'Yes, surely, Miss Anne,' answered the boy wonderingly.

'Your Father which is in heaven cares much more for you,' she continued;
'but "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He
receiveth." God is dealing with you as His son, Stephen. Can you bear the
sorrow which is sent by Him?'

'If the Lord Jesus will help me,' he murmured.

'He will help you, my poor boy,' said Miss Anne 'Oh, Stephen, Stephen,
how can I tell you? Our little Nan, our precious little child, has fallen
down the old shaft.'

Stephen reeled giddily, and would have sunk to the ground, but Cole held
him up in his strong arms, while his comrades gathered about him with
tears and sobs, which prevented them uttering any words of consolation.
But he could not have listened to them. He fancied he heard the pattering
of Nan's little feet, and saw her laughing face. But no! he heard instead
the dull and lingering footsteps of Tim, and saw a little lifeless form
folded from sight in Tim's jacket.

'The little lass 'ud die very easy,' whispered Cole, passing his arm
tighter round Stephen; 'and she's up in heaven among the angels by this
time, I reckon.'

Stephen drew himself away from Cole's arm, and staggered forward a step
or two to meet Tim; when he took the sad burden from him, and sat down
without a word, pressing it closely to his breast. His perfect silence
touched all about him. Miss Anne hid her face in her hands, and some of
the men groaned aloud.