er into his
confidence, but shrank from doing so. Then he said with forced
quietness: "If this rogue knows as much as I suspect, he can get my son
arrested."
"On a serious charge? I don't ask what it is."
"It would mean a long imprisonment, to say nothing of the humiliation,"
Featherstone answered brokenly, and was silent for a minute with the
firelight on his tense face. Then he went on with an effort: "I must
tell you what I can. Lawrence in a desperate moment injured, I had
better call it robbed, a relative of ours. The boy had got into
difficulties, but hitherto, although he had been a fool, there was a
certain generosity in his rashness. He was very hard pressed--I have
seen that since--but I can make no excuse for what he did."
"He made good afterwards," Foster interposed.
"We tried to think so, but it looks as if one can't make good. The
punishment for a wrong done, or consented to, must be borne. Well,
when I learned the truth I went to the man my son had robbed and
offered to repay him. He said he would take no money, for reasons that
I ought to grasp, and sent me away afraid, because I knew he was hard
and very just."
Featherstone paused, and Foster, who murmured a few words of awkward
sympathy, waited until he resumed; "I am a magistrate, pledged to do my
duty, but I helped my boy to escape, and the man I was afraid of did
nothing, though he knew. After a time, I went to him again, and he
gave me to understand that he would not interfere so long as Lawrence
stayed away, but must be free to take the proper line if he came back.
It's plain now that he knew my son's faults and meant to give him the
chance of overcoming them by hard work in Canada. At last, when he was
very ill, he sent for me and said I could let Lawrence know he was
forgiven."
"Ah!" said Foster, "now I understand what my partner meant."
"This was not long before you came," Featherstone continued. "It was a
wonderful relief to know the danger was over, and then you told us how
Lawrence had grown out of his folly and become a useful man. Although
we longed to see him, our satisfaction was complete. Now this letter
comes, and I fear my wife is unable to bear the strain again."
Foster was moved by his distress. Featherstone was proud and
honorable, and it must have cost him much to help his son to steal
away. Indeed, Foster thought what he had done then would always
trouble him, and after all it had proved useless.
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