Brooke came to the door with a candle.
"What d'ye want?" he demanded.
"To wish you Merry Christmas and present you gifts," said Trove.
The old man raised his candle, surveying them with surprise and
curiosity.
"What gifts?" he inquired in a milder tone.
"Well," said the boy, "we've brought you mittens and a muffler."
"Ha! ha! Yer consciences have smote ye," said Brooke, "Glory to God
who brings the sinner to repentance!"
"And fills the bitter cup o' the ungrateful," said the tinker. And
they went away.
"I'd like to bring one other gift," said Darrel.
"What's that?"
"God forgive me! A rope to hang him. But mind thee, boy, we are
trying the law o' the great teacher, and let us see if we can learn
to love this man."
"Love Riley Brooke?" said Trove, doubtfully.
"A great achievement, I grant thee," said the tinker. "For if we
can love him, we shall be able to love anybody. Let us try and see
what comes of it."
A man was waiting for Darrel at the foot of the old stairs--a tall
man, poorly dressed, whom Trove had not seen before, and whom, now,
he was not able to see clearly in the darkness.
"The mare is ready," said Darrel. "Tis a dark night.
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