hush as of appeased nature--rested like a benediction over the
house. The moon sailed along a swiftly clearing sky of blue, and
shot its silver shafts through the great cloud-bastions that still
barriered the horizon, and lighted up the chamber in which the old
woman was kneeling before her shrine. It was across these God sent
His kindly messenger with noiseless tread to bear her sore and
sorrowing soul 'where the wicked cease from troubling and the
weary are at rest.'

* * * * *

At an early hour the minions of Moses Fletcher, the money-lender,
were hovering round Crawshaw Fold, not daring, however, to enter
until the fateful hour of ten. Jimmy, with his wife, sat before an
untasted breakfast, wondering how it was his mother was so late in
coming downstairs; and when at half-past eight there was no sign
of her appearance, he sent his wife, with a strong feeling of
foreboding, to find out the reason of the delay. Slowly she
climbed the stairs to awaken, as she supposed, the old woman for
the last tragic act of the drama. When she stood upon the
threshold of the chamber, however, she saw at a glance that a
kindly hand had drawn the curtain before the enactment of the
fateful and final scene. Calling her husband, he hurried to her
side; and, together, they raised Jenny from her kneeling posture
before the old chest, and laid her on the bed, thanking God that
for her the worst had been forestalled. Four days afterwards old
Jenny was carried out of the Fold, feet foremost; and, amid a
falling shower of snow, was laid away by the side of little Billy
and the good man with whom, for forty years, she had shared her
life. As the mourners returned, chilled by the winter's blast,