162

RETURNS ALONG THE SHORE.

"Your moder, did you say, my littel friend? if you want to go to France to do good to your moder, you must be de bon fils-de good son; so you shall go me in my bateau."

wid

"O, thank you, kind Frenchman," said John, taking his hand and shaking it, and pressing it to his bosom, so overjoyed that he scarcely knew what he did or what he said; "then I will come to the harbor by four to-morrow, and you will be there to take me; I shall be sure to find you."

"Oui, yes," returned the Frenchman, "you may come, but be sure you do not be too late after; you must be quite positivement a littel before four, because I would not lose de marais, dat is to say, de what you cali-de tide, for de universe." So saying, he walked away in the direction of Dover town, leaving John to pursue his way home to the hut under the cliffs.

By this time the twilight had gradually given way to the coming on of night; and John Barton had been so earnestly engaged in talking, and arranging his plan of going to France, that he had not perceived the increasing darkness. The sea that lay calmly before him, and the wide heavens that were above him, were both so exactly the same deep blue color, that they seemed to touch and be one vast space, excepting that the waters beneath now and then broke into little white sparkles on the tops of the waves, and the sky over his head was bright with many stars. The cliffs around, with their white fronts stretching down towards the beach, looked cold and ghastly, and there was scarcely a sound to be beard but the flapping wings of a solitary sea-gull, and the distant cry of the sailors, keeping time to their pulling altogether, as they hauled in their cables.

EVENING VIEW OF THE SEA.

163

Little John could not help stopping for a moment to look round upon a scene, which, although seen by him every day, yet seemed now to look particularly beautiful, and at the same time of a kind of awful loveliness. Now that he stood quite alone, and had time to think, he felt that he had just done a very bold thing, in undertaking to make so long a voyage of his own accord, and without having asked the advice of any one, no, not even the advice of his own mother. And then came the thought of what she would say when she found what he had done. "I know," thought he, “I am doing right, for I am trying to do good to my mother; and perhaps if I were to have asked her leave first, she would have been afraid to let such a little boy as I am go all alone, and with strangers, too; but then, no one would hurt such a little fellow as I, I am sure; and then she would think, that I should never be able to travel in France, because I have no money, and I can't speak French, which I have heard every body speaks in France, even the little boys and girls; and she would be afraid I should have no bed, and be obliged to lie in the fields, and then she would perhaps forbid me to go, which I should be very sorry for, because I should not like to disobey her; yet all the time I should know I ought to go, for though there will be a great many difficulties to be sure, yet I feel that if I try hard and do my best to get through them and help myself, that God will be so good and kind as to take care of me." Little John, as he thought of all this, looked over the blue waters, and felt the tears come in his eyes, and a kind of swelling sensation come over his breast, and it seemed to him as if he had never prayed so earnestly in all his life, though he could not say a word. Just then he recollected that it must be

164

CONVERSATION AT SUPPER.

very late, and that he had stayed away from home so long that his mother would be uneasy; so he ran as quickly as he could towards the hut, determining that he had better not mention his intention of going to his mother at all.

"Why, Johnny, dear," said she, as he bounced into the cottage quite out of breath, “what a long time you have been away. I suppose neighbor Haul kept you."

John felt inclined to say, "Yes, mother," but he knew it would not be quite the truth, so he said, "I stayed a little while talking with Bill Haul, mother, and I stayed the rest of the time on the beach; but if you please, mother, I had rather you wouldn't ask me what I stayed there for."

"Very well, dear," said his mother; "no harm, I dare say."

"No, indeed, mother," answered John; and they sat down to their supper of dried fish, onions, and brown bread.

"What ails you, child? a'n't you hungry?" said his mother, observing that he cut off his usual portion of bread and fish, but that, instead of eating it at once, he took only a small piece of each, and put by the

rest.

"Thank'ee, mother, I don't wish the whole of it tonight," said John, for he thought he should want something to take with him the next morning, and he did not like to deprive his mother of any more than he could help, as she could so ill afford to spare it. And then he was still more glad that he had not told his mother of his intended voyage, for even if she had allowed him to go, she would have given him every thing she had in the house, and left herself entirely without food.

JOHN LEAVES HOME.

165

When the time came for going to bed, and little John wished his mother "good night," as she placed her hand as usual on his head, and said, "God bless you, my comfort," he again felt the swelling sensation at his breast, and was very much inclined to throw himself into her arms, and tell her all he intended to do for her; but he checked himself, and saying, “May He be a friend to us," kissed his mother fervently and tenderly, and ran hastily into his own little room, where he threw himself on his straw mattress, and was soon soundly asleep.

The first thing when he awoke, he was alarmed to see that it was already light, and feared that the sun must be risen. He jumped up, put on his clothes as quickly as he could, put up his two remaining checked shirts in a bundle together, with two more pair of gray stockings, and tying his best handkerchief (which his mother had given him for a keepsake) round her spinning-wheel, as a sort of farewell remembrance, for he could not write, he left the cottage and ran as fast as he could along the sea-beach, eating part of the remainder of his supper as he went. It was not until he had reached the harbor, that he found the sun was already up, for the cliffs hindered him from seeing it while he was on the beach underneath them; he was afraid it was very late, and asked a man, who was standing with his hands in his pockets looking at a crab that lay kicking on its back among some seaweed, what o'clock it was. The man carelessly answered, without looking up, "Past four."

"O, dear, I shall be too late; what shall I do!" exclaimed little John. "Master," continued he, turning again to the man, who was now scraping some sand with his foot over the sprawling crab, "I say, master,

166

VISITS BILL HAUL.

have you seen a Frenchman about here this morning?"

The man stared for a moment full in little John's face, and said, "Lord, how should I know;" and then returned again to his stupid cruel amusement.

"O, dear me, what shall I do! but I had better not stay here," thought little John; "I must do as well as I can, and try to find him out for myself. He went towards a few men whom he saw at a little distance, who seemed to be watching some fishing-boats going As he pushed into the midst of them, he felt himself touched on the shoulder, and on looking round, he saw his friend, the Frenchman.

out.

"Ah, my littel ami, my littel friend," said he, "you are very good time here, I see."

"O, I am glad I have found you; I was afraid I should be too late, for a man told me just now that it was past four o'clock."

No, no such ting," answered the Frenchman; "it is half an hour past tree only."

"O, I am so glad," replied John, "for then there will be time for me to run and leave a message with Bill Haul for my mother, who, I am afraid, will be frightened, when she finds I have gone away."

The Frenchman agreed, telling him to mind and be back in time; and so John went to Bill Haul, and told him all about his intended journey to France, begging him to go every day and see his mother, and be kind to her, for his sake, while he was away. Bill Haul promised all this, for he loved little John Barton for his good nature and obligingness, so that when John returned to the harbor he felt much happier than he did before, now that he knew his mother would know where he was, and that she would have some one to