“No!” exclaimed Adam, with that hollow
energy by which a man resolves to impose restraint
on himself; “I will not, for all that science
ever achieved,—I will not lay this shame
on my soul! Spend this gold on thyself, trim
this room, buy thee raiment,—all that thou
needest,—I order, I command it! And
hark thee, if thou gettest more, hide it from me,
hide it well; men’s desires are foul tempters!
I never knew, in following wisdom, that I had a vice.
I wake and find myself a miser and a robber!”
And with these words he fled from the girl’s
chamber, gained his own, and locked the door.
A strange visitor.—All ages
of the world Breed world-Betters.
Sibyll, whose soft heart bled for her father, and
who now reproached herself for having concealed from
him her little hoard, began hastily to dress that
she might seek him out, and soothe the painful feelings
which the honest rudeness of Madge had aroused.
But before her task was concluded, there pealed a
loud knock at the outer door. She heard the
old housekeeper’s quivering voice responding
to a loud clear tone; and presently Madge herself
ascended the stairs to Warner’s room, followed
by a man whom Sibyll instantly recognized—for
he was not one easily to be forgotten—as
their protector from the assault of the mob.
She drew back hastily as he passed her door, and in
some wonder and alarm awaited the descent of Madge.
That venerable personage having with some difficulty
induced her master to open his door and admit the
stranger, came straight into her young lady’s
chamber. “Cheer up, cheer up, sweetheart,”
said the old woman; “I think better days will
shine soon; for the honest man I have admitted says
he is but come to tell Master Warner something that
will redound much to his profit. Oh, he is a
wonderful fellow, this same Robin! You saw how
he turned the cullions from burning the old house!”
“What! you know this man, Madge! What
is he, and who?”
Madge looked puzzled. “That is more than
I can say, sweet mistress. But though he has
been but some weeks in the neighbourhood, they all
hold him in high count and esteem. For why—it
is said he is a rich man and a kind one. He
does a world of good to the poor.”
While Sibyll listened to such explanations as Madge
could give her, the stranger, who had carefully closed
the door of the student’s chamber, after regarding
Adam for a moment with silent but keen scrutiny, thus
began,—
“When last we met, Adam Warner, it was with
satchells on our backs. Look well at me!”
“Troth,” answered Adam, languidly, for
he was still under the deep dejection that had followed
the scene with Sibyll, “I cannot call you to
mind, nor seems it veritable that our schooldays passed
together, seeing that my hair is gray and men call
me old; but thou art in all the lustihood of this
human life.”
