looked like a moving snow man. He was obliged to
keep a sharp look out, for he could see no path before him; but he was
so well acquainted with every tree, and every rock hereabouts, that he
had no difficulty in finding them out even in the snow. When he reached
the rising ground whence the descent into the valley commences, and
looking back, saw the lights shining so cheerily in the Forest Mill, he
felt a strong inclination to go back there.

"She is a very pretty creature, and hundreds have done the same, and
yet have lived gaily and happily with their wives:--turn back!"

But, in spite of these tempting thoughts, he went straight on down the
hill, so the lights in the mill soon disappeared from his view; and now
his heart felt lighter, and in the thickly falling snow he lifted his
hand to Heaven and vowed--"I will go home no more. I would rather be a
poor labourer, and earn my daily bread, than desert my Martina, and my
child, my Joseph; it is two years since I have heard his voice--he must
be very much grown, and able now to say 'Father, father'!"

Suddenly Adam stood still--a child's voice was calling "Father,
father!" through the wood, and once more, quite distinctly, "Father!"
"Oh! I must be mistaken. How could it be? That mulled wine has confused
my senses."

Adam relit his pipe, which had gone out, and by its flash he saw that
there were irregular traces of dog's paws in the snow. "What is it? A
dog no doubt has lost his master, and is searching for him," But there
were no marks of a man's foot to be seen. "What need I care? I want to
get on."

Hush! what again? a man's voice shouts from the top of the hill--"Adam!
Adam!"--"Am I dreaming? or is the world bewitched tonight?"

Adam grasped his huge stick more firmly in his hand. "Let them come,
the whole array of sorcerers, or demons, if they like. I am not afraid,
for my life is not less wicked than theirs; because, like a lazy,
foolish fellow, I have yielded to others for so many years; and God
forgive me for my folly in thinking that my mother might yield at
last;--for supposing that an iron horseshoe could be softened;--and now
I have submitted to be made a Christmas mummer, and allowed myself to
be betrothed; but I will never marry Tony, never; and, in spite of the
whole world, I am resolved to do as I choose. I will have my Martina
and Joseph for my own. Come on there, demons and evil spirits! What is
that? It is the dog whose traces I saw just now. C