er that he dare not for his very life come forward when the
skip descended, and he watched them go up, leaving him alone for the
night in that dismal place. He had his father's lamp with him, and so
made his way to the bottom of the old shaft, and waited, with what
impatience and anxiety we may imagine, to hear Stephen return from his
work.

'It was awfully lonesome,' he said, 'and I thought Stephen would never
come, or I'd never make him hear. It wasn't much better after he had
come, only for thinking Miss Anne would be safe. My lamp went out, and I
reckon I said "Our Father" over a hundred times. Besides, I was
wondering what was being done overhead. I'll never be left behind
anywhere again, I can tell ye.'

'Well,' said Stephen, 'my sheep and lambs don't know about the fire, and
I must be off. They'll want me just as bad as if I'd been in bed all
night.'

Still he could not help turning aside with Tim just for another glimpse
of the smouldering ruins, looking so black and desolate in the daylight.
But after that he did not loiter a minute, and spent the rest of the
morning in diligent attention to his duties, until, a little before
mid-day, he saw the farmer who employed him riding across the
sheep-walk; and when he ran forward to receive his orders, he bade him
make haste and go home to prepare himself for appearing before the
magistrate, to give his evidence against Black Thompson and his
comrades.

When Stephen reached the cinder-hill cabin he found Tim there again, and
Bess Thompson waiting to see him. Poor Bess had been crying bitterly,
for by this time it was known that her father and Davies were in jail;
though the others, being young and single men, had fled at once from the
place, and escaped for the present. As soon as Stephen entered, Bess
threw herself on her knees at his feet, and looked up imploringly into
his face.

'Oh, dear, good Stephen,' she cried, 'thee canst save father! I'll kneel
here till thee has promised to save him. Oh, don't bear any spite agen
him, but forgive him and save him!'

'Get up, Bess,' said Stephen kindly; 'don't thee kneel down to a fellow
like me. I'll do anything for thy father; I've no spite agen him.'

'Oh, I knew thee would!' she said; 'thee'lt tell the justice thee never
saw him there till the other folks came up from Botfield. Tim says he
didn't see anybody down in the pit, and he's promised not to swear to
their names. Don't thee swear to seeing anybody.'

'B