tress Forrester was moved to pity as she looked down on her
stepdaughter's face, and heard her murmur.

'Ambrose! my boy! He is stolen from me. Oh! for pity's sake, find him.'

'Stolen! stolen! not a bit of it,' Mistress Forrester said. 'I warrant he
is a-bed and asleep, for he is seldom up till sunrise.'

'He was with me,' Mary gasped, 'he was with me, when I fell. I was running
from _him_--and--he has stolen him from me.'

'Dear sake! who would care to steal a child? There, there, you are
light-headed. Drink a drop of water, and we'll get you home and a-bed. I'll
plaister the cut with lily leaves and vinegar, and I warrant you'll be well
in a trice.'

They moistened Mary's lips with water, and Jenkyns sprinkled her forehead;
and then Jenkyns, with Ned's help, raised Mary from the ground and carried
her towards the house.

A cry of suppressed agony told of the pain movement caused her, and
Mistress Forrester said,--

'Where's the pain, Mary? Sure you haven't broke your leg?'

But Mary could not reply. A deadly faintness almost deprived her of the
power of speaking.

As they passed through the yard the lamb, which Jenkyns had set down there
when he passed through, came trotting towards him, the long thick tail
vibrating like a pendulum as it bleated piteously for its mother.

Mary turned her large sorrowful eyes upon it, and whispered,--

'The lost lamb is found. Let it go to its mother. Oh! kind people,
find--find my boy, and bring him back to me--to me, his mother.'

By this time there was great excitement amongst the people employed on the
farm, and a knot of men and maidens were standing by the back door,
regardless of their mistress's anger that they should dare to idle away a
few minutes of the morning.

'Back to your work, you fools!' she said. 'Do you think to do any good by
staring like a parcel of idiots at Mistress Gifford. Ask the Lord to help
her to bear her pain, and go and bring her boy to her, Amice.'

But no one had seen the child that morning, and Amice declared he was not
in the house.

They carried Mary to her chamber, and laid her down on the low truckle bed,
the shepherd moving as gently as he could, and doing his best to prevent
her from suffering.

But placing her on the bed again wrung from her a bitter cry, and Jenkyns
said,--

'You must e'en get a surgeon to her, Mistress, for I believe she is sorely
hurt.'

'A surgeon! And, prithee, where am I to find one?'

'As luck w