Tom broke into a sudden laugh.

“They like that toll well enough, father, I can tell you; else they could go round the other way.  Why, you yourself salute the farmers’ little wenches on the cheek sometimes—­I have seen you do it; and why not I the older ones?”

The Squire looked at his son with mournful intensity of gaze.

“Tom, Tom, I think sometimes that thou dost err more from thoughtlessness than from wickedness; but, my son, thoughtlessness, if carried to excess, may become wickedness, and may breed vice.  I verily believe that in half thy pranks thou dost mean no great harm; but thou art growing to man’s estate, Tom.  It is time that thou didst put away childish things.  What is pardoned to youth, may not so easily be pardoned to manhood.  Have a care, Tom, have a care!  Oh, my son, remember that the day will come when thou too must lie face to face with death, even as I do tonight.  Let not the record upon which thou wilt then look be one of vice and profligacy.  It needs must be that in such a moment our lives seem deeply stained by sin; but strive so to live that thou mayest at least be able to say, ’I have striven to do my duty—­the Lord pardon all my imperfections!’ For, Tom, if thou dost persevere in careless and evil courses, it may be that the power to ask the Lord’s forgiveness may pass from thee; and if it comes to such a pass, may the Lord have mercy upon thy wretched soul!”

The dying man stopped short, a spasm of suffering passing over his face.  The thought had been a terrible one to him.  Yet he had been bred up in the somewhat stern Puritan tenets, and it was not in his creed to speak so much of the everlasting mercy as the everlasting judgment.

Tom put the cup of cordial to his father’s lips, himself somewhat sobered by the words heard and the visions called up.  He was neither callous nor hard-hearted; and his father was dying.  In that moment he really longed to turn over a new leaf, and cut adrift from former temptations.

“Then, father, let me go,” he said; “let me try afresh in a new place.  I could not do it here perhaps; but I think I could elsewhere.”

“If that be so, my son, then thou hadst better go,” said the dying man.  “I would that thou couldst have remained to be the stay and support of thy mother; but if not, then it may be thou wilt be better elsewhere.  I have thought often of this.  I and thy mother have talked it over many times.  I have even made provision for it, as she will tell thee and show thee.  But, Tom, if thou go hence, linger not in London, where, I fear me, thou wouldst soon be ruined body and soul.  There be stirring things passing in the great world beyond the seas.  Take ship, and go and see some of these things.  Linger not in idleness in the haunts of vice.  The world is a bigger place than thou canst know.  Go forth and see it, and learn and find thy manhood’s strength.”

Tom’s eyes glistened at the thought.  It had never occurred to him as possible to leave his native place.  Now it suddenly seemed as though a new life were opening out before him.