sad music continued to fall in dying
strains upon his ears; and that night, and many a night
afterwards, did he vex his brain to find out why redemption should
be wrought out by a flute, when the creed of Rehoboth was
powerless.

II.

THE MONEY-LENDER.

1. THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.
2. THE REDEMPTION OF MOSES FLETCHER.
3. THE ATONEMENT OF MOSES FLETCHER.

I.

THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

'Well! yo' and Jim may do as yo' like--but I'm noan baan to turn
aat o' th' owd Fold till I'm ta'en aat feet fermost.'

'Nay, gronny--don't tak' on so. Yo' cornd ston' agen law as haa it
be; a writ is a writ, and if yo' hevn't got brass it's no use
feightin'.'

'A, lass! I'm feared thaa's reet--naa-a-days them as has most gets
most, and their own way i' th' bargain.'

They were sitting over the hearth, the elder woman gazing wearily
into the dying embers of the fire, and nursing her chin on her
hand; while the younger, with her clog upon the rocker of a deal
cradle, gave to that ark of infancy the gentle and monotonous
movement which from time immemorial has soothed the restlessness
of child-life.

It was a pitiless night--a night the superstitious might well
associate with the portent of the downfall of the house around
which the storm seemed to rage. The rain beat upon the windows,
and the wind with its invisible arms clasped the old farmstead as
if to wrench it from its foundations and scatter broadcast its
gray stones over the wild moor on the fringe of which it stood.
Neither of the women, however, heeded the sweep of the tempest,
for their bosoms were racked by storms other than those of the
elements. With eyes heavy from pent-up floods of tears, and hearts
dark with foreboding, they listened for the footfall which both
knew would bring with it their impending fate.

'He's here,' said the old woman, quickly raising her head during
one of the lulls of the storm. Nor was she mistaken, for in a
moment the door was thrown open by a tall broad-shouldered man,
who, seizing the dripping cap from his head, flung it with an oath
into the farthest corner of the room.

'Then he'll noan give us another chonce, lad? But thaa cornd mend
it wi' swearin'--thaa nobbud makes bad worse by adding thy oaths
to his roguery.'

'Oaths, mother! Oaths didsto say? I can tell thee th' Almighty
sometimes thinks more o' oaths than prayers. Owd Moses'll say his
to-neet--but my oaths'll get to heaven faster.'

'Hooisht, Jim