A London Baby: The Story of King Roy
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away. The boy went first, then the girl. Imay never see 'em again."
"May be you worn't a werry good father to 'em," said Meg. "May be Jesuslet 'em run away so as to show yer how to be a better father to 'em.There is some as beats their children, and some as neglec's 'em. Idunno wot is best. May be Jesus seen as you neglec'ed yer littlechildren."
Warden felt the lines tightening round his mouth at these words. It wasbroad daylight, it was true, and Meg was only a poor, ragged child, buther face was so solemn, and her big eyes shone with so intense a light,and she was so absolutely fearless before him, that he felt impressed,even just a trifle afraid--something as he would have felt had he beenlooking at an accusing angel.
"You may have neglec'ed yer little children," she repeated.
When she did so, Warden nodded his head.
"It is true," he said. "It is very true, God forgive me; but I nevermeant it. I fear I was a very hard man."
"Then you jest tell Jesus that," said Meg, rising. "You tell Him as youbelieves in Him, as you loves Him, as yer real sorry you spoke sodreffle bitter. It wor awful the way as you _did_ speak; but wot's sowonderful beautiful in Him is how He furgives. You tell Him as yerdetermined to neglec' yer children never no more, and I'm sure as He'lllet yer have 'm back again."
"Little girl," said Warden, "tell me the truth as you profess to loveGod. Do you know anything, anything at all, of my little son, mylittle, lost son, Roy?"
"No," answered Meg. "I wishes as I did, I don't know nothink; but Imeans to pray to Jesus, and Jesus ull help me to find him. I feel ashe'll be found, fur Jesus do love him so werry much."
Meg went away, and Warden, unlocking the door, saw her ragged figuredisappearing down the stairs. He sighed when he saw the last of her.Then, relocking his door, he returned to his seat by the table. As heseated himself he remembered that he had neither asked her name norwhere she lived. It would be impossible, then, for him if he wanted heragain to find her.
He sat on perfectly motionless, recalling every word of the strange andpassionate scene just enacted before him. At last his thoughts centredround one sentence, which began to burn into his heart like fire.
"May be Jesus seen as you neglec'ed yer little children."
He thought and thought, and more and more intolerable each moment becamehis feelings. At last he found that there was only one position inwhich he could bear them. He slid down from the chair to his knees.There he remained for some hours.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
That very same Sunday evening, while Warden remained upon his knees, andthe Recording Angel, looking down at him, could declare for the firsttime, "Behold, he prayeth," Hannah Searles was very miserable. Therewas no longer any doubt, even to so untrained and ignorant a woman asshe was, that little Roy was very ill. During the greater part of thepast week he had been taking more or less of the fatal drops. A few inthe day, more at night, had Hannah given him. They always seemed to herinexperience to have a most beneficial effect on him. His fretfulnessceased, his blue eyes closed, and he slept; but though sleep was alwayssupposed to be so very good for children, Hannah could never discoverthat little Roy awoke refreshed or the better for his sleep. Morefretful each time was the little voice, more dull and clouded the eyes.On Sunday he absolutely refused all food; but he was already intelligentenough to see that the bottle which held the drops gave him presentrelief, and he pointed to it and asked for more repeatedly. On Sunday,however, Hannah only gave him one small dose, for even to her obtusemind the thought had occurred that it might not be doing him so muchgood as she had hoped.
After this dose he lay in her arms for long hours in heavy slumber. Itwas a foggy day, and very little light came into the cellar; but whatfitful rays did penetrate the gloom fell upon a very white and sunkenlittle face. Yes; there was no doubt at last, no doubt at all, that Roylooked as bad as Davie had looked; nay, more, that he looked worse thanDavie had ever looked, except--Oh! good God! was Roy going to die too?Hannah felt herself trembling all over as this thought occurred to her.Was she a second time to lose her all; was a second time her one heart'streasure to be torn from her arms and from her love?
"And I promised God as I'd try hard to be good ef He'd leave me thisyere young 'un as I found lost in the street," she said. In her soredespair she felt angry against God. What right had He not to take herat her word, and allow her to be good in her own way? It had never yetentered into her poor, untaught mind that in keeping little Roy she waskeeping what was not her own. The other folks to whom God had firstentrusted him had been careless of so great and precious a trust, so hehad been sent to her. She regarded him as absolutely her own, and noidea of returning him to his people entered once into her head. Ofcourse they might by great cleverness trace him until they found him,and then they would tear him from her arms; but never, until thishappened, would she relinquish him. What! never! ah! she was not sosure of that. _Some one else_, even before his own people, might cometo take little Roy away--some one who once already had visited thiscellar. Before his call there was no resistance possible. With onemagic touch, this great, awful, and mysterious _some one_ would closethe blue eyes and still the baby heart and--yes--yes--yes--break herheart for ever. A few big, heavy tears fell from her eyes at theterrible thought, but she wiped them away, dreading to disturb thesleeping child.
It was evening when little Roy awoke, and Hannah perceived with freshterror that there was another change in him. He looked at her without ashade or gleam of recognition; he no longer called her red face pretty;he screamed at the sight of it, and cried often and wildly for Faith,who Hannah hoped he had forgotten.
"Fate, Fate, come to 'Oy. 'Oy want 'oo vevy much, vevy much."
Hannah was at her wit's end. She no longer feared discovery. She laidthe child on the bed, and, pulling out the box which was hiddenunderneath, she took out again his little blue frock, his pretty shoes,and white pinafore. These she dressed him in, and he was pleased forthe minute, and stroked the white pinafore, and called it "Pitty,pitty."
There came a knock at the door as she fastened the button into the lastlittle shoe.
"Dat's Fate knocking," said little Roy, raising his eyes solemnly to herface.
Hannah felt it might be, but she had become indifferent. She got up,and, with the child in her arms, went to open the door. It was notFaith, however, but the woman from over the way--the woman from whom shehad received the drops.
"I can't stay a minute, neighbour," she said; "but I thought it butright to tell yer as them drops they ha' done fur my babby--least wayI'm feared as they ha' done fur her. She wor tuk wid convulsions lastevening, and when the doctor come he said it wor the drops. He smelledto 'em and tasted 'em, and he said as there wor poison in 'em; and hethrew 'em, bottle and h'all, out of winder. He said as it wor well the'ooman as sold 'em had made off to 'Mericy, fur she had done wot mighttransport her. He may save my babby, but he ain't sure. I jest comeh'over to ask yer to go and tell the other mother."
"This yere's the other mother, and this yere's the child," said Hannah,pushing Roy forward where what light there was might fall upon his whiteface. "So you ere the one as ha' killed my lad. Ay, but I'll be evenwid yer, see ef I ain't."
"I meant no harm indeed, neighbour. I did it fur the best," said thepoor woman, shrinking from Hannah's wild and angry eyes. "I'm mainsorry fur yer. I never guessed as you had a child of yer h'own. Ithought you had only that wee Davie wot died last spring. But,howsomedever, that ere young 'un don't look so bad as mine. Take him toa doctor at once. I'm real, real sorry as I did him an injury."
"Wot doctor?" said Hannah eagerly. "I'll furgive yer, neighbour, efyer'll help me to save him. Wot's the name o' the doctor?"
"The doctor wot is saving mine is called Slade, he lives in TummillStreet, half a mile away; go to him at once, he may be to home now."
The woman went away, and Hannah lost not an instant in acting on theadvice given to her. She wrapped her old shawl round little Ro
y, andforgetting even to close her cellar door, went out. The fog was lessthick, and the gas made the place far brighter than it had been by day.Hannah walked briskly, for little Roy had laid his heavy head on hershoulder, and he felt cold in her arms. But she walked with hope goingbefore and by her side. If the neighbour's baby, who was so much worsethan Roy, might yet recover, why surely he might. Her heart danced atthe thought. Yes, God was not going to snatch this second treasureaway. How very good she would be in future for such a loving mercy asthis! She reached the doctor's door, saw the name on