not, he knew of another way to save himself, which would do quite as well, or better.

"What other way? What do you mean?" asked Fanny very anxiously.

"Oh, nothing," said Colin; "only, if people do not treat us properly, we are not obliged to stay with them."

"But you must never think of running away," she replied, "and going you do not know where. Come back home if they ill-treat you, and you will always be safe with us."

Their morning meal being now prepared, the three sat down to it with an undefined feeling of sadness which no effort could shake off. Some little extra luxury was placed upon the table for Colin ; and many times was he made to feel that-however unconsciously to themselves both his mother and Fanny anticipated all his slightest wants with unusual quickness; and waited upon him, and pressed him to his last ill-relished meal, with a degree of assiduity which rendered the sense of his parting with them doubly painful.

The hour for going at length arrived. At ten o'clock the village-carrier called for his little box; and at twelve Colin himself was to set out. The last half-hour was spent by his mother in giving him that impressive counsel which under such circumstances a mother best knows how to give; while Fanny stood by, weeping as she listened to it, and frequently sobbing aloud when some more striking observation, some more pointed moral truth, or apposite quotation from the sacred volume, escaped the mother's lips. Twelve o'clock struck. At a quarter past our hero was crossing the fields on the foot-road to Whinmoor; and at about three in the afternoon he arrived at the place of his future abode.

CHAPTER XI.

Describes the greeting which Colin received on his arrival at Snitterton Lodge; together with a very serious quarrel between him and Mr. Palethorpe ; and its fearful results.

As Colin descended a gentle declivity, where the sterility of the moor seemed imperceptibly to break into and blend with the woods and the bright spring greenery of a more fertile tract of country, he came within sight of Miss Sowersoft's abode. Though dignified with the title of a seat, it was a small common farm-house, containing only four rooms, a long dairy and kitchen, and detached outhouses behind. To increase its resemblance to a private residence, a piece of ground in front was laid out with grass and flower-beds. The ground was flanked on either extremity with gooseberry-bushes, potato-lands, broadbeans, and pea-rows; and, farther in the rear, so as to be more out of sight, cabbages, carrots, and onions. The natural situation of the place was excellent. Standing on the north side of a valley which, though not deep, yet caused it to be shut out

from any distant prospect in consequence of the long slope of the hills, the little dwelling looked out over a homely but rural prospect of ploughed and grass land, and thick woods to the left; over which, when the light of the sun was upon it, might be seen the white top of a maypole which stood in the middle of the next village; and, still nearer, the fruitful boughs of an extensive orchard, now pink and white with bloom; while along the foot of the garden plunged a little boisterous and headlong rivulet, worn deep into the earth, which every summer storm lashed into a hectoring fury of some few days' duration, and, on the other hand, which every week of settled fair weather, calmed down into a gentle streamlet,-now gathering in transparent pools, where minnows shot athwart the sun-warmed water like darts of light; and then again stretching over fragments of stone, in mimic falls and rapids, which only required to be enlarged by the imagination of the listless wanderer, to surpass in picturesque beauty the course of the most celebrated rivers.

As Colin entered the garden-gate, he observed the industrious Mr. Palethorpe sitting against the western wall of the house,— the afternoon being warm and inviting, smoking his pipe, and sipping the remains of a bottle of wine. With his legs thrown idly out, and his eyes nearly closed to keep out the sun, he appeared to be imbibing, in the most delicious dreamy listlessness, at once the pleasures of the weed and the grape, and those which could find their way to his inapprehensive soul from the vast speaking volume of glad nature which lay before him.

"So, you're come, are you?" he muttered, without relieving his mouth of the pipe, as the boy drew near him.

"Yes, I am here at last," replied Colin; adding very goodhumouredly, "you seem to be enjoying yourself.'

"And what in th' devil's name is that to you?" he savagely exclaimed; "what business of yours is it what I'm doing?" "I did not intend to offend you, I'm sure," said Colin. "You be dang'd!" replied Sammy. "You arn't mester here yet, mind you, if you are at home! I have heard a bit about you, my lad; and, if you don't take care how you carry yourself, you'll soon hear a little bit about me, and feel it an' all, more than we've agreed for at present. Get into th' house with you, and let meesis see you 're come."

The blood rose in Colin's face; and tears, which he would have given half his life to suppress, welled up in his eyes at this brutal greeting, so different to that which he had expected, and to the feelings of happiness which a few minutes previously had thronged, like bees upon a flower, about his heart.

As he passed the wire-woven windows of the dairy at the back of the house, he observed a maid within busily employed, in the absence of Miss Sowersoft, in devouring by stealth a piece of cheese.

Colin knocked at the door; but before the maid could swal

low her mouthful, and wipe the signs thereof from her lips, so as to fit herself to let him in, an ill-tempered voice, which he instantly recognised as that of Miss Sowersoft, bawled out,

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Sally!-why don't you go to the door?"

"Yes, 'um !" bellowed Sally, in return, as she rushed to the place of entrance, and threw the door back.

"Is Miss Sowersoft at home?" asked the boy.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" cried his mistress from an inner room, "Come in, come in, and don't keep that door open half an hour, while I am in a perspiration enough to drown anybody!"

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Colin passed through the kitchen into the apartment from which the voice had proceeded, and there beheld Miss Sowersoft, with a huge stack of newly-washed linen before her, rolling away at a mangle, which occupied nearly one side of the room. Why didn't your mother send you at a more convenient time?" continued Miss Sowersoft, looking askance at Colin, with her remotest eye cast crosswise upon him most malignantly. "If she had had as much to do as I have had, ever since she kept house of her own, she would have known pretty well before now that folks don't like to be interrupted in the middle of their day's work with new servants coming to their places. But I suppose she's had nothing to do but to pamper you all her life. I can't attend to you now; -you see I'm up to my neck in business of one sort or another."

So saying, she fell to turning the mangle again with increased velocity; so that, had our hero even felt inclined to make an answer, his voice would have been utterly drowned by the noise.

In the mean time Colin stood in the middle of the floor, doubtful what step to take next, whether into a chair or out of the house; but, in the lack of other employment, he pulled his cap into divers fanciful forms, which had never entered into the head of its manufacturer, until at length a temporary cessation of his mistress's labours, during which an exchange of linen was made in the mangle, enabled him to ask, with some chance of being heard, whether he could not begin to do something.

"I'll tell you what to do," replied Miss Maria, "when I've done myself,-if I ever shall have done; for I am more like a galley-slave than anything else. Nobody need sit with their hands in their pockets here, if their will is as good as their work. Go out and look about you; - there's plenty of stables and places to get acquainted with before you'll know where to fetch a thing from, if you are sent for it. And, if Sammy has finished his pipe and bottle, tell him I want to know what time he would like to have his tea ready."

Colin very gladly took Miss Sowersoft (who was more than usually sour, in consequence of the quantity of employment on her hands) at her word, and, without regarding her message to Sammy, with whom he had no desire to change another word at

present, he hastened out of the house, and rambled alone about the fields and homestead until dusk.

Several times during this stroll did Colin consider and re-consider the propriety of walking home again without giving his situation any farther trial. That Snitterton was no paradise, and its inhabitants a nest of hornets, he already began to believe; though to quit it even before a beginning had been made, however much of ill-promise stared him in the face, would but indifferently accord with the resolutions he had formed in the morning, to undergo any difficulties rather than fail in his determination eventually to do something, not for himself only, but for his mother and Fanny. The advice which the former had given him not twelve hours ago also came vividly to his recollection; the sense of its truth, which experience was even now increasing, materially sharpening its impression on his memory. It was not, however, without some doubts and struggles that he finally resolved to brave the worst,-to stand out until, if it should be so, he could stand out no longer.

Strengthened by these reflections, and relying on his own honesty of intention, our hero returned to the house just as all the labourers had gathered round the kitchen grate, and were consuming their bread and cheese in the dim twilight. Amongst them was one old man, whose appearance proclaimed that his whole life had been spent in the hard toils of husbandry, but spent almost in vain, since it had provided him with nothing more than the continued means of subsistence, and left him, when worn-out nature loudly declared that his days of labour were past, no other resource but still to toil on, until his trembling hand should finally obtain a cessation in that place which the Creator has appointed for all living. What little hair remained upon his head was long and white; and of the same hue also was his week's beard. But a quiet intelligent grey eye, which looked out with benevolence from under a white penthouse of eyebrow, seemed to repress any feelings of levity that otherwise might arise from his appearance, and to appeal, in the depth of its humanity, from the helplessness of that old wreck of manhood, to the strength of those who were now what once he was, for assistance and support.

"Ay, my boy!" said old George, as Colin entered, and a seat was made for him near the old man," thou looks a bit different to me; though I knew the time when I was as bonny as thou art."

As he raised the bread he was eating to his mouth, his hand trembled like a last withered leaf, which the next blast will sweep away for ever. There was so much natural kindness in the old man's tone, that instantaneously, and almost unconsciously, the comparison between Miss Sowersoft and her man Samuel who had spoken to him in the afternoon, and poor old George, was forced upon Colin's mind. In reply to the old man's concluding remark, Colin observed,

"Yes, sir, I dare say; but that is a long while ago now." "Ay, ay, thou's right, boy,-it is a long while. I've seen more than I shall ever see again, and done more than I shall ever do again."

Mr. Palethorpe, who sat in the home-made easy-chair, while the old man occupied a four-legged stool, burst into a laugh.

"You're right there, George," he retorted. "Though you never did much since I knowed you, you'll take right good care you not do as much again. Drat your idle old carcase! you don't earn half the bread you 're eating."

The old man looked up,-not angry, nor yet seeking for pity. "Well, perhaps not; but it is none the sweeter for that, I can assure you. If I can't work as I did once, it's no fault of mine. We can get no more out of a nut than its kernel; and there's nought much but the shell left of me now."

"Yes, yes," returned Palethorpe, "you don't like it, George, and you'll not do it. Dang your good-for-nothing old limbs! you'll come to the work'us at last, I know you will!"

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Nay, I hope not," observed the old man, somewhat sorrowfully. I've lived out so long, and with God's blessing on my hands, though they can't do much, I shall manage to die out." "Come, then," said Palethorpe, pushing a pair of hard clayplastered quarter-boots from off his feet, "stir your lazy bones, and clean my boots once more before you put on th' parish livery."

The old man was accustomed to be thus insulted, and, because he dared not reply, to take insult in silence. He laid down the remaining portion of his bread and cheese, with the remark that he would finish it when he had cleaned the boots, and was about rising from his seat to step across the hearth to pick them up, as they lay tossed at random on the floor, when young Colin, whose heart had been almost bursting during this brief scene, put his hand upon the poor old creature's knee to stop him, and, at the same time starting to his own feet instead, exclaimed,

"No, no! - It's a shame for such an old man as you. - Sit still, and I'll do 'em."

"You shan't though, you whelp!" exclaimed Palethorpe in great wrath, at the same time kicking out his right foot in order to prevent Colin from picking them up. The blow caught him upon the nose, and a gush of blood fell upon the hearthstone.

"I will, I tell you!" replied Colin vehemently, as he strove to wipe away the blood with his sleeve, and burst into tears. "I'm d-d if you do!" said Palethorpe, rising from his chair with fixed determination. "I'll soon put you to rights, young busy-body."

So saying, he laid a heavy grip with each iron hand on Colin's shoulders.

"Then if I don't, he shan't!" sobbed Colin.