_Cook._ We have been looking for him this half hour, Sir; he was just before that time in the broad walk with his sister; but we cannot find what is become of him.
Mr. Sinclair appeared struck; he was silent for a minute, but his lips moved as if he was uttering a short prayer. He then inquired very earnestly, but calmly, where they had looked.
_F._ Oh, every where, every where, Sir; Oh how unhappy I am.
_Ernest._ I dare say you are, but why could not you take care of the child?
_Mr. S._ Ernest, this is not a moment to give way to anger; we must examine how it happened afterwards; but God knows where your brother is, I trust he will enable us to find him; quick, we must lose no time; I dare say he has got into the meadow.
_Mr. S._ The smallest gate easily shuts to, and a gust of wind may have closed it after he had gone through.
Ernest and his father then went into the meadow. On one side was a copse, through which there was a path, and on the other side the ground rose till it became a steep hill, and sloped down on the other side rather suddenly towards the lake.
“Cross the meadow, Ernest, and go up the hill,” said his father; “I will go round through the copse, and meet you.”
Ernest made haste, and called out, “Charles, Charles,” as he ran, for he was very fond of his little brother: “Charles, Charles, where are you? Oh, I wish I knew where you are gone.”
He then recollected what his father had said, and as he loved and feared God, he thought, “O Lord, thou knowest where Charles is gone, direct me where to find him.”
He then felt encouraged and ran on. I dare say my readers remember the beautiful text, “The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him; to all that call upon him in truth.” It is in the 145th Psalm. Yes, God hears even the youngest child who asks for his help in faith.
Ernest ran up the hill as fast as he could, though it was very steep and covered with furze bushes.
You may imagine his joy when he got near the top, and saw little Charles about two hundred yards before him, running along a very dangerous path, which was full of rough stones; on one side the ground sloped towards the wood, and on the other it was a precipice towards the lake.
Poor little Charles was crying very sadly: he stopped and wiped his eyes with his pinafore, and then ran on again, and then stopped again and cried, and then ran on again.