not, like him, ascend each evening to the grassy fields and the pure air
of the upper earth! Stephen had a true tenderness in his nature towards
these dumb fellow-labourers, and they loved the sound of his voice, and
the kindly patting of his hand; but somehow he felt as if they knew how
he had left his faithful old Snip unburied on the open hillside, where
Black Thompson had found him in his passion the evening before. He was
not sorry for what he had done; he would avenge himself on the gamekeeper
again whenever there was an opportunity. Even now, he promised Black
Thompson, when they were away from the other colliers, to show him the
haunts of the scarce black grouse, which would be so valuable to the
gamekeeper; and he enjoyed Black Thompson's applause. But there was a
sore pang in his heart, as he remembered dead Snip, unburied on the
hillside.

Supper was ready when he reached home; and what a savoury smell came
through the open door, quite down to the wicket! Of course Snip was not
watching for him; and little Nan also, instead of looking out for him as
usual, was waiting eagerly to be helped; for, as soon as Stephen was seen
over the brow of the hill, Martha poured her dainty stew into a large
brown dish, and she had already portioned out a plateful for the
grandfather. Few words were uttered, for Martha was hot, and rather
testy; and Stephen felt a sullen weight hanging upon his spirits. Only
every now and then the old grandfather, chuckling and mumbling over the
uncommon delicacy, would call Stephen by his father's name of James, and
thank him for his rare supper.

'Good evening,' said Miss Anne's voice, and as the light from the doorway
was darkened, all the party looked up quickly, and Stephen felt himself
growing hot and cold by turns. 'Your supper smells very nice, Martha;
there has been some good cooking done to-day.'