and brushwood were thick, with only a small path through, much
overgrown, and behind the rock rose like a wall, overhung with ivy
and traveller's joy. Only one who knew the place could have found
the shed among the thicket where the cows were fastened, far less the
cavern half-way up the side of the rock where lay the treasures for
which Steadfast was a watchman. He thought for a moment of seeing if
all were safe, but then decided, like a wise boy, that to disturb the
creepers, and wear a path to the place, was the worst thing he could
do if he wished for concealment. He had had his supper at the
village, and had no more to do, and after the long day of going to
and fro, even Toby was too much tired to worry the rabbits, though he
had had no heavy weights to carry. Perhaps, indeed, the poor dog had
no spirits to interfere with their sports, as they sat upright,
jumped over one another, and flashed their little white tails. He
missed his old master, and knew perfectly well that his young master
was in trouble and distress, as he crept close up to the boy's
breast, and looked up in his face. Stead's hand patted the rough,
wiry hair, and there was a sort of comfort in the creature's love.
But how hard it was to believe that only yesterday he had a father
and a home, and that now his elder brother was gone, and he had the
great charge on him of being the mainstay of the three younger ones,
as well as of protecting that treasure in the cavern which his father
had so solemnly entrusted to him.

The boy knelt down to say his prayers, and as he did so, all alone in
the darkening wood, the words "Father of the fatherless, Helper of
the helpless," came to his aid.