was glad when, after some hours of hard work beneath the trees,
Cuthbert succeeded in dragging the corpse away and in covering it
up from sight. Kneeling beside the rude grave, the girl breathed a
prayer for the soul of the departed man, and repeated many an ave
and paternoster, in the hope of smoothing for him his passage into
eternity (being still considerably imbued with the teachings of her
early life, which the newer and clearer faith had by no means
eradicated), and then she rose comforted and relieved, feeling as
though a dark weight had passed from her spirit.

Daylight had now come, and the girl was very weary. She looked so
wan and white that Cuthbert was alarmed, and fed her tenderly with
the best his wallet could supply; after which he took her up to his
nest in the sycamore, first bringing the rug that was lying in the
hollow tree to wrap around her. There he succeeded in making her so
comfortable and secure that she fell asleep almost at once, and he
was hopeful she would sleep the whole time of his absence, for she
was worn out with fatigue, and only just recovering from an
illness. How she had borne the fatigues of that night he scarce
knew; but she possessed her share of the Trevlyn tenacity of
purpose, and her strong will had conquered the feebleness of her
frame.

It was a satisfaction to see her sink into a tranquil sleep, and
secure in the certainty that she could not be seen by any person
entering the dell. Certain that none but a chance traveller ever
did come nigh this haunted spot, he was not afraid to leave her;
and after studying the simple contrivance by which the round slab
was raised and lowered in the well, he dropped it to its former
position, and went on his way to the village with a light heart.