That is so; but you are provided at least with money?" insisted
Anthony, whose kind heart was filled with sympathy and indignation.

"We have a good conscience," replied the old man, "and with that we are
richer than if the stone upon which I sit was gold. My father was a
basket-maker. He taught me his trade besides that of gardening, in
order that, during the dark winter months, I might have a useful
occupation. This has done more for me, and has been better for my
prosperity, than if he had left me a fortune. A good conscience, health
of body, and an honourable trade, are the best and surest fortunes we
can have on earth."

"God be praised," answered the huntsman, "that you bear your
misfortunes so well. I am forced to confess that you are right, and
that you have still a good resource in gardening. But I cannot see
where you expect to get employment."

"Far from here," answered James; "in places where we are not known.
Wherever, in short, God will conduct us."

"James," said the huntsman, "take this stout stick in your hand. I have
used it to assist me in climbing up the mountains, but I can easily get
another. And here," he added, drawing from his pocket a little leather
purse, "is some money that I received in payment for some wood in the
village where I passed the night."

"I gladly accept the cane," replied James, "and I will cherish it in
remembrance of a generous man; but it is impossible for me to accept
the money, as it is payment for wood that belongs to the Count."

"Good old James," the huntsman replied, "if that is your fear, you may
take the money with an easy mind. Some years ago a poor old man, who
had lost his cow, could not pay for the wood which he had bought from
the Count. I advanced him the sum, which he paid to the Count, and
thought no more about it. Now he has got out of his difficulties, and
yesterday, when I had forgotten all about it, he returned it to me with
hearty thanks. So you see it is truly a present which God sends you."

"I accept it," said James, "with thanks, and may God return it to you.
See, Mary," he said, turning to his daughter, "with what goodness God
provides for us at the very commencement of our banishment, here almost
before we have passed the limits of the country, and sends us our good
old friend who has given us money. Courage, my daughter; our heavenly
Father will watch over us." The huntsman then took leave of them with
tears in his eyes.

"Farewell, hones