g's last words ringing in my ears.

"Ain't you well, Mester Jacob?"

No, I was not well. I felt sick and miserable, and I would have given
anything to have gone straight down the yard and seen the extent of the
misery I had caused.

Oh! If I could have recalled the past, and undone everything; but that
was impossible, and in a state of feverish anxiety I went upstairs to
where the men were busy at lathe and dry grindstones, to try and get--a
glimpse of my trap, as I hoped I could from one of the windows.

To my horror there were two men looking out, and I stopped
dumb-foundered as I listened for their words, which I knew must be about
the trapped man lying there.

"Nay, lad," said one, "yow could buy better than they at pit's mouth for
eight shillings a chaldron."

Oh, what a relief! It was like life to me, and going to one window I
found that they could only see the heap of coals.

From the other windows there was no better view. Even from the room
over the water-wheel there was no chance of a glimpse of the trap.

I could not stop up there, for I was all of a fret, and at last,
screwing up my nerves to the sticking point, I went down determined to
go boldly into the grinder's shop, and see if Stevens was there.

What an effort it was! I have often wondered since whether other boys
would have suffered what I did under the circumstances, or whether I was
a very great coward.

Well, coward or no, I at last went straight into the grinder's shop, and
there was the plashing rumble of the great water-wheel beyond the door,
the rattle of the bands and the whirr and whirl and screech of the
grindstones as they spun round, and steel in some form or other was held
to their edge.

There were half a dozen faces I knew, and there was Gentles ready to
smile at me with his great mouth and closed eyes.

But I could only just glance at him and nod, for to my horror Stevens'
wheel was not going, and there was no one there.

I felt the cold sweat gather all over my face, and a horrible sensation
of dread assailed me; and then I turned and hurried out of the building,
so that my ghastly face and its changes should not be seen.

For just then I saw Stevens rise up from behind his grindstone with an
oil-can in his hand--he had been busy oiling some part or other of the
bearings.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

MY TRAVELLING COMPANION.

Somehow or another I could not get to that trap all that day, and night
came, and stil