and went to pray on John's grave.]

"Once I made shrift to the parson, and told him all about it. He said
that I had done the greatest wrong in not getting all the property into
the hands of the Church. I would rather be torn to pieces than go to a
confessional again after that. When I got out of prison, my first
thought was to find Singout again: Dick had taken charge of him. They
told me that after I was gone the dog had gone mad, and they had
knocked him on the head. Dick's people would have liked to keep me, but
their household was all out of gear: the mother didn't gee daylight for
a year, and only at night she took a lantern and went to pray on John's
grave. She wore black all her life, as you may remember. As I was going
out of the village again alone, and without even my dog, your mother
met me. She know I wasn't bad, though I had been in the workhouse: and
in this way I came to work in your father's house. I would not be a
shepherd any more. I wanted to live among men. What happened afterward
you know. I have a good place again now, on the Deurer farm here; but
yet I always feel as if I ought to go back to my brother, and as if my
penitence wasn't of the right kind until I took service in his house."

Nat paused, and pressed his hands to his eyes. Ivo said, "You ought to
go into a monastery and be a monk; that would be the real thing for
you."

"A priest!" said Nat, with more severity than was usual to him. "I'd
rather have my hand cut off. To live on piety is poor fare. Don't take
offence at my silly talk: I am a stupid fellow. You are going to be a
parson, and you are right: your heart is pure. But come," he said,
looking up to the stars, "it is near eleven o'clock: let's go to
sleep."

With much agitation of mind, Ivo took his place beside Nat in the van.

"Do tell me," said Nat, "you've got learning: how is it that love
brings all the trouble on men that they have? Wouldn't it be better if
there were no such thing?"

Ivo was puzzled: it was a subject on which he had never reflected. In a
sleepy tone he answered, "It comes from the fall,--from original sin. I
will think about it, though. Good-night."

Ivo's weary soul and jaded body fell an easy prey to the advances of
sleep. When he awoke next morning all yesterday had turned into a
dream. Nat was gone from his side; and, when he looked out of the van,
the shepherd stood whistling by his sheep.

After a simple morning relish the two friends separa