Dreading the moment when Jem should discover his loss, Lawrence dared not stay at home, and not knowing what to do, or where to go, he mechanically went to his old haunt at the stable yard, and lurked thereabouts all day with his accomplice, who tried in vain to quiet his fears and raise his spirits by talking of the next day’s cock-fight. It was agreed that as soon as the dusk of the evening came on, they should go together into a certain lonely field, and there divide their booty. In the meantime, Jem, when he returned from church, was very full of business, preparing for the reception of his mistress, of whose intended visit he had informed his mother; and whilst she was arranging the kitchen and their little parlour, he ran to search the strawberry beds. “Why, my Jem, how merry you are to-day!” said his mother, when he came in with the strawberries, and was jumping about the room playfully. “Now, keep those spirits of yours, Jem, till you want ’em, and don’t let it come upon you all at once. Have it in mind that to-morrow’s fair day, and Lightfoot must go. I bid Farmer Truck call for him to-night. He said he’d take him along with his own, and he’ll be here just now—and then I know how it will be with you, Jem!” “So do I!” cried Jem, swallowing his secret with great difficulty, and then tumbling head over heels four times running. A carriage passed the window, and stopped at the door. Jem ran out; it was his mistress. She came in smiling, and soon made the old woman smile, too, by praising the neatness of everything in the house. We shall pass over, however important as they were deemed at the time, the praises of the strawberries, and of “my grandmother’s china plate.” Another knock was heard at the door. “Run, Jem,” said his mother. “I hope it’s our milk-woman with cream for the lady.” No; it was Farmer Truck come for Lightfoot. The old woman’s countenance fell. “Fetch him out, dear,” said she, turning to her son; but Jem was gone; he flew out to the stable the moment he saw the flap of Farmer Truck’s great-coat. “Sit ye down, farmer,” said the old woman, after they had waited about five minutes in expectation of Jem’s return. “You’d best sit down, if the lady will give you leave; for he’ll not hurry himself back again. My boy’s a fool, madam, about that there horse.” Trying to laugh, she added, “I knew how Lightfoot and he would be loath enough to part. He won’t bring him out till the last minute; so do sit ye down, neighbour.” The farmer had scarcely sat down when Jem, with a pale, wild countenance came back. “What’s the matter?” said his mistress. “God bless the boy!” said his mother, looking at him quite frightened, whilst he tried to speak, but could not. She went up to him, and then leaning his head against her, he cried, “It’s gone!—it’s all gone!” and, bursting into tears, he sobbed as if his little heart would break. “What’s gone, love?” said his mother.