about higher things. I hope the good Lord will not judge him too harshly."

"But he was not always like that, father," Nellie remarked.

"No, no, thank God. He had a happy home when I first came to this parish,
long before you were born. I have often told you about the sweet,
God-fearing wife he had then. But after she was laid to rest a great
change took place in Billy's life. He became very rebellious and never
darkened the church door. He acquired a great passion for money, and grew
to be most miserly. As the years passed his harshness increased. He waxed
sullen and disagreeable. His neighbours shunned him and he looked upon
them all with a suspicious eye. His money he never placed in a bank, but
kept it in his house in gold coin, in a strong, iron box, so I have been
told, and would count it over and over again with feverish delight."

"But, father," remonstrated Nellie, "there must have been something good
in poor old Billy. You know how fond he was of Tony Stickles."

"True, very true, dear. I have often wondered about the affection between
the two. No one else could live with the old man, except Tony, and he
served him like a faithful dog. It is generally believed that Billy
confided many things to Tony. He is a peculiar lad, and people have tried
in vain to find out what he knew. He will certainly feel badly when he
comes out of the woods, where he is now working, and hears about Billy's
death. But here we are at home. Oh dear, the journey has greatly tired
me," and the parson panted heavily as he entered the house.

During the homeward walk Dan trudged along close by Nellie's side, busy
with his own thoughts. He longed for something to happen that he might
show her what a man he was. If a robber or a wolf, or some frightful