the labourers like a man.

'I know it's not your fault,' he said, as they stood round him, making
explanations and excuses; 'but you know grandfather could not sell the
place. I'll get you to help me carry the things down to the cinder-hill
cabin. The sheep and ponies are coming down the hill, and there'll be
rain afore long; and it's not fit for grandfather and little Nan to be
out in it. You'll spare time from the work for that?'

'Ay, will we!' cried the men heartily; and, submitting kindly to
Stephen's quiet directions, they were soon laden with the household
goods, which were scanty and easily removed. Two or three journeys were
sufficient to take them all; and when the labourers returned for the last
time to their work of destruction, Stephen took little Nan in his arms,
and Martha led away the old man; while the sound of the pickaxes and the
crash of the rough rubble stones of their old home followed their slow
and lingering steps over the new pasture, and down the hillside towards
Botfield.




CHAPTER X.

THE CABIN ON THE CINDER-HILL.


The cinder-hill cabin was situated at the mouth of an old shaft, long out
of use, but said to lead into the same pit as that now worked, the
entrance to which was about a quarter of a mile distant. The cabin was