The clock was striking nine, but all was quiet as midnight; not a soul
stirring, not a light in the parsonage windows that he could see. He
dared not open the gate, lest the click of the latch should betray
him, so he softly climbed over; but scarcely had he dropped on the
other side of the wall before the loud barking of a dog startled
him. He cowered down behind the hay-rick, scarcely daring to breathe,
expecting each instant that the dog would spring upon him. It was
some time before the boy dared to stir, and as his courage cooled,
his thirst for revenge somewhat subsided also, till he almost
determined to return to Lamborough; but he was too tired, too cold,
too hungry,--besides, the woman would beat him for staying out so
late. What could he do? where should he go? and as the sense of his
lonely and forlorn position returned, so did also the affectionate
remembrance of his father, his hatred of his accusers, his desire to
satisfy his vengeance; and, once more, courageous through anger, he
rose, took the box from his pocket, and boldly drew one of them across
the sand-paper. It flamed; he stuck it hastily in the stack against
which he rested,--it only flickered a little, and went out. In great
trepidation, young West once more grasped the whole of the remaining
matches in his hand and ignited them, but at the same instant the dog
barked. He hears the gate open, a step is close to him, the matches
are extinguished, the lad makes a desperate effort to escape,--but a
strong hand was laid on his shoulder, and a deep calm voice inquired,
"What can have urged you to such a crime?" Then calling loudly, the
gentleman, without relinquishing his hold, soon obtained the help of
some farming men, who commenced a search with their lanterns all about
the farm. Of course they found no accomplices, nothing at all but the
handful of half-consumed matches the lad had dropped, and he all that
time stood trembling, and occasionally struggling, beneath the firm,