ing it. The lad, who was the
old man's grandson, undertook to get my boots mended by a brother, who
would ask no questions concerning me, and would gladly do it for
charity's sake. The old man promised to bring me next morning an ample
supply of provisions, and, in the mean time, insisted on my taking rest
while he and his boy watched near me. For this purpose they lopped off
a number of branches from the surrounding trees, and formed an arbour.
They then strewed the inside of it thickly with dry leaves, so as to
form a more comfortable couch than I had enjoyed for many a day. I
crept in, and was soon asleep. I had no fears, for I knew that the
woodcutters were Christian men, and that nothing would induce them to
betray me.

"They aroused me at noon to partake of their meal, which consisted but
of black bread and fish taken from the neighbouring river. The fish,
however, reminded me that, if I could but provide myself with a rod and
tackle, I might frequently provide myself with food. I mentioned my
idea to my new friends, and they promised to procure me what I wanted.
I was always a good fisherman, and knew how to catch every sort of fish.
I was surprised that I had not thought of this before starting from
home.

"After dinner I again went to sleep, and rested soundly till the
evening. I awoke up, and the old man came and sat down by me, giving me
some more food. While we sat and ate we conversed earnestly of
religious matters. The lad had gone away with my boots to the village,
which was three versts off. He did more even than he promised, for soon
after dark he returned with them thoroughly repaired.

"`Our brother knew the importance of having them ready, in case you
might be compelled to move away suddenly, so he lost no time in mending
them,' said the young lad as he gave them to me.

"Blessings on his head! He gave me also some provisions; but he did
more than this, he brought out with him a Bible. It was not his own--he
had borrowed it. By the light of a fir-torch, as we sat in the entrance
of my bower, he read many chapters from its sacred pages. It was late
before the old man and his grandson left me, promising to return early
the next morning. They told me that I might securely rest there till
then, sheltered by the bower. They brought some water and washed my
feet, and anointed them with some salve, which the lad, most thoughtful
for his years, had procured for the purpose. I had been t