XLIX. The Prisoners 390 L. The Day of the Wedding 396 LI. The Wedding 404 LII. Conclusion 408 THE CAMERON PRIDE; OR, PURIFIED BY SUFFERING. CHAPTER I. THE FARM-HOUSE AT SILVERTON. Uncle Ephraim Barlow was an old-fashioned man, clinging to the old-time customs of his fathers, and looking with but little toleration upon what he termed the “new-fangled notions” of the present generation. Born and reared amid the rocks and hills of the Bay State, his nature partook largely of the nature of his surroundings, and he grew into manhood with many a rough point adhering to his character, which, nevertheless, taken as a whole, was, like the wild New England scenery, beautiful and grand. None knew Uncle Ephraim Barlow but to respect him, and at the church in which he was a deacon, few would have been missed more than the tall, muscular man, with the long white hair, who, Sunday after Sunday, walked slowly up the middle aisle to his accustomed seat before the altar, and who regularly passed the contribution box, bowing involuntarily in token of approbation when a neighbor’s gift was larger than its wont, and gravely dropping in his own ten cents—never more, never less, always ten cents—his weekly offering, which he knew amounted in a year to just five dollars and twenty cents. And still Uncle Ephraim was not stingy, as the Silverton poor could testify, for many a load of wood and bag of meal found entrance to the doors where cold and hunger would have otherwise been, while to his minister he was literally a holder up of the weary hands, and a comforter in the time of trouble. His helpmeet, Aunt Hannah, like that virtuous woman mentioned in the Bible, was one “who seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands, who riseth while yet it is night, and giveth meat to her household,” while Miss Betsy Barlow, the deacon’s maiden sister, was a character in her way, and bore no resemblance to those frivolous females to whom the Apostle Paul had reference when he condemned the plaiting of hair and the wearing of gold and jewels. Quaint, queer and simple-hearted, she had but little idea of any world this side of heaven, except the one bounded by the “huckleberry” hills and the crystal waters of Fairy Pond, which from the back door of the farm-house were plainly seen, both in the summer sunshine and when the intervening fields were covered with the winter snow.