pain, nor yet face a future which seemed barren of hope and
promise.

He could only sit beside his brother, tend him, nurse him, pray for
him. But the words of prayer too often died away upon his lips. Had
they not all prayed together, after the godly habit of the
household, upon the very morning when this awful disaster fell upon
them? Were these vast solitudes too far away for God to hear the
prayers that went up from them?

Humphrey had never known what awful loneliness could engulf the
human spirit till he sat beside the fevered man in the vast
solitude of the primeval forest, asking in his heart whether God
Himself had not forsaken them.

It was the hour of sundown, and Humphrey had gone outside for a
breath of fresh air. He looked ten years older than he had done a
few days back, when he had come whistling through the forest track,
expecting to see the children bounding forth to meet him. His eyes
were sunken, his face was pale and haggard, his dress was unkempt
and ragged. There were no clever fingers now to patch tattered
raiment, and keep things neat and trim.

There was an unwonted sound in the forest! It was distant still. To
some ears it would have been inaudible; but Humphrey heard it, and
his heart suddenly beat faster.

The sound was that of approaching steps--the steps of men. A few
minutes more and he heard the sound of voices, too. He had been
about to dash into the shed for his gun, but the fresh sounds