“No, no, no; he’s as steady and good a lad as ever lived. But--but--” “Yes; but--” “He is a cripple now; and I love him all the better for it.” Here Jessie fairly sobbed. Kenelm was greatly moved, and prudently held his peace till she had a little recovered herself; then, in answer to his gentle questionings, he learned that Will Somers--till then a healthy and strong lad--had fallen from the height of a scaffolding, at the age of sixteen, and been so seriously injured that he was moved at once to the hospital. When he came out of it--what with the fall, and what with the long illness which had followed the effects of the accident--he was not only crippled for life, but of health so delicate and weakly that he was no longer fit for outdoor labour and the hard life of a peasant. He was an only son of a widowed mother, and his sole mode of assisting her was a very precarious one. He had taught himself basket-making; and though, Jessie said, his work was very ingenious and clever, still there were but few customers for it in that neighbourhood. And, alas! even if Jessie’s father would consent to give his daughter to the poor cripple, how could the poor cripple earn enough to maintain a wife? “And,” said Jessie, “still I was happy, walking out with him on Sunday evenings, or going to sit with him and his mother; for we are both young, and can wait. But I dare n’t do it any more now: for Tom Bowles has sworn that if I do he will beat him before my eyes; and Will has a high spirit, and I should break my heart if any harm happened to him on my account.” “As for Mr. Bowles, we’ll not think of him at present. But if Will could maintain himself and you, your father would not object nor you either to a marriage with the poor cripple?” “Father would not; and as for me, if it weren’t for disobeying Father, I’d marry him to-morrow. _I_ can work.” “They are going back to the hay now; but after that task is over, let me walk home with you, and show me Will’s cottage and Mr. Bowles’s shop or forge.” “But you’ll not say anything to Mr. Bowles. He would n’t mind your being a gentleman, as I now see you are, sir; and he’s dangerous,--oh, so dangerous!--and so strong.” “Never fear,” answered Kenelm, with the nearest approach to a laugh he had ever made since childhood; “but when we are relieved, wait for me a few minutes at yon gate.” CHAPTER XII.