bring them into light again.

The other discovery was of a small hoard of coin. Under one of the
boards which formed the imperfect flooring of the garret was hidden an
old leather mitten. Instead of a hand, it had a fat fist of silver
dollars, and a thumb of gold half-eagles.

Thus knowledge and power found their way to the simple and secluded
maiden. The books were hers to read as much as any other's; the gold and
silver were only a part of that small provision which would be hers by
and by, and if she borrowed it, it was borrowing of herself. The tree of
the knowledge of good and evil had shaken its fruit into her lap, and,
without any serpent to tempt her, she took thereof and did eat.




CHAPTER IV.

BYLES GRIDLEY, A. M.

The old Master of Arts was as notable a man in his outside presentment as
one will find among five hundred college alumni as they file in
procession. His strong, squared features, his formidable scowl, his
solid-looking head, his iron-gray hair, his positive and as it were
categorical stride, his slow, precise way of putting a statement, the
strange union of trampling radicalism in some directions and
high-stepping conservatism in others, which made it impossible to
calculate on his unexpressed opinions, his testy ways and his generous
impulses, his hard judgments and kindly actions, were characteristics