, and
hear the sound of his voice; for as soon as she rattled the railings he
spoke again.

'Be sharp!' he cried. 'I'm not afeared; but I can't stay here where
little Nan died. I'll go back to the pit, and wait till morning. Be
sharp!'

There was no need after that to urge Martha to hasten. After throwing a
shawl over her head, she started off for Longville with the swiftness of
a hare; and was soon past the engine-house, and threading her way
cautiously through Botfield, where she dreaded to be discovered as she
passed the lighted windows, or across the gleam of some open door. Many
of the houses were quite closed up and dark, but in some there was a
voice of talking; and here and there Martha saw a figure stealing like
herself along the deepest shadows. But she escaped without being
noticed; and, once through the village, her path lay along the silent
high-roads straight on to Longville.

Nor did Stephen linger in the cinder-hill cabin. He ran swiftly over the
pit-banks, and stole along by the limekilns and the blacksmith's shop,
for under the heavy door he could see a little fringe of light. How
loudly the dry cinders cranched under his careful footsteps! Yet, quiet
as the blacksmith's shop was, and soundless as the night without, the
noise did not reach the ears of those who were lurking within, and
Stephen went on in safety. There stood the master's house at last, black
and massive-looking against the dark sky; not a gleam from fire or
candle to be seen below, for every window was closely shuttered; but on
the second storey there shone a lighted casement, which Stephen knew
belonged to the master's chamber. The dog, which came often with Miss
Anne to the cinder-hill cabin, gave one loud bay, and then sprang
playfully upon Stephen, as if to apologize for his mistake in barking at
him. For some minutes the boy stood in deep deliberation, scarcely
daring to knock at the door, lest some of the housebreakers should be
already concealed near the spot, and rush upon him before it was opened,
or else enter with him into the defenceless dwelling. But at length he
gave one very quiet rap with his fingers, and after a minute's pause his
heart bounded with joy as he heard Miss Anne herself asking who was
there.

'Stephen Fern,' he answered, with his lips close to the keyhole, and
speaking in his lowest tones.

'What is the matter, Stephen?' she asked. 'I cannot open the door, for
my uncle always takes the keys with him