The School Friends Part 13

Only have faith that Jesus died for _you_--that He bore _your_ sins upon the accursed tree--that He nailed them there, and put them out of G.o.d's sight, and give Him your willing, loving obedience! Seek in His Word with faithful prayer to learn His will, and His Holy Spirit will enlighten your minds, enable you to comprehend what you read or hear, and will aid you in obeying His commands."

Mary and Arthur were among the most attentive of those a.s.sembled round the preacher.

Much more he said. Another hymn was raised, a prayer offered.

Mary had sat with her eyes on the ground. She looked up, and saw Harry Acton by her side.

"I rejoice that you have been here," he said. "I will, with your leave, accompany you home."

Mary said, "Pray do."

"It is humbling to our human pride to be called on to acknowledge that we are outcast and rebellious sinners," he remarked, "but it is a truth all must be convinced of before they can understand the value of G.o.d's plan of salvation."

"I do feel it most deeply," murmured Mary; "and had I gone away without hearing the gospel part of the address, I should indeed have been most miserable."

Arthur made no remark, but as soon as he reached home, producing a Bible, he asked Acton to help him to refer to many of the pa.s.sages which had been quoted.

"Remember, Arthur, we must not only search the Scriptures, but search them diligently, with earnest prayer for enlightenment," observed Harry.

They did so. Mr Maitland was from home, and the three thus sat together without interruption, searching, as Harry remarked, "whether these things were so." It was the commencement of a new era in the lives of the brother and sister. No longer legalists and formalists, as they had hitherto been, they became true and humble followers of Jesus, and found a happiness and contentment they had hitherto not known.

CHAPTER SIX.

Mr Maitland gladly allowed Mary to accept Harry Acton, who had asked her to become his wife. Arthur, on this, entreated his father to allow him to go to college.

"I would rather that one of my own sons should have taken the farm after me; but as Harry seems willing to occupy your place, and as I am afraid you will never give your heart to the business, I must let you follow the bent of your inclination," answered Mr Maitland.

Arthur at once, therefore, went to college. As his father could make him but a small allowance, he entered as a sizar. He worked, however, so diligently, that though he did not possess the brilliant talents of Hugh, he made good progress. Hugh had not only supported himself, but when he left the university, had saved sufficient to enter as a law student at Lincoln's Inn. Having not only eaten his way through his terms, but studied hard all the time, he was at length called to the Bar, and was shortly afterwards engaged as junior counsel in a case relating to the purchase of a property in his own county. His senior counsel having been taken ill, the cause remained in his bands. Having frequently been in the house about which the dispute had arisen--he was well acquainted with the locality--he brought forward witnesses to prove what he knew to be the truth. He had thus an opportunity of exhibiting his powers as a speaker, and triumphantly won. He had no lack after this of briefs, and in a short time became known among the solicitors on the circuit as a rising barrister, in whose hands they could safely commit the causes of their clients.

Mr Maitland was proud of his son's success, and welcomed him whenever he could spare time for a visit.

Between Hugh and Harry Acton there was, however, no sympathy. Hugh looked upon Harry as a very worthy young man, to whom he was happy enough to see his sister married, but thought him somewhat weak, and too much absorbed in his religious notions. Harry, on the other hand, considered Hugh a hard, worldly man, whose sole aim was to push his way in the world, forgetful of all higher spiritual matters. Still they were very good friends, and Harry took every opportunity of putting the truth in a loving and affectionate way before Hugh.

"Very good," answered Hugh one day to some of his remarks, "but life is short, and those never get on who waste time on subjects which interfere with their lawful pursuits. I want to be a judge some day, and when I am not studying law cases or my briefs, I must take a little relaxation, and should break down if I attended to the matters that interest you."

"But, my dear Hugh, agreeing that life is short, I argue that for that very reason we should employ it in a way to prepare ourselves for the event which must occur at its termination. Its very brevity proves to me that it is only a portion, and a very small one, of our existence, and that it is given us to prepare for another and a holier state of existence. As we employ it here, so shall we be better fitted for that higher, and what may be most glorious, state."

"Very well argued, Harry!" said Hugh; "I will consider more than I have hitherto done the plan which you say the Bible contains for man's redemption from the sinful and rebellious condition in which you argue he lives here below."

Harry had more than once clearly placed G.o.d's scheme of salvation before Hugh, who had listened to it with a dull, if not inattentive ear.

Hugh, however, went back into the world to enjoy its amus.e.m.e.nts, and to attend to his legal duties, and did not allow Harry's remarks to trouble him.

Arthur, meantime, took his degree, and as soon as he was of age, entered the ministry. He had, however, no interest, and was not likely to obtain preferment. He was, indeed, indifferent to it, provided he could have the opportunity of preaching the gospel, and winning souls for Christ. His worldly acquaintances declared that he had no high or lofty aims, and Hugh pitied him for being content to go through life as a humble drudge. His Christian friends considered his aims were as n.o.ble and lofty as any human being could possess. His earnest desire was to gain subjects for his Master's kingdom. He was ready to preach the gospel at all times, and in all places, wherever he could get men to listen. He felt as earnest when pressing one poor lost sinner to accept the truth and be saved, as when addressing a large mult.i.tude, hanging on his words; and he made his way into hospitals with that object in view, looking upon the souls of the humble and wretched as of as much value in G.o.d's sight as those of the rich and powerful. He was at length appointed chaplain to the prison of the county gaol, a post which many would consider as among the least hopeful for winning souls. Arthur Maitland performed his duties in no perfunctory way; he entered upon them with all the zeal which the love of souls can alone excite, influenced by G.o.d's Holy Spirit. Here, month after month, he laboured with untiring energy. Unhappily, the prison cells were at that time always full; and many who entered them in dark ignorance, went forth rejoicing in that risen Saviour, against whose loving laws they had long been rebels. Arthur would seldom even allow himself a short visit to Mary and her husband, much as they rejoiced whenever he was able to come.

Mr Maitland continued, as heretofore, engaged in his agricultural pursuits, and as stern an opponent of the smugglers as before; he was, indeed, more than ever incensed against them, on account of a fearful outrage which had lately been committed on a Custom-house officer residing at a neighbouring village. This officer, Bursey by name, had been always a conscientious and zealous servant of Government. He had mortally offended the smugglers by his activity. On this account Mr Maitland held him in much esteem, and had constantly afforded him support. On a dark night in winter, Mr Bursey, after he had retired for some hours to bed, was aroused by a loud rapping at the door. On looking through the cas.e.m.e.nt of his chamber, he perceived two men, whose countenances he could not distinguish because of the gloom of midnight.

He inquired their business, when one of them informed him that he had discovered a large quant.i.ty of smuggled goods in a barn at no great distance, to which he and his companion would lead him on the promise of a certain reward. A bargain was immediately struck, and Mr Bursey, telling his wife what had occurred, and that he would soon be back, unsuspicious of danger, hastily clothed himself, and descended unarmed into the pa.s.sage; and on opening the door, his brains were instantly dashed out on the threshold. The other inmates of the house were aroused, but before they could reach the hall door the murderers had fled. There could be no doubt that some members of the daring smugglers who had so long infested the neighbourhood were guilty of the murder, but who they were it seemed hopeless to discover. Every effort was made to trace them; Mr Maitland was among the most active engaged in the search. Hitherto, however, the culprits had escaped, and it was supposed that they had left the country.

All hopes of finding them had been abandoned. At first Mr Maitland, knowing the feeling of hatred he had excited against himself, though a brave man, thought it prudent to avoid riding to any distance from home after nightfall. By degrees, however, he grew less cautious; and if business called him out, he did not hesitate to delay to any hour that was convenient. He had one day gone to Christchurch, and it was somewhat late before he mounted his horse to return home. The friend he was visiting had begged him to stop till the next morning.

"If you fancy that I fear the smugglers, set your mind at rest; I am not likely to be attacked, and my mare will give them the go-bye if they attempt to do so."

He set off. Darkness came on, and a storm of thunder and lightning that had long been brewing broke over his head. While pa.s.sing through a thick part of the forest, four men suddenly sprang out on him, and a couple of bullets whistled by his head. Putting spurs to his horse, he was das.h.i.+ng on, when his bridle was seized, and he was dragged from his saddle. A heavy blow on the head almost stunned him, but he retained sufficient consciousness to distinguish the voice of another man who had suddenly rushed up.

"Who have you got there?" asked the new-comer.

"Old Maitland, and we will give him his deserts," replied one of the men with a fierce oath.

"Hold! hold! don't kill him!" cried the man.

It was too late. One of the ruffians let the b.u.t.t end of his pistol fall with a tremendous blow, which made the unfortunate farmer fall helpless to the ground. A cry of horror echoed through the forest.

The murderers, satisfied that they had performed their deed of vengeance, hastened from the spot.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Harry Acton and his wife anxiously sat up till a late hour, waiting the return of Mr Maitland. When he did not appear the next morning, his son-in-law rode over to Christchurch to inquire for him. Harry became alarmed on hearing that he had left that place, and hastened to the nearest magistrate. A search was at once made in all directions. Mr Maitland's body was at length found. It was evident how he had been killed, and it was at once suspected that some of the gang of smugglers who had murdered Bursey were guilty of the deed. While the party were waiting for a cart to convey the body to Christchurch, a man was caught sight of among the trees in the distance. On finding that he was observed, he took to flight. He was chased, and at length overtaken.

His dress showed that he was a seaman, probably a smuggler, his countenance was haggard, his eyes bloodshot. He made no attempt to defend himself, though he had a brace of pistols in his belt, and they were both loaded. As he was being dragged along, blood was observed on his coat, and blood had flowed from the victim's head. His name was asked.

"Geoferey Marwood," he answered promptly.

"What do you know about the death of this man?" he was next asked.

"I did not kill him," he answered.

"You will have a hard job to prove to the contrary," observed one of his captors, as they dragged the unhappy man along.

Mr Maitland's body was conveyed to Christchurch, where an inquest was held, when a verdict of murder was returned against Geoferey Marwood, and others not in custody. He, notwithstanding, protested his innocence, and accused four others of being guilty of the crime.

Warrants were therefore issued for their apprehension, while he was conveyed to Winchester gaol to await his trial. Notwithstanding his protestations of innocence, it was generally supposed in the neighbourhood that Marwood was guilty of the murder of Mr Maitland, and that he had accused the other men in the hopes of prolonging his own life while search was being made for them. Though, however, they for a considerable time evaded the officers of justice, the whole were at length apprehended and conveyed to gaol. For many weeks the wretched man known as Geoferey Marwood lay in the felon's cell. Arthur Maitland frequently visited him, though he could not do so without horror as the supposed murderer of his father. Yet his sense of duty overcame all other considerations, and he endeavoured to address him as he would have done any other prisoner. The man, however, seemed to have hardened his heart, and to have an utter indifference to his fate.

"I have said that I did not kill the old man; but if it is proved that I did it, they will hang me, I suppose, and there will be another man less in the world. It is no matter, for I have nothing to live for; if I had, I should not have been taken in the way I was."

"But you have a soul, and that must live for ever," urged Arthur. "If you die impenitent, still refusing to accept G.o.d's offer of mercy, which He holds out even to the worst of sinners, that soul must spend eternity in misery unspeakable, cast out from His presence."

Arthur then read to him the account of the Crucifixion, and of the Saviour's gracious promise to the penitent thief.

"Great as is the crime that you are accused of, even if guilty, though man may not pardon you, G.o.d has promised to do so if you turn to Him and accept His offer. `The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin,'"

"I tell you I am not guilty of that crime," answered Marwood. "I have done a number of things I wish that I had not; but if they choose to hang me, they may--that's all I have to say about it."

Still, although Arthur had seldom met with a prisoner who appeared more hardened or more indifferent to his fate, he persisted in visiting him, and placing before him the truths of the gospel.

He had endeavoured to show him what sin is, how hateful it is in G.o.d's sight, and he had warned him that G.o.d is a G.o.d of justice, and can by no means overlook iniquity. He had faithfully placed before him the fearful condemnation which he would bring down upon himself if dying impenitent. He now spoke to him of G.o.d's long-suffering and kindness, of His mercy, and readiness to forgive. He inquired whether he remembered a fond mother and kind father whom he had offended.

"Surely when you did so, and went back to them and expressed your sorrow, they received you again, and forgave you."

"I never remember my mother," answered the prisoner. "My father was a good man, but he was stern, and because I disobeyed him and joined some wild companions, I was told that he would not forgive me, and so I ran off and kept out of his way. I found out afterwards that he thought me dead. It was too late then to go back, for I had done so many things which he would have condemned that I could not face him."

Just at that moment the warders arrived at the door to conduct him to the court. His trial was about to commence. He and the other four men accused of the murder of Mr Maitland were placed in the dock. The junior counsel for the prosecution was Hugh Maitland. As had occurred at the commencement of his career, his senior counsel was unable, on account of sudden illness, to attend. His private feelings, as well as his professional interest, induced him to exert all his talents to procure the condemnation of the prisoners, whom he believed to be guilty. Every effort had been made to obtain proof against them. Of this they well knew.