's Hollow,
came to look through the unglazed window. He had not seen Stephen since
his illness, and there was something in his wasted face and figure which
touched even him.
'I'm sorry to see thee looking so badly, my lad,' he said; 'I must speak
to my missis to send you something nourishing, for I've not forgotten
you, Stephen. If ever there comes a time when I can speak up about any
business of yours without hurting myself, you may depend upon me; but I
don't like making enemies, and the Bible says we must live peaceably
with all men. I heard talk of you wanting some out-door work for a
while; and there's my wife's brother is wanting a shepherd's boy. He'd
take you at my recommendation, and I'd be glad to speak a word for you.
Would that do for you?'
Stephen accepted the offer gladly; and when the gamekeeper was gone,
they sang a hymn together, so blotting out by an offering of praise the
evil prayer which he had uttered upon that hearth on the night of his
desolation and strong conflict. Pleasant was the way home to the old
cabin in the twilight; pleasant the hearty 'Good-night' of Tim and Bess;
but most pleasant of all was the calm sense of truth, and the submissive
will with which Stephen resigned himself to the providence of God.
The work of a shepherd was far more to Stephen's taste than his
dangerous toil as a collier. From his earliest years he had been
accustomed to wander with his grandfather over the extensive
sheep-walks, seeking out any strayed lambs, or diligently gathering food
for the sick ones of the flock. To be sure, he could only earn little
more than half his former wages, and his time for returning from his
work would always be uncertain, and often very late. But then, sorrowful
consideration! there was no little Nan to provide for now, nor to fill
up his leisure hours at home. Martha was earning money for herself; and
as yet the master had demanded no rent for their miserable cabin; so his
earnings as a shepherd's boy would do until Mr. Lockwood came back.
Still upon the mountains he would be exposed to the bleak winds and
heavy storms of the spring; while underground the temperature had always
been the same. No wonder that Miss Anne, when she looked at the boy's
wasted and enfeebled frame, listened with unconcealed anxiety to his new
project for gaining his livelihood; and so often as the spring showers
swept in swift torrents across the sky, lifted up her eyes wistfully to
the unsheltered
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