e is?'

'Yes,' said the boy, hanging down his head, and wondering how Miss Anne
could possibly know that.

'Ah, Stephen,' she continued, 'God requires of us something more than
such prayers. He bids us really and truly to love our enemies--love which
He only can know of, because it is He who seeth in secret and into the
inmost secrets of our hearts. I may hear you pray for your enemies, and
see you try to do them good; but He alone can tell whether of a truth you
love them.'

'I cannot love them as I love you and little Nan,' replied Stephen.

'Not with the same kind of love,' said Miss Anne; 'in us there is
something for your love to take hold of and feed upon. "But if ye love
them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the
same?" Your affection for us is the kind that sinners can feel; it is of
this earth, and is earthly. But to love our enemies is heavenly; it is
Christ-like, for He died for us while we were _yet_ sinners. Will you try
to do more than pray for my uncle and Black Thompson? Will you try to
love them. Will you try for Christ's sake?'

'Oh, Miss Anne, how can I?' he asked.

'It may not be all at once,' she answered tenderly; 'but if you ask God
to help you, His Holy Spirit will work within you. Only set this before
you as your aim, and resist every other feeling that will creep in;
remembering that the Lord Jesus Himself, who died for us, said to us,
"Love your enemies." He can feel for you, for "He was tempted in all
points as we are."'

As she spoke the last words, they heard the master's voice calling loudly
for Miss Anne, and Stephen watched her run swiftly up the shrubbery and
disappear through the door. There was a great bolting and locking and
barring to be heard within, for it was rumoured that Mr. Wyley kept large
sums of money in his house, and no place in the whole country-side was
more securely fastened up by day or night. But Stephen thought of him
pacing up and down his room through the sleepless night, praying God to
have mercy upon him, yet not willing to give up his sin; and as he turned
away to the poor little cabin on the cinder-hill, there was more pity
than revenge in the boy's heart.

CHAPTER XI.

STEPHEN AND THE RECTOR.

The report of the expulsion of the family from Fern's Hollow spread
through Botfield before morning; and Stephen found an eager cluster of
men, as well as boys and girls, awaiting his appearance on the pit-bank.
There wa