Vernon was watching for his brother at the window, and seeing Duncan pass by, ran down to ask him, “If he knew where Eric was?”

“No,” said Duncan; “last time I saw him was on the shore.  We bathed together, and I remember his clothes were lying by mine when I dressed.  But I hav’n’t seen him since.  If you like we’ll go and look for him.  I daresay he’s on the beach somewhere.”

But they found no traces of him there; and when they returned with this intelligence, his mother got so agitated that it required all her husband’s firm gentleness to support her sinking spirits.  There was enough to cause anxiety, for Vernon repeatedly ran out to ask the boys who were passing if they had seen his brother, and the answer always was, that they had left him bathing in the sea.

Meanwhile our young friends, having caught several crabs, suddenly noticed by the sun that it was getting late.

“Good gracious, Edwin,” said Eric, pulling out his watch, “it’s half-past three; what have we been thinking of?  How frightened they’ll be at home;” and running back as fast as they could, they reached the house at five o’clock, and rushed into the room.

“Eric, Eric,” said Mrs. Williams faintly, “where have you been? has anything happened to you, my child?”

“No, mother, nothing.  I’ve only been crabfishing with Russell, and we forgot the time.”

“Thoughtless boy,” said his father, “your mother has been in an agony about you.”

Eric saw her pale face and tearful eyes, and flung himself in her arms, and mother and son wept in a long embrace.  “Only two months,” whispered Mrs. Williams, “and we shall leave you, dear boy, perhaps forever.  O do not forget your love for us in the midst of new companions.”

The end of term arrived; this time Eric came out eighth only instead of first, and, therefore, on the prize day, was obliged to sit among the crowd of undistinguished boys.  He saw that his parents were disappointed, and his own ambition was grievously mortified.  But he had full confidence in his own powers, and made the strongest resolutions to work hard the next half-year, when he had got out of “that Gordon’s” clutches.

The Williams’ spent the holidays at Fairholm, and now, indeed, in the prospect of losing them, Eric’s feelings to his parents came out in all their strength.  Most happily the days glided by, and the father and mother used them wisely.  All their gentle influence, all their deep affection, were employed in leaving on the boy’s heart lasting impressions of godliness and truth.  He learnt to feel that their love would encircle him for ever with its heavenly tenderness, and their pure prayers rise for him night and day to the throne of God.

The day of parting came, and most bitter and heartrending it was.  In the wildness of their passionate sorrow, Eric and Vernon seemed to hear the sound of everlasting farewells.  It is God’s mercy that ordains how seldom young hearts have to endure such misery.