The great black iron pot still hung in the chimney with the very meal
and kail broth that Patience had been boiling in it, and Rusha's
little stool stood by the hearth. Then the great chest, or ark as
Patience called it, where all the Sunday clothes were kept, had been
crushed in and the upper things singed, but all below was safe. The
beds and bedding were gone; but then the best bed had been only a box
in the wall with an open side, and the others only chaff or straw
stuffed into a sack.

Patience's crocks, trenchers, and cups were gone too, all except one
horn mug; but two knives and some spoons were extracted from the
ashes. Furniture was much more scanty everywhere than now. There
was not much to lose, and of that they had lost less than they had
feared.

"And see here, Stead," said Patience joyfully holding up a lesser box
kept within the other.

It contained her mother's Bible and Prayer-book. The covers were
turned up, a little warped by the heat, and some of the corners of
the leaves were browned, but otherwise they were unhurt.

"I was in hopes 'twas the money box," said Blane.

"Jeph has got the bag," said Patience.

"More shame for him," growled their friend. Steadfast did not think
it necessary to say that was not all the hoard.

Another thing about which Patience was very anxious was the meal