o beauty.

"Hugh, it is true! Money ull do it! Oh, Hugh, boy, listen till me! He
said it true! It is money!"

"I know. Go back! I do not want you here."

"Hugh, it is t' last time. I 'II never worrit hur again."

There were tears in her voice now, but she choked them back.

"Hear till me only to-night! If one of t' witch people wud come, them we
heard of t' home, and gif hur all hur wants, what then? Say, Hugh!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean money.".

Her whisper shrilled through his brain.

"If one of t' witch dwarfs wud come from t' lane moors to-night, and gif
hur money, to go out,--_out_, I say,--out, lad, where t' sun shines, and
t' heath grows, and t' ladies walk in silken gownds, and God stays all
t' time,--where t' man lives that talked to us to-night,--Hugh knows,
--Hugh could walk there like a king!"

He thought the woman mad, tried to check her, but she went on, fierce in
her eager haste.

"If _I_ were t' witch dwarf, if I had f money, wud hur thank me? Wud hur
take me out o' this place wid hur and Janey? I wud not come into the
gran' house hur wud build, to vex hur wid t' hunch,--only at night, when
t' shadows were dark, stand far off to see hur."

Mad? Yes! Are many of us mad in this way?

"Poor Deb! poor Deb!" he said, soothingly.

"It is here," she said, suddenly jerking into his hand a small roll.
"I took it! I did it! Me, me!--not hur! I shall be hanged, I shall be
burnt in hell, if anybody knows I took it! Out of his pocket, as he
leaned against t' bricks. Hur knows?"

She thrust it into his hand, and then, her errand done, began to gather
chips together to make a fire, choking down hysteric sobs.

"Has it come to this?"

That was all he said. The Welsh Wolfe blood was honest. The roll was a
small green pocket-book containing one or two gold pieces, and a check
for an incredible amount, as it seemed to the poor puddler. He laid it
down, hiding his face again in his hands.

"Hugh, don't be angry wud me! It's only poor Deb,--hur knows?"

He took the long skinny fingers kindly in his.

"Angry? God help me, no! Let me sleep. I am tired."

He threw himself heavily down on the wooden bench, stunned with pain and
weariness. She brought some old rags to cover him.

It was late on Sunday evening before he awoke. I tell God's truth, when
I say he had then no thought of keeping this money. Deborah had hid it
in his pocket. He found it there. She watched him eagerly, as he took it
out.