o; and Eve, never bein' used to no such ways,
seems terrible harried by it all."

"Harried?" repeated Adam, with ill-suppressed bitterness, "and well she
may be; still, I should ha' thought she might have managed to send, if
'twas no more than a word, back to me."

CHAPTER XXXII.

Under the plea that, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Jonathan
might still possibly put in an appearance, Adam lingered in his aunt's
cheerful-looking kitchen until after the clock had struck eleven: then
he very reluctantly got up, and, bidding Mrs. Tucker and Sammy
good-night, betook himself to the mill-house, in which, with regard to
his greater safety, a bed had been made up for him.

Adam felt that, court it as he might, sleep was very far from his eyes,
and that, compared to his own society and the torment of thought which
harassed and racked him each time he found himself alone, even Sammy
Tucker's company was a boon to be grateful for. There were times during
these hours of dreary loneliness when Adam's whole nature seemed
submerged by the billows of love--cruel waves, which would toss him
hither and thither, making sport of his hapless condition, to strand him
at length on the quicksands of fear, where a thousand terrible alarms
would seize him and fill him with dread as to how these disasters might
end. What would become of him? how would it fare with Eve and himself?
where could they go? what could they do?--questions ever swallowed up by
the constantly-recurring, all-important bewilderment as to what could
possibly have brought about this dire disaster.

On this night Adam's thoughts were more than usually engrossed by Eve:
her form seemed constantly before him, distracting him with images as
tempting and unsatisfying as is the desert spring with which desire
mocks the thirst of the fainting traveller. At length that relaxation of
strength which in sterner natures takes the place of tears subdued Adam,
a softened feeling crept over him, and, shifting his position so that
he might rest his arms against the corn-bin near, a deep-drawn sigh
escaped him.

"Hist!"

Adam started at the sound, and without moving turned his head and looked
rapidly about him. Nothing was to be seen: with the exception of the
small radius round the lantern all was darkness and gloom.

"Hist!" was repeated, and this time there was no more doubt but that the
sound came from some one close by.

A clammy sweat stood on Adam's forehead, his