e over the wall in the
night--Stevens I expected it would prove to be--and had put his foot
right in the trap, which had sprung, caught him by the leg, and cut it
right off, and I felt sure that when I got back I should find him lying
there where he had bled to death.

The next thing that struck me was that I was a murderer, and that I
should be tried and condemned to death, but respited and sentenced to
transportation for life on account of my youth.

With such thoughts as these rushing through my brain it was not likely
that I should enjoy the breakfast with the brown and pink ham so nicely
fried, and the eggs that were so creamy white, and with such yolks of
gold.

I did _not_ enjoy that breakfast, and I was feverishly anxious to get
back to the works, and though first one and then another advised me to
go and lie down, I insisted upon going.

I was all in a tremble as I reached the gate, and saw old Dunning's
serious face. I read in it reproach, and he seemed to be saying to me,
"Oh, how could you do it?" Seemed, for what he did say was, "Nice
pleasant morning, Mester Jacob!"

I told a story, for I said, "Yes, it is," when it was to me the most
painful and miserable morning I had ever experienced; but I dared not
say a word, and for some time I could not find an opportunity for going
down the yard.

Nobody ever did go down there, unless it was to wheel a worn-out
grindstone to a resting-place or to carry some broken wood-work of the
machinery to throw in a heap. There was the heap of coal and the heap
of slack or coal-dust, both in the yard; but those who fetched the coal
and slack fetched them from this side, and they never went on the other.

The last time I could recall the men going down there to the dam, was
when we threw in Piter to give him a bath.

Piter! Had he been let loose? The thought that had come of him was
startling, but easily set right, for there was the bull-dog fast asleep
in his kennel.

Then there was Stevens!

The thought was horrible. He ought to be in the grinding-shop, and if
he were not--I knew!

It would have been easy to go and look, but I felt that I could not, and
I walked back to the gate and spoke to old Dunning.

"All the men come yet?" I said.

"No, Mester Jacob, they hevn't all come yet," he said.

I dare not ask any more. All had not come, and one of those who had not
come was, of course, Stevens, and he was lying there dead.

I walked back with Dunnin