"
And with some vague purpose stirring within him, he went swiftly on
until he reached a great thoroughfare, nearly deserted now, but
echoing occasionally to a quick step as some one hurried home to his
warm fireside.
"A little money, sir, for a sick child and a starving woman;" and
with outstretched hand Walter arrested an old man. But he only
wrapped his furs still closer and passed on, saying sternly,--
"I have nothing for vagrants. Go to work, young man."
A woman poorly clad in widow's weeds passed at that moment, and, as
the beggar fell back from the rich man's path, she dropped a bit of
silver in his hand, saying with true womanly compassion,--
"Heaven help you! it is all I have to give."
"I'll beg no more," muttered Walter, as he turned away burning with
shame and indignation; "I'll _take_ from the rich what the poor so
freely _give._ God pardon me; I see no other way, and they must not
starve."
With a vague sense of guilt already upon him, he stole into a more
unfrequented street and slunk into the shadow of a doorway to wait
for coming steps and nerve himself for his first evil deed.
Glancing up to chide the moonlight for betraying him, he started;
for there, above the snow-clad roofs, rose the cross upon the tower.
Hastily he averted his eyes, as if they had rested on the mild,
reproachful countenance of a friend.
Far up in the wintry sky the bright symbol shone, and from it seemed
to fall a radiance, warmer than the moonlight, clearer than the
starlight, showing to that tempted heart the darkness of the yet
uncommitted wrong.
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