Page:The New Monthly Magazine - Volume 100.djvu/61

 Rh He left the town, and went into the country. There was a voice in his soul which urged him to reform. "Return, return!" it said; "return, for there is yet time!" But another voice also spoke—that of the demon which enslaved him; and that demon was—. Unhappily he then fell in with a depraved wretch—a villain experienced in crime—an escaped convict. They wandered about among the peasantry, and begged; but every door was closed against his companion, with unmistakable signs of terror and distrust.

One summer night they had taken shelter in a stable, and he had fallen fast asleep. He was awakened by his comrade. "Get up," said he; "men will give us nothing—the Lord must help us therefore." He thought the man alluded to some intended theft, and accompanied him without the least reluctance. They stole along the gardens and fences on towards the churchyard. He stopped his guide.

"What are we to do here?" he asked, with uneasiness. "You surely will not"

"What?" asked the other, laughing.

"Oh, let the dead rest in peace!"

"Fool!" cried the convict. "Do you think I am going to meddle with the dead? Follow me!" And he scaled the walls of the churchyard, and broke open the Gothic door of the church. Now he understood what his companion meant to do; but his heart beat as if it would have started out of his breast. As he went up the aisle, he felt as if he had lead in his shoes—as if the flooring held him back at every step—as if it were a whole mile to reach the altar. He had not entered the house of God since the day he had been there to take upon himself his baptismal vow, and dedicate his life to his Creator; and now—now he stood there to plunder! His hands trembled violently as he held open the sack for his comrade, who cast into it the silver cups, the silver salvers, and everything that he could find of value; and had it not been for fear of his ferocious associate, he would assuredly have thrown down the sack and fled, for he thought that the picture of Christ over the altar looked earnestly and reprovingly at him. When his companion looked up from his sacrilegious work, and observed his eyes fixed, as it were, by some fearful fascination on the picture, he nodded to it in a scoffing manner, and then closed the sack, and left the church.

When they were out of it, the prisoner breathed more freely; and when they placed themselves on a tombstone to divide the booty, he received without hesitation the portion that his comrade chose to allot to him. They buried their treasure in the earth, and separated. But the massive altar-plate could not easily be disposed of. He was in want; he begged from door to door, but he was driven from them all; so he had again recourse to stealing. Since the night that he had been drawn into robbing the church, he had felt that he was an outcast from the whole world—an outcast from God himself. He knew that punishment was sure to overtake him, and he was miserable. His companion in guilt was soon after arrested; he confessed all, and they were both imprisoned, and put to hard labour.

But he had not yet quite lost all hope. He determined to work in future for his daily bread. He came out of gaol a half-savage, half-frightened being—lonely and deserted—bearing upon him that brand of