weals with warm water and milk, and wrapped a cloak round him, but
even the next morning, he could not use his arms without fresh
bleeding, and the hindrance to the work was serious. He could do
nothing but herd the cattle, and he was much inclined to drive them
to the further end of the moorland where Jephthah would hardly find
him, but then he recollected that Patience would be left to bear the
brunt of the attack, so that he would not go far off, never guessing,
poor fellow, that in his dull, almost blundering fashion, he was
doing like the heroes and the martyrs, but only feeling that he must
keep his trust at all costs. Jeph, however, did not come that day or
the next, so that inwardly, the wound-up feeling had passed into a
weariness of expectation, and outwardly the stripes had healed enough
for Stead to go about his work as usual only a little stiffly. He
went into Bristol on market day as usual, and then it was, on his way
out that Jeph joined him, saying it was to bid Patience and the
little ones farewell, since the marching orders were for the morrow.
He was unusually kind and good-natured; he had a load of comfits for
Rusha and Ben, and a stout piece of woollen stuff for Patience which
he said was such as he was told godly maidens wore, and which
possibly the terror of his steel cap and corslet had cheapened at the
mercer's; also he had a large packet of tractates for Stead's own
reading, and he enquired whether they possessed a Bible.

Stead wondered whether all this was out of regret at the treatment he
had undergone, or whether it was to put him off his guard, and this
occupied him when Jeph began to preach, as he did uninterruptedly for
the last mile, without any of the sense, if there were any, reaching
the mind of the auditor.

They reached the hut, the gifts were displayed; and when the young