face, and the lad's bright one--flushed
all over with that excitement of danger so delicious to the young--that
the peril had not been small.

"Jael," cried my father, rousing himself, "give us some breakfast; the
lad and me--we have had a hard night's work together."

Jael brought the mug of ale and the bread and cheese; but either did
not or could not notice that the meal had been ordered for more than
one.

"Another plate," said my father, sharply.

"The lad can go into the kitchen, Abel Fletcher: his breakfast is
waiting there."

My father winced--even her master was sometimes rather afraid of Jael.
But conscience or his will conquered.

"Woman, do as I desired. Bring another plate, and another mug of ale."

And so, to Jael's great wrath, and to my great joy, John Halifax was
bidden, and sat down to the same board as his master. The fact made an
ineffaceable impression on our household.

After breakfast, as we sat by the fire, in the pale haze of that
February morning, my father, contrary to his wont, explained to me all
his losses; and how, but for the timely warning he had received, the
flood might have nearly ruined him.

"So it was well John came," I said, half afraid to say more.

"Ay, and the lad has been useful, too: it is an old head on young
shoulders."

John looked very proud of this praise, though it was grimly given. But
directly after it some ill or suspicious thought seemed to come into
Abel Fletcher's mind.

"Lad," suddenly turning round on John Halifax, "thee told me thee saw
the river rising by the light of the moon. What wast THEE doing then,
out o' thy honest bed and thy quiet sleep, at eleven o'clock at night?"

John coloured violently; the quick young blood was always ready enough
to rise in his face. It spoke ill for him with my father.

"Answer. I will not be hard upon thee--to-night, at least."

"As you like, Abel Fletcher," answered the boy, sturdily. "I was doing
no harm. I was in the tan-yard."

"Thy business there?"

"None at all. I was with the men--they were watching, and had a
candle; and I wanted to sit up, and had no light."

"What didst thee want to sit up for?" pursued my father, keen and sharp
as a ferret at a field-rat's hole, or a barrister hunting a witness in
those courts of law that were never used by, though often used against,
us Quakers.

John hesitated, and again his painful, falsely-accusing blushes tried
him sore. "Sir, I'll tell you;