'Come in here! Come in!' cried Griffith aloud. Israel pushed open the glass door and stepped in, greeted by the words

'Have you heard the news?'

For a moment Israel did not look up. It was a way with him, that of looking on the ground, when pondering in thought, or when expecting critical questions.

Slowly at last he raised his head, and, looking impassive as a piece of ice, said

To what, sir, do you refer?'

'My brother's new will.'

'Just discovered?'

"Yes. Giving his wife three thousand a year as a charge on the mine.'

Israel's eyes again sought the ground, as if he could always at need there recruit his mental forces; then turning them steadily on Griffith, he said

'Well, sir, I will tell you. I signed that will, I and a comrade brought by me, as witnesses, at Mr. Jehoshaphat's request, for he had rather a respect for me, even though he didn't choose to promote me.'

"You signed it! you, Israel! you astonish me; and did he tell you what you were signing?'

'Yes.'

And you did not remonstrate, not say one word of the monstrous injustice of saddling me with all the dangers, expenses, and responsibilities, while probably giving to her the bulk of all the earnings?'

How could I, Mr. Griffith? I am but an Overman, But he had become a great man, I remained a little one, little and insignificant as when we first knew each other. It was for him to say, "Israel, do this," and for me to obey.'

as Mr. Jehoshaphat once was.

And why did you not tell me before?'

'Because he bade me hold my tongue till the lawyer had said his say.'

There is no need to pursue the dialogue. It ended once more to Israel's advantage, and in an increased desire on Griffith's part for the meeting in the mine, fixed for the morrow.

Meantime, Mrs. Williams' first business was to discover what her 'lazy, loitering lasses,' the servants, were about; so she went round through the little court, with its old, picturesque, ivy-clad walls that surrounded the kitchen and other offices, and began to call in a shrill voice for Ruth' and 'Gwen,' but called in vain; so hurried on to the kitchen door, prepared for any amount of domestic calamity.

At the threshold she was met by Nest in tears, and the moment the poor child saw her she ran to her and clasped her, and hid her face in her dress as if her heart would break with the distress that was too great for her to explain.

With some effort Mrs. Williams extracted the truth. Nest had just seen David-had met him quite accidentally -and been so frightened at his looks and his hideous miner-dress, that she could not venture to speak to him. But then he had come after her, and told her all his dreadful story about his first day in the mine, and how kind to him Rees Thomas had been, and how he meant to try again.

'I sat down and cried I can't tell you how long. And then he seemed sorry he had told me, and said his father called him a mean coward, and he supposed he was one, or he should never have told me. And then he saw his father coming, and he went away, and never even wished me good-bye.

Mrs. Williams loved her child and knew how to comfort her, and did so now, and brought back all her bright gaiety at last by explaining to her Israel's improved position, and by promising to see what could be done for David's future.

And then Nest prattled on, just like a bird in the early morning, as if it mattered nothing what was said, when the saying was so sweet, and then

Why then Mrs. Williams, while reluctant to put away the child, sees once more in her excited fancy the beer spirting from the tap, the cat cooling her tongue in the fresh butter, the dough rising to unheard-of heights; she also sees in the same way Jenkyn, the farm servant, coming

for his coat, from which she had cut a sleeve, and only half finished putting it in again; sees strange dogs prowling about the cellar where she has left her hams, and flitches, and ribs, and trotters unprotected.

At these and a host of other disturbing visions Mrs. Williams presses her feet together, kisses Nest, bids her run and play, and herself rushes off to examine into the actual state of things.

CHAPTER XI.

GRIFFITH WILLIAMS AND ISRAEL TAKE COUNSEL TOGETHER IN THE MINE.

THE day of the appointment for a meeting in the mine having come, Mr. Griffith Williams dressed himself with some care, conscious of the eyes that were to look, many for the first time, on their new employer. He had forgotten for the moment the sort of place he was going through, and the contact his clothes would have to endure. When Mrs. Williams reminded him of this at their very early breakfast, he said carelessly

Israel will see to all that, no doubt.'

'Griffith dear, don't forget to say a kind word to Israel about David. Now he must do something better for him.'

'He ought, at all events; but Israel's a man difficult to deal with in things that he considers as belonging not to an employer's province, but his own. As manager, I may tell you, Maggy, I have immense faith in him, and expect great things from him. It wasn't merely what he said and did that influenced me the other day to put him so suddenly in Barrett's place, but from a boy I have known him, and have always had the same idea of him. He's not a pleasant man, but a man of real worth to those who know how to use him. My brother acted brutishly to Israel. He knew his abilities, and profited by them, just

so far as it suited his convenience, but hindered him from getting one step higher, lest he might either get too strong a hold and make himself too valuable, or go elsewhere, and become as great a man as himself. What's the time? Half-past five! What a dark, gloomy morning! I must make haste, or I shall be setting a bad example at the outset. Don't you know,' he said with a laugh, as he kissed and parted with his wife, 'I am now one of the captains of industry, and must mind my p's and q's?'

As he approached the ugly group of buildings that surrounded the pit's mouth, he saw Israel standing there to watch the colliers descend; and Griffith thought that as no one had yet noticed him, he would slip into a dark corner, and similarly watch Israel's own behaviour under his new dignity.

The news of the Overman's elevation had rapidly flown, and it was amusing to see the differing attitudes of the colliers as they recognised him.

One man seemed almost inclined to kneel in reverence for Israel's condescension in wishing him 'Good morning,' till Israel's dry question, Drinking last night?' caused him to collect himself, and hurry into the cage, followed by a laugh from his comrades.

Another turned full face upon Israel, as he said—

'It's a fine thing to be in luck, Master Israel. Luck's a very fine thing, ain't it?'

'Give me time to try, lad,' said Israel quietly, and without offence.

When the last of the working colliers had gone down, the night-deputy came up from below, and seeing Israel, went to him and held out his hand.

Just for a brief space Israel delayed to take it, but then the two hands met, and seemingly a cordial grasp was given.

The deputy was a man whom the most indifferent person could scarcely pass without noticing, for the unearthly blaze of the eye-which shone out of the cadaverous murky face like an unnaturally beautiful star during some portentous aspect of the heavens. He was of small, spare

form, and sharp, thin features. These were inexpressibly sad, yet with a kind of darkened radiance upon them, as though their natural light were under some partial and inexplicable eclipse.

It was a face where, in the profound tenderness of the gloom, in the great hollows under the eyes, in the sharp extremities of the nose and chin, and in the shrunken yet sensitive nostrils, Death's fingers might have recently passed; but with a touch so stricken, kindly, and hesitating, that at last he spared him to live on; without, however, removing from that wan, worn countenance the signs of the fatal sentence he had visibly stamped there in token it was but a reprieve after all he accorded.

While engaged in his duties he was calm, collected, and thoroughly efficient; but when alone, and he was able to retire into the mental solitude he so much loved, his lips would be seen moving incessantly in silent communion with his own inner self.

Such was the man who had aided David in the mine, and who now addressed Israel

'I congratulate thee, Manager Mort,' he said, after a prolonged pause, during which he looked searchingly and wistfully into Israel's face.

I congratulate thee, Overman Rees Thomas,' was the reply, with just sufficient emphasis on the word Overman to indicate the new dignity.

The slightest tinge of colour seemed to appear on the pale, hollow cheek, as Rees Thomas spake again

'If thou sayest that seriously, I thank thee, and shall try, with the Lord's help, to do my duty; but if thou madest the mistake of supposing I was seeking my own advancement and vain-glory when I offered my congratulations, thou didst me wrong. No, friend Israel, I was yearning after better things.'

'Which some day thou shalt talk to me about once more.'

6

Again thou mistakest. It is not thyself of whom I speak, but of these benighted creatures here below our feet. Israel Mort, dost thou recognise the hand that has