Frankfort is but fifty miles from Charlemont--fifty miles--and
there's Ellisland, but fourteen. Fourteen!--an easy afternoon ride.
That way it must be done. Ellisland shall be my post-town. I can
gallop there in an afternoon, drop and receive my letters, and be
back by a round-about which shall effectually baffle inquiry. A
week or two will be enough. I shall see, by that time, what can be
done with her; though still, cautiously, Parson Stevens!--cautiously."

The farther cogitations of Stevens were subordinate to these, but
of the same family complexion. They were such as to keep him wakeful.
The Bible which had been placed upon his table, by the considerate
providence of his hostess, lay there unopened; though, more than
once, he lifted the cover of the sacred volume, letting it fall again
suddenly, as if with a shrinking consciousness that such thoughts
as at that moment filled his mind were scarcely consistent with
the employment, in any degree, of such a companion. Finally, he
undressed and went to bed. The hour had become very late.

"Good young man," muttered worthy Mrs. Hinkley to her drowsy
spouse, in the apartment below, as she heard the movements of her
guest-"good young man, he's just now going to bed. He's been studying
all this while. I reckon Brother Cross has been sound this hour."

The light from Stevens's window glimmered out over the cabbage-garden,
and was seen by many an ancient dame as she prepared for her own
slumbers.

"Good young man," said they all with one accord. "I reckon he's
at the Bible now. Oh! he'll be a blessed laborer in the vineyard,
I promise you, when Brother Cross is taken."