be done! I shall soon be in the
grave, and then thou and Charley--"

"No, no, grandfather, pray don't say so," cried the poor girl, sobbing
as if her heart would break--"what should we do without you? Heaven may
spare you many happy years. I can work for you, and--"

"So can I, too," rejoined her brother Charley, a lad eight or nine years
of age--"and only to-day I got a promise from Mr. Scott the tailor, that
I might, when a little older, run of errands for him, and my wages will
be a dollar and a half a week--only think how much money I shall earn!"

"Thou art a brave little man," said the grandfather--"but, my children,
let us put our trust in God, and if it is His will that my earthly
pilgrimage should end, be it so! Thank Heaven, I owe nothing, and can
die at peace with all the world."

It had long been Fanny's custom to occupy an hour or so every evening,
in reading to her grandfather. But that evening she did not, as usual,
draw up the little table, and open the pages of some well-thumbed,
ancient volume, to read, for perhaps the twentieth time, of the valorous
deeds of some famed knight of the olden time, or mayhap, of the
triumphant death of some famed martyr for religion's sake. For alas! the
frugal but wholesome meal which had always preceded the reading of those
ancient chronicles, was now wanting; and the little family sat
listening to the raging of the pitiless storm without and counting the
weary moments as they passed.

The bell in a neighboring steeple had just told the hour of nine, when,
as the echo of that last stroke died away in the distance, a heavy step
was heard ascending the stairs that led to their humble apartment. As
the sound approached nearer, Fanny heard a voice occasionally giving
utterance to expressions of extreme irritation and impatience,
accompanied by certain sounds indicating that the person, whoever it
might be, often stumbled upon the dark, narrow and somewhat dilapidated
stair-case. "Blood and bomb-shells!" exclaimed a voice--"I shall never
reach the top, and my shins are broken. The devil! there I go again.
Corporal Grimsby, thou art an ass, and these stairs are the devil's
trap!" And here the luckless unknown paused a moment to breathe, rub his
shins, and refresh himself with an emphatic imprecation upon all dark
and broken stair-cases in general, but upon _that_ one in particular. At
this moment, Fanny made her appearance at the landing with a light, and
was astonished