‘Go an’ kiss your father, Nat,’ said Jenny, slowly and coldly--and the boy got up from his chair, but then stood still, for even the sense of his mother’s scorn was not sufficient to induce him to go near his father. He stood still, trembling and troubled, without being able to decide to which side to turn, to the wrath and righteousness in his mother’s eyes, or the unalluring vice that asked for an embrace. His hesitation had a voice more plain than words, and Rob’s sense of injury found a new direction. ‘Do ye think as ye’ll go to disobey me, ye little d--d scoundrel?’ cried the father’s wrath; ‘I’ll teach ye, an’ leather ye, an’ shew yer mother too as I’m goin’ to be master, whatever she may say. Ye dare to come near me! I’ll know how to teach ye; ye give me t’ cha-ance, an’ I’ll make use on it.’ ‘I’m not afraid,’ answered Nat, with resolution, and he did indeed take one step towards his father; but in an instant, with a little cry of terror, poor Jenny rushed forward and threw herself between. She was not always ready to forgive her son, even when such forgiveness might have brought him to her feet; but she was ready to be struck in his stead at any moment, even whilst not forgiving him--that is a mother’s love. Rob did raise his hand; but confused by a change of victims, he let it drop, and fell once more into tears--he whimpered that it was a strange thing for a man to come back, and not find that his ‘people were proud to meet wi’ him.’ Proud to meet with him!--the shivering, drunken wretch, crouching over the fire in the home that he disgraced, the words might even have been considered ludicrous, as if any family could by possibility be proud of him! But in the midst of the silence into which his words had fallen, whilst Jenny sat upright and rigid, still and pale, whilst Annie stood quivering, trembling, by the door, and Nat, still angry, had almost broken down into tears--whilst the members of the little family were all miserable, convulsed, absorbed in the private woes in which the outside world is lost--it was at that instant that there echoed in the distance a clang which, to three of the four, was a too familiar sound. The last night had come--the greatest night of all! and the village Rantan was on its way again.