trong self-possession came to
him, and swift was his return. The clouds were now parting, and as
they chased one another towards the distant horizon, the sun--the
watery November sun--shone out in silver upon the great stretch of
moorland, and lit it up like a sea of light. Little globes of
crystal glistened on the hedgerows, and many-coloured raindrops
glowed like jewelled points on the blades of green that lay about
his feet. A great arch of sevenfold radiance spanned the valley,
based on either side from the twin slopes, and reaching with its
crown to the summit of the skies. It was now a passage from Hebrew
tradition came to his mind, and he thought of him of whom the poet
wrote, 'and as he passed over Penuel, the sun rose upon him.'

And yet his heart failed him as he drew within sight of the
cottage door. Was it the house of life, or the house of death?--or
was it the house where death and life alike were victorious? He
paused, and felt the blood flow back to its central seat, while
his bones began to shake, and his heart was poured out like water.
But the battle was won, though the struggle was not over, and he
pressed on towards his home.

The first thing he saw on entering the door was Dr. Hale seated
before a cup of steaming tea, with a great weariness in his eye,
who, when he saw Matt, threw a look of rebuke, and in somewhat
stern tones said:

'You can go upstairs, Matt, if you like; it's all over.'

With a spasm in his throat Matt was about to ask what it was that
was all over; but he was forestalled by old Malachi's wife, who,
pushing her head through the staircase doorway into the room,
cried:

'It's a lad, Matt, and a fine un an' o'!'

'Hang th' lad!' cried Matt; 'how's Miriam?'

'Come and see for thisel; hoo's bin waitin' for thee this hawve
haar.'

With a bound or two Matt cleared the stairway and stood by the
side of Miriam.

There she lay, poor girl! limp and exhausted, wrapped in her old
gown like a mummy, her long, wet hair, which was scattered in
tresses on the pillow, throwing, in its dark frame, her face into
still greater pallor.

'Thaa munnot speak, Miriam,' said the nurse in a low tone. 'If
thaa moves tha'll dee. Thaa can kiss her, Matt; but that's all.'

Matt kissed his wife, and baptized her with his warm tears.

'And hesn't thaa getten a word for th' child, Matt?' cried old
Deborah, who sat with a pulpy form upon her knees before the fire.
'It's thy lad and no mistak'; it