"O no; this cannot be the spot, the crack is too small to admit a knife: it must be somewhere else. But I see no crack in any other part. My dear boy," continued Miss Woodford, looking into Alfred's face, "you did not let it down here." Her gentle words, accompanied as they were with a sorrowful look, melted him at once, for Alfred was not a hardened boy, and he ran off to his room, weeping all the way. "Well," said Samuel, as he returned to the parlor, "I suppose I must mark some make-believe notches on my stick with my pencil." Miss Woodford left him to his play, and went in search of her sister, the mother of the boys. Taking a seat by her side in the dining-room, she asked Mrs. Sinclair if she knew anything of the knife she had given to Alfred. "No," replied Mrs. Sinclair; "I have not seen it for some time: but I think I heard James admiring it, on Monday." "I am afraid it is lost, sister," continued Miss Woodford: "but this is not the worst part of it; I greatly fear Alfred has told an untruth about the affair." "I hope not," replied Mrs. Sinclair, with a troubled countenance; "I never knew either of my boys to be guilty of anything so shocking. Where is he?" Miss Woodford then related the whole of the circumstances, adding, "I believe Alfred has gone to his room." Mrs. Sinclair considered, for a moment, what course to pursue, and then resolved to allow her little son to remain in the retirement he had chosen, at least for some time. Samuel could not enjoy his game alone, for he saw very plainly that his brother had been guilty of a great sin; so he went into the garden, and walked up and down, feeling very melancholy. He knew that God had said that liars have their portion with those who are shut up in eternal darkness; and he felt very sorry that he had asked for the loan of the knife. After an hour or two, Mrs. Sinclair went up to converse with the guilty boy; but as she was drawing near his room she heard the sound of his voice, as if conversing with some one, and, supposing that Samuel had joined him, she stopped for a moment to ascertain from whence the voice came, when she distinctly heard Alfred saying, "Forgive my sin, heavenly Father, for Jesus Christ's sake." This was a confirmation to her of the sad fact that he was really guilty of the crime laid to his charge; at the same time it was a comfort to her to hear that he was penitent. She stepped gently back into the parlor, thankful, amid her sorrow, to find that her little boy was confessing his sin to the holy God. She could not, however, remain long absent from her erring child, but again ascending the stairs, and finding all silent, she entered the room. Alfred was sitting, bathed in tears, with two books by his side, a Bible and a prayer-book. "O, mamma!" he exclaimed, "I am ashamed to see you--I am--I am; but I will tell you all about it. O, I am so unhappy! I am afraid you will not forgive me, and I feel sure the Saviour will not."