everything without him, became too importunate, and his resolution
failed him. He came back the next day, but the misery and terror his
mother had gone through in those two days had haunted her ever since.

"No!" Adam said to himself to-night, "that must never happen again. It
'ud make a poor balance when my doings are cast up at the last, if my
poor old mother stood o' the wrong side. My back's broad enough and
strong enough; I should be no better than a coward to go away and leave
the troubles to be borne by them as aren't half so able. 'They that are
strong ought to bear the infirmities of those that are weak, and not to
please themselves.' There's a text wants no candle to show't; it shines
by its own light. It's plain enough you get into the wrong road i' this
life if you run after this and that only for the sake o' making things
easy and pleasant to yourself. A pig may poke his nose into the trough
and think o' nothing outside it; but if you've got a man's heart and
soul in you, you can't be easy a-making your own bed an' leaving the
rest to lie on the stones. Nay, nay, I'll never slip my neck out o' the
yoke, and leave the load to be drawn by the weak uns. Father's a sore
cross to me, an's likely to be for many a long year to come. What then?
I've got th' health, and the limbs, and the sperrit to bear it."

At this moment a smart rap, as if with a willow wand, was given at the
house door, and Gyp, instead of barking, as might have been expected,
gave a loud howl. Adam, very much startled, went at once to the door
and opened it. Nothing was there; all was still, as when he opened it
an hour before; the leaves were motionless, and the light of the stars
showed the placid fields on both sides of the brook quite empty of
visible life. Adam walked round the house, and still saw nothing except
a rat which darted into the woodshed as he passed. He went in again,
wondering; the sound was so peculiar that the moment he heard it it