n them into the Vicar's garden;
and then he gave an account of the meeting there with Mr. Fenwick.
After that he had known and seen nothing of the men. When he
testified so far he was handed over to the burly barrister.

The burly barrister tried all he knew, but he could make nothing of
this witness. A question was asked him, the true answer to which
would have implied that his sister's life had been disreputable. When
this was asked Sam declared that he would not say a word about his
sister one way or the other. His sister had told them all she knew
about the murder, and now he had told them all he knew. He protested
that he was willing to answer any questions they might ask him about
himself; but about his sister he would answer none. When told that
the information desired might be got in a more injurious way from
other sources, he became rather impudent.

"Then you may go to--other sources," he said.

He was threatened with all manner of pains and penalties; but he made
nothing of these threats, and was at last allowed to leave the box.
When his evidence was completed the trial was adjourned for another
day.

Though it was then late in the afternoon the three Brattles returned
home that night. There was a train which took them to the Bullhampton
Road station, and from thence they walked to the mill. It was a weary
journey both for the poor girl and for the old man; but anything was
better than delay for another night in Trotter's Buildings. And then
the miller was unwilling to be absent from his mill one hour longer
than was necessary. When there came to be a question whether he could
walk, he laughed the difficulty to scorn in his quiet way. "Why
shouldn't I walk it? Ain't I got to 'arn my bread every day?"

It was ten o'clock when they reached the mill, and Mrs. Brattle, not
expecting them at that hour, was in bed. But Fanny was up, and did
what she could to comfort them. But no one could ever comfort old
Brattle. He was not susceptible to soft influences. It may almost
be said that he condemned himself because he gave way to the daily
luxury of a pipe. He believed in plenty of food, because food for the
workman is as coals to the steam-engine, as oats to the horse,--the
raw material out of which the motive power of labour must be made.
Beyond eating and working a man had little to do, but just to wait
till he died. That was his theory of life in these his latter days;
and yet he was a man with keen feelings