care not how often I bear it, nor how far."

"Nay, nay," said Margaret, colouring faintly. "I would not put upon
good nature, You are young, Master Luke, and kindly. Say I give you
your supper on Saturday night, when you bring the linen home, and your
dawn-mete o' Monday; would that make us anyways even?"

"As you please; only say not I sought a couple o' diets! for such a
trifle as yon."

With chubby-faced Luke's timely assistance, and the health and strength
which Heaven gave this poor young woman, to balance her many ills, the
house went pretty smoothly awhile. But the heart became more and more
troubled by Gerard's long, and now most mysterious silence.

And then that mental torturer, Suspense, began to tear her heavy heart
with his hot pincers, till she cried often and vehemently, "Oh, that I
could know the worst."

Whilst she was in this state, one day she heard a heavy step mount
the stair. She started and trembled, "That is no step that I know. Ill
tidings?"

The door opened, and an unexpected visitor, Eli, came in, looking grave
and kind.

Margaret eyed him in silence, and with increasing agitation,

"Girl." said he, "the skipper is come back."

"One word," gasped Margaret; "is he alive?"

"Surely I hope so. No one has seen him dead."

"Then they must have seen him alive."

"No, girl; neither dead nor alive hath he been seen this many months in
Rome. My daughter Kate thinks he is gone to some other city. She bade me
tell you her thought."

"Ay, like enough," said Margaret gloomily; "like enough. My poor babe!"

The old man in a faintish voice asked her for a morsel to eat: he had
come fasting.

The poor thing pitied him with the surface of her agitated mind, and
cooked a meal for him, trembling, and scarce knowing what she was about.

Ere he went he laid his hand upon her head, and said, "Be he alive, or
be he dead, I look on thee as my daughter. Can I do nought for thee this
day? bethink thee now?"

"Ay, old man. Pray for him; and for me!"

Eli sighed, and went sadly and heavily down the stairs.

She listened half stupidly to his retiring footsteps till they ceased.
Then she sank moaning down by the cradle, and drew little Gerard tight
to her bosom. "Oh, my poor fatherless boy; my fatherless boy!"

CHAPTER LXXVII

Not long after this, as the little family at Tergou sat at dinner, Luke
Peterson burst in on them, covered with dust. "Good people, Mistress
Catherine is wanted instant