Chrissie could not ask God to take care of him; for had he not been taken in the very act of breaking God's commandments? There was no one, therefore, to stand between him and the unknown horrors that were coming nearer every moment. There was no refuge, no Saviour for him. He had offended God. A strange sound somewhere in the prison jarred upon his ear, and with a scream of terror, which rang shrilly out into the quiet night, Chrissie lost his senses, and fell like one dead on the stone floor. CHAPTER VI A True Man CHRISTMAS WILLIAMS, after locking the strong, heavy door on his little grandson, had gone back to his house, having no longer the desire to spend a quiet, loitering hour in his garden. The smouldering passion, which had burst into so sudden a flame, was not yet subsiding. He had held his grandson in his hand, between his arms, had had his little face close beside his own; yet he had neither embraced nor kissed him. In the depths of his nature he was longing secretly to do so, and to claim the bold, brave little rascal for his own. When the lad turned to him and said, "Don't let mother know; it would break her heart," his pride had well-nigh given way. But he had held out so long that it was like tearing up the roots of an old tree to yield now. What would the world say, if he went back from his word? How he would be jeered at if Easter was seen going from his door to those canting meetings! He had some vague idea of an ancient magistrate who had doomed his own son to death, because he had sworn so to punish the offenders against the laws. He had heard read in church how Saul had pronounced the same fatal sentence upon his eldest son, Jonathan: "God do so and more also: for thou shalt surely die, Jonathan," said Saul. These were men true to their word. How could he look his neighbours in the face if he meted out one measure of punishment to one thief and another to his grandson? But for one of his own blood to go to jail! Christmas Williams' grandson a jailbird! He wished earnestly he had not been so hard on the young rascals who had robbed his orchard before, so that he might have had a decent pretext for letting off Chrissie. He did not doubt that it would break Easter's heart, and he had merely wished to break her will. They said lads never got over the shameful fact of having been sent to jail; that it clung to them for life. His own experience taught him pretty much the same lesson; he had never known such a lad recover from the disgrace and become a thoroughly respectable man. He could count half a dozen instances. The shadow of the jail stretched itself all across their after lives. If he had only given the last young thief a few stripes, and sent him about his business, he might have done the same for Chrissie.