120 Turnaside Cottage.

 

it was not until I had entered Turnaside lane again,
that I remembered clearly the reason which had
taken me to Mr.. Hurst. Now, I must decide by
myself ; and how hard it was to do! Should I turn
informer against my own father, and disappoint his
trust in me, and perhaps, however careful I might
try to be, lay him open to suspicion, conviction,
shame, and punishment? Was it not my duty
rather to screen him? Then again, if I did not
stop it, not only would great loss be inflicted, but
bodily harm as well, which I had the power to
prevent. Suppose Master George should be burnt
to death, when I might have saved him? And even
if it did not come to that, had I any right to stand
by and see property destroyed, and do nothing to
warn the owner? “Oh! what ought I to do?” I
said, half-aloud, in my perplexity; “I have no
friend, no adviser left.’ No friend! the words
came back to me with a pang of self-reproach.
Yes, I had the best of Friends, the best of Guides,
to whom I might go. “He will direct me; I will
arise and go to Him,” I said ; and the words of the
hymn came to my mind—

“When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me !”

I went up to my room and hid my face in the
bedclothes, and prayed more earnestly than I had