trembling and exhausted.

The breath of the mill! The fires of the world's want and crime had
finished their work on her life,--so! She caught the meaning of his
face quickly.

"It's nothin'," she said, eagerly. "I'll be strong by New-Year's; it's
only a day or two rest I need. I've no tho't o' givin' up."

And to show how strong she was, she got up and hobbled about to make
the tea. He had not the heart to stop her; she did not want to
die,--why should she? the world was a great, warm, beautiful nest for
the little cripple,--why need he show her the cold without? He saw her
at last go near the door where old Yare sat outside, then heard her
breathless cry, and a sob. A moment after the old man came into the
room, carrying her, and, laying her down on the settee, chafed her
hands, and misshapen head.

"What ails her?" he said, looking up, bewildered, to Holmes. "We've
killed her among us."

She laughed, though the great eyes were growing dim, and drew his
coarse gray hair into her hand.

"Yoh wur long comin'," she said, weakly. "I hunted fur yoh every
day,--every day."

The old man had pushed her hair back, and was reading the sunken face
with a wild fear.

"What ails her?" he cried. "Ther' 's somethin' gone wi' my girl. Was
it my fault? Lo, was it my fault?"

"Be quiet!" said Holmes, sternly.

"Is it THAT?" he gasped, shrilly. "My God! not that! I can't bear it!"

Lois soothed him, patting his face childishly.

"Am I dyin' now?" she asked, with a frightened look at Holmes.

He told her no, cheerfully.

"I've no tho't o' dyin'. I dunnot thenk o' dyin'. Don't mind, dear!
Yoh'll stay with me, fur good?"

The man's paroxysm of fear for her over, his spite and cowardice came
uppermost.

"It's him," he yelped, looking fiercely at Holmes. "He's got my life
in his hands. He kin take it. What does he keer fur me or my girl?
I'll not stay wi' yoh no longer, Lo. Mornin' he'll send me t' th'
lock-up, an' after"----

"I care for you, child," said Holmes, stooping suddenly close to the
girl's livid face.

"To-morrow?" she muttered. "My Christmas-day?"

He wet her face while he looked over at the wretch whose life he held
in his hands. It was the iron rule of Holmes's nature to be just; but
to-night dim perceptions of a deeper justice than law opened before
him,--problems he had no time to solve: the sternest fortress is liable
to be taken by assault,--and the dew of the coming morn was o