th affection to the lad. He had interceded with
the Squire when Sam was accused of poaching,--had interceded with
the old miller when Sam had given offence at home,--and had even
interceded with the constable when there was a rumour in the wind
of offences something worse than these. Then had come the occasion
on which Mr. Fenwick had told the father that unless the son would
change his course evil would come of it; and both father and son had
taken this amiss. The father had told the parson to his face that he,
the parson, had led his son astray; and the son in his revenge had
brought housebreakers down upon his old friend's premises.

"One hasn't to do it for thanks," said Mr. Fenwick, as he became a
little bitter while thinking of all this. "I'll stick to him as long
as I can, if it's only for the old woman's sake,--and for the poor
girl whom we used to love." Then he thought of a clear, sweet, young
voice that used to be so well known in his village choir, and of the
heavy curls, which it was a delight to him to see. It had been a
pleasure to him to have such a girl as Carry Brattle in his church,
and now Carry Brattle was gone utterly, and would probably never be
seen in a church again. These Brattles had suffered much, and he
would bear with them, let the task of doing so be ever so hard.

The sound of workmen was to be already heard as he drew near to
the mill. There were men there pulling the thatch off the building,
and there were carts and horses bringing laths, lime, bricks, and
timber, and taking the old rubbish away. As he crossed quickly by
the slippery stones he saw old Jacob Brattle standing before the
mill looking on, with his hands in his breeches pockets. He was
too old to do much at such work as this,--work to which he was not
accustomed--and was looking up in a sad melancholy way, as though it
were a work of destruction, and not one of reparation.

"We shall have you here as smart as possible before long, Mr.
Brattle," said the parson.

"I don't know much about smart, Muster Fenwick. The old place was
a'most tumbling down,--but still it would have lasted out my time,
I'm thinking. If t' Squire would 'a done it fifteen years ago, I'd
'a thanked un; but I don't know what to say about it now, and this
time of year and all, just when the new grist would be coming in.
If t' Squire would 'a thought of it in June, now. But things is
contrary--a'most allays so." After this speech, which was made in a
l