A London Baby: The Story of King Roy, Page 4

utterance to a deep sigh of satisfaction, and,raising his clear, baby voice, exclaimed, in a tone of triumph:

  "'Ook, fader, 'ook!"

  Warden did look, and comprehended at a glance. His essay was hopelesslylost! He had no other copy! A quieter and better man might have feltprovocation. Into Warden's breast there entered a devil. He caught thelittle child roughly in his arms, dealt him several sharp blows, andrushed with him into the adjoining bedroom.

  "There, you bad, bad boy! Get out of my sight! I never want to see youagain." He locked the door on Roy, and might have been heard pacing upand down his sitting-room. He was in a furious rage, and would scarcelyhave minded then had any one told him that he had seriously injured hischild.

  Meanwhile the little child, stunned by the blows, terrified by therough, hard words, totally uncomprehending what he had done wrong, forFaith had many times given him old papers to tear, lay for a moment ortwo trembling on the floor. Then he began to sob loudly; then he roseto his feet. It was growing dark in the bedroom, and Roy hated thedark. He ran to the door which divided bedroom and sitting-room, and,shaking it cried loudly:

  "Yet me in--yet me in!"

  No regard was paid to his eager little voice, and his cries and distresswere redoubled. Where was Faith? What did it all mean? He wasconfused, frightened, pained. He could not comprehend how or why.Turning his back at last to the inhospitable closed door, and standing,a pitiable little object, with all his golden curls lying in a tangledmass on his forehead, he saw a welcome light in another part of theroom. This light came from the door which opened on to the passage, andwas but very seldom used. Now, through some accident, it was about aninch or two ajar.

  Roy saw the light in the passage beyond, and ran to it with a glad cry.When he got there, the thought entered his baby head that he would goand look for Faith. His father had turned him away; his father had hurthim and not been at all nice. Roy, heaving a great sob, felt he did notat all understand his father. Yes; he would go and look for Faith.When she was neither in the sitting-room nor in the bedroom she was out.He would go out to look for her, for _she_ was always very nice.

  Down step after step he stumbled, no one meeting him, no one observing.Down the long hall at the end he ran, and out through the open door.His head uncovered, his little round arms bare, he ran quickly away fromhis home. A baby of two years to be lost in the London streets!

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  When Faith came in a few moments later, she found her father pacing upand down the room. His anger and vexation were still burning hot; hewas still in his heart wishing that Roy were an older child, so that hemight punish him more severely. It was a great relief to see Faith'spale, anxious little face. Yes, without any doubt Faith was the realculprit. On Faith then should the full vials of his wrath fall.

  "See what you have done," he said; "come here, right over here, and seewhat you have done."

  Faith, her face growing a shade whiter, approached and saw the scatteredpieces of the prize essay still lying on the floor.

  "Wot h'ever is that, father?" she ventured to say.

  "What ever is that? 'tis my essay, my prize essay, that your brothertore all into bits. How dare you, how dare you, I say, disobey me andleave the child alone? You have done mischief that can never be putright, and I'll never forgive you."

  "Oh! father," said Faith piteously. She went on her knees and took someof the tiny torn fragments into her hand.

  "There! don't touch them; 'tis jest enough to madden a man, but youshall suffer. If you can't take care of the child, some one else shall.Yes, you shan't hear the last of this. Now, tell me where you havebeen this hour and more."

  "I went to Sunday-school, father. I don't know why I disobeyed you;indeed I never did it before, but I 'ad a kind of hankering to go jestonce. I left Roy asleep, and I never guessed as he 'ud wake; I thoughtI'd be back long afore, and I never guessed as you'd come home; I never,never guessed it. Oh! Indeed I'm dreadful, bitter sorry, indeed I am."

  "You have need to be; you can't even guess how angry God Almighty iswith you; you're a very, very wicked girl. There, get out of my sightgo into the bedroom, you shan't have no tea to-night."

  Faith went slowly towards the bedroom door, she opened it and shut itbehind her; she cared nothing for the punishment of going without hersupper, she was glad to be away from her father, glad to be alone withthe dreadful, dreadful weight which rested on her heart. Her father hadsaid that she was a very, very wicked girl, that no one could even guesshow angry God was with her. Yes, she believed her father; she had donewrong. It was most certainly wrong to disobey, she had disobeyed herfather's strictest command. Tears burned in her eyes, but lay too heavythere to roll down her cheeks; she sat on the floor, a little bent-upbundle of misery, and forgot Roy and every one else in the anguish ofbeing under God's displeasure. And she had been having such a happytime. How sweet that Sunday-school was! how kind the teacher, who hadwelcomed the timid child standing at the door! then how gentle and goodwere her words--all, all about Jesus and His love--all about the tendercare the great Heavenly Father takes of His little ones. Faithlistened, and when all was over, with her heart quite full of her greatquestion, she lingered behind the other scholars.

  "You will come again to my class next Sunday?" said the Sunday teacher,smiling at her.

  "I'm dreadful afeared as I can't," answered Faith. "I'd like to beyontany words, but I'm feared as I can't come no more; I only come to-day'cause I do want to know how to bring Roy to Jesus."

  "Who is Roy?" asked the teacher.

  "Please, lady dear, he's my little, little brother; he's quite a babyboy; I do want to bring him to Jesus."

  "The Bible tells us how to bring little children to the dear SaviourJesus," answered the teacher in her sweet, low voice. "But I think youneed to have it explained to you, Faith. If you can manage to come evenonce again to Sunday-school, and if you will be here just five minutesbefore the school opens, why I will come too, and tell you all about it.I am sorry I must run away now."

  She nodded and smiled at Faith, and Faith went away with a great andwonderful joy in her heart. But oh! how changed was everything now!God, who was spoken of as very loving, very forgiving, very kind atSunday-school, was dreadfully angry with her. Her father had said henever would forgive her, and Faith felt that she deserved somepunishment, for in disobeying her father she certainly had done wrong.

  Oh! what a lonely, lonely little girl she was; were it not for Roy, howwithout love and interest would her life be! but yes, she still had herdarling, precious baby boy. At the remembrance of him she raised herface, and then got up slowly from her crouching position. It was fulltime to give him his supper and put him to bed. She reproached herselfafresh for having forgotten him so long. Was it possible that he wasstill asleep on the sofa in the sitting-room! no, this could scarcely bethe case, for her father had said that he had done the incalculablemischief of tearing up his prize essay. Poor, poor little Roy, howinnocently he had committed this great crime! how often had she kept himquiet by giving him an old newspaper to tear! Yes, she, and she alone,was the only one to blame for the mischief done that night; but whoeverwas the guilty party, Roy must have his supper and go to bed; it was fartoo late already for a little child only two years old to be up. Faithmust brave her father's anger and fetch Roy from the sitting-room. Shetrembled a little as she approached the door, and thought of her sternfather's voice and manner; but though far too timid to raise even afinger to help herself, Faith was one of those who would gladly take hervery life in her hand to save or aid one whom she loved. She opened thedoor softly and looked in. Her father was seated by the table, the gasflaring high over his head; he was trying laboriously to put some of historn essay together; he heard the movement at the door, but withoutlooking up called out harshly--"Go away; I can't be disturbed."

  "Please, father, 'tis only me fur Roy. I want Roy to give him hissupper."

  "Roy ain't here. Go away, I s
ay." Faith's heart gave a great bound.No, Roy was certainly not in the room. Could she have overlooked him inthe bedroom? There was no light, except from the gas outside, in theroom. Had her father been very harsh and angry with little Roy, and hadhe crept in here and fallen asleep? She went back, struck a light witha trembling hand, and looked around her.

  No, he was not in the big bed. He was not in his own little cot. Hewas nowhere, either under the bed or on the floor.

  "Roy, Roy, little darling Roy," she called, but no sweet, gay voiceanswered to hers. Oh! where was little Roy? She went into the tinydressing-room where her father slept. No, Roy was not there.

  A horrible dread came over Faith. Where was