_ CHAPTER XIII
The winter glided quietly, and withal pleasantly, away at Uncle Nathan's. To me it was a very busy season, being anxious to render myself helpful to my kind relatives, who were doing so much for me. It was some time before I could entirely overcome the feeling of distrust and suspicion with which Aunt Lucinda was inclined to regard me; her daily care for my comfort, and many real acts of kindness drew my naturally affectionate heart toward her, and it grieved me much to fear that she felt for me no affection; but Aunt Lucinda was not at all demonstrative, and seldom gave expression to her real feelings, besides this she had told Uncle Nathan at the first, she was sure I would turn out a bad boy, and, like all positive people, she disliked to acknowledge herself in the wrong. The reader is not to suppose that I consider myself as having been any thing like perfect at the time of which I am speaking; on the contrary, I had my full share of the failing and short-comings common to my age, and often my own temper would rise when Aunt Lucinda found fault with me, or in some other way manifested a feeling of dislike, and the bitter retort would rise to my lips; but I believe I can say with truth that I never gave utterance to a disrespectful word. My mother's counsel to me before leaving home, recurring to my mind, often prevented the impatient and irritable thought from finding expression in words; and before the winter was over, I found, what every one has found who tried the experiment, that there is scarcely a nature so cold and unfeeling as to withstand the charm of continued kindness. The last remaining feeling of animosity on the part of my aunt died out when my mother sent me a letter containing a small sum of pocket-money, and, without saying a word of my intention to any one, I expended this money in the purchase of a brooch, as a present to my aunt. The article was neither large nor showy, but was uncommonly neat and tasteful. It was an emerald in a setting of fine gold, and of considerable value; in fact, to buy it I was obliged to empty my purse of the last cent it contained. When, with a diffident manner, I presented the gift, asking my aunt to accept it for a keepsake, as well as a token of my gratitude for her kindness, a truly happy expression came over her usually rather stern countenance. "It was not," she said, "the value of the gift alone which pleased her, but it made her happy to know that I had sacrificed so much to make her a present; but" said she "I'll take good care that you will be no loser by remembering your Aunt Lucinda."
I felt more than paid for the sacrifice I had made to give pleasure to another; I was trying to learn the useful lesson of setting aside self that I might add to the happiness of others, especially of the kind friend, beneath whose roof I dwelt. It was my invariable custom on my way to school to call each morning for Willie and Rose Oswald. We became great friends, and many evenings did I carry over my books, that we might together study the lesson for the morning's recitation; and when (as was often the case) Uncle Nathan rallied me upon the subject, I replied, with much dignity, (as I thought) that I preferred studying with Willie and Rose, on account of Mr. Oswald being at hand to assist us. "It's all right, Walter" he would reply, "you and little Rose will make a handsome couple ten years from now, and I only hope I may live to see the day, for it won't do to have too many old bachelors in the family", and, with a roguish look at Aunt Lucinda, "to say nothing of old maids." My Aunt would snappishly tell him to "let the boy alone, and not be always teasing him," adding that at his time of life it ill became him to talk such nonsense; and, if Uncle Nathan wished to make her particularly angry he would reply, "if I am old, you are certainly two years older," and my aunt, who made it a point always to have the last word would say, as a closing argument, she hoped her years had taught her a little wisdom at any rate, but as for him he seemed to grow more foolish and light-minded with each year that was added to his age. I presume if any one else had dared to make this remark of Uncle Nathan they would have learned that he had an able defender in the person of his sister.
The winter passed away, till March came in with its piercing winds; and to me, if it had been a busy winter, it had also been a very happy one. With my studies, and companions at my labours at home, time passed swiftly, and I received frequent letters from my mother and sister, and also from Charley Gray. But this pleasant state of things was destined to continue but a short time, a dark cloud was even then hovering over me, which was soon to burst in terror over my head. Before the winter was over many of the boys at school began among themselves to accuse our teacher of an unjust partiality toward me, whether with or without cause I am unable to say. Mr. Oswald was a very estimable man, but he had very strong feelings, and was inclined to form his opinion of one at first sight; if that opinion chanced to be favourable, you were all right; if the reverse, he sometimes failed to give one credit for whatever of good there might be in them. I charge it to no superior merit in myself, but I believe from the very first I was a favourite with our teacher. I studied hard, and endeavoured to give no trouble by misconduct, though I doubtless had my faults as well as others. It may be that Mr. Oswald sometimes allowed his feelings to exhibit themselves more than was exactly wise. I have often heard him say that strong likes and equally strong dislikes were natural defects in his own character, against which he was obliged to exercise a continual watchfulness.
The idea once formed, that Mr. Oswald favoured me above others, gained ground amazingly fast. Each boy was on the watch, and the smallest action was noticed and repeated from one to another in an exaggerated form, till I became an object of bitter dislike to more than half the school. Many underhand attempts were made by some of my companions to hurt me in the good opinion of my teacher; but he possessed too much penetration and discernment to be easily misled, and for some time all attempts to injure me came back on themselves; but the feeling of enmity among the boys gained strength with each passing day. One day, about the middle of the forenoon, a gentleman who was owing Mr. Oswald money, called and gave him a ten-dollar bill. Mr. Oswald stepped to the door, where he received the money, and when he returned to the school-room, being busily engaged with a class, instead of placing the bill in his pocket-book lifted the cover of his desk and deposited it there; thinking to remove it before leaving the room, at noon. He forgot to do so, and went home to dinner leaving the money in his desk, without even locking it. The circumstance recurred to his mind soon after the school was called to order in the afternoon; and, going at once to his desk, could hardly credit his own eyesight when he perceived that the bill was gone; he examined all the papers in the desk, as well as every crevice and corner, but no bill could be found; and he became convinced that it was indeed gone, and he was equally certain that it had not been removed without hands. It was a most surprising circumstance, he had taught in that Academy five years, and this was the first instance of dishonesty among his pupils. Some boys, it was true, had given him trouble in various ways, but never any thing of this kind. He remained in deep thought for a few moments, but all this did not bring back the missing bill; and he decided that his duty was, if possible, to find out who had stolen the money, for stolen it had been beyond a doubt. He was sure if any boy had been tempted to purloin the money after returning to the school-room at the noon hour, he must have it about him still, having had no opportunity of disposing of it; he knew it must have been taken after the return of some of the boys for he was the last one himself who left the room at noon; and he therefore determined to take prompt measures to find out who was the guilty one. He had no suspicion of any one, for there was not a pupil in the school who for a moment he would have believed capable of such an act. He ordered perfect silence in the room and in as few words as possible explained what had happened; desiring if any one present possessed the least knowledge of the matter they would at once make it known to him; saying at the same time, if any boy had been tempted to take the money, if he would then come forward, and own the theft, and give up the bill, he would forgive him and the matter should go no further. Mr. Oswald granted us fifteen minutes, in which to reveal any thing we might know concerning the affair. A pin might have been heard to fall in the room during those fifteen minutes, and seeing that nothing was to be learned in that way Mr. Oswald rose and stepping from his desk said, "a duty is before me and it must be performed, no matter how unpleasant it may be, but this matter must not rest as it is. If you are all innocent you need not fear, but I shall certainly take the liberty of searching the pockets of every boy in this room, for, if any boy took that money, he has it now." Assisted by Mr. Lawrence he proceeded to search the pockets of each boy, keeping a sharp watch that no one had a chance to make way with the money if he had it in his possession. The boys were very willing their pockets should be searched, and none more so than I, who was anxious that even a shadow of suspicion should be removed from me.
It happened to be Mr. Oswald himself who examined my pockets, and, uttering an exclamation of surprise, almost of horror, he turned deadly pale, for with his own hand he drew from my vest pocket the missing bill. Had a bomb-shell burst in the school room the shock would not have been more unexpected than was occasioned by this discovery. My countenance must have expressed unbounded astonishment and dismay, but certainly not guilt. With a face of deep sorrow, and a voice tremulous with emotion, Mr. Oswald exclaimed: "Can it be possible! Walter Harland, that this is true? That you whom I would have trusted with uncounted gold have been led to commit this act. Would that the case admitted even of a doubt, but with my own hand I have taken from your pocket what I know is the money I placed in my desk this morning for, as is my custom, I noticed the number of the bill when I received it."
What could I do, what could I say, against such proof positive, and yet till my teacher drew the bill from my pocket, I had not the slightest knowledge of it's being there. I felt that to declare my ignorance of the matter would be almost useless, and yet, conscious of my own innocence, I could not keep silent. Looking Mr. Oswald boldly in the face I said, "whether you believe me or not I speak the truth when I tell you I never saw that bill till you took it from my pocket; how it came there I know not, but again I tell you I never took the money from your desk." I could say no more, and burst into tears. Mr. Oswald remained silent for a time, trying, I presume, to decide in his own mind as to his wisest course of action. Requesting the attention of all, he addressed us, saying. "You are all aware that I lost this money, and you all know where I found it. I am sensible that, with most persons, a doubt of Walter's guilt would not exist for a moment, but I say to you all, that, strong as appearances are against him, I am not entirely convinced that Walter Harland stole that money. He declares himself innocent; he has been a pupil in this school for some months past, and during this time I have never known him to deviate from the truth in the slightest degree. I shall wait for a time before proceeding further, and see what light may be thrown upon this most painful affair. If Walter did not place that bill in his pocket himself some one else did," and as Mr. Oswald spoke, he cast a searching glance from one desk to the other; but not a shadow of guilt could be detected upon the countenance of any present. "I would say in conclusion," said Mr. Oswald, "any scholar who taunts Walter with stealing, or ridicules him in any way, will be immediately expelled from school. For the present at least, let no allusion be made to the matter, unless it be in a way to throw light upon it, in that case let the communication be made to me alone. You all hear my commands, and I advise you to respect them." This was a dreadful afternoon to me; it seemed that a weight had suddenly fallen upon me which was crushing me to the earth. Although no one dared violate the commands of our teacher, I could not fail to notice the changed manner of nearly all my companions when school was dismissed. Some hurried away without taking any notice of me whatever; others seemed disposed to patronize me by their notice, which was more humbling still to one of my sensitive nature. The first ray of light which penetrated the darkness which had settled over my spirit was when Willie and Rose Oswald overtook me after a rapid walk, I having hurried away from every one. "What made you run away Walter," said Rose, panting for breath, "a nice race you have given us to overtake you. You needn't feel so bad," she continued, "I know you never took Papa's money, and I am certain he thinks just as I do, only he durst not speak too positively in the school-room; it is the work of some wicked bad boys, and you see if Papa don't find out the truth before he's done with it." I thought it unmanly to cry but it required a strong effort to keep back my tears, as I replied, "I am glad you believe me Rose, for I tell you again I
did not take that money, never saw it till it was taken from my pocket. I cannot tell whether I shall ever be proved innocent or not, if not what will become of me; it would break my mother's heart to know I was even suspected of such a crime." "Never fear, Walter, trust Papa to find it out," said the hopeful Rose. They departed with a kind "good night" and I proceeded sorrowfully to my home. _