Adventures of a Despatch Rider | Page 5

shall we be to hide our eyes and stop our ears from all that goes on without in the till with our little friend.
It is about midnight, the noisy guests are gone, the people of the house are in bed, and we may now venture forth from our hiding-place to look through the chink in the door. It is a clear frosty night. The moon, just rising, is brightly reflected in the water. The stars are looking silently down on the sleeping town. Castle Cornet rises gloomily out of the sea. The moonlit sky, which shows us its outline only, leaves much to the imagination. We may fancy it a frowning fortress of modern days; or we may go back two hundred years, and think we see the ruin which told of its nine-years' siege. But we would rather think of Castle Cornet as we know it now, with its old keep standing as a monument of bygone days; or better still, we would thank the rising moon for veiling it in such solemn mystery, and would let our fancy share the rest which seems to pervade all around, while we enjoy the perfect stillness. There is not a sound, except the ripple of the water. Houses, streets, ships, men, women, and children, all seem resting peacefully in the silent night. But, hark! there was a sound of cracking from the window! Again and again we hear it, and whispering too outside. A few moments more, and the window is opened, and two men have crept in. They are some of the guests of the evening come to recover thus what they and their companions have wasted here to-night, that they may have it to waste once more. The till was quickly rifled, and at a slight noise overhead the thieves beat a precipitate retreat, and, in their haste, dropped our Sixpence in the street outside. Happy little Sixpence! to have escaped such hands; better to lie on the cold, hard pavement, curtained by the freezing air, than stay to be used as the fruits of theft invariably are.
It was only just light when a little girl, whose rosy cheeks told that the country air had kissed them that morning, passed by with a basket on her arm nearly as big as herself. Her bright eyes soon spied the little piece of money, and with a dart she caught it up; but, like an honest girl, looked round to see if any one had dropped it. There was nobody near but a dirty, good-tempered-looking coalheaver, who, seeing her perplexity, said, "It must have been there all night, for nobody but me has passed this morning; so you may keep it, if you like." Quite content, she tripped away with her basket to join her mother in the market, and tell of her good fortune.
Being a wise little maiden, Mary Falla did not spend her money that day, but took it home all safe and sound, to gain time for consideration on so important a subject. No selfish thoughts mingled with her calculations, and therefore she very soon came to the decision that it should go towards a pair of stockings for her grandmother; and happy in the hope of giving pleasure, she only longed for the accumulation of a little store sufficient to buy the necessary materials, and enable her to begin her work. But even sixpences are not to be picked up every day, and when a month had passed, only one penny had been added to the fund. Just at this time there was a sermon one Sunday morning for the same new church of which Miss Crawford had spoken to her brother. Mrs. Falla was one of the few who were to be found regularly in their places in church; and Mary, who was always with her mother, heard the sermon. We cannot boast of our little heroine that she always listened to the sermon; sometimes she did not understand it, sometimes she did not find it interesting; but this sermon she did find interesting, and liked very much, for it was about a church which she saw every day of her life; and it told how much the church was wanted by sick and old people who could not reach the parish church; and Mary knew she liked to go to church, and was very sorry for her old grandmother, and many others whom she had heard regret the distance. As they walked home she seemed to have something very interesting to think about, for she dropped behind, and kept her eyes fixed on the ground in a manner most unusual with this merry little maiden; at last, however, she settled the question to her own satisfaction, and ran up to her mother,--
"_Ma m��re_, don't you