blowing in.

It was half a mile to Mrs. Green's--one of Madge's old gossips. The boy
got there in two hours. Mrs. Green was putting her baby to bed, but
instantly transferred that duty to her eldest girl, and went off eager
for news.

At nine that night the "Good Woman" inn resounded with talk of Madge.
Not a bit nor a drop was there in the house, according to Mrs. Green.
The landlord said Absalom owed him two shillings unpaid score: he could
forgive her the debt, but he couldn't give nothing. Mrs. Green went home
for her supper, and returning, found Madge conscious. She would not have
the parish doctor.

"Bellows," the tinker, had during these late months been out on an
itinerant journey. He came home that night, and at the "Good Woman"
heard the news. His quick wit put him up to a plan to serve the poor
girl. Early in the morning he took his pack and went through the village
up to the Rev. Mr. Horton's. There, under pretence of asking for kettles
to mend, he told the most dismal tale to the housemaid. At
breakfast-time this was reported to Mrs. Horton. Distress at such a time
was sufficient to engage any lady's attention. Mrs. Horton was a frail,
tender woman, but earnest in works of charity. The ponies were ordered,
and down they drove. The tale was not overdrawn. "Not a crust in the
cupboard--not a stick to light a fire: the poor creature starved,
and--and--you know, coming," said the good lady afterwards, describing
the scene. "John drove after the doctor instantly, and I stayed. Poor
girl! It was still-born; and she, poor thing! we saw, could not live
long."

Madge, indeed, died the same night, totally worn out at nineteen.

And Absalom? He had gone to work on a distant railway as a navvy, and,
earning good wages and able to enjoy himself nightly at the taverns,
forgot poor Madge. Months went on. News travels slowly among the poor,
but at last intelligence did reach him that his mother was dead and
Madge starving. To do him justice, he had never thought of that, and he
started at once for home, travelling on foot. But passing through a
village with his bundle on his shoulders, he was arrested by a policeman
who observed some blood on it. It was on the slop he had worn in the
fight at the "Good Woman," and came only from the nose. But there had
been a brutal murder in the neighbourhood, the public mind was excited,
and Absalom was remanded for inquiries. It took a fortnight to prove his
identity, and by th