“Looking forward, he saw Faithful before him upon his journey.”—_Pilgrim’s Progress._ A few hours afterwards, as Charles was sitting in his own room, amusing himself with his pencil, he was joined by his tutor, who looked weary and pale, as if suffering from exertion and excitement. “I hope that you have found out who beat the poor boy so cruelly, and have given him up to justice,” exclaimed Charles. “The man whom I suspect is in custody,” replied the clergyman, sinking wearily down on a chair. “I find that Mark is asleep; ’tis the best thing for him.” “Yes, poor fellow, he has been sleeping for the last hour. The surgeon is to call again in the evening. But you look exceedingly tired, dear sir; let me bring you a glass of wine.” “No, Charles, thank you; it is not wine that I require. I am full of anxious thought, my dear boy.” And he passed his hand across his pale forehead. “Anxious thought for Mark?” inquired Charles. “No; rather anxious thought concerning you.” “Well, that’s odd,” said the boy, looking at him with a surprised smile; “you seemed pretty easy about me in the morning, and I assure you that I have been most harmlessly employed since you were away, first looking after Mark, and then drawing a plan of a church.” “Let me see it,” said the clergyman, holding out his hand. “Oh, it is not finished, so you must make allowance,” replied Charles, looking at his own performance, however, with no dissatisfied air. “I shall very probably make plenty of alterations and improvements, as it will be more than nine years before I can carry out my plans; but I’ve such a glorious design in my head—something that I will do when I come of age and have my own money!” Charles was too much engrossed with his project to notice the grave, almost sad, expression on the features of his tutor; so he ran on in his animated manner,— “You know what a long way my village is from the church, and how seldom the clergyman can visit my poor people. Well, I am determined to build a church of my own, a large, handsome church, with the sittings all free; and you shall be the clergyman, my own dear Mr. Ewart, and live in the Castle with me all my life! Do you not approve of my plan?” added the boy, looking into his face with a bright smile. “Man proposes, God disposes,” said Mr. Ewart, laying his hand affectionately upon the shoulder of his pupil. Charles felt disappointed. “I thought that you would have been so much pleased,” cried he; “I am sure that you wish me to try to serve the Lord.” “Most assuredly,” replied the clergyman; “but the Lord himself will choose out the way in which we are to serve him. Do you remember the young man who came to our Saviour, and asked him what he should do to inherit eternal life?” “Ah! the one who went away sorrowing, because he had great possessions.”