour.

After making their obedience, they walked up to the table; and Dr. Harris, with a look somewhat more stern than usual, said, "Henry, do you know a woman named Martha Watson, who lives near the common?"

"Yes, Sir," said George, "I know her: a very poor woman."

"I asked Henry," said Dr. Harris; "and I expect that he will answer me."

But poor Henry, from some cause or other, was, at the moment, unable to reply. George, therefore, seeing his friend at a loss, immediately gave the answer; and Henry, recovering his self-possession, now gave a direct answer to every question that the worthy master put to him, and proceeded to explain how they became possessed of so much money. "George and I," he said, "were one day walking through the town, when we met a gentleman on horseback, who had lately seen our parents in London. He told us that he was going to call upon us at the school; but as he had met us, that would do as well. He then gave us a new coin, which is called a sovereign; and after staying with us about a quarter of an hour, he shook hands with us, and rode off."

"And the same evening," added George, "we had the misfortune to run over little Jack Watson, and break his pitcher. We then thought it our duty to see him safe home, and to pay for the pitcher and milk. When we got to the cottage, we saw the poor man stretched on a wretched straw mattress, where he said he had been above a month; and the tear rolled down his cheek when he looked round the room, and saw five little children, who were all anxiously waiting for the milk which we had been so unfortunate as to knock out of little Jack's hand. Indeed, Sir," George continued, "we never before saw so much wretchedness; and Henry said, that as we had plenty to eat and drink, and pocket-money besides, we might as well get the new coin changed, and give them some of it, saying, he wished we had more. I agreed to give nearly all my share; and the next morning we went to the cottage, and gave most of the money to the poor people."

"But why did you not tell me or Mrs. Harris of this distressed cottager, and also that you had had so much money given to you, Henry?"

"Because, Sir, you had given strict orders that no boy should enter a place of sickness, for fear of bringing away a fever. We should not have gone there; but we had hurt poor Jack, and he was afraid to go home, after having lost all the milk. He said his mother would not believe him, if he told her that some one had broken the pitcher."

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