to seat the youngster in, and tie him with his bandanna handkerchief. So silly that all was! When they were on the floor there, and had Master Jem fastened in, be remembered how she suddenly turned, and put her arms about his neck, as shyly as when they were first married, and kissed him. "Only God knows how good you are to me, Stephen," she said. There were tears in her eyes.--Yarrow passed his hand over his forehead. Did ever a thought come into your mind like a fresh, clean air into a stove-heated, foul room? or like the first hearty, living call of Greatheart through the dungeons of Giant Despair? "You do not answer me, Stephen?" said his brother. "You will go with me?" Yarrow's head was more erect, his eyes less glazed. "It may be. The chance for me's over in the world, I think. I may as well serve you. And yet"-- "What?" "Give me time to think. I want out-of-doors. It's close here. I'll meet you in the morning." Soule caught his wife's uneasy glance. "What is this, Stephen?" "Nothing," looking dully out into the night. "Then"-- "There's some you said were dead,"--as if no one were speaking, with the same dull look. "Or lost: I think they're not dead. If there might be a chance yet! If I could but see Martha and the little chaps, it would save me, John Yarrow, no matter what they'd learned to think of me. They're mine,--my little chaps. She said the boys should never know. She said that of her own free will." "Is it likely she could keep her word?" said Soule, sneeringly. "Why, why, she loved me, John,"--a moist color and smile coming out on his face. "There's a little thing I minded just now that--Yes, Martha kept her word." He tapped with his fingers thoughtfully on the mantel-shelf, the smile lingering yet on his face. The woman's woollen sewing fell from her hand, and she spoke for the first time. Her tone had a harsh, metallic twang in it: Yarrow turned curiously, as he heard it. "What could they be to you, if you found them? They have forgotten you. In five years they have not sent you a message." "No,--I know, Madam." Even that did not hurt him. His face kindled slowly,--still turned to the fire, as if it were telling him some old story: looking to her at last, steadfast and manly, like a man who has healthy common-sense dominant in his head, and an unselfish love at work in his heart. Such a one is not far from the kingdom of heaven. "It seems to me as if there might be a chance--yet. It's a long time. But Martha loved me, Madam. You don't know--I think I'll go, John. It's close here, 's I said. I'll meet you at the far bridge by dawn, and let you know." "It is your only chance," said Soule, roughly, as he followed him to the door. He was a ruined man, if he were balked in this. "You do not know how the world meets a returned felon, Stephen; you"-- "Let me go," feebly, putting his hand up to his chin in the old fashion.