"Just met Brendon," he explained, "and hearing that Mr. Friend was in peril, I come up so hard as my hoss would go, to see if I could comfort him. I've been light at more death-beds than one in my time, including my own father's, and often a word helps the wanderer in the Valley." "He'm not in the Valley, or anywheres near it," answered the woman stoutly. "But come in by all means. If you could bide with him a little, I'll look about, and set his living chamber in order, and try to make an egg pudding for him." Mr. Norseman, who knew Gregory and his daughter but slightly, now dismounted, tethered his horse, and presently sat by the sufferer; while Sarah Jane, glad of the opportunity, worked hard to make the dismal hole that was her father's home a little clean and a little comfortable. "Very kind of you to call, I'm sure," said Mr. Friend, when his daughter had gone. "Don't tell her yet, for I may be wrong; but I'm very much afraid 'tis all up with me. 'Tis awful deep in me. I got properly wetted two days ago, and went to sleep afore the fire." "Where there's life there's hope," said Mr. Norseman. "But you're wise to face it. I wish you'd been more of a church-worshipper, Friend." "Well, well. I've worked hard and tried to do my duty." "But more goes to life than that. What are man's days without faith? Here you've lived for years, more like a wild savage of the woods than a devout Christian. I wish you'd planned your life wiser, Friend, I do indeed." "So do I. So do all. So will yourself, when you'm down." "As to that, I think I can look forward in hope. But you--you see, you put this life first always. Your thoughts ran upon making a fortune out of fuel in this world. You never thought about making a fortune in the next, I'm afraid." Gregory laughed painfully. "Plenty of free fuel where you think I'm going," he said. Mr. Norseman was hurt. "You ought not to jest about a sacred subject--never--and least of all at a time like this," he answered. "You're wise to face it--as we all should--but not in a ribald spirit. Don't die with a jest on your lips, Gregory Friend." The other moved and groaned, but with present misery not in future fear.