The woman hid her face in her hands, and moaned. "Do you know her, then, Alfred?" said the uncle. "She nursed me when I was a little sickly boy," replied the youth; "she lived many years in my father's house." "Then I am sure you will take her to some lodging to-night, for she is quite a stranger here. There is Martha calling to me again; she is not in the best temper to-night, so I had better go in, and I leave them to your care." "Oh! tell me, Mr. Gray, have you seen him?" cried the woman eagerly. "I have been with him to-day, Susan," said Gray, kindly taking her hand--"do not be cast down; all that can be done for Martin, shall be done. Let me take you where you can rest to-night, and to-morrow you can be with him." The weary little boy had fallen asleep on the seat; the mother strove to arouse him, but Alfred Gray prevented her, by taking the little fellow in his arms. He carried him by her side through the streets; she could utter no words of gratitude, but her tears flowed fast, and told how the young man's sympathy had fallen like balm upon her wounded heart. "God has taken pity on me," she said, when they parted. With a quick step Alfred regained his uncle's cottage; he had a difficult task to accomplish. Martin Harvey, now awaiting his trial for poaching, and for being concerned in an affray with Sir George Roberts' game-keepers, had once been his father's apprentice. Young Gray had been endeavoring to procure for him all the legal help which the laws then allowed; but his own means were limited, and, when he met Susan and her boy in the garden, he had come to visit his uncle to ask his assistance. He had now returned on the same errand. He pleaded earnestly, and with caution, but was repulsed. It was in vain he urged the poverty of agricultural laborers at that season, and the temptation which an abundance of game afforded to half-starved men and their wretched families. "Nonsense, Alfred!" said old Mr. Gray. "I would not grudge you the money if you did not want it for a bad purpose. You must not excuse men who go out with guns and fire at their fellow-creatures in the dark." "Martin did not fire, uncle--that is what I want to prove, and save him, if I can, from transportation. He has a wife and child." "Wife and child!" repeated the old man thoughtfully. "You did not tell me he had a wife and child; that poor woman came from Uffeulme." "Providence must have guided her," said the younger Gray. "It was indeed Harvey's wife and son whom you so lately relieved." "You shall have the money. I have all through life prayed that my heart may not be hardened; and I find, old as I am, that, every day I have fresh lessons to learn."