r friend!"

"What do you want?" said Edmund.

"I have brought you some wood to make a fire," said Joseph.

"I thank you kindly," said Edmund; "but my lamp is gone out; I will try
to find the door, however."

After some trouble he found, and opened it; and was not sorry to see his
friend Joseph, with a light in one hand, a flagon of beer in the other,
and a fagot upon his shoulder. "I come," said the good old man, "to
bring you something to keep up your spirits; the evening is cold; I know
this room wants airing; and beside that, my master, I think your present
undertaking requires a little assistance."

"My good friend," said Edmund, "I never shall be able to deserve or
requite your kindness to me."

"My dear sir, you always deserved more than I could do for you; and I
think I shall yet live to see you defeat the designs of your enemies,
and acknowledge the services of your friends."

"Alas!" said Edmund, "I see little prospect of that!"

"I see," said Joseph, "something that persuades me you are designed for
great things; and I perceive that things are working about to some great
end: have courage, my Master, my heart beats strangely high upon your
account!"

"You make me smile," said Edmund.

"I am glad to see it, sir; may you smile all the rest of your life!"

"I thank your honest affection," returned Edmund, "though it is too
partial to me. You had better go to bed, however; if it is known that
you visit me here, it will be bad for us both."

"So I will presently; but, please God, I will come here again to-morrow
night, when all the family are a-bed; and I will tell you some things
that you never yet heard."

"But pray tell me," said Edmund, "where does that door lead to?"

"Upon a passage that ends in a staircase that leads to the lower rooms;
and there is likewise a door out of that passage into the dining-room."

"And what rooms are there below stairs," said Edmund?

"The same as above," replied he.

"Very well; then I wish you a good night, we will talk further
to-morrow."

"Aye, to-morrow night; and in this place, my dear master."

"Why do you call me your master? I never was, nor ever can be, your
master."

"God only knows that," said the good old man; "good-night, and heaven
bless you!"

"Good-night, my worthy friend!"

Joseph withdrew, and Edmund returned to the other door, and attempted
several times to open it in vain; his hands were benumbed and tired; at
length he gave over.