Day had fully dawned before the Woodburn household was astir, and it was long past his accustomed hour when the captain paid his usual morning visit to his little daughters.

He found them up and dressed and ready with a glad greeting.

“Were you able to sleep, my darlings?” he asked, caressing them in turn.

“Oh yes, indeed, papa, we slept nicely,” they answered.

“And feel refreshed and well this morning?”

“Yes, papa; thank you very much for letting us sleep so long.”

“I allowed myself the same privilege,” he said pleasantly.  “We will have no school to-day, I have already been notified that there will be a preliminary examination of the prisoners, before the magistrate this morning, and that you, Lulu, and Max and I must attend as witnesses.”

“I’d rather not go, papa; please don’t make me,” pleaded Lulu.

“My child, it is not I, but the law that insists,” he said; “but you need not feel disturbed over the matter; you have only to tell a straightforward story of what you heard and saw and did in connection with the attempted robbery.

“I am very glad, very thankful,” he went on, “that I have always found my little daughter perfectly truthful.”

“Max too, papa.”

“Yes, Max too; and when you give your testimony I want you to remember that God the God of truth, who abhors deceit and the deceitful, and who knows all things hears every word you say.”

Taking up her Bible and opening it at the twenty-fourth psalm, he read, “He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully, he shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.”

Then turning to the twenty-first chapter of Revelation, “All liars shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone.”

Closing the book and laying it aside, “My dear children,” he said earnestly and with grave tenderness, “you see how God hates lying and deceit; how sorely he will punish them if not repented of and forsaken.  Speak the truth always though at the risk of torture and death; never tell a lie though it should be no more than to assert that two and two do not make four.

“Be courteous to all so far as you can without deceit, but never, never allow your desire to be polite to betray you into words or acts that are not strictly truthful.”

The children were evidently giving very earnest heed to their father’s words.

“Papa,” said Grace, sighing and hiding her blushing face on his shoulder, “you know I did once say what was not true; but I’m very, very sorry.  I’ve asked God many times to forgive me for Jesus’ sake and I believe he has.”

“No doubt of it, my darling,” returned her father; “for, ’if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’”

“I don’t believe Lu ever did,” said Grace.  “She’s a great deal better girl than I am.”

“No, it is not that I am better than you,” was Lulu’s emphatic dissent from that.  “It’s only that I am not timid like you; if I had been, it’s very likely I’d have told many an untruth to hide my faults and keep from being punished.”

“The telephone bell is ringing, papa,” announced Max, looking in at the door.

The call was from Ion; a vague report of last night’s doings at Woodburn having just reached the family there, they were anxious to learn the exact truth.

The captain gave the facts briefly and suggested that some of the Ion friends drive over and hear them in detail.

It was replied that several of them would do so shortly; Grandma Elsie among them, and that she would spend the day, keeping Violet company during her husband’s absence at Union, if, as she supposed, Vi’s preference should be for remaining at home.

“Of course it will,” said Violet, who was standing near.  “Please tell mamma I’ll be delighted to have her company.”

The captain delivered the message, then all hurried down to breakfast.

“Everything is in usual order, I see,” Violet remarked, glancing about the hall, and in at the library door as they passed it; “really the events of last night seem more like an unpleasant dream than actual occurrences.”

“Christine has been up for several hours and busied in having everything set to rights,” the captain said in reply.

As usual family worship followed directly upon breakfast, and it was scarcely over when the Ion carriage drove up with Grandma Elsie; Harold and Herbert accompanying it on horseback.

“Captain, I am greatly interested in this affair,” said Harold, shaking hands with his brother-in-law; “indeed we all are for that matter, and Herbert and I propose going over to Union to be present at the examination of the prisoners.

“Is your strong room on exhibition?  I own to a feeling of curiosity in regard to it.”

“You are privileged to examine it at any time,” returned Capt.  Raymond, with a good-humored laugh, “I will take you there at once if you wish, for we will have to be setting off on our ride presently.

“Mother, would you like to see it also?”

“Yes; and to hear the story of the capture while looking upon its scene.”

The captain led the way, all the rest following, except Lulu, who stole quietly away to her room to get herself ready for the trip to town.

She shrank a little from the thought of facing the two desperados and testifying against them, but kept up her courage by thinking that both her heavenly Father and her earthly one would be with her to protect and help her; also by the remembrance of her papa’s assurance that she need not feel disturbed; that all she had to do was to tell a plain straightforward, story: “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

“I can do that,” she said to herself; “it will be quite easy; for I remember perfectly all about it.  Those wicked men threatened papa that if he had them sent to jail they’d kill him some day when they are let out again, and I suppose they’ll want to kill me too, for telling about it in court; but I know they can’t do us any harm while God takes care of us.  That must be the meaning of that verse in Proverbs I learned the other day.

“‘There is no wisdom nor understanding nor counsel against the Lord.’

“And the next verse says, ‘safety is of the Lord.’  So I’m sure we needn’t be afraid of them.”

Capt.  Raymond opened the door of the strong room and called attention to the marks of the burglars’ tools on the lock of the safe.

“It was Lulu who first became aware of their presence in the house,” he said; “and she why where is the child?” as he turned to look for her, and perceived that she had disappeared.

“I think she has gone upstairs to put on her hat and coat,” Violet said.

“Ah yes, I suppose so! leaving me to tell the story of her bravery and presence of mind, myself.”

He proceeded to do so, and was well satisfied with the encomiums upon his child which it called forth from Grandma Elsie and her sons.

“I congratulate you, captain, upon being the father of a little girl who can show such unselfish courage,” Grandma Elsie said with enthusiasm, her eyes shining with pleasure, “I am proud of her myself; the dear, brave child!”

“And so am I,” said Violet; “but of course,” with a mischievous laughing glance into her husband’s face, “her father is not, but considers her a very ordinary specimen of childhood.  Is not that so, my dear?”

“Ah, my love, don’t question me too closely,” he returned with a smile in his eyes that said more plainly than words that he was a proud, fond father to the child whose conduct was under discussion.

But at that moment the carriage was announced.  Lulu came running down ready for her trip, her father handed her in, then seated himself and put his arm round her looking down into her face with a tenderly affectionate smile.

“You will not find it a very severe ordeal, daughter,” he said.

“You’re not afraid, Lu, are you?” asked Max.

“No; not with papa close by to take care of me and tell me what to do,” she answered, nestling closer to her father.

“No,” said Max; “and the burglars wouldn’t be allowed to hurt you anyhow.  The magistrate and the sheriff, and the rest would take care of that you know.”

“I suppose so,” returned Lulu, “but for all that it would be dreadful to have to go there without papa.  You wouldn’t want to yourself, Max.”

“I’d a great deal rather have papa along, of course; anybody would want his intimate friend with him on such an occasion, and papa is my most intimate friend,” replied the lad with a laughing, but most affectionate look into his father’s face.

“That’s right, my boy; I trust you will always let me be that to you,” the captain said, grasping his son’s hand and holding it for a moment in a warm affectionate clasp.

“You are mine, too, papa; my best and dearest earthly friend,” Lulu said, lifting to his, eyes shining with filial love.  “Papa, aren’t you afraid those bad men will try to harm you some day, if they ever get out of prison?”

“We are always safe in the path of duty,” he replied, “and it is a duty we owe the community to bring such lawless men to justice, for the protection of those they would prey upon.  No, I do not fear them, because I am under the protection of Him ’in whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind.’

“’The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?’

“No, daughter, one who fears God need fear nothing else; neither men nor devils, for our God is stronger than Satan and all his hosts.”

“And wicked men are Satan’s servants, aren’t they, papa?”

“Yes; for they do his will; obey his behests.”

“It seems to me Christians ought to be very happy, always,” remarked Max.

“Yes, they ought,” said his father; “the command is, ’Rejoice in the Lord always,’ and it is only lack of faith that prevents any of us from doing so.”

Arrived at their destination they found a little crowd of idlers gathered about the door of the magistrate’s office whither the two prisoners had been taken a few moments before.  As the Woodburn carriage drove up, and the captain and his children alighted from it, the crowd parted to let them pass in, several of the men lifting their hats with a respectful, “Good morning, sir,” to the captain.  “Good morning, Master Max.”

Their salutations were politely returned, and the captain stepped into the office, holding Lulu by the hand, and closely followed by Max.

Harold and Herbert had arrived a little in advance, and were among the spectators who, with the officers and their prisoners, nearly filled the small room.

The children behaved very well indeed, showing by their manner when taking the oath to tell “the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” that they were duly impressed with the solemnity of the act, and the responsibility they were assuming.

Lulu was of course the principal witness, and her modest, self possessed bearing, equally free from boldness and forwardness on the one hand, and bashfulness and timidity on the other, pleased her father extremely and won the admiration of all present; as did also her simple, straightforward way of telling her story.

The evidence was so full and clear that the magistrate had no hesitation in committing the accused for trial at the approaching spring term of court.  In default of bail they were sent back to prison.

“Take me to the nursery, Vi,” Grandma Elsie said, when the departure of the party destined for the magistrate’s office, had left them alone together.  “I feel that an hour with my little grandchildren will be quite refreshing.  The darlings are scarcely less dear to me than were their mother and her brothers and sisters in their infancy.”

“And they are so fond of you, mamma,” responded Violet, leading the way.

Little Elsie set up a glad shout at sight of her grandmother.  “I so glad, I so glad!  P’ease take Elsie on your lap, g’amma, and tell pitty ’tories.”

“Oh don’t begin teazing for stories the very first minute,” said Violet.  “You tire poor, dear grandma.”

“No, mamma, Elsie won’t tease, ’cause papa says it’s naughty.  But dear g’amma likes to tell Elsie ’tories; don’t you, g’amma?” climbing into her grandma’s lap.

“Yes, dear; grandma enjoys making her little girl happy,” Mrs. Travilla replied, fondly caressing the little prattler.  “What story shall it be this time?”

“‘Bout Adam and Eve eatin’ dat apple.”

Grandma kindly complied, telling the old story of the fall in simple language suited to the infant comprehension of the baby girl, who listened with as deep an interest as though it were a new tale to her, instead of an oft repeated one.

On its conclusion she sat for a moment as if in profound thought, then looking up into her grandmother’s face,

“Where is dey now?” she asked.

“In heaven, I trust.”

“Elsie’s goin’ to ask dem ’bout dat when Elsie gets to heaven.”

“About what, darling?”

“‘Bout eatin’ dat apple; what dey do it for.”

“It was very wicked for them to take it, because God had forbidden them to do so.”

“Yes, g’amma; Elsie wouldn’t take apple if papa say no.”

“No, I hope not; it is very naughty for children to disobey their papa or mamma.  And we must all obey God our heavenly Father.”

“G’amma, p’ease tell Elsie ’bout heaven.”

“Yes, darling, I will.  It is a beautiful place; with streets of gold, a beautiful river, and trees with delicious fruits; it is never dark, for there is no night there; because Jesus our dear Saviour is there and is the light thereof, so that they do not need the sun or moon.

“Nobody is ever sick, or sorry, hungry, or in pain.  Nobody is ever naughty; they all love God and one another.  There is very sweet music there.  They wear white robes and have crowns of gold on their heads and golden harps in their hands.”

“To make sweet music?”

“Yes.”

“Dey wear white dess?” “Yes.”

“Do dey button up behind like Elsie’s dress?”

Violet laughed at that question.  “She is very desirous to have her dresses fasten in front like mamma’s,” she explained in reply to her mother’s look of surprised inquiry.

“Do dey, g’amma? do dey button up in de back?”

“I don’t know how they are made, dearie,” her grandma answered.  “I never was there to see them.”

“Elsie’s never dere.”

“No, people don’t go there till they die.”

“Elsie’s never dere ‘cept when Elsie’s gettin’ made.  Wasn’t Elsie dere den? didn’t Dod make Elsie up in heaven?”

“No, darling, you were never there, but if you love Jesus he will take you there some day.”

“Mamma, how nicely you answer or parry her questions,” said Violet.  “As her father says, she can ask some that a very wise man could not answer.”

“Yes, she has an inquiring mind, and I would not discourage her desire to learn by asking questions,” Grandma Elsie said, adding with a smile, “I can remember that her mother used to ask me some very puzzling ones twenty years ago.”

“And I never received a rebuff, but was always answered to the best of your ability, dear mamma.  I think of that now when tempted to impatience with my little girl’s sometimes wearisome questioning, and resolve to try to be as good a mother to her as you were to me; and still are,” she added with a loving smile.  “And now that she has gone back to her play and baby Ned is sleeping, I want a quiet chat with you.”

“Then let us go to your boudoir and have it,” her mother answered, rising and moving toward the door.

“Mamma, I have not heretofore been timid about burglars,” Violet said, when they were seated in the boudoir, each busied with a bit of needlework, “but I fear that I shall be in future; for only think, mamma, how near they were to my husband and myself while we lay sleeping soundly in our own room!  How easily they might have murdered us both before we were even aware of their presence in the house.”

“Could they? had you then no wakeful guardian at hand?”

“O mamma, yes!  ’Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world,’ and ‘He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep’; and yet haven’t even Christians sometimes been murdered by burglars?”

“I can not assert that they have not,” replied her mother. “’According to your faith be it unto you,’ and even true Christians are sometimes lacking in faith putting their trust in their own defences, or some earthly helper, instead of the Keeper of Israel; or they are fearful and doubtful, refusing to take God at his word and rest in his protecting care.

“I do not see that we have anything to do with the question you propounded just now; we have only to take God’s promises, believe them fully and be without carefulness in regard to that, as well as other things.  I am perfectly sure he will suffer no real evil to befall any who thus trust in him.

“Death by violence may sometimes be a shorter, easier passage home than death from disease; and come in whatever shape it may, death can be no calamity to the Christian.”

“Solomon tells us that the day of death is better than the day of one’s birth.  ‘Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord.’

“My dear Vi, I think one who can claim all the promises of God to his children, should be utterly free from the fear that hath torment; should be afraid of nothing whatever but displeasing and dishonoring God.”

“Yes, mamma, I see that it is so; and that all I lack to make me perfectly courageous and easy in mind, is stronger faith.

“I think my husband has a faith which lifts him above every fear, and that he is perfectly content to leave all future events to the ordering of his heavenly Father.”

Grandma Elsie’s eyes shone.  “You are blest in having such a husband, my dear Vi,” she said.  “I trust you will help each other on in the heavenly way, and be fellow-helpers to your children and his.”

Violet looked up brightly.  “I trust we shall, mamma; we both earnestly desire to be, and I think his three all give good evidence that they have already begun to walk in the straight and narrow way; and no wonder, considering what a faithful, loving, Christian father he is so constant in prayer and effort on their behalf.”

“Ah,” as the sound of wheels was heard on the driveway, “they have returned; and now we shall have a report of all that was done in the magistrate’s office.  It must have been quite an ordeal to Max and Lulu.”