7. Bull's turn
came, and in his story the vile element again appeared. For a while Eric
said nothing, but as the strain grew worse, he made a faint
remonstrance.
"Shut up there, Williams," said Attlay, "and don't spoil the story."
"Very well. It's your own fault, and I shall shut my ears."
He did for a time, but a general laugh awoke him. He pretended to be
asleep, but he listened. Iniquity of this kind was utterly new to him;
his curiosity was awakened; he no longer feigned indifference, and the
poison flowed deep into his veins. Before that evening was over, Eric
Williams was "a god, knowing good from evil."
O young boys, if your eyes ever read these pages, pause and beware. The
knowledge of evil is ruin, and the continuance in it hell. That little
matter--that beginning of evil,--it will be like the snowflake detached
by the breath of air from the mountain-top, which, as it rushes down,
gains size, and strength, and impetus, till it has swollen to the mighty
and irresistible avalanche that overwhelms garden, and field, and
village, in a chaos of undistinguishable death.
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